Mercury wasn't sure if she'd had too little time alone, or too much.  She had ran until she thought her lungs would fail, and stumbled down the path that ended at the lakeshore.  This place was less familiar, not as remembered.  Hermit's Pond lay tucked back into the mountains, almost as far south as they could go before hitting the southern edge of Nardir's territory.  The peaks climbed steeply until they frosted far up, out of sight.  Their snowmelt fed the pond, which was cold, even in the height of summer.  She bent to drink, the icy water hitting her stomach like she'd swallowed a knife.  Training taught her not to drink too much, too quickly.  Like she had been doing since she dropped her mask, she let her muscle memory guide her.  Slow, shallow laps, held in her mouth before she swallowed.  Then she sunk down in the sand, staring out at the water, listening to sounds of the world that was at peace when she felt none herself.

It wasn't exactly sleep, it was simply atrophy.  The Dark Moon lay stretched out on the bank, her eyes staring blankly out at nothing.  Memories played in her mind, old memories, worn and faded so that there were pieces that were missing altogether.  Once again she was keenly aware of how much she had lost, how much she had missed.  Too late, far too late for anything else now.  Raka and Byakko had died of old age, choosing their time and accepting it when they were ready.  It was the living who were not ready.  While Akutan's attitude left much to be desired, Mercury had cherished Byakko's insight and advice.  The old warrior had been a steadfast mentor and friend. But time had worn him, and much of the mentor she had loved was gone.  Even their relationship had declined, crumbling with age and disuse.  It was the way of the world, but it was a pain Mercury had not felt in a long time.

How long before she was alone again?  She thought of Kodiak, and winced a bit.  She'd asked for his help, but then she'd ran.  Truth be told, she wasn't sure of what to do with him.  When they had lived together, it had been a group setting where there had been a higher power.  Their human had decided where they went, what they did, even... how friendly members became.  Now there were suddenly no barriers, and like when she had all the freedom in the world, Mercury really just wanted someone else to show her the way.  She had never had blind faith in the Mother Moon, but she had hoped that her dream meant that she was home, that the land and the people would magically revert to the hazy ideal of her youth.  Nothing was ever the same, and what was lost to time could not be recovered.  Even here, even home, she felt isolated.

"Mercury?"

A voice called her name over the water and the Dark Moon lifted her head to see Kastra walking towards her.  Her sister's son. Mercury had initially been confused, and Alana's explanation had been as vague and ambiguous as: "He is what he chooses to be."  So Mercury had accepted the introduction that Kastra was Alana's son, female or otherwise.  What others would have made a mountain, Mercury had stepped over with more tact and indifference than at an actual molehill.  At least moles you could eat.  But as for Kastra, Mercury had less of an idea of what to do.  She had never really been around children.  When she was young, she had gone to train with warriors, her softer siblings staying with Hakan in their garden.  Artemis's litter was one she had never gotten to know.  Now Alana's brood was grown and gone, except for one.

"I, uh. I feel...sad?"

Mercury looked up at him and gave him a small, sad smile.

"As am I, Moonling." she said softly.

Without speaking any further, she shifted her weight to make it easier for him to lay beside her. She was still laying in the sand, and dropped her head onto her paws.  If he chose, he could join her on the beach.

Kastra came to lay with her, and she sighed as he rested his head on her shoulders.  How long had it been since she had laid in someone else's embrace?  She supposed it had been when she had talked to Adolph after finding the pack.  That was... a while ago.  The Dark Moon leaned back against him with a comforting pressure, giving what words never could.  The sensation of not being entirely alone.  They lay in silence for a while, listening to the small waves created by the lakeside breeze.  Time seemed to stop, the landscape on a gentle, continuous loop.  Perhaps for the first time, but not for the last, they shared the sensation of a heavy crown.  They had not discussed it, but Mercury thought that the prince simply knew he was to lead.  He certainly acted like it.  Independent, but mindful of others.  After all, Kastra could have cried, but he was willing himself not to.

"I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to deal with it.

She could empathize.  Mercury's first experience with death had been learning that not just one, but both of her parents were gone. She remembered the feeling of shock at seeing the bones at Kokutan's feet.  She may have been the blood of his blood, but until then, Kyril had been her father.  But Mercury had not been thinking of what she would do.  She had been concerned of what Alana would feel.  Mercury had pushed it aside, locked it away, and strapped her spine with borrowed steel.  She did what she always did.  She lied.  But feeling Kastra there, asking her how she stayed strong... she found she could not lie to him.  His head would hold the crown, and to lie to him was to leave him unequipped.  Would leave a gap in his armor.  And she would never let her future king go unguarded to battle.

"Your mother had just become Queen when Kokutan called Alexander, she and I to inform us that our parents bones had been found."  Mercury began, not really answering his question, but feeling that the only thing she could do was share a piece of their history.  "He told us that they had died of sickness. Rather than introduce the plague, Shenandoah made the decision to isolate them.  My mother was a healer, if there had been a cure, she would have produced it.  They made the decision to die, rather than risk the pack."

She stopped, drawing in a ragged breath.  She hadn't spoken of this to anyone since it had happened.  She and Alana hadn't even talked about it to each other.  What she was about to tell her nephew she had kept from his mother their entire lives.  Yet it felt right to tell him, to give him a piece that he could relate to.  To lay the first brick of a strong foundation.

"I felt like I was falling. The earth seemed to open beneath my feet, as though everything that held me up had suddenly crumbled.  Despite Kokutan's assurances he was there for us, we were suddenly alone." 

This hurt.  She didn't want to talk about it.  She wanted to get up and walk way.  But just like then, when she'd stood rooted to the spot with Lana pressed into her side, Lex's weight adding to the pressure.  She had been pushing back, the only force that kept them from toppling over.  Someone always had to push back.  So she pushed on.


"We had to inform the pack.  As leaders, it was our job. Lex offered to do it for us, to spare Alana and I a moment for ourselves. I was inclined to let him, but your mother said we all should tell them, together." 

It had been one of the last times the three of them had been together.  Alexander had disappeared not long after.  She still didn't know where he'd been, and while he had returned, the answers had not come home with him.  So it was.  Pieces fell through the cracks, becoming lost forever.

"Death makes us forget the light of life, instead letting darkness into hearts in a haze of grief.  To return the light, you must fight the darkness.  Alone if necessary." 

When all others succumbed, they were not allowed the luxury.

Is there anything we should do? Or can do? We should...We need to work on our kingdom. We’ve just barely gone through this land. We need...border stations. A garden, or something.

Mercury gave him a satisfied smile. The look on Kastra's face full of concentration and determination. While she knew the grief was still there, it was gone from his features. She had seen so much in Alana, but now, with the past on her mind, he looked like Alexander. Never would she think to compare him to herself. But the need to work, the desire to be useful, productive... the need to feel in control.  That was a feeling she knew well.

"Your great grandmother, Vaidya, made a grand healer's garden.  If you would like, I am sure Hakan would appreciate learning of it's condition.  We could scout it for ourselves." She suggested.