Lived unbruised,
we are friends; and I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Sigh no more.

This time, he wasn't alone.

Ashamin thought back, now, to the other times he had been to the Deep Forest. With Tiamat, with Atlas... there had been another time too, hadn't there been? There always were. But it wasn't his being in the forest with company that was unique, it was his being anywhere with company that was new. For days he had isolated himself in the wake of the horrors of his acts, trying to suss out his conflicting emotions. For the Mountain he felt a mixture of hatred and pity, something maybe like betrayal that he knew he didn't have a right to feel. After all, he hardly knew her. Could he really feel betrayed by someone whose name he didn't know?

Then again, she had used him. That much was clear. She must have known, when she tried to egg him on, exactly what she was doing. And so he felt it anyway, that emotion he didn't deserve: betrayal.

And then what of Hotaru? The mare that was his sunrise felt distant now in the wake of the death of a child. How would she see Ashamin now? Would he really be so beautiful in her eyes? Someone she could love?

The Ki'irha, his night sky. There was no way she could belong to him--she, the one who had offered her love first. He had turned her away out of what, fear? He couldn't be scared of love now, not when he craved it so severely. Without it, the clovenheart was sure he would die.

So when he left the Basin, naked save for his necklace and sarong and moving slowly towards the Dragon's Throat in hopes that their diviner and God could advise him in some way that no one else clouded by the northern and decidedly electric perspective could, he conceded and allowed his companions to follow. Rakt played off the reunion at first as nothing but an inconvenience (given that it woke him from a deep slumber in the day,) but revealed his hand by sticking close to Ashamin. Every other step the haruspex found himself almost tripping and looking down, curling his tail around to herd the young cerndyr forward and out from between his legs.

Lochan, though, walked ahead. Ashamin didn't ignore the odd silence in their bond, the absence of paintings passed into his mind. At last the little eye was showing a healthy fear for his bondmate's past crimes.

Ashamin just wanted to get away from it all. Even his magic felt like a burden, particularly the new one that he had eventually discovered after enough thin scrapes crackling themselves closed. The ability for his body to heal itself, even without a command? And manifested, too, at the most wicked moment of his life? What sort of sign was that, God of the Spark?

No, Ashamin didn't want to see a single vein of electricity for a few days, at least. But unfortunately, luck was not on the haruspex's side.

He recognized the sound even before he broke through the trees. Lochan stood still when Ashamin arrived before the two small creatures and their prize, very noticeably not warning Ashamin about the glowing orb beforehand. Absently he snorted in Lochan's direction, but the little eye looked blankly forward as if he hadn't noticed Ashamin at all.

The discomfort inhabiting the two white stoats was impossible to ignore, and as he watched them he knew that he'd have to give up on not using his magic for awhile. He was more interested in them than he was in the clearly magic thing floating between them. Whatever the orb was it just reminded him of Hotaru's magic and all the pain that came with that memory. It reminded him of his own powers, and the life he'd ended and learned of with their aid.

No, it was better to focus on the living than that.

"Are you alright?" Ashamin offered quietly, lowering his head down and trying to catch their gazes, flipping back and forth between the two. Tentatively he tried to reach out with his magic, hoping to soothe their heartbeats and perhaps sway them to feel less fear.

Their question was sharp, sudden, and caused his ear to flicker back in faint surprise. Was it that he hadn't expected them to talk? Then again, he had just spoken to them.

But how could he help? He ran through the options, using that seer's brain of his, and played them out. It would be easy enough to wrap his tail around the ball and try and drag it away--he didn't fear the pain and figured he would heal quickly enough now--but it was more long and awkward than he usually expected it to be, and the last thing he wanted was to knock over one of the little guardians with it.

His sarong was an option, but not one he was willing to seriously consider. Chances are it would go up in flames, and with it so would a token of his memories of Zahra, which he wasn't willing to let go of even if he hadn't seen the filly in some time. It already had a few tears that needed mending, and he didn't want to add burn marks to it.

Lochan's magic... well, Ashamin wasn't sure how the dark mists would work on something as immortal and opposite elementally as the glow's source. On top of that he wasn't sure Lochan would listen to him if he asked for the aid now. The small cerndyr seemed occupied with something beyond Ashamin's vision--something darker in the woods, no, beyond that: something left behind in the Hidden Rotunda.

Ashamin let himself frown, let a soft exhale flow from his nostrils and a chill breeze catch in the hair that was slowly thickening around his neck as he considered further options. He highly doubted that the orb had a heartbeat he could dim and he wondered vaguely about the consequences if he tried. If he knew or expected anything, it was that any object with the God of the Spark's power in it would bite as loud as it barked, and this thing didn't look like a tame breed.

So what then? If it would cause him pain no matter what, then why not just accept that? There was no way that he, anyway, could pacify the magic. Ashamin would never presume to have power greater than anything left by a god like he assumed this purely electrical orb was. Why not just let himself hurt, if it would stop others from doing the same?

It wasn't as though he didn't deserve it.

"Alright, let me try something. But stand back, and don't be scared. My sparks won't hurt you, and I'll be alright if I get a bit burnt," Ashamin said by way of warning. He let his hind hoof swing back slowly in delicate warning, gesturing for Rakt to clear away, and nodded only when the red cerndyr had done as he was told. The Clovenheart took a step back, attempted to pull his own shapeless, undiscovered heart from his chest, and move it to wrap around the orb to keep it still and the two creatures safe.

Ashamin didn't stop to think of the burns that would form on his sides should he succeed, the small pricking of heat that would mix with the healing sparks coming out of his broken hide. He didn't wonder if the pain would be mild or if it would make him fall and cry, helpless and weak on the cold deep woods ground.

Could he fall further than he already had?

""

You're so cold but you feel alive

The sound of distant voices made the filly pause and look around, distracted from whatever thoughts that had been occupying her mind by the urgency she thought she detected in their tones. Tiny, high-pitched voices, a deeper and calmer one - their conversation was purposeful and like a moth to flames, Erthë found herself attracted to the scene. One day curiosity would probably be the end of her, but for all the strangeness of the scene that opened up before her as she made her way over to the gathered ones, she detected nothing threatening or harmful this time.

Well, at least nothing immediately dangerous. The wondrous orb of crackling energy that bounced around before her looked like it had the potential of causing some serious trouble, and she understood the concern of the stoats. Already it had left a trail of destruction in its wake, with burn marks and smouldering patches as proof of its passage; if it hadn't been winter still and cold, it would surely have started a wildfire already.

Tilting her head as she regarded the scene, Erthë studied the actions taken by the ones who had arrived before her. The work of the painted unicorn seemed somehow complex, entirely magical in nature, while the efforts of the small gray filly were straight-forward as they were simplistic. Nodding to herself the slender young cygnet stepped forth to join them, thoughts mulling over what she could do to aid the situation. Her own magic would be of little use. Water and electricity was not a good combination, and though she could dry the air by freezing all the moisture in the atmosphere around them all she would accomplish was to increase the danger of a fire starting.

No, she needed to come up with something else... and as she gazed upon the crackling, sparking orb a thought came to her, one that made her smile.

"Let me assist you" she said, and positioned herself on the other side of the orb, opposite the filly and her stone wall. "If you, good sir, can restrict the movements of this thing I can attempt to herd it towards this girl's wall. Together we may be able to keep it contained for some time..."

Erthë unfurled her wings from their restful position against her sides and spread them wide, careful to keep a respectful distance from the sizzling orb of energy as she brought them down and forth in a powerful beat. A blast of wind was created by the large appendages, one that grew steadily stronger as the child of pegasi blood kept beating her wings. Like a strong wind herded storm clouds across the sky, so she hoped to guide the orb up against Oizys' wall, pinning it between rock and wind.

It would not be a long term solution, for as soon as she stopped beating her wings the thing would be able to escape once more, but hopefully it would permit the agile little stouts to find a container of some sort.

'Catch it' they said... It seemed to Erthë that this was the easy part. But what on earth were they to do with the thing once it was caught?

Once more she had meandered from the path set out before her, lost on her way to finding the one thing she was after. She would have to reach the throat if there was ever any hope of progressing that task. But it was night, and though she shone brilliantly as if her own guiding light, she had little vision to offer her direction. She chose to fly instead of walk, her wings outstretched far and wide as the chilled night air made her feel a peace she hadn't in some time.

She wondered if getting her memories back was really worth all the effort she made others do for her, all the encumbersome help she required. She wasn't even certain anything would change, if it would make a difference; but that night she sighed and turned her attentions toward the ground in hopes of seeing green blend into sand.

What she came across, though, was nothing of the sort.

Below on the ground was a mass of confusion and activity, and she observed from the sky for a moment. The gathered equines--some horned, which sent shivers over her body--were surrounding a sparking orb that traveled at great speed toward what was becoming a solid wall. They were trying to stop it? She hesitated, wings stroking to keep her in place, unsure whether to help or keep flying. She had no magic, how was she to...?

An idea struck her much like the orb had done to the eagle. She would worry about being captured by the unicorns after the ordeal was over; then, however, it was her duty to help those of her land.
She aimed herself downward and propelled her body to the ground, pulling up short before reaching the grasses and standing directly in front of the wall being built. She nodded to those around her that would see, indicating that her only intentions were to help and she meant no threat. With her body fully aglow and lightning arcing between her stars, she hoped to be a homing beacon for the orb that moved straight. If she could somehow guide it toward her and jump out of the way quick enough it might hit the wall and cease its escapade. She prepared for her escape plan, legs bunched and wings spread wide. While the spirit-apparition tried to keep the orb from dodging up, surely there would be no other path for it to take?
.

     Lived unbruised,
we are friends; and I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Sigh no more.

All Ashamin had wanted was to go to the Dragon's Throat undisturbed by the same things that had forced him on this retreat. But the God of the Spark had his fucked up ways of damning blessing the haruspex with annoyances experiences when they were needed.

Which was why, he imagined, Ki'irha showed up. Showed up like a very piece of the heavens brought down to earth, clouding his vision and ruining his concentration, but seeming to ignore him almost entirely.

The clovenheart wondered if that was how he came off--as not wanting to be bothered. And perhaps that was true because all the others that arrived and became a crowd seemed to pay him and his rather obtrusive manifestation no mind as they built their walls and beat their wings.

But Ki'irha?

For the mare with whom so large a part of his heart rested to pay him no mind was insult to injury. And the injury was there, and it was raw, and it burned, because the moment that he saw Ki'irha--really saw her there like a bright star so beyond his reach that he felt a fool for ever trying--was the same moment that his magic did the very thing he'd asked of it.

The stoats' hearts were no longer his concern. Despite the fact that Ashamin's concentration had been shattered the moment Ki'irha had arrived, he had been utterly successful. Too successful, in fact, for when his shapeless heart first cradled the orb he felt a warmth so small and tickling that he barely registered it. Not knowing he had succeeded made the shock of the failure and consequential pain even more extreme.

The orb that tore out from his apparition sent a flaming heat out from inside him and through his chest, instantly burning a hole in the same place where Hotaru once had. Was it irony or luck? He didn't have time or the senses to reflect.

Lochan, too implicated by pain travelling across their bond to remain distant, darted Ashamin's way and sent dark mists trailing behind him and diving towards the orb. The little eye could not even pretend apathy; he was not so skilled at unfeeling as Rakt, who even now seemed oddly cold as he moved his red body stoically through the crowd and to Ashamin's side, leaving stardust in his wake.

Somehow, through the simmering dark that crept over his vision, Ashamin feared for the mare in blue. So many others in the crowd, perhaps even magic, and it was only she and his companions that he cared about now. Electricity forced its way through his chest and crackled over the burnt skin, slowly knitting together ugly red swaths and rebuilding skin. Hairs grew back in the same blue and gold that Hotaru had made them with her love and attention.

And it wasn't as though Ashamin would compare those loves, or any of the ones he had. And it wasn't as though Ashamin wanted Ki'irha to be what Hotaru was to him because she wasn't, and perhaps she never would be, but he wanted her to be something. He needed her to be in his life.

If their love was the sort that was full of hurt, that could not survive without the cold steel of each other's blades cutting into flesh, then so be it. Time would heal the wounds he would bare for her attention. Without her injury he would wither and starve. It was not up to her to deny him that bitter competition, that mutual understanding of the skill they both carried in the weaponry of their bodies and their ability to tear each other apart. Just as it had not been up to Rexanna whether or not he could love her while knowing she would not love him the same in return; just as it had not been up to Hotaru whether or not he could love her without taking the risk of her ruining his soul; it was not up to Ki'irha to end the fight of whatever love they had.

Determined to cling to what was left, even as darkness threatened to overtake his vision and his companions supported him, Ashamin sent a jolt of his magic towards the starry mare.

Let her heart skip just one beat. Ashamin the Clovenheart would not let her leave him behind.

""