She was alone. Lar had left her for a "secret mission." Tasmia Mallor felt the loneliness of old times creep into her heart. "You are stronger with me than without me" she had told him. And he had agreed. And he kissed her and left. She heard from him-once, and that was two weeks ago. That was the last she saw of her husband, Lar Gand, the hero known as Mon-El.

She knew Mon loved her and that she loved him. She rubbed the ring on her left pinky that represented her marriage to him. She had performed Xorna, the ancient bonding ritual, and the most holy and ancient of Talokian marriage rights. Even if he died she pledged not to take another spouse. She would honor him with her service or bravery and would let no other man's flesh ever touch her for her pleasure again.

She checked her life crystal linked to her husband. It glowed softly and warmly. She knew he was all right, but she still felt abandoned. Something just did not feel right; her floating in space on the little cruiser that served as their home.

~Talok VIII~ There was that thought again. Talok. Yes, she should go there instead of waiting and feeling sorry for herself. She'd be back in a heartbeat — in time to meet at their rendezvous point. It would be good to breathe the air of home.

A few days later, Tasmia landed the cruiser and parked it under a deserted ledge on the outskirts of the City on Talok VIII. "I've been getting too soft. I need a trek," she told herself. She took a few supplies and a medi-suit and set out for the mountains on foot. She did not know why - she just felt the need to go alone, quietly.

The trek was hard, but felt good. It reminded her of when, as a youth, she set out to claim her heritage as a Mallor. Unlike her earlier experience, she slept during the day and traveled at night. She meditated and she prayed - to ancestors, spirits of lost friends, and the one God of all. Tasmia thought of missions, friends, and times when her ancestors appeared to her. She remembered when her ancestors granted her the Mallor control over darkness and later, when guiding her to remain with the Legion.

After a week of walking, she arrived at the Ancestral Caverns. Bowing in respect, she gave thanks for her safe journey. Then she found the caves of old and went in to honor her ancestors.

~Put on the medi-suit~

~Come closer~

Tasmia recognized the voice of her ancestor Lydea Mallor, heroine of 1000 years ago. ~Yes, foremother~ she replied. Tasmia felt herself drawn along paths to a cave she had not explored before. ~Stay and dream, daughter Tasmia.~ Tasmia Mallor Gand understood. The medi- suit could slow down her bodily functions, allowing her to last weeks without food, water, or waste expulsion. Sacred ancestors, she had been called here! Tasmia kissed the life crystal of her husband, set the controls of the medi-suit, and lay down to wait for the visions her ancestors would send her way.

Two weeks later

Lar Gand, husband of Tasmia, finished his last report. He was annoyed - at himself for staying away from his love for so long, and for not being able to make contact with her now that the mission was over. Yes, the mission was secret, but by the stars, why couldn't Dev-Em understand how trustworthy Shady was? Mon-El swore that God willing, he would not leave her behind again. If only she would reply to his messages. He reached for the life crystal tucked in his belt and held it before his eyes. By this means, he knew his wife was ok, but he would not cease his worrying until her heard her sweet voice again. Damn his sense of duty!

The next day, Lar was more than annoyed. He was alarmed! Their next rendezvous would not occur for 6 days. He went to the location he left her in their cruiser, and the cruiser was gone, with no trace. He went to earth, and she was not there, either.

How long had she been gone? Was she truly all right? Studying the life crystal intently, he thought it might be glowing a little less brightly. He cursed himself again for leaving her and said a prayer for her safety. He would not rest until he found Tasmia.

With the Legion's help, Mon-El tracked their cruiser to Talok VIII. Knowing she had gone home gave him a bit of relief as he sped to her home planet. Still, he worried. Why no communication? Was there a struggle? Lar Gand felt abandoned. And then he understood a little. "This must be how Tasmia feels when I leave her. Good going, Lar. You never want to hurt her, you say. Those years of hell weren't enough?" His thoughts raced as quickly as his flight as he sped to the cruiser, hoping to find a hint of his beloved's fate.

"Tasmia," he called out furtively, hoping against hope as he opened the cruiser. Inside he found everything as he expected. Neat, peaceful, quiet. Oh - a clue! Lar found a jotted note on a McCauley pad.

Mon. I'll probably be back before you read this but I am going on a trek. I've been getting too lazy. Love you - Shady.

So, it was not force. Tasmia did not appear to be in outside danger. Still, the note was dated over two weeks ago. Without thinking Mon-El frantically flew around the planet, trying to use his x-ray vision to find her. The natural lead deposits in the planet hindered his search, and he had no success. He listened for her voice, and heard nothing. "Shady, my love. Please be ok."

Shadow Lass could not hear him. She rested in a deep cavern, far below the mount of her ancestors. While in a medi-coma, she dreamed of watching for 1000 years. Her ancestor Lyrissa Mallor guided her among visions – of Talok in the times of old, - of the life of a young Lar Gand, and of Lar Gand's imprisonment in the Phantom Zone. "Does he still want me, Mother? Does he stay with me out of love or duty?"

"He needs you more than ever, daughter. He needs to be reminded of his own needs and humanity. Open your heart to his watching so long. Renew your spirit in the presence of your ancestors. Dream, Tasmia, and we will watch over you."

Lar did not dream or rest. He restlessly flew around Talok again and again hoping for a sign of his wife. He was so lost. He felt alone, cold, and fearful. ~Grev~ The thought appeared to him. Maybe Tasmia's cousin could help. Lar found Grev Mallor, Talok VIII's champion, almost immediately. Grev did not seem surprised to see him.

"Greetings, Lar Gand of Daxam. May your life be abundant."

"Greetings, Grev Mallor of Talok VIII. May your fortunes flourish." As soon as he finished the ceremonial greeting, he hurriedly explained his concern. "Grev - It's Tasmia — I can't find her.

"Yes, Lar. I know. My ancestress, Lydea Mallor, appeared to me in a dream last night. Tasmia is well."

"Thank the stars! Where is she?"

"That I do not know. Lydea will be your guide. She asks that you sleep, so she may appear to you. She asks you to trust her."

"For now, I have no other choice," the hero wearily replied.

"Stay with us, Lar. You are among friends. Come, I will show you to where you and Tasmia have stayed before. It may bring you some comfort." Mon-El could do nothing but comply. He felt as if he might jump out of his skin with anxiety to do something, but this was his first real lead. It did not seem like a time to sleep.

Returning to the familiar rooms did have a comforting effect on Mon- El. Memories of happy times here made him reluctantly smile. Food had already been prepared and set out for him. He was truly expected here. Now, what would Tasmia do to relax? She would bathe, or take a soak. He would try the same.

Everything there made him think of his missing wife. The bath, the food, the night. How could he have left her for so long? Reluctantly, he went to bed. Life crystal in hand, Lar Gand tossed and turned, finally drifting to sleep, thinking of his beautiful wife.

And then he saw her, but it wasn't her. It was someone who resembled her - Lydea Mallor. He recognized her from meeting her over 1,000 years ago.

"Greetings, Lar Gand of Daxam. It is good to see you, my friend," said Tasmia's ancestress.

"Greetings, Lydea Mallor of Talok. It brings my heart gladness to see you." And it did. But then he could no longer restrain himself. "Lydea...Tasmia, is she...?"

"She is well. She slumbers and dreams of times past and lessons learned. We are with her. You must wait, Lar Gand. She is not yet done. If you wish, you may seek her."

"Of course! How?"

"With your heart and senses. We ask you to travel by foot, as Tasmia has. Too long have you been in space or as the air. We invite you to walk the plains of Talok. Let it become a part of you. Peace awaits."

"How do I find her?"

"Open all of your senses - your heart, your hearing, your sense of smell. Start at Pilgrim's Point and you will find your way. Remember - do not rush. Trust that she Tasmia is well, and that you will be, too." The last words faded almost to a whisper, and Mon-El could remember no more of the dream. When we awoke he felt feeling strangely refreshed.

In the anteroom, Grev had set out provisions - a bedroll, map, water, a medikit, a writing instrument, and an old paper volume full of blank pages. Lar questioned some of the provisions and Grev simply said "for Tasmia." Mon-El nodded in agreement. He took off his cape, loosened his collar, and packed the provisions and his cape in the bag Grev provided. Finally, Grev handed him an exquisite ebony walking stick that was carved with images from Talokian mythology. It was a work of art.

"I can't accept this, Grev," Lar started to refuse.

"You must," Grev said gently. "You are meant to have it."

Grev Mallor accompanied his wife's cousin to Pilgrim's Point. He explained that this was the point that all pilgrims began their voyages to the desert. Especially those bearing the name of Mallor. He embraced Lar and left the hero to begin his journey.

At first, the quiet felt overwhelming to Lar. Then he adjusted his senses to hear the life all around him. He heard the movement of small creatures, the sounds of the wind, and the occasional beating of wings. He started to smell the textures of the arid desert -the far off scent of a desert bloom, and yes, a very faint smell of Tasmia. She had been here. He closed his eyes and listened again, this time for the sound of her heartbeat. What was that? He found it, but it was slower than normal. Realization dawned on him - the medi-suit. With the clues he had, he adjusted his vision and patiently looked for, and found, strands of her DNA. With these faint hints, he began his journey.

Step by step, Lar became more and more aware of his surroundings. He had always loved the icy coldness of space and the lush vegetation of his native Daxam. With each step he learned to see the beauty of the desert. The desert plain had poetry similar to space. The rocks in the sand formed their own constellations. Mon-El saw that life could adapt and continue - even in the harshest circumstances.

At night he forced himself to close his eyes and rest, in hopes of receiving more guidance from the Mallor ghosts. True, he did not suffer from nightmares like he did in the years before his marriage; but still, he hated sleeping without Tasmia. He lit an evening fire for comfort more than warmth. Lar tried to adapt a meditative pose and breathed deeply, trying to slow down and listen for his wife's heartbeat. He took some relief in knowing he was getting closer to his beloved. Her heartbeat was slow and strong and… was that a sigh he heard? Oh, the sweet sound of her voice. Gods, he missed her, but he felt hope, and he slept.

A few hours later Lar awoke with a thought in his mind - walk in the night. See Talok through Tasmia's eyes. Lar heeded the voice. He packed up the camp and set out once again to seek his wife.

Lar continued his trek for two more days. He was surprised at his restraint from flying to Tasmia's side, now that he knew how to find her. He instinctively knew that this journey was for him as much as for Tasmia. 1,000 years he had waited without hope. This was a different kind of waiting. One that he could be active in and peaceful about. He grew to love Talok like another home. Strange - for a man who loved space, he was drawn to Daxam, Earth, and now Talok VIII. He loved running his fingers through the cool dirt at night and washing his face in small running brooks. There was much to explore here, too. Lar Gand remembered lessons of his childhood-- that the Spirit was in the small details as well as the grandeurs of the infinite.

As he moved closer and closer to the cave of the Talokian ancestors, Mon-El wondered what Tasmia was experiencing. Was she dreaming? Were her dreams pleasant? Did she dream of him? Did she know how much he loved her? Maybe he had not told her or showed her enough. Gods, he missed her. His heart ached with the absence of his wife.

With these thoughts he came to a large rock formation. He closed his eyes, listened, and realized he could here Tasmia close by. He started to look for openings and felt impatient again. He would punch through the rock if he had to, sacred caves or not. Before he could take action he heard, or felt- Wait. The voice - that was the voice from his dreams. Must he sleep again? Must he wait more? The patience he felt days ago had vanished. "Please, I have to see her" he said aloud. "I left her for so long."

"We know. Wait," replied the voice.

With a heart-breaking sigh, Mon-El dropped his bundles and leaned his head against the cave. He would respect the wishes of the ancestors but he did not like it.

Half-heartedly, he made camp again. He tried to place the bedroll closest to where he heard Tasmia's heartbeat. He could smell her scent around him but he could not go to her. It was as if the Ancestors had placed a spell of restraint upon him. All he could do was pray and trust that we would be with his wife again - soon.

Listening to his beloved's heartbeat so near, he slept. Lar saw Lydea again, along with Lyrissa Mallor and others of the Mallor clan he did not know. Dreaming, he bowed to the heroic Mallor forebears. They spoke, all at once, with a single, thunderous voice. "Rise, Lar Gand of Daxam; it is almost time..."

"...for the rest of your life," continued a single voice - from Lydea. "Many wounds have healed in your heart, but many have not. The Earth - Daxam - Talok - the soil brings healing. Life is all around you. Embrace it. You were isolated for so long that it is in space that you feel most at home. But home has its own comforts, if you will let yourself enjoy them."

"Tasmia?" Lar asked, voice full of concern.

"She needed the nourishment of her soil and reassurance of her place in your heart. She longed to be of more comfort to you, isolated in your memories. We allowed to experience visions of what you have seen."

"No!" winced Mon-El. "The pain!"

"And the joy. Tasmia is strong and she is wise. You have forgotten some of the good things you have seen - such as small kindnesses, love, and faith. Tasmia will be able to share some of these memories with you. But..." At this point Lydea took on the tone of a protective parent "As we have embraced you to the clan of Mallor, so should you embrace our daughter Tasmia. We have gifted you with an understanding of what she has felt - to be left waiting. Use this to grow and love well."

It was still dark when Mon-El awoke. He listened for Tasmia's heartbeat, and with joy realized it was growing stronger. She was finally waking up. "May I go to her?" He asked the night.

"Yes," answered the wind.

This time, with patience and faith, Lar sought an opening. Taking the medikit and some provisions, he followed the sound of her heartbeat into the caverns. At last, he found her. The life crystal in his hand slowly grew brighter. She was encased in the medi-suit, lying prone on the ground. Lar kneeled at her side and gently held her hand. The controls of the suit indicated it was safe to release the head covering. As he did so, Tasmia's breathing started to deepen. Lar bent to kiss her and her eyes began to flutter. Thank the stars!

"Hello, sleeping beauty," he said with a choked voice.

Tasmia opened per eyes groggily. At first disoriented, she focused on Lar. "Hi," she smiled weakly. "What time is it?"

Lar smiled back with relief. It was a normal, lucid, if strange comment.

"Time for you to wake up, my heart. Welcome back from the land of nod. I've missed you, Shady!"

"And I've missed you, Mon." Weakly, she tried to fumble with the rest of the medi-suit. Quickly, Lar began to help.

"Take it easy, Love. You've been down here three weeks. Let me help you."

"Thirsty," Tasmia said quietly. She hated to show physical weakness.

Lar brought a flask of cool water to her lips. Tasmia resisted the impulse to drink too quickly. "Ahhh." she sighed in satisfaction.

"Let's get you out of this suit, Shady. Maybe we should get you medical attention."

"I'm ok - just wobbly," resolutely said the young heroine as her husband helped her to stand.

"Let me get you out of here, Love."

"Just a minute, Mon."

Tasmia bent to her knees in a sense of prayer of thanksgiving for her safe journey. Lar offered his own silent thanks to her ancestors as well as the one spirit of his people. Then he quickly gathered up Tasmia, the medi-suit, and supplies and returned to camp. Lar restarted the fire and tried not to hover as Tasmia stretched, relieved herself, and continued to wake up.

"Tasmia, how do you feel?"

"Still at little groggy. I'll bet I look like hell! And I'm ravenous."

"You've never looked more beautiful," Lar said sincerely.

Tasmia sat quietly for a while, looking thoughtful. She looked at Lar with her face looking unusually vulnerable. "Mon, I have to admit something." Tasmia's eyes were serious. "I started worrying...I feared I was a burden to you. That you were staying with me out of duty..."

In less than an instant Lar rushed to her side and placed his hands upon her shoulders. Looking into her eyes, he said solemnly "NEVER think that again, Tasmia. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you and your love."

She tried to continue. "That's..."

"Nothing. No buts. You are my joy, my anchor, and my eternal heart. I am so sorry for causing you to doubt that. I never want to leave you like that again. Oh, Tasmia. Lydea appeared to me. I wish you wouldn't have gone through so much." Lar's eyes glistened with tears.

"Hush, my love," Tasmia said gently as she embraced him. "I would do anything for you. Remember that time your serum failed?" Lar nodded. "If we had not found a cure I would have joined you."

Lar knew she meant the Phantom Zone. "No, Tasmia! Not that! Never!" He held her close. "Why do you endure so much for me?"

"Because I love you, my Sweet. Because we are meant to be together." And this time, when she said that, he understood. The reunited spouses held each other until the fire died down the sun rose. Their love had been renewed - his by following in the footsteps of his beloved and her ancestors. Hers by sharing n the visions that haunted him. Yet by being shared, they haunted him less.

The next day saw the heroes gathering their parcels and returning tot he city. Later that year the animals of the desert witnessed a strange sight. Not too far from the Ancestral caves of the Mallor family, lightning speed, grew a small hillside abode. It was an oasis in the desert with a garden overlooking the ancestral caves. Where two, later three, then four, figures would sit, hold hands, and find their souls restored.