after the fire drove out the sparrows; any

[magnus]

magnus

howling ghosts, they reappear
in mountains that are stacked with fear

Magnus can feel the precipice that they stand on—the way they balance between two realities. He can feel it on the wind, the promise of change and new beginnings with the hint of danger. He has yet to meet their new leader, but when he does, he will be left with fresh worry in his chest. How was he to entrust this land, these people he loved, into the unproven hands of a stallion so young? How was he to step back and stay silent—left with nothing but the ability to hope for a better future? Could he trust a stranger?

Such worries will brand themselves on him in the coming days and weeks.

They will burrow and take root under his skin.

They will linger—and he will not have an answer for them.

Thankfully, he does not have such concerns now. Not yet. Instead, he has the uneasy feeling of a storm on the horizon that he does his best to shake, instead keeping his attention trained on the mares around him, the love he has for them steady and growing. “I would love nothing more than to reacquaint myself.”

He catches the Lucrezia’s gaze and his smile is warm.

“Where would you like to go first?”

He knew that this land was as embedded in her as it was in him; it was not his first home or even his second, and it was not the home of his heart the way that the jungle was (is), but it was uniquely home. From the safety he had felt when he had watched the tired, dirty, confused horses file into it after the Reckoning to the comfort he had felt patrolling its borders to the joy he had felt raising a family here.

It was home.

but you're a king and I'm a lionheart