Huyana slept peacefully by the reflecting lake.

Flowers tickled her nose while icy water lapped at her side. The roan was a picture of serenity: she was strewn upon the shore, head resting on an extended foreleg, while the rest of her limbs were tucked neatly beneath her. Her tail was curled about a hind leg, and she snored softly, sensless to the world surrounding her. Occasionally, her nose quivered and her eyelids fluttered - what did the unicorn dream of tonight? Of pleasant spring rains and a world laden with life, or of deluges, rushing down mountains and reaping life as if were mere wheat. This was not relevant, for the evening (or was it morning? One could never tell with this unending night) was fresh and the stars shone down upon her.

In the meanwhile, a pale snowy owl propelled itself over the cooler currents of the north, gliding over the small bay between the Heavenly Fields and the Basin with unparalleled ease. He was employed to scout this particular biome of Helovia for any of the scholarly pursuit; and so he did, orange eyes roving over the lush valley for any sign of life.

Names and faces had been given to him of the Basin's resident scholars and healers, and a little dark blob by the lake seemed promising. He swooped down below, enjoying the cool breeze rustling between his pale feathers. The shapeless thing quickly became a unicorn - a sterling roan mare with an onyx horn perched upon her brow: Huyana. If birds could smile triumphantly, he certainly would have. He extended his talons toward her, grasping at bits of mane and hooting loudly to rouse the mare from her slumber.

Sleepily, the rainchild tossed her head with annoyance, watching the bird from beneath thick eyelashes. He continued on plucking hairs from her crest until finally she stood, ears pinned. "What do you want?" She wondered uselessly, assuming that this particular avian had no business knowing the common tongue. But how she was mistaken - he was not just any owl, but a highly educated one, and of a sublime breeding, at that. He fixed the unicorn with a stern glance - one that meant business - and that was universal in any language. Huyana understood.

With a final tug at her forelock, the owl took wing and flittered off. "Follow," he suggested in a voice awkward and difficult to understand, but she found meaning in his command. Begrudgingly, Huyana did as he asked.

---

Dark hooves moved through lush grass - she had arrived. The owl led her to a single tree which leaned precariously over the land's end. Small, pale flowers surrounded it, like a nebula of little stars, seeming to glow under the moonlight. He found perch beside a grizzled pigeon, which fixed her with a gaze both infinitely old and wise. "Huyana, scholar of the Basin," the ancient bird addressed, her voice deep and clear and free of any sort of avian accent. The unicorn tilted her head, intrigued by this speaking bird. "Knowledge is soil," the pigeon said, "It must grow and be spread like earth, and minds planted within it. If properly tilled and cared for, these minds will flourish." She tilted her head, watching the roan carefully. "If left to fallow, these minds will fail, and weeds will soon strangle them. Cultivate, my child. Soon, many of your following will arrive. Impart my message to them - share your knowledge, your experience. No voice shall be overlooked." With a last, lingering glance, the bird departed, leaving the astounded rainchild alone, beneath the improbable oak tree.

She must wait now.