Things were moving beautifully, coming together like a jigsaw set beneath hands that had already learned their grooves and places in the grand scheme. At times the king felt like an architect, a craftsman of words and promises that had brought together a tentative house around his family. It required constant upkeep, a worrying hand and a determined mindset to keep it from toppling. Yet they had slowly but surely threaded themselves into the tapestry; a new Edge, one that Kaj often hoped was a better one. It had taken a ridiculous amount of time, and the anxiety had often been nigh crippling for the buckskin brute, but it had been worth it in the end. The Edge was peaceful, calm. Beyond that, it was thriving. Mere moons ago he had attended the birth of Areli, Parelia's daughter. Their scavenger hunt was in full swing, the Edge Games flourishing beneath the joyous attention of the Sunshower and Gentle Heart.

Peace had been hard to attain, at times, but Kaj wore his scars with pride and hoped with every new morn that he would be a leader worthy of his flock's respect and trust. So far, he believed he had proven himself, but there were always new challenges and intricacies to the day. One such had wandered onto his doorstep with a purpose, so perhaps wandering was not an accurate description for how he had come across them. They were respectful, and had he been in the vicinity he would have been a welcoming host. Instead, it was their music that touched his aurals. The familiar dragon song twisted and tied with a voice he knew could no longer be, and their symphony wrung an array of emotions from the pitiful meat of his heart.

He took to wing like a startled pheasant, flying low and fast on heavy wings with his heart like granite in his chest. It hurt to hope, but a piece of him prayed that Mirage and Rishima had genuinely returned, that he could fall to their hooves and tell them how much they meant to him. Apologize. He'd never gotten the chance, all those seasons ago. They'd disappeared without ever hearing how much he loved them, cherished them. And though he knew it was a fool's desire he couldn't resist imagining that their faces would be the one to greet him when he made it to the borders.

Though he had attempted not to fall to the idea of his fantasy, his heart seemed to crack that little bit more when he allowed himself to fall from the skies, an arrow in the side of the mighty eagle as he fell beneath the weight of his own desires. He knew them, and it hurt to see Mirage and Rishima staring back at him from their young faces. He felt old and broken, all triumph of his day shattered by the ghosts he stared down at his borders. One of them had been present when Satanic Silk had propositioned him for his spark magic, and he recalled the pain when he had mistakenly called her by her mother's name. Did she miss Rishima as much as he did?

And Amaris...

Semira had returned to the Edge, and he recalled how she had come to him, how they had embraced and mourned the absence of Vikram and Mirage together. How, caught in his bloodrage against Aurelia, Semira had met him in the skies with a cry of 'uncle'. How it had broken his heart and mended it simultaneously to know that she held such a depth of affection for him. Standing before them, he felt inadequate. Lost.

"Tandavi. Amaris. Welcome to the Edge," it physically hurt him to not slip up and say welcome home. They were not his to tend after any longer, the desert thick and hot on their coats. He turned his eyes to Amaris and smiled faintly. "Your sister is safe, here. I can call her after we are done, perhaps?" It was hard not to just sweep forward and embrace them. He loved them, as he had loved their mothers, and to know he could not was agonizing. "What can I do for you?" Lest he forget they were not there for him and his ghosts.

They crumple like foil, and though he does not take joy from seeing their expressions so raw and wounded, the king cannot help but feel as if he has done them some sort of good. The familial relation between the two is unmistakable, as his knowledge of their mothers lent him insight to their bloodline. Family was something different for Kaj. Family was singular, clasped in the loving eyes of a sickly face and a sister too frail for the weight of the cruelty the world pressed upon those strong enough to bear it. They fight a battle in their hearts, and it would do well to calm his mind and give him peace to know they wished to rush to his sides as much as he desired to clasp them tight there. Blood had always run thick between the Throat and the Edge, but to see them so close and yet know they were so, so far away from him...it was like setting his soul steadily aflame.

Their silence is all he needs to read their despair, their conflict. Respectfully he shifts his gaze away, sparing them their dignity, for they are old enough now to hold such ideals. Allows them to recover, to digest. It is only fair that he give them time, after the shell he had dropped upon their unsuspecting heads. Perhaps it was cruel of him to do so in such a manner, but there was no real tactful way to go about reuniting lost family members that he'd unknowingly held within his flock.

"I apologize, I know it must be a shock," he murmured, hoping to comfort them, show them that they need not put on brave faces for his sake. Nostalgia was a strong emotion, and it swept him into a place he did not like to be, especially when on official business. For it was clear that was what they'd come for, not to entertain an old man with tales of the past. Or rather, it appeared that would have been his job. Once upon a time, where things were different, where their mothers did not disappear on smoke and sad reflections. Where they were allowed a solid home to live in, where the wraiths had never come into being.

It is Amaris who speaks first, and he wonders if his relationship with her could have been deeper had she sought him out in the Edge the moment she'd come back. If she would call him uncle as her sister did. Had he lost that chance, with her? Would she ever see him as anything other than a distant memory, a fond babysitter, a friend of her parents?

He forces himself to focus on her words instead, the gratitude she expresses in the soft lilt that reminds him of Mirage's composed mannerisms. It brings a bittersweet smile to his lips in echo to her sentiments. "Of course, child. It is the least I could do." They deserved so much better than Kaj could give, but in the end, he could at least reunite them. He hoped Mirage approved, wherever she was. Would she laugh fondly to see him grown from the awkward, quiet Guard he'd once been? Or would she begrudge him his position, his mistakes?

He liked to think the former, but his nightmares preferred the latter.

Business comes to call sooner rather than later, and Parelia's presence at his side is a surprising comfort for the distraction it poses. His crown dipped towards her in automatic response, and he smiled, shaking himself subtly and lifting his shoulders to try and better his mood and focus. They are here on a mission, one he will not fail them in. "A quest you say?" It is not a pry for more information, rather an expression of respectful interest. He smiles quietly, glances over at Parelia for a moment before turning his gaze to the young ladies gathered before him.

"Speak not of payment. Our families are at peace, the Edge would be honored to aid in such an important endeavor. It shall be sent at only the price of your time," he assured. Turning to Parelia, he gestured to the glass wall nearby. They were already patiently recycling it, it would only serve their purposes further. "Parelia, if you would? Be as creative as you desire, I suspect there are no restrictions?" A quick glance towards the girls for confirmation before he turns back to Parelia, patiently awaiting for her to take the task beneath her capable mind and mold it into something beautiful and useful in tandem.

Parelia's shift towards him drew his attention, a magnet to a viable charge, and he smiled subtly down at her. Kaj was grateful for her presence, for the mediation it brought between his warring sorrow and joy at seeing the two young mares before him. He had seen them as mere children, to gaze upon them as lead and charge made him feel as if he had somehow failed them. Budding tears were thrust back, into the recesses of his emotions. Surely they would emerge later, in the privacy of the forest where nobody could see his weakness. He had failed too often, to heavily, for him to forgive himself with ease. Instead, he extended one wing to cover the small distance between himself and Parelia, hoping to ruck their feathers together and take comfort and strength from her innocence. Her naive faith in him, in a soul she couldn't see was soiled.

Two words vanish like smoke from Tandavi's lips, and he can see the weight of leadership echoed from his shoulders to her own. Though it is a proud title to hold, he also feels nothing but regret, to see her weighed down by troubles he had never wished upon her. Yet there was nothing he could have done to spare her. She lived outside his realm, in a place where he could not reach her, protect her. The hole in his chest ached all the fiercer for that knowledge.

A patient smile heals the raw edges, to see her struggle and wince adorably with the formality of her words. It would grow easier with time, Kaj knew, but it was nice to see that she was still partially the little filly he remembered. That she hadn't changed too much in his absence, prolonged as it was. His smile was encouraging, patient in a way that no other leader perhaps would have been, and for that he was glad that she had time to practice on him, whom she knew. It is only tainted by the sorrowful understanding as she says that the Edge will always be home to her. For it would always open its arms to her, to Amaris, and yet he also knew with a new ache to his heart that it would never happen. For they would never stray, would never seek his side nor his wisdom anymore. They were growing, blooming, and their roots would end up reaching too deep into desert soil to ever be uprooted for childhood memories and nostalgias.

For, as Tandavi had said, they had outgrown it.

Kaj hated the weakness he showed in that moment, but he ducked his head to bear the words the best he could, shuddering beneath its weight. It took mere moments, to compose himself, but it was moments too long in his eyes. So when talk of alliance touched his ears, he refrained from shaking his head immediately, not wanting to break their hearts by telling them how much the Edge had changed. How they couldn't possibly accept an alliance, couldn't afford to show favoritism. Instead he did so slowly, minutely, barely a pass of his cranium from side to side to show his momentary answer as words mixed and decided themselves upon his tongue.

"I cannot give you an answer immediately, my child. This is talk meant to be shared with my people, with my Queen. But I will hold it close at mind and heart, and tell you our answer as soon as I am able," he promised softly, and he hoped they still took those, at least, with some amount of value. They are interrupted easily by Parelia, holding out the little glass bauble for it to be taken by the vixen at Tandavi's hooves. Amaris is first to express gratitude, appreciation for his Glazier's efforts and talent. Nodding his head in both quiet awe and appreciation for the pegasus at his side, he turned his gaze easily upon the dragon child, seeing some sort of conflict in the expanse of her face.

A smile spread on his lips, reaching forth to embrace Amaris, their muzzles meeting brief and soft as they exchanged scents. She stepped ever closer, and Kaj echoed each step, using his superior height to drape his neck over the youth and squeeze her tight in turn. It eased the pain of his heart, to have her close and warm against him. Letting her go was far harder than he had anticipated, but it had to be done, and he tried to put on an understanding smile for the both of them.

"May your journeys be safe, your hearts light. We are always here, should you need us," he spoke softly, meant only for them. It would be infinitely harder to see them go, but he had to respect that they were grown mares now. He could not hold them any longer.