Falls

What makes life worth living to you? Immediately, the face of Rivaini filled his mind. The autumn-red color of her skin marred by the odd white stripes, one passing through each sapphire-blue eye. But more than her physical appearance, he could remember the fierce expression that hardened the planes of her face when she stood between Iscariot and any perceived danger. Or the warmth that had softened her gaze and curled her lips upward during the rare solitary moments they’d stolen back home. The frigid front that much of the world saw was different than the sister that the perlino stallion had grown up with - as if he alone could be trusted with everything that she was; her strengths and weaknesses, her joys and her sorrow. As if her heart belonged to him, and him alone.

Rhadra’s question is no question at all; there is only one thing that he has lived for. Iscariot would move mountains for his sibling, even knowing that the efforts could cause him to crumble. “Until we were separated, only the love of my sister had ever made me feel that all of this,” the creamy stallion drew a broad curve in the air with his muzzle in an all-encompassing gesture, seeking to indicate not their surroundings, but life in general. “Was worthwhile. She is more than just a relative by blood - she’s the family I chose.” Iscariot wondered if Rhadra had experienced rejection similar to the one that he’d felt from most of his own family - is that why they both spoke of home with such resentment? And had she finally found what she was seeking here?

Before he could ask, however, the dark mare asked another question of him. Iscariot’s lips tugged downward at their corners as he considered his answer carefully. In truth, he had never put his own needs first, focusing instead on satisfying the needs and desires of those around him. But over the past few days - and especially over the course of his conversation with Rhadra - Iscariot had learned, and grown. “I want to reunite with my sister. But I think...that I would like to add more to our family. I think there may be others here who have been hurt, and who may feel as if they aren’t worthy of another’s love. If I could, I would bring them together so they could learn otherwise.”

It was a noble goal, to be certain. Most stallions gathered mares for the esteem it brought them, and to pass along their genes. Iscariot had no interest in the trappings of power, and refused to entertain the possibility of siring children who might be born to suffer from the same affliction that he did. Instead, his interest lay solely in protecting the weak and downtrodden such as himself - though he would make a poor guardian himself, given his physical limitations. But once the seed was planted, its roots could not be prevented from spreading and filling his thoughts even as - with a glance up at the slowly-descending sun - the perlino stallion realized that his time with Rhadra was drawing to an end. He needed to return to the beach; Faolain might be searching for him even now, frantic with worry.

“I have to go,” Iscariot admitted in a tone laced with regret. “But I should like to visit your Peak sometime Rhadra - if they wouldn’t mind a visitor, of course.” Edging forward cautiously, Iscariot extended his muzzle toward the black mare’s, though he left the final decision of whether they would touch lie with her. Exhaling his breath in a gentle sigh that would bathe Rhadra’s skin in warmth, he spoke softly; almost shyly. “You’re a rare kind soul, Rhadra. Should we never find each other again, I wish you all the happiness that your heart can hold. But if we do - perhaps I will be able find a way to repay all that you’ve given me. Thank you.”

His final piece said, the almost-white stallion turned to go, feeling the cold for the first time in what seemed like hours as he began to walk away. But even with the sorrow of their parting, Iscariot’s soul was lighter as he trotted off into the trees, buoyed by hope.