Sakhmet could hardly believed it when the scent of the brothers once again penetrated the wind. At first, the mare was sure that it was her brain; addled with silence and sun, it had conjured those that had left her behind. Surely if she was to seek them out, she would only find more of the same. The longer they remained though; pulling together like a binding wound, the grey mare was beginning to realize that perhaps it was not a dream.


Under the light of the stars, the ghostly figure picks her way across familiar territory. The tracks she leaves behind, lead to an oasis Sakhmet has not visited in some time. So, when the water finishes rippling, Antares is no longer standing alone. Although she does not stand beside him, but a few steps back, her blue and gold eyes look to the stallion’s face in the water just as his does. As if the vision there is easier to believe than the flesh and bone she stands close to. She too looks nothing like her previous self. Sakhmet’s dark grey has faded to a nearly white glow in the moon’s embrace. Yet, no matter the changes her body might make, the blood mark upon her face remains the same. A blessing and a curse in her eyes.


“You’ve returned.” she said, her voice nothing but a whisper in the otherwise silence. “Why?”