Obsidian images swirled through the tender blades of summer grass and I moved closer to Ink as he began to voice his tale of “being” through long sweeping motions of paint. I watched, memorized by his ability to bring his visions to life; they were beautiful and he obviously possessed a practiced hand when it came to communicating through silence. Quietly, I watched as creatures came to life beneath his caring strokes. He claimed the stage by storm and I was certainly not one to interrupt whatever story seemed to be unfolding before me. I could remember the day that he had aided me in protecting the Edge from those ignorant beasts who thought it wise to invade so soon after we had suffered at the Basin’s hand in stealing Mirage from her throne. Ink was so clearly meant to be a wraith, but the look in his eyes spoke of a doubt that I could not explain. Perhaps I did not long to understand his troubles; they were his pains after all, and if he longed to share them then he would. I was not one to press for answers when they were not openly available.

I looked to Sulwyn as she too watched Ink painting the emerald grounds in a blackness that was not often seen here in the Edge. Both of them were curious creatures to me and for that, I admired them. I was glad to call them family because of who they were and how they lived. They were giving on most occasions such as these and I longed to be of such worth one day. When I noticed that Ink had finished his performance, I looked to him with a graveness that I had not known as of late. “Ink possesses a great talent, one that allows him to observe any and every private affair at will. This ability defines him as our Spectre and if becoming a Wraith is something that interests you, his guidance would help you immensely I believe.” There were many things that Sulwyn could learn from our leading Wraith and her curiosity made me believe that his position as such was of great importance to her. Without any more distraction, I motioned towards the dark stallion to allow him our attention to his heart’s content. I did not wish to step on his toes when his talents were questioned by those like Sulwyn. I wanted him to know that I was a friend when he needed one, if he ever needed one.

Glancing back at Hellena who had fallen quiet to our conversation, I decide that it was better to start wrapping things up where they were left to fray. “As for the Edge, it was not always ruled by our dear Dragonheart. The Quian was once a small band that lived in the Wilds before they invaded the Edge which was once inhabited by those now in the Basin. When they were conquered, Mirage was able to safely call the Edge her home and has done so ever since. As Hellena, has also summed up for you, there are many ranks in which you may specialize. Is there any one that you are particularly interested in?” I felt that Hellena had shared much of the knowledge that one needed to know when it came to living in the Edge, but I knew that there would always be questions about our existence and I only hoped that I could justify them as well as the natives to the Quian.

The growing storm seemed to be cresting the horizon now and I knew it would soon be upon us and so I motioned for us to seek shelter before it came. A strand of tall pines and oak stood off to the left and while I waited for their acceptance of my new terms, I looked into the graying clouds above, hoping for the summer rains to bring relief from the noon heat.