Soarin walks through the barren land, blood staining his coat, tears long dried on his face. His once lively green eyes are now cold, filled only with confusion and anger. The sun beats down on him, but he feels cold inside. As he moves aimless, his body aches with every step. He feels betrayed, not just by Braeburn, but by himself

The memory of that night haunts him: Braeburn lying hurt, Big Mac’s furious hooves pounding into him, and Braeburn doing nothing to stop it. The pain was sharp, but it’s the silence that cut deeper. He didn’t understand why he hurt Braeburn, and that makes it worse

Soarin feels something strange stirring inside him. A flicker of magic. A sensation foreign to a pegasus like him, but undeniably real. The mind control spell, though gone, has left its mark. A dark magic lingers within him, hinting at a transformation he can’t yet fully comprehend. He feels a strange, almost instinctive pull towards magic, a power that he can’t fully harness yet but knows will soon define his path