Meadow

I woke to the sounds of unfamiliar bird calls rippling through the air above me, saturating the morning with bright and cheery noise. I roused slowly, drawing in quiet breaths that were heavy with the remnants of the night's dew, and contemplated how I was going to approach today.

Five years ago, I could have never conceived of a day like today. Of a day so bright with possibility that even the thought of opening my eyes to face it had me nearly blinded. As a girl, I had always trusted that I would do the proper thing and tie myself to a stallion of their choosing; and later, when my own choices had carried me away from my homeland and delivered me to my beloved anyway, despite the oceans that separated us, I had trusted that my fate would lie with Antares forever.

But he was gone, and with him the other Sons. With them, they'd taken my beloved daughter, and the title they had once bestowed upon me as their Mira. Now, I had only myself. I rose only when the sun roused me, and slept when the moon coaxed my eyes shut. I was beholden to no one, save for myself, and it turned out that I alone was not nearly as demanding as I'd once believed myself to be.

By the time I returned to the Meadow after eating and then tidying my appearance, it was nearly midmorning and the warmth of the sun on my silvery coat was very much welcomed. It reminded me of my two homelands, which both pained and soothed me. My father had made it clear that while I was officially welcome to visit Mahgrib, he had no desire to see me nor to expose my sisters to the sort of 'wanton hussy' he believed that I had become. As if marrying the man of his choice, and delivering an heir - as I had been raised to do - was any less pure for it not having been done beneath his control.

My freedom - bitter though it was at the cost of all of my family and friends - made the smile I sought easier to wear. I had no great expectations of being able to return to Salem. I knew now that what I sought would not be found within the familiar Dunes, but within myself. If I was to be truly happy, I needed to learn how to accept myself and my limitations.

I could not control the whims of the world, nor magic my Beloved back into existence. Time did not answer to me, and so I could not roll back it's hands to the time of the Son's rule; nor could I hasten it forward to the day that I might hold my beloved and our daughter against me once more.

The first step, I'd decided, was learning how to accept my fate. To go with the will of the world and stop trying to fight it. If the heavens wished me to return to my Beloved, they would surely send him to me. And if they did not? Well, then it was another lesson I would simply need to learn.

I walked along the perimeter of the Meadow, my gaze cast inward contemplatively as I debated which grouping to approach. There were a pair of horses - one spotted and desert bred, the other thick and posture confident - that seemed likely, but I could see an unknown mare making her way toward them and quailed. It had been so long since I'd held a true conversation with someone that did not know me that I wasn't sure where to begin.

The sound of a creature shaking water from its coat drew my gaze, and I turned to look upon a man sorely in need of care. His hips jutted out grotesquely, and his sides were velcroed to the shape of his ribs. At first glance, he even appeared to be bleeding, but as my gaze began to map the shape of the bloodmark my mind flitted to a memory of a desert pool, the water warmed by the relentless sun, the air fragrant with the scent of flowers. Of a dance of two bodies becoming one, finding each other, and matching their souls together.

"Ohhh," I cried out softly as I inhaled a sharp, surprised breath, tears already welling in my eyes. I had thought him lost to me by his own hand, a memory I would have to carry across my shoulders for the rest of my life. From what little the statesmen of Mira had bothered to convey to me (tired and sad as I was from my disastrous visit to Mahghrib), I was under the impression that the brothers had decided to return to Salem without me. That they'd taken my daughter and the few non-relatives that had accompanied us and simply trusted me to return on my own.

It was unlike them, but in truth, the whole venture - Mira and Mahgrib - had torn my heart to ribbons. The officials had promised me that this was simply another test, a way to prove to them (and to their people) that I was their true Mira. It had seemed ludicrous to me, after all that we had been through, but who was I to dismiss their traditions?

And so I had left, and searched for them to no avail. There were no tracks, no trails, no hints. There was no trace of anyone that I cared for, and so, eventually, I was faced with a choice: to lose myself forever in a search for something that was gone to me, or to try to move forward, to find a new future.

I had chosen the latter, forgetting that fate was a cycle with a sadistic sense of humor.

"Belov-" I cut myself off, the word a sharp stone in my throat, slicing through tender flesh. I cleared my throat and blinked rapidly to try and stave off the tears before trying again, my voice a desperate question despite the stillness of my feet. "Antares, my love, is that you? Really you?"