Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One (23 page)

Her face bore streaks where tears had washed away the dirt.  Her
eyes were
rimmed with red.  But behind her physical appearance, there was something else
.  Something intangible.

Shifting
to the perspective of the Eternal Realm, Sariel recognized it immediately.  Where once had been despair, the woman’s core radiated with hope.

*   *   *   *

The setting sun cast silver s
hafts of light
across the path, looking as tangible as tree trunks that had been bent over by the wind.  Sheyir walked slowly across the damp soil, enjoying the alternating light and shadow
s falling across her face
as she passed
through
the silent forest. 
Now that preparations were ready for the celebration, she
was going
inform her father that the people were expecting his arrival.

But her feet moved slowly,
hesitantly
.  She wasn’t in a hurry to begin the celebration like the rest of her people
, f
or this type of occasion was usually when a betrothal w
ould be
announced. 
W
hile Sariel’s recent success was sure to have impressed her father, the elder had no knowledge of their feelings for each other.  In time, Sariel would gain the respect of her father, but
she doubted it would happen before her impending marriage to her uncle.  Still, her father had not yet announced their engagement and she wondered if it might be because he was holding back to see how events would transpire with this newcomer to the Chatsiyr tribe.

I hope that’s the reason!

Her father’s house slowly came into view.  It was a massive structure of thick tree trunks and intricately woven saplings, with
a tall, thatch roof.  She’d grown up within its walls, but now that she lived elsewhere with the older children, it seemed just as foreign and distant as her father.  The sight of it, looming in the mist, seemed to remind her that her father was often unpredictable; as if the house itself were telling her,
y
ou’ll be married before Sariel can do anything about it!

Sheyir
stopped just before the raised platform that served as the floor. 
Her body seemed unwilling to
go forward
.  It refused to walk into a future that left her bound to someone she didn’t love.  Her ears didn’t want to hear the words that would change her life forever.  And yet, over her throbbing heart, voices rang clear.

“You only care for power!
 
For
dathrah
, n
ot tradition
!
”
  It was her uncle’s voice.

“I will do as I wish, and you will obey it,” her father replied.  “That is tradition.”

A quick silence followed and Sheyir
cautiously
removed her foot from the first step leading
up to the door.

“He’s not one of us.  But you have decided already.”

“I have decided nothing!  I have only told you to wait,” her father replied.  “Why does it matter so much to you?  You have many wives.”

There was a long pause this time and Sheyir leaned forward to hear her uncle’s answer, but there was no reply.

A series of rapid footsteps suddenly grew louder.

Sheyir backed away from the steps.

An instant later, her
uncle came through the doorway.  His head snapped to the side and his angry glare
settled
on her, while his wide body
lumbered
down the steps.  When he reached the ground, he exhaled quickly through his nose and stomped off in
to the trees, heading away from the village.

Sheyir swallowed hard and watched him go.  The look on his face had been terrifying.  But it seemed that Sariel’s efforts were having an effect.  At least for tonight, she didn’t have to worry about an announcement.

And this thought caused a smile to
slowly
spread across her face.

*   *   *   *

It had been three days since the tribe had freed the sick man from the evil spirits that inhabited his body.  Already,
he
was looking healthier. 
C
olor had returned to his skin
and
his gaunt frame
had begun to
thicken each day with regular meals.
  His w
ife, once an outcast, was
enjoying the restoration of her family’s status among the tribe.

In
the spirit
of the celebration that Sheyir’s father
decreed,
Sariel thought it was the perfect time to introduce the Chatsiyram to something that many other human tribes had already discovered for themselves—fire.  After instructing the tribe not to be alarmed at the dangerous, but useful element, he enlisted the men’s help in digging a pit in the center of the meeting place.  Using some old thatch from a run-down shelter, Sariel showed the men how to use friction to generate embers which could be coaxed into a flame.  Once lit,
he explained that adding denser
materials
would prevent it from burning itself out.  Being expert builders, the men took quickly to the concepts and marveled at Sariel’s vast wisdom.

Now, under an evening sky, the tribe gathered around the blaze and enjoyed its mesmerizing appearance and the warmth it provided.  While the children danced in the background, the women roasted a variety of fruits as Sariel had shown them.  When the meal was ready, Sariel watched the expressions on the men’s faces as they tasted the
intensified, sweetened flavors.
 
It seemed that this new technique would be popular among the tribe.

“In all the
three
hundred and twelve cycles of the sun that I’ve lived, I’ve never seen or heard anything
of its kind
,” Sheyir’s father said.

Sariel turned around quickly,
startled
by the
older man’s
stealthy approach.  “I’m pleased you like it.”

“Ha
!
” the old man barked, as he came alongside and lowered himself to the ground.  “I don’t mean the dancing light or the food,” he corrected.  “What you did
about the sickness.
  You have great
d
athrah
, beyond anything I know.”

Sariel smiled.  “I told you I came to help.”

The elder turned his gaze to the dancing light, as he called it, and his eyes seemed to look past the flames.  After a moment, his face widened into a grin.  “My name is
Yeduah
.  And I’m honored to meet you.”

O
ver
Yeduah
’s hunched
silhouette, Sheyir
stood a few paces back, illuminated by the dancing flames.  She
place
d
a hand over her mouth
and turned away,
her eyes glisten
ing
with tears
.

“My name is Sariel.  And I’m honored to meet you,” he replied.

Pri-Rada
Himel
of the Iryllur stood with his arms crossed, overlooking an immense valley of lush forests and meadows. 
Between the patches of brilliant green hues, a river of crisp blue cut across the landscape, breaking into smaller tributaries as it neared the horizon. 
Himel
’s six wings lay against his back in resting position; but even retracted, their enormous size was intimidating.

The Pri-Rada turned his head and looked back over his shoulder as Sariel approached.  “Join me,”
he said
quietly
.

After
looking back at the two massive guards standing a few paces away on each flank,
Sariel stepped up to the edge of the cliff
and joined
his superior.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,”
Himel
asked
softly
.

Sariel knew the Iryllur was leading up to something—making a point, but he
decided to play along anyway.
  “Yes, my Rada.”

“Would you have this valley given over to the
Marotru
?”

“No, my Rada.  Of course not.”

The Pri-Rada continued to stare out across the vastness of
the tranquil
beauty
before them
.  “Then why
have you come to me instead of working through your immediate superior, unless to voice your disagreement with the mission to a higher authority?”

There’s the point
, Sariel thought.  “My Rada. 
I do, indeed, disagree with the mission.  But it is not because I want to see the enemy win.  I am Iryllur, just as you are.  I remain faithful.”

“But you are not…just as I,” the Pri-Rada countered, without raising his voice.  He turned
his head
to look at Sariel and his numerous wings flexed slightly.
  “The higher orders have been tasked with thinking, and the lower orders with doing.”

Sariel felt suddenly aware of his
own
wings—inferior in both size and quantity.  He looked to the ground for a moment, then turned to the Pri-Rada.  “Then why did
you
agree to meet, if not to hear my concerns?”

The superior turned his gaze back to the valley and crossed his arms.  “
…b
ecause I have concerns of my own.  When someone under my authority voices opposition to our mission, it is a problem—”

“Regardless of the reason?” Sariel asked quickly.

The Pri-Rada inhaled slowly
, pausing for a moment before answering
.  “Regardless
..
.
”

Sariel could see his superior’s
irritation
mounting, but his own frustration was quickly becoming more of a concern.

“
The
Viytur
gather and analyze the intelligence. 
Myself, and the other Pri-Radas, turn the intelligence into useable information.  And you soldiers act on it,” he explained calmly, as if to a new recruit.

“I know the process!” Sariel blurted out
, unable to control himself in the face of such ridicule
.  “I’m questioning the intelligence.  Why are you assigning my strike team to this operation?”

Himel
turned his body to face Sariel and all six of his wings flared out to the extent of their reach.  “Are you afraid of your mission?”

Sariel stepped backward and suddenly noticed that the guards had come a few steps forward.  “No, my Rada.”

“Are you one of the
Marotru
?”

“No, my Rada!”

“Are you
faithful to the Holy One
?”

“YES, MY RADA!
”

“ARE YOU A SOLDIER?”

“YES, MY RADA!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“
RADA TALAD
!”

Sariel’s body shook as he woke.  His skin was damp with sweat.  He was lying on the ground, looking up at the
inside of a
thatched roof
.  He lay still for a moment, breathing deeply as if fear
and anger
were
things
that this body could rid itself of with each exhale.  When he composed himself, he climbed to his feet and
walked out of the shelter into the morning light.

*   *   *   *

“Come back soon and tell me what you find,”
Sheyir heard her father say
.

Yeduah
and Sariel were standing on the outskirts of the village, speaking in private. 
Sheyir’s
heart was racing as she hid among the trees, listening to the exchange between the two men.

Why i
s he leaving?

She had
not
spied on anyone since her childhood
, but it seemed to be a regular occurrence lately.  She wished it wasn’t necessary, but since Sariel had arrived, many unusual things were happening in her village and she couldn’t
contain
her curiosity.
  Reaching up, she parted the vines and peered through the leaves.

Sariel nod
ded, t
hen turned
and walked
into the trees to the north.

Where is he going?

Sheyir waited until her father
moved
back toward the village before she left her hiding place.  Running as swiftly and quietly as
possible
, she paralleled the path that
Sariel
had taken.
A moment later, she stood on the eastern bank of the
stream
that flowed
from
Bahyith
toward Arar Gahiy.  In her haste, she had passed him, and now
searched in panic until she saw him coming along
the shore.