Few entered into this land without Magnus knowing about it. When he was not in the field, he was wandering the borders. His schedule had become the one he had maintained in the Gates, and something about the familiarity was helping to burn back the edges of his depression. He rose at dawn when the fog crawled out from the base of the volcano, when the sky was dim and the only sound was the soft exhales of breath from Tephra’s sleeping residents. He liked this hour best and often indulged in spending a while wandering amongst the vegetation and horses before he turned his nose toward the border and beyond.
It was rare for him to still be here in the afternoon, like he was now, but he was glad that he was when he saw the mare wander across the border. One ink-dipped ear flicked forward in curiosity as he considered her, wild looking and foreign. When he felt confident that she posed no threat, he shifted his weight and began to pick his way over toward her, navigating around the thin fingers of magma as they ate their way through the landscape. When he had drawn near, he dipped his handsome head in greeting, his smile both crooked and charming. “Hello there,” he stopped and gestured around them. “Welcome to Tephra.”
The land was, like her, wild. Nestled beneath the foot of the volcano, it was not a land for the weak of heart or the anxious. In that, it reminded him of the jungle. Still, those who could brave the bite of sulphur in the air and the fear of smoke plumes when they crawled into the air were richly rewarded. The volcanic soil was rich and teemed with bountiful life, the vegetation lush and plentiful. He did not love it, not fully yet, but he was growing fond of it. He brought his gold-flecked gaze back to her. “My name is Magnus.”
magnus
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