Allat and her stars sparkled high above, glinting with their own quiet mischief against the pitch black sky. Winter had come and gone, replaced with the gentle embrace of spring and the heat of the summer, the wedding a mere vague memory in the mind of the lovely arabian mare who had her face tilted upwards in silent prayer to her beloved goddess above. Much had happened in such little time, Eness ponders this, opening her eyes to glance upon the galaxy above her. “Forgive me my beloved,” she whispers into the chilled night winds, speaking to the one she coveted so above all else, “i have lost my sadiq, my heart. Forgive me for the sins of my father, for forsaking that of which I held so terribly close. May she find her place in this new world,” Eness does not waver under the heavy emotion of guilt that threatens to pull her down into the abyss, but her grief is known in the breaking of her words when at long last she utters into the night, “without me”.

For once she is without the beauty of her sadiq, the warrior woman she had left everything for to protect and love. Eness had not only failed them both but her husband Atair as well. They had both thought she was their missing piece, but Sakhmet was determined to leave and so she had, leaving Eness to pick up whatever pieces of herself she could to remain standing. Sakhmet hadn’t even gone to the wedding, but she understood and didn’t push. One day though, she hopes to find herself back in the good graces of her friend.

She turns from the moon, legs carrying her back down the dune she’d climbed before night had fallen, but she stops herself part way as her gaze finds her stoic companion in the night. Her breath is caught in her throat, for Atair was as ever beautifully coated in the stars of her Allat, the very stars she dared to reach for and touch if he’d allow her. It was silly to still be caught off guard by him, for now he was and would always remain to be, her husband. There is a heated flush to her skin as she starts walking towards him again, and as she finds herself back within his presence she dips her head low to him, dark brown eyes shyly glancing at him from under her lashes. “zuji alhabib,” her voice was husky, breathless even as she greeted him, given her short jaunt down the dune behind her.

“Did my departure awaken you?,” she asks of him when bringing her head back up and looking beyond him to the vague image of the little oasis in the background, not realizing just how far she’d wandered until now; of course he’d worry. “Forgive me Atair,” a whisper of breath, steps bringing her into his personal bubble as the chill of the night urges her closer into his warm embrace, seaking to press her nose into his midnight colored skin.

zuji alhabib - my lovely husband; lovely husband