Texas isn’t fond of the Field, but it’s a necessary evil. For some reaon, this plain little meadow is where the newcomers to Beqanna gather, mingling with those natives in search of a new home. Texas has never been here for the such reasons – his intentions have always been much more self-serving. Today though, he is here for the kingdom and not for himself, a rare occurance.

The lanky stallion is all too aware of the autumn season, and while the urge to herd away mares never truly fades from a stallion’s mind, Texas has had nearly two hundred years to practice ignoring it.

His attention is caught by a buckskin mare, her golden coat striking against the fiery leaves of the fall. The bay stallion moves from his vantage point on a small hill, walking towards the mare and offering her a friendly nod of greeting. “Hello there,” he says, “My name’s Texas.” He pauses a moment, giving her time to introduce herself if she plans on doing so. “Are you here looking for a home?” In most contexts, such a question might be rude, but this is the field, and there is really only one reason why others come here. They might be fleeing some terrible past or seeking out new adventures, but this is where they always pause before proceeding.

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The buckskin mare is polite, a trait that makes the whole meet-and-greet process infinitely easier. While Texas has more than his share of experience when it comes to dealing qith other horses, he’s found that he prefers them polite, sarcastic, or perfectly silent – there are few middle grounds. “Nice to meet you, Cheveyo.” He replies.

Having given her time to consider his question, he listens curiously as she answer. She’s unsure, which is’nt really surprising. Texas imagines that if a stranger approached him and offered him a home he’d be rather hestaint, unless the stranger was an attractive mare, and then he’d be likely to follow her anywhere. He’s clearly very good at priorities and judging the danger level of complete strangers.

“I live at the Dazzling Waterfall,” he says, and for a moment it feels strange to not describe it as the non-mythic neutral kingdom. There are no divisions anymore, at least not divisions that Beqanna wanted. “It’s a small kingdom.” adds the bay stallion in his slow drawl, “Have you lived in a kingdom before?” There are places, he knows, where herds are all that they have. The idea of larger entities like kingdoms are unfamiliar, but he knows better than to presume.

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Though Texas had been born in a herdland beside the Vivid Sea, the existence of kingdoms had always been an accepted – though rarely acknowledged – part of his existence. The land he was raised in was under the jurisdiction of the Chamber of Evil, but even then the monarchs of the kingdom rarely bothered with the small herd lands under their control. As an adult he’d claimed the Wildflower Plateau, and had been perfectly content living the life of a small time herd stallion. But life has a way of turning desire’s on their heads, and Texas had found himself living in, and ruling over, the Dazzling Waterfall. Over a century has passed since the first time he considered himself a kingdom-type of horse, and despite all the kingdoms and lands he’s lived in since that first time, he’s back again at the Dazzling Waterfall.

“It used to be one of the neutral kingdoms, so we’ve never been as passionate about war as the Valley or the Chamber, nor quite as pacifistic as the Gates and the Deserts.” That had seemed like a good explanation when he’d been saying it, but as he lists the other kingdoms to a mare that is likely unfamiliar with them all, he realizes that perhaps it’s not quite as good as he’d thought. “Those are other kingdoms, by the way. There are eight; The Falls is just one of many.” He pauses for a moment, just to be certain he’s not talking too much (an unforgiveable sin, clearly)

“Like I said, it’s small; you’re unlikely to get lost in the crowd. The waterfall itself is magical, capable of healing any injury of ailment.” There, those are the finer points, at least as far as recruitment goes. He’s not quite defined the difference between a kingdom and a herd though, so he adds: “A kingdom has a caste of warriors and diplomats that herds lack, but day-to-day life is much the same if one’s not practicing their caste’s skillset. Does that sound like something that might interest you?”

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It takes time to make a decision, especially one like this, so as the mare deliberates Texas looks out at the mountains horizon. He’s not in any rush, except to get back to the kingdom before nightfall and that is still several hours away.

He looks back when she begins to speak, his dark eyes curious as he listens to her decisions. While he’s not entirely surprised – the kingdom is wonderful, after all – it’s still something of an ego boost t ohave successfully convinced someone to come and see the kingdom. “I think you’ll like it too,” He says, nodding his head agreeably.

The bay stallion takes a few steps to the side, toward the general direction of the kingdom. “I can show you the way now, if you’d like?” He offers. He’s not entirely sure she wants to come right away; if she’s new to Beqanna there are a dozen places to explore before truly settling in. He remembers to add at the last moment that: “If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to stay.” Herds are different, subservience to the lead stallion often subsumes the desires of the rest of the heard. It’s not a bad thing – at least not for stallions like Texas – but he doesn’t want Cheveyo to feel trapped. “Unless you decide to serve the kingdom rather than just live there, there’s nothing to keep you there. Well, except for me, I suppose.” He offers her a wink, clearly well aware of his good looks but with no intention of taking his jest any farther.

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“You’ve just lived in herd then?” He asks. The question is rhetorical – why would she not know what a kingdom was if she hadn’t only lived in a herd before? – and he’s speaking aloud more than really asking. “Do you think you’d want to join either of the castes?” He’d mentioned them briefly before, the warriors and the diplomats, but hadn’t made any attempt to gauge her interest in participating. Their army consists of three horses, but they’ll in need of diplomats as well. Texas might be clever, but he’s never been possessed of the silver tongue required to be appropriately political. T comes with the territory of not especially caring if he’s liked or not, which is an excellent life strategy, but perhaps not the best for building ties between kingdoms.

As they talk, Texas leads the way to the Falls. It’s the kingdom nearest to the Field, and the trip is short. The move through the woods that create the edge of the kingdom lands, and then along the river that flows from the waterfall itself. It’s a quiet walk, for the herd lands under the governance of the Falls are as quiet as the kingdom, but there is plenty of wildlife. Eventually there is a sound like constant thunder, and it grows louder as they continue upriver.

They round a bend in the river, and there it is – the Dazzling Waterfall. Over a hundred feet tall, and falling down a cliff face comprised of sparkling quartz and granite, is the feature the gives the kingdom its name. The water falls into a pool so deep that light does not reach the bottom, and around it a wide meadow spreads in all directions before being swallowed up by a forest comprised mostly of old growth oak and beech trees. “What do you think?” he asks, gesturing at the view.

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