It was now or never. He had been given a chance to repay a friend for her kindness, and if he passed up on it now there was no telling when the next chance would come. Perhaps it wouldn't, and he would remain forever weighed down by debts and unfulfilled wishes - not a very pleasant prospect.

As Lace moved up to battlefield and slipped in among the Qian and their allies, he began to question the need for his presence. It appeared that almost all able horses that could stand up, see lightning and hear thunder was gathering along the border, with the only remaining ones being the horned defenders of the Edge. From his place close to the rear of the army it was hard to make out any details, but Fajira passed him a view from above where she circled, keeping herself at a distance from him. It was unnecessary to shout out that the dexterous and fit, but otherwise rather unassuming soldier was linked to one of the dragons - it was an advantage that could potentially save his life at some point.

The stallion frowned slightly at what the White conveyed to him of battle order and defense lines, and mulled it over while listening with half an ear to a mare that was shouting out orders not far from where he stood. She looked familiar and he was sure he should know who she was, but the distractions were plentiful around him and didn't allow for deeper contemplation. It was enough to him that she was taking charge and providing some sort of order to a situation that easily could become chaotic. Despite the fact that their numbers were larger, the army consisted of three separate unities that weren't used to fighting together, if they had even had any training at all recently. Qian or allied with Qian, the reasons for being there were differing greatly - when the unicorns they were facing not only knew and trusted each other intimately but also fought for a common cause, namely to defend their own home.

Nostrils flared in a faint sigh, and as he waited for the order to charge the silver grulla felt oddly separated from the actions around him, as always when he was going into battle. Even as he felt the heartbeat race within the chest and found his feet trampling the ground restlessly in agitation, his mind calmly contemplated his own reasons for being there. The shouts and insults that hailed from one side of blood-thirsty soldiers to the other faded to the background, as did the challenging cries of dragons and other critters that walked with their bonded and companions. Fajira's voice resounded fainly in his mind as she found Akaith and Mirage in the front, greeting them with loud trills and impressing aerial displays that showed off how fit and healthy and ready she was for this; even as she informed the Gold and the WeyrLeader through mental links that he was there to help, it too did little to distract him.

He was calm, composed. A being of flesh and bones with a heart of steel that prepared to bleed and die for something that his friend believed that her family deserved. The stallion thought about all the wars he had fought during the years, and by doing so he came to realize that it wasn't for the sake of the Qian he was there. It wasn't for land, or glory, or for the sake of the grand future that could arise from the outcome of this single battle. Lace would fight, but it would be because Mirage was there.

He didn't believe her cause justified the pain and death and sadness that would come of this, that would ignite the air and spread hatred like a wildfire across the hearts of those present. And he didn't have to believe in it; he just had to believe in her.

A weight lifted almost visibly from the striped shoulders. With a sharp snort the knight returned to reality and was almost overwhelmed by the heat of bodies that surrounded him, the rumble of voices speaking to one another and to enemies across the invisible line that separated them from the others. In the air lay a scent of sweat, fear, anxiety and anticipation so thick that it was almost tangible, and he breathed it all in in big gulps that sent adrenaline coursing through the blood. Golden eyes began to gleam, and as the tension built almost to the point of agony in his muscles a grin began to tug at the sooted maw - one of eagerness, confidence and grim pleasure. Finally the time had come to leave the thinking behind and do what he had been trained to do.

No longer either sinner or saint, the soldier found himself cleared from inner conflict, free to let go of any and all thoughts. He was already tainted, so what harm could there be in looking forward to a chance of testing his limits against others, feel the clash of bodies and sing the songs of battle? Once again he would dance to the drum of war, and may the fates be kind enough to allow him and his bonded the chance to see the lights of another day.

That was really all he wished for.