For the first time in as long as she can remember, fear grips her soul. Like a twisting vine of thrones, dread tangles itself around her heart and threatens to stop the breath in her lungs. Guilt fills her gaze as the stallions part to reveal the fragile sight of Darshan’s figure nestled in the tall grass. Fear rims her silver blue eyes in white as she inhales a sharp breath and rushes forward, cursing herself for not noticing the golden mare’s failing health sooner. How could she have missed this? The weariness in her dark eyes…. The dullness in her shimmering coat? How had she not realized it before?

’You have always been with me Larka’ the words choke away any that her guilty mind manages to drag to the surface. How she wished they were true. Maybe if they had been, Darshan would not be in the situation she was in now. Maybe if she HAD been there, Darshan would never have left and Balor would never have gone to search for her. If she had only been there. Darshan’s warm, familiar breath against her skin feels foreign. Instead of the cloak of comfort she normally felt, now there is only a chill of fear and foreboding dread. Something was wrong. Every fiber of her body screamed it even if her eyes refused to acknowledge it. A waning smile curves across her ash dusted lips as tenderly she traces the curve of Darshan’s cheek as exhaustion drifts her away into silent slumber. Nestled close, Larka contents herself only in the rise and fall of the golden mare’s chest. ’Please… please…. Not her…. Not now.’ the silent prayer cries desperately from her mind to whatever silent gods above might be listening. ”Not yet.” she murmurs silently to herself as carefully her silver white neck stretches out to rest her own small muzzle close to Darshan’s. The rest of the world is forgotten. Zevulun, the children, even the nameless gray stallion lingering nearby. It is only Darshan.

Hours pass before the golden mare begins to stir awake again. Immediately Larka lifts her own head, and shakes away the exhaustion that seemed to have drifted over her. She had slept? It must have been so for the setting sun had disappeared and only the faint silver blue glow of moonlight lit the world around them. She does not need to look for Zevulun to know that he is still there, the faint shuffle of his hooves as he shifts his weight the only audible sound beyond them. The stranger is still there too, Larka can smell him and while it causes her stomach to twist in disdain, he is not the one she is here with. Darshan speaks, her soft tones graveled from the strain put on her body and spirit. Tentatively Larka stretches forward to brush her ashen muzzle against Darshan’s. The request sounds so small, so normal and yet Larka does not miss the foreboding sense that hangs around them. A sad smile tugs at her lips, ”Of course I will my Love. I would rather be nowhere else than with you now.” she croons, tucking closer still to Darshan’s swollen frame.

For a moment, no words passed between them. For a few moments, Larka forgets the strain that hangs in the air and instead finds her gaze searching the stars as together they had always done. Shamwari’s star is there, shining bright and blue. Just above the black treetops she can see Sanibel’s star, its faint pink glow twinkling in the dark blue canvas above. Already dawn was beginning its approach, the dark skies brightening over the eastern horizon. Darshan speaks again and Larka turns to gaze into those deep blue green eyes in search of answers that she knows the golden mare will not give her. Small raven tipped ears tilt backwards. ”I remember….” she murmurs, her soft smile growing as she blinks away the gathering tears. ”I was lost then. I was afraid. You were my strength as you have always been since….” she continues her voice drifting again as Darshan begins to speak again.

For the first time, the weight of what she fears begins to set in. As if reaffirming her own dread, Darshan pleads for forgiveness amid choking sobs that draw forth her own silent tears. Silver blue eyes blink away the salty tears as she cranes her silver white neck possessively over the golden mare, tucking her close. ”Please…. Darshan! You cannot talk this way. It is only exhaustion, nothing more.” she whimpers, hoping against hope that the optimism in her voice might somehow lend strength to the fragile form at her side. Darshan lifts her weary head to gaze at her and yet somehow Larka cannot find her eyes. It is almost as if the golden mare looked into her soul in that moment and breathlessly she let the tears fall in silent rivers down her cheeks. Defiantly, she shakes her head as Darshan whispers her command. Larka could not help it. She was nothing without the kathiawari mare with her. ”No. Darshan no!” she pleads but even the plea falls on deaf ears as Darshan continues, beckoning her to look after Sitara. Of course she would look after Sitara, she would continue to treat the girl with the same adoration and protectiveness as she always had. Sitara was no different than the children she had borne herself. She was the precious star and Larka loved her as she loved all their children. The desperation of the request forces her hand. Breathlessly she closes her eyes and nods her head, ”Of course I will remind her….” she begins. ’But you can remind her yourself.’ she wants to say the words, they hang on the tip of her tongue. Before she can find her voice for the words, the metallic scent of blood fills the air and again Darshan is lost to the throws of labor. Pain etches itself in every fiber of her bone weary body as she tenses for each contraction as they come in more rapid succession. Larka is reduced to helplessness as she croons softly into the sweat-darkened neck. Darshan’s head drops to the earth and Larka rises, to give the mare room, hoping that that was all that she needed. Room to breathe. White rimmed eyes roam over the fragile form, searching for a way to help her but knowing that there is nothing she could do.

The next words Darshan speaks quickens the beat of her own heart. ’I’ll go searching for Sanibel soon, Janaam….’ Panic leaves her breathless. ”No Darshan please! Please… stay with me!” she sobs as despair washes over her like the rising tide. Her plea falls on silent ears as Darshan beckons to the distant horizon and despite herself, Larka turns her gaze.

The first light of the morning sun makes their appearance above the distant horizon, the bright pink and gold rays lighting a path across the prairie grasses and illuminating their world once more in color. It was a sight that they had shared together countless times before and yet in this moment, there is nothing as breathtaking and painful. Tears stream freely from her eyes as Darshan speaks a final, parting breath and then grows still. The final sigh from her lips evaporating into the cool morning air and leaving in its wake only a squirming, mewling filly. Darshan was gone.

For a moment Larka is frozen in time, caught between staring at the pale filly and the lifeless form of Darshan. She watches as the filly kicks and wriggles until, still covered in afterbirth, the creme filly manages to sit up in the churned and blood soaked grass. ’Jaya…’ that was the name Darshan had given her. Jaya. She had given her life to bring this child into the world and although she promised to watch over the children she cannot help but to blame the innocent. In that moment, with that realization, she hates herself. It is only the touch of Zevulun that stirs her awake. With a start she shivers at his touch, her silver blue eyes wild with sadness and pain. Raven tipped ears lace backwards, disappearing beneath the thick mantle of obsidian mane that frames her elegantly dished face. Fire blazes in her eyes as she shies away from him, her bright eyes focused on the stormy stallion across from her. ”YOU!” she shrieks, leaping over Darshan and the child to come to a fearsome halt in front of the stallion. She draws herself up, her anger and hatred and sadness and guilt all amassing in a massive tidal wave that directed itself at Romulus. ”This is YOUR fault!! She should never have had to carry another child. She was too tired… you… YOU.. you made her!” she screams tears blurring her vision as she wheels around to once more let her eyes fall on the still form of Darshan. ”Oh Darshan…. Darshan.” she chokes, falling to her knees to cradle the stiffening form in her embrace one last time. ”Darshan….”