She hadn’t been sure of whether she intended to join Carwyn and Brennen in Nerine – neither one of them had really asked her, so much as assumed she would continue to float along in their little family unit with no objections. So the purple girl had lingered instead in the Forest and the Meadow, stubborn, trying to figure out how to earn back her powers from the Fae, so that she could convince the ghosts to help her find her mother instead. Because while Kellyn wasn’t the greatest mother, and hadn’t bothered to come looking for Cassady, going to live with her would hurt and annoy her little sister and her grandfather, and Cassie wanted to make them work harder to get her to come with them.


It was wrong of them to assume she’d follow them. To assume she had no goals, or life, or aspirations of her own.

The purple ghost-girl lasted several months. She lasted until it became very clear that she was pregnant. And then she lasted through winter, through growing unwieldy and fat, and until her own dark thoughts of her mother caught up to her. Kellyn was a subpar mother, but Brennen had loved them and raised them. Cassady didn’t forgive them for leaving her behind, but she didn’t know how to be a mother by herself. Once again, she needed them.

The weather is growing steadily warmer, spring firmly here, when she finally wanders into the seaside Kingdom, following the path Carwyn had described for her. The thing growing inside of her has been active today, kicking and moving, and she is slow as she wanders the sand, wondering why someone would do this more than once. It’s uncomfortable, and it’s painful, and it’s unpleasant; and then it is suddenly so much more. The steadily increasing pain has plagued her all day, but now it spikes and nearly drives the purple girl to her knees, leaving her gasping. The girl lifts her brown gaze to the horizon seeking shelter but nothing immediately catches her attention and she can’t wait any more.

She lowers herself to the ground, and doesn’t remember much more after that. Not until she comes around again, blinking through the haze, sweaty and exhausted, and stares at the little dark creature sprawled on the ground behind her. A colt, she notes distractedly, and rolls onto her belly to nudge at him, cleaning some of the birth gunk from his face, and his neck, and admiring the bright color of his mane and tail that matches hers.

cassady