I’d been thinking about him these past few days, my young prodigy. We hadn’t parted on good terms during our last palaver. I wanted to mend this relationship somehow. Push past faults behind us, all that pain and suffering. Allow true forgiveness, not just for my personal misgivings and faults – but forgiveness from him as well. For never being around when he needed me. It was either a cruel game of fate or my own foolishness that decreed I be absent again from them now; cut off by personal choice yet again. But I still prayed for him, and often dreamt of our adventures outside the Throat.

I wanted to see him. If only to ensure that he was doing well for himself.

A brilliant Tallsun orb was shining bright in heaven, today’s sky was a perfect ocean blue. Not a single cloud shaded the hot ground from blistering rays, dry summer wheat swayed in the constant southern breeze. I walked through the meadow, wings tucked firmly against my barrel, eyes lingering toward the ocean and southern tips of this world. There was a smoke cloud trailing up from the heart of Helovia and beyond that…though it was invisible from current position. I knew there would be a slice of land, a sandy haven.

“Cera…” voice rose quietly, as if the wind itself would carry his name to distant ears and my precious babe would come find me. A pinch of sadness rose in my gut, a lonely lurch that lowered my skull toward the sweet smelling grass.

Cera... the wind seemed to whisper against the limber sea of golden grass that day in the meadow.

The dappled mare’s face lifted high into the warm breath of Tallsun and thick lashes fastened together. She drew in a long, deep breath, listening as she held it for a moment with ears pricked forward. Her sensitive soul drew strange melancholy as the name of her friend and Diviner slipped away again, into oblivion. “Cera?” she answered, voice as delicate as softly babbling snow-water weaving a route between the stones lining a dry creek bed. Eyelids peeled apart finally as her whiskered chin dropped again to the level of her shoulders, and Africa peered quietly around. Pale yellow eyes roamed towards the horizon to the south, home, a vague smile lifting the bland expression she wore.

The herd seemed at last to be blossoming, the Throat’s girth was filling with steady hearts and ambitious minds; a new direction, a fresh start. She was glad all the more that Ampere had abandoned her post as Sultana because Sohalia was more than deserving; a gift in fact (a mind to treasure), and the one-winged couldn’t help but feel a little lost beneath the shadow of one so better suited to power- or so was her perspective. She had always looked up to the white angel, admired her intellect and revered her, in a sense.

But was it her own insecurities that unsettled her so?

No, her friend and companion often reminded her, enigmatic titbits that an infatuated heart had not the ability to decipher. His obscurity frustrated her, but not nearly as much as the constant nag of discontent within. It was not up to the zephyr though to point out the inconsistencies in the mare’s impressionable, yearning plan with Batwing however- he knew the true quench to her thirst (from a perspective that was not her own, it was obvious), but Africa would need to find it for herself. The zephyr slept on soundly while his bonded grazed the stringy pasture by the river, unaware that another approached.

Bright eyes blinked and turned from the column of thick heaven bound smoke. As her crest shook beneath the warm glow of licking fire, moist tongue licking away the wheat bristles caught between long whiskers, the movement of a dark form caught her attention.

“Midas!” she sighed tenderly, perhaps more affectionately than she was aware, fondness weaving swiftly through soft, pale features. Hindquarters rocked gently as hocks guided her around to face the black and white stallion, “How are you?” After months believing that he and Fina had been lost to the Darkness, Africa had found herself in his company many times recently, but never did her joy in their meetings tire. Quiet eyes searched quickly for Fina as Silas slept on deeply.

He didn’t come of course and no god would aid my desire in this. Slowly I traveled up and down the hills of swaying grass, this candied barley barely satisfies hunger and allows mind to enter a state of nothing – in such a place that I could think of little else other than the act of eating, and feeling the heat of our sun blistering my sleek pelt. Dragon’s Throat lay only a few miles ahead, but I wouldn’t be going there today.

Instead fate planned a different visitor; an unmistakable girl was trailing the same meadow, nostrils flared when that recognizable female scent infiltrated my steadfast concentration on pulling out yet another strand of meadow. Her dappled body is a brilliant shine of unyielding firelight, masking the fragile girl beneath with a show of power – no other carried the Sun’s mark in such a way.

Africa.

Cranium rose from its lowered position, a thin trail of grass hanging from the rightmost corner; the blank sadness that had been etched in every slither of my being was slowly fading from sight. Replaced with a humble grin, conscious state of mind moving to hide behind a thickened mask that I hardly wore for less important company. Yar, yon sister wouldn't desire my disgruntled mood; besides, she’d had already bent her ear for my cause once before, I’d not have her do it again.

Ears flicked, my name on the wind. Her soft and soothing vocals offering a pleasing smile along with the title. She approaches and my ivory banner rises with the breeze. “Well enough,” grin draws wider, “and ye? Enjoying the final days of Tallsun before the rains arrive?” Africa appeared in a favorable mood, (though I’d not seen much of her displeasure.) Those pliable eyes shift, searching for something. Brows rose expectantly but I said nothing.

She paused right before they came together to let soft, sandy eyes examine the stallion’s familiar expression carefully for any hint about his mood. There was naught to be found however, and the delicate smile etched through her features lifted a little further. She had missed his company terribly through weeks gone by, the gentle comfort of his words and safety in his presence. Her coat trembled subtly, warmth rising through her core. In fact, Midas smiled, and the gesture enticed the humble creature to cover the small distance remaining quickly.

Beneath the brilliance of the sun, the clear open sky, Africa felt almost invincible. Her body felt young, and her mind clearer than it had for months. There was still though a dullness concealed behind pools illuminated by the light of her Lord, it followed her, flaring erratically to remind her of that mortal bearing. He spoke, and her mind filled instantly with the sound of his masculine tone, sincerity (she thought), a friend even when the world seemed so bitter.

“Yes,” she answered decorously, dipping her slim face as a show of respect. “...the season has passed so quickly.” Silas never stirred where he slept upon her back, and with no sign of Fina, the one-winged mare’s placid gaze settled back on the stallion. The rain... she mused distractedly. There would be no fond meetings with Midas this Orangemoon, the accidental tradition was something she had looked forward too; another gifted opportunity to bask in his fine company. She wondered suddenly how the Falls faired during the wet season; if the small blue tinged mare who lived there with him, had taken her place.

Bothered by the unwelcome thought, charcoal ears tipped backwards into fire, and she glanced away over the collared shoulder of the splendid male.

“What brings you so far from home?” she asked quickly, recovering her smile before it gave way entirely to the brooding frown smeared across her sensitive mind. Don’t be so daft, she told herself scornfully, and found courage enough to return her modest gaze if his was waiting still.

The gods likely found this humorous, the way we both wondered about the other in silent musings; I unable to penetrate her thoughts and she obviously was blissfully unaware of mine. Yar, the ways of this world and the ways of a moral mind. We met as friends, as brother and sister from years of living within the same family – to striving toward similar goals, and now. We lived a world apart. Just as Ktulu and me once had. Seeing her here made me wonder upon my choice and the weight that was slung across shoulders. How long would honor call me from family and friends? How long before my happiness was realized?

This world offered me power, a thing which most of its children had little use for – yet the strongest among us also seemed to be the most tainted and lacking in real comfort of life. Yar, I was a lonely conflicted little man. A wayward soldier. Distractions had become my existence and I seemed to flirt with them quite often now – or else I’d fall prey to all the failures in this life.

If only we could plead for a redo.

Her question pulls my thoughts, breaking them from idle concentration; a sigh whelped, I pressed a higher smile, covering any faults with an almost skilled ease, “I’ve come to escape and pray for a time. Seeking a place of peace my friend.” Honeyed gaze met her stare, softening reflexively, shifting only to linger as the sunfire licked across spine, “What of ye? Tis not my company which ye has solely sought out I assume?” a gentle chuckle emerges and my grin slides a little higher. A jest, a tease. Hiding the fact that I’d missed this desert flower, “though,” voice lowered, almost to a hush, “I am glad to see ye.”