My eyes have been opened, numerous times, since my arrival in this realm. Helovia, are you out to change the fundamental properties that make who I am? I arrived here, tired and fleeing a past which has confused me, and I am thrown into a world of males, Pegasus and equine, and all things else that might exist under this unbearable Sun. The Edge is wilting, and it is with little surprise that I find it to be a rather empty land. I take my leave of the place, having done my shift of watching the borders. Dirk, my forever-companion, clings to my withers, his little paws gently waving at the flowers that reside amongst my tendrils. There are fewer flowers there this season, the oppressive sunlight having drained a lot of my energy, and evidently a lot of my magic too. But still they permeate their scent, however dimmed, and still I find myself welcomed by most things male. It is something to which I have always been accustomed to, however now I find myself wondering whether they like me simply for my magic, or simply for me. At my old home, such things would never have mattered to me. But here, where I mustn’t pay homage to my Earthly God through sacrificing a mate, I find strange little insecurities about my own self emerging.

Dirk purrs as he dozes atop my withers, and I take us to a cooler part of the lands, seeking out anything to relieve me of this heat. With some curiosity I observe the scent trail of another Edge member, and wouldn’t you know it – another stallion. But I have not met this one directly yet, perhaps only in passing. There is something metallic about his smell, and I follow his trail towards the Arch, enjoying the change in climate, wondering at the land’s ability to maintain ice even amidst such a season. I hear a voice, his voice, ahead of me, but I cannot make out the exact words he speaks. “Hello.” I murmur to the dark brute before me, gentle tones calling ahead as my slender legs approach closer. Nodding my tiara to him, my hazel eyes drink his form greedily. I will admit that he is a fine specimen of the male gender, strong and sturdy in build, certainly one that I would have considered preying upon with my womanly ways in my previous home. As it was, I gave him a small smile, addressing him from one herdmate to another. “I am Lotus, of the Edge. This is Dirk.” Arching my nape I reveal the kitten who hides amongst the strands of mane that linger over my shoulder.

The bronzed gaze of the stallion tracks my movement, I can feel him absorb my figurine, but he was a stoic one, only when a strange sound started clicking away deeper in the cave did his façade crack to shape his handsome lips into a smile. I take the opportunity of silence to run my own eyes over him, adapting to the darkness in the few seconds. I notice the tribal markings that run up his foreleg and shoulder, and openly I admire them, just as I see him peer at my own. I wear the marks of the Earth God with pride, despite the flag of my realm being that of the Moon – it wasn’t that I believed in her less, or wasn’t also grateful to her, it was simply that as a child I was raised to worship the Earthly one, and such things linger with you through the ages. I was young, compared to this steed, I could tell, though I did not waver beneath his glare. I let him observe me, and watched him in return. He was a fine specimen, his rich masculine scent very different to the flowery composition of my own. That metallic twinge still lingered in the atmosphere, and the strange noises from before seemed to shuffle and grow some more.

It was dirk who spotted the metal contraption, he sent me a mental image of what he saw with questioning undercurrents through our bond. It was a fascinating concept, this bond – being able to feel and experience what another feels, even a child’s mind such as Dirk’s was captivating. I turn my gaze to view this, squinting to focus in the dark, the rough outline of a cat – though not a cat like my Dirk – becoming evident. The stallion’s own scent was brassy and earthy, like the metal contraption before me, and slowly I wondered if it was he who had constructed the creation. Delight and interest was shown for a moment as I considered it, for it was Earthly magic if ever I saw, even if it was Earthern magic mixed with another, like my own, there was still that aspect of similarity. Before I can speak of my delight however, he seems to come to a conclusion about me, and at last my petite flutes capture his name within their grasp. His speech reminds me of Mauja’s way of thinking, the supremacist view that Unicorns were better than their hornless counterparts. Despite the time I had spent here, even with a few hornless creatures wandering the Edge, I was yet to come across one, and so I had for the most part, reserved my judgement of them.

But then, so many saw those who lacked horns as evil, perhaps there was credence to their opinions? I mulled the thought over a moment, deciding that while I will hold my judgement for now, I certainly did not have high expectations of the unhorned ones. He leans over me now, and I sense Dirk’s tension building, the hair upon his back rising, his tail growing fluffier, in a cat’s reaction making himself seem larger. His little lips raise and while some tendrils of my mane drift over him, flashes of ivory teeth are shown. Though he could cause little damage to anything right now, he would grow, and so too would his damage capabilities. A small hiss sounds out, a mere nervous warning, and I do my best to soothe him through our bond. He means no harm, little one. I think gently, having learned that the kitten can hear and respond to my thoughts. I radiate calming tones through the bond, and feel him relax, slightly, though his fur still stood on edge. Politely my voice ventures forth from my lips, and I explain my companion to him, though the knowledge is still quite new to me.

“He serves to keep me company, and though he is young and small, he will grow older and stronger soon enough. He is my companion, we are bonded by mind and soul.” I answer his query of Dirk first, wondering if he would be able to comprehend such a thing. I struggled to at first, and still do wonder at the possibility of it all, but I would not change what had happened for the world. “I can’t say I am a fan of the recent changes; though I’ve had no trouble from a hornless creature yet.” Commenting absently on his remark about the other species, I dully lean towards agreeing with him. “Surely our King would have made the decision for a reason?” Perhaps he was drawing his enemies closer to him, to make it all the more easier to crush them? I sighed, my questioning eyes roaming to the figure of the mechanical feline once more. “Are you the father of such a creation?” I indicate with the inclination of my tiara towards the creature, my curiosity unable to be held within.

The sounds the creature made seemed to be akin to sounds of a biological creature’s life failing. I watched it struggle its way towards us, curious as to its mechanics, but at the same time not bothered if I never found out. Dirk leaned over my shoulder to peer down at it, wonder in his mismatched little eyes, and a small mew echoed from his maw. It was interesting to see this Ulrik stare at his creation so dryly, as if he couldn’t really care whether it worked or not – surely it would work longer if he cared for it, maintained it, even in this heat? But it was not my place to instruct him on how to take care of his toys – for it appeared, that’s all they were. A sly grin crossed my lips and I made to respond to his words on the machine with an echo of his first query to myself.

“What purpose does it serve?” He had mentioned that it had served its intended purpose, but what exactly was that? If he replied in any kind of similar fashion as I had remarked upon my bond with Dirk I would be surprised at his need to inquire after Dirk. Keen flutes awaited his response, but then his gaze became slightly sharp, and he shot me a question with regards to the God whom I have served all my life. I was surprised, almost worried that he had somehow discovered my past, discovered the Amazonian herd I had been raised in, that he might know of my training in finding a suitable mate in order to use him for his goods and then sacrifice his blood to the Earth God… but there was no way for this stallion to know all of that, for none who ventured to my homeland ever left.

“The Earth God has been a guiding figure all my life, while I respect and acknowledge the others that exist, he has marked me as his own, and I will always be his faithful servant.” There was no point in hiding my love for the Earthern arts, and I lowered my tiara a little, though still gazed at his rich tan eyes. They weren’t dissimilar to my own eyes, though the brown in his was more prominent whereas it was the green in mine that was more obvious. I was cautious not out of fear of punishment for my beliefs, but because I knew that our herd was devout to the Moon Goddess, and I was saddened that the Earthly arts might be forgotten. I shook my nape lightly, the scent of the flowers permeating and gathering strongly in the confined space; I wondered if the effects of the pheromones would soften the stallion’s reaction to my words – if they had already had an effect. It was strange to spend extended periods with the male gender, and never know whether they spoke what was truth or what their manly bits told them to speak – a truth experienced by more than just me, I suppose, but certainly more often questioned by one with magic such as I.

It was only after some consideration that I had realised that he had asked his query in such a way that suggested he too was a follower of the Earth. But I was slightly sceptical, and worried, wondering if he was trying to lure me into a trap by setting up a false sense of security within my heart. Surely he wouldn’t do that to me, one of my own herd, and one who possesses blessed abilities of the Earth? Shifting my weight, I was unable to hide my unease for the expected response I might receive.

He was a surprising stallion, this Ulrik. I could see the honesty rolling from his tongue, he spoke without care nor affection for the creation which had been crafted by his very magic, and I couldn’t help but be a little surprised by it. It made me curious as to if he was capable of any sentient emotions at all, if he could even grow to love another, to cherish and want to hold them near all the time? Or did he treat everyone about him as he treated these machines, as nothing but tools in a greater scheme? I could tell easily that his opinion of those without horns was low, he wouldn’t hesitate in disposing of them like he would this ‘scrap metal’ of a machine. But I was curious to know whether he thought of his own species in the same regard, even if just to a lesser extent.

However the conversation shifted and I was uneasily awaiting judgement to fall from his lips on my choice of Gods to follow. It was a strange reaction for me, to consider the opinion of a male so important, and yet here I was, clinging to his every word, seeking approval I didn’t know I needed. He spoke, and his words were not scornful or hating, but accepting and factual. Though he did not embrace my beliefs, he did not judge me harshly for having them, rather, he commended me for them. I raised a brow, marvelling at the cool, collected manner in which this steed was able to conduct himself. It was then that I decided I liked him, everything from his critical stare, his handsome stature and the dry honesty that spouted from his maw. Yes, he would have certainly made a fine choice had he arrived at my former homeland.

The step that brought our forms closer was not lost on me, and my own cloven hooves shuffled my lithe form closer still; I did not fear him, despite the largeness and strength of him, I held a (possibly false) sense that he would not harm me. Perhaps I was relying upon the effects of my magic too much, but he did not seem to be one who would fight without good cause. My opinion against the hornless ones shifted a few more steps towards agreeing with his thoughts more completely, despite having never crossed the path of a winged or hornless equine, I decided that I never wanted to, and that our home should be eradicated of them. Unwittingly, I was putting more trust into this engineer than I ever could muster for our King.

He asked, or rather, made obvious the fact that I was hiding something. Something dark, bloodthirsty and related directly to the matters of the Gods of which we were speaking. But my past was behind me now, now I looked upon this stallion like I might a leader, I trusted him to steer me in the correct direction. I spoke, my voice earnest and open, unwilling to hide from him anymore. “The Earth God that my herd followed yearned for sacrifice – Gods cannot bleed, I am sure you know, Ulrik. It was by our design that we satisfied his need for blood.” While I didn’t go into details – they were irrelevant now, anyway – there was a sparkling behind my eyes, as within my perfectly sculptured tiara a path unfolded before me, and I could not wait to walk it.

“The Earth God will have his sacrifice, and it will be the blood of the hornless that I deliver.” I may not have looked like a warrior. But I had other powers, powers that this stallion was experiencing, whether he knew it or not. A passion had just caught alight within me, a tenacity that would be impossible to extinguish. My voice had delivered the words in a hushed way, wanting only his ears to capture them, wanting to know his judgement and opinion – unknowingly, I yearned for his approval and attention. Upon my back, Dirk let loose a small mew, the poor child was confused by the torrent of emotions rolling through me, the hair upon his back was half-way between standing and laying flat – he too would be a part of this.

They would fall. And we would rise.

His presence was intoxicating, his words even more so, and I could not help but want to feel him nearer. Perhaps I was as drunk on his masculine stench as he was on my magic, maybe my magic did not exist at all, maybe it was simply the allure of kindred souls. I had to remind myself that he was a stallion, and that had I allowed myself to get swept away by my hormones in my former abode, this steed would be the one who would be slain after our passionate time together. Then I would birth his foal, and draw in the next stallion worthy of continuing my bloodlines. But I was not there, I was here, in Helovia, and now my heart was set upon staining the earth with the blood of those whom did not hold proud horns upon their crowns. It was a decision that pleased my bloodthirsty heart – for I truly did possess a bloodthirsty heart, now that I had a target to set it upon.

The abrupt destruction of the metal feline surprised me, and suddenly I became aware of how close our bodies had become, of the warmth that had been generated by our shared breaths and the proximity of our bodies. He commented about needing more of the substance that the cat was made of, and I became saddened for a moment – it was only my magic then, that had softened his opinion of me, only my magic which held his attention. But oh, how I enjoyed it. He touched me then, his muscular hip brushing my own, he invited me with him – I had to wonder, was my magic addictive to him? Maybe that was why the tradition of slaying our lovers came about, maybe the magic that some of possessed was a danger not only to those being drawn in, but those wielding the attracting substance. I was curious, but only for a moment, son enough I was distracted by his invitation.

Lithe bodice turned with ease upon one heel, I pressed myself against his masculine frame, my nostrils greedily drinking the mechanical scent of him, I was drawn to the earthly aspects of him, that I would gladly admit. There was a maternal yearning within me, and I longed to be back home, and for him to be the one walking into our Amazonian abode, for him to fall for my spell. But then, I longed for nothing more – I did not wish to kill him, nor any stallion, at least that of the horned variety, not any more. Dirk rumbled a little bit at the closeness to the great brute who looked at him so belittlingly, I sent him waves of my own satiated emotions to soothe him, and soon he was purring again, soon I discovered he too found a calmness from this Ulrik.

“I would be glad to help you build,” I spoke sweetly, my sultry voice far more suggestive and husky than I originally intended. The time was approaching when I would be ripe, and I wanted to know if he would be present – like some pathetic mare I was now clutching to the affections of a stallion I barely knew – at the same time, I did not care, I wanted him. And so wherever he wandered, I would follow, blindly, without question.