The Enchanted Path (Book 1 of the Dreamfarers' tales)

Epilogue - Three Years Later

Two friends stood atop Manticore's Terrace. Below them, the Forest was vibrant with fiery reds, tangerine oranges, and goldenrod yellows, but their attention was pulled to a big flock taking off from the invisible cloudbank to disappear in the distance.

One of the friends was a tall, rusty-red stag with a crown of pale antlers upon his head; his right cheek sported an old scar. The second one was an equally elegant figure; her bronze feathers caught the rays of the dying sun and her raven mane bannered in the wind. After a long silence, the former spoke up.

"It's the third migration you're skipping."

"Uhm uhm," was all the latter's answer.

"So, it's been three years," the stag insisted.

"I didn't notice."

The deer merely sighed. "Cass...it's been three years."

"You just said that."

"Yeah, but you don't seem to hear me!"

"Don't waste your time and mine trying to convince me to forget him!" the mare snapped as her bronze-hued wings flared open. The sudden motion left the stag unfazed.

"Cass, let's face it: Dianthus isn't coming back. And if he is," he added before she could protest. "If he is coming back, you don't have any idea when he's going to pop out of thin air."

"I don't care, he promised, and I trust him!" the pegasus shot back fiercely.

Birch looked at her and drew another exasperated sigh. "Cass, I don't know what to tell you any more. You're a grown mare, and you should know that sometimes, you just can't keep your promises!"

"Talk for yourself, Dianthus will come back."

"Then what?"

Cassiopea gave Birch a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Cass, we have grown. Dianthus, too, is likely to have grown in the meantime. I can't say for sure how time works between different dimensions, but I think he has grown too. No more foalish adventures together, chasing wild dreams."

The mare cast her eyes down for a moment. "I know that...the fact is..."

"Yeah, I know what it is."

Once again, Cassiopea looked at him, this time shock upset her leaf-green eyes; the stag own features softened, and Birch offered a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Cass. I could have phrased that better. Maybe not. I suppose I'm still a tactless jerk but, believe me, I just want to spare you a broken heart."

The mare's eyes sparkled with tears. She looked away but acknowledged Birch with a curt nod. A long silence passed by.

"Do you ever regret it?"

Cassiopea tilted his ear but didn't answer.

Birch went on. "Not asking him to come home."

"I did ask him," she said. "In the Dreamworld."

"You knew perfectly well it was already too late then. He was set. But maybe in the den..."

"You talked me out of it, remember?" A mirthless laugh shook her chest feathers. "I wanted to break the crystal for him, but you made me see reason. Do you ever regret it?"

"Every single day for the last three years."

Cassiopea turned to look at him. Birch was looking down toward Willowglade. They could see the magical willow tree reaching out tall in the distance. Cassiopea knew it still bore the scars of the fire, but it was otherwise healthy and strong.