In the dawn, the land below seemed quiet and still. Leander soared overhead, wings outstretched to catch the smallest currents. It was a habit of his to survey new places from above – he liked to see the big picture first before anything else. The splashed stallion found it made navigating foreign landscapes easier once he’d alighted. In any case, he preferred the clear air up here.
He had journeyed with the winds for years, covering immeasurable leagues in search of somewhere he had yet to find. Leander believed it was only a matter of time until he found what he was looking for. Despite the extent of his nomadic explorations, he was the son of Riagan and Rayelle and therefore could hardly be anything but steadfast in optimism and unfailing in promise.
His parents had always intended to return to their homeland – to Beqanna. Ever since he was born, they’d told him all about it. The Dale and the Falls, the Jungle and the Chamber. The meadows and the fields. Events – ascensions, descensions, wars and allegiances – that had become its history. But what they’d always spoken of most with Leander was his family.
The stories he’d heard were countless. Of course they told him of his elder twin sisters, Rhy and Kora, and explained why he’d been born outside of Beqanna at all. They spoke of his grandparents (Edmond and Neraza; Rhaego and Kagerou), and told him tales of his many aunts and uncles (Conner and Nylee; Alysanne the swimmer; sweet Kavi and Rodrik the lion). They taught him the names of a myriad of cousins – at least, the ones they’d known of prior to their leaving – and made mention of family friends and other acquaintances, too.
Yet by the time Leander grew old enough to make the journey back, age had also crept up on Rayelle and Riagan. Still, they were determined – and, following old memories of home, the three traveled together for some months. It was in the last few weeks that Leander came to realize just how little time his mother and father had left. And though it had been many years since their passing, it still caused a pang in Leander’s heart.
He sighed then, the sound lost in a billowing draft as he circled and tucked his wings for descent. There was a swiftness and an ease to him which was only apparent while airborne. Once afoot, Leander wasn’t much out of the ordinary. His eyes were a plain brown, inherited from his father – ‘kind eyes,’ Rayelle had been fond to call them. And when the palomino overo alighted in a clearing he’d chosen for the figures he’d seen milling about from the sky, he folded his wings and carried himself to the nearest stranger without pretense.
“Excuse me,” he said, “But could you tell me where we are? I’m not from around here.”
