like the ocean kissed the sky,
at the most beautiful place under the sun

After the battle at Green Labyrinth, the ocean mare had not wandered far from the Eastern territories. Once assured that Nox had been safe and well enough to recuperate from his wounds, and having thanked Ashamin generously for his bravery—even though she is sure she will never be able to repay him for saving her life—she had taken to wandering on her own for a short while. Violence is a harsh and terrible thing, unnecessary in its hatred and hazardous in its retribution. Having seen it quite literally tear people apart, twice now in each battle, Tiamat is struggling to keep her spirits up in spite of it all.
 
Surely there must be another way?
 
Caught up in the contemplations and struggles that wrangle within her chest, it takes a moment for the young mare to realize that she has stumbled into another place—another realm, perhaps. The beach is nothing short of ethereal in its beauty, glassy and clear; even the powerful push and pull of her father’s mighty waves have been calmed, stilled to a glossy sway. It feels so serene, so perfect. “What is this place,” she sighs breathlessly, Could this be heaven? All at once she feels as though she’s been lifted, ascended, to that place—with her parents, where nothing can go wrong.
 
However, the peace that begins to finally calm her frayed nerves is stretched and bent when figures emerge on the horizon—in the light, a gathering. Like the others. A flock, lambs, congregating with one another to be prodded and slaughtered, beaten and broken. Like the others. And they all do it so willingly.
 
Must it be so?
 
She almost turns away—almost snatches for herself a moment of selfishness, to run, to hide, to flee. But she cannot, not when she knows she might be needed, she could never abandon them. Pulling herself together and trying to harness the fear that buzzes inside of her, Tiamat wanders forward. She hesitates at the fringes of the gathering, white eyes wandering over the faces (some familiar, some friends) and her heart cries out for all of them. Taking a shuddering breath, she wanders deeper into their midst, steps slow until she catches sight of Ashamin. Her pace quickening to meet him, she settles at his side, pressing her lips to his shoulder (as though his company could calm her) and giving him a smile.
 
Tiamat doesn’t say anything, her throat too tight for words, her lion tail hovering over the pristine water as her eyes wander upwards—to the God. He is beautiful and majestic, so collected compared to the others, and as the moments pass by, Tiamat dares to let her hope rise. Perhaps this time it will be different. So calm, so peaceful, so composed—the mare bows to him, a silent prayer on her lips, a plea that violence will not have its way here.


notes; Wanders into the Flats to see the gathering. Noticing Ashamin she goes to stand by him, looks to the Sun God and bows, praying silently for peace.
“Speech.”