Day and Night

Difèrne led the sheep to a grazing peak as she did on Monday mornings. She let the chilly clouds soak into her coat like one would sunbath. The cold was rejuvenating after a sleepless night of tending to a broken pen. 

In a strange paradox, though, the fog also made her sleepy; it was as if she was gazing into a dreamscape, awaiting for her next fantastic journey.

Soon, the sun pierced through, temporarily blinding her. Difèrne would think that she should be used to the transition by now, having done this journey weekly practically all of her life (which, admittedly, isn’t much when compared to the average longevity of a quirlicorn). She kept her eyes closed for a while, taking in the environment through her other senses.

The baaing of sheep, the clickety-clock of their hooves upon the occasional stones, the knocking of young rams’ horns as they quarreled, the occasional tearing of long grasses with a pair of hungry teeth, and the dog barks indicated that everything was in order.

She glimpsed upwards to the leading sheep. One had strayed, but her trusty Friend had guided it back.

Out of all of the family farm’s dogs, Friend was her favourite. She was unexpected: her father had expertly predicted five puppies to their oldest dog’s litter, but Friend had arrived at last, as a small and frail thing. Her father had taught her how to nurse the puppy back to health and then how to train it. Now, the two were inseparable. Not only that, but the mare, then filly, had trained the dog so well that the two of them were allowed to take the sheep up on their own during their weekly shift. Her siblings displayed both envy and pity at the special treatment: things were seldom quiet at the family farm and all longed for a moment of solitude, but, at the same time, the liveliness of the large household had become a norm, and so, no quirlicorn were sure that they could withstand so much as a day on their own. It had been hard for Difèrne to grow accustomed to it at first, but it had quickly become a routine. Once a week, she had a moment all to herself, and she made it count.

Once they reached a rest stop, Difèrne called for her companion and relieved it of a leather bag which was strapped on its back, just like a quirlicorn would to itself. Of it she pulled out a volume on Mountain magic. The book had been acquired by a distant uncle who had gifted it to her oldest brother for Christmas. It was then passed around the family for all to benefit from. She flipped through the creased pages, looking for her bookmark. No luck. She must have forgotten to put it back in last night. She remembered something about Empathy, so she turned to the related chapter. Looking at the illustrations, she was able to find where she had stopped.

Upon reading the first sentence, Friend barked insistently. Difèrne looked around and spotted a duo of rams testing out their antlers rather close to where a cluster of ewes and their lambs grazed. The situation wasn’t particularly worrisome, but the mare figured it would be best to break up the fight now before they had a chance to accidentally knock over a lamb. She placed the book on a rock upside down to save the page and made her way over to the animals.

She could have easily sent her companion to solve the issue, but the enthusiastic dog could just as easily have bothered the lambs. Difèrne gently separated the rams with her sturdy hoof and redirected them towards where the other young rams rested with her spiraled horn.

A breeze ruffled her tight curls and brushed against her braids, tickling her neck. The unexpected sensation caused the mare to whip around, on the lookout for any potential source of danger.

She spotted something unusual. There was a black and white rock lying in the middle of the plateau. Upon closer inspection, Difèrne noticed a horn sticking out of it.

“Hold on a minute…”

That was a quirlicorn!

Difèrne rushed over. She didn’t recognize the coat at all. Modern quirlicorns were rather sparse in these parts of the mountain. They usually went no further than the villages, and  that was only during market trading season. She checked the quirlicorn’s vitals. To her relief, everything seemed fine. 

“Friend, go get help,” she ordered her dog nevertheless. She couldn’t guarantee that everything was perfectly fine with the quirlicorn being unconscious and unable to describe any type of symptoms. The dog took off down the slope. She retrieved her back and prepared to administer first aid should the other quirlicorn need it. It would seem that the sheep will be staying here for a while, Difèrne thought with a laugh. As foals, her siblings would always complain about climbing all the way up to the highest grazing land, insisting that this place in particular was perfectly fine for the sheep. Their parents would patiently explain that the plants were more nutritive higher up and optimized the growth of fleece.

The stranger didn’t come to until one of her uncles and her brother arrived on the scene.

“Stop, thief!” she yelled, before collapsing on Difèrne’s uncle's shoulder.

“No worries, dear. You’re safe now,” the stallion reassured.

Upon hearing of a thief, Difèrne inspected the surroundings for a bag or any items that might belong to the quirlicorn. She gathered an umbrella, a broken lance and a book similar to hers, although the theme was Swamp magic. She slipped the bundle in her uncle’s bag and he began his descent, bringing the quirlicorn to the safety of the family home. Her brother made a last round and told her to resume her sheep-keeping activities before escorting the other quirlicorns.

From what she understood, the stranger was fine, just a little shaken. Friend had stayed back at home for a well deserved rest, so the mare immediately set off to the peak, hoping that she could get the sheep to graze the good grass for at least a few hours before having to come down again.

She gathered her things and strapped the bag onto her back, carefully so as to not damage the yellow roses that grew on her back. She spent most of the evening staring blankly at her book, wondering what might have been written in the Swamp volume. The rams were particularly rowdy and constantly interrupted the mare’s thoughts. It was a bit more difficult to handle the herd on her own, but she managed. Thankfully, the pregnant ewes minded their business and the mothers watched out for their youngs, so the mare really only had to look out for danger.

Wolves seldom visited this area, as the family’s stocky pyrenees dogs had claimed the land for themselves. Bears themselves were weary of the large dogs. Most sightings of predators occured in winter, when desperate bachelor animals tried their luck at snatching an older sheep. Thankfully, Difèrne’s large hooves always carried her to the danger in time to save the animals. 

She was glad she was able to find the quirlicorn on time, too, although she wished she had arrived earlier to prevent the theft from happening.

The quirlicorn ate her dinner in a hurry and signaled the sheep it was time to head down for the night.

The young rams weren’t as compliant as the rest of the herd, so the mare had to motivate them with her horn. 

The fatigue of the trip would have almost wiped the memory of the strange quirlicorn if only she hadn’t found some strands of white hair caught up in a branch near the bottom of the peak. 

She gathered the sheep into their pen as quickly as possible, hoping that the stranger had stayed at home so that she could ask all the questions she had been thinking about all day.

Hoping? No, Difèrne knew that her family would have invited the stranger to stay and have a good night’s sleep before going on her way.

She opened the door and, sure enough, the modern quirlicorn was seated at the dining table, writing something on a sheet of paper.

“Hey, you! You seem much better now. What happened?” Difèrne took a seat next to the quirlicorn. The stranger shifted in her seat.

“Difèrne,” her father said from his seat in the living room. “Please mind your manners. Zealin, this is Difèrne-” he now addressed the modern quirlicorn “-she’s the one who found you in the mountain.”

“Thank you,” Zealin said in a disinterested tone.

“Difèrne, this is Zealin. She was simply knocked out when you found her, and is now completely recovered.”

“Glad to hear that,” Difèrne said. She peeked at what the modern quirlicorn was writing; it was a list of items like apples, tape (for the javelin, the writing specified). The mare inferred it was a shopping list.

“May I ask directions for the nearest village?” Zealin asked the father, looking right past Difèrne.

“It’s about three hours away to the east. Two if you take the suspended bridge, but I wouldn’t recommend it: it has many loose boards and many travellers lost their goods while crossing. Not their lives, thank goodness for that.”

Zealin was quiet for a time. “May I borrow a map from you? I would like to head there as soon as possible…” The traveller fell quiet for a second time. She probably remembered she had no money.

Difèrne’s father noticed this and pleasantly offered: “Your list isn’t very long. I’ll gladly purchase all these goods for you in exchange for three days of work on the farm. It’s not hard work, but necessary work. I need to take some time off myself to teach Amant how to tend to the sick sheep, and I’d appreciate you taking my place while I do this.” Amant was Difèrne’s youngest brother. He was still lanky and clumsy, but, just like his sister, he was truly a gifted learner. The rumour ran in the family that he was born with some type of psychic magic. If what the book she was reading was truthful, then Difèrne would guess aura reading magic.

Zealin slowly shook her head. “That seems fair. I am truly grateful for your help.”

“Of course. In the meantime, you’ll be sharing rooms with Difèrne. Hopefully she doesn’t keep you up at night,” the stallion chuckled. 

Difèrne was puzzled. Was her father joking about her aura and glitter or had he noticed her deep curiosity towards the stranger.

Without another word, Zealin collected her paper and quill and walked down the hallway towards Difèrne’s bedroom. 

The yellow mare followed suit.

“You must be really tired after all that happened today. Let me show you my room. And don’t worry about my aura, it dims out when I sleep so it doesn’t glow through the blanket.”

“Your brother has already shown me your room. Thank you for helping me,” the modern mare said hesitantly. Difèrne could tell she was being sincere. “I would like to go to the village as early as possible tomorrow morning. What is the usual routine here?”

“You’re in luck,” the ancient mare answered, letting Zealin into the room first. “No such thing as routine here. Quirlicorns wake up and eat breakfast whenever their chores call for it. I don’t know what Daddy has in mind for you so you probably can leave for the village first thing in the morning.” 

She reached into her dresser and pulled out a map of the mountain region. She turned it over and offered it to her roommate. “This side is a map of the nearby territory. This is the village you should head to-” she pointed a dot on the map with her horn. “We’re here,” she added, pointing not far away from the dot. There was a large grey line separating the two locations. 

“Daddy says the bridge isn’t safe but it really only is for carts and other large cargo. Unless you’re bulk-buying wood planks, you’ll be perfectly fine. Just watch your footing and don’t run across.”

Zealin nodded her head comprehensively. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Difèrne only realized how sore her legs were when she finally climbed in her bed. Apparently, her brother not only had showed Zealin her room but had also brought in an extra mattress for her. Instinctively, the mare checked the top of her dresser to make sure everything was in its rightful place. As much as she loved her siblings, she didn’t approve of their tendencies to take her books and broken roses. Once she was assured nothing was missing, she laid her head onto her pillow. 

Zealin blew out the candle, but the room remained illuminated by the ancient mare’s aura. The modern mare pulled her blanket over her head.

Difèrne’s eyes remained open.

“Say, Zealin?” A low “hummf” indicated that Zealin was listening. “I couldn’t help but notice your book on Samp magic and I was wondering… If you were from the swamp region?”

The other mare stirred on her mattress.

“No, I am not.”

“Have you ever been there?”

“I have.”

There was silence. Difèrne knew she shouldn’t disturb the stranger, but…

“What is it like?” 

“It’s a swamp. Doesn’t smell very good.”

“Ah.” Difèrne imagined lush vegetation and dirty water as far as the eye could see. Something like a polluted ocean. She thought of another question quickly, hoping that too much silence would end the conversation.

“Do you have swamp magic?”

Zealin sighed.

“Where are you from?”

…

She must have fallen asleep, Difèrne thought. She tried to do the same but it seemed impossible. Too many questions simmered in her head and she was afraid she would forget them all should she fall asleep.

Journal? Where was her journal? She rummaged through her dresser to find it. When she finally did, she-

She woke up to find the single word “how” dimly illuminated by the first rays of sunlight. She looked for Zealin beside her. The quirlicorn was already getting out of bed. 

“Good morning,” Difèrne yawned.

“Good morning.”

Surprisingly, the house was perfectly still. The mares were free to make their way to the kitchen. Difèrne pulled some eggs and a pan.

“How would you like your omelette? The oatmeal is the cupboard over there if you’d like some.”

“I don’t mind.” Zealin was studying her list. “How much do you estimate all of this would cost?” she asked, showing the list to the other mare.

Difèrne studied the list. “Eh, I would say no more than five silver coins.”

Zealin’s eyes widened. “That much?” She composed herself. “I suppose that makes sense given the location of the city.”

When the food was ready, Difèrne suggested they eat outside. Zealin said nothing and followed the ancient mare to the door.

When she opened the door, Difèrne spotted her youngest brother rolling around in the dew covered grass, alone.

“What are you doing?” She exclaimed. “Amant, come here!” The foal ran up to her.

“Heya, Di,” he grinned. It was hard to hold any type of emotion against him. Her brother was extremely cute. Perhaps he had empathy magic after all, Difèrne thought.

“I’m waiting for Dad to come and show me how to take care of the sheep.”

“Mamant, it’s four in the morning. Go back to sleep. Foals need lots of sleep to grow big and strong.”

“Awww.” In the end, Difèrne couldn’t resist her brother’s puppy face. She slipped some of her breakfast into a second dish and offered it to him.

The three quirlicorns settled down at a table near the door.

“Over there is the main pen,” Difèrne pointed out. “You’ll most likely be helping around there since Daddy has been fixing the fences this past week.” Zealin nodded.

“From what I understand, your father won’t be up until later. Where may I find the tools? I’ll begin now.”

“No need,” Difèrne reassured. She grabbed some money from a decorative teapot while she was bringing the dirty dishes back inside. She could hear her brother harassing Zealin with questions while she was gone. She suppressed a giggle.

“This should be enough.” She handed the coins to the modern mare. “Be safe! Remember not to run on the bridge.”

At that moment, the door opened, revealing Difèrne’s father. Friend shot out of the house towards her quirlicorn friend, barking joyfully.

“Actually, Di, I’d like you to escort Zealin to the village. It’s a long way there and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her again.”

Zealin tensed but nodded. Without her javelin, the mare was effectively defenseless. 

Difèrne packed a meal and strapped the bag to Friend’s back. The mares then set off to the town. The trip was rather uneventful. Zealin wasn’t really talkative. Either that or she didn’t like Difèrne prying into her life with all of her questions.

Both mares remembered not to run on the bridge, but it was a whole other story for Friend. The dog barked when she noticed Zealin crossing over all alone and struggled against her companion’s grip to meet her again. In the end, Difèrne crossed the bridge with her dog, carefully guiding it across. One time, she stepped on one of the weak boards and felt her heart stop beating.

Difèrne helped find the shops that would interest Zealin. The whole ordeal took, to the mare’s dismay, only a short amount of time. They ate lunch in silence, Difèrne having since then understood that Zealin didn’t appreciate her talking so much. The journey back felt for Difèrne like those lonely treks up the grazing fields, only, without the clouds soaking through her coat and the breeze that tickled her neck.

The mare snapped out of her ennui when she heard a loud “crack” while she and Zealin crossed the bridge. The modern mare’s leg pierced through a board, and the entire quirlicorn quickly followed suit. Difèrne jumped behind her, catching Zealin’s blond tail with her teeth. The modern mare let out a singular “Ah!” during the whole process. 

Friend rushed over and grabbed Zealin’s tail as well. With their strength combined, Difèrne and her trusty dog were able to pull their new friend back to safety.

Zealin seemed stunned, but not injured. Difèrne had more pressing matters than to attend to Zealin’s health, however. The remaining planks creaked under the weight of the two quirlicorns.

“Go, go, go!” the mare breathed, dragging Zealin to the other side of the cliff.

Once across, Zealin shakily sat down, while Difèrne dropped to the ground, heaving. A quirlicorn is much heavier than a sheep, the mare realized.

“Thank you, I owe you my life,” Zealin said in her signature voice.

“Don’t mention it,” Difèrne answered, having finally caught her breath. “No one’s getting hurt on my watch. Not in my mountains.” It was your idea to take the bridge, her conscience said. Without you, Zealin wouldn’t have taken the bridge and none of this would have happened.

“Do you still have all of your items?”

“Miraculously, yes.”

“Good. Let’s get back as soon as possible.”

When the two mares saw the farm, Zealin abruptly asked, “Is there a manual to fix the fence?” Difèrne blinked, then suddenly realized that the modern quirlicorn wouldn’t have much practice with farmwork. 

“Daddy will show you how to do it,” she reassured Zealin, knowing how intimidating it could look from a newcomer’s point of view. “It’s very repetitive, but it’s not difficult. I’ll check up on how you’re doing every so often too, so you can ask me questions on it if you have any.” 

Zealin gave a tight nod. “And my items?”

“You can keep them in my room if you want. Everything’s clean.” Difèrne paused. “What do you want for supper, by the way? We have some pasta or chicken.”

“Anything convenient,” Zealin answered before disappearing into her room to deposit the items.

Difèrne went looking for her father. She found him in the quarantine pen, explaining to Amant how to immobilize a lamb’s leg.

“Pretty soon he’ll be leaping around the meadow again,” the stallion smiled. Amant was all tangled up in bandages like a mummy.

“Daddy, we’re back!”

“Did Zealin get all that she needed too?” Difèrne nodded.

“Good. I’ll be there in a minute,” and he turned his attention to the foal again.

Difèrne didn’t see Zealin for the rest of the day. While the modern quirlicorn fixed the fences, Difèrne cleaned the windows of the house and tended to the chicken. To a city dweller, the tasks would sound rather simple, however, the family abode was quite large, large enough to house over twenty quirlicorns and their pets (and yet, things were still pretty tight). She also prepared a meal for the entire family. 

Everyone assembled at the table. Dogs ran around excitedly. Difèrne’s parents warned everyone not to feed them table food while secretly dropping some chicken on the floor themselves. Plates and glasses got knocked over and quirlicorns talked over each other. Zealin silently watched from her seat next to Difèrne, keeping to herself and staying out of the lively mess. Everyone asked if she wanted more bread, more gravy, more water… In the end, Difèrne’s mother made the announcement that Zealin was fully capable of getting whatever she wanted and that she could make herself at home. 

“You did some excellent work with the fences, Zealin,” Difèrne’s father said, buttering his bread. “I noticed some fences in the quarantine pen were also damaged. Could you fix them for me?”

Zealin nodded. “Of course.” She passed along the salt.

“One sheep has a disease that is contagious to quirlicorns, I will show you where to get some extra equipment so that you can stay safe.”

He was interrupted by a fight breaking out between Difèrne’s youngest siblings. Something about someone pulling another’s tail.

When the problem was sorted out and the younger quirlicorns settled down, the stallion looked at Zealin again.

“So, Zealin, what do you do for a living?.” Difèrne remembered asking this question without success earlier that day.

“I travel around the regions,” she answered briefly. Difèrne’s ears perked.

“Difèrne would love to travel the world some day,” he said with a smile.

The yellow mare blushed. She has wanted to travel since she was a filly. She would always look at the maps in books and point out places she thought were nice. As a foal, she really wanted to see the sandy beaches of the plains region. Other times, she wanted to see the pyramids of the desert region. She claimed she would find lots of treasure and be the greatest adventurer of all time. Her parents smiled, but always reminded her that traveling was expensive and that the world was vast and dangerous. 

“Maybe when you’re older,” they said every time. Since then, they had given her a little jar and would slip some change in it whenever they could spare it. Recently, she had started adding her own money to it as she would often run over to check on the neighbors and assist them. Her siblings never had the chance to complain about favouritism as the parents and older siblings were always open to the idea of going out for treats and to helping them find their passions.

“Tell us about your travels,” Amant begged. “Have you ever met a thunderbird? What about cyclops? What about a cyclop thunderbird!” 

“Those don’t exist, Mamant,” Difèrne said sternly. 

“I can confirm,” Zealin nodded.

The modern mare recounted her most recent travel to the large family. Unlike Difèrne’s uncle, the mare was brief and her story lacked embellishments. Her adventures seemed quite mundane, told in that manner. But Difèrne’s eyes glowed regardless. The Quirlicorn lands were filled with wonders and magics that the mare could only wish she could ever experience. Meeting a Basilisk? Or a cyclops? How wonderful that must be!

From that point on, Zealin was more disposed to tell the stories of her travels. She was often the last one to finish her meals as the family urged her to continue her tales. 

When the contract finally expired, the modern mare packed her things in silence. Difèrne found her in their room eyeing the map they had used on that first day.

“It’ll be more useful to you than to us. Keep it.” Difèrne circled the approximative location of the family farm with a pencil. “If you ever find yourself in the area… come say hello! We’ll be glad to see you again.”

Zealin nodded and carefully folded the map into her bag.

Difèrne tilted her head. It was improbable that the quirlicorn would ever visit again, given the circumstances of their meeting. 

“Again, thank you for all that you have done for me,” Zealin spoke. “I owe you.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. Everyone would have done the same.” 

Zealin blinked, unimpressed. She bid her farewell to the family which had gathered in front of the house. The yellow quirlicorns waved their tails energetically, screaming variants of “good bye”, “come again” and “be safe”.

Then, everyone went on about their day as usual. Everyone except Difèrne. She paced in her bedroom. Then, she pulled out her journal. Flipping through all the tales she had recorded during Zealin’s visit, she finally found a blank page.

“We will meet again. I just know it.”