She was a moonbeam trickling through leafing branches, a final winter wind stirring the nodding buds of the first flowers of spring. Her step was silent as a breath (a very hoarse and oddly loud breath) and her passing went completely unnoticed (save from the clever, cunning birds that cascaded from their perch among the brambles). From the north she had come, following in the wake of the Golden Lord ever since he left the Aurora Basin. Whenever she grew tired or wanted to quit this dangerous game of stealth Mother was there with encouraging smiles and whispered praise, urging her on, ever on.

"If you insist on going out on your own all the time, at least let me teach you how to become a shadow. So that whenever trouble finds you, all you have to do is slip into the background, listen and learn, and return to me unharmed."

That was what mother had said, and reluctantly the winter princess had accepted. Not in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that Mother would take it this seriously however; never in her life had Erthë been so tired, stumbled so many times or been so scared that someone would turn around and notice her. Mother had never been stern towards her before but now she would tolerate no mistakes. Any act of clumsiness was met with those vibrant amethyst eyes, hard as gems and without mercy, and so the filly found herself forced to learn fast - with the unspoken threat of returning home and staying beneath her parents watchful eyes for the rest of her life.

Mountains fell away and forest took over and so far nothing eventful had happened. But now that the nature of the forest changed, the child hesitated in her step, faltering as the vegetation grew denser, taller, greener in a shade she hadn't seen before. There was a feeling to this place that she remembered only too vividly, that brought to mind a red forest and the bleeding carcass of a god being ripped into by greedy soldiers hungry for tokens and tributes... The battle haunted her dreams every night, and the thought of walking straight towards another one made her feel cold with dread.

But Shadow urged her on, disbelieving at first but increasingly tense as the winding paths brought them further into the depths of the labyrinth. She held Erthë back as they heard voices up ahead, took over the lead and brought them closer slowly, carefully, until they could both see and hear without being seen.

Erthë peered out from under her mothers belly, wide eyed and fearful as she looked out across the gathered horses. It gave her a strange feeling of deja-vu to witness the scenery before her; it was the same sparkling strangers with confused, wary looks upon their faces, the same faces she recognized from the battlefield, the very same tension in the air. It all emanated from a single quiet person, and in watching her the foal felt her breath leave in a soft, awestruck sigh. If this was not a god like the Time one, no one was. Never in her life had the child seen anyone as beautiful, as mysterious and powerful as this lady.

"Mom, who is she?" the moon-bright filly breathed, oblivious to anything else. Her feet carried her forward, past her mother and out into the clearing, only vaguely registering the presence of two - no three - kind mares who previously had sacrificed their own safety to protect her. A poor way to repay the kindness, walking into danger like this. But Erthë was blind to everything but the lavender queen, the Lady above all, and didn't listen to Shadow's hissed orders.

She simply wanted to get closer so she could admire the goddess from up close.