Amethyst

by Drendel

As we stood in the damp predawn dim light, I hugged my sister one last time, a tearful departure for both of us. Her lilac-colored eyes swam briefly, but she stood tall and proud, although she was a whole head shorter than I was, and her hand lay lightly on the silver sword at her side.

"I will not fail you," she promised.

"Beloved, there is no way you could ever fail us." She dipped her head in reverence briefly, and bade farewell to my beloved in a sweeping curtsey. She turned to grab the mane of the tall horse, which stood fitful in impatience to move on. Savvahl was black as jet, and periodically threatened to fade into the background. One last time Amethyst looked at me, her visage shimmering insubstantially with the steed's shifting.

"Let Savvahl free when you arrive," I bade.

"Certainly. Farewell, sister."

"Fare well." I watched her lean forward and whisper into the pooka's ear and then in a heartbeat they were gone, silent as a breeze through periwinkle. Such were the way of our kind, silent comings and even more silent leavings.

Nightwind

Brenhani