Chill water lapped at the sand, turned misty purple by the darkened sky. Every now and then a wave would crawl further up the beach, swirling around their hooves. Chrysaetos flinched every time, picking up a dainty ankle and flicking water from between his cloven hooves. Fairytale stayed still, unbothered by the frigid temperatures, and snorted with amusement every other time Rhys frowned at the tides disdainfully. “You’re such a baby,” Fae snickered, watching Rhys tapdance in the foam. “It’s cold,” he said, voice pitching up in a whine. “Hey, it was your idea to be out here,” Fae pointed out with a flick of her ear. “What’re we doing, anyway?” Rhys pinned his ears and straightened his front legs, digging them into the wet stand, flexing his shoulders against the instinct to recoil. “I wanted to show you something,” he said, voice tight as he grit his teeth into the chill wind. “Gathered that,” Fae said, rolling her eyes. “I meant what did you want to show me?” Rhys turned his head to gaze out over the sea. “Patience is a virtue, Fae.” “So is honesty, Rhys.” Rhys gave a deep sigh. “Just hush and be– there.” He titled his head up and pointed to the darkened sky. Fae followed the gesture, opening her mouth to complain again, when the heavens opened up like a wound. Streaks of electric green and blue slashed across the firmament, blocking out the pinprick stars, and casting everything with an ethereal glow. Fae opened and shut their mouth, teeth clacking, thinking of something to say; eventually, she landed on, “Whoa.” “Yeah.” Rhys closed his eyes and stepped forward, head basked in turquoise light. “Can you feel it?” Fae tore her eyes away from the sky and regarded him with one raised eyebrow. “Feel what?” “The light.” Chrysaetos’ horns began to glow, golden whisps of light streaming from them like threads of silk in the wind. They wove themselves into shapes in the sky, seeming to borrow strands of the aurora, twisting and writhing into patterns. Feathers peeled themselves from the night; then a beak, and flapping wings. The eagle opened its mouth in a silent shriek, downstrokes silent as a shadow, and it rose up into the sky. Eventually the light peeled away from Rhys’ horns, smudged, and faded, spiraling off to become one with the aurora and dance through the stars. “Huh.” Fae was basked in Rhys’ golden light, which slowly began to fade. His eyes returned to their normal shade, and his horns stopped glowing. He lowered his head and shook, sparks of magic bouncing off of him like embers from a cooling fire. “So?” he asked, once he had calmed down. “Did you feel anything?” “Well, I’m not aligned with Light, so, no.” “Oh.” He dropped his head, and his ears, turning his forlorn gaze out to sea. He wasn’t even twitching from the cold anymore. “But it was still really, really cool.” Fae shoved him with her shoulder, shocking him out of his stupor. “It just must be a light thing. It makes sense, right? The aurora calls to you.” Rhys perked his ears. “Does… does nature do that for you?” “Nah, not really.” Fae swung her shoulder wide as she turned to walk back up the beach, lit by the blue backlight of the lights dancing above. “But I’m not really a magic gal.” “So you don’t hear the calls from the trees?” Rhys fell into step beside her. “Or the flowers?” “Mmmmno.” Fae shook her head, ears flopping loosely. “Maybe a cabbage, once. But that was probably just because I was hungry…”