While they had started out as strangers, the rosy mare didn’t feel strange to Leander. Noah had saved him from the throes of a plague that would’ve otherwise killed him. Her involvement in his healing had indeed left an impression – a sense that they were somehow linked – and yet the pair were about to discover that they were bound in more ways than just the one. Just as Noah had been struck by the mere mention of his name, so, too, was Leander as she admitted that Rhonen had been her father. Thus, the truth of their blood relation was revealed.
As he looked upon his healer and beheld her in a whole new light, sudden emotion began welling in his brown eyes. “It was you,” he realized, recalling the soft melody he’d heard from beyond the fog of his illness – a tune which his own father had taught him, passed from generation to generation. “Noah, I believe you and I are kin.” He cleared his throat and hummed a few notes of the lullaby himself before letting the sound fade with his breath. “My dad taught me that when I was little – he told me it was his family’s song.” He flashed a rueful smile. “Although your voice definitely does it more justice than mine.”
Then Leander shifted, bringing his gaze about to gently hold hers with his own. “You see, my parents had me outside of Beqanna. It’s been less than a year since I came here, but they told me so much about this place and about the family they’d left behind that I was hopeful of finding relatives. And that day… that day by the Mountain – I recognized your dad’s name. I remember my dad telling me of a great-nephew of his named Rhonen, who’d gone missing when he was quite young. He was the reason I went to Pangea. I only went to try and stop what happened, but…” He trailed off, lowering his eyes as his head sagged a little. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Glimpsing her sorrow, Leander was reminded him of his own parents’ passing. While it had been long ago, it had cost him a piece of his heart, and he could see that Rhonen’s death had also cost a piece of Noah’s – pieces they’d never get back. Instinctively, the thin stallion reached out and pressed his muzzle to her withers in a quiet show of empathy before he withdrew, gathering himself to speak again. “I don’t know whether you’ll recognize their names, but my father was Riagan, and my mother was Rayelle.” Though the years gone by had made it a little easier for Lee to use the past tense as Noah had, it never failed to send a small pang through his chest – through the hole where their piece of his heart used to be.
