She can't find him.
She moves through the village, quickly, breathing just barely under control. She's calm on the outside, but only just: her mind is a flurry of anxiety, worries blazing about her head. Has he left? Did he abandon me? Or worse - Has he been hurt?
Will he be there?
She swallows thickly and speeds up, almost to a run now. Someone stops her, asks where she's going, if she's feeling all right, and she does her best to smile.
"The stables," she pants, "I want to see the horses."
She knows the man believes her, because he smiles sadly and nods. She always has liked the horses, so there's no reason for her not to be there - she tended them often in days long past. And she isn't lying; she is going to the stables, but not to care for the horses. She's searching, checking; she needs to know if the black mare is still where she had been yesterday.
She slows down as she hears the snorting of the animals, smells the strong scent of hay. In spite of herself she's soothed, and she walks, apprehension fading, ever closer to Agro's stall.
She arrives and her breath leaves her.
Agro isn't there.
She walks through the village again, less frantically this time; a dull coldness has settled over her. She half-heartedly asks the few people still milling about if they had seen the horse or its rider, if the young hunter had passed through this part of the village recently. Every time she is answered the same: nobody had seen him, not since the previous day. Nobody had seen him since Mono herself.
He had vanished. Disappeared entirely, leaving no trace of himself.
There is nothing left for her to do. Mono gathers herself, holding back tears, and begins a slow trek to the temple.
She must prepare for the sacrifice.
She sits on the altar, dressed in white. The smell of incense burning around her makes her light-headed, but she is careful to stay focused. Her eyes run over each person kneeling before the altar, hoping to see him, her beloved, but knowing he will not be there. She is unsurprised when she does not see his bright red hair, his beautiful blue eyes, dulled and devastated, staring back at her. Again she holds back tears, closing her eyes against them. She must not show her fear, her sadness.
Emon comes to her side. Her heart beats faster, harder - so loud she can't hear the words he's saying to the others, can't understand the prayers he's chanting. She can hear the response, a low rumble, but can't decipher what it is. It's nearly time.
The chanting ends and she opens her eyes. Lord Emon gently hands her a cup, its insides sloshing around as it moves from one set of hands to the other. He says something else, and nods at her. It's time. Solemnly, she takes one last sweet, shaking breath and clutches the goblet, raising her eyes to see the people she grew up with- the ones she is saving through her sacrifice - one last time.
And there he is.
He's standing at the open temple door, watching her. When she catches his eye she smiles, and lets out a small, tinkling laugh. She thanks the gods in her mind that he came after all, that he didn't abandon her. His lips and brows twitch. She can see the despair creeping into the careful stony expression he's mustered and she shakes her head. Don't cry for me, she thinks. I'm happy. Happy she can help protect the village. Happy she could see him one last time.
Happy he came to say goodbye.
She lifts the cup to her lips and drinks.