Oh God,
what have you taught me?

Your gift,
this heart upon my sleeve:
the reaper's bleeding timepiece.




Ashamin ran through the throng, forgetting his fears, thinking only of Tiamat. He ran forward desperately, every step a signal fire and every beating of his own heart a painful cry. Tiamat.

So preoccupied was he that he barely saw where he was going, and ran into yet another fellow helovian. There was no time to apologize, only time to grunt and push past the further bruising of his shoulder and turn his ears and magic back to listen to the heartbeat of the poor soul in his way. He recognized Ilios, now, from the threshold. He heard the young pegasus' heartbeat, a steady thump, dragging itself about along an even keel. What was that, then? It couldn't be collectedness, not in the face of this horrible fight, could it be?

It occurred to Ashamin, then, that perhaps his own heartbeat was the only one moving so fast. Were all others here so noble and brave that their hearts were steady and true? Was he alone terrified of the wolves snapping at his hocks, was he the only one screaming with pain of this fear?

Had he turned to look, he would have seen Ilios' injured state, the striking of rock against head that was likely slowing his system. But Ashamin did not turn and look, he could not. He felt only the crushing of bodies and wolves, falling into acid and nothing at his strike. It burned, too, but it was success. He knew this. Ashamin knew this as he slid to a stop before Tiamat, finally reached her, finally protected her, and crushed another wolf beneath his weight.

His hocks ached and his breath was caught in a tremor, but he was there, and he had done as he had hoped. And as the Goddess of the Moon tore the Wolf God asunder, Ashamin watched and listened to the hearts of those around him. A dark winged mare (Ranjiri) with a fast steady beat as she moved across the battlefield, the moon's demi-god son with the quick and curious heart that seemed to radiated confidence. Were all so collected?

He felt the healing wind sweep across the scene and the sense of chaos subside, but still his own heart beat faster and he sent it out into the scene, seeking those like it. He found only one, belonging to a distant and pale painted pegasus (Cera,) whom he'd never before met.

So the haruspex wasn't alone, then. Others, too, felt fear.

So quickly trained was Ashamin, now, that he could not stop hearing the hearts of those around him. When Maren approached it was only her heart that he heard, her words faded into dull background noise. Standing beside Tiamat and Nox, the haruspex could only nod vaguely.

Lochan, hidden from the fight, emerged quietly with a look of terror. The bonded pair were reunited, the small cerndyr pressing his head to Ashamin's knee and lowing quietly, painfully. He called for a healer for his haruspex, flashing images of the ones he knew in Ashamin's mind in vain. There were others that needed tending to, even more than him.

Somewhere, Ashamin heard the heartbeat of one such soul. Getting slower, fading quietly into nothing amid a sea of piled corpses where no one would find her. He needed medical attention, it was clear in the way he hobbled and tripped on burnt hocks towards the sound of that fading heart. But he couldn't stop for himself, not while that heartbeat was still heard, not while there was still a chance...

He found her when he saw a shadow fall to its knees, and he reached her when she was already on the ground. Aviya, a stranger to him, soaked in blood and dying.

He called out into the crowd with desperation the only thing in his heart he could face recognizing, and looked around for someone who could cure this stopping heart. Fast and unforgivable blisters from burns formed about his hocks as every sob wracked his broken frame, but all he could hear was a stranger, dying, as if it were his own heart ceasing to beat.

"SOMEONE, GODS, HELP!"

ASHAMIN