It had been a long, long time since this black stallion last felt the soil of Beqanna beneath his hooves. Long might have even been an understatement… it had been several decades, perhaps even a century. Lately though, he had felt a curiosity tugging within him… a strange desire to seek out the land he once knew. But he didn’t know if that world still existed, as he had occasionally wondered if the population of magical horses had since desecrated the land. And even if the world still thrived, he doubted that any of his old acquaintances still lived there, much less remembered him. He hadn’t be a very social guy back then… or more specifically, he felt no calling to involve himself with the game of thrones that the rest of his family seemed so enraptured by. In fact, he had wondered… would he even be able to recognize Beqanna again if he came across it, or had things changed so much that he would pass it by, ignorant to its identity?
These were the unexciting ponderings of the black horse as he discreetly wandered the shadows at the meadow’s edge. Occasionally, he peeked into the clearing between the trunks of the trees, but made no distinct motion to enter. After all, this meadow seemed like any other meadow he’d seen in his travels, and by now, they all blurred together. Though, he noted with some quiet amusement, this meadow certainly had some horses that were rather… unique. Definitely some strange characters, but nothing that sparked enough interest for him to investigate further.
And so he trudged along, hugging the perimeter of the meadow. Yet, right at the turn back into the forest, back to his nomadic journeys, he paused. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply, drawing the crisp morning air into his lungs. His eyes snapped open. Hidden amongst the summer aromas of lilies and honeysuckle was the faint wisp of something strangely recognizable. He couldn’t quite put his hoof on it though. Curious, he found himself turning back towards this meadow, wandering slowly towards the clearing.
It took only one step back onto the familiar damp grass of the meadow for him to be certain: this was Beqanna. This was the land of his youth.
B E R L I N
remember me for centuries