Jetta

Summer was in full swing on the islands, and the air was crisp, fresh, and scented pleasantly with pine. Upon returning to the Peak, having swum a little ahead of the Ridge mares to arrive first, Jetta had breathed it all in with relief. Though Atlantis (and its caretaker) were beautiful, the heat and humidity had been stifling, and it felt good to be home again. Perhaps someday she would return to explore the strange feelings that Ailill had awoken in her, but for now, with her best friend at her side in the place of her birth, Jetta had reflected that, at last, her heart was content.

She had sought out her mother immediately, to no avail, and neither could she find the prime minister. Up and down the mountain Jetta had searched until her sides were lathered with exhaustion. She had been about to give up and rest when her nose caught a familiar scent, which she followed to discover Diamant, her young brother-uncle. The colt had grown since she'd last seen him, and was tall and impressive; she had to remind herself that he was a stallion now. But there had been a childlike fear in his amber eyes which Jetta did not understand until he broke the news to her.

"Ink-, I mean, Mother... She passed away. Gent found her a few days ago."

Jetta would reflect later how strange and intriguing it was that everyone processed grief differently. Diamant informed her that Argento, their youngest sibling, had seemed unnervingly cavalier about the whole thing, and had tried making jokes to deflect the gravity of the situation. Diamant, in contrast, had become angry. It was wrong, he'd told her in that soft voice of his, that fate had robbed him of his chance to forgive Inka for what she'd done, and to make amends. Jetta had listened to Diamant for a long time, and then they cried together. Shortly after that the young stallion had left, though he was not certain where he would go.

Jetta did not know how long it was that she spent in a state of numbness. Having shed every last tear she had left in her, and having attempted to rest her exhausted body to no avail, the mare had taken to wandering the peak, walking without point or purpose. She prayed for a vision of her mother to appear before her eyes, so that she might spend one last moment with her - even if it was only a product of her delusional brain - but nothing appeared, and Jetta continued to aimlessly wander the foothills of the Peak alone.

At some point she became aware of the presence of other horses in the distance. Jetta stopped to watch them half-heartedly, and eventually came to realize who they were. Without a second thought she approached, faintly conscious of the fact that she probably looked awful but helpless to do anything about it. "You made it," she said in a tired voice, and attempted the faintest of smiles. Her blue eyes were rimmed red as they regarded her companions, and her expression was far away, with only a fraction of its usual kindness to brighten it.