Roaming eyes could search all they liked; it was unlikely they would settle upon the shimmering, fuzzy image of the little shadow that stalked the Threshold. A golden ray of sunlight – or was it a dragon? – filtered through the canopy above, darting this way and that. It was indeed a dragon, a queenly one at that, golden as the sun’s surface, glittering brighter than a sparkling crystal. The creature was bonded to the shadow-mare, by a link than ran deeper than even the ties blood could offer, a bond that combined their very souls and minds.

The singsong call of the equine and dragon were noticed, particularly by the dragon, who created a colourful trilling song as she flew above the fiery filly’s stance. Motions were made, a little ways away, by a dark smudge of a mare, it was difficult to know however – if one did manage to focus upon it for more than a second, they might think it was merely a trick of the sun’s heat, and continue on with their life. But it was a living, breathing creature who orchestrated this magic, this magic that defined her, just as her bond with her dragon did.

A smooth melody was hummed from the maw of the mistress, as she crept closer to the youthful femme. The shimmering veil fell away from her, and as she approached it was as if she were pulling herself directly from the shadows of the surrounding forest. The Threshold was a comfortable realm, for this mare enjoyed forests, but it was too close to the outskirts, too near to the part where Helovia became undefined and the wilds of the outside world more dominant over one’s existence. Warm, honey-gold eyes peered out from beneath silken tendrils of the charred mare’s forelock, a kind gaze held within them, though very little else was expressed by this devious little mare.

“Greetings.” The mare’s accented tones stated, and she bowed her sculpted tiara to the mahogany hued belle. Noting the unsettled way in which she was carrying herself, the mare tilted her tiara on a slight incline, showing her curiosity. “What brings you to Helovia?” The question was posed politely enough, a whisper of a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. The mare’s gaze roamed over the young belle, she was perhaps not that young, maybe only just coming of age, discovering the world for all it was worth. She stood upon the doorstep of a realm of opportunity, would she take the next step or would she trip at the doorway? Akaith glided easily down from the canopy now, alighting upon the obsidian one’s hide as delicately as a feather might land upon a pillow, her own swirling gem-like eyes drinking the sight before her for all it was worth.

[Meant to get a reply up the other day -sorry! :-) ]

The belle before her was, in a word; lost. The golden eyed femme could see this with ease, the insecurity, the curiosity, the excitement of what wonders would be awaiting her, the hesitance, the innocence – all the traits were freely expressed by the mahogany brown maiden, whose mane was as dark as Mirage’s entire bodice. It was odd for the shadowy mare, to think of what might happen to her should Akaith ever be wretched from this world before her own breathing ceased, and she were forced to go on – would she have been able to? But why would such things cross her mind, why should she think of ever being separated from Akaith, when such an event was unlikely, nay; impossible in her mind.

The exclamations of the youthful flicka stir warm feelings at first –but then she comments on the small stature of the queenly beast, and glittering scales rose on their points, a trail of dark smoke ascended slowly from her slitted nostrils. The dragon fixed this new mare with a sharp gaze, one that stared unswervingly through her very being. She doesn’t know any better, my dear, just as Vikram did not. Soothing tones sung a gentle hymn within her cranium, as the mare tried to calm the easily riled dragon. It worked, in part –at least the dragon did not spit a plume of flames at the other maiden like she had the last time her size was questioned.

A name was proffered to Mirage’s keenly awaiting ears, and she accepted it with a firm, polite nod, thinking it a kind and beautiful name, fitting for the naïve and gentle creature that stood before them. Her reply to the query Mirage had posed previously was a curious one, and the mare puzzled over it for a moment, for the deliberation which caused its delivery was noticed by her, and she wondered exactly which mother Isra was speaking of. Does she speak of the mother that birthed her, or a mother in the same respect that you are my own mother, sister, daughter; Akaith? The dragon was silent in her reply, equally perplexed but refusing to take too much interest in this filly until she was paid appropriately in compliments.

“My name is Mirage,” the mare extended, speaking her name and allowing the cloak of her magic to fall over her form a brief, fuzzy moment. “In response to your query regarding my beloved Akaith,” she referred to the golden creature who stared so probingly at the other, “she is no child, and has been by my side for most of my long life. They are relatively common here, smaller in size to their larger cousins, with abilities just as varied –the ability to bind to one’s mind and soul through the process of impression, being one example.” It was not the first time Mirage had discussed her beloved dragon and the bond that binds them with another in the Threshold, though last time it was with a beast who was equally draconic and equine in stature.

“Isra, your name is as delightful as the smile which so rarely decorates your visage; what is it your mother requested of you here?” Mirage was one to yearn for knowledge, oftentimes she came across as a heartless collector of the substance, taking it without giving any information away. But she was a changed mare, slightly, still devious in her ways, but more willing to give back; much more willing. The Qian was her reason for living now, just as her bond with Akaith, her magic and her mate were; she held them all with high esteem. For those parts of her to function properly she still needed knowledge, for knowledge was power – but she yearned for such power for different, less selfish reasons now. With a delicate smile openly curving her charred, velvet lips, she added;

“I ask only so that I might know if I am able to offer you my aid.”


[ I just, like, officially love Isra. <3 ]

The flicka before her seemed endowed with wisdom, a smarts that was hidden beneath youth and inexperience. It was difficult to explain, but her intelligence and careful manner of conducting herself drew Mirage in, the mare wanted to offer her comfort to the sad little minx, wanted to see a smile that touched upon all her features, not just the curvature of her delicate lips. The compliment paid to Akaith stroked the gold’s vanity appropriately, and amusement glittered behind the golden pools of Mirage as the dragon nodded affirmatively, her own draconic stance softening, welcoming the interaction to continue between the equines without fear of her flames or moodswings. You’re a silly creature. Mirage commented to her bonded playfully. There is no reason why I should not be treated like a queen amongst species other than my own. The dragon replied sharply, taking the baited comment in the manner that the mare expected.

“You are welcome, Isra.” The mare said, a little taken aback that she was being thanked so early on in the scheme of things. Kindness was something that did come naturally to the mare, though so many other things also came naturally to her, sometimes kindness was not the first trait she displayed. “My kin label me their leader, Isra. The Qian,” she spoke, stepping closer to the young maiden, so that the quiet warmth in her voice could be detected easier. “We welcome those who are willing to aid in protecting their fellows, in exchange for being protected.” The Qian were as much a part of Mirage as Akaith was, or her love for Vikram, the devotion behind her words was thick. “I hope one day to learn more about you, Isra; I enjoy learning of the lore and histories of other realms.” The comment was a bit different to where her words of the Qian were leading, but she connected them together with an easy, warm smile. “Should you wish it, the Qian would be glad to aid you in discovering and completely this mysterious task.”

Mirage held a lot of sway, in a lot of places. Though she called no herdland her home – yet – the Qian offered a security far better than a simple land could. She felt protected by her kin, just as her kin felt protected by her. She knew that any newcomers she encountered wouldn’t know any of this, but she also appreciated that it took time to earn one’s trust. Mirage was not one to trumpet her achievements out to the world, the friendships she held with figures of power were not insignificant; but there she stood, just simply as a mare who claimed to be a leader to a stranger. She could see how hard it would be to be in Isra’s place, but she hoped that the honest way in which she was conducting herself conveyed the truth behind all that she said.

Mirage’s eyes softened with fondness as the belle spoke the name of her group, the Qian. It did indeed hold a special meaning to Mirage, for it defined everything the mare was about. Warm tones shed some light for the youthful mare before her, as the little shadow mare tried to explain the meaning of her beloved group.

“The words themselves hint to a kind of hidden talent, lit by moonlight. Those that make up the group are ones I hold very dear; the Qian is more than a simple band of souls, they are my family, Isra.”

She hoped her words answered all aspects of Isra’s potentially broad query, and watched as the youth became thoughtful. She liked her, for the younger one did take the time to think – something that certainly was not done often enough of late. A smile crossed her shadowy maw as Isra inquired about finding the Qian.

“We reside mostly to the south, in the Deep Forest, though some of my kin also take residence amidst a herdland. Akaith often frequents our kin, so that I might know when I am needed – if you wish to join us, Isra, you need only look for her golden form in the sky and I shall come whenever you might need me.”

The invitation to join the Qian was hidden amongst her words, but she knew the sharp little femme would pick up on it – at least she did hope so, for she would like to gain the curious belle’s company. Addressing the youth’s second query, Mirage launched into her spiel about the Gods with an experienced and knowing air.

“The Veins of the Gods is further south than the Deep Forest, there you will find shrines of the three Gods of Helovia; the God of the Sun, the God of the Earth and the Goddess of the Moon. None know when the Gods might grace them an audience, but it is a spectacular climb at the very least.”

Here she paused her speech, having answered all the queries the young Isra had for now, her twin flutes awaiting potentially for more to come.

The dragon huffed again, though this time not in anger, but pleased acceptance of the filly’s words. She is a sharp one. The queen thought to her bonded, before abruptly taking to the air and leaving the vicinity. Mirage’s own eyes of aureate followed her briefly, before her gentle gaze looked once more to Isra.

“But of course,” the mare said, her voice pleasant and welcoming. “May the Gods bless you, as you deserve.” Extending her muzzle, she offered the soft velvet maw to the younger one to accept or deny, either way Mirage would not take offence.

“Be wary in the Deep Forest; the Qian are not the only things to reside there.” A small word of caution, given freely simply because she did like this youthful belle. “I look forward to seeing you again.” And answering any questions you might have, her expression may have conveyed the thoughts she had.

Being full of questions was a mark of intelligence, that one was observant enough to realise they had to ask questions in order to fully understand something suggested a desire to learn. Mirage, being a soul always yearning for more knowledge, knew the value of questions, and would gladly ask her own of the cherub when the time was right.

Bowing her graceful countenance to her, the mare took her leave, her path was directed South, though her cloak soon shimmered over her bodice. Should Isra be perceptive enough, she may be able to follow the scent of the mare most of the way towards the southern protrusion of the Veins.

[sorry about the wait, just wanted to wrap things up and yeah xD ]