Noble Partner by Kinto Mythostian Snyslyoma was morose this morning when she arrived to bathe and groom Serenpassero and the black stallion did not know why. He nuzzled the girl with his broad soft nose and she abruptly wrapped her arms around his neck in a loving hug. Tears trickled from her green eyes and soaked into the hair of his hide. "Oh sweet, sweet Serenpassero," she repeated over and over, but gave no clue as to the cause of her sadness. Her grooming of him took longer than usual, as though she did not want to leave her horse's side, but Serenpassero did not mind. Snyslyoma's company was the most wonderful thing in the world to him, and if he could provide her comfort in return by his very presence, he was glad to do so. She brushed his black mane and tail, scrubbed his hide until he shone, and picked and polished his hooves; Serenpassero did not think he had ever been so clean. The girl fitted him with his best Dark Green dyed leather halter and tethered his lead to the stable rail. She whispered into his ear, "Wait here, I will be back," and Serenpassero nodded to show he understood. For her he would wait a hundred years. When Snyslyoma returned some time later her long blond hair was artfully braided into a single plait that hung down her back, and her pale face glowed as though she had scrubbed herself as thoroughly as she just had Serenpassero; she smelled wonderful. She wore an elegantly beautiful long Dark Green dress of velvet and lace with matching stockings, an outfit Serenpassero had never seen her wear before. He wished he could tell her how magnificent she looked and cheer her up, for her expression was still very sad. He whinnied in happy greeting and perked his ears and was rewarded with a fleeting but genuine smile and a gentle pat on his nose. She took hold of his lead, but instead of walking him to the saddling box she instead led him directly out of the stable, into the warm spring sunlight. He followed her along the winding path through the expansive temple gardens, gravel scrunching beneath stocking feet and hooves. Snyslyoma led her handsome horse past sacred groves and lush flowerbeds swarmed with butterflies until at last they came to the temple door. Two acolytes opened the large wooden portal and the girl stepped through, her head humbly bowed. Serenpassero swished his tail and hesitated only a moment before following her into the dim interior; he had never been inside the temple before but he would follow anywhere Snyslyoma led. Down the center aisle horse and girl walked, unescorted except by each other. On either side of them Serenpassero could see dozens of girls dressed as beautifully as Snyslyoma; many of them he had seen before tending to the other horses in the stables. The duo stopped at the head of the aisle where six priests stood in silence around a broad, flat stone raised a foot above the tiled floor and shaped into a hexagon. Snyslyoma curtseyed before the somber clergy and Serenpassero, sensing reverence was expected, bowed his head low. At Snyslyoma's word, Serenpassero stepped up onto the stone, and she followed. At another word from his beloved, the black stallion lay down on the stone, his legs folding beneath him in an elegantly complex maneuver. Snyslyoma knelt beside him and one priest handed her a set of padded shackles. Serenpassero remained perfectly calm as Snyslyoma fitted them around all four of his ankles, linking them tightly together in a fashion that would prevent him from standing. Serenpassero had been trained to accept the shackles since he was only a colt, and they did not worry him. It felt good to be in Snyslyoma's control; he trusted her wholeheartedly. Snyslyoma walked across the stone and knelt once more, this time beside Serenpassero's head. He looked up into her green eyes contentedly, glad to be by her side, safe and secure. She removed his halter and tenderly stroked his naked face and ears for a brief moment. A second priest took the halter from her and handed her a Dark Green leather strap. Snyslyoma quickly slipped it around Serenpassero's muzzle; this was something new, and for the first time the horse felt nervous. The hogtied stallion tried to shy away but he calmed at a touch from Snyslyoma and allowed her to knot the strap tightly in place, tying his mouth shut. He relaxed once more and rested his gentle head on her lap trustingly. A third priest handed Snyslyoma an object that Serenpassero could not see, but he heard her choke back a faint sob. He looked up at her quizzically as she turned back from the priest to once more face her horse. She leaned forward to whisper sorrowfully in his ear, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "You are that which is most precious to me, and that is why I must do this to you. The gods have called and we must obey. You are my Noble partner." Serenpassero's eyes widened and his ears swiveled forward and his hooves strained helplessly against his bonds as Snyslyoma drew a shining silver dagger from the sheath she had been given. He tried to whinny through his bound muzzle but only a terrified snort escaped his flared nostrils. "Shhh," she said, petting the side of his neck with one hand. "It'll be alright," though her quavering voice betrayed her own doubt. Serenpassero calmed his struggles at her touch, but her words did nothing to abate his distress. Anguished tears flowed freely down Snyslyoma's cheeks as she grasped the handle with both hands and pressed the cold tip of the blade to her beloved horse's pulsing throat. Serenpassero looked up at her, tense and terrified, his silent eyes begging for mercy. The girl gave one final miserable sob and leaned with all her strength on the handle. Abruptly the sharpened steel pierced Serenpassero's thick black hide, sinking to the hilt in the defenseless stallion's flesh. Ruby red blood gushed from the wound as Snyslyoma sliced the knife across Serenpassero's throat in a cruel and ragged tear, flowing across the altarstone, soaking into the girl's dress where she knelt. Serenpassero squirmed in pain, ears folded flat against his skull, muscles rippling futilely beneath his ebon hide as he felt steaming blood pouring from the gash in his neck. The stallion's neck arched, pushing his weighty head against Snyslyoma's torso and nearly knocking her over, but she steadied herself and held firm. Serenpassero looked up as Snyslyoma pulled the blade free from the mortal wound, a look of hurt betrayal in his eyes, but she offered no comfort or explanation. Serenpassero watched through his own tears as Snyslyoma quickly pressed the knife, still gilded with her horse's hot blood, to her own throat and slashed open her own delicate pink skin in one unhesitating motion. She gasped in pain and dropped the blade to grab at her throat as her blood spurted from between her fingers, washing over her velvet bodice, splashing down onto Serenpassero's face as his feeling of betrayal was replaced by uncomprehending horror. Snyslyoma wavered kneeling upright for a moment as blood drained from her slit throat before allowing herself to collapse listlessly forward over her horse, her graceful body draped despondently across his stout neck. Her small fingers desperately clutched at the matted hair of his mane and hide, anxiously seeking the reassurance of his touch. She doggedly clung to Serenpassero, grasping as though terrified to let go, her clenched nails digging determinedly into the dying stallion's shivering skin. Serenpassero could feel the thunder of her heartbeat as her chest pressed against him, pounding in perfect sync with his own, and the stallion understood. With his last reserve of strength, he nuzzled his velvet nose against Snyslyoma's lap comfortingly, feeling the fearful tension drain from the girl's body. Even as the cold void of death claimed them both Serenpassero knew that whatever came next, it was theirs to face together. That was what mattered. Blood of girl and horse flowed across the altar, mingling into uniform red foam, two lives spilling from two throats unified in one sacrifice. First draft written July 25, 2013. Editing completed May 23, 2014.