It had been time for a change. You know what they say, the grass is always greener on the other side. But the thing was, she didn't really have much of an idea of what the other side was. The other side, this land she stumbled upon definitely wasn't bad though, that was for sure. The land stretched on for miles before her. It was beautiful, gloriously so. Every inch of the place was unknown to her, a location she had never wandered upon. The earthy smells invaded her flared obsidian nostrils, and the moist dirt sunk under her hooves. Long limbs elegantly make their way through the land, chilled by the slight cold of winter.

It had been a long time since Empyrea had thought of just getting up and going, almost a year she had ponder the thought. In the land she had came from pas he had been heir to the throne, heir to a dying land. There was no glory in the dying light, let alone if she died with it. The land was so dull that there was no real point in calling it as such anymore, only a ghost town remained and even that would soon no doubt disappear too. The ghost town's strict rules acted as though the land was still in its prime, not the wasteland that it had become. It acted as if maybe, just maybe if they held on hope they'd all come back.

How sad.

She was meant for more than vacant lands and dusty skies. She was born a princess, meant for better than what the barren lands could produce. She was meant for lands of vast oceans and sweeping plains with horses of fire and ice. She was meant to feel alive, and no one would take that away from her. She refused to let herself crumble like the kingdoms ruins. There had not even been a reason to stay, all acquaintances of any worth and her dear stallion had left long ago and Empyrea had supported them, helped them in doing so. The only regret the Arabian mare had was not joining them at first opportunity. So why hadn't she? She guessed somewhere deep down perhaps she had held out hope too, a small flicker of a flame in the depths of her heart. It was ridiculous really, but does one not grow attached to memories of worth and where they came from?

She finds herself at a lagoon now. It smelt of many horses although the scents were overpoweringly male. It did not bother her anymore and so she waited quietly beside the waters to be approached and feel remnants of the burning sensation that once coursed through her veins. She wanted to feel alive again.