N E F E R T A R I
The swirl of the cosmos danced in her eyes as the mare watched the stars above. Even as the stallion took sudden note of her, as she knew he eventually would, she did not turn her gaze to him. The lantern lights of Caligo marched a steady, winding path across the velvet blue expanse, twinkling and tittering to themselves. Sharing the secrets that young fillies and handsome young colts spoke in confidence to the great wide night, she thought. The stars could not speak to anyone but themselves, and while there may have been a great many of them, she thought that perhaps the chatter kept the potential loneliness at bay. She thought that, perhaps, even the stars could feel grief. After all, they were the stars of Caligo, regardless of what land she stood in. It didn’t matter if her hooves landed her in Solterra, or Delumine, or even Terrastella. The night belonged to her goddess, and thus, the night sky that stretched across all lands also belonged to her. Even if she never saw the Arma Mountains or the beautiful Night Markets again in her lifetime, Caligo would always be with her. That was a comfort.
The stallion had moved gracefully through the waters of the oasis, sliding easily from the clear pool to the still warm sands. The summer air still clung to the last heat of Solis, and she thought that the water dripping down his crimson pelt must have felt extraordinary. He came to stand beside her, lifting his gaze once more to join her in watching the stars.
“Thank you for joining me, stranger,” he spoke, his words like warmed honey in spring. “The desert can be mournful at night, and your company will help keep the past at bay.”
A small smile curved at the end of his lips, and she thought that it suited him. The gentle expression seemed natural on him, though she suspected it was not something that came often. She got the impression that most of his smiles were sly, cunning, exuberant not in their genuineness because they were not that, not most times. This smile, though, as he watched the whispers of Caligo’s children, it felt more genuine than any she had come across in her years in Solterra.
She had not realized that she started to cry until the tear had already cut a path down the curve of her cheek. When had been the last time she had cried? Had it been that night, when she had run under the cover of darkness. Had it been all those first nights when she had been truly alone? The mare felt as if she had not cried in an age, and perhaps that was right. The last time she had shed a tear for her homeland and that which she had lost, she was nothing more than a child then. She had cried the tears of a child who had been lonely and afraid.
Here, though, in the clear night with this genuine stranger who felt more like herself than any she had ever known, she cried the tears of a woman who had suddenly realized with crashing anger and sorrow all it was that she had truly lost. There was no comfort for her here in Solterra, though she had spent years trying to hide that fact from herself. But yet, in this oasis and under the cover of her beautiful and powerful Caligo, she found some comfort. It took her a few more moments of silence to realize the comfort did not come merely from the cool waters or the blanket of stars. These were small comforts she had come to again and again and they did not start the drum in her chest as she had now.
She blinked, trying to clear the misty tears from her eyes. She turned their golden warmth to the stallion, taking him in. His pools swirled in a similar way to her own, tones of opal in shifting colours, bright and with a wisdom brought on only by years of experiencing and understanding true pain. He held himself like a soldier, or nearly so. No, he did not have the pompous air of the young men she had come across before, and not the same refinement of those who had seen the battlefield. There was something far less practiced, and far more real than any of those things, though she could not draw out exactly what it was. The thought slipped from her grasp, but it did not matter much. Where he had come by his disposition did not matter in this moment. What mattered is that it was as raw and real as any grain of sand beneath her hoof and any stray wind that brought with it the distant smell of cacti in bloom.
Nefertari parted black lips and found that at first she could not speak. She wet her lips and swallowed, trying again for words to express herself to this stallion. They came as a whisper, thick and low. Unbecoming of a lady in high society, surely, but oh so right in this small oasis, under Caligo’s stars.
The stallion had moved gracefully through the waters of the oasis, sliding easily from the clear pool to the still warm sands. The summer air still clung to the last heat of Solis, and she thought that the water dripping down his crimson pelt must have felt extraordinary. He came to stand beside her, lifting his gaze once more to join her in watching the stars.
“Thank you for joining me, stranger,” he spoke, his words like warmed honey in spring. “The desert can be mournful at night, and your company will help keep the past at bay.”
A small smile curved at the end of his lips, and she thought that it suited him. The gentle expression seemed natural on him, though she suspected it was not something that came often. She got the impression that most of his smiles were sly, cunning, exuberant not in their genuineness because they were not that, not most times. This smile, though, as he watched the whispers of Caligo’s children, it felt more genuine than any she had come across in her years in Solterra.
She had not realized that she started to cry until the tear had already cut a path down the curve of her cheek. When had been the last time she had cried? Had it been that night, when she had run under the cover of darkness. Had it been all those first nights when she had been truly alone? The mare felt as if she had not cried in an age, and perhaps that was right. The last time she had shed a tear for her homeland and that which she had lost, she was nothing more than a child then. She had cried the tears of a child who had been lonely and afraid.
Here, though, in the clear night with this genuine stranger who felt more like herself than any she had ever known, she cried the tears of a woman who had suddenly realized with crashing anger and sorrow all it was that she had truly lost. There was no comfort for her here in Solterra, though she had spent years trying to hide that fact from herself. But yet, in this oasis and under the cover of her beautiful and powerful Caligo, she found some comfort. It took her a few more moments of silence to realize the comfort did not come merely from the cool waters or the blanket of stars. These were small comforts she had come to again and again and they did not start the drum in her chest as she had now.
She blinked, trying to clear the misty tears from her eyes. She turned their golden warmth to the stallion, taking him in. His pools swirled in a similar way to her own, tones of opal in shifting colours, bright and with a wisdom brought on only by years of experiencing and understanding true pain. He held himself like a soldier, or nearly so. No, he did not have the pompous air of the young men she had come across before, and not the same refinement of those who had seen the battlefield. There was something far less practiced, and far more real than any of those things, though she could not draw out exactly what it was. The thought slipped from her grasp, but it did not matter much. Where he had come by his disposition did not matter in this moment. What mattered is that it was as raw and real as any grain of sand beneath her hoof and any stray wind that brought with it the distant smell of cacti in bloom.
Nefertari parted black lips and found that at first she could not speak. She wet her lips and swallowed, trying again for words to express herself to this stallion. They came as a whisper, thick and low. Unbecoming of a lady in high society, surely, but oh so right in this small oasis, under Caligo’s stars.
“Perhaps it shall, for both of us.”
The mare continued to watch him, drinking in all that she could. He surely was not a native Solterran or she would have seen him before now. If he was only passing through, she may never see him again, and she wanted desperately to burn him into her memory. Perhaps, if she did, she might be able to recall him again when it felt as if the world was collapsing around her and perhaps he would bring her blessed peace.
