HOME | DD

Description
Prologue

A cool wind blew across the Banishlands, causing the gray mare atop the hill to shiver.  Winter was retreating, but a deep gloom still flickered over the land. Dark storm clouds loomed high in the sky, and to the southeast, the Lorarem Mountains soared into infinity.  The mare snorted, tossing her light gray mane.  The rainy weather disturbed her.  In a life before, the black clouds above her head would have meant more than a wet coat.  But now, they were a simple sign that a moist night was closing in.

Letting out a deep sigh, Yalda arched her neck to glance at the black stallion that stood at the foot of the grassy hill.  In the shadowy light, Razarr’s coat shone like ebony obsidian, powerful muscles etched out in his fur.  Letting out a high-pitched whinny, Yalda swished her tail, blue eyes flashing.  Razarr lifted his massive head, turning to gaze at his mate.  The stallion returned her call with a snort, bending his neck once more to graze.

Yalda pawed the ground irritably, and then bowed her own head to scent the grass at her hooves.  Although the atmosphere was damp, the mustard-color prairie below her was as dry as desert sand.  And as the gray mare nibbled at the ends of the grass, Yalda winced as it crunched between her teeth, and she quickly spat it out.  There is nothing here but desert grass.  The mare could not remember the last time she had eaten green grass, fresh with the taste of spring.  Laying her ears to her head, Yalda tipped her muzzle to the sky, searching for any speck or hint of blue, but a sinister gray was all that met her eyes.

Yalda’s sides heaved as she gave a deep sigh, and a late winter breeze made its way up her spine, making the mare shiver.  Spring could never come soon enough, especially for a pregnant mare like Yalda.  The light gray mare’s belly was round and full, like it became in the summer, except more swollen than a summer belly could ever develop into.  It was home to Razarr’s legacy, and Yalda couldn’t help but smile to herself.  It was an honor to be the dam of her mate’s foal.

Above the pair, the dark sky let out a low rumble, seeming to shake the Banishlands themselves.  Yalda froze, flashing the whites of her eyes as she lifted forehooves from the ground for a split second.  Below her, Razarr lifted his head, ears pricked and body tense, ready to leap away at the smallest movement.  All was quiet for a moment before Yalda relaxed, letting her muscles slacken.  The wind picked up, fiercer than before, and Yalda tossed her head as her silver forelock blew into her eyes.

The mare lifted her head slightly as in the distance, a flash of lighting struck the ground.  Feeling the hair on her spine raise slightly as electricity blazed through the air, Yalda lifted her upper lip and nickered to Razarr.  The black stallion flicked and ear and turned his head up towards his mate; he too had seen the lightning.  From the top of the rise, Yalda could make out the bright gleam of excitement in her mate’s eye.  Razarr found storms exciting, and while Yalda often took shelter during the rain, Razarr would leap and dance to the beat of rainfall.  Stallions she thought, shaking her mane.

Suddenly, a deep, roaring boom resounded above the two horses.  Yalda let out a shriek, leaping onto her hind legs and letting her hooves paw the sky as yet another roar of thunder bellowed from the clouds.  Falling to all fours, the gray mare bounded forward, hooves pounding into the hillside as she raced towards her mate.  As she reached the foot of the hill, Yalda skidded to a halt, letting out a low whinny as she pressed her face into Razarr’s warm side.  The stallion nickered softly back, nuzzling her mane gently with his velvety muzzle.  The pair stayed there for a moment, pushed against each other, letting their fear be washed away.

Finally, Yalda took a step back, letting her deep blue eyes meet Razarr’s golden ones.  The ebony stallion’s eyes were glazed with compassion, and Yalda reached forward to softly brush her muzzle against his as the heavens tumbled above their heads.  Suddenly, with a low plop, a single drop of water fell upon Yalda’s cheek.  In unison, Razarr and the mare tipped their muzzles to the sky as more rain began to fall.  Letting out a snort, Razarr pulled away from his mate, lifting his head higher and narrowing his eyes.

Yalda swished her tail, pawing the wet grass as rain began to pound into her coat.  “Razarr,” she called, shaking her mane as water made its way through her hair.  “Razarr, come.  Let’s find shelter before the rain creates mud upon the ground.”  The mare stamped a hoof.  “You know I don’t like muck clinging to my pelt.”  Razarr acknowledged her with a single twitch of a muscle, but did not reply.

Yalda snorted crossly, watching as her mate began to paw the ground, as was his custom before a dance.  The stallion then froze, head held high and eyes alert.  A moment passed before the ebony horse reared into the air, hooves pawing the air furiously.  Razarr let out a high pitched whinny, then dropped to the ground and raced forward, hooves making the rain-soaked ground quiver.  Yalda stared as her mate suddenly stopped and bucked, back hooves striking the sky.  Razarr fell to the ground and raced forward again as Yalda turned her back on the stallion and trotted away, nostrils flared.

The rain was falling harder now, and the gray mare had to squint to make out any sign of shelter.  Spotting a patch of bramble some 10 horse-lengths away, Yalda broke into a canter and galloped towards the sanctuary, mane flying out behind her like a flag.  Ducking her head, the mare pushed her way into the bush, but when she tried to straighten, her mane caught in the above branches.  Letting out a snort of exasperation, the gray horse arched her neck, rainwater dripping from the end of her forelock.  Sighing, Yalda closed her eyes and tipped a back hoof, calling on sleep.  Just as her mind began to wander away from reality, Yalda felt another coat brush against her side.  Jolting back to awareness, the mare swung her head to her side, scanning the area for another horse.  But all that met her eyes was dense, sodden bramble.

Yalda could smell her own fear scent as she slowly arched her neck again.  All was deadly silent, and only the deep pounding of rain could be heard.  From outside the brambles, Yalda heard Razarr let out a high-pitched whinny, and the mare couldn’t help but smile to herself.  Yalda knew that this was the time that her mate was happiest, when he could be free and dance and do things that he could never have done back in Empire.  Empire.  The gray mare felt as though hooves had struck her throat, and Yalda quickly swallowed, not letting herself be overtaken be her feelings.  Those days were over now, long past, and the memories were too horrible to ponder upon.  But Yalda couldn’t help but remember the good times in the land over the Lorarem Mountains.  A land where the grass was always green, even in the hottest of summers, and where horses ran across open prairies with wild manes and thundering hooves.

But then there had been life in the Thiskel Alpha Herd, lead by the great bay stallion Orothgar.  Yalda narrowed her ocean-blue eyes and lashed out at air with a back hoof, fury climbing through her veins.  Orothgar, with his fearful stance and unfair laws that struck every horse in a negative way.  Orothgar, who could make you believe an eagle was a fly if he set his mind to it.  Yalda gulped down a sob.  And her mate, who had fallen for his tricks, and in the end paid for it.  A nicker came from Razarr, who was still dancing in the cool rain outside.  Yalda sighed, bowing her head and begging sleep to close in.

“Memories aren’t washed away very easily, are they?”  Yalda jumped as a voice spoke to her, calm and filled with sadness.  Looking up, the gray mare stifled an amazed gasp as she stared at the horse before her.  A light palomino color washed its flank, and the gentlest flicker of cream ran through its mane and tail.  But what really struck Yalda was the horse’s eyes.  A deep metallic blue blazed in the depths of its eyes, but there was no white or black to be seen, just the un-earthly blue.  And upon the left shoulder of the palomino was a symbol: a line went diagonally up to the left, and then stopped and drove straight down.  The vertical line stopped, and from the end of it came another diagonal line rising up to the left.  Finally, from the end of the last line, an upside-down C-shape curved over the main line to the right.  The symbol was the same color as the horse’s eyes, but it let of a strange glow that lit the bramble cave.

Yalda stared at the horse, eyes wide with astonishment.  Silence echoed through the cave, and for a moment, the gray mare forgot how to speak.  “How-Why are you here?” Yalda finally stammered, ocean-blue eyes swimming with confusion.  The palomino gave a small, melancholy smile, dipping her head.

“It has been a long while, Yalda,” the horse murmured, flicking an ear.  “Many summers have passed since we last met, and that meeting was in a simple dream.”  The palomino glanced around the bramble cave.  “You were never meant to gallop to the Banishlands. Razarr alone was supposed to leave, but alas, young souls can never be conquered.”  Yalda narrowed her eyes and stamped a hoof irritably, ears laid back.

“I followed my heart, Anara.  And my heart told me that Razarr could not leave alone.  He loved me, and I loved him back, and so I followed.”  The palomino swished her tail lazily, cocking her head with amusement.

“Ahh… But it was this imperishable love that is what sent you here in the first place, this thing that drove you to gallop after him,” Anara replied with a sly smile.  With an angry snort, Yalda flared her nostrils with fury, anger leaping at her heart.  What did Anara know about this kind of thing?  She was an Immortal, and could never, even in the eternal years of her life, understand what love truly was.  Never understand what drove Yalda to chase after her love, even though she had left her herd to perish as she did so…

Memories.  Those were so long ago, when Razarr and she had only just left yearling-hood, and Orothgar’s father, Kitao, had died and left the position of the Thiskel lead stallion open to his son.  Long ago, when she became the Thiskel Sky-Reader, and held that honor with pride.  And not so long after that, when she felt her heart being drawn to a very handsome black stallion.  And then even further after that, when Orothgar discovered Yalda, the Sky-Reader, had disobeyed The Word of Dorando and fallen in love…

A small sob escaped Yalda’s muzzle, and she found herself shaking.  Anara took a small step forward, then seemed to think other of it, and bowed her head, leaving Yalda to grieve.  “You know,” the palomino whispered.  “There’s another life for you, waiting over the Lorarem.”  Yalda lifted her head, eyes glistening with unthinkable misery.  There was a pause before the gray mare sorrowfully replied.

“My life lies here, with Razarr.  You should know that by now,” Yalda said softly.  “Even when our lives look a turn for the worst, we still stayed together.” Anara fell silent, staring at Yalda with her unquenchable blue eyes.  Outside the brambles, a deep rumble echoed across the hills, and a whinny could be heard from Razarr as the stallion waltzed across the prairie.  The storm was heaving now, and even within the shelter, wind buffeted the two mares.  No light could be seen; only the pulsing glow that came Anara’s shoulder lit the refuge.  Finally, the palomino mare closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Yalda, I do not think you understand what it means for me to have visited you here,” Anara said, opening her eyes and staring at Yalda intently.  Yalda blinked, shaking her mane as she stepped back, gazing at Anara with confusion.  Silence flickered through the bramble cave for a moment before Yalda replied, “I don’t understand.”  Anara gave her a grave smile before bowing her head, ears laid back in sadness.  A drop of rain landed upon Yalda’s back, and the mare jumped, flashing the whites of her eyes as Anara fought for words.

“Yalda, when you ran from Empire-” At this Yalda lifted her head, the sadness in her eyes quickly changing to fury.  The mare seemed to swell, her round, pregnant belly growing to almost twice its size.

“Anara, let us settle this.  I did not run.  I went on my own,” Yalda growled, lashing her tail.  Anara flared her nostrils, pawing the ground impatiently.

“Whatever you did, when you came to the Banishlands, your right as the Thiskel Sky-Reader vanished.  Ever since you galloped over the Pass, you have not been blessed a sign from Dorando or the Immortals.”  Anara took a deep breath, watching as Yalda seemed to freeze as realization lunged at her.  “You have not even had the slightest thought of receiving a sigh from your ancestors, and you have not cared.  Yalda, you stepped down and became a normal horse.”

“But now,” Yalda gasped, blue eyes wide with amazement.  “But now that you’re here that means…” Anara flicked an ear, giving the gray mare a sly smile.  The glow from the Immortal’s shoulder was beginning to shine more fiercely, lighting the small expanse between the two horses.  Anara met Yalda’s eyes, a burning ferocity shining in their depths.

“Yes Yalda, now that I, Anara the Immortal of Light, have come to you, you are once again a Sky-Reader.”  A pause that seemed to stretch for eternity flashed between the two horses, and a clash of lighting from the rain-soaked hills momentarily lit the bramble cave.  Yalda could feel shock crawling through her body, a tingling feeling that seemed to take control of her very soul.  A moment passed before the palomino turned her head, staring out into the bleak, rain-soaked Banishlands.  Yalda flicked an ear, gathering the strength to speak.

“Anara…how…?”  The palomino turned back to Yalda, sorrow swimming in her deep blue eyes.  All was quiet, and Yalda could feel waves of misery falling from the mare.  “How is the possible?  How did you find me?  I thought Immortals weren’t supposed to come to the Banishlands.”  Anara pricked her ears, straightening up and stared at Yalda.  For an instant, a smile seemed to surge across the palomino’s face, but it was gone before Yalda knew it had come.

“Yalda, it is possible because Dorando themselves have declared it.  You were born a Sky-Reader.  That blessing cannot be taken away easily.  Even The Word cannot reprimand it.  And,” Anara murmured quietly. “We’re not.  But because of the circumstances some rules may be broken.”  The palomino shook her mane, light cream tresses flying into the air and then settling back onto Anara’s neck.  Yalda cocked her head, blinking in confusion.

“What circumstances do you mean?” she asked, swishing her tail.  Anara pawed the soft ground, dust leaping from the ground.  Peace fell upon the horses, and the creaking of the brambles was all that sounded.  Finally, the palomino opened her muzzle, prepared to speak.

“Yalda, I want you to understand that life….life will never be the same for you- or your son.  Things will never go the way you wish, and when they do, those moments will never last long.  You are a Sky-Reader now.  You cannot forget Empire any longer.”  Anara looked up, eyes reflecting the great grey storm clouds that surged through the sky.  The palomino was silent, and Yalda couldn’t help but snort with disbelief.

“Anara, really.  I live in the Banishlands.  Life has already taken a turn for the worst,” Yalda said, flaring her nostrils.  “And if what you say is actually true, Empire can live without a Thiskel Sky-Reader.  I know Orothgar doesn’t miss me.”  A booming thunder lashed out at the Banishlands, and Yalda felt herself jump, ears pressing against her neck.  Anara simply watched, boredom flickering across her face.

“You have grown afraid of even the simplest clash of thunder.   I find that sad for a horse that was once so confident in herself.  I know that long ago you would have stayed out in the rain and danced with Razzar.  But, sadly, those days are long gone, Yalda.”  Anara sighed, cream sides expanding and then growing slim once again.  “Long gone, and never to return.  Hopefully not like your relationship with Empire.”  The grey mare stiffened, muscles growing tense.

“Anara, I don’t have a place in Empire.  I was banished, Orothgar would never-”  Anara cut her off with a snort, lashing her tail angrily.  The light coming from the palomino’s eyes seemed to pulse, and Yalda lowered her head, ears laid back.  Fury flowed off of Anara in great waves.

“Excuses!  Selfish!  Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?  What about your foal?” Anara cried irritably, damp leaves flying as she pawed the ground.  “Your offspring deserves better than this.  A life where your foal may grow in the ways of The Word, a life where it may prance with others and live life to the fullest!  Selfish!  What did you do when Razarr was banished?  You thought about yourself, not thinking of what would happen to Thiskel when you left.  All you cared about was that you could be with your love, even if you left chaos in your path.  The world you left is alive. You cannot forget about Empire, Yalda.”  The grey mare pulled her head back as through she had been hit, shock quivering through Yalda’s body.

“How can you say that?” she whispered.  “I care for myself, of course, and Razarr is a part of me.  We live within each other, and without the other, we are nothing.”  Yalda twitched a muscle, eyes flashing with sadness.  “And you are wrong about my foal.  I left Empire for Razarr and my offspring.  I knew that if Razarr and I mated, we would not have Orothgar ruling over our son and teaching him his evil ways.”  Anara stared at Yalda, thoughts clearly galloping through her mind.  Finally, the palomino lifted her muzzle and spoke.

“I will say it one last time, Yalda.  You cannot stay here.  You may not know it now, but you have a large part to play in the fate of Empire, whether you like it or not.  Your foal will play an even larger part, and in the end…”  Anara stopped, choosing her next words carefully.  “And in the end, it will come down to him and the enemy.  You must travel Yalda.  For the sake of you, your foal, and Empire.”  Yalda sucked in her breath, wild ideas dancing through soul.

“But Anara…Even if I did travel over the Pass, I have no where to go.  Thiskel would never accept me, not after what I did, and I doubt that Faldor would shelter me, a traitor of The Word.”  Yalda finished with a sigh, letting her long, grey tail droop.  Anara blinked before letting out a high-pitched whinny and rearing from the ground, hooves pawing the air.  When the palomino Immortal landed once again on all fours, she spoke, her voice not longer serious.
“Forr!  Finally, a little sense pours from your muzzle!  You understand!” Anara cried happily, ears pricked and ferocious blue eyes glowing.  “A life waits for you Yalda, and you are willing to accept it!”  The palomino stomped a hoof, damp leaves breaking beneath her weight.  Yalda looked away, pain clawing at her heart.  She hadn’t said she’d go, but she couldn’t help but realize that the idea was promising.

“Anara…Even if I am, I’m not sure if that life is waiting for me.  Rigsbur would be the best herd to join, but…I don’t know if Faldor would accept me.  Word of my treachery will surely have spread.  Any horse would be able to tell who I am.  And if Orothgar got word that I had returned…” Yalda finished with a small snort, blowing a drop of water from her nose.  “And, what of Zazure?  Rigsbur already has a Sky-Reader.”  Anara flicked an ear dismissively as she studied the gray mare.

“First of all, I worry that you forget what Faldor is like.  He does not follow Orothgar, too smart for that.  It has always been known that the Lead Stallion of the Rigsbur Alpha Herd is forgiving.  If you had a good enough reason to join his herd, then he would accept you.  But if I know Faldor, I know he wouldn’t pass up a foal.  He may be smart, but sometimes greed gets in the way of reasonable thinking” Anara paused, gazing at Yalda’s round stomach.  “And, I’m sorry to inform you, but Zazure has passed onto the ranks for Dorando, not even half a moon ago.  Rigsbur needs a new Sky-Reader.  Faldor will welcome you gleefully.”  Yalda looked up, giving Anara a small smile.  For the first time, a glimmer a hope sprang into the mare’s eyes.

“You believe so?” Yalda whispered, gazing at Anara with delight.  The palomino nickered, dipping her muzzle.

“Yalda, my dear friend, I know so.  But before you agree to leave, you must understand that the road before you will be difficult.”  Anara froze before she continued.  “You will be taunted, scorned.  And you are right that when Orothgar hears of your return, he will do whatever it takes to rid of you.  A dark path may lay before you, but once you take the first hoofstep, everything will follow.”  Yalda lowered her head, gazing at the soggy leaves that lay scattered at her hooves.  Her heart was beating wildly now, dreaming of racing across green hills, Razarr along side her.  Dreaming of a colt to her side, knobby legs balancing a newborn body.  Finally, the grey mare lifted her head, eyes narrowed to determined slits.

“Anara, why are standing here in the rain when another world awaits me?”  Yalda could feel a new soul rising up inside of her.  “Why are we still here, when we can be on the road to a new life?  A life where I may relive my existence and make things right, a life where my son will grow in the ways of the Rigsbur Alpha Herd?  Where Razarr will be taken in as a senior stallion, and I will once again be a Sky-Reader?  Why are we still here, when I may gallop across the free hills of Empire?”  Yalda lifted her muzzle to meet Anara’s eyes, where a joyful shine flashed.  For a moment, only happiness floated in the air, and Yalda could feel a connection that had been long broken being reformed between Anara and herself.

“You are alive again,” Anara whispered finally, swishing her tail with delight.  “You are once again a horse of Empire.”  The palomino gave a small sigh, lightly stomping a hoof.  A crash of lighting flickered across the Banishlands, momentarily blanketing the two horses in an un-earthly shine.  Once it had retreated, Yalda shook her mane, flinging small drops of water across the bramble cave.  Suddenly, flash of worry coursed through her veins.

“A horse of Empire that has all four hooves in the Banishlands,” she muttered, baring her teeth.  “Anara, how will I leave?  How can I convince Razarr that this is best?”  The palomino snorted, the blue glow from her eyes pulsing.

“You will not be the one to convince him.”  Anara twitched a muscle.  “I will.  Razarr will have to understand everything I’ve told you, however difficult it may be.  It’ll be harder for him though.  You know he never accepted the fact that Orothgar banished him.”  Anara finished with a small dip of her head as Yalda bowed her muzzle, all joy washed away by sorrow.  The grey mare knew that it had been hard enough for Anara to convince her that leaving was best and it would be even more of a challenge to encourage Razarr to make the journey over the mountains.

“What will you say?  He will be resentful of any ideas concerning joining a herd that’s not Thiskel,” Yalda murmured.  “And I know he will turn his back to you if you present the idea of Rigsbur too soon.”  Anara nodded, clearly deep in thought.  Yalda took a small step back, feeling soft leaves beneath her hooves collapse under her weight.

“In the end, he will understand.  It’s always that way with stallions.  Brave, strong, trustworthy, but never very smart.”  Anara gave the grey mare a small smile.  “Razarr hopefully will not be much different.  The sooner we convince him, the sooner we can leave, and-”

“The sooner Razarr and I will be on our way to a new life.”  Yalda finished the palomino’s sentence.  Anara opened her muzzle as if she were about to speak once again, but then closed it and dipped her head.  Yalda arched her head, taking this as a sign to continue.  “A world of passion and beauty abandoned me long ago.  Not on purpose, I can assure you that.  No, it abandoned me because of a tyrant whose heart is filled with the darkness of murky waters and the ambition of a cougar.  But that world is ready to take me back, and with me will come my foal.”  Yalda now lifted her head, grey forlock swinging out of her eyes.  “And if my foal is to take down the tyrant, then so be it.  I am Yalda, Rigsbur Sky-Reader and I will hold that honor with pride.”  Anara tossed her head with exhilaration, letting out a high-pitched whinny.

“Forr!  To Empire!” the palomino cried, lifting her front hooves from the ground for a split second.  Yalda imitated Anara, rearing up and pawing the air.

“Empire!”  When the two mares had fallen to the ground, Anara stepped forward, pressing her warm muzzle against Yalda’s cheek.  The grey mare grew stiff for a moment unsure of what to do next, and then dropped her head to nuzzle the Immortal back.  It was as if everything seemed to stop in that single moment, the rain above their heads, the sound of Razarr’s dance, the wind rushing outside.  A bond that had been long lost was twining the two horses together once again, a bond that only Immortal and Sky-Reader could share.  A bond that brought reality and Immortality together to create something wonderful, something that could not be put into words.  Yalda lifted her head slightly to stare into Anara’s unwavering blue gaze, the deep glow lighting the damp face of the grey mare and making it shine.  With a content snort, Yalda tossed her forelock out her eyes to meet the glow, for a moment letting her soul sink into an eternity of blue.  Peace feel across the mares, and no form of words was needed to explain the joy that wound its way like a vine though the two equines.

And then it was as though the world itself began to fall apart.  A huge boom of thunder, louder than any other that had clashed that night, rang across the prairie, shattering the moment the two mares were sharing.  Everything seemed to freeze, and that single moment Yalda would remember for the rest of her life.  Anara jolted her head up, eyes wide and ears pricked, alarm running through her entire body as Yalda jumped, letting out a high-pitched nicker of fear.  The grey mare tossed her head, flashing the whites of her eyes as her light grey mane flew into her face.  As panic coursed between the mares, a bright flash of light streamed into the bramble cave, momentarily blinding Yalda.  The mare reared up, ears laid back and hooves pawing the air franticly.  A shriek of fear and alarm came from Razarr, and Yalda could feel her mate’s terror rushing through her veins.

“Anara?!”  The grey mare stumbled forward, white spots flashing in front of her eyes as the shock of the lightning passed away.  “Anara, where are you?”  There was no reply, only the quick brush of a light cream coat as the Immortal raced out of the brambles, tail held high into the air.  Yalda shook her mane, trying to see clearly as yet another cry came from her mate.  “Razarr!  Razarr, what’s happening?” the mare squealed, the white spots beginning to disappear as she cantered blindly out of the brambles.

Anara was stock-still, tail held high with shock, and as Yalda pulled up next to the Immortal, she gasped.  The two mares stood atop a rise, and below the grassy slope, flames clawed the stormy sky, licking the clouds with red-hot tongues.  Even from the top of the hill, the two mares could feel the heat crawl up their backs, but both equines were too shocked to speak, horror taking away words.  Rain still feel fiercely upon the Banishlands, but no amount of water could vanquish the fire clawing at the sky.  The scent of burning grass filled the air, and out of the darkness came an ear-piercing scream.  In the middle of the circle of flames was Razarr, his ebony coat wet with sweat and rain, hooves tearing the sky into pieces.  The stallion shrieked once more, eyes wide and muscles bunched, ready to spring away if any chance of escape opened.  Yalda could not move.  Fear froze her, her mind gone blank except for one thought: Razarr is going to die.  Nothing mattered now, only the fact that she was outside of the flames, and her mate was within them.

“No,” Yalda could hear herself gasping.  “No. RAZARR!”  The grey mare cried out, a sob escaping her muzzle as she leapt down the rise, hooves kicking up masses of earth.  Razarr.  It couldn’t be happening.  After all that was to come, he couldn’t die down.  There was a life ahead of them, full of joy and peace.  Razarr couldn’t die, he couldn’t…

In the distance, Yalda could hear Anara crying out to her, but it was all in the back of her mind.  The ground beneath her hooves was growing crisper as she galloped to closer to the fire, and Yalda could feel the unimaginable heat making its way up her face.  Horror choked her, and she could hardly gain breath as she neared her mate.  And then, an enormous clash of thunder stormed from above and rain pounded harder into the equine’s back.  For a moment, only the crackling of the flames and Razarr’s cries were the only things that echoed across the plain.  Yalda tossed her head, leaping forward as a flash of thunder struck the ground in front of her hooves, sending a bolt of flame leaping into the air.  The grey mare screeched, falling back as the new-born flames climbed high, tasting the rain with red-hot tongues.  A small gasp came from Yalda as her hooves slipped out from beneath her, and she feel slowly to the ground, crying out as she collided with the grass.  Winded, the mare lifted her head to stare at the flames, eyes reflecting the red and orange glow.

“Yalda!”  The scream came from Razarr.  “Yalda, leave now…It’s no use if you are gone too…I go now to gallop with the stars…”  The stallion’s voice began to fade, replaced by the sharp crack of fire.  Yalda could feel herself shaking, every limb and fiber of her being beginning to collapse.  The mare’s belly rose and feel quickly, gasping for precious air within the choking smoke.  No, Razarr…Come back.  I need you…  Yalda lay her head upon the ground, begging the flames to lick her up and swallow her into their depths.  Rain pounded into her pelt like great ivory hooves, and the grey mare closed her eyes, letting herself fall into eternity.  Suddenly, and great form stood above her, mane and tail waving high into the air, blown by the ferocious wind.  A warm muzzle nudged her gently, whispering Yalda’s name softly into her ear.  The mare shifted upon the ground, nostrils flared, sides heaving with exhaustion.

“Yalda, come.  Get to your hooves.  We can gallop far from this.”  Yalda pricked her ears, opening her eyes to stare at the horse above her.  A blue glow flowed from the equine’s shoulder, and Anara’s entire form was outlined in a red shine.  The Immortal bent her head once more, calmly nudging Yalda to her feet.  As the grey mare slowly got up, she turned her head to gaze at the wall of flame, which leapt and bounded high into the storm like a dance.  Anara brushed against Yalda, beckoning the Sky-Reader to retreat.  The mare didn’t move.

“He’s gone,” Yalda whispered faintly, her voice carried away by the wind.  “It’s my fault.  I couldn’t get to him…”  The grey mare bowed her head, forelock falling gently across her rain-soaked face.  Silence fell though the air, and even the fire seemed to still.  Smoke, like snakes, swirled into the clouds, disappearing into the infinite grayness.  Anara lifted her muzzle to the sky, as though she were expecting a great creature to storm down from the sky.  A low rumble of thunder rolled across the Banishlands, almost as though in mourning for Razarr.  Yalda closed her eyes, letting the black stallion’s last words canter through her mind.  I go now to gallop with the stars…  Was there really a Dorando for him, a heaven where starlight lit the plain and five Immortals watched over all horses?  Yalda lifted her head, staring at Anara as the Immortal scanned the skies.

“What are you looking for?  Razarr won’t gallop there.  He couldn’t make it.”  Bitterness and sorrow rang in the grey mare’s voice.  Suddenly, fury raced though Yalda, and she laid her ears back, baring her teeth in rage.  “You, you and the other Immortals have caused this.  Damn.  How could I have been so stupid?”  Yalda paced forward, tail lashing out behind her.  Firelight danced in her eyes, illuminating the anger that soared within the mare’s soul.  “You caused the lightning to strike.  Barrcen must have created the storm, making it rain.  And Fina…Fina brought the fire.”  Anara dropped her muzzle to stare at the mare, shock flashing in her brilliant blue eyes.

“How can you say that?  How can you say that, when I stand here before you, and the other four Immortals canter in Dorando?  This was caused by nature itself, not by any power of the Immortals.”  Anara turned to face the Sky-Reader, pain etched across her face.  “Fina and Barrcen took no part in this, and neither did I.  We will all mourn for Razarr, but he is on his way to Dorando now-”  Yalda cut her off with a furious snort.

“How can that be?  Razarr died as a Banishland horse.  Won’t he gallop across darkness for the rest of existence?”  At these words, Anara tossed her head, looking once again up at the sky.

“It depends if he will follow,” she muttered, seeming to speak to herself more than Yalda.  “Only he may choose his path.  If Razarr wishes to follow us over the Lorarem Mountains, he will find a way to Dorando.  If not, then yes.  He will live out the rest of eternity in darkness.”  The Immortal grew silent, gazing up at the turmoil of clouds.  Yalda could feel her fury slowly falling away, replaced by anguish.  A sharp crack of flames made the grey mare jump, and spinning around, she pushed herself past Anara and up the hill.

Atop the rise, Yalda lifted her muzzle to the sky, searching the storm for any hint of Razarr.  All that met her gaze was empty grayness.  A small sob escaped the mare, and she bowed her head, staring at the crisp grass beneath her hooves.  He was really gone.  If Dorando is kind, they will welcome him with open hooves to heaven.  Yalda sighed, turning her head to gaze at the Lorarem.  On a clear day, the mountains’ edges were brushed with a deep purple, but now the peaks were a cool gray.  Over those mountains Empire awaited her and her foal.  A land that could possibly be filled with joy and happiness instead of fear and sorrow.  I must leave soon, before the foal is born.  That much was certain.  If her offspring were to flourish, they must know Empire alone, and no life before that.  A coat brushing against her brought Yalda out of her thoughts, and Anara stood beside her, mane blowing in the wind.  Silence echoed between the mares, and all that could be heard was the wild fire below.

“What are you pondering?”  Yalda turned to look at the Immortal, blue eyes glimmering with determination.

“There’s nothing for me here.  I must go.”  The grey mare bowed her head, and then turned back to the mountains, forelock blown out of her eyes, revealing the deep blue beneath them.  A cool storm wind blew across the hill, and Anara nodded, shivering.

“Then we go.”  But as she spoke, Yalda was already making her way past the palomino, nostrils flared and head held high.  The grey mare’s coat shone with a new beauty, muscles rippling under her sleek pelt, ivory hooves leaving hoof prints upon the grass as she cantered.  Anara nickered to the mare, leaping into stride with the Sky-Reader and the two horses galloped freely, eyes narrowed against the wind and ears laid back. The rain began to cease as golden glow spilled from the clouds as the sun poured its light out onto the Banishlands, lighting the path of the two mares.  And so, together, Sky-Reader and Immortal made their way across the rolling hills and towards the mountains, where a new life awaited, coats shining in the sun and ears pricked.

But if you looked carefully, you could make out the faint outline of a black stallion cantering beside them, tail held high and mane blowing in the wind.

Description
Prologue

A cool wind blew across the Banishlands, causing the gray mare atop the hill to shiver.  Winter was retreating, but a deep gloom still flickered over the land. Dark storm clouds loomed high in the sky, and to the southeast, the Lorarem Mountains soared into infinity.  The mare snorted, tossing her light gray mane.  The rainy weather disturbed her.  In a life before, the black clouds above her head would have meant more than a wet coat.  But now, they were a simple sign that a moist night was closing in.

Letting out a deep sigh, Yalda arched her neck to glance at the black stallion that stood at the foot of the grassy hill.  In the shadowy light, Razarr’s coat shone like ebony obsidian, powerful muscles etched out in his fur.  Letting out a high-pitched whinny, Yalda swished her tail, blue eyes flashing.  Razarr lifted his massive head, turning to gaze at his mate.  The stallion returned her call with a snort, bending his neck once more to graze.

Yalda pawed the ground irritably, and then bowed her own head to scent the grass at her hooves.  Although the atmosphere was damp, the mustard-color prairie below her was as dry as desert sand.  And as the gray mare nibbled at the ends of the grass, Yalda winced as it crunched between her teeth, and she quickly spat it out.  There is nothing here but desert grass.  The mare could not remember the last time she had eaten green grass, fresh with the taste of spring.  Laying her ears to her head, Yalda tipped her muzzle to the sky, searching for any speck or hint of blue, but a sinister gray was all that met her eyes.

Yalda’s sides heaved as she gave a deep sigh, and a late winter breeze made its way up her spine, making the mare shiver.  Spring could never come soon enough, especially for a pregnant mare like Yalda.  The light gray mare’s belly was round and full, like it became in the summer, except more swollen than a summer belly could ever develop into.  It was home to Razarr’s legacy, and Yalda couldn’t help but smile to herself.  It was an honor to be the dam of her mate’s foal.

Above the pair, the dark sky let out a low rumble, seeming to shake the Banishlands themselves.  Yalda froze, flashing the whites of her eyes as she lifted forehooves from the ground for a split second.  Below her, Razarr lifted his head, ears pricked and body tense, ready to leap away at the smallest movement.  All was quiet for a moment before Yalda relaxed, letting her muscles slacken.  The wind picked up, fiercer than before, and Yalda tossed her head as her silver forelock blew into her eyes.

The mare lifted her head slightly as in the distance, a flash of lighting struck the ground.  Feeling the hair on her spine raise slightly as electricity blazed through the air, Yalda lifted her upper lip and nickered to Razarr.  The black stallion flicked and ear and turned his head up towards his mate; he too had seen the lightning.  From the top of the rise, Yalda could make out the bright gleam of excitement in her mate’s eye.  Razarr found storms exciting, and while Yalda often took shelter during the rain, Razarr would leap and dance to the beat of rainfall.  Stallions she thought, shaking her mane.

Suddenly, a deep, roaring boom resounded above the two horses.  Yalda let out a shriek, leaping onto her hind legs and letting her hooves paw the sky as yet another roar of thunder bellowed from the clouds.  Falling to all fours, the gray mare bounded forward, hooves pounding into the hillside as she raced towards her mate.  As she reached the foot of the hill, Yalda skidded to a halt, letting out a low whinny as she pressed her face into Razarr’s warm side.  The stallion nickered softly back, nuzzling her mane gently with his velvety muzzle.  The pair stayed there for a moment, pushed against each other, letting their fear be washed away.

Finally, Yalda took a step back, letting her deep blue eyes meet Razarr’s golden ones.  The ebony stallion’s eyes were glazed with compassion, and Yalda reached forward to softly brush her muzzle against his as the heavens tumbled above their heads.  Suddenly, with a low plop, a single drop of water fell upon Yalda’s cheek.  In unison, Razarr and the mare tipped their muzzles to the sky as more rain began to fall.  Letting out a snort, Razarr pulled away from his mate, lifting his head higher and narrowing his eyes.

Yalda swished her tail, pawing the wet grass as rain began to pound into her coat.  “Razarr,” she called, shaking her mane as water made its way through her hair.  “Razarr, come.  Let’s find shelter before the rain creates mud upon the ground.”  The mare stamped a hoof.  “You know I don’t like muck clinging to my pelt.”  Razarr acknowledged her with a single twitch of a muscle, but did not reply.

Yalda snorted crossly, watching as her mate began to paw the ground, as was his custom before a dance.  The stallion then froze, head held high and eyes alert.  A moment passed before the ebony horse reared into the air, hooves pawing the air furiously.  Razarr let out a high pitched whinny, then dropped to the ground and raced forward, hooves making the rain-soaked ground quiver.  Yalda stared as her mate suddenly stopped and bucked, back hooves striking the sky.  Razarr fell to the ground and raced forward again as Yalda turned her back on the stallion and trotted away, nostrils flared.

The rain was falling harder now, and the gray mare had to squint to make out any sign of shelter.  Spotting a patch of bramble some 10 horse-lengths away, Yalda broke into a canter and galloped towards the sanctuary, mane flying out behind her like a flag.  Ducking her head, the mare pushed her way into the bush, but when she tried to straighten, her mane caught in the above branches.  Letting out a snort of exasperation, the gray horse arched her neck, rainwater dripping from the end of her forelock.  Sighing, Yalda closed her eyes and tipped a back hoof, calling on sleep.  Just as her mind began to wander away from reality, Yalda felt another coat brush against her side.  Jolting back to awareness, the mare swung her head to her side, scanning the area for another horse.  But all that met her eyes was dense, sodden bramble.

Yalda could smell her own fear scent as she slowly arched her neck again.  All was deadly silent, and only the deep pounding of rain could be heard.  From outside the brambles, Yalda heard Razarr let out a high-pitched whinny, and the mare couldn’t help but smile to herself.  Yalda knew that this was the time that her mate was happiest, when he could be free and dance and do things that he could never have done back in Empire.  Empire.  The gray mare felt as though hooves had struck her throat, and Yalda quickly swallowed, not letting herself be overtaken be her feelings.  Those days were over now, long past, and the memories were too horrible to ponder upon.  But Yalda couldn’t help but remember the good times in the land over the Lorarem Mountains.  A land where the grass was always green, even in the hottest of summers, and where horses ran across open prairies with wild manes and thundering hooves.

But then there had been life in the Thiskel Alpha Herd, lead by the great bay stallion Orothgar.  Yalda narrowed her ocean-blue eyes and lashed out at air with a back hoof, fury climbing through her veins.  Orothgar, with his fearful stance and unfair laws that struck every horse in a negative way.  Orothgar, who could make you believe an eagle was a fly if he set his mind to it.  Yalda gulped down a sob.  And her mate, who had fallen for his tricks, and in the end paid for it.  A nicker came from Razarr, who was still dancing in the cool rain outside.  Yalda sighed, bowing her head and begging sleep to close in.

“Memories aren’t washed away very easily, are they?”  Yalda jumped as a voice spoke to her, calm and filled with sadness.  Looking up, the gray mare stifled an amazed gasp as she stared at the horse before her.  A light palomino color washed its flank, and the gentlest flicker of cream ran through its mane and tail.  But what really struck Yalda was the horse’s eyes.  A deep metallic blue blazed in the depths of its eyes, but there was no white or black to be seen, just the un-earthly blue.  And upon the left shoulder of the palomino was a symbol: a line went diagonally up to the left, and then stopped and drove straight down.  The vertical line stopped, and from the end of it came another diagonal line rising up to the left.  Finally, from the end of the last line, an upside-down C-shape curved over the main line to the right.  The symbol was the same color as the horse’s eyes, but it let of a strange glow that lit the bramble cave.

Yalda stared at the horse, eyes wide with astonishment.  Silence echoed through the cave, and for a moment, the gray mare forgot how to speak.  “How-Why are you here?” Yalda finally stammered, ocean-blue eyes swimming with confusion.  The palomino gave a small, melancholy smile, dipping her head.

“It has been a long while, Yalda,” the horse murmured, flicking an ear.  “Many summers have passed since we last met, and that meeting was in a simple dream.”  The palomino glanced around the bramble cave.  “You were never meant to gallop to the Banishlands. Razarr alone was supposed to leave, but alas, young souls can never be conquered.”  Yalda narrowed her eyes and stamped a hoof irritably, ears laid back.

“I followed my heart, Anara.  And my heart told me that Razarr could not leave alone.  He loved me, and I loved him back, and so I followed.”  The palomino swished her tail lazily, cocking her head with amusement.

“Ahh… But it was this imperishable love that is what sent you here in the first place, this thing that drove you to gallop after him,” Anara replied with a sly smile.  With an angry snort, Yalda flared her nostrils with fury, anger leaping at her heart.  What did Anara know about this kind of thing?  She was an Immortal, and could never, even in the eternal years of her life, understand what love truly was.  Never understand what drove Yalda to chase after her love, even though she had left her herd to perish as she did so…

Memories.  Those were so long ago, when Razarr and she had only just left yearling-hood, and Orothgar’s father, Kitao, had died and left the position of the Thiskel lead stallion open to his son.  Long ago, when she became the Thiskel Sky-Reader, and held that honor with pride.  And not so long after that, when she felt her heart being drawn to a very handsome black stallion.  And then even further after that, when Orothgar discovered Yalda, the Sky-Reader, had disobeyed The Word of Dorando and fallen in love…

A small sob escaped Yalda’s muzzle, and she found herself shaking.  Anara took a small step forward, then seemed to think other of it, and bowed her head, leaving Yalda to grieve.  “You know,” the palomino whispered.  “There’s another life for you, waiting over the Lorarem.”  Yalda lifted her head, eyes glistening with unthinkable misery.  There was a pause before the gray mare sorrowfully replied.

“My life lies here, with Razarr.  You should know that by now,” Yalda said softly.  “Even when our lives look a turn for the worst, we still stayed together.” Anara fell silent, staring at Yalda with her unquenchable blue eyes.  Outside the brambles, a deep rumble echoed across the hills, and a whinny could be heard from Razarr as the stallion waltzed across the prairie.  The storm was heaving now, and even within the shelter, wind buffeted the two mares.  No light could be seen; only the pulsing glow that came Anara’s shoulder lit the refuge.  Finally, the palomino mare closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Yalda, I do not think you understand what it means for me to have visited you here,” Anara said, opening her eyes and staring at Yalda intently.  Yalda blinked, shaking her mane as she stepped back, gazing at Anara with confusion.  Silence flickered through the bramble cave for a moment before Yalda replied, “I don’t understand.”  Anara gave her a grave smile before bowing her head, ears laid back in sadness.  A drop of rain landed upon Yalda’s back, and the mare jumped, flashing the whites of her eyes as Anara fought for words.

“Yalda, when you ran from Empire-” At this Yalda lifted her head, the sadness in her eyes quickly changing to fury.  The mare seemed to swell, her round, pregnant belly growing to almost twice its size.

“Anara, let us settle this.  I did not run.  I went on my own,” Yalda growled, lashing her tail.  Anara flared her nostrils, pawing the ground impatiently.

“Whatever you did, when you came to the Banishlands, your right as the Thiskel Sky-Reader vanished.  Ever since you galloped over the Pass, you have not been blessed a sign from Dorando or the Immortals.”  Anara took a deep breath, watching as Yalda seemed to freeze as realization lunged at her.  “You have not even had the slightest thought of receiving a sigh from your ancestors, and you have not cared.  Yalda, you stepped down and became a normal horse.”

“But now,” Yalda gasped, blue eyes wide with amazement.  “But now that you’re here that means…” Anara flicked an ear, giving the gray mare a sly smile.  The glow from the Immortal’s shoulder was beginning to shine more fiercely, lighting the small expanse between the two horses.  Anara met Yalda’s eyes, a burning ferocity shining in their depths.

“Yes Yalda, now that I, Anara the Immortal of Light, have come to you, you are once again a Sky-Reader.”  A pause that seemed to stretch for eternity flashed between the two horses, and a clash of lighting from the rain-soaked hills momentarily lit the bramble cave.  Yalda could feel shock crawling through her body, a tingling feeling that seemed to take control of her very soul.  A moment passed before the palomino turned her head, staring out into the bleak, rain-soaked Banishlands.  Yalda flicked an ear, gathering the strength to speak.

“Anara…how…?”  The palomino turned back to Yalda, sorrow swimming in her deep blue eyes.  All was quiet, and Yalda could feel waves of misery falling from the mare.  “How is the possible?  How did you find me?  I thought Immortals weren’t supposed to come to the Banishlands.”  Anara pricked her ears, straightening up and stared at Yalda.  For an instant, a smile seemed to surge across the palomino’s face, but it was gone before Yalda knew it had come.

“Yalda, it is possible because Dorando themselves have declared it.  You were born a Sky-Reader.  That blessing cannot be taken away easily.  Even The Word cannot reprimand it.  And,” Anara murmured quietly. “We’re not.  But because of the circumstances some rules may be broken.”  The palomino shook her mane, light cream tresses flying into the air and then settling back onto Anara’s neck.  Yalda cocked her head, blinking in confusion.

“What circumstances do you mean?” she asked, swishing her tail.  Anara pawed the soft ground, dust leaping from the ground.  Peace fell upon the horses, and the creaking of the brambles was all that sounded.  Finally, the palomino opened her muzzle, prepared to speak.

“Yalda, I want you to understand that life….life will never be the same for you- or your son.  Things will never go the way you wish, and when they do, those moments will never last long.  You are a Sky-Reader now.  You cannot forget Empire any longer.”  Anara looked up, eyes reflecting the great grey storm clouds that surged through the sky.  The palomino was silent, and Yalda couldn’t help but snort with disbelief.

“Anara, really.  I live in the Banishlands.  Life has already taken a turn for the worst,” Yalda said, flaring her nostrils.  “And if what you say is actually true, Empire can live without a Thiskel Sky-Reader.  I know Orothgar doesn’t miss me.”  A booming thunder lashed out at the Banishlands, and Yalda felt herself jump, ears pressing against her neck.  Anara simply watched, boredom flickering across her face.

“You have grown afraid of even the simplest clash of thunder.   I find that sad for a horse that was once so confident in herself.  I know that long ago you would have stayed out in the rain and danced with Razzar.  But, sadly, those days are long gone, Yalda.”  Anara sighed, cream sides expanding and then growing slim once again.  “Long gone, and never to return.  Hopefully not like your relationship with Empire.”  The grey mare stiffened, muscles growing tense.

“Anara, I don’t have a place in Empire.  I was banished, Orothgar would never-”  Anara cut her off with a snort, lashing her tail angrily.  The light coming from the palomino’s eyes seemed to pulse, and Yalda lowered her head, ears laid back.  Fury flowed off of Anara in great waves.

“Excuses!  Selfish!  Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?  What about your foal?” Anara cried irritably, damp leaves flying as she pawed the ground.  “Your offspring deserves better than this.  A life where your foal may grow in the ways of The Word, a life where it may prance with others and live life to the fullest!  Selfish!  What did you do when Razarr was banished?  You thought about yourself, not thinking of what would happen to Thiskel when you left.  All you cared about was that you could be with your love, even if you left chaos in your path.  The world you left is alive. You cannot forget about Empire, Yalda.”  The grey mare pulled her head back as through she had been hit, shock quivering through Yalda’s body.

“How can you say that?” she whispered.  “I care for myself, of course, and Razarr is a part of me.  We live within each other, and without the other, we are nothing.”  Yalda twitched a muscle, eyes flashing with sadness.  “And you are wrong about my foal.  I left Empire for Razarr and my offspring.  I knew that if Razarr and I mated, we would not have Orothgar ruling over our son and teaching him his evil ways.”  Anara stared at Yalda, thoughts clearly galloping through her mind.  Finally, the palomino lifted her muzzle and spoke.

“I will say it one last time, Yalda.  You cannot stay here.  You may not know it now, but you have a large part to play in the fate of Empire, whether you like it or not.  Your foal will play an even larger part, and in the end…”  Anara stopped, choosing her next words carefully.  “And in the end, it will come down to him and the enemy.  You must travel Yalda.  For the sake of you, your foal, and Empire.”  Yalda sucked in her breath, wild ideas dancing through soul.

“But Anara…Even if I did travel over the Pass, I have no where to go.  Thiskel would never accept me, not after what I did, and I doubt that Faldor would shelter me, a traitor of The Word.”  Yalda finished with a sigh, letting her long, grey tail droop.  Anara blinked before letting out a high-pitched whinny and rearing from the ground, hooves pawing the air.  When the palomino Immortal landed once again on all fours, she spoke, her voice not longer serious.
“Forr!  Finally, a little sense pours from your muzzle!  You understand!” Anara cried happily, ears pricked and ferocious blue eyes glowing.  “A life waits for you Yalda, and you are willing to accept it!”  The palomino stomped a hoof, damp leaves breaking beneath her weight.  Yalda looked away, pain clawing at her heart.  She hadn’t said she’d go, but she couldn’t help but realize that the idea was promising.

“Anara…Even if I am, I’m not sure if that life is waiting for me.  Rigsbur would be the best herd to join, but…I don’t know if Faldor would accept me.  Word of my treachery will surely have spread.  Any horse would be able to tell who I am.  And if Orothgar got word that I had returned…” Yalda finished with a small snort, blowing a drop of water from her nose.  “And, what of Zazure?  Rigsbur already has a Sky-Reader.”  Anara flicked an ear dismissively as she studied the gray mare.

“First of all, I worry that you forget what Faldor is like.  He does not follow Orothgar, too smart for that.  It has always been known that the Lead Stallion of the Rigsbur Alpha Herd is forgiving.  If you had a good enough reason to join his herd, then he would accept you.  But if I know Faldor, I know he wouldn’t pass up a foal.  He may be smart, but sometimes greed gets in the way of reasonable thinking” Anara paused, gazing at Yalda’s round stomach.  “And, I’m sorry to inform you, but Zazure has passed onto the ranks for Dorando, not even half a moon ago.  Rigsbur needs a new Sky-Reader.  Faldor will welcome you gleefully.”  Yalda looked up, giving Anara a small smile.  For the first time, a glimmer a hope sprang into the mare’s eyes.

“You believe so?” Yalda whispered, gazing at Anara with delight.  The palomino nickered, dipping her muzzle.

“Yalda, my dear friend, I know so.  But before you agree to leave, you must understand that the road before you will be difficult.”  Anara froze before she continued.  “You will be taunted, scorned.  And you are right that when Orothgar hears of your return, he will do whatever it takes to rid of you.  A dark path may lay before you, but once you take the first hoofstep, everything will follow.”  Yalda lowered her head, gazing at the soggy leaves that lay scattered at her hooves.  Her heart was beating wildly now, dreaming of racing across green hills, Razarr along side her.  Dreaming of a colt to her side, knobby legs balancing a newborn body.  Finally, the grey mare lifted her head, eyes narrowed to determined slits.

“Anara, why are standing here in the rain when another world awaits me?”  Yalda could feel a new soul rising up inside of her.  “Why are we still here, when we can be on the road to a new life?  A life where I may relive my existence and make things right, a life where my son will grow in the ways of the Rigsbur Alpha Herd?  Where Razarr will be taken in as a senior stallion, and I will once again be a Sky-Reader?  Why are we still here, when I may gallop across the free hills of Empire?”  Yalda lifted her muzzle to meet Anara’s eyes, where a joyful shine flashed.  For a moment, only happiness floated in the air, and Yalda could feel a connection that had been long broken being reformed between Anara and herself.

“You are alive again,” Anara whispered finally, swishing her tail with delight.  “You are once again a horse of Empire.”  The palomino gave a small sigh, lightly stomping a hoof.  A crash of lighting flickered across the Banishlands, momentarily blanketing the two horses in an un-earthly shine.  Once it had retreated, Yalda shook her mane, flinging small drops of water across the bramble cave.  Suddenly, flash of worry coursed through her veins.

“A horse of Empire that has all four hooves in the Banishlands,” she muttered, baring her teeth.  “Anara, how will I leave?  How can I convince Razarr that this is best?”  The palomino snorted, the blue glow from her eyes pulsing.

“You will not be the one to convince him.”  Anara twitched a muscle.  “I will.  Razarr will have to understand everything I’ve told you, however difficult it may be.  It’ll be harder for him though.  You know he never accepted the fact that Orothgar banished him.”  Anara finished with a small dip of her head as Yalda bowed her muzzle, all joy washed away by sorrow.  The grey mare knew that it had been hard enough for Anara to convince her that leaving was best and it would be even more of a challenge to encourage Razarr to make the journey over the mountains.

“What will you say?  He will be resentful of any ideas concerning joining a herd that’s not Thiskel,” Yalda murmured.  “And I know he will turn his back to you if you present the idea of Rigsbur too soon.”  Anara nodded, clearly deep in thought.  Yalda took a small step back, feeling soft leaves beneath her hooves collapse under her weight.

“In the end, he will understand.  It’s always that way with stallions.  Brave, strong, trustworthy, but never very smart.”  Anara gave the grey mare a small smile.  “Razarr hopefully will not be much different.  The sooner we convince him, the sooner we can leave, and-”

“The sooner Razarr and I will be on our way to a new life.”  Yalda finished the palomino’s sentence.  Anara opened her muzzle as if she were about to speak once again, but then closed it and dipped her head.  Yalda arched her head, taking this as a sign to continue.  “A world of passion and beauty abandoned me long ago.  Not on purpose, I can assure you that.  No, it abandoned me because of a tyrant whose heart is filled with the darkness of murky waters and the ambition of a cougar.  But that world is ready to take me back, and with me will come my foal.”  Yalda now lifted her head, grey forlock swinging out of her eyes.  “And if my foal is to take down the tyrant, then so be it.  I am Yalda, Rigsbur Sky-Reader and I will hold that honor with pride.”  Anara tossed her head with exhilaration, letting out a high-pitched whinny.

“Forr!  To Empire!” the palomino cried, lifting her front hooves from the ground for a split second.  Yalda imitated Anara, rearing up and pawing the air.

“Empire!”  When the two mares had fallen to the ground, Anara stepped forward, pressing her warm muzzle against Yalda’s cheek.  The grey mare grew stiff for a moment unsure of what to do next, and then dropped her head to nuzzle the Immortal back.  It was as if everything seemed to stop in that single moment, the rain above their heads, the sound of Razarr’s dance, the wind rushing outside.  A bond that had been long lost was twining the two horses together once again, a bond that only Immortal and Sky-Reader could share.  A bond that brought reality and Immortality together to create something wonderful, something that could not be put into words.  Yalda lifted her head slightly to stare into Anara’s unwavering blue gaze, the deep glow lighting the damp face of the grey mare and making it shine.  With a content snort, Yalda tossed her forelock out her eyes to meet the glow, for a moment letting her soul sink into an eternity of blue.  Peace feel across the mares, and no form of words was needed to explain the joy that wound its way like a vine though the two equines.

And then it was as though the world itself began to fall apart.  A huge boom of thunder, louder than any other that had clashed that night, rang across the prairie, shattering the moment the two mares were sharing.  Everything seemed to freeze, and that single moment Yalda would remember for the rest of her life.  Anara jolted her head up, eyes wide and ears pricked, alarm running through her entire body as Yalda jumped, letting out a high-pitched nicker of fear.  The grey mare tossed her head, flashing the whites of her eyes as her light grey mane flew into her face.  As panic coursed between the mares, a bright flash of light streamed into the bramble cave, momentarily blinding Yalda.  The mare reared up, ears laid back and hooves pawing the air franticly.  A shriek of fear and alarm came from Razarr, and Yalda could feel her mate’s terror rushing through her veins.

“Anara?!”  The grey mare stumbled forward, white spots flashing in front of her eyes as the shock of the lightning passed away.  “Anara, where are you?”  There was no reply, only the quick brush of a light cream coat as the Immortal raced out of the brambles, tail held high into the air.  Yalda shook her mane, trying to see clearly as yet another cry came from her mate.  “Razarr!  Razarr, what’s happening?” the mare squealed, the white spots beginning to disappear as she cantered blindly out of the brambles.

Anara was stock-still, tail held high with shock, and as Yalda pulled up next to the Immortal, she gasped.  The two mares stood atop a rise, and below the grassy slope, flames clawed the stormy sky, licking the clouds with red-hot tongues.  Even from the top of the hill, the two mares could feel the heat crawl up their backs, but both equines were too shocked to speak, horror taking away words.  Rain still feel fiercely upon the Banishlands, but no amount of water could vanquish the fire clawing at the sky.  The scent of burning grass filled the air, and out of the darkness came an ear-piercing scream.  In the middle of the circle of flames was Razarr, his ebony coat wet with sweat and rain, hooves tearing the sky into pieces.  The stallion shrieked once more, eyes wide and muscles bunched, ready to spring away if any chance of escape opened.  Yalda could not move.  Fear froze her, her mind gone blank except for one thought: Razarr is going to die.  Nothing mattered now, only the fact that she was outside of the flames, and her mate was within them.

“No,” Yalda could hear herself gasping.  “No. RAZARR!”  The grey mare cried out, a sob escaping her muzzle as she leapt down the rise, hooves kicking up masses of earth.  Razarr.  It couldn’t be happening.  After all that was to come, he couldn’t die down.  There was a life ahead of them, full of joy and peace.  Razarr couldn’t die, he couldn’t…

In the distance, Yalda could hear Anara crying out to her, but it was all in the back of her mind.  The ground beneath her hooves was growing crisper as she galloped to closer to the fire, and Yalda could feel the unimaginable heat making its way up her face.  Horror choked her, and she could hardly gain breath as she neared her mate.  And then, an enormous clash of thunder stormed from above and rain pounded harder into the equine’s back.  For a moment, only the crackling of the flames and Razarr’s cries were the only things that echoed across the plain.  Yalda tossed her head, leaping forward as a flash of thunder struck the ground in front of her hooves, sending a bolt of flame leaping into the air.  The grey mare screeched, falling back as the new-born flames climbed high, tasting the rain with red-hot tongues.  A small gasp came from Yalda as her hooves slipped out from beneath her, and she feel slowly to the ground, crying out as she collided with the grass.  Winded, the mare lifted her head to stare at the flames, eyes reflecting the red and orange glow.

“Yalda!”  The scream came from Razarr.  “Yalda, leave now…It’s no use if you are gone too…I go now to gallop with the stars…”  The stallion’s voice began to fade, replaced by the sharp crack of fire.  Yalda could feel herself shaking, every limb and fiber of her being beginning to collapse.  The mare’s belly rose and feel quickly, gasping for precious air within the choking smoke.  No, Razarr…Come back.  I need you…  Yalda lay her head upon the ground, begging the flames to lick her up and swallow her into their depths.  Rain pounded into her pelt like great ivory hooves, and the grey mare closed her eyes, letting herself fall into eternity.  Suddenly, and great form stood above her, mane and tail waving high into the air, blown by the ferocious wind.  A warm muzzle nudged her gently, whispering Yalda’s name softly into her ear.  The mare shifted upon the ground, nostrils flared, sides heaving with exhaustion.

“Yalda, come.  Get to your hooves.  We can gallop far from this.”  Yalda pricked her ears, opening her eyes to stare at the horse above her.  A blue glow flowed from the equine’s shoulder, and Anara’s entire form was outlined in a red shine.  The Immortal bent her head once more, calmly nudging Yalda to her feet.  As the grey mare slowly got up, she turned her head to gaze at the wall of flame, which leapt and bounded high into the storm like a dance.  Anara brushed against Yalda, beckoning the Sky-Reader to retreat.  The mare didn’t move.

“He’s gone,” Yalda whispered faintly, her voice carried away by the wind.  “It’s my fault.  I couldn’t get to him…”  The grey mare bowed her head, forelock falling gently across her rain-soaked face.  Silence fell though the air, and even the fire seemed to still.  Smoke, like snakes, swirled into the clouds, disappearing into the infinite grayness.  Anara lifted her muzzle to the sky, as though she were expecting a great creature to storm down from the sky.  A low rumble of thunder rolled across the Banishlands, almost as though in mourning for Razarr.  Yalda closed her eyes, letting the black stallion’s last words canter through her mind.  I go now to gallop with the stars…  Was there really a Dorando for him, a heaven where starlight lit the plain and five Immortals watched over all horses?  Yalda lifted her head, staring at Anara as the Immortal scanned the skies.

“What are you looking for?  Razarr won’t gallop there.  He couldn’t make it.”  Bitterness and sorrow rang in the grey mare’s voice.  Suddenly, fury raced though Yalda, and she laid her ears back, baring her teeth in rage.  “You, you and the other Immortals have caused this.  Damn.  How could I have been so stupid?”  Yalda paced forward, tail lashing out behind her.  Firelight danced in her eyes, illuminating the anger that soared within the mare’s soul.  “You caused the lightning to strike.  Barrcen must have created the storm, making it rain.  And Fina…Fina brought the fire.”  Anara dropped her muzzle to stare at the mare, shock flashing in her brilliant blue eyes.

“How can you say that?  How can you say that, when I stand here before you, and the other four Immortals canter in Dorando?  This was caused by nature itself, not by any power of the Immortals.”  Anara turned to face the Sky-Reader, pain etched across her face.  “Fina and Barrcen took no part in this, and neither did I.  We will all mourn for Razarr, but he is on his way to Dorando now-”  Yalda cut her off with a furious snort.

“How can that be?  Razarr died as a Banishland horse.  Won’t he gallop across darkness for the rest of existence?”  At these words, Anara tossed her head, looking once again up at the sky.

“It depends if he will follow,” she muttered, seeming to speak to herself more than Yalda.  “Only he may choose his path.  If Razarr wishes to follow us over the Lorarem Mountains, he will find a way to Dorando.  If not, then yes.  He will live out the rest of eternity in darkness.”  The Immortal grew silent, gazing up at the turmoil of clouds.  Yalda could feel her fury slowly falling away, replaced by anguish.  A sharp crack of flames made the grey mare jump, and spinning around, she pushed herself past Anara and up the hill.

Atop the rise, Yalda lifted her muzzle to the sky, searching the storm for any hint of Razarr.  All that met her gaze was empty grayness.  A small sob escaped the mare, and she bowed her head, staring at the crisp grass beneath her hooves.  He was really gone.  If Dorando is kind, they will welcome him with open hooves to heaven.  Yalda sighed, turning her head to gaze at the Lorarem.  On a clear day, the mountains’ edges were brushed with a deep purple, but now the peaks were a cool gray.  Over those mountains Empire awaited her and her foal.  A land that could possibly be filled with joy and happiness instead of fear and sorrow.  I must leave soon, before the foal is born.  That much was certain.  If her offspring were to flourish, they must know Empire alone, and no life before that.  A coat brushing against her brought Yalda out of her thoughts, and Anara stood beside her, mane blowing in the wind.  Silence echoed between the mares, and all that could be heard was the wild fire below.

“What are you pondering?”  Yalda turned to look at the Immortal, blue eyes glimmering with determination.

“There’s nothing for me here.  I must go.”  The grey mare bowed her head, and then turned back to the mountains, forelock blown out of her eyes, revealing the deep blue beneath them.  A cool storm wind blew across the hill, and Anara nodded, shivering.

“Then we go.”  But as she spoke, Yalda was already making her way past the palomino, nostrils flared and head held high.  The grey mare’s coat shone with a new beauty, muscles rippling under her sleek pelt, ivory hooves leaving hoof prints upon the grass as she cantered.  Anara nickered to the mare, leaping into stride with the Sky-Reader and the two horses galloped freely, eyes narrowed against the wind and ears laid back. The rain began to cease as golden glow spilled from the clouds as the sun poured its light out onto the Banishlands, lighting the path of the two mares.  And so, together, Sky-Reader and Immortal made their way across the rolling hills and towards the mountains, where a new life awaited, coats shining in the sun and ears pricked.

But if you looked carefully, you could make out the faint outline of a black stallion cantering beside them, tail held high and mane blowing in the wind.