Falls

Darshan was still on the islands. The news that Zevulun had given her had truly rocked her small world. It had been easy to think that Darshan had disappeared off the islands. After Balor’s demise, Larka felt certain that what she told herself must be true. It was the only explanation as to why the champagne mare had left the Prairie without a word. Her dreams left her believing that somewhere beyond the mainland, beyond her eye’s view, Shamwari and Darshan were reunited and exploring the wide world. Together. That little bit of knowledge had given her comfort and solace when she found herself wallowing in the depths of despair.

In hindsight, she wished she had taken the news better. She felt like a fool now, making such lame excuses to get out of Zevulun’s company. It was not his fault and yet she felt almost certain that her words had made him feel that way. The gap between them was growing, despite her best efforts to mend it. She had excused herself and fled with an urgency that had not been known since the days when Liland haunted her footsteps. For the first time in years, she needed to be away from Luthien.

___

Water clung to her silver coat as she dragged herself breathlessly from the surf. Crystal droplets dripped from the curling ends of her obsidian mane as slowly she drew herself away from the shore without even bothering to stop and give herself a shake. She needed to get away. She needed to breathe. The turmoil she felt within weighed heavy as stones on her heart as she strode purposefully through the meadows of knee high green grass. She was careful to skirt the common fields, knowing all too well the dangers that such a place carried. Though she told Zevulun that she wished to live in the Prairie for the rest of her days, there were no marks of claim or scent of a stallion on her skin save for the gentle but brief embrace from Zev. With fall in full swing, no stallion would hesitate to claim her, even an aging creature such as herself. No, her destination was the Falls.

It has been years since the last time she found herself standing at the base of the rushing waters. Despite the years, not much has changed, and that brings a gentle smile to her lips. A heavy sigh escapes her now as she slows, stopping on the sun-warmed sands that edged the pool of water. Sunlight dappled her alabaster coat as pale silver-blue eyes lost themselves in the ripples on the water’s surface. Here, where neither Zevulun or the other members of the Prairie could see her, Larka allows herself to dwell on her thoughts. Crystalline tears carve intricate pathways down the sharp contours of her finely dished features as the sobs seize her. Darshan. She had not been lost. She had chosen to leave. She had chosen to leave Larka behind. Falkor and Sitara, they had been left behind too, left to Larka to care for and to guide. Countless days she had made excuses for her, blamed her broken heart and the need to find Shamwari. She told them that if she could have been there Darshan would, told them that the golden mare would move heaven and earth to be with them. She had been wrong.

”I was wrong.” she whispers, staring back at the rippling reflection in the water.