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Old 01-12-2005, 06:01 PM   #314
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
 
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A conversation between Ráma and Narika

Ráma slowly made her way back through the small cluster of mourners that still circled the ring of ashes; the latter was the only physical evidence remaining of the three days of mourning now drawing to a close. The moon stood high in the heavens. In just a few hours it would be dawn. She stopped and lingered at the entry to the tent, glancing over her shoulder at the vast expanse of sand extending southward, an ocean of blackness enshrouded in heavy shadow. Her sister already awaited her. Narika crouched near the dying embers of the hearth and idly fingered her mother’s ceremonial brooch with its flying eagle engraved in silver over a base of jade. With all its beauty and memories, the piece would belong to her as head of the clan after the Elders met later that morning.

“Come inside.” Narika gestured to her sister. “Only an hour or two till we overturn the pot. Lay down and rest a while.”

“I cannot. I am restless. There is still much to do.” Ráma hesitated as she wondered whether this was a good time to bring up what Ayar had said. Impulsively, she reached out to touch her sister’s hand. “You and I must talk. I have put this off too long. The afternoon before mother died, she spoke of several things. She planned to share all this with you the next day….” At this juncture, Ráma’s voice trailed off.

“I knew you were bothered by something, even beyond mother’s death. What is it? Speak, and I will help if I can.”

“Mother said the time for talking had passed. You and Thorn must marry and jointly lead the Eagles. Ride out to the other clans and speak with all who will listen, urging them to come together. Use every sword and talon, every tooth and claw, to combat Wyrma and her ilk. That is what she told me.”

“It brings me little joy to take arms against my own kin,” responded Narika with a sigh, “but Thorn and I have come to feel that we have no other choice. If Wyrma is not stopped, the Eagles and all others who follow the old nomadic ways will be destroyed.”

“There is something else,” Ráma noted. “Mother said the strangers may be willing to help us, and we should not turn away from them.”

A look of displeasure flitted over Narika’s face, one that was slowly replaced by a calmer and more thoughtful gaze. She chose her reply with care, “At one time not long ago, I would have scorned such a thought, but as I know these men better—especially this Aiwendil---my feelings have softened. Perhaps these outsiders are meant to be here. It is likely the strangers will flee at the first hint of war. And even if they are willing to stay, I can not promise what others will say. But I give you my word: I will not oppose them or you in any reasonable request.

“In fact,” she added with a hint of a smile, “Perhaps, I will ask Thorn to put you in charge of keeping track of them. That would serve you right. Is that all, then?”

Visibly relaxed and emboldened, Rama continued, “There was something else. Mother related an ancient tale how Thorondor and the other Great Eagles befriended our clan in return for some small service we’d done for an injured eaglet. Because of this, he granted us the gift of taking the eagle form.”

“I have also heard this. But how does it involve Wyrma?”

“Mother spoke of an ancient promise. The Eagles swore to come to our aid if the clan ever found itself in terrible peril. She even mentioned a wise woman dwelling in the southern mountains called Ayka. Ayka may know where these Eagles are and can help us find them. I must go south and beg her assistance. And not only the Eagles,” she continued, “Mother even spoke of wyrms--members of the dragon clan who scorn Wyrma and her evil ways. Perhaps they too can join our fight. ”

“Stop, Ráma. Enough.” Narika raised her hand as if to ward off any consideration of these ideas. “You have a strong sword arm, and Thorn would welcome you into the ranks of those who fight. Do not waste time chasing after old dreams.”

“But these are not my ideas. They are Mother’s, and she spoke with great urgency. I dare not ignore the promise I made to her, nor would I wish to do so.” Ráma planted her feet apart and glared obstinately at her sister.

“I can see nothing good coming from such fancies. Perhaps near the end, Mother was confused, with all the poison spreading through her body. But if you feel compelled to follow this course, do what you must. There should be a group going south to alert the clans in that region. Go with them. Take a few friends and make a quiet side trip to visit this strange maenwaith who lives by herself in the mountains. You will probably find her old and addled with little of worth to share. But at least you will have done your duty and can come back with a clear heart. Only say nothing of this to the Elders, for some are less friendly to Thorn, and they would laugh at such silliness or use it as a pretext to stand against him.”

“Thank you. I will tell only a few, and those whom I trust. Not a word to the Elders, I promise.”

At that instant there was a slight stirring outside the entrance to the tent. Narika went to look if anyone was there, but she saw no one. “Only the wind,” she reported. Come now. With all our chattering, the remaining night has fled. It is dawn. We should go now to overturn the pot.” With that the women headed out of the tent. The period of mourning had ended; the time for action had come.

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 02-01-2005 at 03:23 PM.
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