To the Lovers left behind (Magnus, any)

[magnus]

It seemed like decades ago since Magnus had seen Becca or Johnathen—another lifetime. Back when he had been helping the Gates ready for war, when he had been serving next to Wichita and underneath Mast. Before he had been ripped from this dimension and trapped in another. Before he had been spat out again and left to face an abandoned, divided, aching kingdom. Before Beqanna had ripped herself apart.

That is not to say that he had necessarily forgotten the boy, but he wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, and he certainly had no immediate way of connecting that coltish figure to the significantly more mature stallion standing there now. Magnus heard him call out as he made his way around the land, and he lifted his head, tilting it slightly in thought as he considered its source. His name had been called with some level of familiarity, but he couldn’t place the voice or the figure standing there. He frowned slightly.

Shaking the dust from his coat, Magnus made his way over toward Johnathen, replacing the frown with a more neutral expression, gold-flecked eyes friendly but openly curious. “Hello there.” He wondered if the stallion was another visitor from another kingdom, or if he was simply there to learn more about Tephra. It was rare but not unheard of for someone to simply make up their own mind about a home while skipping the more traditional trip to a field. “Is there something that I can do to help you?”

out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know
I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll