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

Perhaps, were she more aware of her surroundings, the blue mare would have noticed her little companion much earlier; but so absorbed is she in a combination of her own thoughts and nature’s beauty, that it is only when the stone’s clattering echo reverberates off the walls, that her attention is roused from her wistful musings. “Hello? Is someone there?” Tiamat raises her head, dainty ears perking forward as her white eyes roam through the blushing light of the plants. Despite the shadows of fear and worry plaguing her mind lately, haunting the light of her heart, she does not think of the threats that might lie behind the stone’s disturbance—what creatures might be stalking one as innocent as herself.

Beneath the cool glow, so reminiscent of the twinkling light of her sister stars, the young mare’s eyes are beaming with curiosity—excitement, even, for what stranger might befriend her today. There is no consideration that it might be any different in Tiamat’s mind, that whatever individual has followed her would be anything but friendly, so pure and just is her faith in this world’s goodness. She has been untarnished by its black lies and hate, rightly refusing to release her grip on hope and allow her light to be diminished.

It would seem that the heavens have sought to spare her once more in her innocence. Recognizing the outline of a winged equine, haloed by the foliage’s sapphire glow, her eyes grow even brighter and the smile broadens across her lips. The pale stranger is unfamiliar, her figure still lanky and legs gangly with youth, surely with a spirit as unscathed as her own (she could never imagine the horrors and hate that can haunt one so young). “Well hello, little one,” Tiamat shifts her body so that she is angled towards the young girl, the length of her lion tail swaying in her delight, “Have you been following me all this way?” She laughs easily, unbothered by the thought, the sound not unlike the cool, bubbling trickle of the stream.

“They call this the Glowing Room,” the ocean mare’s voice leaves her in wonder, her tone reverent as she appreciates what surrounds them, “it is beautiful, isn’t it? One of nature’s hidden treasures.” Her attention wanders as she speaks, trailing to the lush trees and flowering undergrowth, their vibrancy untainted and untested against the harshness of the world above. Surely there is no amount of words that could accurately describe the feeling of this place; a haven, a preservation of all that is beautiful and good.

With her white eyes settling again on the winged filly, Tiamat reaches forward, extending a silken muzzle in a gesture of friendship and kindness—of acceptance, an invitation to join her at the water’s banks (because why would she not welcome this young stranger into her company?). However, as her gaze falls, the ocean mare notices the scratch on her leg, the scored flesh dark in comparison to her pale skin. “Oh—let me help you with that, I can patch it up if you would like. Does it hurt?” She takes a step closer, the weight of her body leaning forward as she catches and retrains restrains herself from rushing into the filly’s personal space, respecting the filly’s permission. “My name is Tiamat by the way, I’m a healer,” her smile is one of encouragement, nothing but genuine concern and glowing kindness.


“Speech.”