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Ignatz laid back in the cot and stared at the blank canvas ceiling of the infirmary, taking slow, deep breaths and praying that his face would stop burning crimson. Of all the ways he’d ended up in the infirmary, this had to be the most embarrassing.
Honestly, who else had been snatched up by a pegasus by the scruff of his neck and dropped into a pile of hay like a misbehaving foal?
Oh goddess, the hay. The hay was everywhere. He was sure he would find hay in places unspoken for days to come.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized he should probably be grateful that he landed on something soft. From the height he was dropped at, his situation could have been made much, much worse.
He shut his eyes tight and hissed as he adjusted his ankle. Twisted, probably. Damn. Pain shot up his leg like a hunter’s arrow.
Regrettably, Marianne had witnessed the whole ordeal. Goddess bless her; she at least had the decency not to laugh as he emerged from the hay pile, unlike Balthus and Holst, who had rushed to his side to carry him to the infirmary. They thought this was hilarious.
They were gone, thankfully, and only Marianne remained. She returned to his side with a cupful of cool water, which he received gratefully.
“Thank you,” he gasped after gulping down the water. His throat had become sore from all the screaming. “I can’t believe this happened.”
She traced a glowing healing sigil in the air and set a gentle hand on his ankle. There was warmth, and then his pain dissipated like sand in a river. Instead of a knife’s edge, it felt more like a dull hum.
“There. That should help with the pain.” Marianne took a seat beside him and shook her head. “I-I’m sorry,” she said with a frown, “I should have tried to reign her in, and now look at you…you’re hurt because of me.”
“Well,” Ignatz said with a rueful laugh, “she seemed pretty determined to do whatever she wanted. I don’t think you could’ve stopped her even if you tried.”
Marriane worried at her lower lip. “Maybe,” she said, her hands curled into fists in her lap. “I’m still really sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!” Ignatz replied, reaching a hand out to rest upon hers. “I wanted to ride through the sky with a pegasus, and, well I got what I wanted. Even if it didn’t go exactly how I pictured it. Honestly, the glimpse of the view I did get—it was quite stunning.”
Up there in the sky, he saw great fields of crops criss-crossing in a chessboard of colors, stretching into a pristine flat wash of blue sky. Directly below him, he could just make out the camp, a scumbling of gray stones adorned with the golden insignias of the Federation and dotted with the minuscule figures of soldiers. One of the figures–a stunning blue against the earth tones of the camp–gazed up at him with a pale hand shielding her face from the afternoon sun.
"Marianne!" He had yelled when he had the courage to peek through his fingers, "Marianne, its beautiful up here!"
He only wished he'd had more time to decide which pigments would capture the scene best before the pegasus dropped him like a potato sack. Not long after he stole a glance at Marianne, there was a violent ripping sound and he was falling, all the colors surrounding him melting into a blur as he flailed his way to the ground.
“Um,” Marianne started, her cheeks taking on a light dusting of pink, “maybe next time, we can try riding a pegasus together.”
Ignatz’s brow raised. “I…I think I would like that. Very much. And afterwards, I’ll paint a picture of the view. So you can keep it. As a memento of sorts.”
Marriane smiled the tiniest bit and placed her hand on top of Ignatz’s. “That sounds lovely.”
“Just…promise you’ll let me get fully situated before you take off.”
Marianne couldn’t help but giggle at that. “I promise,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze.
Her smile grew, tucking her eyes into small crescents. Ignatz had seen much over his short time alive, and he knew he wasn’t good at…well, at a lot of things. But he was good at finding the beauty in everything. A blooming flower. A rain puddle. A rotting apple. Even the view from a petulant pegasus’s soaring flight path.
But the way Marianne smiled at him, gentle and kind with her bright eyes slightly downcast and her cheeks rosy pink—that had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.