The world always looked so different from five thousand feet up. From the sky, he could pretend that everything below was just how it should be. He could tell himself that this was a normal night; that the sun would soon return and yet another day would greet him. Despite the tricks that he played on himself, the lies that he repeated religiously like words of prayer, he could not fool himself into believing that everything was ‘alright’. Over the course of the seasons, since the night the lights went out, his life, his energy, had gradually begun to die. Like a candle that’s come to the end of its wick, the fire was slowly bleeding from his heart.

Lately, he had been spending all his time within the boundaries of the Foothills. He had always loved to travel about the continent, seeking out new faces or old familiar ones that brought company and good memories. But, he had lost that now. Outside the walls of his home, he had no one. The darkness had been the great divide that had severed those bonds he had formed and now left him chained to his cave in the cliff-face. Instead of following his usual rituals, he had devoted himself to patrols and service for his family. He found himself feeling something he never had before; something so contrary to his true character that he would not admit it to himself.

Normally, his path would lead him north, but he wasn’t sure he could ever revisit the memories made in the snow. Instead, he chose to travel south, not needing to follow the stars to know his true course. The land gradually flattened as he distanced himself from the mountains and valleys of the Foothills, and every so slightly the air began to warm. The open sky was a welcome change from his cramped quarters in the cliff-face. He felt lonely there, often waking in the night, or whatever time of day it was that he had chosen to rest, to open his eyes to darkness, with just the muted glow of his markings on the damp walls.

The only time he could feel at peace was when he was close to the sky. He immersed himself in the company of the stars to drown out his loneliness, placing himself as near to the moon’s light as he could manage. He was tired, but still he carried on. By his internal clock, he should have been sleeping. He closed his eyes. It didn’t matter to him if he drifted off-course; wherever he ended up, whatever world he next opened his eyes to, maybe it would be better than this one. Behind closed eyelids, he saw the world how it used to be. How it should be; his mother on the cliffs of their home, looking out across the sea as the sun set. His father, still alive and standing at the head of his fleet. His family. His home. The sun. The snow. Her.

Gradually, he began to feel warmth. It was faint at first, lightly touching his cheek as though the memories were restoring heat to his frozen core; but it was too real to be a figment of his colourful imagination. He opened his eyes. Weak golden light gilded the frosted tips of his feathers on his left wing, the ice crystals shining like a million fiery diamonds. Looking to the east, he sought out the horizon, where a weak grey light had appeared from beyond the smooth curve of the planet. He thought he must be dreaming. It was the sun! A small golden arch, like the top of a crown, began to crest the mountains. Pink and amber light spilled across the trees and hills as morning once more returned to the land. Finally, the darkness was washed away by the sunlight.

Quickly, he descended, unsure of his position due to the various distractions that had stolen his attention. Getting lost was the least of his concerns at the moment, but he wanted to be able to stand still, to turn his face into the sunlight and feel the warmth once more. Low cloud was scattered throughout the trees and hills below, moisture rising from the cool earth as the heat summoned it upward. He lowered himself through the damp air toward his chosen landing site, a meadow, softly lowering his hooves down into the tall grass and assorted wild flowers.

From his position on the hill, he watched the light grow. It splashed across his face and chest, extinguishing his bold markings and melting the frost from his pale feathers. As the sun rose, a rich golden glow bled from above the peaks of navy mountains, the light spreading into deep amber and finally into pink and crimson as it met the slate blue of the sky. Clouds appeared in soft violets as the stars faded into the backdrop, blotting out the chalky face of the moon. The sunrise bathed his inky coat in rose, rousing the planet from its sleep and finally banishing the shadows.

Slowly, he walked through the tall grass. He listened to birdsong and stared at the sun until his eyes burned, his neck reaching out for the warmth. Tall flowers waved against his legs in the gentle breeze, and he reached down to pick one, simply holding it in his mouth. The life that had been sustained in the sun’s absence was all thanks to the Earth God, and without his efforts, Helovia would have become something much less beautiful and much more hard to bare. He picked another flower, a white daisy, letting it dangle from his lips along with the weight of the lupin.

He continued on through the tall grass, every now and then adding another flower to his bouquet. Their petals mixed in a lively rainbow, their scents mingling as the breeze passed through the meadow. The forest stretched along beside him, and he ducked into the shelter of a grove that was dappled with watery sunlight. He stepped beneath the branches into the small clearing, his hooves disappearing beneath a canopy of flowers as he pulled himself between a space in the trees. In front of him, immersed in the flora, was the curled, golden form of a unicorn. Was it dead? No. Sleeping.

He watched it for a moment, pondering whether he should leave the creature to rest or wake it to see the sunlight, provided it had not yet witnessed the miracle. He took a step to the side, studying what features were visible beneath the myriad of petals. The stallion had a fine face, one that spoke of his youth and yet somehow seemed to reflect the harshness of his past. A horn, like the sharpened edge of a knife, rose from his forehead beneath curled, copper hair that shone in the sunlight. He was strangely beautiful in a familiar sort of way. Murdock craned his neck to the side, flowers still dangling from his mouth as he got a better look at the unicorn’s profile. Silas!

Or, whatever name he was going by at the moment. The last time Murdock had seen the lieutenant was years ago. They had fought together, joined due to a herd alliance, and had become close friends through the trials of battle and the teamwork of training. After they had parted ways, he had guessed he would never see the conman again. How did he get here? How would fate have their paths cross once more? Stepping forward, wading through the tall grass, Murdock lowered his head to the stallion’s withers. He opened his mouth, letting the flowers tumble from his lips and spill across Silas' shoulders and through his silky mane. The unicorn had always appreciated beautiful things like flowers; perhaps that was because he felt he had something in common with them.

As he raised his head, Murdock caught the distinct scent of the Basin off the stallion’s coat. A sharp pang of remembrance struck his heart as the familiar smell reached his nose. Had Silas joined the unicorns of the north? Did he not hate the cold? Once more, Murdock feared that yet another one who was close to him would be torn from his reach due to the poison of supremacy. Had she not been taken in the same way? Sighing, he shifted his damp wings against his sides. “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he whispered softly, taking a step back into the warmth of the sunlight.

"talk talk talk"

The stallion at his feet stirred, along with the memories that drifted about in the back of his mind. Like the slow dawning of the day upon the planet, the unicorn gradually returned to consciousness as the last fog of sleep was shaken from his eyes. At first, he seemed unaware of the creature standing above him; his blue eyes that were sheltered beneath a fine curtain of copper hair studied the ground beneath him for a moment before he seemed to realize he was not alone. A smile crept onto Murdock’s lips, which shortly broadened into a grin as the fine golden head was turned his way, and then tipped upward to reveal a wide pair of ice blue eyes.

His name was spoken softly, though not in a greeting or even a question. It seemed more of a statement, as if the unicorn was entirely unconvinced of this apparition that stood before him. The smile remained. “Silas,” he responded, a hint of laughter in his cheerful tone. Unbeknownst to him, his former ally no longer went by the title he had always known him to hold. It had been many seasons since their last meeting, and much had changed in each of their lives. He held the disbelieving gaze, enduring the incredulous stare of his long forgotten comrade for lengths of time that might have been considered rude or uncomfortable by others. He did not mind.

When finally Silas looked away to divert his attention to an itch, he noticed the blanket of flowers that had been bestowed upon him. With a faint smile, Murdock admired his artistic creation. The vibrant pinks and violets of the wildflowers blended perfectly with the backdrop of polished bronze, creating a myriad of colours much like the ones that had been seen in the sky that morning when the sun had finally risen. All around them was a lively symphony of colour that seemed to compliment their reunion, the sun bathing the clearing in pure, uninterrupted gold. After months of darkness, Murdock didn’t even want to allow himself to blink lest he open his eyes to find himself surrounded by shadows once more.

When Silas finally arrived at the conclusion that this stranger truly was his old friend, no doubt his decision enforced by the gift of flowers, Murdock nodded his head in affirmation. Though it had taken the General a moment to finally connect the face to the faded memory of his companion, he would have guessed that his own image was unmistakable. Few others shared the wildly curly hair or spindly legs that he had been gifted with, which no doubt gave him a striking appearance to match his personality. He stepped back as the unicorn rose to his feet. Flowers and stray petals poured off his back and tumbled through his hair, some catching in his silky mane.

Murdock shrugged off the questions that followed, dropping his gaze from his comrade’s face for a moment as if to allow himself a moment to think. He told himself his story had been unremarkable, but truly, much had occurred between their last meeting on the shores of Anorien to their present audience in the meadow. After that final goodbye, when they had sworn to meet again someday, he had returned to Evendim to his fleet and his family. There, he had been fortunate enough to receive two months of rest and the privileges of a war hero before disaster struck.

They were invaded by the southern fleet, the kingdom with the greatest numbers, though they weren’t as advanced as his family in the north. The battle waged for weeks, the members of the herd who could not fight fleeing underground to the caves for safety. It was a bloody sort of guerilla war, in which each warrior on both sides would mask their glowing markings beneath dark mud so as to be invisible at night. Murdock was cursed with pale wings, and so despite his attempts to camouflage, he was soon singled out in the sky.

He was chased for miles before a second group intercepted him, knocking him down to the rocky cliffs where he was beaten until his resolve cracked. His will to go on, to keep fighting, had at that moment been extinguished like the flame of a candle that had been snuffed out by the wind. He was imprisoned by the southern fleet, escorted back to their barbaric quarters where he was kept in a cave, away from the sunlight, for months. Perhaps that was why the disappearance of the sun and the beginning of the endless night had haunted him so; it had summoned memories of his captivity that he had long kept buried in the back of his mind. It was only when his captors began to get careless that he made his escape. He was unable to return home, though, for fear that it had been overrun. Anorien was also out of the question, as the southern fleet had many spies there. And so, fate had lead him south across the waters to Helovia.

“Searching for a better life,” he responded at long last, lifting his gaze from the flattened flowers where Silas had lay only a moment ago. “Shortly after returning from Anorien, my home was invaded and I was captured. I was held for months before finally making my escape. For lack of a better option, I ventured to the unknown and ended up here”. His face held little emotion despite the bitter memories that returned to him. That was all part of his past now, there was no use troubling himself over what he could not change. He had grown to accept it, and in doing so had allowed himself to forge a new beginning in a new land.

“I hope your story is a happy one. How did you come to be here?” It seemed strange to him that Silas would leave his home. After the conflict had been settled, Murdock could not imagine why his friend would desire to leave such a beautiful and peaceful place. In response to the unicorn’s second question, his shoulders rose slightly in a shrug. “Oh, everywhere. I wandered for a while. Stirred up some trouble. Found myself a place in a mercenary band and soon claimed the land known as the Foothills. The family has very much fallen apart in the absence of our original leaders, but we are hoping to build our strength.” He paused for a moment, unsure if he should dare unearth what could come to be a tense subject. “How are you liking the Basin?” He asked hesitantly as he breathed in the scent of the snow and ice off the stallion’s coat.

"talk talk talk"