Midas

War was not a pretty beast to behold. It bore gashing teeth and piercing horns, wings of steel and eyes full of discontent. No, it wasn’t an easy creature to gaze upon. Both sides felt righteous in their choice to battle, both felt justified with endless reasons so numerous that the stars above would seem easy to count. Survival had been at the top of the list for this particular fray, as it often was for others. Ktulu’s herd had to merge with a territory, or face starvation, and death in the coming winter. The wilds were no place for mare, stallion or foal. They were an unforgiving land, danger was always close at hand.

Since nobody was willing to share leadership, or step down. Battles sued as a result.

Basically it all summed up to one thing: Pride and survival.

None would have been cast out had their hearts swallowed the bitter taste of pride, but alas. We live in a world of lies, holding only a few close to breast in surrender. When Cera asked in that shaken concerned voice, "W-Where did all the herd members go?” I sighed and looked into those bright emeralds, pure as the white on my wings; yet still unstained with the act of battle. Truthfully I answered him, “They surrendered peacefully once the battle was won,” Soothing the wet fur along his shoulder I added as a measure for easement, “Only a few hardy warriors left the ranks, most remained under the protection of Foothills—under new leadership.”

________________________________________________________

Ilaria didn’t appear to like my question much, she hissed at it while Cera explained the reasons behind her dislike for our lake. After hearing both Ilarias and Finas defense I couldn’t help but mirror his giggles with a rich chuckle, glancing at those big caring eyes of his bonded through half-closed lids I murmured, “Fair enough.” My tethering soothed Fina as well, affectingly reminding her that my intent had only been to jest. She bristled a little and then did something that surprised. Her beaked opened, but instead of an angry or mournful stretch. The firechild sang. A delicate sound sprang from the heart of her being, much like that of a songbird, but the tone was more wild and passionate than that of a passive avian. She hummed for him, for a child that had driven its way into her little soul absent a mental bond to carry it. The little foal she protected day in and day out when my physical self couldn’t linger.

We kid around and fought as brother and sister, but she loved this family nearly as much as we instinctively loved each other. Cera had become her teacher over time, and she, a silent protector from heaven. Her song wanes, and finally dies. I turned back to Cera with a smile, already tuning in when my son speaks of his day. It was wonderful to witness light I had missed so much, his spirit finally returned. It seemed forever ago since the shadows of fear crept upon us doing the night. Not since after having visited the lord of Earth, who had breathed new life into me, teaching me how to be a better person. I followed the patched Cherub from the lake, water clinging to my sides making my flesh feel cool and refreshed.

His flying had begun to prefect itself, and obviously the lad had taken an interest in a future talent; but I couldn’t help but wonder—was his magic starting to develop? There was pride in his accomplishments, but also dread. My children were growing so fast, springing up right before my eyes. He would be a yearling soon, ready to enter our world and perhaps even leave the Throat. A thought that turned my stomach round with flops of discomfort.

“Sounds like a busy day,” I said quietly with just a hint of guilt creeping in. I had missed all of this, and more. My body paused on the bank, letting the last moisture slowly drip away, “Have you met with Coris yet?”. I asked after a moment, “He might be interested in hearing about your sketches---“ it was hard to not regret. I wasn't able to be part of the picture every moment.

your dying love is a rose I have buried somewhere close to you