Dragons sung their songs, all the while a little dark mare stared at the body of her fallen friend. Thoughts cascaded through her brain, faster than a river fell over a waterfall, and yet, it was as if someone had pressed the mute button - the thoughts were there, in full colour and speed, but they were not at the forefront of her mind. Something else had taken that spot, something that was usually tucked safely behind the wall of indifference or compassion, depending on who you asked. It was a darkness, ringed by fire, a toxic combination that would surely mean an unsettling unbalance, an edge that would be breached by grief, by rage, by sheer damaging forces that would affect more than just her. Akaith, given an inside view of everything going in her beloved's troubled soul, tightened her hold upon her bonded's very soul, encasing it in her own as she had many times before, giving it strength to continue to survive the torment that threatened to shatter what control the mare held over herself.

Why do we love, Akaith? Why do we give our hearts to others, entrusting them with the very organ that gives us life, the organ responsible for passion, for love, for devotion? Why should we trust them not to take a piece of it with them when they pass, forever lost in the ether with their souls as they begin their immortal journey beyond life? Why, Akaith, why?

Our souls beat for one another, they are in synchrony; when one of us dies, the other shall follow. Love is love, it transcends species, time, even space. Look in your heart, beloved one, see it how I see it; it still loves Torasin even though he has passed, and it will continue to do so until we find him again. Look, to your parents, they are gone, and yet we live on, helping their names survive through the ages - no one ever truly dies, Mirage. They live on, in all of us. We can only endure long enough to ensure the future generations know and remember their names, and hold them forever in their hearts, as we will.

But it hurts, Akaith.

Since when does anything worthwhile not take some pain to make it worthwhile?

It was during this painful internal interrogation that the fellow dragons arrived, the small white form of Fajira, the slightly larger one of Zaffre, and the curious dark shadow of her daughter's spirit friend. To all of them Akaith greeted sadly, with low, guttural murmurs rolling from her chest in a draconic croon. To Zaffre, the little queen took it upon herself to request that Smoke act promptly despite the freshness of the death, to step up and lead the remaining nurses. To Fajira, she gave her nod of approval, knowing that Lace would be swift to spread the word; their beloved healer was dead.

Mirage could not think straight. Her mind was disconnected, even as she extended her velvet maw to each youth that arrived to offer what little comfort she could to them. His son, his daughter, her own daughter - they were all siblings now in their grief to his memory. And she - was she their mother? Another tear fell from her golden pools, dripping from her muzzle to land upon the icy shard that had caused her beloved painted friend's death. The little shadow could not even calculate how the ice stood out in her memory, from an attack so long ago in a war that she herself started…

"Children," her voice was soft, deep, disconnected. "We must go home." She spoke the words with a grim finality; an Edge member had been killed, it was not safe to be beyond the borders. With a turn of her tiara, she peered to the son who had appropriately inherited the amulet Torasin had earned countless seasons ago. "All of us." Her words were deliberate, this time containing a hint of kindness behind them - an offer, a promise. The DragonHeart may not be able to bring his father back, but she could at least offer the home that his father had helped build to him as a sanctuary.

Tearing her gaze away from the fallen body of Torasin, the entire bloody scene imprinted upon her brain, the dark mare began walking away, a smooth, long gait that did not dawdle but was easy to maintain without much thought - and the little mare had a great many thoughts she needed to consider. As she passed the pale form of Sakura, her voice pressed forth from her lips once more. "He will live on, my dear. He will be in our hearts, always." With a final colourful trill, Akaith bid her young brown friend a final fond farewell, before accompanying her beloved north, home.