The flowers and the grasses of the Steppe were not the only ones that were waking up with the warm weather. A rumbling in the earth as something much larger woke. It wasn’t a yeti making ridiculous requests - the ground itself was shifting in the mountains.

One mountain was calling to another - though, today, Isopia wouldn’t be the tallest by far.

Her name would be a rumbling beneath her hooves, a resonate beckoning that went as deep as the earth’s core.

But if Isopia had asked anyone else if they had heard it, or if they had felt it, they wouldn’t have.

The mountain that was waking shifted its body - revealing something very horse-like, though with rocky cliffs and peaks cascading down its spine. It didn’t stand so much as uncurl - its large, rocky head turning up away from where it had been tucked by its side for eons.

Its skin was uneven rock face, cracking in some parts and shining in the sunlight with minerals imbedded within in others.

Once its head was raised, it waited - its eyes did not open just yet, but it took a deep breath that caused another rumble to course through the ground.

 
Unlike some who entered Helovia from lands far away where magic did not radiate through wars, politics, and the daily lives of those within these borders, Isopia was no longer surprised be the presence of supernatural occurrences in her life. And so, as the ground rumbled with the frequency of what felt like far away thunder or a distant earthquake, Isopia simply listened to the rhythmic beating of the earth around her. 

It was only after a moment that she realized that the repetitive pulse was sounding out her name. Both of her dragons looked to her eagerly, wondering what it was they were about to do. Babel, being the youngest, was filled with a frenetic curiosity, while Hubris merely remained stoic and calm, waiting to support Isopia in whatever she would need. 

I bet it's my Father, she thought silently to them, taking wing and flying to where she assumed the origin of the earthen-drums was. 

Although Isopia wasn't overly familiar with the Steppe, she knew the area well enough to realize that something had changed, even if she couldn't immediately discern precisely what it was. However as she neared, her large golden eyes widened further in amazement as her mind seemingly overlayed the image of a giant horse in the mountain range. Isopia was familiar with this quirk of how her mind (and everyone elses) worked. Seeing faces and familiar things in random patterns was simply some sort of mechanism programmed into their brain structure.  But as Isopia neared, blinking her eyes hard to try and make herself see the mountain, instead of the giant horse, she found that she couldn't. 

Was it really there?

Continuing to remain airborne, Isopia glided to where the 'head' was supposed to be. And indeed, the longer she looked, the more she could see closed eyes, nostrils, ears. The mountain horse still appeared to be immobile - or at least she assumed that it was given that it's 'eyes' were closed - but certainly the rumbling appeared to be coming from this direction. 

"Father?" She called uncertainly, eyeing the mountain with her usual mixture of academic curiosity. 

There was no rush for Isopia to arrive - although the mountain-horse was awake and it wouldn’t be for very long, time certainly passed differently when you were made of stone and wood. It was still waking when she did arrive, the process was gradual and could not be rushed. Another slow breath was released as Isopia glided nearby - uncertainly addressing the mountain, asking if it was her father.

“Not quite.” The mountain replied in a booming voice - not distinctly male or female and while similar to the Earth God’s rumblings, it would be clear that this was most definitely not Isopia’s father.

Then it opened its eyes - the only things not made of rock or wood about the creature. They were a vivid green, the bright green of new sprouts in Birdsong, and very similar to a normal horse’s eyes except they were as tall as Isopia’s body. They glinted with life, with knowledge and age that went as far back as the earth itself. The mountain angled its head so it could regard the demigod before it carefully and fully. A long silence stretched out as it peered at her, before making a rumbling comment. “You’re not as tall as I expected, Mountain.”

 

As soon as the mountain spoke, Isopia felt immensely silly for thinking that this range of stone and rock was her father. Of course it wasn't. The God of the Earth wouldn't waste so much time and effort simply to become a mountain range to speak with his daughter. If anything, he'd just call her name in front of everyone, as he had done before, and ruin any semblance of secrecy that she had left. As the mountain opened its eyes, the feeling of bitterness disappeared as interest and curiosity took hold of Isopia's mind.

You’re not as tall as I expected, Mountain

To this, Isopia made no immediate reply. That it had incorrectly assumed something about her height didn't seem worth commenting on. But, in her continued attempt to be less socially awkward, Isopia offered a small shrug. "It is probably more difficult to judge height, given your distance from the ground." She acknowledged.

Delighted by this turn of events, Hubris trilled a bright hello to the mountain range, flitting towards its verdant eye with eager amusement and interest. Babel, less curious, did not.

"I heard your call." Isopia began, already feeling uncomfortable with opening pleasantries. "It felt...nice. But I assume there is something you needed from me. " She ventured, as presumably mountains didn't just wake up and reach out for no reason. If they did, she likely would have seen one doing it long before now.

An earthquake of a laugh shook the land around the Steppe at Isopia’s response to the mountain horse’s comment about her height. It had heard whispers in the trees that grew along its sides that the Earth’s daughter was almost ridiculously logical, and perhaps she hadn't meant it was a joke but the mountain enjoyed her comment all the same.

“Straight to the point then.” The mountain grumbled, pulling its gigantic head back a little bit as disappointment coloured its rumbling voice. She seemed so eager to get through this little meeting! “You know, this is the first conversation I’ve had in… well, in a very long time.” Its voice faded with this sentence, large eyes blinking in a fashion so slow that a full minute passed. Indeed, the mountain had almost fallen asleep again but it caught itself - shaking it’s rocky head and causing some boulders to loosen and cascade to the ground with a thundering clash.

Its eyes flashed open again and it peered closer again. “Yes, I require something from you - a sacrifice of sorts.” So giant was the green eye that it didn’t need to move or flicker to take in Isopia fully as it regarded her before explaining, briefly, what that sacrifice was. “One of your magics.”

 
That she misinterpreted the mountain made her clamp her teeth together for a moment as her mind scurried to find the problematic assumption that she made. She had thought that such a slow moving creature wouldn't want to delay in its correspondences with someone it judged as being so small. Surely mountains had better things to do, and Isopia was merely trying to speed the process along so that it could get back to...er.. mountaining.

But apparently that wasn't the case.

"I had thought you'd want it over with quickly. I had thought that if you wanted to talk more, you would do. But that you hadn't was an indication that you didn't particularly like it." Her quad-horned head shook slightly, trying to smear away her poor justifications. "I would speak with you as long as you like, about anything you like."

Floating before the mountain's giant moss-coloured eye, Isopia felt as though she could easily fit herself into its pupil. As she was deducing this, she almost missed what the mountain had said.

A sacrifice?

One of her magics?

It wasn't as though Isopia was greedy or stingy, but what she was, was confused.

"Certainly." She agreed as soon as her mind caught up with the mountain's request. "Can you tell me why?" The (smaller) Mountain asked, not wanting to seem as though she was questioning the great stony creature, but merely curious of what need it had of her. "My stone magic ... an offshoot of my mother's ... Would that provide a worthy sacrifice?"

Something very near to a smile pulled at the corner of the mountain’s sizeable mouth. “Understandable mistake.” The mountain nodded its great head once, dismissing Isopia’s explanations before offering some of its own, finding it easier to talk the more it did. “It takes me a long time to wake, and even longer to get to sleep again. Sometimes... it is nice to enjoy the in-between.”

The flying horse was incredibly accommodating, only asking why one of her magics was needed. “Would you believe me if I told you I feed on magic? It takes a great amount of it to keep me alive, you know. Not all of these mountains can move and speak the way I do.” It gestured to the other peaks that lay to the north, slumbering away and not moving or giving hints of waking.

She even had a suggestion on what magic could be taken from her! Really, it had expected a little more of a fight but it was perfectly pleased with how this was going. “It would. But do you not feel sentimental towards that magic at all? If it is related to one of your mothers?”

 
Isopia wasn't entirely sure whether or not the mountain's question was rhetorical. In one sense, no, she likely wouldn't believe that the mountain fed on magic. Mountains, by definition, were accumulated rocks and other geological features. So no, a mountain wouldn't require magic to stay alive, but a grouping of stones which could sleep, wake, and speak to her - not to mention reach out over the expanses of Helovia to draw her to it - was surely not a mountain. So in that sense, yes she did believe it.

As her attention was drawn to the other peaks nearby, Isopia was startled to realize that she had no idea how many of them - or how to tell - were mountain-facsimilies. "Are they all..." She began, diverting her eyes back to the large green iris . "Are they all like you? Have we been wrong about mountains this whole time?" Her mind suddenly blundered forwards, imagining constant magical sacrifices that would need to be made to appease the slumbering giants.

At the mountains finally question, Isopia could only allow her shoulders to rise and fall in a gesture that was uncharacteristically childish. "I don't feel sentimental towards...much of anything." She admitted. "Least of all that magic. I will always be related to my mother by blood. I don't need magic to remember that relation."

Isopia’s gaze travelled to the mountain peaks farther away than the one speaking to her before she asked whether she had been wrong about mountains this whole time. “Not all.” The mountain winked - though its head was so large that the effect might have been a little lost. If you couldn’t see the other eye, it just looked like a blink doesn’t it? Well all the same, when that slow lid retracted once more there was a delighted gleam in its gaze. “But some.”

It wouldn’t explain further - those were secrets well guarded - but this mountain had a feeling if any one of Helovia’s creatures might encourage more mountains to wake, it would be this mare.

A slow, understanding nod served as the mountain’s acceptance of Isopia’s explanation that she did not feel sentimental towards the magic. A sacrifice was required to keep the magic of the mountains alive but there was no need for it to cause pain to the giver.

Or, well, no emotional pain. “This may sting a little.” The mountain warned - it was unsure just how much it would hurt to tear the bonds of the magic out from the mare, pain not being something that it understood well. Maybe the gods knew of a less painful way to do this, but subtlety wasn’t exactly easy when you are essentially a great heap of rocks.

The green of the mountain’s eyes darkened as it focused on Isopia - literally turning richer, deeper shade of green as the magic flowed from Isopia and into its body. A fulfilled sigh escaped the mountain when the transfer was complete, eyes closing as the rejuvenating sensation of taking in the magic spread through its body.

 
That some mountains were as alive as this one was perhaps the most interesting thing Isopia had heard in the entirety of her life. Who else knew? Was it a secret? Did they only wake when they needed magical sustenance? Did they mind being stepped on?

So many thoughts flooded her mind and although she wanted to ask them (the mountain did say that it wouldn't mind a conversation), Isopia kept silent for the time being. It hadn't yet taken from her what it needed, and she did not want it to grow weak and fade away, simply because her curiosity could not be contained.

At the warning of pain, Isopia did nothing. She had trained herself well over the years to dull the instinctual responses that she had to pain, and she thought that perhaps this case would be no different. However as magic was pulled from her very core, Isopia had to bite her lip hard to keep from crying out. Her hovered position near the mountain's eye stuttered somewhat as her muscles had to strain to keep beating against the tirade of pain she felt inside of herself, and the bizarre emptiness that followed.

But the mountain appeared to be rejuvinating before her very eyes, and that was well worth the weird sensation. Pain passed and could be forgotten. Mountains though? Mountains were forever.

"Better?" She inquired softly. "What will you do now? Now that you're awake again?"