It was late. The setting sun was nearly obscured by heavy clouds and only a trickle of sooty, dirty orange light remained to be seen in the west. A storm was drawing in from the sea but though the wind was rough and rain whipped the ground in heavy curtains it wasn't nearly as bad as it would be in a while. Through the dusky haze Erthë could see the waves foam in the distance, agitated even before they made contact with the black rocks and smashed into pieces against razor sharp edges. She was drenched, from rain and sea-water alike, but though she would have to seek shelter soon something made her linger there on the barren peninsula, longer than was wise.

A smile played on her lips as she gazed in awed fascination at the raging display that took place all around her. It was freezing, biting cold even though the season in general had been mild. Winter would be upon them soon, the time of frosted breaths, snowstorms and hardships. But somehow she looked forward to it all the same. The cold didn't bother her at all, nor did she care that her feathers were displaced and soaked through and the curls hung heavy from the crest in one unruly mass. In much she was still a child of the wilderness, even though life in a herd had made her used to relying on others for help and company. Erthë welcomed dirt, scrapes and bruises, rejoiced in muscle pains and mud in the coat - they were mere byproducts of life, proof that she had indeed been there, seen it all and savored every moment.

Come Frostfall she would be a yearling. This notion made her shudder in secret delight, even as she snorted at the measuring of time could hold meaning. It both meant something and did not, rather in the way she loved growing bigger while lamenting that she no longer was free from responsibility. Indeed, she was still a child, but no longer as innocent, as gullible nor as helpless as she had been. Though not yet adult she would be counted upon to behave responsibly from now on, act in a manner befitting a youth of the World's Edge, the Seer's apprentice. The time of restless wandering and carefree adventures was drawing to a close, and as in so much else the filly felt torn. Happy and sad, proud and reluctant, excited... and intimidated, because there was still so much left to learn.

But... not quite yet. There was still time before the seasons changed. Time to brave the wilderness, challenge a storm and place flowers on a toppled shrine. When a gust of wind crashed into her and threatened to steal her breath away the girl let it push her back, turned and padded slowly back to the deserted temples. Like her own wet skin, the pallor of white petals seemed to nearly glow in the gathering darkness, flickering restless points of starlight sheltered by the roughly hewn rock. Again she tried to read the symbols that had been etched into it, but like before the meaning of them were lost on her, wrapped in darkness and stolen away just as she began to understand.

"I wish I could have seen what this place looked like when it was still whole" she murmured to the stone, her words stolen from her lips even as she uttered them. "Why did You abandon this place? There's so much I would like to know, so many things I would ask about. What's the purpose of the four herd lands, what does the drawings in the Heart Caves mean, what is magic and why do you give it to us? Who were the foreign gods, why did Helovia need more land, is it really all over now? I wish I were the Seer, so I could ask it all and maybe even get answers."

Frustration was in her veins, bubbling and seething, making her shift restlessly while rain pounded against her back. Cold, clear droplets that froze as it landed on her skin and turned her coat heavy with ice; in a mere afterthought the girl shook herself and sent stabbing shards flying. She had tried to freeze the precipitation earlier, but found that rather than the thick, lush snowfall she had imagined her back had been struck by heavy lumps of ice, hail the size of pebbles. It appeared the water was falling too quickly to freeze properly before it reached her, and it wasn't like she could actually do anything with the ice once she had made it. Not yet anyway; she was working on it, practicing every day... but it was like she had hit a wall, one that just wouldn't budge no matter how she tried to overcome it.

In comparison, the mysteries she pondered seemed almost easy to solve.

Snorting she shook the head a second time, to clear her thoughts this time, then she smiled again as she pondered the mute rock with a bemused expression.

"It's okay though" she said, unembarrassed with the fact that she appeared to be talking to a rock. "I'll be patient, and I'll try to figure it out by myself first. I'm sure there are people out there who have answers, and if I really don't understand I'll ask the next time I see You. I hope it'll be soon, Alune promised we would do the Seeing and it's been ages since we got back from the caves. I'll make sure he'll do it before the seasons turn, so don't worry!"

The storm was drawing closer. Erthë could barely hear herself over the howling wind now, and instinct told her it was time to get going. Backing a few steps from the dark-veiled shrine she cast a final glance over the flowers, the monument, made sure everything was neat and in order, then bowed gracefully until her nose nearly touched the ground.

"I'll come again some other day, my Lady. Thank you for the storm, it's magnificent!"

Grinning, she straightened up and turned to leave, a bit reluctant but even less eager to get swept off by the hurricane.

Erthë

and my knees are shaking - - and my dreams are breaking - - but i know i live today

Perhaps she shouldn't be surprised to find herself faced with the pale, elegant form of Ophelia as she turned, but the filly had to admit that she was none the less. So much had happened since the Amaranthine placed her offer to aid the limping foal, so many seasons had run by since they were side-tracked, separated and disturbed. While not exactly positive that the promise would be kept, Erthë had felt no reason to doubt that she would receive the needed aid sooner or later.

"Thank you, miss" she replied while inclining her neck in greeting, the initial surprise melting into a look of happy recognition as she turned once again, completing the silly little circle so that she would face the shrines properly.

Sooner was decidedly better than later, of course. For reasons unknown to her - though she had her theories, they were no more than just that - the broken, poorly set leg refused to heal properly even with the passage of time, and the pain was not something she could take lightly. A restless nature and rudimentary knowledge of certain plants had steered her onto a dangerous path, one she struggled with on a daily basis. If nothing else, Erthë hoped that the pain at least would disappear - it would be easier to cut the habit if she was able to suffer through a day without feeling the constant stabbing, gnawing ache pound through her leg.

As Ophelia addressed the shrines - and hopefully caught the attention of the Powers they represented - the winged filly too turned her thoughts to the Gods. While not personally inclined towards the flaming Sun Lord after the fiasco with the Crocodile god and her mother's subsequent death, she did not object against the older mare's choice of patron. Saying that she would prefer an audience with the Lady Moon would be outright rude, and implying that the Earth Father owed her anything for not mending the injury directly when it happened was pushing it, no matter how you looked at it. So Erthë bowed her head against the winds of the storm and tried to formulate some happy, or at least moderately positive thoughts towards the brightly shining God, pouring all her deeply felt sincerity towards a single goal.

"Please, at least reveal how the injury might be mended. I don't mind doing it myself if you are busy, I don't want to be a bother or take up your time so if You could just whisper or point me - us - in the right direction I will definitely like you a bit more, and if the leg is fixed I promise I will find something prettier than flowers for the next time I visit."  

And then she waited, nerves tingling with hope and dread and a feeling that things were moving out of her control. A stray thought went to Tembovu, who had accompanied them on the first, initial journey. It felt a bit wrong to not have him here now, as though they were acting behind his back... Erthë made a note to tell him all about this visit next time she got a chance.

If something happened that was worth talking about, that is. How long was it okay to wait for a reply? What if none came?

Would she end up spending the remainder of her life on this rock, awaiting the words of a god that may never show up?

Erthë

and my knees are shaking - - and my dreams are breaking - - but i know i live today

The voice came to her like a whisper on the raging wind, soft and faint yet still somehow reaching her without trying. Pale eyes widened as the storm around her warmed, the memory of summer winds and lazy days basking in golden sunlight bubbling up to the surface - happy thoughts barely recalled, forgotten emotions like a sweet ache in her chest. From the wind emerged a bird, dressed in flames and beautiful, more so than any she had ever laid eyes upon before, and Erthë realized that it was it who spoke, it from whence the gentle, soft voice sprung.

But for all its radiance, all its calm reassurance, the sight of the bird and the message it brought made something flicker and die within her. A hope perhaps, a lingering belief that everything would be alright. Ophelia's reappearance had kindled it again, but now Erthë was left with a feeling that the darkness would feel twice as deep for this sudden burst of light. She could no longer remember if she had ever believed that the gods would be interested in aiding one such as her, couldn't recall if she even carried the conceit of believing she deserved their attention. A bolder person might have protested that after heeding the summons to four different fields of battle, after spilling blood and tears for their sake they were obliged to do something for her in return.

But... that was not her way. Erthë knew that she had not been forced to do anything, that none of the gods owed her. Everything she had done so far, every step she had taken and every threat and danger she faced had been met out of free will. Her own free will. Happenstance and coincidence might have played a part in it, misfortune may have tailed her on every path, but though she regretted much of what had happened and missed those she had lost, she was not sorry. Disappointed, yes, frustrated and dejected, but not angry. Who was she to blame this god for whom she felt so little, who was she to demand anything from the driving forces of this world?

She closed her eyes as the phoenix turned back to wind and savored the warmth of its soft touch against her skin, not hot or uncomfortable but soothing as a mothers embrace. Smiling, Erthë could feel how all the aches and sores, all the pain and discomfort that clouded her senses fell away, swept off into the raging storm.

It wouldn't last, of that she was certain. It was a gesture of apology, perhaps even sympathy, but while it was not much it was enough to be grateful for.

When the warm light died away from her eyelids, the filly sighed quietly and opened them again. The sun had set and darkness was draping around them as the storm once again swept in to wreak havoc on the barren rocks. Only the blue glow from bubbling magma in pools and streams around them remained, a welcome aid to guide them back onto the mainland.

"Thank you" she said, a quiet murmur into the night. She glanced up at Ophelia, regret coloring the smile that curved her lips as she reached out to touch a small nose to the mare's shoulder. "For trying, thank you."

Hesitating slightly, she wondered if she ought to say something else... but no words came to her that felt sufficient enough to convey her conflicted emotions. Tucking pale wings firmly in place against her shoulders Erthë turned and began to pick her way back across the lava fields. Her stride was easy and suddenly graceful, rid of the heavy limp that usually had her wobbling about. Neither legs gave her pause, and for that, she decided, she would have to find the Sun an even better flower the next time she visited.

Erthë

and my knees are shaking - - and my dreams are breaking - - but i know i live today