Although her body had left him, her mind had not. She had spent some small time wondering what memories had been taken from her, but after running through the roster of her family she had ceased worrying that she had lost something important. And then she moved right on to worrying whether she had done the right thing in leaving him.
It did not feel right. Last time, she had left with a purpose – had abandoned their peace in the afterlife to return to create balance.
She’s so absorbed in these thoughts, that when she looks up and sees him she’s not entirely surprised. At least, not at first. She just gives the bay, winged figure a passing glance – heart painfully constricting the way it does whenever she sees someone with a similar colour sporting a set of wings.
But then…
Could it be?
Every fibre of her body snaps to attention with the realization and she freezes where she is for a few heartbeats.
There’s a memory she no longer has of a reunion just like this, of a magician that wore his likeness – stealing it from her thoughts. Using it to toy with her, to hurt her. They were in this exact same meadow then. But those memories are gone, absorbed in the afterlife – and she does not even know they are gone.
All the same, there’s a part of her that cannot believe her eyes. It was one thing to see him there, but she had been so certain that she had come back through the gap between worlds. Had thought this ground beneath her hooves was the real, true ground and the air she was breathing was not just an illusion for a body that remembered breathing.
He is slick with sweat and looks so wildly alive that hope ignites within her like a wildfire. It’s enough to force her forward, to take steps she does not notice she is taking. There’s a few strides between them when she finally hesitates, her muzzle twitching with the desire to touch him again.
Their reunion in the afterlife wasn’t enough.
Midnight blue eyes are burning into him, as though she can somehow see whether this is true or a falsehood. Has she crumbled so far into decay that her mind is playing tricks on her?
There’s a dozen things that rise to her tongue, questions to ask and jokes to make. Her eyes begin to glisten as she searches his face for answers even before she tries to speak – her voice little more than a whisper. “Did I die again?” She cannot say she would be particularly upset about that – what’s a third time? And she had been debating staying with him, after all.
“Or is this a dream?”
