She was a vision of beauty that danced around my head, quite dismally so. If I were to fly to her we would both come crashing down to the flames of hell only because we were meant for ruin, for eminent disaster. Could I lie to myself and pretend that she was not gone and that I had somehow taken her place in heaven? Somehow I doubted that she would even remember my name, my face, the love we shared. But of course, it was all a matter of opinion. Perhaps we had not shared love at all, but instead a likeness for the security such an idea possessed. I could think of a million ways to describe her beauty, her inspiration- but would it be worth it? Could I recall her dark eyes and find comfort or just pain? Could I reminisce in her faded touch or would the sensation only burn? No matter where I turned my desperate thoughts, she was there carving her broken name upon my waiting tongue.

Kahlua was a curious mare with the personality to match. She piqued my dead interests and made me feel alive- of course I won’t say that it had anything to do with any real affection I had toward the girl but more so because of the loneliness I felt inside. Part of my heart had been taken after my beloved’s death and now that the gaping void had been cooled by the everlasting night, all I could feel was the emptiness that remained. Perhaps I was wrong to indulge in her company or perhaps it was a sickening verse that I had grown accustomed to singing, but at least I could still sing at all.


“It’s my pleasure. Your endeavors are just as much mine as they are your own.” Distractedly, I gazed at the mare with the sapphire eyes, still engrossed in memories or forever with a girl that would never know what forever could have felt like. I suppose you could say it was a saddening attribute of mine but I had no way of overcoming it- at least until I found the means to engage my heart’s affairs elsewhere.

It would happen someday of course, of that I was sure. However, my musings were soon interrupted by the approach of a silver-spun stallion with a curious web strung across his elegant face. I had certainly never been one-on-one with the man, but I knew that his heart was pure and his intentions good. He had been faithful to the Edge for some time now and though his residency far outreached my own, I still felt a small connection to him simply because he was part of the Quian, part of my family. “Lace, it’s good to see you. I trust you’ve been well?” It felt strange that I could not recall another memory with the fellow, but I promised the open night air that at some point there would be.

Slowly, I closed my eyes, content to let introductions smooth the surface of my distraction. I was once again lost to those wondrous eyes and quirky smile- she was everlasting, just like the night. But just as I had thought to imagine her, my sweet Tamira, she was once again ripped from my grasp and spread throughout the darkness like a vapor meant for the dead.

The suffering had commenced.

There had been many deaths in the Edge as of late and how we all planned to deal with them varied from soul to soul, but at least we were still thriving in spite of the pain. I wasn’t sure how Lace felt about such dreary news, but he seemed to hide the grief well enough behind tired eyes. “It is all that I can do anymore to encourage those like yourself, and believe me, your support is more than endearing.” Call me what you will, but I was more than grateful to those that continued to call me their WeyrLeader in spite of the true equality that made us all one. We were certainly a unique family, one comprised of so many different qualities and techniques that I sometimes got lost in all of the brilliant combinations. Take Kahlua for example- she was quite the bombshell when it came to getting where she needed to be. She wasted no time and from what I could tell, certainly wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I had no doubt that we needed creatures such as herself to help guide us away from the ruin that had caused us such hurt in the past and I was more than delighted that she had been inspired enough by my rambling to call the Edge her home.

The mention of my name coaxed me away from my weary thoughts and for a moment I was convinced that the conversation had shifted away from the painted mare and back unto me just when I had been quite content to relinquish the stage to some other unwilling participant. But, as they prattled back and forth about the crafter’s wall, still equally as unconcerned with me as I was with them, I allowed my vagabond emotions to rule my conscious once more. However, visions of sugarplums didn’t dance in my head. Instead, soulless brown eyes seemed to overpower the last of my will and made me abysmal once again. Would there ever come a day that her memory didn’t haunt my future?

“I suppose I’ve lost my touch in the way of proper introductions as well as divulging critical information when it is well warranted. As a crafter you will be granted a magic that will help you with the trade, but in a recent turn of events, all magic has been stolen from us along with the Gods who are working to have it returned. But of course, I won’t bore you with all the gory details until you’ve settled in. I’m sure there’s still much for you to learn about the Edge and all of our amenities.” Distractedly, I resumed my silent place beside the blue-eyed beauty, still reeling and dancing around various problems the Edge now faced in the absence of light and magic to be replaced with death and heartache.

Was Helovia coming to an end?

Slowly, I abandoned my selfish concerns so that I might be able to learn a little more about Kahlua and her choice to join our home (for Lace had done well in capturing my interest when it had all but frayed at the seams). I was certainly curious to find out what motivated our newest addition, especially when it appeared that she was working quite studiously from a game plan still unknown to me. Her confidence was endearing, but it was also slightly questionable.