Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

Being in authority meant more responsibility, a higher expectancy, and less free time. (A lot less.) These facts where felt most heavily by my son’s, Hototo and Cera. Maybe not so much Hototo; because he had his mom around—Cera on the otherhand was struggling through months of adolescence, and I simply couldn’t stand by him every waking moment. I couldn’t even begin to think of a recent time this season when I had simply put aside a day for their benefit.

My only recollection that appeared most vibrantly close is the evening we spent on the sparkling white beach during the last few weeks of Tallsun. That day had been filled with games of skytag, and seatoss—adults and cherubs had adored every moment. These memories where sometimes the only thing that warmed me on cold midnight patrols--remembering how peaceful everything was in a single moment. How easy it had been to simply soak in joy and surrender to the day.

Daylight had been swallowed by desert storms. The thirsty ground drank in all offerings, and the dusty creatures that occupied it lumbered around with wet fur and wet feathers. I knew that flooding would be a problem in the coming days, so I had been out surveying the damage our thunderstorms had/where in the process of causing.

It was important that none of our member got swept away by a flash flood— to aid in this, many of my soldiers were actually within the herd and not patrolling the boarders. Their job was to protect mares and foals that might get caught in a landslide. Ivory appendages pumped valiantly, the water proof slick was nature’s way of keeping my secondary feathers dry enough for flight to be possible. A light sprinkle could be managed, but not a typhoon. I couldn’t stay adrift in a downpour easily, or for very long.

After assuring that none of our group had ventured off and gotten themselves trapped, or worst killed, I banked for home. Even blinking rapidly couldn’t stop the slight sting of needles sharply piercing my eyelids and blurring my vision until it seemed that everything swam in a sea of liquid. The wind became finicky and long before I had come into the Oasis, my body was forced into a rather rough landing. Red mud squished beneath my golden daggers, and cantering legs kicked more across my undercarriage and all the way back to my thighs. The bend connecting feathers to muscles folded along my barrel, by now even secondary’s where sopping wet—the warmth flesh had collected while flying was instantly cooled when chilled wings closed shut.

I shivered but kept on running through the soft mud, my destination was within sight. Suddenly a shrill call rang through the rain, my ears which had been flattened to keep water from entering the soft holes suddenly perked up. Dripping head angled toward the vocal’s and before the sound had died my steps quickened into an all-out gallop. Water and dirt sloshed behind me. Though it didn’t sound like a danger call, I couldn’t take any chances in weather like this. Someone might be suck in a sinkhole.

She came into sight, I slowed in the downpour. Trails of water gliding down my muscles and mixing with caked mud. A warm fog of moisture crept from flared nostrils and with each inhale chest heaved. My eyes darted to the area between us/and around, “Are you alright Africa?” Pushing down the trail I headed for her side, muzzle extending to greet hers should she allow the gesture. It looked like she had been rummaging around as well.

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

She apologized. Why was she apologizing? I wondered. My nose hung in the air, closing the distance between us halfway. All that remained was for her to do the same, and show me by some sign that she was well. Instead, the lass shrank from me--embarrassed, afraid? I couldn’t tell which. The wet ivory mess of hair extending from my bottom gave a hearty pat against flanks, my gaze trailed past her dripping tri colored form. Instantly I did a scan of the immediate area around us, reading for hidden dangers or the possibility of one.

“Midas, I didn’t mean to trouble you. I guess I had nothing better to do, and shouldn’t have presumed you would be readily available.” A small amount of steam misted from my cooling sides that where now no longer warm. Feathers shifted to hold themselves tighter against the bulk of my barrel. Was that how she and the others felt? That I simply couldn’t take a moment from duties to have a word with one of my clansisters? My head rocks back and forth, lips curved downward in a slight frown. I raise my eyes again to lock into those gentle orbs I had come to know over the past few weeks, “Nay little sister, you have nothing to apologize for. I always try to make myself available to the family.”

There was nothing this heart throbbed more for; nothing was more important than family. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.” Both ears had remained perked forward against the onslaught of rain, her words slide them back a notch—though the movement shouldn’t be misunderstood, my mind was remembering how the painted Gypsy stud had treated my clanmate. Understanding that she needed closure, despite the fact that the very life she thanked might one day be given freely to assure that others would continue down this bitter trail we called ‘life’.
“You’re welcome, dear one.”

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

My response seemed to be just the release she needed to fall into a state of ease. Any concern I had been feeling for her uneasiness mostly vanished when that lean female posture softened. This of course aided to further simplify the air between us and didn’t give me cause to wonder when she broke eye contact to peer behind me. By now there surely isn’t a spot on either of us that is dry, and I can feel the cool air start to settle between the thick layers of water resistant fur. “I hope this rain clears soon.” I allow my lips to crack apart into a lopsided grin; the desert rarely saw showers such as these—and though we grumbled about the downpours now. We would be thankful for them come next budding season. Still, enough was sometimes enough. Water sops my hair, and makes it stick against a neck that has cooled enough to not be steaming anymore.

“I can’t imagine the desert is that thirsty.” I chuckle and say, “Our home has a relentless thirst,” considering now with that same boyish grin I add, “Best to drown yourself in it whilst you can, Frostfall will see these late showers chased away.” Then it would be cold, very very cold. She moves to bid me farewell, I can see the goodbye in her eyes right before her ashy muzzle comes to give a traditional parting. Just as quick as we met, she wanted us to part again—my face extends to scent her offering and press against that soft feminine warmth for a spare moment before withdrawing.

After a second of silence I propose with quiet tone,“There is a grand tree near the base of our lake, its branches are wide and forgiving. It would offer some amount of protection against this storm, would you like me to walk you to it?” True, our tropical shelter isn't far in the distance, and maybe I was just using it as an excuse to get a little more company time with her. But…like all creatures, I was lonely.

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

She could have turned me away, or made a polite excuse to bid us farewell and end it at that. I would have gone about my wet business, and she about hers. Instead, Africa nodded, acknowledging my offer—even seeming pleased that I had moved to extend that invitation. That same willingness was responded to with a delightful smile that was neither overly zest or totally tranquil; could she see the small burst of gratitude filter in? It softened desert hardened features to just relax a little, one could say that I almost looked my age when put even slightly at ease.

Stress could add wear to someone more than time ever dreamed of doing. Rearing three children, fighting for a large family, and maintaining a distant relationship could grow more than just a few white hairs in my black mane—oh, and trying to keep ones sanity while doing all of the above was a game in itself. “Out of the rain and cold we go then.” I replied humorously, turning from her to plow through the mucky mess that was our mushy, squishy home. Confident that Africa would be quick to follow I didn’t bother turning my head to see where she was; the sound of her body flexing and creaking through the slosh would be enough to gauge position.

I focused on the slippery path ahead, keeping a creeping but steady pace—(it wouldn’t have mattered if we went fast or not, considering both of us are already soaked to the bone). My da had taught me ‘that a warrior could just as easily fell himself when in a great hurry during a typhoon,’ he would laugh as if that single sentence was the funniest wisecrack ever uttered, and then he would add, ‘no need for foes when your sprawled out with all four corners in the mud.’ I might have smiled from having just remembered a little fond memory, but Africa spoke up, succeeding to capture my attention yet again. “I was in the Threshold recently.”

One ear swiveled back, I listened carefully for her soft tones over the drizzle. She gave information about the, ‘Assassins.’ Somehow their name was spreading across the country like an unchecked fire; my teeth ground down a little, though the look across my face would have been one of thoughtfulness. I nodded once when she suddenly articulated that her time was spent in the forest—I also couldn’t help but think that Africa was a rather useful soldier, despite her not being one by title. None of my other brethren had come forward with news regarding much of anything, a spare trespasser here and there…but for the most part they remained impassive it seemed—or else didn’t want to share information with their young General.

When the girl had finished I spoke above the rain, still walking on, “Aye, your mind is sharp—this information will be passed on to our Sultana’s; they will decide on how to handle those cut-throats, in the meantime,” my face turned, facing away from the blowing rain. I look back at Africa, finding her gaze and locking it with my own, “I pray dear friend, stay alert when you go out — the wild lands are dangerous and unforgiving.” Even to my ears those words sounded a lot like the braying of an overly concerned hen, “Though, I have no doubt that you will manage what the wild throws your way,” my last statement rang truth—one never learned their true abilities until they were pressed against a wall, and I had no doubt that she would eventually learn hers. Just as Cera would.

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

“I met Sohalia,” I didn’t know who this person was. Or even if she was part of our family. But I figured if the name held some importance, Africa would be quick to share the information with me in due time—so my first reaction was to not press but to grin patiently and wait. Sure enough restraint is rewarded within the next breath she takes, “She was so lovely, so kind.” I smiled and took a moment to sort through all the stacked files that consisted of names and faces—the end result is the same. Despite having my little friend explain that this ‘Sohalia’ had broken down our ranking system; I had somehow missed this women. Surely though, my eyes would recognize her face when given the chance? I would have seen Sohalia at the last herd gathering.

With approval and to show that I’m still listening through the endless drizzle I nod, and she continues to speak. Africa remembers the elder that attacked her, and my lips twitch—there are few people on this earth my soul truly disliked. Our gypsy friend was one of them. She expresses a desire to work; a trait that can be easily related too (considering most of my waking hours are spent completing various responsibilities.)

“I have no skills, no talents. My ambition is without direction…” Quietly and with a trademark fatherly tone I respond, “Everyone has talents little sister—they are simply in need of nourishment in order to be realized…perhaps you could train with the Soldiers, learn the ways of a recruit. I could surely keep you busy enough.” My tone is light, but the intent completely serious. If she didn’t want to mend, perhaps this little mare could learn to fight—though for a brief second I wondered if it was wise to train yet another pure soul for battle. Her spirit seemed so rich, not yet spoiled by hardships—even undeserving of life as a defender.

Didn’t the spotless ones deserve something more? What could we give them?
It was sometimes hard to remember that not all creatures were as fragile as I might make them out to be; but this mind had been reared in the old-fashioned manner—as much as this spirit would rather see her home and well…I knew that when destiny called, all would answer its cry. She would become whatever the Lord willed her to be, and any hidden gifts would be brought to the surface in the process.

“Sohalia also told me all about companions.”

As if on cue the wide branches of an ancient tree came into sight, its backdrop is misted by the downpour—almost completely invisible, had the space been clear we would see a familiar watering hole. Perched in one of the highest limbs sat a bird of fire. Her head had been tucked behind the leftmost portion of one blazing wing; she was taking an afternoon snooze when we approached drier ground beneath her resting spot. “Fina.” I murmured loud enough for her skyblue raptor gaze to turn to me. In response she chirped, and shook out her feathers with a sigh; one glance was enough, “You are all wet.” she uttered in soft broken speech that was full of accusing disgust; as if being wet was some fault of mine? There would be plenty of room for both of us to be at least 78% protected from the rain. "What would you like to know?" I turned to regard Africa with a genuine calm falling over my facade; an honest openness that is usually almost always reserved for family.

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

“Honestly,” she says, her voice is so soft to my ears that I have to strain so that she might be heard over the drizzle. “I don’t think my heart lies in violence.” My breath comes out as a soft sigh, and the air directly ahead fills with vaporizing mist. Though it was my duty to find and train warriors for threshing, I felt a small amount of relief. She wouldn’t have to live with dirty hoofs, stained by the blood of enemies and fools. Knowingly I turned my face toward her, no reproach or the like could be seen. Africa might not be a natural battle born, but over time it was certain that a slot for this lady would be handled forward; one way or another she would come across violence.

“….but” she adds hastily, and I could only grin all the wider at her attempts to somehow appease after turning my suggestion down. “I will try, and base my decision on experience.” Africa’s last statement was something I could approve of down to the deepest core of my being, nodding with approval I simply say, “So you will.” Still smiling I watch as she turns toward our fiery company, possibly thinking of a question. Fina is currently staring back at us with a sour expression, (or as sour as a bird can appear.)

“I was wondering how you and Fina met; how you knew…”

The tale of how we met? Fina turns her creamy beak to me; clicking once, then falling silent as if she too wanted to hear this story. I frowned a little, but with a good natured tone and a shrug added, “I’m not the best story teller…” drifting off, my mind slips back for a moment. Back to that day in the Heavenly Field. After a second, I start to speak, “We met toward the end of our last Frostfall; the flowers hadn’t dared lift their heads out of fear that a rouge frost might come. But, the air was warmer and sky glorious to behold.”

My tone wavers a little, nervously I shift my weight to the right—leaning away from Africa. “She was an egg when I found her perched on the edge of an unstable cliff by fate…or ill luck…I didn’t know which. Others came to lend their aid of course, I among them.” I’m pleased by how my voice naturally starts to even out and grow pleasantly smooth as the story progresses, “We combined our efforts to rescue the egg and then worked to keep it warm.” Honeyed eyes trail up, gazing into the endless blue predator pupils that had my lips locked, “The gods favored my efforts above the others that day; blessing me with her egg by announcing my claim so that all would know that she was mine, and I hers.”

Cranium lowers and I turn to look at Africa, “She hatched shortly after; hungry and rather demanding.” Fina chirps loudly, offended that I would even brooch such a topic, “I’m never demanding,” she hisses and I grin but give her no quarter of my attention, “We hadn’t bonded before...while she was still an egg; but after we looked at each other, it was…” voice trails off, struggling to find the right set of words, “It was as if…our minds opened…we could feel each other; not so much in a physical way; but spiritually, with our souls.”

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

Story telling was something that grew with age, like the primary feathers of newborn Pegasus. I ended my brief summary, (one could hardly call my rambling a story) with a soft sigh and a proud grin that was altogether pleasantly relaxed. She didn’t seem to think my telling’s were silly, nor was my manner of speaking—though I spoke in the high tongue as mother had often called it. Talking without slang, instead, my lips dripped with honey—gilded and smooth. Perhaps one day I would really be able to weave a tale. “Wow…” she finally said after sharing a gaze with my bonded child. I followed those eyes until they came to rest on red plumage and smiled gently before turning back. “Your story was more wonderful than I imagined. I can only hope my destiny holds such a bond as your Midas—but what will be, will be I suppose.”

A humorous chuckle whelps from the hot pits of my chest, it wasn’t that I found her expression funny; I simply agreed. The sound passes my lips richly but with kindness and not jest, “There will be rain if our lord wills it so.” I added with another misty chortle. It didn’t seem possible that this sweet child wouldn’t find whatever her heart desired; indeed she seemed to have all the qualities that would make a good strong bond. Kindness, a pure heart, a brave heart.

“Who knows what the future holds!” Indeed, I thought. Who really knew?

Fina peered at us for a moment longer, finding our conversation less and less interesting now that the subject had been turned away from her being the center of attention. She spread her wings and took flight, just as the last drip drops of rain fell from a sky that still seemed rather darkly full of it. The air crackled and hissed as the fire on her wings evaporated the moisture instantly, she didn’t seem bothered by this—and I received a lovely image of a mutilated snake that would explain her motives of entering the drizzle. Fina was going to hunt.

I watch my other half fly away, and that is when I feel a hot breath at my shoulder. The velvet whiskers of her muzzle tickle my flesh, warming the spots that had cooled only moments ago—my lips retain their gentle expression and turn to her just as she pulls away, “Perhaps the cloud’s have no more tears.” Glancing up at the dissipating clouds with one cocked eye, but still regarding her as fully as I might, I add with a bit of guarded reserve, “They weep for a swiftly coming winter.” For the first time in a long time, I was feeling…very happy about simply being beneath this tree, and sharing airspace with a clan sister. “Thank you Africa…for humoring my presence,” I half smile and the tips that are turned up seemed to be more apologetic than anything, “It gets lonely; being busy all the time…”

Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

If she only knew how much of my life actually revolved around work. Endless work. They relied on me, and my superiors to be strong when they felt weak, shine a guiding light when there was none; fight when all wanted to bow before suppressors. Yes, my title held a good deal of pride; yet I boasted none of it. My children where the sons and daughters of golden sand; my eldest son would be the closest to that symbol. Perhaps one faraway day, Africa would understand. I gave up my small personal family for the much larger picture. A sacrifice that was often frowned upon by many, more so by those that were called to sacrifice their mates going to war, and fathers into battle—yet, don’t all men of honor do as the ties of fate bid?

The answer was yes.

She frowned a little, and I look away…knowing that those words had made her uncomfortable, but I couldn’t regret saying them. “You don’t have to thank me.” It doesn’t take eyes to know that her features had softened into a smile again; the tone said everything and her next sentence warmed me further, “I always enjoy your company.” Golden pools surfaced from their lowered position, and I gazed into those opposite feminine eyes with content satisfaction, “You’ll have more of my company should your title harbor anything to do with soldiers,” I teased and hints of laugher filtered across my face, though no rumbling chuckles came forth “—you might not enjoy it then.” It was a joke mostly, but one spoken true.

Knowing that our time was coming to an end, my soul could already feel the tugs of border patrol beckoning me like a far of signal that only a warrior could hear. Softly I add, “If you every need anything Africa simply call for me; I’m often not far off.” A promise that was well spoken; I didn’t make vows lightly, “It’s time that our boarders are checked, be well sister,”and with that I dipped my head respectfully while stepping out from under the shadowing tree. Wings unfurled to halfmast slowly, primary caught the few drops that still fell from our dark sky but the main downpour had ceased. Since they are wet and heavy I have to run forward on the sloshing ground with each beating heavily. After a moment the ground slips away and I’m airborn.

OOC: Midas exits