Akaith's own elegant form twisted and turned, gladly joining in the dangerous acrobatics the white was displaying, tucking her own wings close so that her long, lithe body could weave with ease through the thrashing waves and not be thrown aside by the torrential rain and wind. Keen senses tracked the movements of the pale one, following her with ease against the din of the storm and waves. It was a thrilling chase, a wondrous dance of draconic fun. The gold darted through the peaks of waves like an arrow, emerging on the other side wet and glittering all the more whenever a lightning strike would illuminate the vicinity. There was no winning or losing, they were kin, and to Akaith, friends.

If only it was so simple for the equines who were bonded to these draconic creatures to feel the same. Mirage watched the stallion, observed him seek her out, his pale mane and tail giving her eyes something to clutch onto in the darkness - she was not surprised that his own glances had not uncovered her appearance, though the lightning dancing its static step across the ocean often did allow her majestic silhouette to be spied atop the dunes. Both had issues with the other, issues that were trifling, unnecessary - issues that if they just talked about, would not even exist. Mirage had not liked how swiftly the stallion had gotten through her guard, how much information she had divulged to him - seemingly with little in return. She had offered him aid with her information, she supposed, and received his thanks. But she had also presented more of herself to him than she normally would have any other stranger - why? That was what bothered her the most. What was it about him that had driven her to go to such lengths?

A smile, invisible to any nearby, both due to the darkened lighting and the subtle nature of the mare, shadowed the corner of her devious lips. Mirage had worked out what the Moon God had meant; Mirage had found her other form. Magnificent and brilliant it was.. And now, here, she would summon it. Though the mare did not look forward to the pain she would have to endure.. It did not deter her from bowing her and summoning the Dark that would alter her form. Knees buckled beneath her as the painful rearranging of bones grinding and shifting took place. Suddenly, large leathery protrusions struck upwards from her shoulder blades, and the dock of her tail suddenly grew longer, and it swayed in the sand.

A darkness enveloped her, if it were a clear day all an outsider would see when looking upon her would be a bundle of shadowy mess - as it was, she blended in with the raging storm. Suddenly, a glow, golden and brilliant, began from the wispy draconic marking upon her nape, stretched and wrapped itself around her entire form. When it was gone, the stark darkness that was left behind was startling. Breaths that filled lungs larger than the previous mare that stood here were taken, deep and slow. A shiver rolled down the scaled spine of the golden dragon, whose eyes looked over the beach. Akaith chortled a greeting to the large beast that now stood atop the dune, her bonded of soul - the transformation would never change that.

A deep, rumbling laughter, that still maintained a feminine quality about it, rolled from the dragon's proud chest. Even in the cold, windy storm, heat radiated from her, a heat born of a fire within her, one that she had barely discovered - one that she kept within herself for now. Stretching her wings out carefully to ensure they did not get tossed around by the tempestuous weather, she wondered what she appeared to look like when a bright flash of lightning lit her up for all to see. Perhaps now, Lace would see her. Eyes that were now slitted, but still the same golden hue locked onto his form, their telescopic qualities holding onto him with the instincts of a predator - and yet, the mare knew that any meat she consumed would never come from a horse. Gently, her voice spoke one word, a subtle summon carried onto the wind - she was grateful her lips were not so hardened by the scaly hide that she could not speak, for she lacked the telepathic gifts of her smaller kin.

"Lace."

Perhaps now, they would learn what the outcome of this storm would be.

[ Just a note, this isn't the first time Mirage has used her new magic, I just sorely wanted to have her use it here, and will backdate another thread to make all her plots with her first discovering her magic fit in >_> ]

Reptilian flaps rose atop her head, ears that was reminiscent of her equine form, but held a definite draconic flair to them now. Two horns bent backwards just behind them, their points dulled, unsharpened. To an astute observer, one would notice the lack of foul breath upon her tongue, for there was no meat rotting within her belly - only a fire brewing within her fire stomach, which might lend a slightly charcoal small occasionally wafted from her. But that particular scent wasn't uncommon for the mare herself, always having Akaith's hot breath around.

As it was, Mirage could relate to poor Lace as he was forced to confront her in this form. Upon this very beach, she too had met with Jörmungandr, the great dragon of the ocean, and stood shivering in her hooves before his mammoth form. He had been larger than she was, even now, with her broad wingspan and long, muscular tail bulking up her mass. Idly she wondered how she would feel had he emerged from his watery depths now, with she in this form. Though she was a dragon, her instincts were still largely equine - her wings were as likely to take her away from danger as to bring her nearer to it.

So, in a way, the creature of glittering golden scales could sympathise with Lace, and she had to admire him for his resolve, even if he had come to the conclusion that by fleeing he would have only encouraged the predator within her to give chase. She might have seen him as suicidal, for though he kept a wary distance, he still stood before a most terrifying being, one capable of ripping him limb for limb. The sinewy muscles were clear and bulging along her lean, athletic form, holding her wings steady as the wing threatened to topple them over. An interesting exercise, she commented dryly to her bonded, who sent colours of amusement in response.

You are like a hatchling, learning her wings for the first time. To this Mirage allowed herself some humble amusement. Indeed I am, I feel like but a hatchling, barely scraping the shell's soft membrane aside as I open my eyes to what the world truly contains. Akaith continued to dance about the waves, but brought her play nearer to where Lace stood, both to offer the stallion some kind of comfort, some reminder of normalcy in this strange affair. Perhaps, in time, it would seem less strange. But then, the opposite was just as likely, perhaps none would ever get used to having a dragon in their midst.

"Perhaps." Mirage's smooth voice replied to the stallion's question, amusement thick in her tones - the mask of her transformation had stolen and replaced the mask of indifference her equine form usually hosted. With practised coordination, the dragon shifted weight, her majestic tiara turning to the right so that the elongated, wispy markings that were usually gold shimmered black against aureate scales along the length of her serpentine. It was the same marking, only reversed in colouration. It was this marking that had been her first clue as to the Moon Goddess' intentions for Mirage, but it had taken so long for the mare to come to this conclusion. To think, the Goddess was speaking the truth plainly that first day she suggested that the little shadowy mare was a dragon.

With the same careful, steady movements the dragon then folded her clawed legs beneath her, lowering her massive form to the sand, kneading it with her surprisingly dextrous foreclaws as she went. Abruptly her wings collapsed to her sides as well, and the dragon appeared much smaller, much less ferocious, than the great looming predator she had been while standing. A smile that could be described as nothing more or less than devious curved her lips, and sparkled behind her eyes, as she observed, silently, the silver grulla, testing his steadfastness when only moments before depression had clouded his entire being.

"The time between our first meeting and now has changed a great many things, has it not, Lace?"

He was angry. That much was obvious. It rolled off him in waves, radiating as if he were the sun radiating heat. The light banter she held behind her eyes had been interpreted a way the dragon-mare had not expected; then she wondered just how he would have reacted had she hidden her amused glance. It faded now, the golden one's façade resettling to show nothing more than indifference as to whether the stallion was there or not, stony and set, her slitted eyes narrowed upon him, sharp, slicing right through his insides. She longed to know why, why was he feeling this way, when their first meeting he had been so pleasant, enough so that she had longed to converse with him again? What had changed?

"Be assured, I have not changed, I am, as always, true to myself." The voice was quieter now, and yet seemed to hold more volume, more dimensions of meaning. The DragonHeart enjoyed games, so much so that if she could survive on games alone, she would. But while she enjoyed causing mild irritation, and perhaps testing the wits of another, she never liked to see another in distress, never liked to feel as if she were the cause of said distress. The dragon had grown serious now, her scaled visage set in a vacant stare as she observed the stallion shut his eyes and have his own inner quarrel.

It was not her, who had caused the distress then, though she doubted she had been helpful in what was meant to be playful antics. Miscommunication; even Mirage was prone to it, she who knew that things often went so wrong just because of a handful of words spoken in a vague manner, or interpreted in a way dissimilar to their original intention. She regretted her actions that had perhaps hindered the stallion's progress towards winning his inner battle, but was also resigned to the fact that there was little she could do to change what had already been written in the past. Weary eyes stared back at her, golden, equine eyes, as Lace finally appeared so close to succumbing to whatever darkness was consuming him.

But his words, they were hurtful. The Qian was truly one sure way to touch the mare where it was sensitive, and a touch too hot or too cold was simply not acceptable. The black slits of her golden eyes shrunk, becoming barely visible as she refocussed on this silver grulla, surprising even herself at the low utterance of a growl rumbling about her gullet. It was as if she could not control it, for her expression remained otherwise clear and passive, but her chest brewed a growl that resembled the sound an earthquake makes as it shifts land atop tectonic plates.

"You go too far, Lace." Her voice was simple, not accusing, sad or angry, but plainly speaking facts in way that may have made it seem like he already knew this. "Knowledge of the Qian's activities were available to you once. You had a choice." With a small shrug of her shoulder the dragon dismissed the words. The dragon-mare needn't remind him of his choice to continue on in Helovia without her knowledge as a guide. Life as a vagabond gave one a sense of 'freedom', but was one truly free, especially if they could never escape their own horrors? "My purpose here will be revealed in due time, I expect." Cryptic as always, she remarked on his direct query at her, jaw clacking shut at the end of her sentence with a firm thunk.

"I see change, but I do not see the reason." Though she had her suspicions, having been victim to torrents of darkness and depression before. If not for Akaith, much like Fajira to Lace, Mirage would not be before him today. A shiver twitched the scales along her spine at the memory of it. Friends had come to her that day, friends who were of the Qian, friends who were of her heart. Did Lace have none of these? Mirage's methods were only for the strong, and she knew him to be strong of min, and that most important of all.