I fly at speed, dipping and diving, challenging the wind to a game of tug o’ war as it runs its gusty fingers through my murky mane. I probably have things to tend to; matters that needed addressing or perhaps I should bite the bullet and go find Midas. There were many things I wish to speak with the Gallant about, why he does what he does, what spurs his decisions? Because he never made one with a stutter or a doubt, at least, it seemed that way to me. Why were we trying to bargain an alliance with the Worlds Edge? It was times like this that I felt vulnerable in my position, I hadn’t seen a battlefield strewn with injured kin and I knew very little of inter-herd tactics. If it was just me then I know we would live out our lives by our own means instead of pandering to other foreign herds to just feel safe. What was Midas afraid of? Surely it would be greater for us to not be in debt nor be burdened down with promises, oaths. I’m sure, as well, that our ascended hero would honour each oath he made, because, wasn’t that the kind of stallion he was? I take my air acrobatics elsewhere, crossing the Falls border and away, I haven’t been to the caves for some time perhaps I shall go there.

My thoughts ravage me still as I travel, I fear my mind is becoming my greatest enemy, always so many questions and yet so little answers. It was like I was missing something big and it was staring at me in the face. No, that couldn’t be it. There was no way that I, Ghost, could miss something if it was so obvious. The shadows missed nothing and no matter how arrogant I may sound; I missed very little too. The crashing water, the vibrant green, the rolling hills, it was all mine to watch and protect; I knew every inch of my land. The wicked coils of my selfish pride wouldn’t allow me to think any less of myself; I am what I am, but you may challenge me if you wish.

Time passed, I took shelter where I could and journeyed on short rests until finally my wings carried me to the caves entrance where the scent of many lingered. The smell was still fresh, was there really that many horses nearby?! What on earth was going on! I move swiftly down into Sanctuary and my gaze snaps to the focus of attention, another dead body. How many had she seen now? This time it was that of a boy with the same trademark gashes across his body and, by his mane, were fragments of crystal. However, this was a different kind of precious stone to that which glowed in the cave. Why would the killer leave something so precious? Was whatever it was close to being caught or did such trinkets mean nothing? Perhaps this killer was only in it for the blood and the thrill.

With a grimace, I survey the scene once again, taking in each detail before fleeing the cave and its inhabitants; my team must know of this.

[The Unorthodox Four]