The sand had started to turn pink with her blood.
Her journey through the waves had reopened the old wound. Fitting, then, that she would be back on the islands that felt just like that; a puckered red scar against the ivory of her flesh. This is where she lost
her; her sun, her heart, her soul. The only reason she had returned was for her eldest daughter; Inaayat did not deserve to be abandoned and Asherah did not deserve to be a stranger to her sister.
Now, she only watched the blood seep from her shoulder as the small filly beside her fumbled. She was not yet a season old, and the journey had been hard on the both of them. They had been traveling for some time and had only managed to slip through the waters before the first frost. Amduat knew her daughter could not push further, and so she had guided them to the cover of the trees that circled the falls.
“Umi,” the small voice squeaked,
“are you okay?” It always surprised her, the softness of her daughter’s new-found voice. The sound of it warmed her breast, like an ember that had been nestled in the hollow of her heart. She lowers herself into the grass beside her, pulling her in close.
“I am fine, my beloved. We are almost there, but we will rest now.”
"amduat speaks" & "asherah speaks"
the ghosts of nowhere.