Hidden Ashes, a Wings of Equinox Short Story, Part Three: A Friend

Burning.

She writhed in her sleep as the images of burning pegasi haunted her dreams.

Only this time, it wasn’t just the battle.

She saw Kestrelmist, fighting an Equinoxian stallion. She’d only managed to singe his golden wings when a gray form shot towards her, knocking her out of the sky.

She saw the face and recognized it as Grayfeather. The stallion that Kestrelmist had singed the wings of was Eaglecloud.

She dipped down, flying after her fallen sister. Her wings slowly melted away and she screamed as the flames started to consume the rest of her. But Grayfeather hadn’t torched her– it was Mapleberry, burning her own sister. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop.

But instead of falling to the ground, she fell into the open mouth of a yawning dragon. The evil, red eyes flickered and a cruel smile formed on his scaly lips.

He spoke to her without moving his mouth: You’re mine, Mapleberry. Not even the King can save you now.

Then he torched her in fire with one flick of his slippery tongue. As the fire licked around her and began to melt her skin, she heard that cruel voice again.

Your sister’s death is all your fault.

And then she screamed. Not from the fire, or the pain. From despair.

She had killed her twin.

***

Mapleberry found that there was much to learn about being a Healer. There were, as it may, a lot of differences between a Healer and a Mansha.

Manshas, back in her old herd, used magic as well as herbs to heal, as well as inquiring old sources for “gifts” of healing. Healers in Equinox may have one or two Talents, as magic was called here, that related to their practice, but they mainly used herbs. Morningbird, as Mapleberry found out, was very good at her job.

The hollowed out sycamore tree acted as the center of their practice. Mapleberry learned the names of the herbs and what they were used for. Morningbird was patient and kind and despite her best efforts and confusion over why they would let a cripple have such an important job, Mapleberry found herelf liking the old mare.

Morningbird spoke of the King every day. And every day, Mapleberry got the same feeling that she did the first time He was mentioned. It was like her soul was struggling, unsure with what to do with this new truth. Her wounds healed, but the memories and sting that the battle left cut deeper than any wounds.

And she couldn’t get rid of the nightmares.

“So, how are you enjoying Prairie Tribe?” The somewhat irritable voice of Eaglecloud poked its way into the door with his head. A limping bay stallion with feathers like a red hawk stood next to him.

“Hawkthorn, what did you do?” Morningbird sighed.

The stallion ducked his head. “It’s kind of stupid, really. We were racing…”

“And he tripped.” Eaglecloud finished.

“Grayfeather is not going to be happy with you two.” Morningbird shuffled around the tree, sniffing herbs. She handed him white willow leaves and then turned to Mapleberry. “We need more arnica. You know what that looks like, don’t you?”

Mapleberry nodded, picturing the yellow daisy-like plant in her mind. “I think I saw some growing close by.”

“I’ll come with you.” Eaglecloud said, following her.

She turned to him. “Why do you always follow me around?”

“I find you intriguing.” He said, shifting his wings. “And I want to get to know you better.”

“But why? Why do you care?”

“Because that’s what the King says.”

“Do you always do what the King says?” She asked.

“I try to. I don’t always do it, but I try to.” He sniffed a sprig of calendula. “What’s this?”

“Calendula. Otherwise known as marigold.” She picked some sprigs. “Not arnica, but still useful.”

“Were you a Healer’s apprentice before you came here?” Eaglecloud asked.

“We didn’t have Healers. We had Mansha. And we didn’t have apprentices. Back home, every foal was trained to fight.” She shivered as images of the battle replayed in her mind.

“What happens if you didn’t want to fight?” Eaglecloud asked.

She blinked. “If you were a foal, you were exposed to more violence, to “toughen up”. If you still couldn’t handle it, you were a broodmare for the rest of your life, producing more foals for the army. And if you started passing your ideologies of peace onto the next generation, you were quietly executed.”

“And if you were a stallion?”

“Guard duties for the prisons and Manshas. It’s unusual for a Shakiran stallion to despise battle. More common among the mares.”

“Hun. It’s different here. We’ve each got our own roles to play. Some are healers, some are warriors, some patrols, some scouts– and not just the war kind, but the food and water kind as well. We all work together for the greater good of the herd.”

“There’s no forcing you to doing something you don’t want to do?” Mapleberry asked.

“When we turn into two-springs… two-winters for you, I suppose… we train really hard and show off our best abilities. the the older warriors pick each of us to strengthen our abilities. Sometimes, if we gained a special Talent as a yearling, then that can change the outcome.” Eaglecloud buzzed his wings. “Grayfeather is head commander, and he is very wise. You can tell by the feathers in his tail that he has had many apprentices.”

Mapleberry caught sight of the arnica patch and snatched up the sprigs. “I’d better be getting back now that I have these. Morningbird will be waiting.”

“All right.” Eaglecloud nodded. “Perhaps later I can take you out on a flight around the tribe’s territory. There’s lots to see.”

“Perhaps. If Morningbird doesn’t keep me too busy.” Mapleberry shook all over. “I need to go now.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Eaglecloud nodded. “I’d better see if Grayfeather wants to squeeze any more training out of me.”

A strange emotion, something she couldn’t quite touch, was aroused in her heart to see him leave, though why she wasn’t quite sure. It was almost like her heart desired for him to stay a while longer, to talk. She had actually enjoyed his company.

Much confused, she turned and went back to the tree.