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When was the last time she’d romped carelessly through the Wilds without caution and no destination in mind? It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago that she’d known the blessings of childhood. Now, no matter how many times she tried to move forward there was something holding her back. As painful as it was to admit, Essetia wanted to hear the words- the words that would allow her release from a prison of her own making.
Her current daily routine had been perfected, if only to keep her thoughts from straying to the dark questions that threatened to consume the happy life she pretended to lead. Romul had given her comfort when it was dearly needed, but it paled in comparison to the love she’d once felt in the embrace of her mother or the gentle kiss of her father. Why had they abandoned her?
Why had they left?
A gentle sigh was coaxed from her lips as she returned her attention to Ignatius. Could she blame him for behaving like the child he was? In a way she felt ashamed at having berated him for one of the many things she had once done as a filly, but in another she was bitter and jealous of his easiness. Defiant and rebellious as he was, Ignatius had found a way to leave an impression on the world.
Essetia evaded the question of his residence for fear of the truth, but the horned colt left little to the imagination… Besides, neither of them had any real reason to share any more than basic formalities. The lives they returned to after meeting one another meant little… and Essetia wanted it to remain that way.
“I used to play games,” she admitted while glancing down at Romul, who returned her attention with a devious, wolven smile. They had played many games in the Edge; though she wasn’t sure they quite measured up to Ignatius’ version of “fun.” He enjoyed scaring innocent bystanders, while Essetia was quite fond of tag or hide-and-seek with the only friend she’d ever been able to depend on. “But not anymore.”
The pair had spent many long summers darting through the shade of the forest along the cliff while impatient parents found ways to apprehend them. Did Ignatius know anything of the lifestyle Essetia had become so accustomed to? She had always though the Basin (if indeed he had come from their midst) was a place of utter darkness and betrayal. But perhaps those ideas were ones painted by her elders in order to teach rambunctious youngsters to behave.
Again, Essetia’s thoughts had taken off with her.
She attempted to nod at the colt’s curt explanation for harassing her, but found little remorse in his reasoning. “All alone?” she asked more seriously. Of course she couldn’t condemn another’s parenting methods, but she certainly wouldn’t allow her children to run wild in the Arch…
But why?
She had heard so many horror stories about the Basin. “They only accepted those with a horn upon their brow,” she’d heard. But racist tendencies thrived not only in the North… In fact, now that she thought about it- it existed everywhere. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t just, but it was real. It was bred into young hearts and nurtured throughout adolescence… Perhaps that was just the way the world was meant to be.
There was really no escaping it. | |
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