Roaming eyes could search all they liked; it was unlikely they would settle upon the shimmering, fuzzy image of the little shadow that stalked the Threshold. A golden ray of sunlight – or was it a dragon? – filtered through the canopy above, darting this way and that. It was indeed a dragon, a queenly one at that, golden as the sun’s surface, glittering brighter than a sparkling crystal. The creature was bonded to the shadow-mare, by a link than ran deeper than even the ties blood could offer, a bond that combined their very souls and minds.

The new presence of a winged spectacle was noticed, particularly by the dragon, who created a colourful trilling song as she flew above the starry maiden’s stance. Motions were made, a little ways away, by a dark smudge of a mare, it was difficult to know however – if one did manage to focus upon it for more than a second, they might think it was merely a trick of the sun’s heat, and continue on with their life. But it was a living, breathing creature who orchestrated this magic, this magic that defined her, just as her bond with her dragon did.

A smooth melody was hummed from the maw of the mistress, as she crept closer to the youthful femme. The shimmering veil fell away from her, and as she approached it was as if she were pulling herself directly from the shadows of the surrounding forest. The Threshold was a comfortable realm, for this mare enjoyed forests, but it was too close to the outskirts, too near to the part where Helovia became undefined and the wilds of the outside world more dominant over one’s existence. Warm, honey-gold eyes peered out from beneath silken tendrils of the charred mare’s forelock, a kind gaze held within them, though very little else was expressed by this devious little mare.

“Greetings.” The mare’s accented tones stated, and she bowed her sculpted tiara to the midnight and creme hued belle. Noting the purposeful way in which the mare carried herself, the mare tilted her tiara on a slight incline, showing her curiosity. “What brings you to Helovia?” The question was posed politely enough, a whisper of a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. The mare’s gaze roamed over the young belle, she was perhaps not that young, (but then everyone was young to Mirage), discovering the world for all it was worth. She stood upon the doorstep of a realm of opportunity, would she take the next step or would she trip at the doorway? Akaith glided easily down from the canopy now, alighting upon the obsidian one’s hide as delicately as a feather might land upon a pillow, her own swirling gem-like eyes drinking the sight before her for all it was worth.