As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.

Librette is never very far from the border. Despite the gentle blanket of magic that Eight has wrapped around the kingdom, alerting him to all movement in or out, Librette still takes it upon herself to be the greeter as such.

And so it is that she is among those closest to the border when Vampyric crosses in. Her warrior's senses immediately know that another horse approaches, but it takes her other senses a moment to catch up. Her nostrils flare, she picks up the distinctive scent, and her eyes go wide.

How could she ever forget Vampyric? The two mares had not seen each other in an eternity, but the child-queen would never fade from Librette's memory. She had served Vampyric for longer than she'd served anyone else. In her mind, Vampyric had always been the shining beacon of kingdom leadership, the queen that she always wanted to be. She couldn't say she had ever come close, but she could say that she had tried.

And so it is now that she forgets herself completely, breaking into a strong canter as she moves toward her long-ago friend. Vampyric looks much like she remembers: the same eternal, angelic features. To look at her from the outside, Librette would barely know anything had changed. Librette is the opposite. She is still the same unremarkable chestnut that she's always been, a muddy red-brown that is entirely nondescript. Her glorious hawk's wings still fold across her back, tucked to her barrel. But now a white scar slashes across her chest, cutting right across her heart. That is the mark of magic (well, the first kind of magic) – of death by Core, and revival by the Valley.

She slides to a distinctly graceless halt at a fair distance from Vampyric. So many questions race through her mind – would her long-ago friend even remember her? Did she even have the right to speak to Vampyric, after how badly she's failed at leading the Valley herself? But in the end, all of that is secondary to the overwhelming desire to once again speak with one of the few horses she's ever called a friend.

"Vampyric!" she cries, and her voice is too high, too excited, comical almost. It's more excitement than grown mares are supposed to have. She closes the distance between them, stopping at a reasonable range for conversation. She wants to reach out and hug her queen, but she can't really figure out how to do that without it being terribly awkward. And so she holds back, almost bouncing with excitement.

And then, in typical Librette fashion, she is completely unsure what to say.

There is so much she'd like to say, and it all tries to come tumbling out of her mouth in a rush, leading to none of it really making any sense. "I…we…" and finally she shakes her head as though to clear her thoughts, and tries again.

"It's so good to see you again." she is smiling, genuinely smiling, a rare thing for the awkward girl. "How have you been?"

Don't weep for me

LIBRETTE

Because this will be the labor of my love.

Image copyright FFFiiiAA