ultima

She’d just taken a plucky glide towards where Gawen had fallen, her expression tight with determination as she held the tired muscles firm. He was right, the landing was the tricky part; there were times when she quite had the hang of it, coming to a tidy rolling stop with only a bit of a stumble, but that was when she was fresh. Flying was more mentally exhausting than she thought it was. There was so much she still had to think about: how well she launched from the earth, her down-thrust, the angle of her wings, the feel of the wind, all these fundamentals that the other ladies never seemed to think about anymore. And her whole body was just heavy, the muscles fit to burst— “Drat,” she hissed, nearly running tail over teakettle—

Her poor little knees would be sore for days. 

Picking herself up, Ultima managed to suppress the irritated snort but not the quick stamp of her hoof. “So close!” she said, pursing her lips at the boy. Not unkindly though, or discouragingly. Gawen’s steady improvement had kept her own resolve from faltering, his willingness to try – over and over and over again, and fifty times more – keeping her impatience in check. And Alysanne was right: he was growing stronger and stronger, though he might not have noticed it for all the tumbling. It renewed her own hope, especially on days like these when she felt like a proper rock. “We’ll get it next time,” she declared, leaning down to ruffle his tufty mane with her muzzle. “All of us, and then—”

“Who’s been teaching you guys to fly? Because jumping off a rock is probably not the easiest way.”

“Oh,” she said, balking before even turning. Making an about-face, her expression was considerably less stern than she’d planned – “Please don’t say it’d be faster to hop off the cliff.” – ever the open book, her eyes, gold as new coins, betrayed her anxiety in full. “Please. It’s hard enough as it is.”

Alysanne she saw first, recognizable both as Queen and classmate. The other was— ‘Lyanna. That’s right.’ The mare with the kindly expression and the bright blue-green eyes was a Moon Doctor, just like Tilney was. Ultima had seen her frequently out and about the Edge, conducting her work; from what the girl knew, Lyanna was the gracious sort, responsible, and as capable at flying as she was healing. And Aly trusted her. Ultima, who placed great faith in the Edge’s leaders, didn’t have the gall to question that credention.

So a little warily, Ultima frowned but made herself game. “Well, alright, then.” They wouldn’t know unless they tried. That’s what this was all about, after all. “What do you suggest?”

dear god, make me a bird so i can fly far away from here