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"I am sure that if we are patient, Myrddin will offer his wisdom.”
The Dark Empress Psyche appeared beside Larkspur and the youngling, into the cave of the Haruspex with steps undaunted and confidence befitting that of a leader, and though the midnight blue mare was not troubled by the commotion set before her, the Lady of the Basin’s words were reassuring none the less. Would the Haruspex be able to enlighten them on this quandary with his ancient wisdoms, or was this of some power even greater than he? Captivated by the unknown, the mare watched in unwavering fascination as the old stallion, white as snow, continued to bow before the fractured mirror. Her tasseled tail flicked over the rocky breadth of the cave floor, betraying her idle agitation. The cerulean unicorn stretched her neck to the side, head turned quizzically to try and retrieve a better vantage point of the situation unfolding before her. Bodies filled the cavern, the gentle harmonized whoosh of breathing coupled with the shuffling of hooves sounded like a symphony of life as their echoes bounced off the stone walls around them. Though life and nature outside the mountainous stronghold they stood within was in the midst of Birdsong’s warmth, winter seemed to linger here. It came yawning and crawling out at them from the gaping hole within the mirror as it laid split against the wall, cool fingers skulking across her skin. There was something dark that saturated the atmosphere around them, pressing and heavy, and she could feel the weight of it as if it absolved to hold down her soul. With each passing second the haunting, cosmic feeling seemed to amplify itself, fortified by her own ignorant mystification as she continued to stare unknowingly into the abyss of the mirror's fractured, shadowed depths, hopelessly searching for what remained hidden.
That is when he appeared.
From the fissure a white figure rose, translucency giving way to a solid form, and from the shadowed void a frost while stallion with eyes like ice broke through the endless darkness, a radiant light against what had been an impenetrable gloom, a great snowy owl swooping into the cavern with him as if to announce his coming. For all her bravery and courage, Larkspur could not help but shy backwards at the apparition, gilded eyes wide with shock beneath the tangled mess of her ebony forelock, glowing with disbelief, blinking rapidly in an attempt to make sure that she was in fact awake to see this unfolding . It was only the arrival of Lena at her side that kept the warrior from fleeing, for when Larkspur glanced toward the bay mare at her shoulder she could find no hint of fear, no terror or alarm in her friend’s honey-amber eyes. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Lena looked upon this stranger with nothing but serene, unmistakable joy, as if she were experiencing a dream come true. The light of whimsy, of wishes granted and shattered hopes healed, shone out the russet unicorns warm eyes with radiance incomparable.
“Mauja?”
Sweet Lena, with a voice just as warm and inviting as a Birdsong sun. Larkspur watched in weary trepidation as her friend drew closer to the stallion as he spoke with the Haruspex, cringing as she reached out to touch the ivory and mottled coat, the fine silken hair of his mane the same color as freshly fallen snow. She had half the mind to stop Lena from moving toward him, to pull her back into the safety of those gathered, instinct driving the midnight mare to protect the one person that mattered to her amongst this gathering of strangers and insignificants. Lena does not stay within the circle of the frost stallion’s aura long though, and soon she is returned to Larkspur’s side. In an uncharacteristic gesture of fondness the warrior reached out to the sienna tainted shoulder of her sister, plush muzzle bumping it gently, though no words are spoken. Though the worry is uncalled for and misplaced, Larkspur cannot help herself. Too many times she had lost things dear to her because she did not take care or caution to protect them, she would be damned and condemned to a lifetime of indescribable misery if she were to let it happen again.
“Have you come back to us?”
Again Lena’s lyrical voice, like the soft trill of songbirds at the early break of dawn, breaches the lifeless cold of the cavern, bringing warmth to the frozen, stagnant darkness that still lingered in the air. Confusion; it rested in quiet contemplation across the cerulean unicorn’s face, dancing like shadows against the golden backdrop of her unwavering gaze. What did it all mean? Where had he been, if this was his return? The others gathered here, except perhaps the manic, nervous stallion who had led her here in the first place, also seemed to hold some sort of recognition of the stranger who had stepped through the mirror. Again Larkspur looked to Lena, questioning, wondering, and trying to piece together the puzzle from what little information she had gleaned from the last few minutes of being in his presence. In her days spent in solitude within the Basin’s mountainous walls, Larkspur had not heard the stories or whispers of how Mauja had been swallowed by time’s eternity, she did not know of his accomplishments and his victories before the fall of the Edge, or the legend behind his title, the triumphs of legacy. To the sullen, brooding nymph that loomed threatningly beside Lena in stony faced incredulity, he was nothing more than a ghost conjured up out of the darkness.
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