I am first made aware of the mare's presence by Arbutus, who alerts me with a high, piercing call that is reminiscent of every birdsong I've ever heard sung all at once. His beauty is all encompassing, his fire somehow a comfort even in the unforgivable heat of the Tallsun night. There is something about him that evokes a strong sense of love within me. His purity brings me regret as I recall the deaths of the creatures that hunted him, and in the light of his fire, I forget the death of my father for the first time since I have learned of it. It is a boon to have something else to keep my heart afloat and mend its tattered edges- a blessing from the God of Fire that I will never disrespect.

      And somehow I feel that the bond is mutual. I look to him and sense a sentience still untapped that draws him to me. I feel fear and distrust at the approach of the mare, and Arbutus' wings spread with a swiftness that insinuates he knows my emotion and understands my fear. I rest upon the ground, weak from the long walks in this unfamiliar land, and like a guardian he perches upon my shoulder, his flame stirring my mane but not singeing it in the slightest. As unthreatening as the mare before me seems, I've never been one to trust- not even a pegasus. I'm a unicorn myself, but only by birth. I connect to the sky and the fire more than I've ever felt the blessing of the water that stirs in the lakes and oceans of the earth. In flight I feel free, upon the earth I am overwhelmed by a feeling of imprisonment. Upon my shoulder, Arbutus shuffles his flaming feathers with irritation, as if imagining a life without the sky. Though I've yet to see him take flight, I understand his hesitance to stay grounded- there is nothing but treachery here. The sky... the sky is pure.

      The mare draws closer, but I do not rise. My hocks ache and my body is exhausted with the efforts and nervousness of watching Arbutus' egg, which now lays upon the ground in a pile of ash. She speaks sweetly, and when I would have normally backed away, Arbutus presses a crested head comfortingly against my cheek and gives me a confidence I've never before felt. With a slight nod I look up to the mare and answer her, my voice shockingly steady. "Evening," I reply, my voice still quieter than hers, but at least not hindered by a nervous stutter. She asks about Arbutus, inquiring if he is mine. The phoenix trills and spreads his wings joyously, as if pleased that he has been mentioned by another. "We are companions," I answer with a slight smile, turning to watch him as he preens himself, dropping golden, fiery feathers to the ground and letting them turn to ash. Curiously he pulls at the feather entwined in my mane, as if recognizing it as belonging to one of his own kin. It begins to burn slowly as my wings unfold to encompass him in their grip as they did when he was no more than an abandoned egg, and immediately he curls himself up among my flames, his eyes fluttering with the sheer exhaustion of being born. Affectionately I nudge him with my nose, but he is already at rest. "What might I call you?" I ask, surprising even myself with the forwardness of my words. Arbutus makes a soft sound akin to purring in his sleep, and I feel a sense of pride.

[[So excited to meet Cass, I've heard so much! I would love for her to join the throat if Cass would like to invite her there- her gateway thread is kind of slow.]]

      "A pleasure," comes the charming and confident answer from my lips. My strength rolls off the tongue and leaves behind a sweet taste; I cannot help but attribute the newfound stability to Arbutus, even as he sleeps upon my withers. "I am Tares, and this is Arbutus," I offer freely, nudging the little phoenix and causing the embers upon his back to leap up with a live flame. I can tell by the pattern of his fire that he is sleeping restlessly and that his mind is interrupted by dreams- the twitching of his wings is a giveaway. Slowly I turn my gaze from him to Cassiopeia, and nod my head downwards in an offer for her to join me upon the ground. Were it not for Arbutus' precariously balanced position I may have risen to greet her, for one with a heavy scent and such an air as she carried was likely to be respected, but I feared my exhaustion may have kept me grounded even still.

      She asks about my time in this land, which she names firmly as Helovia, and I am filled with sadness, memory, and regret. My gaze travels to the earth beneath me, where my long black beard and mane twist amongst the ash and dirt, and shine a slight orange in the reflecting light of the heart. "I arrived some time ago after the destruction of my old lands, but have only recently begun to settle in the wake of my father's death," I offer in response, my voice shaking slightly when I recall Voltaic's end and feel once more the fresh pain of not being at his side. I cannot look at the mare before me, the pain digs into me too deeply and with too much intensity for me to focus on anything else. Between my shoulders Arbutus shifts and lowers his flames to lick the base of my neck tenderly- even asleep I sense he understands my feelings. I cast a curious glance towards him and catch one black eye opened, but as soon as I make contact it shuts quickly, as if he would rather I think he was asleep at the time.

      I can't help it, the phoenix's antics bring a slight curl to the edge of my lips. My forelock falls over my saddened eyes, and by the time I blow it out of my vision with a huff of air through my flaring nostrils, my expression is one of apathy once more. Back to normal, then- not caring about anything for fear that caring will simply cause pain. But still, I must be sociable. I look up at the mare slowly, and my tone rises with a question. "Have you been here long? You smell of one of the herd lands I've passed in my journey through this land," I ask with a rising brow and a low, soft tone. I don't want to seem intrusive, but the curiosity I missed out on as a filly is catching up to me. Besides, maybe this mare can offer me a home not filled with bigoted, racist unicorns. What a blessing and a first that would be.

       As a general rule I shy away from the act of dwelling on what brings me pain, but the mare is shockingly considerate enough to extend her condolences for the death of my father. I begin to shy away from the idea of calling him father- I wonder if calling him by his name would help distance me from the pain. After all, I barely knew him anyway; why should I be so torn apart? And any moment when I consider my mother's likely death is one of relief, I feel odd treating the two so differently. Then again, they weren't hesitant to treat me in the same manner. It's funny how one's childhood shapes them for the rest of their life. It's strange that even after all this time, her touch leads me to shiver and hesitate- to back away in fear.

      I decide then, with a sense of firm obligation, that Arbutus shall life a life free of trouble for as long as I can maintain it. The peace we have now as we rest together is strong, and I know it has the potential to be unbreakable. I simply hope it doesn't fade with his fire or wane with my optimism. After all, this good mood isn't bound to last; they never do.

       Yet my eyes light up at the mare's mention of a prospective home, and I am not the only one that feels this spark of hope as an impetus to move forth. Upon my back, Arbutus' feathers ruffle and embers fly from his flaming form. His eyes open suddenly, and in seconds he is lifted from my back and, for the first time, taking wing. I watch him with pride and joy, even letting a rare upturn of my lips occur as his fiery wings cut through the air and his whistles sound out. I whinny lightly as if to laugh, and my tired legs lift my body up, to look over the mare who has settled down before me. My yellow gaze travels out into the distance, and briefly meets Arbutus' as he wheels around me with excitement. "It would be an honor to join your ranks, Cassiopeia," I answer with a slight nod. "Arbutus certainly seems thrilled with the idea," I add cheerfully as he at last settles to perch on my shoulder.

       I begin to fade away as my concentration focuses less on the mare before me and more on my future. My wings retract and the flame dies, and, sensing the calm that has washed over me, Arbutus, too, lowers his flames to a mere smoldering ember. My voice reduces to almost a whisper, and almost musingly I speak my thoughts aloud. I think, if possible, I would like to protect the herd in some way," I murmur, recalling my father's bravery and loyalty to the islands herd. Perhaps it is not too late to follow in his path.

       My vices are few and far between, but I won't deny the slight spark of pride I feel for my wings. Each time they are pointed out there is a warmth in my breath that I find a comfort, even if now it is simply a reminder of those gone. "The wings are mind to command, yes," I reply with an accommodating nod and an easy tone. "It belonged to an ancient phoenix," I begin, watching Arbutus preen at the mention of his own kind, "...but I received it from my father, Voltaic the Samurai." I speak slightly wistfully, remembering that moment on the beach of the tides when the gift was presented to me. So long ago... I was merely a filly at the time, hiding from my mother's abuse in plain sight. Keeping Lily's secret as she penetrated the Tides' source of information, longing for fleeting contact with my father even as he spent his days ruling over the Islands.

       I wonder if I was a bad child- if I deserved what my mother brought my way, or was simply born into tragedy. Arbutus seems to sense the distress brought upon by the memories, and I feel a slight pressure as his head presses the flesh at the base of my neck comfortingly. What good company he's proving to be.

      And then everything seems to happen at once, as the pegasus before me offers me a rank within the herd and the way home. My wings extend with hers, and I nod in reply to her remark. "Soldier... It will take getting used to, certainly," I whinny bemusedly to the dark mare as my hoofbeats begin to pound the earth by the heart. Beneath my cleft hooves dying grass crumbles, and at my side Arbutus whistles and wheedles as he catches the warm updrafts of my wings. I don't bother to answer the pegasus now, I simply take flight at her side, sighing with relief as the air lifts me and my aching legs no longer have to hold me up. Broad stretches of fire cut through the air and pull me upward with each downwards beat, and with precision borne of frequent practice, I find myself at Cassiopeia's side and flying towards my new home, a friend and companion at my side.

       Are you from Isilme?

      The questioned burns, freezes, and stings all at once. It leaves me feeling numb and emotional, defenseless and guarded. I want to say no- I want it not to be true, to not have had to see the sundering take place, to run from the shadows. I want to at least say I was, to proclaim that I am now unburdened by its haunts, but in actuality, I will always be from Isilme. From my mother's loins I'd burst forth into a world of shadow, and I'd never truly escape it.

      "Yes," I mutter in reply, my answer almost being lost in the wind. Arbutus flies closer to me, sensing my distress despite his penchant for growing distracted and his childish temperament. He shan't ask me questions I can't handle, I think. He'll protect me.

      I turn my head forward and beat my wings with more intensity, feeling the air ruffle through my fire and whip my mane across my gaze. "How far is the Throat?" I ask suddenly, changing the subject with a clear desire not to return to the previous one. My tail flew back behind me like a banner in the wind, but I longed to pull it closer, to wrap it around myself and hide once more from that awful and ugly truth.