Many years later…
Five pegasi walked through the forest to Silver Beach– two adults, two foals, and a filly who was in the years of in-between. The foals were only a few months old and were chasing butterflies, chattering excitedly about the bright plants and asking how much longer it would take to get to the sea. The golden stallion, with an array of feathers in his tail from his students and a proud stride, gazed lovingly at the chocolate palomino pinto mare with the ivory mane, green and pink feathers, and a four point star. The filly, a dunalino pinto, flipped her pale gold forlock out of her eyes and smiled at her parents, sidestepping a gopher hole.
Mapleberry turned a corner and went to the small circle of trees where her mentor, Morningbird, had been buried.
“Can we play in the ocean, Mama?” Her daughter Honeysuckle asked, tugging at her wing.”
“Can we? Can we?” Her colt Lionheart tugged on her other wing.
“If you don’t go past your knees and stay in the surf.” She said. The foals squealed, skittering towards the hot sand.
Eaglefeather looked at the stone marking the grave of Morningbird. “Already nine years since we buried her here.”
Mapleberry yanked out a green feather with touches of pink, setting it on the stone. It was her tradition since her mentor died– setting a feather on her gravestone, commemorating the mare who’d shown her Light.
Their two year old filly, Sundew, sniffed the stone. “So she was your mentor? Just like Cascade is my mentor?”
Mapleberry nodded. “She was a wise and honorable mare. She shall be missed.”
The foals came scrambling back from the sea, eyes wide. “Mama, Mama!” Lionheart exclaimed breathlessly. “Travelers! Travelers from the sea!”
“Not from the sea.” Honeysuckle snapped. “They’re flying in from the sky!”
Mapleberry and Eaglefeather exchanged glances before rushing out to the beach to see what was going on. High in the sky flew the pegasi, returning from Shakirana.
“They’re back!” Mapleberry nickered. The pegasi landed on the beach, Sparkfeather in front.
She expected a battle report. But what he said next was entirely unexpected.
“Greetings Mapleberry,” Sparkfeather nickered. “I think there is someone here who would like to see you.”
“Me? I hope it’s not someone injured.” Mapleberry lifted her head as the herd shifted and a chocolate palomino came through the crowd.
They both stepped back as they faced each other.
Ivory mane. Four point star. Lime green feathers and pink-tipped wings. Etching and wrinkling on her face said that her sister had aged several years since the Battle of Anger.
But it was Kestrelmist all the same.
“You’re here!” She sputtered. “You’re alive… Kestrelmist is it really you?”
“I thought you were the one who was dead!” She said, shoving her nose into her mane.
The next few moments were a blur of activity. But one thing was for certain.
The King had kept his promise. Her sister was alive.
What a great ending to a great story. Thanks Allie Lynn!