[open] peace is a bird who sings

[Anaxarete]

HELLO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND “Welcome Aedan. You come today in good company,” she says in a way that could almost be interpreted as pleasant. Isilya is one of the very few capable of instilling surprise in the shadowmare. Her ear twitches ever so slightly when she references her beautiful friends. The little magician is perhaps the only one who would ever refer to her creatures as such. She has heard them called any number of things - but never beautiful. Not by anyone other than herself, that was. Anaxarete, however, saw a very different beauty than Isilya in the otherworldly creatures. But she is more than aware that Ryatah’s blood runs through Ripley’s veins, and that Aedan has no knowledge of the creatures at all. How could he, a child of new Beqanna.  So she offers an explanation to the trio - the first she’d ever offered so freely.  To Isilya for her lack of judgment, to Aedan for his simple curiosity, and to Ryatah for the simple reason that after all this time she deserved it. ”Yes, creatures,” she begins - feeling that perhaps after all this time Ryatah should know what had happened to her daughter. “The first was mortal once. I found her, attempting to isolate herself. The creature within was consuming her from the inside out. Driving her mad. Killing her.”  There’s no exaggeration. The memories have not faded for Anaxarete. She knows they never will. “I intervened, and in doing so the monster consumed the mortal. When she awoke - she had no self control, no mortality, no memories. So I bound myself to her. And to her children. Both to keep them safe and keep others safe from their impulses.”  This too, was true. Though it wasn’t to say that this bond hadn’t been advantageous to her throughout the years. “Now they live here,” she said, gesturing to the expanse of Pangea before them.  She draws to a halt before one of the life-giving creeks that feed into Pangea’s primary river. The shadowmare does not turn to gauge the reactions of her retelling of Ripley’s rebirth. Instead, the dappled mare dips her head, taking a quick pull from the cool water before returning her attention to her guests. “Please accept my congratulations,” she says, with a small dip of her head towards the little magician, upon learning of her ascension.  Isilya as queen of Tephra is intriguing to her, and in that intrigue there lies opportunity.  “I wish both you and Tephra well in your future endeavors.”  Her gaze flicks between the three, her mind shuffling through the new possibilities unfolding before her. “As for an alliance - I certainly think that would be mutually beneficial to both Tephra and Pangea,” she says, offering a small smile to the plant magician and her companions. A N A X A R E T E

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