where have you gone my feather-light heart?
Fall had a death-grip on the blind mare, causing everything bright and beautiful about her to wither and die like the leaves of the deciduous trees that carpeted the ground wherever she walked. The ferocity that had enabled her to survive while she carried Ravena in her womb fled from her, and the stories that she told her daughter, adventures about love and hope, of how good triumphed over even the most insidious evil… The stories withered and died too. She felt the change happening within her own body, and it terrified her.
Echo had begged her silent companion to help her, but he had recoiled and distanced himself. If not for the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to leave her in such a vulnerable state, her persistence would have driven her from her side. As it was, she was in turmoil, and it took all of her strength not to fall to pieces in front of her daughter. But Ravena was a smart girl, and she knew something was wrong. Why else did she not protest when Echo said they had to be apart for a little while. I’ll be brave, mama, I promise. And Echo found the words tangling in her throat, threatening to choke her, and she merely smiled brokenly as her precious girl brushed away the tears that tracked down her cheeks.
It was better this way, for the both of them. After all, it was only a matter of time. Her father would track her down, just as Eastwise’s father had. Echo couldn’t lose her precious girl too.
“Take me there. Take me to the Ridge,” she’d demanded. It had taken her reaching to nip at his shoulder – pinching his skin ‘tween her teeth (but not enough to draw blood, she could never truly hurt the ne who’d protected her) for him to finally give in. “If you just did what I asked, I’d stay here with you,” she’d tried pleading one last time. But no amount of persuading would convince him (and Echo would never be able to understand why), and he relented to her whims.
Perhaps she was crazy, but no-one would ever be able to understand… Fear had a hold on her, had her by the throat, and in the cold silence of night, when her daughter and guardian rested peacefully, she’d stand awake, exhausted and hyper-alert, flinching at every sound, her heart sent racing into such a frantic beating she thought it’d burst from her chest. She’d cried so many tears, holding them in so as not to disturb the others, that her lungs and chest ached, and her throat became raw and ragged from the fear that threatened to break her.
They made landfall on the shore of the Ridge, and Echo drew in a great lungful of air, finding solace in the familiarity of it. Twice before she had been here, but this time, she intended to stay if she was welcomed. (If the patient mare who’d greeted her briefly last time still governed here, Echo had faith.) This land had once been home to her mother, and it was here that their small family had been reunited. Surely they’d come here looking for her, sooner or later.
Echo felt the silent stallion approaching her, and turned to stop him. “You can go,” she told him, but when he snorted and remained beside her, a familiar warmth that no longer brought the comfort it once had, Echo pranced away, squealing in irritation. “I said go, just leave me!” And turning her back on the sound of the ocean, she hovered a moment, as if giving him one last chance. But there was another snort, and the sound of splashing water, and Echo knew she was alone. Drawing in a deep breath (fighting always against that fear), she took a few tentative steps forwards, and called out in a tremulous voice. . “Hello, are you there? Do you remember me?” A pause, in which her ears turned this way and that, straining to listen for any kind of answer. . “I… I need your help, please.”
Echo
YOU MUSTN’T FORGET WHAT LOVE CAN SEE
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