"Cassiopeia," my voice is calm and light, like the exhale of a breath, as I see the dark figure of one of my oldest friends. I am not sure she considered me a friend, for she was of a different nature than her late love, Azzuen. I have always thought of Cassie as a mysterious, soft spoken mare with a gentle nature. I remember upon my arrival, she had pledged allegiance to my cause, the cause of my people. To this day, she has given much for our family, though many may not remember all she has sacrificed. Despite the peaceful heart I saw within her, she had attempted to prepare for a battle in my name, the battle who had taken Voltaic.

Thank goodness the rest were spared.

Still, as my dark blue eyes land upon her frame, she appears weary. It is true that she has been absent for so long, trapped within a foreign home and broken by vultures of my land. Unfortunately, even my brave soul could not best Psyche in her own home. I am useless to protect her, like all of the others, from this evil which encroaches. Looking toward her tired and beaten form, I am reminded that my ego has grown large, but we are vulnerable alone. For too long, I have sat by and put my beloved ones, like Cassiopeia, in danger with inactivity. I allow them to be stolen, injured, and worn until they return home like ghosts who know little else what to do.

However, I know that her heart is heavy for other reasons as well. Azzuen's absence was felt everywhere, like the pain left in aching muscles and bones long after the original wound has healed. The sand whispered of his life, and the winds reminded me of the day his body floated away. This was more of a comfort to me, knowing that an old friend was watching over me still. But, to the one who captured his heart, what would the reminders feel like? Knives stabbing into her own? I did not know, for while I was not naive to the pains of childbirth, I had no memory of romantic love. I can only recall the pain which struck in my heart when I believed my daughter dead. My mind was uneasy for years, and Onni had returned to my side. I fear the only reunion awaiting Cassiopeia is in her own death.

I let out a gentle sigh, before coming to stand beside her, looking over toward her charcoal face and bright teal eyes. "I am grateful to see you home once again."

What else could I say?
""

I had few friends, in truth. My personality was rough like a burr, and I found myself more often than not pissing off my company. All who resided in my home, which were many, I take as family. However, many families do not see perfectly eye to eye. I would take Midas as a friend, a confidant if I ever needed an ear. Mirage in the distant World's Edge had long been my friend and companion. Azzuen, the late General, I would know as my brother and friend. His lady, Cassieopeia? I would risk my life to save her, as I always would, but we were distant relatives, I think. Bold, that is what I think calling her a friend would be. She offers it so easily to me, though, her friendship, at least in words.

I smile, a delicate expression which tugs newly forming lines along my eyes, reminding me I am aging despite the virulent spirit which surges in my veins. My prime is kept only by vigorous exercise and practice, but should I slack on my duties I would certainly become an arthritic bitty. No matter how strong the heart, your body may not always listen. Do I fear death? No. I fear being trapped alive in a useless body.

Looking toward the dark cast mare, I wonder how she feels. Her face feels like a mask mimicking words but not actually feeling their intent - grateful. She says it, happily, yet I do not feel the word resounding my chest like it does in my mind. Despite the lighthearted words, melancholy settles in around us. I know her heart is heavy, for it pushes against my own. I cannot rouse her like I did Midas with battle, for she is a peaceful soul. I am useless as her Sultana, in this moment, for she does not need a Commander but a friend. Can I be her friend?

"The desert reminds me of the brothers buried in the sand," I say, in response to her words. "Colorful and vibrant like their spirits, warm like their hearts, and always comforting to lay eyes upon." I smile sadly, thinking of both Voltaic and Azzuen, sons of Legends in Isilme. Legends of their own here. I miss them both, my first Generals, but I could do little but want for their company now. "I am sorry, Cassie, for all the times I failed you and him."

"If I could be half of what I promise, you would never have been harmed."

Death is so very hard on those left alive. Maybe this is why I do not fear the end of my life, for I know that I will not be the one left in pain. The living walk in the shadow of the dead, feeling the coolness of their absence like the desert sands in the absence of the sun. Even now, I feel the heat seeping from the sand as darkness usurps the kingdom of light. Unlike those lost, the sun will always return. Those shadows which crowd our life, the spirits of loved ones, would never let their light return. Would our sun ever rise again after they are gone? That is why some die; we are frigid from the loss of love in our hearts.

As I look at Cassiopeia, I can feel the coolness of her spirit. Such a large portion of it had been robbed away too soon, and while I loved Azzuen as a brother, she had let him claim her heart. Wreathed in sorrow and grief, no wonder she had grown cold, colder still in the Basin. I lower my head as she glances at me, my dark eyes catching on the expression she makes.
Questioning, as if she had no idea why I was apologizing.

I look out toward the horizon with her, as the star-wielding maiden spoke of all I had done. I want to laugh cruelly, but remain silent. I gathered a home for my kin and held it fast for them, yet I could not hold all of my family safe in my heart. Some slipped out and fell, broken upon the ground. I was never born to be a leader, yet I found myself holding my post now, even years after I had been granted the crown of Isilme's Cliffs. Maybe I was trusted for my strength; maybe I was respected because of my sharp tongue. I did not know why I was placed here, despite my inability to sit passively. That had been my intent in Isilme, just to inspire some movement in the hooves of my winged brothers. In Helovia, I had sought to protect my brethren still, but why did I claim leadership? Because no one else would?

Sometimes, I still do not know. However, I am still leader, and I can still fail my people no matter the excuse I would hide behind. If I had been a good leader for Cassiopeia, she would never have faced such torment. I am a protector. None should be damaged under my watch. "I feel as though you have wrongfully paid my debt," I say, my voice quiet, looking at her with dark eyes.

I listen to her speak about the Ardent, her voice so low I can barely capture it. I swivel my ears in her direction, listening intently, my face turning so that I can watch the expressions dance across her face. "The loss of Azzuen shook the earth," I say in response, nodding gently. "No matter how peacefully he left us." Even the Gods seemed to honor his death quietly, the fallen General, the last son of the Crimson Cliffs. I could only allow him to pass from this world without guilt, if the dead could listen, for I knew he had done more than his share for this herd. Full of life, but so very old if we counted age by deeds.

"You needn't apologize, friend. Mourning is natural, and grief is a strong enemy."