Oh, the Mountain.
For Lilliana, Beqanna's pivotal peak is a physical representation of the oldest (and perhaps purest) law of Magic. She doesn't know what originally made it rise, if there was a fable behind why it stood. She doesn't know if the Mountain has been there since the creation of the land itself - that if one morning the Sunrise dawned on a newborn Beqanna and it was already there or if it rose with the land in more recent times - like the Reckoning. Maybe, she had wondered, for the years that passed, it climbed another inch into the blue-sky heavens.
(Once, Lilliana might have even wondered if the Magic fed on the wielders or if the wielders fed the Magic.)
Her first time at the Mountain had revealed Tir's gift, her healing. The second had been a calling from the Mountain itself and Lilli still dreams about Craft's death. About her sinking into the golden dunes with a blazing sun in the hazy, arid background to symbolize the life that had been leaving the palomino mare. That quest still wakes her some nights and leaves her alone in the dark, leaving her alone to remind herself that Craft and Anatomy survived.
That she had too.
Lilliana's mind isn't on those things today, however. The once-Ambassador of Taiga had a let a southerly patrol drift further than intended and once she realized that that the border of Tephra was close, the red-gold mare had lingered there before deciding to cross it. Kagerus and Solace had taken up residence in Tephra, she recalled. It was where the dream-weaver had last told Lilliana she could find her. So the Taigan had crossed the border with the hope of finding the two-toned mare. Even if the day is dying, her hope at finding Kagerus is just dawning.
The hope that lights her face - transforming the weariness that has come to rest there - is bright. All she sees is the proud outline that she assumes is the former Caretaker. Lilliana approaches with a quicker step and as her head raises, the flame-marked mare nickers quietly into the night. "Kager-," and then stops herself - both literally and physically. This is not the Dreamweaver. "My apologies," the former Diplomat offers, recovering herself. "I thought you were somebody else."
Twilight deepens around them and it invigorates her other senses. The clear, pristine scent of water lingers nearby. A sulfuric smell wafts on the wind, most likely from one of Tephra's lava streams. Her nostrils are flaring and taking this in while her blue eyes remain on the bay mare. Something about her - for as much as @[Warlight] brings an inkling recollection of someone else to mind - seems off. "Are you... alright?"
LILLIANA
if i ever get to heaven
i've got a long list of questions