Ophelia had not the slightest notion of her parentage, and the fact that she was followed around by a silver dragon made no mark on her memories. She had forgotten the lore of the dragons and the equines, forgotten her lineage and had forged a new life which now lay in shambles. The horn on her brow told her that she was a unicorn, and nothing else seemed to make any difference to her assumptions. Even in comparison to the stallion who stood next to her, she was more of a unicorn than his appearance would ever warrant. Where he was muscular and strongly build, she was slender, but the most telling difference were her cloven hooves. Perhaps the strength of her unicorn blood was more ancient and purposeful, or perhaps she was fortunate in the luck of the genetic draw. Either way, her appearance told her that she was a unicorn, and she had no reason to doubt that fact as truth.
Little did she know that she stood straddling two worlds, cloven hooves dipping into treacherous, equine territory and dragon's blood flowing perilously in a land of the crowned brows. The history of her short life spoke of being in many places and never belonging to one, like a leaf at the mercy of a stormy breeze. She would touch down, settle, only to be caught again, slave to the master of her fate.
But not here. In this world of dreams and fantasy, she a queen of her own mind, and she was confident. The realm of sleep invited her into opening her soul and baring the inner workings of her soft heart, coaxing her into a false comfort. Naively she believed that he would not harm her, but she had no memories of when he watched her dying. Mauja was a lucky bastard that she had not searched too far into her sister's mind - that she had not seen through her sister's eyes her figure laying among the trees, slowly sinking into death while the king of her dreams complained about how arduous of a task toting away her lifeless body would be. In fact, it was almost cruel now, her open devotion to his heartbreak and sorrow; the way she touched his cheek so affectionately with her muzzle with an earnest heart was too genuine for their history.
And yet, she had forgiven him, even before losing her memories. When he was injured, she selflessly came to his aide, though she was powerless against the injuries of the flesh. Many would call her repeated running into danger with kindness rather foolish, but to Ophelia, she was being true to her soul and the health of her heart. To forgive others for their heartache was not a luxury she had been granted when she was young, and she had seen the injustice done unto her by Nyra. The hatred that had filled her heart for the mare her mother slaughtered brought her more pain that it did pleasure, and she struggled to let the past go. How could she? When she could remember the feeling of her life being stolen away from her body, cell by cell as if she were living the moment again, smell the air turn to a cloud, and heard voices as if she were underwater, dying? The question stood: was it humane to live as she was now, half of who she was and simply sad, or return to being whole and filled with intimate details of tragedy?
The rain cloud that followed in her wake was more of a spring shower in comparison, and the sorrow in her eyes was not as dark as the hopelessness they held before. As she looked openly into the gold orbs of her dreams, the mare was a rather blank slate and an open book with no history of his transgressions nor her lineage tainting her smile. Would the rain ever stop falling, she wondered? Or with ever face she met, would the thunderstorm be renewed? Until her memories were restored, the rain had no choice but to fall.
Her eyes closed briefly when his muzzle touched her own, letting his hopeful words touch her heart. "To not dwell in sorrow and enjoy a new start to my life would be to leave this place and its inhabitants forever," she replied honestly, sighing. "I would leave my sister, whom I know little about, friends who are discovering me before I them, and, I assume, a family. Abandoning them to enjoy a new life would be rather selfish, I think," she mused to herself, the thoughts of her mind moving to her lips. Dreams were safe, right? Gently, she rested more against his side, her tail swishing to and fro. "I believe my answers lie in my past, but I dot not know where to retrieve them," she said honestly.
Suddenly, she paused, frows furrowing as she gazed into his eyes. "I am sorry," she murmured softly. "I was droning about my problems, and you are trapped here." She exhaled, her breath moving in a white cloud again. Reality was sinking in from her side. Snow fell onto her back and melted away, dropping from the ceiling of the cave. "Perhaps we will find the way out... at the end of the tunnel?" she suggested, wondering if there was a way to portal him into her reality. Ophelia was being vastly optimistic, but she made a promise. She intended to keep it.
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