Amaris didn't know where she was.

The mists of the Edge had always been a comfort, a solace. But the mists, though still present, had lost their potency, their ability to give her comfort.

The chilling words of the Goddess, and the instant that followed where everything changed in a subtle, unseeable yet subtly tangible way had affected Amaris. Finally, she was able to act without emotion, for she barely felt emotions anymore.

She walked, blind to her destination, her purpose. She walked, letting go of the nostalgia at last, moving past the figures of her history whose presence was so strong here even though they were long since passed.

She could go to her father's land. To live with the dragons, forevermore.

But Dramyrth couldn't.

The last time they had, he had almost died.

And Amaris could not lose her soul, could not lose him, for he was the king of her heart, the golden, glimmering soul who gave her a reason to live, even now, when she felt so empty, so numb inside.

Amaris was in shock, if anything.

They wandered, two figures blended into one, as the golden dragon clung to his bondmate's mane, his form perched atop her withers. They would stay close forevermore, lest they risk the chance of their descending into separate graves with the coming end of times nearing.

That was what it felt like, if she were to feel anything. That the end of everything was nearing, and that there was nothing any of them could do about it.

When the Gods and Goddesses left the realm, the lowly mortals who remained were often harshly reminded of their mortality.

Amaris did not know Kaos, not as well as the others, who had interacted more with him before he had revealed himself a true threat. She did not know what he was capable of, though she had used to hope, to cling to an idea that maybe whatever he was bringing would be good for Helovia - maybe Helovia was due for all of this.

But now? Now she just felt like a ruined ghost, wandering the mists of the world, standing on a precipice, looking out over the expanse of the world beyond, and feeling a whole lot of nothing about it all.

The dragonmare stood on the edge of the world, wings splayed slightly, feeling the breeze (at least she could still feel the wind), smelling the salt, watching the foamy waves break upon the jagged rocks below. When a mental tug from her companion alerted her to another's presence, she turned her tiara, and beheld the legend of her childhood.

FrostHeart, he had been called then, but he was the Frozen Light now. Blessed by the Goddess, though with what she didn't know, probably would never know.

He looked like a ghost, a memory, a figure in the mists, wandering on the edge just as she had, though with far more grace and sense of belonging to the land than she would ever hold.

She didn't know how she came to stand here, she realised belatedly, how fast she had travelled, though there was the hint of sweat upon her body, and her sides expanded and collapsed with the motion of one catching their breath.

She didn't notice his limp, his condition, though she got the impression that he was some kind of wraith, some spectre from beyond this realm, here to shepherd her onwards to the next. Amaris watched him, soundless, unfeelingly.

And silent tears rolled down her face.

Amaris