The wounds that Beqanna has endured have been quietly festering but the time has finally come to heal them. There had been no signs that this important task would happen today, of all days - at least not for most. There is a catalyst, of course, but as far as the rest of Beqanna is concerned the day ends normally. The sun sinking below horizons that have not always had these same shapes and stars come out shimmering over bays that have only existed for a handful of years.
It’s about halfway through the night when this night of all nights begins to differentiate itself from all the rest. The starlight begins to brighten - silvery light washing over everything in Beqanna until every leaf and blade of grass is clearly visible and the waves everywhere seem to dance with a little more vigor although there is only a gentle breeze.
There are no clear summons this time, no trail to follow. Wherever you were, wherever you might have been out for a walk or a dream, you find that when you pass the next tree you are on the banks of what used to be the meadow - where the forest should ease into golden and green grass dotted with flowers but instead is a vast lake that glows in the strange starlight.
There are two shadows lying on the bank there - stark in their blackness against everyting else that is more illuminated.
Several small silvery sprites sprout from the dancing waves and the light that had been glittering there. They spin over the bodies - revealing details.
The black, octopus-skin of the mare and her twin heads, the contrast of the storm-grey feathers of the stallion against his white mane. It becomes evident as the sprites move over the scene that the water around them is not black from the night, but a deep red. The queen of the ocean, a councilmember from the sky - neither had gone peacefully and the signs of struggle are evident. But were they struggling from each other? Or was there another party at play here?
This scene agitates the lights and the scene intensifies further. Brighter light from above, the water surges and pushes the bodies further up onto the beach, and the sprites moving faster in erratic patterns around.
This is a dangerous night and many more will follow if this mystery isn’t solved. Beqanna doesn’t deserve the war this will cause - not for this world that isn’t even its own. Not for a feud so ill-defined, one with beginnings no one can remember.
The erratic flight patterns of the sprites changes abruptly and they rise and fall to form a spinning circle over the sand - wide and tall enough for two horses to walk through side by side with ease. Looking through it, one would not see the bright silver night that exists on this side - just a murky haze of clouds.
The intent is clear enough and the sprites begin to make encouraging chirps and sounds - asking the brave or the just curious to step through the portal and discover what is on the other side.
