Falls

One day a week, Oswin left the islands and returned to the Mainland. If she had the energy, she might run to cut her travel time down as she moved from the beach to further inland, seeking out a forest with great tall pine trees and high snow-melt fed creeks which grew lush vegetation. There she would spend hours before she made her inevitable return to the islands.

“Is she there?”

“I haven’t gone to Tinuvel yet, but by word of mouth it would seem Mariael is queen once again.”

“And Maziel? Zevulun?”

“Likely both with her, you know they’d never separate.”

“When will you go to Tinuvel? I need more than word of mouth. I need to know they’re all okay.”

“Soon… I’ll go soon. I promise.”

A pause held between them. Oswin glanced upward into the trees, watching two grey squirrels chatter as they ran through the branches.

“Have you seen any of the others?”

Sometimes he asked about them. Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes the guilt of his children lay heavy enough on him that she imagined his mentality couldn’t bear the burden of the others he felt he’d let down. Oswin lowered her chin and let her eyes find his disfigured face. It was still difficult to look at sometimes… unsettling; permanently marred flesh, a stump for an ear, and a gaping, empty black hole where a golden eye had once been.

“No.”

He lowered his head. Oswin knew hearing no news of those who occupied his thoughts – Rohanne, Dances, Sai, Aubrey, Nova – was both a blessing and a curse. She thought of Nova, and considered telling him what she’d recently learned. But Oswin knew Nephilim wouldn’t be capable of doing anything and even if he was, Nova wouldn’t want him butting in. Oswin would help her sister if her sister needed help. Nephilim’s chapter in Nova’s life had closed, or at least that’s how Nephilim had told it during those nights he’d told Oswin everything.

“I need to go.”

Her voice was soft. She hated leaving him. He nodded, saying nothing in return. His demons would be unwelcome company for him that night.

Salt water ran in little rivers off her angular, lithe body as Oswin pulled up the shoreline of Crossing Isle. A few cracks of her tail sent little bits of water flying this way and that. Turning her head, Oswin peered across the channel of water she’d just swam, thinking of that tucked away forest and the disfigured, lame stallion barely surviving within it.

She had asked him many times if he would return to the islands with her, but the answer was already the same. He doubted he could make the swim. He couldn’t live on Tinuvel – he was too weak, a liability. He couldn’t be of any use to the Lagoon and had little interest living a life as one of the bachelor stallions. He was dead weight, he insisted, and would be no use to any herd on the islands.

Oswin moved into the clearing of the Falls, the most populated meeting area on the main island. There was still a bit of grass which hadn’t been grazed down. Oswin moved for it, dropping her head and snagging the rich, bittersweet blades between her flat teeth. She wasn’t aware if any of her Peak sisters had noticed her frequent disappearances, but doubted they’d paid it any mind. Their numbers were small enough at the moment, Oswin didn’t think they cared. From time to time in her moments of grazing she lifted her head, chewing idly and glancing curiously around her for a familiar face, or even anyone who appeared lost and perhaps in need of a helping hand.