If one had said a year ago that my heart was to be stricken over love, I would have gleefully laughed into the face of the fool that spoke. At the time I wouldn’t have thought such a thing to be true. This heart was dedicated to the lady of sand and blood; I was a warrior, a General. Yet. When I was alone with Ktulu, my thoughts were upon none of those things. Body became spry as if still a colt, I would nearly jump from my skin with anticipation every other night at the mere chance to see her. Half fear, half hope that she would return from a lofty position to mingle with a child belched from the throat of a dragon.

I patrolled the boarder, taking the night shift with hopes that work might keep my mind more occupied. But circling questions did not cease; nothing I did seemed to cure the heartache. Nothing could stop the waves of regret. Regret in not being by her side, and regret in hurting the one true soul that I held within reach. Perhaps I was the fool. For loving something that might forever be a forbidden fruit.

By the time our morning sun had graced the horizon I was no more or less depressed then before. No joy ignited my eyes when realization came that I would have to return home and allow Cera to see me in yet another somber state. Instead I banked off, traveling to the Meadow with high hopes that an extended flight would cool the head. Wings beat with little effort, I glided in on an orangemoon breeze. Thankful for a little time to just think and not have to worry about patrols, or prying eyes that sought to assure I was ever competent and aware of every little thing.

To escape. Even for just a few minutes.

Hooves touched the ground with ease and gentleness that barely broke the surface of earth. I landed dead center of the meadow, uptop a sloping mound of raised soil. The same mound that had taught Hototo and Cera the ways of flight for the first time. It would seem that the gods would have me given choice of company today. A pale creature stood off near the trickling brook that had widened during recent storms. Curiously I gazed the strangers way, wondering for a moment who it might be and debating upon leaving whoever it was alone.

Maybe it was instinct, or my own curiosity, but for some reason I didn’t want to simply leave whoever it was to their own demise. Quietly I started toward the distant figure that became more and more familiar with each step. Her body outlined by a rising sun and shadowed by trees that bore leaves of fire to signal another successful change of seasons. “Ophelia?” Small traces of shock and larger traces of concern fluttered to life. What was she doing? Granted it wasn't any of my business... Upon approach my bottomless pools rake over her body, taking notice of swelling sides that hinted upon a special blessing. Slowing I stepped quietly to the pale ladies right side, “Are you well?”

When she said, “I am coping.” I frowned, my eyes flickered to her soft form now enlarged swelling. Was it because of the baby that she appeared so let down? Ktulu hadn’t mentioned that her sister was pregnant, nor had she hinted upon a mate that had been dug up. At least we were both on the same page; or so I could assume, that it was romantic problems which caused Ophelia to seem depressed. I turned away politely, not saying anything more. I knew very little about the struggles of being with child, but one thing was certain—mares got hormonal around this time, and stallions were best seen and unheard. Or so I had gathered from lingering too long in their presence.

“You look unsettled.”

Closest ear flicked back a notch, one eye swiveled to glance at her with surprise. She had tenderness in those dual colored orbs, one that I had seen often when those took pity on what they saw. It was my turn to stiffen and frown, head swiveled back to her—a smile started to plaster itself across my facade but for some reason it faltered when she added, “What happened.”

Just like that. My matchbox self-fell apart, gaze drifted down and I didn’t try to fake smile. Push her pressings away for the sake of conversation. I needed someone to talk to about life struggles—someone who would understand. Was she that person? When asked a direct question I didn’t want to beat around the bush so my lips parted with truth ringing, “Ktulu asked me to come with her….to the Foothills,” I began with something simple, wondering if she would understand the hidden meaning, “I desire to give her everything, yet— I withhold myself when requested to join her company.”

It wasn’t just. Land. It was my land, my home, my family.

I had never spoken to Ophelia at length before; never sought her counsel, or that of others (save for my Lord). It was natural to doubt that she would truly understand my meanings of love for land, and perhaps I didn’t want her to comprehend the workings of this young male mind; maybe I just wanted to be heard. “My father experienced the same--,” her rolling voice wasn’t full of reprimanding words that would kick my hinny into gear as Kri might have—nor was she overly showy with whatever amount of pity that was being given. For both I was thankful. “He gave his life to our old home, and it was torn from him.” This last statement caused my heart to quicken a beat; just the idea of losing the desert to eager marauders made my nerves quiver at their ends. It seemed impossible, and Kri almost made us believe that losing our home was just that…an impossible dream…a dream that only jealous harbors could hold. We were too strong, too proud. Too proud.

“I have never experienced this tie to a land that has driven so many.” For the most part I had been avoiding her gaze—not out of shame or any amount of dread…Yet now I glanced up as she shared a small portion of her history. Offering some light to a dark spot that I still knew little of, even after having been with Ktulu for almost a full cycle. My pools softened and for a moment there was a brush of compassion for this wayward oracle of a woman. In a way, a distant way, Ophelia reminded me of my Ma.

Questions were given, and I stood slightly by and by. Listening, holding each word and spinning it in my mind a few times so that it might sink in more deeply. The realization of this whole conversation was what I had already known to be true; she only solidified it. I wasn’t going to abandon my home, not without having it beyond my grasp; my soul knew this, Ktulu knew this, even Ophelia seemed to know this. Why for heaven’s sake couldn’t I let this simple fact sink in? Barely was this tranquil soul able to hold onto the oaths of childhood and complete my duties as a Soldier, a protector; but to fight simply for the sake selfish gain?

The creature who might have agreed to this wasn’t in existence; what stood before the pale twin was a man of heart, a throbbing one that would do and give anything to see both of his families well cared for. I wasn’t someone who traded my vows for the sake of personal gains, it simply wasn’t who I was destined to be; nor was it someone that Ophelia struck me to be. My Lord had known this (as he knew all things), and had denied me the one opportunity that might had tainted me enough to give into Ktulu’s desires.

She ends with an apology, but it isn’t needed, and I shake my muzzle mildly back and forth a few times as if to tell her that it wasn’t necessary. My energy feels crestfallen, a solemn state settles in, “Your advice is welcomed, and I thank thee for taking a moment to listen and give wisdom.” Swallowing the bitter taste of disappointment I add with mournful tone, “I fear that this journey we undertake will lead only to heartache unless one of us gives into the other…though you are right to judge in the fact that I am unable to leave my home—I harbor no desire to sell my swords.” I am unable to leave my home period. Mostly to myself I murmur, “I do love her though…how do we go about a relationship that will be doomed for failure before it can even take wing?”