AHRIMAN

Darkness there, and nothing more

The orange moonlight stretched out its fingers to the youthful ghost, caressing him, reflecting itself in his pale hide. He was a child of summer, unfamiliar with the harsh cold of orangemoon and frostfall. With naive eyes, he watched as the lands turned into fiery shades of orange, red and brown, how the wind was suddenly sharp and he could see his breath on the night air. His curiosity seemed never satisfied, excited to experience this new change on his own body. Ahriman was going through a change within himself as well, growing increasingly independent from his dam, wandering often from her side to explore the world that lay at his feet. This night, she did not know he had gone; he had left her asleep, making sure not to wake her as he snuck off. Mothers weren’t supposed to know everything you did, not to say she wouldn’t let him go anywhere in the middle of the night. Now, he had gotten away, and could finally venture where he wanted.

There was no real reason that he had chosen this exact place. Ahriman liked the rugged grounds, climbing up the narrow path further and further, until he stood at a large, flat field. Never before had he been this far up; had it not been dark, the view would’ve certainly been remarkable, but by the light of the moon and the stars, the lands below had been reduced to faint shadows of black and grey. The pale child stepped daintily, mulberry eyes diverted from the horizon to the plain on which he walked. His childish frame was starting to mature, body filling in to make his appearance less leggy, tresses growing longer and silkier. His coat was growing thicker to prepare for the colder months, yet it still shone brightly under the orange moonlight. Delicate lobes were turned forward as he spotted a stallion, grazing in the night. Ahriman stalled in his tracks, watching from a distance, entirely visible on the flat field as he pondered whether to approach.

At first, he wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea; stranger stallions could be aggressive towards foals as himself, but there was something peaceful about the setting. Clever eyes drifted to a pale shadow, perched on a stone not far from the stallion. A dragon. Ahri felt a smile appear on his lips; and his dam had told him many great stories of dragons from their homeland, and Mirage’s Akaith was always good fun. His curiosity was definitely tickled, wanting to know more about this dragon-wielding steed. So, he set forward again, in a slow stroll. Light glistened in his eyes as he settled for a spot at a polite distance from the stallion, closer to the dragon. He stretched out his maw in a friendly gesture to the small white, seeing that it was as pale as the fur he himself was born to wear. ”I like your dragon,” the babe spoke softly, grave eyes turned to the stallion. Ahriman was very much like a tiny adult in a child’s body; being the first born of a single mother had taught him maturity, even if his mother had not willed it. ”My name is Ahriman,” he said, remembering his curtesies.

Mothers may not be watching, but someone always is.

The little golden queen knew all too well the wandering ways of the pale little colt. But she was hardly going to stop him! For if she roused the mother to the colt every time he wandered, she would hardly get to have some fun with him.

The bonded to this little gold thought a bit differently, yet was willing to allow the colt his indulgence. Let him have his innocence, let him explore, let him learn. A smile traced her lips, as with her cloak in place, she followed him, a shimmering shadow upon the lands. Footsteps were swallowed up by the night, the colt too focussed upon his journey to even notice that he was being tracked. Akaith flew high in the skies, her golden frame hidden in the night sky.

That is, until the moon rose. She appeared a strange crimson gold under tonight's moonlight, deep and rich, but still with the hint of her magnificent topaz hue peeking through. Still, she flew onwards, her draconic abilities lending her information of just who might be in the field at the top of the mountain they climbed.

Amusement simmered through the mare as she watched the colt approach the stallion, as he greeted the little white dragon and then the silver grulla stallion beside her. The night was still, making it all the more eerie with the scarlet hue cast over the lands. The mare turned her golden eyes to the moon, as she so often had done in her life. She had seen a harvest moon before, she remembered from her time in her birthlands, a mountain where the view was such that it only showed the moon under a red blanket. Red Moon Mountain, she recalled, also idly thinking that tonight, these Heavenly Fields had become that very mountain.

The little shadow held her step a moment longer, for she was curious to see the reaction Lace would give to the colt before she made her appearance known. Akaith concurred, and kept her flight muffled, her metallic form within the trees, though there was always the chance that Fajira would know of her presence in that peculiar way that most dragons seemed to know where the other was.

Soon enough, however, anticipation brought hooves into motion and her shimmering cloak dripped away from her, the shadows seemingly still clinging to her dark bodice, as she made her way across the field. Akaith entered with far more celebratory actions, singing a colourful chorus for the little white she was sure was a great friend, even despite the colour that usually labelled the white as a runt. The bond Fajira shared with Lace had allowed the little white to fulfil her potential as a dragon where wild life may not have, Akaith saw this for what it was and appreciated her friend's existence all the more - and Mirage in turn appreciated Lace all the more, on Akaith's behalf.

The dark mare reached out to the pale colt with her velvet maw, her lips folding around his stringy mane and gently giving him a firm tug. It was playful, but also gently chiding him. "Your mother would worry, Ahriman, if she knew just how far your feet could carry you now." Amusement lingered behind her tones, the colt was growing fast, relying less and less on the milk his mother's teats gave him, growing strong enough too swiftly to discover the world for his own.

"Lace, by the light of the harvest moon, it is good to see you." Her golden gaze was tinted that same curious rose gold as Akaith's own hide, the same hue that Lace's deep, piercing gaze was stained. A smile glowed behind those eyes. Mirage was glad to see him again.

AHRIMAN

Darkness there, and nothing more

That someone would have followed him there had not crossed his mind; he had not heard or scented anything that could indicate the presence of another. Might be he had been too consumed by his exploration to stay alert, but right now his attention was upon the stallion and dragon before him. And she likes you. A smile slipped upon his tiny maw when the stranger spoke the words, mulberry eyes diverted back to the white dragon as she bumped her nose against his in friendly greeting. Ahriman bowed his head respectfully in return. “Pleasure meeting you, Lace. And you too, Fajira,” he spoke in his youthful tune, relaxing himself a little bit when proven that the stranger pair was of good intentions. Fajira ruffled his short ribbons while cooing at him, and he chuckled softly at her. When she suddenly stiffened and then lurched up into the air, the colt took a step back in surprise, lobes flickering for a second as his eyes darted to Lace. That was when he saw.

If he could, he would’ve definitely blushed, for it was Mirage that he saw there, the WeyrLeader. She was like a second mother to him, a strong personality that he instinctively admired, so that she should catch him sneaking around was most embarrassing. He shifted daintily on his feet as she approached, her maw stretched out to pull at his mane softly, and he whinnied in greeting. Your mother would worry. Yes, he knew; but she wouldn’t have to. “What she won’t know won’t hurt her – please don’t tell her, Mirage! I’m not out for trouble,” he spoke, eyes slightly wide by the thought of having his dam scolding when he got back. Lace came to his aid, advocating that there are some things mothers do not need to know, and Ahriman nodded eagerly in agreement. That was when he noticed the smile on the stallion’s face and was not surprised as the two greeted one another by name.

Ahriman disliked how the conversation of adults was often too sophisticated to be picked up by his young ears, how some of the finesse and nuances in words got lost. To think that he was the son of Mirage was absurd, even if for a jest; a colt as white as snow with a lithe build and a mare as black as night with draft influence in her stature. Had he been a little older, he might’ve picked up on the joke, but for now he just wagged his fluffy tail lazily and watched the dragons greet each other as well. He wanted a dragon as well, when he grew up; he promised himself that he would get one.

Talk of mothers inevitably brought memories of her own dancing before her eyes. Her mother, Anei, named for the very creatures from which she was born, shadows. Stories of the Lady of the Night whom danced the dangerous step through life alongside the enormous, furious flame that was Voraer ran rampart within her, stories that she could never speak to another besides her own siblings; for they were the ones who told her of them. Only a year had she spent by the sides of her beloved parents, so young had she been forced to grow up, to learn that life was unfair, cruel, dark and desolate. Though the silver steed before her spoke with humour lacing his tones, a sense of kindred spirits also grazed the mare's conscience, as her golden eyes, so curious, and so openly, willingly ready to dive into his own, wondered at the breath of sadness that dared to mar the stallion's handsome façade. Of course, she then recalled his story - he had been trained a warrior from when he could walk, taken from the teats of his beloved maternal carer and forced into work. The mare could only imagine at that upbringing, and yet, she selfishly did not regret the life he had lived; for if he had lived it any other way, he probably would not be standing here before her, swiftly becoming a new friend whom she could trust. It was that moment she had glanced into his sadness that she felt her own weakness, her own small, subtle display of nostalgic depression, but it was one she had long learned to accept, though reflecting upon could have its negative effects sometimes. How she wished to shake Ahriman and tell him to stop running away from his mother, to treasure every moment he had with her - and yet, she instead recovered swiftly, and laughed an angelic, harmonic melody across the fields, both at Ahriman's and Lace's words to her.

"I've no intention of causing her to worry, fear not boys, we need only pray she sleeps deeply tonight so that we can slip you back in beside her without her knowing any different." With a playful smirk and a forgiving gaze the WeyrLeader allowed a winked to fold over her left eye, she rubbed her velvet maw against the little colt's shoulder with great affection. Despite his father, and the means of his conception, the mare was more than willing to allow the colt to grow into himself, to realise his full potential and prove it to the world. It was by her word that the Qian would protect him from the evils that undoubtedly blinded his father, a serpent-like stallion unworthy of being allowed to walk the same earth as they. The mare did wonder at just how much Daenerys shared with the colt, but would not interfere with matters that were definitely, better left to the capable hooves of the mother. An incredulous look crossed her face then, though it was still subtle in its animation - when one showed no emotions at all for most of the time, it only took very little for a great change to be apparent - as she refocussed upon Lace, knowing full well that his words were in jest, but feeling the need to reprimand him nonetheless. Akaith came to her rescue then, chortling a greeting to the young Ahriman, before flying low over Lace - too low, as one of her wings made to slap straight into his neck on her way past. It was a draconic equivalent of a slap upside the head of a foolish young boy. Musical tones entered the atmosphere again as the little shadow mare was reduced to soft, gentle laughter once again, amusement clear behind her eyes, that seemed to hold rich, dense droplets of gold within them.

"Busy indeed." She decided to simply nod her head, not even completely aware of what she was agreeing to now. Laughter helped to cleanse the oppressive sadness that sometimes wreaked havoc upon the precious balance of emotions Mirage kept heavily guarded within herself; she wondered at whether Lace had attempted to bring laughter from her throat on purpose, or if it was just happenstance that the situation allowed for such carefree abandon. A sigh racked her frame, divulging into a gentle, barely-there snort. "The time is drawing near. Ensuring the youngest of the Qian understand the importance of staying safe," her tones taunted the small colt with gentle playfulness, another nudge given before the mare slung her tiara over his form and held him close against her chest in an equine embrace, "in such delicate times takes as much effort as preparing one's body for… whatever may come." The Qian was about protecting loved ones; all who were a part of it became a loved one. Just because she was Leader did not mean she neglected anyone in the name of other duties; she was perfectly capable of being a babysitter, just as she would fight in the upcoming battle, she would later help Daenerys rock the child to sleep in their new home. Being Leader meant that they looked to her for guidance, that they respected her, loved her - it did not give her leave off any duties, rather it simply gave her more. Which was, in a way, a fortunate happenstance, for the little shadow did not enjoy to grow bored.

The stallion hummed and nodded at the words of the mare, eyes dancing with a silent laughter as she walked straight into his trap seemingly without noticing. Mirth bubbled within, and burst forth like a fountain of soft laughter as the golden dragon slapped her wing over his neck. He realized the reprimand for what it was, but rather than to feel ashamed or settle back into a seriousness that probably would have been more proper, he flung the head up and snapped playfully after her disappearing tail. So she wanted to play? Oh he could play!

With a wide grin spread over the sooted features the gilded grulla looked back at Mirage and the foal. "Busy is as busy does, so how about taking a break for once?" The silvery neck arched, weight shifting to the powerful thighs and propelled him upwards, a movement as controlled and elegant as were it part of a dance. He laughed, then lunched forth into a high kneed passage that brought him around the shadow and the moonbeam, round and round until he suddenly reached out and placed a playful nip on the Dragonheart's rump. Hooves drummed against the ground as he threw himself to the side, bucking and setting off across the meadow like a madman, crushing flowers and greenery and sending a fragrant scent into the air, of autumn and night and all things pretty and wonderful.

He didn't want to talk about war and serious things right now. Under the light of the harvest moon the night was far too pleasant to waste on grim discussions. He'd rather run with his friends, dance and play and behave like a rambunctious colt, in a way he hadn't done for many years. He laughed as Fajira flew over to Ahriman and placed herself in the air above the young gentleman, their colors blending and making it appear as though they were one being, of fur and scales and glimmering wings.

"I bet I can beat you to the other end of the field!" he challenged the shadow mare, effectively eliminating any chance of her returning to serious matter - or so he hoped, at least. Perhaps she wasn't one for running and playing? Though with the display of a dragon form upon a stormy beach fresh in memory, somehow he seriously doubted it. She had a dragons soul, and the aerial acrobats always seemed ready to enjoy themselves given the slightest of opportunities.

""

AHRIMAN

Darkness there, and nothing more

Ahriman loved his mom. She was all the family he had, well blood-related anyhow, and she was young and cheerful. But she worried about him the entire time and it drove the little colt to his small rebellions, like wandering the night without her knowledge. It did not cross his mind that one day, she might not be there to scold him or do anything at all, for he was too young to think on such grave matters. His father he hadn’t spilled many thoughts on, but lately, the mystery that was his sire had started to arise in his consciousness at an increasing rate. He wondered why mother would not talk of him, why she slipped past his questions with a smile and a sad look in her eyes, but it kept him from asking. Might be he would just have to settle for the uncertainty and live with it. Now that he was granted a large extended family in the Qian, he probably wouldn’t miss a father he never knew.

Lobes perked at Mirage’s laughter, and he whinnied excitedly when she nudged his shoulder. He giggled when the dragon slapped Lace on the neck, falling silent when Mirage wrapped her nape around him lovingly. Tiny maw reached out to brush against her shoulder in a friendly gesture, glancing at Lace and hoping the older stallion wouldn’t laugh at him. It was a little embarrassing, like your mom kissing your cheek in front of strangers that you’d like to somewhat impress, but he went along with it. Ahri seemed to completely change his mind as the larger stallion started circling them. He felt a small pang of uncertainty once more, pressing tight against the flank of the shadowed mare next to him, deciding that moms were for rather good use after all.

Fajira came over to him and he felt reassured, rearing up to snap at the dragoness playfully. Lace set off and Ahri flicked his lobes for a second before lunging himself forward into a rambunctious gallop. The length of his legs made it look somewhat hazardous, like they would tangle around themselves at any moment, but he had sufficient practice to make sure he wouldn’t be toppling over. Throwing his hinds up in the air, he bucked impressively, staggering a little to regain his balance, loving the feeling of the chill autumn air through his short mane. He glanced up and saw Fajira, and he smiled and whickered at her, trying to keep up with the silver stallion that was running ahead.

Reaching the other end of the field, the colt gasped for breath, dropping himself in the grass as long as he was, while taking a breather. Raising his head, he peered up at Lace and smiled. “When I grow up, I want to be just as fast as you,” he spoke in his light voice, feeling relieved by the run and not caring to sound the least bit grown-up. Rolling in the grass, he rubbed his back and sighed in pleasure. He wanted the moment to last forever, feeling the sweet exhaustion tingle in his legs, and for a few moments he struggled to keep his eyes open before dozing off into a light, pleasant sleep.

[They can continue adult talk, Ahri is taking a nap <3]