Lured from the safe cover of Hidden Falls where she had spent time recuperating and reflecting, Africa found herself travelling in bird form into the south - far closer to her home of old than she might have preferred - drawn helplessly nonetheless. She knew not the destination until the familiar shadow of Sky Island fell across her small, feathery grey body, and with pinning pupils she glanced up towards it holding her breath. Cautiously she landed, prepared for the powder-white platform to gather beneath her long scaly toes, and it did so quickly soon carrying her from the earth, from the frostbitten surface of Helovia into the clear blue sky.

There was not yet the strength in her scrawny frame to make the journey without aide, and without the company of Silas - who had not returned to her since the forest - Africa did not even feel confident enough to try. There were eyes everywhere, she knew, and was relieved that thus far none of those from Dragon’s Throat had discovered her return.

The cloud dissolved beneath her as she arrived en route to the village. The one-winged mare was still not certain the reason for which she had come, but her heart’s burning desire to continue compelled her back into flight. Wings fluttered frantically, lifting her stocky Grey body high above the lush pasture flanking the bustling town – to where few eyes might seek her out, and she swept silently down towards a growing, gathered group. She saw right away that the four Helovian deities were on scene, that Midas too stood by, and they mare hesitated for the briefest of moments as guilt and panic flared through her core.

Carefully she swung nearer to the tent flagged for the Falls and deliberately avoided the familiar sands which marked the gathering point for those of the desert.

Claws fastened around the pitch of the canvas pavilion and curious eyes watched as the God of the Earth stepped from the company of His siblings, towards the Gallant. Flowers more beautiful than even those across this island sprouted in wake of His ethereal stride, and she was entranced, soothed. As He spoke, Africa listened and her softened gaze widened with both surprise and delight – she could think of none other more deserving of such honour, and was humbled beyond words. Ascended... her mind repeated thoughtfully and she smiled within (hard beak could not portray such glee) as the God of the Earth congratulated His friend...

The God lowered across one bent knee, and solemnly and respectfully Africa’s eyes closed, her small parrot body dipping across the roof of the tent to salute the Gallant, and his Lord. In turn the Ascended spoke, gushing with astonishment, and the one-winged mare laughed softly and affectionately – he was more than worthy. She was not near enough to hear the full answer he gave, but minded little because such a gift as that which had been offered to him was in truth, none of her business. “Congratulations dearest one... Ascended.” She whispered softly to the breeze alone so that she would not interrupt the ceremony. Her heart felt light, giddy, and the gaze which fell upon Midas was filled with adoration.


(Liquid time right here >.< Congratulations Angel and Midas <3)