| Naz & Sarayuand weave constellations into our souls |
When the Sadim had returned to their Homeland, and the world had turned on them, scattering the Stars and tearing apart the Family that Naz had been welcomed into, only one of the four had been able to escape, and he found Naz, and asked of her only one thing - that which was already upon the lips of the white-splashed marwari, a renewal of that vow she had made. She would watch over her beloved Sayyida, never leaving her. But to protect her Mira from dangers she could not foresee, a certain distance was needed, and though she loathed to exist as naught but a shadow upon the horizon, and oh how her heart ached to be apart from the greying arab mare, she kept to her promises both. And somewhere along the way, she’d picked up a lost soul, in the form of Sarayu, a delicate but strong young mare who, while similar in form to Naz herself, was not kin to her (though, one would be forgiven for assuming so, for the ears of them both kissed their tips together above their thin manes, like halos). The companionship of the small, observant Sarayu was as a balm to Naz’s spirit, and while it soothed the aching of her heart, it did not heal it completely, nor did it sway her from sticking to the course she had chosen. Fond of the loudly marked kathiawari as she was, Naz would not forsake her Mira, nor give up hope of the Sadim being restored, the hope that Aldebaran had planted in her. Day after day, she followed Sayyida, wherever the grey mare went. And when that led the pair to the ocean, to either follow in Sayyida’s wake, or lose sight of her for good, Naz pressed her muzzle to Sarayu’s cheek, and then took to the waves without looking back. The truth was, between Sayyida and any other, there was no choice. But still, with a heart full of faith and devotion, Sarayu, who’d been named for a swiftly running river, found her way at last to the sea, and followed after Naz to a place that she did not know, and that she could not see. But, eventually, they rose from the endless water, a cluster of islands. Sarayu only stole glances every now and then, focused always on Naz, so as not to be separated from her by the push and pull of the rolling sea. When finally they made landfall on one of the smaller islands, the one farthest south, the small dunskin and white mare felt the strangest sense of deja vu. It was not unlike the land where she had come from. A little different, yes, but that’s just how deserts always were, or so Sarayu believed. As alive as any other landscape. Perhaps there was nothing to grow, nothing to measure the days of your life by, like watching trees grow from seed. But it was far more a dynamic thing, the way the landscape was carved anew by the wind with each passing day. It made living in such places miraculous, because, unlike the grassy plains, where flowers bloomed each spring, or the mountains they had passed which would be capped by snow when the nights turned cold, in the Dunes… In the Dunes, one would wake each morning to a landscape that had never been before, nor ever would again. And if one watched and waited long enough, sometimes it would happen before their very eyes - the wild winds would blow and remake the endless sands. There was no water here, at least none that obeyed the pull of the moon, but the sands were beholden to the winds alone, and Sarayu loved it best when the gentle breezes stirred the smallest of grains and carried them, dancing, over her bone-white hide. All of this, she pondered over, as she followed in the line of prints Naz had left for her in the sand. Already, she knew (from when she’d stolen a single glance behind) the Dune winds were covering over the trail behind her, so that before long, when they’d crested this dune and disappeared from the sight of the coast line, it would seem as if none had passed this way at all. Minutes later, tucked in a shallow valley between two dunes, Sarayu looked to Naz, who had ascended the next rise, and was not at all surprised to find the night-dark mare looking toward the stars. This was how it had always been - Sarayu had taken to following Naz, because she’d been alone, but even as their movements were dictated by that distant, pale figure that Sarayu only knew through Naz’s devotion, the marwari mare had looked to none but the stars above to guide her. Atop the dune of sand, aware of her companion watching from below, Naz heaved a sigh that the wind was quick to whisk away. They had not long been roaming the Crossing, keeping to the shadows of the trees that bordered the Meadow, when Naz had caught sight of the Sheik returning, Beloved of her Mira, Naz did not linger a moment longer beyond ensuring that, at last, they were reunited. In time, when they were ready, she believed they would return to the place where they had once built their Sadim. And Naz would be there, waiting for them. She could only hope that the other Stars would soon settle upon these sands once more. She had missed them, and the rest of the Sadim, more than she could ever say. Sarayu aside, they were all she had left. "I did what was asked of me," the pale faced mare murmured to the wind, grateful of the privacy Sarayu had afforded her, even if the distance wasn’t needed for that. "I did not deserve to be called ‘Qasisa’. I failed the ones who matter the most. Some are lost to me now, but not her," Naz turned her mismatched eyes heavenward, heart aching, to beseech. "Please, please watch over her - my Mira, and my Sheik too. Aldebaran. Rigel and Atair. Their wives. Their daughters and their… Their sons. Bring them all safely home." |