Desreal: Saphira, our mommies want us to talk;

Wish upon a shooting star;
For dreams and things that never are.

Wandering. That’s what Courage seems to be doing a lot of lately. Her mind is on a constant need to meander about subjects she either had no business paying attention to or was absolutely on target with familiarizing herself with. The sunlight had faded; it always seems to be night in Desreal. Shadows slid across the dark corridors of the landscape, hindered only by the moon’s silver touch and the sparkle of the night’s almost black comforter. Courage is not a child anymore; she’s actually going to be a mother to a grandchild that is in every way going to be a handful and something great at the same time. This night serves as her time to discover herself in utter solitude as the nocturnal creatures were waking from their daily slumber and going about in their cautious and trepid movements. The night is a beautiful thing that darling Courage can rightfully appreciate. Her thoughts continued to wander, even after she wove her path to the nearby stream. As her mind lingered on her mother – yes tonight is a night where her thoughts are on things she shouldn’t ponder – she constructs a replica of her mother out of the simple pond’s waters. The replica comes to life as Courage smiles at it, wishing for just a moment that it were really Genesis. The great white mare was immortal, though, and had every right to give her rights of guardianship over to Courage’s father Fantome. But he didn’t want her. Hence, she was in Solira.

But Courage is not alone. In a moment, something struggles to free itself from the groping treeline. Whatever it is, it’s larger than she is. A pair of blue eyes can be seen from within the dark fathomless shadows, and for a moment Courage’s heart skips a beat. Genesis. Mother. There is hardly another thought before those hopes are shattered and the image of Saphira comes into view. Honestly, the two mares are quite similar and both legends in their own homes. Ironically enough, Genesis’s power was to bring the dead back to life by sacrificing another life. Perhaps that was why Courage had always looked up to the sable and ivory mare. But at the moment, she cannot speak. There is a grave amount of disappointment that distorts her features as she watches the other mare. Her lightning might interfere with her water, but Courage’s fire immediately heats the air, with her water thickening the air with a steam that penetrates the skin. There, hidden beneath the angel that is Courage, is a rage that has not ever been seen on her. She wants to hate Saphira, wants her to know that she not only walked out on Solira but on everything Courage and Marshall held dear. Oh, and don’t get her started on Marshall. Her best friend and somewhat adopted father had been rejected by Saphira, when he was too good for her in the first place.

The air boils, and the steam settles onto the skin, a heating that beats and penetrates to the bone. ”You coward,” she said through what would seem to be tears. But she holds her ground and budges not an inch, even if Saphira could kill her so easily. ”You just left us with that monster Ozymandias! Pirate was already gone, and you just left. How could you?” The accusations fly without warning, and the golden mare of Solira cannot believe how angry she really was at the dark and pallid mare. But it was true. She’d left them all to the wrath of Ozymandias and his cronies (we point to Alcatraz for evidence). Courage was on the border of tears, but they were forced away as Nidor Nex continued to boil the air around the two.

AP: C O U R A G E

Water III | Fire II

Nidor Nex