For a long while Casandra sat motionless, barely seeming to even breathe, her eyes staring off unblinking into some place that only her imagination could go. Finally her hand moved to pick up a pen and she started to sketch something only visible to her mind's eye. Never looking down, she quickly filled in the details of the scene, making the piece of paper come alive with the images she drew.
The picture started with a lavender sky, turning maroon toward the center of the scene. A large red sun hovered high above with wisps of fluffy clouds all around. Then some jagged rock formations appeared on the sides, framing the scene like silent sentinals. The bare rock gradually gave way to some scattered vegetation and eventually to a thick, twisted forest at the base of the mountains.
What started as a small stream, jumping from rock to rock halfway up the right-most peak, soon became a cascading waterfall and finally turned into a wide stretch of slowly moving water in the center of the picture. On either side there grew a deep, rich grass in a peculiar shade of green. And everwhere there were flowers in every color that you could almost smell.
Finally she began to create the great herd that spotted the rolling plains and frolicked in the shallow blue water. The horses were slight of build, but made up for their lack of stature with gleaming black coats, flowing manes and rippling muscles. After she had finished the herd she turned to the final, and most important, piece of the work.
He stood atop a small crag of rock that overlooked the entire valley. Like a great statue he stood motionless, silently watching the herd. His lustrous coat and silken mane were both a black bordering on deep blue. You could feel the power in his stance and see the intelligence in his eyes as he watched over the mares and younger stallions. The whole scene seemed to somehow revolve around this magnificent animal.
When the last details were added and the picture had been completed, Cassandra put the pen she was holding back into her case. Slowly her eyes came back to the room she inhabited and she closed her pen case and replaced it in the drawer. She then looked critically at her new trump for several minutes until satisfied that everything was just right. She put it back down on the table with the faintest trace of a smile and walked off into her bedroom.
After a good night's sleep she put together the equipment and provisions she would need, told her staff that she would be gone for a day or two and returned to her study wearing her riding clothes and a light backpack. She walked back to the trump and picked it up. Holding it before her eyes she concentrated on the image before her. After a minute she reached out with a rainbow and vanished . . . .