“I heard voices coming from the Inlet.” Maziel announced to both Nephilim and Mariael, staring off with blind, milk-blue eyes into a direction that was between them rather than pointed on either of them. Nephilim stilled, glancing at Maziel and wondering… when he’d visited the Inlet upon their return to Tinuvel it had been empty, as if Pagan and his family had never lived there at all. If Pagan resurfaced, he wondered why the stallion had not come by the Bay. If he had not, he wondered who it was who had taken his place and whether Tinuvel would stand united still.
As he had relinquished control of the Bay in allowing his daughter, Mariael, to rule, it was ultimately her choice as to how Tinuvel might function and how the Bay may fit into the puzzle. Not that Nephilim wouldn’t try and convince his daughter and whoever took the Bay to find harmony together so the island might be strong against the rest.
“We should go. They’re closest to us, if they’re going to be a threat we need to know to watch them. If they’re going to be an ally, it would be good to know too.” Mariael said, lifting her chin and pointing it toward the Inlet. “All three of us – we were born of Tinuvel, you’ve been here most your life,” her blue eyes flicked to her father and back to the Inlet again.
“You’re right.” Said Nephilim, and began walking forward. Mariael moved up a few steps until she was leading the trio, Maziel to her left and Nephilim to her right. They picked their way expertly along the easiest path toward the Inlet, winding along until they reached the seaside territory where the rivers of Tinuvel pooled out into the ocean. As respectful neighbors all three came to a halt right at the borders.
“It’s not Pagan.” Said Nephilim quietly, realizing he couldn’t scent the large stallion on the wind – only a mare, maybe another stallion but both unfamiliar to him.
Mariael lifted her head and called out, her bugle echoing across the frozen land.
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