In Isra's swift landing, bogged down only by the emotions that fluttered around in her uneasy breast, her vermillion eyes missed the familiar sight of Zaffre. Her mother's dearest companion, and a benefactor that had aided Israfel herself when she was but a tiny filly... The warbled, chirrup caught her attention, however, and the pale goddess's emotion filled eyes turned upon the blue dragon. With the sight of Zaffre, Isra stretched her muzzle out towards him, desperate for a familiar touch. Zaffre, like her mother and Kimber, were constant. They would always remain, present to listen to her troubles... Or so, at least, Israfel hoped.

"Zaffre," she replied, her voice barely higher than that of a whisper. It was a greeting and a plea for assistance wrapped in one simple word, but she hoped that the dragon understood. While they didn't share the same sacred bond that Smoke did, surely they had some kind of bond between them. Surely, as one of her sole caretakers of her youth, he could sense that she was deeply troubled. "... My mother? Is she about?"

But, as it seemed, Zaffre was looking out for her once more, for not long after the question left her lips did Smoke's voice dance through the air, familiar and warm. Ears snapped to attention, and the young demi-goddess' head turned towards the sound. Her eyes met those of her mother's, and with one step of her golden hoof did she approach. Smoke did the same, and Israfel practically melted at the feeling of her mother's muzzle against her cheek, then going past to caress her neck. A mother's touch could never be forgotten, and despite their time apart, Israfel would never forget the gentle caresses that came from Smoke the Wild Rose.

Israfel, swallowing thickly to hopefully rid her voice of the cumbersome tremble, lifted her head and moved to rub her cheek against her mother's neck, briefly spotting the mark of the Sun that rested upon the exposed hide. The mark of her conception, it seemed...

"Mother," she murmured softly, uncertain as where to start, "... I went to Father's shrine, in the Veins. I wanted to speak with him..." Where once pride would have laced every syllable, humility and sadness replaced it. Perhaps yesterday, she would have told the tale with vigor and spunk, but for now... No. Only humility remained. "But he did not come. Instead, the God of the Spark arrived, and he showed me the most vile of things."

Israfel pulled away from her mother then, hazy orange eyes dropping to the ground, the golden points of her hooves shuffling in a blatant display of uncertainty. Should she tell, of the vision that she was given? "I saw a vision, mother... Of myself, being torn apart, limb by limb, by this unspeakable beast. The God of the Spark, he told me that, that I was feared and loathed, hated, because I was my father's daughter." Here, the pale princess' eyes looked back up to her mother, misery shining in the vermillion depths. "I do not know what he meant, mother... And I just feel so confused. He said that if I remained on the path that I am on, I will meet my fate at the talons of that terrible beast."

A shaky inhale was followed by a slow exhale, as Isra valiantly tried to rein in her emotions. "... I wanted to ask your input on all of this, because... I just don't know what to do."

Sorrowful vermillion eyes rested upon the familiar features of her mother, watching quietly as Zaffre made the lithe transition between the boughs of the trees, to Smoke's neck, then to his final resting perch of her shoulders. Idly, Israfel raised one gold-hued wing to brush her shoulder joint against the dragon's scaly hide. It was a brush of affection, of thanks, for comfort of those that she knew and loved was all that she truly needed.

Allowing her wing to rest closely to her barell once more, Israfel continued to watch Smoke's expression. The Wild Rose was clearly troubled by her words, and took a moment to debate over how she should answer... But what came from her mother's knowledge wasn't quite what Israfel had expected.

'There is a truth to his words, my dear.' Israfel almost felt sick. There was? Had her father truly done such horrific things that his actions would be held against those of his only daughter? Before her thoughts could wander, Smoke was quick to reassure that none in the World's Edge felt such hate and detest towards her. It lessened the sickening feeling, the weight of the rocks that had suddenly dropped into her gut as if they were falling from the tops of a high cliff. Yet, outside of the Edge... Were there some who loathed her name? If she met them, would they look upon the young demi-goddess with loathing and contempt?

While the thought nestled a fear in the back of Israfel's mind, it also brought forth more questions, but those would be reserved for another time. For now, she listened as Smoke continued on, not wanting to interrupt her mother in a confused stupor when the mare admitted to knowing the beast that she had seen in her vision. Still, the golden yearling's ears perked forward in alarm, crisp orange eyes widening only minutely. She did...? Had Smoke seen that very creature before? And she had survived?

Eventually, both Israfel and Smoke fell side by side, the dark grulla moving to stand beside her pale contrast of a daughter. The demi-god turned her head towards her mother, feeling the comforting touch of Smoke's muzzle upon her ivory neck, and with a trembling breath Israfel gave a dip of her head in a nod.

'Ask.'

"I would like to know," she murmured softly, as if speaking much louder would disturb the world around them. Her mind drifted to the Veins, when the Time God had frozen the world with his power. It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring all in one. "Please, mother, tell me? Tell me what my father has done to warrant such hatred and fear from his people, and tell me of this... This beast. I want to know."

It was... So much. Too much, almost. Isra's pale ears remained alert and poised forward as Smoke divulged the ancient information that she withheld, and the daughter of a Wild Rose and the Sun merely stood stationary and listened. In troubling parts, her ears would tip back, but not in anger. Oh, no... She was merely saddened, for much of this history spoke of such pain and unfathomable heart break that Israfel couldn't even comprehend.

She listened with keen interest of the story of Ra, the Sun's Emissary, and this noble stallion Voltaic, and their ultimate demise. It was what had led to put Kri on the throne of the Dragon's Throat, a bloody and terrible war that she had not been born for. Perhaps that was a priviledge, but as Smoke dove deeper into the tales of her father and his untameable wrath, Israfel couldn't help but be shocked. Yes, she knew that the God of the Sun was a force to be reckoned with and contained a fiery rage, much like she herself did... But had he reallly done such terrible things? At mention of the burnt and charred cleaing in the Edge, these very lands, Israfel gave a dip of her head to signal that yes, she had.

"I have... But I was much younger. I didn't understand what had happend, just that seeing the trees and ground scorched made me kind of... Sad. I had no idea that it was created by father's doing." There was a troubled look to the demi-goddesses vermillion eyes, the fiery orange depths of her irises darkened with trouble. She still loved her father dearly, yes, but... This did change how she viewed him. The world could not survive without light, she knew, but even though fire gave that very element, it was the wrath of the fire that must be respected. Beautiful yet dangerous...

Israfel continued to listen about this tale of Isilme, the name of a land that she had only heard snippets about in passing. A few of the adults that she had encountered had spoken of this land dubbed Isilme, and briefly, in passing, the golden-hued princess would wonder just what had become of it. Little to her knowledge, today would be the day.

Still, as her pale lips remained sealed to not interrupt her mother, Israfel couldn't help but give Smoke a wild and confused look at the notion of there being other Gods. The Gods of Earth, Moon, Sun, and Time weren't all there were? But... how? Still, Israfel kept her mouth shut and listened keenly to the stories of Nieque, Cinnoru, and Sepagus, and then of Imiq, Aarde, and Cielo. All of these names were foreign to her, she knew, but there was a certain weight beneath each of them. They had lived and died, Israfel realized, and they had each experienced life in ways that she could not fathom. Gods... What a fool she was.

Standing beside her mother, Israfel's vermillion depths drifted downwards to the golden shines of her hooves. Weight shifting back and forth, breath entering and leaving her body in calm motions, Israfel pushed her golden hooves further into the dirt. The feathers upon her wings quivered as she digested and soaked in all of this new information, listening of her mother's quarrels and the origins of the scars that marred her legs and hide. So, that was how...

'I swore I'd raise you better than them, Israfel.' Smoke said to her, clearly maimed with pain with the uncovering of old memories. 'It is good to have pride, but balanced with humility. Too much pride has been the downfall of many a horse, regardless of species.'

"Mother..." Israfel was unable to form the words that collected in her throat. They sat there, collecting and forming and all struggling against one another to come out at once, but the only thing that could even push forth from the depths of her maw was an utterly pathetic plea of, "Mama." An endearing word, desperation and fear and uncertainty all rolled into two syllables... Would she turn out like that? Is that what the God of the Spark had warned her of in his vision? Is that why she needed to change? Was Smoke ashamed that her daughter had been going down the same path that those created before her had done? Was there still hope for her?

"Mama... I'm... Very sorry." Tears threatened to fall, swimming in the depths of the demi-goddess' fiery eyes. This was all too much to take in, a whole new world that Israfel hadn't even known existed... Perhaps, if she had been able to see past her own muzzle for a few moments, then it wouldn't have come down to this. "I don't want to turn out like them... And I'm sorry if I've let you down. I never wanted to... I just wanted to make you and father proud of me." Of course, Isra realized now, she had done a poor job of going about it...

"What should I do?" She asked at last, lifting her gaze to meet Smoke's dark eyes. Reaching forward with her muzzle, neck stretching, the daughter of Roses and Light moved to brush her nose against her mother's neck, mindful of her horn. "How can I make a difference?"