The rush of hooves beyond my small oasis had woken me from where I lay nestled against Antares, and I nearly ignored it. The comfort his quiet form brought me was immense, and the sky above was still dark with the promise of long unlit hours to go. It is Sakhmet's figure that flees across the dunes, however, her pale coat a comet streak across the top of the sand. Behind, only a moment later, speeds the lean form of my brother Aldebaran and I am assured again that things are well.

Except I cannot sleep.

Something kept my eyes from resting and I eventually extricated myself from my lover's embrace and moved gracefully up the sand dunes. The season's fire had all but been extinguished from my flesh, and the burn of those tumultuous hormones had only been replaced by those that made me even more susceptible to the suggestion of love. In truth, my days of late had been largely consumed with the various ways in which I might entice my brothers into their own marriages as we continued to bring more and more of the People back to the Dunes.

Many of them I was uncertain of in their desires, save one. I had never seen the star-speckled brother crack near so much as he did with the beautiful Eness, and even now I find myself curious as to why Eness had not accompanied Sakhment on her nighttime race. I am ashamed at my own curiosity, but not so much as to stop my hooves from pacing across the Dunes until I found the small oasis of the rest of the herd, and beyond it, the meeting of the two night-hewn equines. My hooves stilled on approach, and a smile of hope fluttered on my lips but quickly died as I watched the scene go from hopeful to tragic in a matter of moments. Hardly half a breath later and Atair was herding her towards me as though she were no more than a recalcitrant herd member.

My ears flattened as I prepared to scold him for such coarseness, but the look on his face stilled the passion of my tongue. The open anguish was far more expression than I had ever seen my stoic brother wear and I oriented back toward them. The desperation of his words wash over me as I stare at him, and the meaning of them seats itself deep into my heart. He considered her not just a wife, but a first wife, his soul sewn and other half, and it was evident from the look on her face that she had no idea what such an admission must mean to him. My face cracked for the first time tonight, and my happiness and fear bled into a single expression.

Rigel had told me what had happened with his Priestess, and much of the rest of his hesitance I had surmised from what I had learned of Antares. Rigel had told me, my own husband, after forsaking all companionship in the wars, had believed himself unfit for any such kindness that a woman could offer. It would be easy to believe that the warrior brother would feel the same after the depravities they had witnessed on the battlefields.

Even now as he beseeched me to be the Voice of Wosret, I understood the ache in his heart. I had known as soon as I saw his eyes drawn to her as they had been to no other, the way he had fought against himself every time that she was in his vicinity. It was evident to me that they belonged together, and had been since the first day.

"Adhhab ya 'akhya. Sawf 'atahadath 'iilaykum eindama yahin alwaqt." I murmur to him as he retreats, and I turn my attention to the black mare he has left in my care. I know well enough how confusing it all was, how the swell of emotions might seem as though they were a tsunami threatening to crash over your own head while the tide tugged you in another direction. I stretch the slender arch of my neck towards her, offering an exchange of breath in greeting.

"Hello, Eness." I say her name with a smile, my eyes sparkling with delight despite the seriousness of the occassion. As much as I would love to devolve into idle gossip with her, to hear of the words that he had murmured into her skin before they had separated, it is not my duty tonight. Tonight I am called to be the Mira for the first time, the voice that stands between my brothers and the matching of their souls to one another. It is a large task, though I take it on gladly. Carefully I choose the words to allow the mare to make her own choices, for me to evaluate her own feelings without my wishes threaded through. I cannot lightly take on the concept of a soul-sewn for the brother that has been through so much already.

"What are your thoughts, Eness?" I ask the question gently, tucking myself at her side so that we may walk free of any restless energy and potentially remove the temptation of staring back at his retreating form. "Do you understand what he means by soul-sewn?"

I ask it gently, my eyes still on her face. I keenly remembered how overwhelmed I had been the next day when Rigel had tried to spoon feed to me all of the lessons that I should have learned when he visited the first time. Granted, I knew the two of them had not been engaged before, but that did not make their marriage any less sacred or the feelings less intense.