“I am waiting,” she answered at last.

Her voice felt transcendent, almost as if she spoke through the voice of an angel. Countless changelings backed away in fear, in confusion, while Thorax and Pharynx lost their breath. Pharynx could no longer speak, for he had lost the will and the strength to do so. Her mere appearance—and now her voice—had left him beyond confounded. How a mare of all creatures could leave him in such a state was an embarrassment to his title.

Yet she was no simple mare. Thorax knew that the second she opened her mouth and spoke, holding a voice that did not belong to their realm, to their reality. To their life. Thorax was startled, was breathless, but he did not cower like the many around him did.

He took a step forward, and the mare turned his way, curious with a tilted head. Still, she did not look down upon him. She seemed somewhat pleased that he approached her, that one among them had the courage to meet her. And Thorax, still holding on to that fleeting courage, finally found the boldness to ask, “Waiting… for what?”

The mare opened her lips, but nothing came from her. Her eyes fell to the floor, to her hooves, but she did not answer. Not until she could know. With her eyes fluttering to a close, the mare whispered to herself, to her heart, and listened for the voice to return. When it finally did, in that tense moment of silence, the mare at last opened her eyes and knew what to say, how to say it, and how to tell them what they needed to know.

Hid from them what they didn’t.

“For my sister,” she finally answered. The crowd of changelings were silent, Thorax left in a state of awe at such a simple response. The mare turned to them all, let her mystical gaze wash over the crowd and let them know. “When the time is appropriate… my sister will come. And she will bring with her… purpose. A purpose we were born to, we were called to… and she was reborn for. The time draws near, and I must remain vigilant. When the time is right… she will return to us.”

So much remained hidden that they didn’t need to know for now. For the darkness was impending, so vast and so horrible that it would soon wash across all the world. A darkness they could never prevent. A darkness they could never face alone. It was why she was called, why she and her sister were called. To bring back the light, to safeguard it, to allow it to grow and flourish and strengthen when the time was right.

For in those final days, in the final wars, the light they were called to would awaken. And she, the First Sister, would be there to welcome her. She faced the egg and stared onto its surface, to the undying light flowing within, and relinquished the tiny smile of hope.

“For Mosura… Mosura will return for all of us.”