welcome to my dark side. [open]

[Salomea]

Anger still hums in my throat and it is with wild, glittering eyes that I round on the sooty-gold stallion. He inspects me with obvious concern, no doubt drawn by the chaos of the snickering Niklas’ dirty prank. I take a moment to appreciate his battle-scarred form, the weight of years of experience that I have yet to possess heavy in the lines of his body. Ignoring the thrill of pleasure that flashes hot through my veins underneath his disapproving stare and the husk of his voice, I instead focus on the tension in his tone and his intrusion on family matters. Never mind that he does not know, could not know. Accustomed to companions who already know what I am thinking, whether by instinct or directly invading the privacy of my mind, I draw back to lash out at him with my lack of social skills. Before I can make more than a strangled sound, though, Set speaks up. “She will chew you up and spit you out, son.”. His grin widens impossibly and he winks at me before turning away, his goodbye-for-now resonating in my head as I watch him go, eyes flaring wide in open disbelief.   The wind has been effectively removed from my sails and it is a few heartbeats before I remember him. Magnus. I had known my family and I would go our separate ways once we reached Beqanna. Looked forward to it most days, even. But now that the time had come – I turn quickly, suddenly remembering my uncle, seeking Niklas dark form in the shadows. But he’s gone now, too. Unsettled by the deep sense of loss, I turn to Magnus. “Salomea,” I bite off by way of introduction, unable to keep the distress from my voice. I flinch at the sound of another approaching, still on edge from Niklas’ latest prank and he and Set’s subsequent desertion, but the mare approaches us directly, without threat. There is a strange lilt to her voice – concern? – and I glance back toward the buckskin a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed and seeking an anchor now that both of mine have gone. As broken as they (we) were, they were all I’ve had … “I think so,” I finally answer him, my voice more subdued than I feel. I turn to the mare warily. “My grandfather, Set, and my uncle, Niklas.” Our journey and the night’s events weigh heavily on me, exhaustion sunk into my every bone, dulling my anger and acute sense of abandonment.