O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

"Mauja?" the word gets whispered onto the air, gently and without malice. It is not the bitch of the Dragon's Throat that has been alerted by the shimmering visage of a horse standing among the red sand. The soft eyes of her daughter, instead, come to rest on his partially translucent body.

Onni had been returned home from the Meadow, a gathering of herbs not native to the desert rested easily between her wings. Lyhty, the small little song bird, stood atop the pile like a guard, a very small yet serious guard. His small black beak was hoisted toward the sky proudly, only stopping when the mighty thought of curiosity hit his brain, a message sent unknowingly by the painted mare he rode upon. With a few hops, Lyhty comes to rest upon Onni's crown, chirping slightly while peering ahead with tiny, beaded red eyes. His exploration of the desert scene is cut short as Onni steps her pace up to a canter. A rush of air pushes Lyhty back from her crown with a surprised squawk, landing him back on the herbs nestled between her wings. A cheerful laugh from his soulmate follows him.

Whoever the mystery guest was, Lyhty was quite certain he had heard Mauja. The little bird did not remember the Ice King, and is hit with a sudden flit of jealousy as he realizes that someone has met the gentle healer before him. Onni had an entire life before bonding to Lyhty, but the songbird often forgot this to be the case. This Mauja was a relic from her life before the bond, and while he was slightly excited, he was more annoyed than anything else.

The mare was so focused on the glimmering white figure that she hardly noticed the shadows beginning to flow behind her line of vision. The closer she got, the more noticeable the shadows became, and Lyhty peeps up in surprise. Onni turns her face to look back and catches the moment, halting suddenly. Twisting her head about, the healer sees the moving of shadows in her peripheral, but cannot seem to catch them. "What in the world?" she asks, slowing her movement to a walk and holding her muscles ready to sprint out of the way of ghouls that linger here. Perhaps after this adventure, Onni would need to visit the God of the Sun once more to ask if something haunted the Dragon's Throat.

Stepping close toward Mauja, approaching from behind being sure that her presence is not one of stealth. She had no need to frighten the Ice King, though the thought of his passive face curling into an expression of fear would be humorous. "Mauja the Frostheart," she says respectfully, walking easily toward his side and looking up toward his face with a soft smile. "If my mother finds you so far in our borders unaccompanied, she might behead you. Allow me to travel with you during your stay." A laugh, golden like a bell, rings out from her lips. The shadows at the edge of her vision pose no immediate threat. The more alarming reality is that Onni can partially see the blue of the sky behind Mauja's face. Was he a ghost? Had he died?

That thought was sorrowful, causing the healer's tail to whip behind her legs and Lyhty's chirp to ring slightly from his throat in a soothing manner. "What happened to you, Mauja?"

O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

The blue eyes of the sky turn sad. His startled movements are jagged, leaving behind a trail of bright white for brief moments, a mist which clung to his partially eroded figure. Onni was certain Mauja was no longer in her world, the one where she stood now. The mare had no way of knowing about his slip into a different time, only knew that this version of Mauja was not the statue of beautiful ice which had walked beside her with ethereal grace. This apparition held his face, but even the expressiveness of the normally collected eyes were different. This was not Mauja the Frostheart as Onni had known him, for he was gone from this world; she would have bet her healing ability upon it.

He was here, though, could obviously see her and hear her voice. Her concern laces the pale features of her face, and the healer steps closer toward the transparent version of Mauja. After a few moments, consideration on the face of the Frostheart, her name is whispered. Onni smiles encouragingly at this ghost. He was physically gone, but his mind remained. Judging from his lack of control over the look in his eyes and the sporadic movements of his body, the mare did not know for how much longer that would uphold. Standing before the great tree of Dragon's Blood, the King surely should know where he stood, but the question that seeps out of his mouth next begs her to question even that.

Why are you here? Onni looks about, noticing the shadows at the corner of her vision once more as they dance and dazzle. Lyhty begins to chrip nervously at her, noticing the mood her mind had taken on. What was once excitement was now taking on something worried and sad, a lingering breath of mourning in the face of the dead. The bird knew from the depressed mood Onni often had during thunderstorms that lightning reminded her of someone, someone gone. It was this that lead the little songbird to think this Mauja was not the first ghost she knew. "You are in the Dragon's Throat," she says to him, her voice quiet and calm. "Why should I not be here?" Her smile is weak, speaking of the worry which settles in her chest, but Onni has already found the alternative meaning of the king's question.

He was not referring to the desert. He was asking why he, a creature living in the afterlife, could see the one who was still a part of the living. Believing Mauja has crossed over from the land of the living, Onni's eyes drift sadly up to his pools of blue. "How is it that I can see you?" Was the shaman so tied to life that she could now see the spirits of Helovia wandering lost on this earth still? In the deep recesses of her mind, a hope that Onni might speak once more to Voltaic in such a manner rises. Her heart clinches, thinking of her dead mentor whom she was unable to save. If Onni was given one more chance to talk to the joyful stallion of black and yellow, she would thank him for being the father she had needed in her life. She would thank him for teaching her strength. She would thank him for giving her resilience. She would tell him all the things she should have while he was still with her in this world.

It was funny that out of all the ghosts she could have met, Mauja was the one she had the least to say to. Death has a terrible sense of humor.

O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

A wisp of a bird forms on Mauja's back, and Onni looks speculatively at it for a moment, the edges blurred. The pegasus is not surprised, having found Lyhty herself, that the Frost King had found another to help shoulder his burdens. Her eyes focus back on his stunning face. Even in the blurred edges of their reality, the modest little mare was quite put to shame by the statue of ice and cold blue highlights of the great King of the Edge. It was had to believe that such a stoic creature had been cast out of his thrown by her mother and the Qian, but Onni still felt that a crown was nestled easily upon the head of the Frostheart. He may bare no title, he may be a ghost, but above anything else, Mauja held the presence of royalty. It had been something that grounded Onni in his presence in their first meeting, but even now, fading and broken, the face of the unicorn made her feel small.

The idea of the Ice King being dead was something that was still strange to the healer, even though she had accepted it only a few moments before. He was one of those great creatures you hear about in tales and legends, one that sounds invincible to the young ears of the audience. For such a knight to be felled must have been an impressive feat, but perhaps the most impressive feat was the will of the stallion to pull through to this world. Dead or alive, there was a respect held in the pale faced healer's heart for the unicorn her mother held a strange hatred for in her chest. His words, normally precise and cool, detached and unaffected, have an odd tone to them. The uncertainty is spoken open, honestly, and for a brief moment Onni feels closer to the statue made of stone. Stripped of normal reservations, the painted mare feels as though she is seeing a side behind the mask of the stallion rarely witnessed in life. It makes her smile to herself a bit. Maybe fate was not as humorless as she thought.

Maybe she was meant to know this icy unicorn all the better.

The next words are just as hesitant, at least in their formation, his face taking a light of desperation that makes her eyebrows furrow over worried blue eyes. She is confused, and it is not something to be surprised about. His step brings him closer, the movement shuddering throughout his figure which fades, reilluminates, moves. The blur of darkness in the corners of her blue eyes captures her attention momentarily, trying to focus upon the owl and the unicorn staring at her like a lost child across a mass of fog. They were standing so close, closer than they had in life, yet the distance between them felt massive. Two beings that were separated by a distance Onni cared not to travel, yet being able to meet through some miracle. Still, Mauja spoke of others, and it makes her wonder what he meant. "Others?" Had he met with others in the afterlife? Had he seen Voltaic? The hope was too much to ask for, and the shaman would not ask such a selfish thing.

This moment was about Mauja the Frostheart. The thinning of his voice worried Onni more than anything, the way he seemed paranoid, frightened, amazed, and excited all at once, like his mind was about to snap under the pressure of the unknown. Did ghosts even have minds? His question makes her smile, laughing slightly at the thought that she was the one who should be questioned for authenticity. Silently, Onni muses how her splotchy figure of white and chocolate appear to the eyes of the King. "Aye, I am real as far as I know. I am beginning to question if you are real, but Helovia is a magical and mysterious place," she nods. "I believe anything is possible." She had seen many shadows of the dead rise from their graves. Mauja would not be a novelty in her life. Besides, Onni had never been one to hallucinate. Why would she start now?

O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

Uncertain of Mauja's intent, Onni just watches steadily, her face calming into smoother lines that are complacent. Her worry would do no good infecting the stallion who was already on his wit's end, so the painted mare made a concerted effort to avoid showing the upset in her gut upon her face. Hardly more than strangers, side by side in separate worlds, Onni was pleased to be company for the white stallion on this day. Her heart was an open window allowing any easy entry, and while the tobiano knew little about the former King of the Edge, his behavior was out of sorts for the small image she had clung to in her memories. Whatever his current experience was, it became obvious that it had wrecked his emotions that were previously held close to his chest. Frayed, splayed, open, Onni could see the edges of his thoughts like the blurred edges of his body. This was not the stoic creature she met.

The healer began to collect herself well enough to view this appaloosa as a patient, dead or otherwise. Perhaps her sunfire would not touch him where he stood, but her presence might still offer the comfort that underlies all the intentions of any medic. More important than healing the physical wound was offering peace of mind. If her company were to soothe the ache in his heart even a little, her job would be fulfilled. Silently, Onni stepped a tad closer to him, light eyes watching him intently with familiar warmth, radiating out across her face. She nods as he speaks, encouraging, shrugging her shoulders as his apology slurs out. "You do not have to apologize. I will listen to you, Mauja," she says, her voice sweet and light as always. "I do not fully understand, but I will listen." Perhaps, if she could come to understand, she may be able to help the spirit trapped with one foot in the realm of Helovia.

The shaman stays close, even as Mauja begins to have paranoia creep onto the edges of his face, fading and jerking uncertainly with a movement that screamed of nerves. She follows obediently, one ear cocked in his direction while her face turned forward. Lythy chirps nervously, burrowing himself in the wing on her shoulder, hiding his from from the sliding of the black bodies of trees as they passed the lines of their vision. Onni could never make out the forest, but she had a sense of being enclosed. Weaving with the footsteps of Mauja that bring them safely out of the past forest, clear finally of the shadows in the backs of her eyes, Onni wonders why their pace is slowing. To her, moving farther away from the Dragon's Blood tree leaves them only in the middle of harsher desert, for the ocean had long since receded further from the land. His words draw eerily, speaking of the others he had met.

An impassive yet warm face is kept in place on the pale expanse of Onni's face as he speaks, even as he mentions her being present with him. Where was she, if not in the red land she had called her home? "A separate Helovia?" she asks, her brows knitted down momentarily in confusion before she realizes once more that she is playing therapist, not detective. Quickly, she restores the same calm expression, looking out over the rolling carpet of fiery sand and rock. Somewhere else. Onni had no idea where else he could be. Even if he were to be dead to her world, would he invision a separate set of lands? Would those he had known reappear as different persons, like malicious spirits inhabiting the bodies of loved ones to play some cruel joke? More and more, the certainty she had felt that Mauja was dead began to slip. There was no better explanation, but even this did not explain everything.

"What is separating you from me?" she muses outloud to herself, feeling the songbird hop back to life on her shoulder now that they were clear of the phantom forest. "You are in my home, but what do you see?" How can you be in two places at once?

O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

The Ice King remained silent while Onni mused to herself, staring out over the sand as they came to a stop, seeing nothing but a deep orange and the blue sky above for as long as she could see. Perhaps, faintly in the distance, was the glimmer of the ocean that once reigned here. Squinting her eyes against the harsh light, Onni raises one of her wings up to offer as convenient shade from the sun above, looking further, thinking with an absent expression about Mauja's predicament. The mare had not entirely decided whether he was alive or dead, though she was wavering closer on the brim of his death. Ghosts did not explain his confusion, his separate Helovia. The difference of their worlds no longer felt like one of mortality.

A shimmer catches her attention briefly as the bird upon his back flies up, glittering out of her vision as though she ascended to the heavens. Mauja seems less concerned, so Onni has a feeling his companion has not disappeared in his world. As she stares up at the azure sky, trying to find a hint of the owl, the masculine voice begins to speak. Instantly, the painted mare's pale face turns back toward him, a smile on her face. "Being quite certain of my authenticity, I'd hardly call you mad." She laughs, her voice like a bell, inhabiting the mirth that the Ice King lacked. The heart of golden light she wore in her chest was never one to hold worries tightly, though it would be difficult to say she was unaffected. All of her losses were carried with her, and her griefs were close under the surface. However, as long as the sun rose in the morning, her days were bright. There was no need to dwell on the dark corners of her life.

Her smile stays in place as a glimmering blue eyes opens to her, but she was not prepared for the words which rolled nonchalantly out of Mauja's mouth. Surprised, Onni turns her head back behind her, seeing nothing but the desert floor and the Dragon's Blood. "I did not!" she says, thinking herself tricked by a cunning master. Feeling like a foolish filly for looking behind her, Onni extends a chocolate wing in his direction, finding that her feathers have no purchase on his body. Her jaw slackens slightly as she looks partially through his barrel at the red sand, immediately remembering that they are not actually together. I cannot touch him, she thinks sadly. Eyes falling as her wing droops, trying to hold herself from being too shaken.

She already knew Mauja was not here. This is not news. This is expected.

Their conversation becomes more serious, and Onni looks forward once more, listening carefully. He was trapped, unable to puzzle out the reasoning. The Frostheart had hardly been a friend of Onni. They were mere acquaintances, but here, standing in the desert that was her home, the tobiano felt as though they were close friends, speaking openly with one another. Kri would leave Mauja with no aid in whatever false Helovia he had landed in, but Onni could do no such thing. The healer did not have the resources to decipher where he was, nor how he got there, but the mare was fairly certain the Gods would. Nodding to herself, Onni decides that her next destination will be toward the Veins. Sitting passively by while Mauja was trapped was not an option.

Focused on her inner decision, the mare almost misses his description of the other Helovia. Glancing back over her shoulder once more, seeing no forest, Onni tries to imagine his world. The dark shapes in her vision, had they been trees? Smiling, the mare concedes defeat. "So I did walk through a tree," she says. Laughing, quite heartily, before looking back at him. "That must have been a shock." Her eyes look forward, toward what was an ocean for him, no smell of salt drifting to her nostrils. The sandy floor could easily have sat underneath a body of water, but whatever plague of heat befell the land would have discarded the seas as well as the trees. Knowing that if she walked straight long enough, the edge of the peninsula would be met, the healer nods. He was still in the Dragon's Throat. "The ocean is still a bit of a hike for me."

Mauja the Frostheart was not dead. He was just many centuries too early for their meeting today.

"I want to speak with the Gods," the mare says quite firmly before looking at him. "Perhaps they will know how to return you to our Helovia." The deities of this land were his only hope of returning, she felt. Onni could only believe that they would be able to rescue him.

O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

The shaman did not know Mauja well enough to gauge his emotions, but the smile which carved lines onto his face appeared sad, even if the resolution of his figure was blurred at best. It makes the lines of Onni's own eyes tilt in a melancholy light, helpless to aid him in anything more than company. How long had he been separated by this wall of a different world from the one he knew? Surely, the white stallion would be lonely without anyone except his bird to keep him company. She knew well enough that Lyhty was not the best company, for while he was pleasant and had a lovely singing voice, the songbird could not hold conversations with her like she and Mauja were experiencing right now. It saddened the mare to imagine being lonesome, for the painted girl was never far from company in the Throat. Her pleasant nature made Onni easy to get along with, even if she was a bit awkward at conversation.

The Frostheart, however, was left without this option. A bit selfish, but Onni was quite pleased that she was getting to know the statuesque figure that she had only briefly encountered before. He had appeared like the snow itself. Cold, distant, yet graceful and beautiful. The regalia of his form had kept the modest little healer away from probing his personality to carefully, remembering the time their small party had climbed the Veins to seek the guidance of the Gods. She had been the only in the party without a crown on her head, and this was more humbling than any one Leader would be on their own. Still, she had felt like the small acquaintanceship gathered from the interaction with the Ice King had been pleasant enough, even if it was strictly cordial. Now, he was more real than ever, despite the flickering edges of his body and the shadow of madness that crosses his face. In trying times, the grips of our masks slacken, given those nearest a glimpse under the exteriors we parade around.

A tad naive, but Onni believed that if Mauja was normal enough to grow anxious, mad with loneliness, and feel himself slipping, that he was not the cold monster her painted up in front of all. Mysterious and distant, but not here in her sky blue eyes as a shadow of a smile plays out on his features and he shrinks from her touch, though she cannot meet him. It is sorrowful, in its own right, to see him step away with lines of light chasing after his mirage of a figure, but the shaman is hardly offended. There was no ties between this odd pair, aside from their location.

Faces grow distant as Onni looks forward toward the edge of where the would be an ocean for the stallion, with no scent of salt tainting her nostrils, there was almost no way she could imagine his world. Closing her light eyes, the painted girl tries, foolishly hard, seeing the Endless Blue with Sparrow once more, but still not feeling the world that the Ice King stood in. She could almost hear the seagulls, feel the mists of the water, but it was gone in an instant when she opened her eyes instead to a crimson tide bathed in sunlight. Foolish girl, thinking she can easily slip through the barriers of time. It is not so. It has never been so. It never would be.

I would be grateful. Onni's eyes snap over to the unicorn's flawless face, even blurred upon the edges, a smile burst past the seams of her lips as she watches him in the sunlight, the blue of the sky reaching through his figure to smile back at her even if he would not. "It would be my pleasure," she says, a cheerful voice returned to her chime-like tones, half singing it to him. Lyhty chirps in response, a little trill of a song that matches her bell of a voice, the pair jolly as always. Perhaps, even if her touch could not reach him in this distant Helovia, the warmth of her smile could. To transmit an ounce of happiness would make her feel full, like a child praised by their mother. "If there is any way I can help you return, I will." She nods, turning her face back to look out at the red ocean with a smile. She would help and ask nothing in return.