The evening was calm by the fringe of the meadow, mild, with only the softest of breezes whispering through the leafy canopy above. As the leaves stirred, weak streamers of light fell upon the spider and her vast, glittery web. She sat motionless at its centre, sewing so intricately each feather entrusted to her, onto a beautifully plaited string there caught between her hairy toes. She hummed a pleasant and wordless song as she worked, though her voice was so small only passing insects heeded its sound – she didn’t mind. Ilham was weaving this night and waiting, not hunting.

Far to the south of their busy arachnid sister, a yearling filly and a pale kitsune not much younger, were making haste in the quite opposite direction, snug against the tree line for fear of unseen eyes set upon their journey.

For a solid year the golden bellied daughter of the Gallant and the Starry-Eyed had traipsed warily to and fro through the seemingly endless regions of her birth land – Helovia. So many of the gut wrenching, convoluted memories which had been so desperately and dutifully bandaged beneath other brighter times by a mother’s withering heart, were resurfacing in the form of gruesome, incessant nightmares; fractions of shattered glass so perilous to touch, slowly piecing together again a hideous jigsaw puzzle that the girl wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to finish. What had occurred to the troubled yearling though over the course of her wandering however, was that demons from a tumultuous, forgotten past were tracking her every step and across her back seemed to lay a perpetual blanket of sorrow, loneliness and uncertainty - all irrespective of the splendid company she kept. It was a difficult burden for one so young and green to bear.

Above, the bare face of the moon was awash with eerie, yellow warmth; hue so freakishly sun-like, yet none of the season’s softening heat fell down to caress her prickling, cool hide. Zahra’s quivering lips slipped slowly downward through the dry air towards flickering ears which perched like yellow-tipped triangles atop the furred skull of her younger, canine sibling. Affectionately, Bird’s cool wet nose turned to nuzzle among the filly’s sooty, wiry whiskers. A curious and intimidating sight spread outwards before them – though ironically, it was one they had passed by both in thought and tread regularly for many months. Silent, restless flames lit the horizon, crackling playfully above the parched heart of the land (the lake of fire, they had come to call it), and all eyes were set intently upon them, dazed, memorised, as though it were an entirely new discovery to behold. This was no place at all for their delicate Ilham.

Fire...

The winged girl nodded slowly, lifting her pale face again high. Milky eyes drank cautiously the billowing radiance, all too aware of the danger lurking amid the show of writhing shadow and dazzling light. All about them was a familiar heat, a comfortable cosiness that she was yet to find in any other stretch of the countryside (perhaps it touched both a physical and emotional string in her conscience). Together she and the little kitsune stepped twice towards it, the fire, creeping still closer than they had ever felt so incline to before. Zahra was drawn nearer again, compelled by a force still greater than her own instinctive wariness; and Hanna, through the mind of her sister could hardly resist that same urge. Each expected a villainous roar to welcome their approach, blazing ropes to bind them and drag them in to certain death - but only strange silence saw them forward through the tossing wind caused by this unsettlingly beautiful place. The fire seemed not even to swell in anticipation.

The long breath the young pegasus drew was chokingly hot, and quite devoid of the moisture her lungs so urgently craved; she coughed harshly, loudly, and the enchanted collar resting still awkwardly across her narrow shoulders shuddered. Her body held nothing yet of the strength of her father, the brawn and the valour that he might once have hoped would carry on through this newest bloodline. Perhaps in time the lankiness would fade beneath layers of muscle, but thus far her form was merely that of a wanderer. Regardless, the collar sat still as clumsily upon her small feminine frame, as it had when entrusted to her all those many seasons ago (a lifetime, she felt). The filly wriggled beneath its weight – that of memories and fears wrought throughout its shining surface - and sighed heavily as the still beautiful piece slumped softly from her neck to the reddened, dusty earth beneath.

Already tears were pooling beneath her milky, nervous eyes, and though the thick lashes fluttered in defence around them, fluid apprehension seemed always to return like liquid summoned from the molten rivers she right then stood somewhere above. The girl turned her lips slowly to fondle briefly the old, tatty leather satchel that was tied against her elbow – surely it would soon disintegrate entirely. Zahra’s teeth sank beneath the loose flap across its top, and she drew out the same spear that she imagined had once wounded the Gallant’s own enemies in battle. Both items were so precious, so dearly cherished. But with that attachment came the grim burden of anguish that she really couldn’t remember living without; the items (and a few feathers strewn across the silk thread around her neck), were all that she had left of him and the love he’d given – that which she still craved so dreadfully. They were the constant reminder of all that was now and forever lost, of the debilitating pain which had broken the hearts and minds of the souls who haunted her sleep.

She had neither ability nor confidence to guard anything so sacred.

“Da...” She whispered mournfully into the gentle wind of the night. She had done the same so often before.

“I miss you.

The visions, they are overwhelm...” the girl paused bluntly to swallow the stone growing in her throat. Those seeds once planted by the Starry-Eyed, both the painful and the pleasant, were unravelling the confusing, soured story of two lives combined. “This is for the best now... all I can do to keep us both safe.” The note of her voice wavered as the pitch drifted higher, but soon the sound of her distress fell beneath a wave of wracking sobs.

Delivering the old spear and the gleaming collar to the flaming lake might have called upon every skerrick of courage and strength possessed by the unlikely siblings. Hanna clutched the smaller of the items gently between pearly teeth prepared, determined only to do as the other’s heart felt was right. But alas, Zahra had not the nerve to so straightforwardly dispose of her father’s battle-worn property; of the memory that she was unsure she could truly live without. “No,” she whispered regretfully. There would have to be another, less callous way. Canine eyes shifted to view the face of the confused girl and a small whimper lifted through the fire lit night. The heat was unbearable, and should they have been foolish enough to skirt the lake’s edge in the end, perhaps they would have been incinerated together, along with both the collar and the spear. Retreating still further from the heart of the land (undoubtedly too, away from the guilt and heartache riddling the frayed filly), the duo traced back the path that they had again followed to find Helovia's heart, towards the old wood that kept their patient sister.

---

Note: I’ve edited the last paragraph only. It now portrays the thought of Zahra destroying her father’s armour, but she doesn’t follow through. The reason for this is I caught up with the news and updates for Helovia, and realise that custom items can’t be so simply destroyed. My mistake and I apologise <3

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

Nothing could seal away the terror you felt within. Nothing could save you from its wrath, foolish boy. Nothing was going to take you in and love you like you've always wanted. Dreams are futile in this cruel world. Gasping you try and run, try to escape from me and you are so naive to think that I won't find you. Keep running you disheveled pile of flesh. Work your bones until there is nothing left to move, because I will find you... and I will destroy you.

Please don't kill me! you cry and I can only laugh in glee at the terror in your minty green eyes, watching your starved form shake as you continue to run in these new lands you still haven't grown accustomed to. You are but skin and bone and I cannot help but relish that, as you are soon losing your breath, and are slowing down. Only when you sense me behind you do you continue in a frantic pace, and I am relentless in my hunt. I long to feast upon your stringy, malnourished flesh, to dig my fangs into that neck of yours and tear away that wretched rosary that is the only thing that keeps me from setting you aflame. You know it to, and so you clutch onto it for dear life with your muzzle as you keep running, ignoring your fumbling steps and your idiotic whimpers as you continue on in hopes of being freed from me. I have news for you little boy; you can never escape me, for I amyou. That thought sends another streak of terror through you, and as you nearly choke on each ragged breath you take in, until at last you think you've found a sanctuary. For there before you is a little girl, so sweet and innocent perhaps, thinking she could be your guardian angle hm? Don't fool yourself.

You close in, screaming like a madman which will surely cause her to flee, your creamy wings spread and your peacock tail splayed half mast in hopes of catching her attention. You better pray she doesn't acknowledge you boy, for she will be my next chew toy after you. As you're running you trip on a rock and fall, skinning your knee and skidding to a halt a few feet from her, ribs heaving beneath your dirty and unkempt coat, showing just how much fun I've had with you these past few months. Your eyes are rolling to show the whites and hiding away those precious minty orbs, and I can't help but cackle and circle you... ready to close right in. As you see me in your side vision, you turn to her in a panic, eyes so pleading towards her and that little fox-like creature of hers, and in a feeble attempt to save them you cry out, it hoarse due to the lack of what you've had,"R-Run..."

What you don't seem to understand boy, what still hasn't gotten through that thick cranium of yours, adorned with those pearls and dolled up with those pretty eyes, is that only you can see me, and no one else. Yet you try to plead your innocence and sanity, that you are not in the wrong, that there really is an enemy after you. Oh how much fun you make it for me when you try to accomplish such a task, for I am the only one that gains anything from it. Are you ready to given in boy? Can I finally feast upon you and your soul? Or will you continue to fruitlessly hope and pray that maybe one night when you're sleeping, I'll just go away. Ha! Remember when I said dreams are futile? Well they are. But what isn't... are nightmares, for that is what I will forever be to you. And oh will I enjoy every last second of it.

A bloodcurdling sound filled the world suddenly around the sprinting sisters. It came upon them like a hunting owl through the night, like ravaging wind or rain driven upon its driving breast; the scream seemed to split the air in every direction, shiver through their bodies and pierce their minds and it forced each to halt abruptly. Zahra propped across lean forelegs, wings ajar, haunches coiled like bound springs beneath her trembling weight; the collar lurched against taught shoulders at the suddenness of the movement and the pallid kitsune rumbled warily as she slithered the watch from between the filly’s front hooves. Suddenly the night seemed alive with the ring of torture, terror, and certainly the small draper felt rising justification for the fear she had for so long walked with. In those seconds she missed Camon desperately, achingly, and vainly hoped for his silhouette to break through the tension of the situation right then. Alas it was not to be this time, and not one bit did the emerging creature resemble the screech finally ebbing away.

Stunned for a moment, the yearling could only hope to stare, jaw unhinged – soak up the harried approach of the pastel white Pegasus stallion and wonder whether or not it was another of her relentless visions; or an angel perhaps, or the opposite. It was the growing growl of her sister that appealed to her better reasoning at last, the prickle of rising fur against her lower legs, and Zahra began to shuffle inelegantly in reverse. She paused suddenly however, as the strange spectacle seemed to unravel in a second of flailing wings and limbs; tail feathers far longer than she could ever have believed. The cacophony within her chest seemed to echo on still louder in her ears, deafeningly, paralysingly, but there was golden empathy too, coursing through those engorged, throbbing veins. He was wild, distraught, and undeniably out of control – this alone gave the siblings the upper hand should they need to take flight, but flashing through the stark white of his eyes seemed a softness of hue, a delicate green quality that brought him otherwise to life.

The stallion was quite real and as he turned square to engage the filly (voice seemingly deranged), she realised his predicament; though sense it made not. Equally unexpected was the arrival of a second stranger - another with wings and bold movement. The brown-patterned mare slid to the side of the yearling, and she too, it seemed, was drawn to the concept of danger nearby. Still the kitsune beneath snarled, frightened and fierce and sparking embers began to light the very tips of four tails. Zahra’s cream eyes danced hither and thither, searching desperately through the eerie night’s dimness for whatever was hounding the bright-coated other. They settled hesitantly on the scattered tree line, just beyond reach, and though Bird urged for the relative safety therein, the girl could not leave the stricken winged horse. It became apparent that the spotted pegasus felt the same way inclined.

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

You still have yet to break free of me yet Timmy. I am still here and very real, the only thing is that they cannot see me like you can... but... can you actually see me at all? Have you ever once seen me as a being, or is it all in that manic mind of yours? Such a shame that such a handsome fellow could have such an ugly and marred mind. Do you see the fear you instill in them? Those two girls trying to help you? Your delusions are causing them suffering that is unnecessary, and yet here you are causing them it anyway. You gasp and groan, kicking subconsciously at me as if I might be trying to nip at those battered ankles of yours. Yet all you kick up is dust and grass dear boy, most likely making even more of a fool of yourself. You think I am the enemy here, yet it seems you're making yourself the enemy now. What will you do when they turn against you? When they realize you are nothing but an idiotic coward.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP IT!" you scream, convulsing in utter terror as you curl into yourself, wings flapping spastically before shielding yourself with them, trying to hide yourself away from them and their judgmental stares. Suddenly they are not someone you want to help, they are trying to devour you too just like myself. You will never find peace with me here Timothy, for I am that everlasting dream that rewinds itself time and time again, replaying the worst parts just for you to enjoy. I love it when you beg, when you cry and break down into a pile of snot and tears. I will forever cherish the look of anguish upon your expression as you try to comprehend just what you ever did to me.

Do you want an answer? Are you absolutely sure you want one? I don't think you'll like it~! Well if you insist birdy boy, I will tell you. What you did was create me... conceptualize me and bring me into this world all because of that one thing you simply refuse to let go of... The one thing I hope and pray you will never release from that little locked box in your heart, because I do truly love the moments we share together. I love to make your head pound, to listen to your heartbeat increase with every syllable that leaves my lips, and I know that it will never...ever... stop. You gasp for air, sobbing into the darkest night before slamming your head back to the ground, kicking and crying and writhing as if you yourself were on fire. Your tail lashes and you continue to kick up dirt, your cries echoing out around you. What will these women think of your now? Crying like a lost colt who can't find mommy... where is mommy by the way? Did mommy... leave you?

"NO!" you shout, before skyrocketing up and forward, past the two and towards the lake before you, eyes now bloodshot and frantic. All you seem to go for is the lake, the flames licking into the sky in an attempt to kiss the sky, never quite seeming to reach it. Your gait is uneven and anything but graceful, yet you push on, just at the shoreline before your legs give yet away, and your skidding forward until your nose is but inches from the edge of the lake. The heat singes your ears and nostrils, and with each ragged breath you inhale smoke, causing you to cough and hack, before managing to maneuver yourself out of the clouds of grey. As you do so you look into the sky, depleted and no longer full of hope as you were. Tears stream down those singed cheeks and you pant, wondering just how the hell you're still alive. There is where you weep, long and sorrowful, no longer caring of the two companions behind you, or if your legs are numb or if you're eating yourself from the inside out due to malnourishment.

Seeing you like this would make a sane mind pity you, but me, I can't help but really laugh at it. To see you become so worked up and anxious, to drive yourself into such a panic that you are at the brink of death, is entirely hilarious! It only continues to prove just how worthless you really are. You're nothing, insignificant and a waste of creation. Why did the Gods ever decide to create you? To make you live? You should have died in your mother's rotting uterus all those years ago...