The presence of another came upon us. My head turns a fraction of an inch, one eye peering to gauge who decided to join our pleasant duo. A man, colored the same as…as my lady and her sister? Brows shifted down until they very nearly furrowed deep within my forehead which would surely cause a wrinkle across my much younger (but still stressed face). Time had etched early worry lines across this façade, it wouldn’t hurt to add a few more folds in this moment. It wasn’t confusion that led to this, but withheld curiosity.

“I mirror you sentiments.” He nods to me and my head falls forward in a show of deference. Ivory painted limbs shuffle back a step to make room for his taller frame. It would seem that Mauja was out making friends, the crimson warmblood turned to him and uttered a question that verified my own personal query.

Gaze rose, my pools casting their light toward the ice king. “I am a friend of Ophelia’s.” Really? Not that I had ever asked, but she had never mentioned it, “Tinek sought me out to ask my help, but I was too late.” Help? (I really had to stop adding single word questions in my mind.) It was unusual that Ophelia would send her dragon to ask for help amid a battle; considering they Grey had outnumbered the foothills. Actually they the residents had been so outnumber myself, Apollo, and Kri all got the privilege of attacking a single draft fool who didn’t even smell of the herd he claimed to have been fighting for.

Lip pursed but my voice remains soft, “The battle was won without need for even my family to be among the ranks.” That little fray had been a huge disappointment to everyone; but in the end the victor had won a home; which in itself was a huge step forward. My temptress would be protected. Turning to the older male I added, “Its good to finally meet the father of such brilliant girls--I am Midas.” Now that I thought about it. I hadn’t ever introduced myself to Majua either, nor he too I. The reason his name was familiar to me was because once it had been on every tongue. Some with more distaste than others. Well—now he knew.

This elder unicorn; who bore such resemblance to my fair lady--wasn’t someone I planned on ever crossing, ‘at least not in a bad way.’ In those bright blood pools sparked an understanding and intelligence that came from having lived a long and full life. Any show of disrespect would be a dishonor to my family name in the presence of this mighty warlord. Very few warriors actually made it to be called, ‘elder.’ I had seen only a hoof-full, and only in the largest of clans.

He answers my statement readily, and openly. I’m grateful for his, ‘to the point,’ nature. No tricks, no traps. I listen keenly, my eyes only falling from his gaze when I realized just how pitiful my musings over the battle had been. They had called us on the eve of expecting more fighters to actually fight, it was strategy to bulk their numbers and ensure victory. Of course…. Softly I reply, “Aye Sir.” It was hard not to feel wet behind the ears when standing in the presence of two battle hardened men. Their ways of war were still being learned, hard learned now that I had no mentor to train with. Without realizing it at first, my shoulders sagged, heavy with weighted thoughts. I relied on Sultana’s to fill in the gap of missing knowledge only brought about by youth- but more often than not they were busy with herd matters, and I with training Soldiers.

There is a return of my greeting, and then a question. The father inquired as to how I knew his daughters—slowly I lift my eyes to stare into his wise gaze, “They both lived in my homeland for a time—I knew them as my clan-sisters.“ They are my family. I wanted to say more, talk to him, and ask his permission to actually court Ktulu as my father had taught me to do. Yet…it felt awkward to express certain matters with the Ice King so close.

I sealed my tongue, the time would come as all things did for matters of the heart and proper eloquence. There would be water if the Lord willed it so. During the next few moments I merely listen to the two elder stallions discuss Paladin’s alabaster daughter, ‘Ophelia.’ Quietly I steal a glance across to Mauja, his gaze is chilling to look at—though I do not find reason to flinch away. They are particular to that of another unicorn, Apollo, yet it held not the gentle kindness of my healing friend. No. Those eyes bore something different, yet, perhaps not something wholly bad. I had seen his touch grow gentle, and posture soften—when helping others.

Where we really different?

“As you both know, I am Mauja.”

It was the first I had heard his name given life from those pale lips. Almost instantly I can feel one corner of my lip flick up, and the endless gold of my eyes soften just a little.

When Paladin apologized for not expressing his title I couldn’t help but frown a little, though a downturned lip didn’t stop my well-trained muzzle from dipping to further acknowledge his namesake as a respectful stallion should. It felt strange though…hearing an apology from this elder and stranger still knowing that he assumed I knew--(perhaps his name was like Mauja’s, something I should have learned a while ago.) Shame on me for not knowing…

Where lines of age didn’t run along his ebony coat; time had etched permanent effects in those calculating eyes that were both precise and holding unexpected marvels of calibration. All in this party knew that his generosity wasn’t necessary; nor was the gift of polite amusement. However, both of them continued to be just as gracious all the same. My interest was piqued when Paladin spoke of a long history and even other homes.

Could he see how my eyes suddenly sprang to life with a new fire, birthed from the loons of a genuine spirit of interest? I was a greenhorn again on this subject; though perhaps not alone in its raw truth. Like my parents, I hadn’t traveled beyond the sea-- nor over the Northern Mountains. Therefor I knew nothing of what lay beyond; someday, I mused. Someday I just might find out.

The conversation was closing, and I could see their expressions somber up. Still curious about his linage I ask Paladin in an attempt to refresh the mood, “From what land did you hail?” I wanted to ramble more out, like a foolish yearling still suckling up his granddames stories, “What lies beyond the borders of Helovia, would you tell me?” Yet choosing to ask one question at a time seemed to be the wiser path for traveling; besides, it wasn’t my nature to push for more than one was willing to offer. Not harboring the desire to leave Mauja out in the conversation I added with the hints of a smile touching my golden streaked face, “I also would warrant that you would be the one to ask about the northern parts; forgive my curiosity, but can you tell me what lies beyond the icy capped mountains?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that following my question Paladin’s face grows harder, age lines draw up tight until he appeared almost uncomfortable. Uncomfortable remembering...the past? I frown a little, the excitement previously felt was drying out—perhaps I shouldn’t have asked? Still slightly curious (as was my nature) and a bit hopeful of what might be a positive answer I stand by, waiting for either him to chaste my pondering, or reward it with tidbits of information that might shine light upon the dark places. Majua responses exactly the opposite, eyebrows rose with a touch of humor lighting his normally cloaked ice pools. I glance at him, half wondering what he had found amusing.

“My birthplace is naught but fire and ash by now, destroyed by selfish desire and war,” the slight frown that has curved my more naturally upturned lips, deepened harshly down. I withheld my voice, but the tips of both ears flicked back a notch, sympathetic for his loss. Though he didn’t seem to be very crestfallen; the statement was more of a ‘fact,’ not a bribe for pity. Even at my tender age I was wise enough to know that a warrior of their caliber would have little room for emotions such as pity, still…it was hard for me (a caring creature) to not feel compassionate.

He turns to Mauja and addresses the Ice King with a suggestion, a suggestion that Mauja responds with assuring vocal, “I will.” Psyche. I knew the woman through word of mouth, yet, had never seen her face up close. Probably for the better of us both. Gossip reigned supreme, Kri didn’t favor the girl—and if memory serves, they recently fought. "However,” my gaze had wandered in the spare seconds that he had been looking away, now, they flashed back, “I hail from a land south of here and slightly to the east - a place called Anarore to some and Isilme to others. I ruled on the Moonlit Tides, and that was where I called home. My heart still lives on that beach, somedays...." Anarore? Isilme? My mind hums, I don’t recall either sire or dame ever mentioning such lands. Paladins tone softens before fading away, and I knew…he was remembering something fondly, and it wasn’t about war.

My frown dissipates ever slightly, and warmth returns to both watchful orbs.
“A foolish feeling, perhaps.” Feeling this to be false I rock my head from side to side, wanting to interject, “Nay friend, it isn’t foolish to me.” There was something sweetly beautiful about the peace that would quell from the deepest of depths when remembering something such as the love of a home. For some it wasn’t land, but the act of finding your soul mate; or even a trustworthy friend. Others filled their inner desire to be happy with children. “Shades, vile creatures of the night with no soul but to kill over ran the land. Few of us escaped. I thought I had lost my family in the process, so I stayed as long as I could. Now, I am here…” He had escaped from ‘Shades?
’
Monsters? I wondered, could these be the same creatures that Cera spoke of? Surely not, because our demons seemed to have souls. For a moment I was tempted to ask the blood laced one if these ‘Shades’ bore the faces of our friends and enemies. Again, wisdom held my tongue to hold those cards for a later round.

The conversation turns to my second question, and again I file away another unusual name—Vanthra. A mind couldn’t grow without knowledge, and it was often the one who grew much also knew much. Majua exclaims that he has no information about this ‘Vanthra’ either. I meet his gaze willingly, and listen. “The icy ocean, and..snow.” Of course. Still. It sounds…inspiring, just another thing to add onto a growing bucket list of places to visit before I died. “It is a vast place, and merciless. Winter does not leave room for weakness or mistakes.” This statement touches me, my lips curve up into that trademark beam; and the maturity of my forefather shines through. The desert also quartered little room for mortal error, if not for the blessings of our lords—we would surely die.

“I think…I would like to pay the Sea of Ice a visit one day. See its rising peaks and empires with these eyes, before I pass on…” Solidly my voice slips into the quiet before rising again, this time pointed toward Paladin, “I am sorry for the loss of your former home, and will pray that you find peace while staying in Helovia.” My muzzle dips respectfully, and then levels. I’m reminded that there is another who grieves for his homeland...though its base fault is not that of monster; simply rotten life. “If I could return your land…would it mend all that was broken in this world?”

Perhaps there was a quiet world for us all beyond the ice caps. The world's hidden secret. Was it really just a foal’s daydream to desire something such as…peace? A balance that didn’t involve the pain, destruction, and torment of other souls. Could we not all live in some semblance of tranquility? All those questions; yet to each I know the answer plainly. It was simple, clearcut, straightforward. No. When we died there is a promise for rest—but beyond that, welcome to the harsh climate stern lessoned Helovia. She was our breath, and throbbing heartbeat. Also a curse, because her inhabitants would never coexist on one landmass without war. I smile to myself with bitter humor, knowing full well that my wishes, are naïve.

Mauja spoke next, expressing his own condolences in a manner that seemed more forgiving than moments ago. I remained impassive, quietly listening until he said, “If you reach out, some things may come back to you." My frame stiffens visibly; I force it to relax as if nothing had happened, hoping they didn't notice the change. A family went through my mind, Cera, Ktulu, Hototo. How many times had duty come before their needs? How long before I lost them? Softly, like the snow that fell during Frostfall I utter, “Does it ever get easier? As you age, balancing your life with family—and comrades with vows?” Maybe it was the lack of male upbringing that lead to this tender question, perhaps it was because I saw them both as wiser figures—whichever it was I glanced up at Paladin with an unflinching stare and then shift my golden pools to Mauja.