The nights had grown dreadfully long with the coming of winter. There was no crevice in which she could hide to evade the violent chill of the changing seasons and no refuge in which she could find that would allow her the comforts she sought. Essetia and Romul had known that the desert would prove bothersome throughout the year and yet vowed to remain tethered to the sands for the rest of their days. It was newfound loyalty that drove the young mare to bound herself so willing to the treacherous confines of the Throat, but also a love for those she’d come to know since.

When the sun finally peered at her from the straight line of the horizon, the mare and her wolf stirred from their restless slumber. They were growing accustomed to the cold nights and were even more practiced when it came to crafting crude, scarcely acceptable, lodgings to shield them from the winds. However, it was not because of a lack of knowledge for the art, but rather their numerous disagreements as to how those makeshift hovels were erected. Essetia preferred the idea of a sizable shanty, one large enough to house the big mare and then some, while Romul preferred a small, den-like structure in hopes of further preserving what little warmth the two shared. Needless to say, the mare refused to agree to her companion’s terms and often paid dearly for the sacrifice…

Though still groggy from the night before, Essetia was easily raised with the shining of morning’s first light. She stretched and groaned, fighting the desire to trail mindlessly through the pastel dunes of her home in search of task. She’d grown bored and lazy, stirring uselessly about from north to south, east to west… to no avail. Yet, daily, Romul gave the mare reason to think and to strive even when she felt as though there was nothing to bend her eager will. On some days she sought prey for the wolf and on others she merely studied his technique. It seemed, to her, that understanding the hunt was significant for her trade and Essetia needed all the teaching she could get if she wished to return to her former graces.

However, on such a day that Romul was not in search of meal or drink, they both roamed aimlessly along the vast borders of the sand. So it was not unusual when they journeyed toward the bridge hoping to set eyes on something or someone unfamiliar to their dry tongues.

Like big cats they stalked the wide rift between the Dragon’s Throat and the lands beyond, only stopping to deliberate once, whereupon their step grew excited and sure. The wind carried familiar notes of friendship, a scent that was too well known to them and also welcomed to heart.

When at last the pair came to face the opposite shore, they called out to Elsa as she waited for greeting from afar. The key that Ampere had given them came into good use once more as both Romul and Essetia were spirited from one shore to the next, their eyes still wide from the feel of magic and the extension of limbs that were not theirs. “All hail the Queen!” Essetia jested when her hooves were again beneath her. Auriel had been the one to inform the spy of Elsa’s promotion and no such news had ever been so well received. She smiled wide at the white Pegasus, thinking that she looked entirely different now and yet somehow the same. “What do they call you now, oh royal one?”

Essetia recalled their last meeting and knew that Elsa had left with a heavy heart, but the spy wanted nothing more than for bridges to be restored between them. The grief they’d both entertained for far too long needed remedy… it was time to forget the past. Without thought, Essetia moved forth with her lips extended toward the Queen’s shoulder. She wished to allow her a comfort of sorts, a reminder of their friendship. “Hello dear friend,” she whispered as she neared. “I’m so glad to see you well.”

There was distance between them, or a wedge that found itself pressed against their friendship likes nails to wood. There was a darkness in the way the Icebound greeted both Essetia and her wolf, but the chilling sensation was too fleeting for the spy to accurately put a name to. Whatever troubled the young Queen was something that Essetia would see to light at one point or another, but she offered nothing but understanding and solidarity until then. For a moment, Elsa’s touch was balm enough to soothe the uneasy feeling of confusion that surfaced upon their reunion. Yet, things still felt tense and uncertain… though not for any reason that Essetia herself could appoint, but rather something deep seated in her friend and former General. “It sounds regal to me, but not without confidence behind its telling… What troubles you?” Her words were but a whisper, a soft tune intended to cradle her friend in the calming notes. But they were not as binding as Essetia had hoped, but more so the unravelling of troubles yet to be named.

However, the apology that graced her lips and the trembling of her admission made Essetia recoil almost violently. As if the Queen knew the spy’s own heart, she voiced her concerns about the invasion, a well of emotion spilling from the depths of the past and into unknown territory that only produced pain and heartache. Again, and not for the first time, Essetia remembered her time in the North and the unpleasant feel of snow beneath her hooves. She remembered her desperate attempt to free herself from the icy snares of her captors, their faces passing absently from mind until finally landing on one in particular. She recalled the thistle meadow and how strange she felt to be hobbled by the clever contraption crafted by a handsome engineer and how angry, volatile, and outspoken she’d been. Those were days she’d almost begun to overlook, to forget, but here they were being dredged up from the recesses of her mind, the dark corners of her thoughts.

Yet, not one of those memories contained a vision of beauty or of hatred for the Icebound and her new placement in the Edge. After all, who better to rule the land by the sea than that of her sister, her friend, her leader, and guardian? The softness in her eyes had swelled and the sadness that laced her tongue made Essetia feel weak, as if she had somehow betrayed Elsa with her loose language and wild opinions. That had not been her intent way back when and was certainly not her intent now… She had come to peace with news of the Edge, had recognized the new leadership, and wished only the best for the land of her birthright. It was time that Elsa knew of such well-wishes and it was time that she to sought peace for herself and her home. “You have done nothing to offend or disgrace the memory of the Falls. You have achieved more than I could have thought possible and your ruling of the Edge has only served to mend frayed bonds. Do not fret my sister… I will always be at your side, whether it be in flesh or in heart.”

However, her words were of no real comfort to the Icebound and Essetia found herself spiraling downward into the self-made destruction that the invasion had left behind. That pain and agony, that weight that she had thought to bear, it was a crushing entity that would not let sleeping dogs lie. But the spy had thought herself recovered until Elsa had come back, worry and doubt pressing a sword against both their hearts and asking which of them should fall… But she had risen in the past, while Elsa had merely stumbled, her integrity robbed, her physical state broken, and her own confidence stricken into the burning grounds of a home that was no longer hers. Perhaps it was time for relief… time for Essetia to burden the weight of them both. “We were but pieces Elsa… easily overcome. There is no blame suited enough to fit any of those residing in the Falls during the invasion. Don’t you understand that? It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault… it just was. Lingering in the past won’t make the present any less daunting, but it will certainly keep you from moving forward. It’s time to forget, time to start living again. Don’t you want to live? Because as I see it, you’re slowly dying… let it go Elsa, it’s not your burden to carry.” The words left her tongue in violent disarray, but in such a way that her sternness could not be mistaken. Thoughts of the invasion had plagued them all for too long, had torn away parts of them that would take time to heal. Yet, that’s what Elsa was trying to do—or so it seemed. “What things would the Earth God have of you to restore your vision? Name it and see it done my friend, anything at all.”

To see her so broken, so ill of ease, felt binding and heavy. How long had she bore such weight until the crushing of it forced her to bend? Essetia felt guilty for having put her in such a position, felt angry at herself for not seeing it sooner, and mostly she felt sad for not finding her in her time of need. The tears threatened, but did not fall. Not yet.

The emotions seemed to roil within her like a thick, brewing storm- one that threatened to overtake them both. Essetia felt utterly lost to the memories that obviously plagued the Icebound for she had been forever stricken from the past by hands and choices that were not her own. She had fought a battle entirely separate from the one waged in the Hidden Falls, but it didn’t seem to appease her desire for retribution for what had been done. Time had healed the wounds and tended the pain, but it hadn’t yet tamed the scars that were etched into her heart. At first Essetia had been adamant about finding someone to blame or something to carry the weight of her burdens, but without a face to match the agony, she became nothing more than an empty shell- her emotions fleeing with the memories themselves.

Yet, here they were reemerged. At first, she feared the power and the ache of bringing to light her woes, but they were but dim shadows of what they once were… Did that mean they didn’t matter any longer? Essetia tried for the first time to become enraged by the past and to let the fires burn hot against her breast where they once lingered ablaze. Yet, she couldn’t manage to stoke the embers and even the breath of remembrance couldn’t bring to life the invasion- she was finally in the process of letting go. It felt like a cool stream instead of a violent storm, not unlike the one that plagued Elsa now… But the spy could no longer fight this battle for her sister in arms. It was a war that had struck inward, a war that would ravage the Icebound until nothing remained inside but a single, dying flame. It too would perish one day when the soothing balm of the future scabbed over those festering wounds. Soon too, the thunder would cease and the lightening would finally strike… the storm would ultimately end when it had taken the last of her.

But, it was a healing storm. It would bring Elsa to her knees before finally allowing her to rise once more above the flames and the hatred and the guilt. If only Essetia could assure her of such facts, but it was a matter that only Elsa could tend to… a rift that only she could close.

However, the flooding and rushing of emotion came as a sudden shock to the spy. Even Romul appeared uneasy when the Icebound at last let her truths fly.

Oxy, she had said, or more accurately blamed, had been the cause of her pain. Essetia had known of the Legatus and had expected great things of him, but had heard through the grapevine that he had granted the intruders entrance- had given them the map toward the waterfall that concealed their home. He should have taken the blame that Elsa now carried because of his actions and Essetia longed for nothing more than to condemn him to the netherworld for leaving her friend to burden it. However, the spy couldn’t find it within herself to say such thoughts aloud, fearing more than anything that the fires would return to consume her entirely. Instead she focused her attention on the heated demands of a Queen that was not hers. Never before had Elsa been domineering, at least not toward Essetia. It was a blend of thoughtful emotion that not only surprised the spy, but set her blood to boil. In her selfishness, she longed to correct her and remind her that her allegiance was to the Throat alone, but also feared what would happen to the ties between her new home and the Edge should she step across obvious lines.

Elsa was certainly aware of the spy’s hot-headed nature and surely she would understand the bay’s need to set her boundaries straight, but she nodded curtly instead. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Yet the flickering image of dominance quickly faded and Essetia was forced to reign in her growing suspicion. “She need time…” Romul urged from her shoulder. Though the wolf was right, Essetia imagined that becoming Queen had done quite the number on the Icebound… the pressures were great when internal conflict was abounding. “It’s alright…” she sighed. “You’ve done all you can… now please, let me do you a kindness. For the World’s Edge, for the Hidden Falls, for everyone scarred by the memories of losing both their home and their stability, let me grant you the one thing you’ve been seeking from far too many. Forgive yourself Elsa. Forgive yourself for doing only what you could.”

Even as she spoke, Essetia imagined that fateful day when Midas fell and how callous those who had witnessed his death had been. She remembered her own confusion and her own loss in such a way that made such a dream feel lucid. But, there was more, because it was finally time for her to let go too. It was time to forgive herself for not being able to do what she’d promised in vain. She couldn’t protect the Hidden Falls – she was but one horse – and she shed a few tears for herself on that day, because for the first time since, she was not the one to blame.