Deep and thick the trees stood around him, towering giants in the place he had come to think of as Ancient Helovia. Empty of clones, alternate personalities and storylines, it was his sanctuary, and more and more often he found himself within it, but why he was not quite certain. Had he somehow found a pathway to it, located either in a physical realm or within his soul? Or was some capricious God being merciful all of a sudden? Or was he dying?

No, Irma's stalwart denial said. It was such a complete, thorough rejection of the notion that it was hard not to believe it. Whenever he wondered about his own state of life, she told him they were still alive — in no uncertain terms. And yet, if he doubted his own sanity.. why not doubt the sanity of his owl as well? Sighing, Mauja stared up at the clear blue sky, and the few drifting tendrils of thin clouds up high. If he had had wings.. if he could've flown.. would he have found the way back home? Would he have been able to soar into the stars? Better to yearn for what he had never had, than to fall into the trap of hope, though it was hard to deny that odd things happened.

As if anything in his life wasn't odd right now.

Lowering his head, the majestic stallion rubbed his cheek against his carpal, before moving on. Moist spring grass, lush earth and verdant mosses cushioned each of his frosted hooves when he stepped upon it, and aside from the trill of early birds and the occasional deer, he met no one he could truly converse with here. It was as if Helovia was stuck in a perpetual dawn, just awakened from an old, deep sleep.. waiting for life to come. So why was he here? Mauja snorted. If he knew the answer to that question, perhaps he wouldn't still be here.

Within a glade, an opening in the trees, the former King drifted to a halt again. Sunlight filtered down through budding, small leaves, and sparkled in the dew upon every leaf and spider's web. So untouched, so rich — it was beautiful in a way that tugged at his heart, in a way that he could understand... And it was better to just raise his head and close his eyes and drink in the sunlight, than think of the world he had been taken from.

Better to stand there and breathe, than know that yet again the boundary weakened and his shadow slipped into the real world, just a short distance from the newcomer mare.

( Basically she can see him, and he looks like a ghost - transparent, distant, sort of "dreamy". ^^ He's lost in time at the moment but at times he kind of.. "shows through" to the real world. xD so what he sees, is really not what she sees. >_>; as he's.. some place else, lmao. )

A sound, much like a radio signal messed up by static, broke his peaceful reverie. His ears rotated atop his head, but Irma gave no warning cry from the blue sky where she soared — nothing of deadly, physical nature was approaching, but things of deadly, physical nature seldom did a noise that grated so on his ears. It had almost sounded like a voice.. like something from a dream... Her curiosity pulled him closer, tugged at his world and her own, forcing them just a little closer... Coupled with the residual energy of so many souls passing through it worked, a rocky connection, but it was there — it suddenly felt as if the world shifted under his hooves and like someone smacked him on the head, but it left no lingering pain. Blinking in surprise he quickly scanned the surrounding forest, though Irma still gave no sign of danger. In fact, the only emotions rolling off her were content, warmth, love, and concentration. She was hunting, though, as always, kept an eye on every other thing that moved.

So either she didn't care, or she didn't see what he saw.

A dream-like whisper of her voice floated across the ages, more solid, with words he could make out, though he saw only the faintest shimmer of her shape. Swallowing the onset of panic, the desperate thunder of his heart, he tried to force himself to grow calm. This wasn't, after all, the first time. Heartbeat by heartbeat her shape grew, her more solid contours tracing the shape of a slim but strong body, filled in with hints of.. gray? Lavender? It was no one he had met in life (a wave of denial from Irma; she still insisted he wasn't dead), so he had no memory to help him fill in her colors, though he saw nothing to make him think her a Pegasus. "I think," he said from where he stood, something vaguely amused and philosophical in his voice. "That I am here." But I am not quite sure. He wasn't sure of anything these days, least of all where he was. He only knew where he wasn't, and he assumed she was there. In any case, if Onni had been real, then this mare, whoever she was, ought to be real too, but that was like founding a thesis on something that likely was a lie. Though, somewhere along the road, he had begun to nurture that black seed of hope, and now it was easier to just go along instead of fight it.

His mind quickly looped through the facts he knew, about his and her location. The Threshold. Chances were, she was a newcomer, but he had no real way of knowing — she was scentless. Just as he was not there, she was not here, yet somehow they were stuck somewhere in between.

"Who are you?" His voice carried like a whisper on the wind, steady despite his initial .. surprise. To call it panic would be truth, but he had mastered it, or just fallen through to another level of insanity where things such as these did not bother him. Which, he guessed, ought to be disturbing, but he had to admit it was easier to just take these things in a stride and shrug his shoulders than to get all worked up about it each time. Perhaps he was truly losing sense of himself, of where he ought to be? It was a saddening thought and for a moment his face fell, but a wave of comfort came in from Irma. He might be lost, but at least, he was not completely alone.

( <3 welll... they can speak, but he'll always be transparent and sort of "distant" to her, and generally, he sees less of her shape than she sees of his. touch would just go right through. just.. treat him like a ghost. XD )

She was cautious, but could he blame her? No — he'd probably act the same way if.. if.. something suddenly showed up and wasn't quite real. At least, he assumed he wasn't. Onni had treated him much like he was dead or something at first, or at least noticed something being off. Lowering his head somewhat he watched her through dark lashes, trying to seem as untroubled by his existence as possible, even though his heart kept hammering madly in his chest. What if.. what if... What if she was real? What if Onni had been real? What if the world still existed, just out of reach? It felt as if his heart kept shaking in his chest, his pulse a drum in his mind, as being pulled so close again tore open the wound in his mind. He did not want to be out here, alone, abandoned someplace in the whirl of time and space. When Irma's egg had been given him, he had known that he could not stay there despite his curiosity. Part of him had longed to explore that Steppe and the twisted tree, the mysterious owl, but whoever — whatever — had brought him there had known he would return. Out of love, of all things.

"My name is Vy." She had a soft voice, a soft tone, gentle and soothing — some wariness still held her back, and he wondered what he looked like. Did she see the darkness of doubts swallowing him, the desperation, frustration? Did she see the clash of hope and cynicism? He was stuck, wanting desperately to believe that there was a way back home, yet knowing that such thoughts were folly, madness. "I am Mauja," he responded to her query, his voice steady despite the staccato pace of his heart. For a moment he allowed his ears to fall back, and sighed. What was he, then? How could he tell her, when he didn't know himself? Giving his head a tilt he peered up into the sky, catching the flash of sunlight on white wings. She had been but a gray-feathered child when they had disappeared, and now she was fully fledged. She'd grown up in the land she came from; they had been separated by time, by accident somehow, yet he had not been under the impression they were to live here. If so, surely he would've been kept that day.

No. This was just some other trickery.

Slowly he allowed his gaze to fall, settling it on the hazy shape of Vy. He definitely didn't know her, didn't recognize her name. Mauja remembered most he met, though he wasn't sure how much of his memories from just before his departure had been obliterated by shock and stress. "I am.. a lost king," he finally said, and gave her another small smile; a simple curl of his lips, a flash of sunlight in his eyes. He was a creature of winter, but even the winter sun could warm.

She seemed quite calm, talking to a ghost (or herself?). It wasn't strange to him that Onni would accept it, as Onni had known him before, but a complete stranger? Slowly he looked down at himself, but of course, in his own world, his flesh was solid and his skin whole. Nothing of transparent souls and dimmed edges, not like she was to him. Cautiously he decided that she was strong-minded, to be mostly unfazed by talking to a specter. "So, Mauja, what are you looking for?" Was it the veils of mystery regarding a lost King which drew her in? The chance to return him, perhaps, or merely the adventure? Since she did not recognize him, surely she didn't know of his.. meager deeds but large following? Or of his defeat? "What are you here for?" The way back home, he thought bitterly, but didn't say it.

"This is Helovia's Threshold," he said after a moment, something thoughtful in his voice. "It's where the newcomers usually enter Helovia." Lifting his frosted hooves above the lush spring grass of his world he moved a little closer, his natural grace distorted by the rift between their worlds. Behind him, his tail flicked once before he drew to a halt again, peering at her as if he could somehow see her better just because he was nearer.

He couldn't, but that was slightly beside the point.

"I have come here a hundred times before, to give shelter to the unicorns in need, to walk these forests and look out for my kin — but where I am, this forest is empty, save for you and I." Slowly he tilted his head, the sunlight glittering in the frost upon his horn. This land should not be empty, devoid of the touch of the living horses as it was where he stood. "It is I who should ask what you want, what you seek." He chuckled lightly, glancing at the sky again, but Irma was further away, unseen to his eyes. Lowering his gaze again he tried to focus it upon her eyes, but it was hard when they were barely visible. "But, that's not the case, is it?" Giving his head a small shake, there was something light in his voice, but he knew that he was just pretending not see the demons. But her presence was a sanctuary for his sanity, a small light to keep the darkness at bay; he could remember himself, at least slightly, and forget the place he was in, and the weights dragging him down.

But what to answer her? He had rambled to buy himself time but not answer had been formulated in his mind, no truths to speak. No clever, twisted words, no wisdom to impart nor any joke to make, to make light of his own situation. He had nothing but the bare, gray truth: "I don't know why I came here today. I'm just wandering aimlessly, ever seeking the road back home and never finding it..." And there was a certain degree of blunt honesty in his words, a slight seriousness in the set of his face as he watched her, wondering what she would say. Would she offer her condolences on his lost self? Again, he gave his head a tilt, narrowing his eyes a fraction. "And what are you here for?"

He dared not touch her, even as she came closer, her dark head tilting closer invitingly. Mauja remained where he was, stoic and still, trying to study what he could of her hazy details. That was definitely a small horn upon her forehead, and was that a faint glow it cast? His eyes, still somewhat narrowed, zoned in on it, and after a moment he decided that, yes, it was a horn. A small one, but a horn all the same. Her question fell upon willing ears but a deaf mind; he had no answers for her. He did not know what she could do to help, if anything at all, except lessen his solitude for the moment. " A certain amount of freedom is even granted to criminals and you don't seem like a criminal to me." It was, actually, something he had not considered, either due to his assumption that no one really knew his heart, or to the slight vain arrogance which hounded his steps. Was this a punishment? Or was it an accident? If it was deliberate, whose fault was it? What was the purpose? Some part of him wanted to wander away into the forest and ponder until the sun went down and never rose again, but that would hardly be productive. Instead, he just wondered if he'd upset someone so thoroughly to get sent off to here — or if it was a tactical move, to remove him before a strike.

Was his herd still alive?
Or were they corpses strewn on a burnt, smoking field?

Slowly the mare sank down in a bow, elegantly bending towards the earth. That she would bow to a ghost — some part of him was bemused, that even as a specter he could elicit such a response in a stranger, but more so he felt uncomfortable. He was no King anymore, and had never been a King who demanded you to bow before him. Why had he even told her that — a lost King? It was nothing but a fairytale, a flimsy fancy upon his tongue. The truth was that he was a lost man, a man who had once been entrusted with the care of his people and since failed them. To call himself a lost King made him sound like something from a dream, the perfect, shining hero of a story, beloved and missed and doomed to wander the shadows due to some terrible mistake, or something. Mauja knew that reality was far harsher and crueler than so. Perhaps he was here for no reason at all, which would, perhaps, be the cruelest thing of all.

"You do not need to bow before me, Vy." His voice carried his faint amusement, hiding the darker parts with that slight warmth. "I am King of nothing now." So call me Mauja, damnit.

Some part of him wanted to cling to the notion that she could help him, that she could guide him back, but if Onni, vivid dreams, wandering feet and hope could not, how could she? Still, he would not put it past a stranger to be powerful, or kind, nor would he deny the help offered out of kindness, and mercy. To brush her off would be rude. "Perhaps," he hedged tentatively, looking at the old, untouched trees around him for a moment. Without the steady stream of horses through, the forest held a much lusher aura, and it was significantly harder to get around. "But I was honest when I said I have no idea how to get away from here. If I could tell you how to help me, I would, but I simply do not know." And who would have answers? The Gods? They governed the physical, fire and light, earth and water, darkness and wind; did they have the power to cause a mortal to transcend reality? His mind wandered north again, to the snowy steppes. "But, Vy, you could do me a favor of a different kind. Unless they have moved, my herd lives north of here, upon a vast tundra — you could find them, and.." He frowned for a moment, silent, before sighing and continuing. "Tell them of me, or something. Join them, help protect them in my stead. That is the only thing I can think of now."

( *hugs!* I love writing against new people. <3 and they're cool! )

Was it such an odd thing to ask of, for her to ease his mind? To help him know that they, his kin, were safe, and sound? If her silence was anything to go by, it was — concerned, he peered at her, wondering if maybe she'd lost of sight of him, his world, his voice. He could still see her, at least, but maybe it didn't go both ways? It frustrated him that he couldn't see her face, read her expressions, her eyes.. catch a glimpse of her thoughts, written in the lines, the set of her head. A shimmer and he thought she'd tilted it, and in his own world he frowned slightly, watching her ethereal form intently. Her voice, dream-like in its quality, carried through the ages — was that hesitation, or just his mind playing tricks? At least she sort of agreed, and he let out a quiet, barely visible, sigh. What had she expected, anyway? For him to lay a grand quest at her feet, ending in the glorious battle where she defeated a powerful demon, and freed him from his shackles? The notion made him smile, briefly and bitterly. If only he had the answers, he gladly would've shared them, but without even knowing why he was here, it was hard to figure out how to counter it. Day by day it got harder just to stay alive and somewhat sane.

She was persistent about helping him, to the point where it almost frustrated him, but he quenched it; she was just trying to help, to be good, do something noble and right. He had no reason, no need, to rain on her parade.. it was just, he didn't know. And if he didn't know, how could he possibly tell her?

Shimmering and translucent he swept forward, closing the distance between them, and lowered his head in a sudden, forceful arc. Muzzle and horn cut through hers, falling right through her incorporeal form, and where they intersected he felt cold, clammy, as if a ghost had touched him.

Maybe one had.

With a sorrowful darkness she probably couldn't see lingering around his eyes Mauja withdrew a step, returning the space of the living to her; he was but a shadow in her realm, had no place, no right. "We cannot touch. I don't know why I'm here, or where I am. I don't know what caused me to be here. I am at a complete loss. I will not reject your help, but I cannot tell you what to do, for I do not know." Mauja sighed, glancing at the sky. He had been able to walk a ways with Onni, but time ran out for everything, and if he walked with Vy they'd not get anywhere before he flickered out, lost contact, and disappeared. "I do appreciate that you want to help me, Vy, but I don't know what anyone can do about this..." He lowered his eyes for a moment; perhaps he had a cunning enemy, who had trapped him here, but who? Mirage had got what she wanted. Kri just wanted him to stay away, and he certainly did. Paladin — was he vindictive enough to want to wipe Mauja out, away, without having asked of his heart?

"If my lack of answers is not enough, ask the Gods. Ask Earth. He's the calmest of the three..." Mauja had a notion the Sun didn't like him, and the Moon was fickle, but Earth, Earth was steady. Perhaps he would know.

Perhaps I am too faithless.

[ no worries! ^^ life happens. and yup, she will! then we'll see when she actually comes toddling up to the Basin haha.. xP ]

He could feel it, all of a sudden; something like a chill gripping his heart, a fist closing around his throat.. a faint tremor in the ground, a deep, reverberating groan moving up his legs. A clock started to tick somewhere, a sense of urgency, like knowing you had a few minutes to say all the things you wanted before darkness took you. For a moment the breath hitched in his throat when he first felt it, his eyes widening a fraction before he swallowed and remembered how to breathe. In his chest, his heart sped up; he'd told her enough, hadn't he? About the north, brother Earth (brother? he'd have to wonder about his lunacy later), about... himself. Unless every memory of him had been wiped from the brains of all Helovians, she'd surely find someone who knew of him by name — or by rumor at least.

"Hey, so, I found this ghost of someone called Mauja, he's not a bad dude right?"
"Uhm.. he's the most hardcore racist we've had around for a while!"

It almost made him laugh, or sob, and his only consolation was that very few knew of his political views. Most would tell her he'd run an all-Unicorn herd. That he'd lost a war. That surely some of his followers were racist — that maybe he was. But he was polite and nice, so maybe he wasn't, maybe he was just having a sanctuary for those who felt more comfortable with their own kind. There were, after all, many other mixed herds to choose from.

"South," he replied almost immediately when she asked. Was he just being paranoid and imaging it, or was she really growing weaker, thinner, more distant and transparent? Had her voice sounded like it came from even further away? "A piece of blue volcanic rock juts out into the sea, it's called the Veins. Go there." It rose like the sea level in his lungs, in his mouth, a feeling of slowly being torn in two, peeled away from his own self, something he clung to; he could feel something like the world shattering, the melded worlds breaking apart again. "And I-" The ground trembled, a single quake, like ripples upon a lake when the wind was still — he could feel it spread, the faint shift in the air, in himself, as if a particularly large shiver had passed down his spine. Blinking, he saw no trace of her, no shimmer of her shape and the faint glow of her horn. Slowly his face fell, ears flicking back and eyes growing sad. To the empty forest, he finished the sentence in a defeated voice.

"- hope it will..."

[ figured this was a pretty neat way to end the thread. ^^ Mauja out! xP ]