“Your father must also be disconsolate. Come, I know this is unbearably hard, but let us get back to them,” and E’ranale turned and guided Krin away.
They found Oragur clutching his mate’s still body to his own. In the corner stood Irisa, an older friend of Lor Onida’s. The offling was in her arms, warmly wrapped up, as Oragur rocked all he had left of Lor Onida.
E’ranale wanted to approach but felt it would be an intrusion. “Please tell the Healer I stopped by. I will immediately arrange a wet nurse for the offling and send her to you. Can you care for her for now?”
“Temporarily, yes,” said Irisa.
“Thank you. Krin, do you want to stay here or perhaps spend the day with me? It is not good for you to be alone right now.”
“What will become of my—my mother’s offling?” Krin asked. “I am almost old enough to raise her, but my father refuses. And my other sisters are even younger.”
“Do not worry about that for the moment. You, your sisters, and your father have too much to deal with right now. Irisa will keep her for the moment, and we will find a wet nurse to help with her care. Now, come, let us go back to my quarters, and I will keep you company while you try to rest.”
Once there, E’ranale sat next to Krin, waiting for the young female to fall asleep. Great Spirit, what will happen now? Not only had Lor Onida’s offling lost their mother, and their father his mate, but Kthama had lost one of its Healers.
Two days passed, and Oragur kept to himself. He had not left their living quarters, refusing most of the food that was brought to him. He also refused to see his new daughter. When they were with him, he barely spoke to Krin, her older brothers, or her younger sisters.
Moc’Tor felt that enough time had passed and insisted on seeing Oragur. He entered the Healer’s Quarters to find Oragur on his own, lying on a sleeping mat and facing the wall.
“Oragur, I do not pretend to understand the depth of your pain, and there is nothing I can say to console you. I can only imagine how I would feel if I lost E’ranale.”
Oragur said nothing, not moving or in any way acknowledging the Guardian’s presence.
“If there is anything you need, only ask. But at some point, you must accept your new daughter and move on. We will find someone to help you raise her until her sisters are old enough to be of more help.”
Oragur turned over abruptly and sat up.
“I never want to see it. If it were up to me, it would be thrown into the Great River and returned to the Great Spirit.”
“The offling is not to blame,” said Moc’Tor. “You know better than that. It is your heartbreak speaking.”
“Whatever is speaking, my feelings will not change. I never expected to be paired, and then Lor Onida came along. And then, one by one, we had our offling, and our joy multiplied. Every other birthing went well, so why did this one not? And now she is gone, and I cannot live life without her. That thing you wish me to accept is the reason she was taken from me.”
“We cannot wait any longer. We need to lay Lor Onida’s husk to rest.”
“I will not attend; nothing is there for me. I know she is gone; I said my goodbyes while she was still warm in my arms.”
“Very well. I will leave you to your sorrow. You know where to find me.”
“Do not wait for that to happen. My other offling and I will be leaving soon. I will never find peace at Kthama—my Saraste’ is everywhere I look. I will take my family, and we will move to the Deep Valley. Perhaps I can find peace with them where there is nothing there to remind me of Lor Onida. She has family at the Far High Hills, and I do not wish to see them. I want no new reminders of her, and I do not wish to see the offling that killed her.”
Moc’Tor left the Healer to his suffering and went to find E’ranale.
“Oragur will not accept the child. He wants nothing to do with her,” he told his mate.
“She is with Nisere now,” said E’ranale, “who has just had her own offling and can nurse her. But we must make more permanent arrangements. Nisere cannot raise her, and we cannot keep passing her around. The news has brought great sadness to the community, and I am sure someone would be prepared to take her, even knowing that it may be temporary if Oragur comes out of this at some stage. Lor Onida’s other offling are too young yet to be of help.”
Moc’Tor let out a long, deep breath.
“Oragur told me he is taking his other daughters and their brother and moving to the Deep Valley, where there will be nothing to remind him of Lor Onida. Perhaps in time, he will change his mind. But I do not see it in the foreseeable future. His faith in the Great Spirit was deep, and now his despair is equally deep.”
“Mama,” interrupted Pan. “I would take her.”
Both Moc’Tor and E’ranale turned to look at their daughter.
“You are not even paired, Pan. And you are a Guardian,” Moc’Tor said, too quickly.
“I do not understand, father? You are a Guardian, and yet you have offling.”
“Yes, but—” Moc’Tor stopped short of saying it was different because he was a male Guardian, and she was female.
E’ranale chuckled, reading Moc’Tor’s mind.
“Your father is right, Pan. And not because you are the first-ever female Guardian, but because you have not even begun to take on your full role. You are still learning. This is not the time for you to embrace motherhood as well.”
“On the contrary, Mother. Since I am not, as you said, fully encumbered by the responsibilities of a Guardian, it seems the perfect time. By the time I have to assume those responsibilities, this offling could well be full-grown.”
E’ranale looked at her mate. She leaned in and whispered, “Your turn.”
“I am not sure I have anything else to say,” he replied.
“You know I can hear you both,” smiled Pan.
“All right,” said E’ranale. “You are grown enough to make your own decisions. But you must be prepared to relinquish the offling if, or when Oragur changes his mind.”
“Or you could pair with him,” said Moc’Tor, his eyes twinkling.
“Ohhhhhh! He is far too old for me. You are just getting even because you lost this debate.”
“Maybe,” he smiled. “I still suggest that we make the offer to the community first, Pan. We do not want to use our positions unfairly, and she will need a wet nurse for some time.”
“I understand. I will accept whatever decision is made.”
That afternoon, Moc’Tor sent an announcement to the females in the community. Whether they were afraid of Oragur changing his mind, even though he had said he was leaving, or had heard rumors that Pan wanted the offling, no one came forward to claim her.
Before too long, Pan was holding Lor Onida’s newest and last daughter. She looked down at the tiny bundle wrapped in the soft hide reserved for newborns and rejoiced in the feel of the tiny fingers wrapped around one of her own. She looked into the innocent eyes that gazed back at her with only trust and the longing to be loved.
“Did Oragur name her?” Pan asked.
“No,” E’ranale said. “But Krin told me that their mother did before she died. Her name is Liru.”
“Liru. I will make sure you know how much your mother loved you. And I will do my best to be as good a mother as she would have been.” You are such a joy. How am I ever to explain it to you? That it was through no fault of your own that your father wants nothing to do with you. Liru’s tiny, beautiful heart should not have to bear such a burden, ever.
Pan wiped away a tear and then went back to cuddling the tiny miracle she held in her arms.
Over the next few days, the Leader’s Quarters were modified to create a nest for Liru. E’ranale stood admiring it when the other females had left after helping her set it up.
Moc’Tor came in and stood behind his mate, his hands resting on her shoulders. “This will do for now, but since Pan is older, perhaps she needs a place of her own?”
E’ranale turned
to look at her mate. “A place of her own?”
“Before too long, Liru will be crawling. If Pan is going to raise this offling, she should establish some independence about it. She will still need Nisere’s help as long as Liru needs to nurse, but she must move out. And we need some privacy back. After all, Vel, Inrion, and Dak’Tor all left long ago.”
E’ranale squinted at her mate. “So that is it? You are tired of sneaking around when she is gone, trying to fit in our lovemating. Admit it!”
Moc’Tor smiled. “No, that is not it. But now that you mention it—” and Moc’Tor placed his hands on E’ranale’s face and hungrily pressed his lips against hers.
At that moment, Pan entered and stopped suddenly, “Oh! Am I interrupting something?”
Moc’Tor released his mate, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head.
“Daughter,” said E’ranale, “There is something we need to discuss.”
Moc’Tor once again stood facing the Leaders from the other communities. “I have invited you here to continue our practice of meeting on and off, but also because I have some very sad news. Tres’Sar from the Far High Hills and Hatos’Mok of the Deep Valley already know what has happened, but others of you do not.
“Oragur, our Healer who paired with the Healer Lor Onida many years ago, has left Kthama. He has taken his son and three daughters with him to the Deep Valley. Lor Onida died giving birth to their latest offling, and he found it unbearable to remain here.”
Moc’Tor waited for the murmuring to die down. The loss of anyone, let alone a Healer, was deeply felt.
“Lor Onida’s last offling is being cared for by my daughter, Pan. Lest you entertain considerations of favoritism in this decision, I canvased our females, and no one claimed her. Before returning to the Great Spirit, Lor Onida named the offling. Her name is Liru.”
Moc’Tor paced around the front of the room a moment, head down, before continuing.
“With the loss of both Lor Onida and Oragur, at the moment, Kthama has no Healer. Lor Onida’s eldest daughter, Krin, was apprenticing with her parents but had not progressed far enough to take over. And, of course, she has left with her father. With this in mind, I propose that we consider whether each community should have more than one Healer. I further propose that we should consider whether Healers should be allowed to be paired and have offling.” Moc’Tor stopped again, waiting for the backlash.
Hatos’Mok from the Deep Valley was the first to speak. “At the moment, we have two Healers now that Oragur has left Kthama and joined my community. We are not as many as you, and I can attest that having more than one Healer is comforting. But those called to be Healers are not that common. And if we cut off their bloodline through forbidding them to have offling, how is that furthering our cause of avoiding a shortage?”
Tres’Sar stood. “To the first point, having more than one Healer would be a luxury. We do well to come up with one to replace the current one before he or she returns to the Great Spirit. As for not allowing them to pair, I understand what Tres’Sar is stating—however, not every Healer’s offling becomes a Healer. We do not know whether there is a blood component or not—it is not consistent.”
The discussion continued for some time. In the end, the council agreed to establish the position of an official Helper to each Healer. In this way, at least the practical aspects of the profession would be passed on should a community lose its Healer.
“This has been a productive meeting.” And Moc’Tor summed up the conversation. “It is agreed that the Healers will each select a helper to work with them. The helper will learn the selection and gathering of the herbs and supplies and anything else about the healing trade, including the practices of basic care. Should another tragedy ensue and a Healer is lost, at least the knowledge will be preserved to pass on to the next Healer. It is a workable compromise since, as several of you have stated, Healers are in short supply, to begin with.”
Tres’Sar spoke again, “If Lor Onida were here, she would be reminding us that we need to record our decisions. Did she not write down the Sacred Laws that we and the Sassen agreed on before the division? Does anyone know where she put them? They need to be transferred to the Wall of Records at Kthama Minor.”
“If anyone knows, it would be her mate, Oragur,” said Hatos’Mok. “I will ask him when I return.
“While we are assembled, however, there is another matter of bloodlines we should address,” said Tres’Sar. All heads turned to follow him as he walked to the front of the room and stood next to Moc’Tor.
“As we have learned, the loss of a Healer can be devastating. I put it to you that the loss of a Leader would be equally devastating. Up until now, it has not been a requirement that Leaders pair and produce offling. But if we are going to set rules about pairing and mating for Healers, we should consider them for the Leaders also.”
Some in the group turned to one another, frowning and shaking their heads.
“Is that really necessary? Have we ever had a Leader who did not pair?” asked Hatos’Mok.
“No,” answered Tres’Sar. “Not in my memory; however, we have never lost a Healer prematurely either. We are speaking of possibilities here.”
Moc’Tor spoke next, “I agree with both points. And since there is little risk of a Leader not pairing and producing offling, I see no harm in a rule that states they must. We might also consider what our recourse is should an heir not be produced.”
“That has an easy solution,” said Solok’Tar from the Great Pines. “We simply find someone else in the bloodline.”
The others nodded in agreement. “As long as we continue to implement the pairing guidelines and the selection of mates by the council, it would help return some of our culture to normal.”
Moc’Tor thought a moment, wondering if things would ever be normal again. “The Leader should be allowed to choose his own mate without the council’s participation. The role of the Leader’s mate is crucial to his ability to function efficiently. And the Leader’s mate is often his closest counsel.”
He gave them a few moments to look around and see if they were in accord. This time the entire group nodded in agreement; Moc’Tor’s logic was self-evident. “It is late, and I am sure you are tired. We have decided then, in the matter of the Healers, we are establishing a Helper position. We are also agreeing that Leaders should choose their own mates, and should the union produce no offling, another in the bloodline will be selected. I did not hear agreement on whether Healers can continue to pair and have offling. We will discuss that in future meetings when we have had more time to think it over individually. If there is nothing else, then let us go to the evening meal.”
Moc’Tor walked into the Leader’s Quarters just as Pan was leaving with Liru. He carefully hugged his daughter as she walked by.
“We were just deciding where her quarters would be. Not too far away, but far enough,” E’ranale chuckled. “How did the council meeting go?”
“It was productive. What do you think about Healers not being allowed to pair and have offling?”
“This is because of Lor Onida’s death?” asked E’ranale.
Moc’Tor nodded.
E’ranale sighed. “On one hand, I do not like it because it denies a Healer the greatest blessing there is—that of a loving mate and offling of their own. On the other hand, it would facilitate greater dedication to their calling. Without the influence of a mate, he or she would be more independent.”
“That is a good point. I was just saying how important selecting the right mate is. You are my closest and wisest counsel. You lighten my burdens every day. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be paired with someone I could not trust or turn to.”
E’ranale could see that Moc’Tor was tired. “It is late. Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Let me bring you something to eat, and we can sit together while you tell me about the rest of the discussion. It feels as if everything here is starting to settle down
. I do wonder, though, how Straf’Tor is faring at Kayerm.”
Straf’Tor sat next to the evening fire, which was just getting going. His son by a mating with Toniss, many years ago at Kthama, came to join him.
Straf’Tor motioned for him to sit.
“It is a fine evening,” said Nox’Tor.
“Indeed it is. How is your mother?” He’d had little contact with Toniss in the time since she had chosen Trak as her mate, even though the couple had traveled to Kayerm with the rest of Straf’Tor’s followers.
“Mother is fine, but she is having a hard time adjusting to life here,” he said quietly.
Straf’Tor put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “And how are you doing with it?”
“I would like to be paired.”
Straf’Tor raised his eyebrows. “Do you have a female in mind?”
Nox’Tor blinked. “Is it not the female’s right to choose?”
“Hmph,” Straf’Tor replied. “Yes, there is that, but I am Leader now. Do you have your eye on someone?”
A huge smile crossed Nox’Tor’s face. “Kyana.”
“A fine choice. Does she return your interest?”
Nox’Tor nodded.
“Then tell her of your desire for her, and we will make it official. Let me know when you are ready, and I will call everyone together.”
Nox’Tor practically jumped up and ran back into Kayerm in search of Kyana.
Straf’Tor let out a long slow breath. That took the pressure off. If Nox’Tor and Kyana produced offling, then he could stop worrying about whether or not he ever seeded Ushca. Nox’Tor was the logical choice to replace him, though Straf’Tor hoped it would not be sometime soon. He was not ready to be parted from his beloved Ushca, and times were still turbulent; he would never place on anyone else that burden of leading such a divided community. Nothing I have tried has healed the rift between Ridg’Sor’s rebel group and my people—and there is also their resentment of the Sassen. At least matters seemed to have settled down for the time being—and there were considerably fewer rebels compared to the rest of the population.
The Age of Darkness: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness Book 1 (The Etera Chronicles Series Two - Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness) Page 13
