It seemed that her past was determined not to stay there, but perhaps she owed an explanation to Mesec. He had earned her trust, after all.  She didn’t think he would take the information she was about to give him and manipulate it in some way.  She knew him better than that.  She only hoped that maybe her story could be helpful to him – maybe he could avoid such a fate. “No. It’s okay.  You’re allowed to ask.  I think you’re entitled to know something about my past,” she offered Mesec a sad looking smile.  She could see the war of emotions clearly in his eyes, though she didn’t know which emotion was winning.
 
“I came from a desert land far away from here – you know that much.  It was a peaceful place, with many herds ruled by one leader – Shahan.  He was respected by the people, but in his youth he was feared.  He couldn’t keep a consort for more than a night or two – and most of them disappeared soon after the crowning ceremony.  Rumors spread that he made a habit of executing the queens that displeased him.  Eventually, Shahan began having to travel to more distant herds in order to find a suitable consort. Herds began to fear his visits – fearing their daughters would be taken. And one day he came to my herd, and so did the whispers.  Instead of waiting for someone to be plucked from the crowd, I volunteered to stand as his consort.  Not because I wanted a crown, not because I wanted to flee my family, but because I was curious if the stories were true.  I wanted to know what his story was. 
 
In the end, he only wanted to know my story, and the stories I told. He was not a brutal soul, nor was he a butcher of those who displeased him.  Those who had been presented to him were either the most vapid, shallow of creatures seeking only a crown or spies sent from other regions.  None met their end at his hooves – but were exiled to the dunelands depending on the accusations.   The rumors had done their work. But the Shahan I was presented to was bitter and resentful due to his treatment – he had no trust left.  So every night I’d tell him a story, but never told him the ending before the end of the night.  ’Until tomorrow,’ I’d tell him.  He’d receive the ending in the morning, and then I’d leave him until the evening when he’d receive a new story for the day.  This is how we lived for a time – eventually slipping into telling our own personal stories.  It was not an arrangement born of love, but eventually we grew very close to each other.  He involved me into politics, he introduced me to diplomats, and the rumors of the butcher king all but disappeared.  He was my closest friend, my confident  - and I was his.” Her face began to change as her voice drifted off.  Her features became stony, her eyes were drawn to the ground.
 
Her story had been happy until this point.  But there was no more happiness to be drained from her memories.  She let out a soft, defeated sigh and continued, never lifting her eyes from the ground.  “And then the invasion came.”
 
As if unable to stand it, Najya squeezes her eyes shut, and continues her story. “They came at night – the mountain clans.  The guards were largely caught unaware, for the attack was well planned.”  As Najya began speaking, something strange began to happen.  Figures made of light slowly began to form, playing out the story she was telling in real time.  “We didn’t hear them until it was too late – too many had fallen already to mount an attack and there were not enough guards left to protect us.”  Her breath stuttered, but the shapes only solidified further – one shape was undeniably Najya and the other was a taller figure with the same curved ears.  “Shahan barred the entrance and revealed a secret way out.  He begged me – pleaded with me to go – to run as far away from this place as I could.  He said that he’d block the way – he’d hold them off to give me a chance.  He said it was his last gift to me – and implored me to take it.  He needed me to live.  Because he loved me.”  Tears slipped between her eyelids that were still pressed tightly closed, almost as if she knew she had conjured Shahan’s image and seeing him again would be too painful.
 
“He wouldn’t come with me.  He pushed me through the opening - he made me promise to go - and then he was gone.  And I did what I promised him.  I ran.  I ran until I couldn’t and then I ran some more.  Eventually I found Helovia.”  The figures melted away and her eyes slowly slid open, though her vision was clouded and her breath was still uneven.
 
“I never got to tell him, Mesec.  I never got the chance to tell him I loved him.  Because I was scared.  Because I was stupid enough to think that circumstances would never change and I’d have time.  But I didn’t have time.  And now he’s gone.  And I have to live with the fact that he died never knowing that I loved him too.”  She was panting by the time she finished, and tears streamed down her face.  She felt ready to fall to her knees and lighter than she had been in months all at once.  It was a strange catharsis – telling someone all that’s been weighing on her.  But she hadn’t told him this for it to weigh on him.  She just wants him to know that there are consequences. She took a deep breath, calming her ragged breathing, and finally dragged her eyes up to meet Mesec’s gaze.
 
“There’s never a right moment.  There’s never a right way to have the conversation.  Just…don’t wait because fate may never give you the chance to say something. That regret weighs heavier than any heartbreak.”