View Single Post
Old 04-22-2004, 08:15 AM   #177
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
 
Child of the 7th Age's Avatar
 
Join Date: Mar 2002
Posts: 5,135
Child of the 7th Age is a guest of Tom Bombadil.
Ráma

Ráma sunk to the ground exhausted, frustrated at her seeming inability to reclaim her human shape. She slept fitfully for several hours, as uncomfortable memories surfaced in snatches of dream. She had glimpses of herself chasing after Narika, unable to catch up with her. Just at the point she managed to draw even, Thorn flew between the two sisters in the guise of an Eagle and sternly forbade Ráma to continue.

As children, she and Narika had been virtually inseparable. Yet, however similar they were in appearance, the girls' temperament and interests were markedly different even at this young age. And since their mother was clan leader, this dissimilarity was a matter of public note. Their personal attributes were the subject of frequent if private discussion among the elders, a situation that Ayar disliked but could do little to change.

Ráma had been the rash, impetuous child who rode through the desert like a storm and outran the boys in footraces. She was warm and spontaneous, bubbling over with gaity, a little butterfly who had trouble sitting still. Interested in everything that was not between the pages of a book, she talked with outsiders whenever she could, even though the elders had explicitly warned her not to do so. She did not openly scorn tradition, but was willing to question certain practices if these seemed to interfere with more important things. Her personal inclination was to deal with problems head on, and although she was far from belligerent, she was not afraid to fight.

It was not that the elders expected Ráma to sit home quietly embroidering tea napkins. No one in the clan felt that way. Both men and women could take on the shape of dangerous beasts, so it made little sense to pigeonhole girls or discourage them from leading an active life. If Ráma had been the eldest daughter in a lesser household, her prowess with weapons and her willingness to battle for what she believed would have earned praise and encouragement.

But she was not the eldest daughter of a lesser household: her position was more critical to the clan. Although clan governance was not hereditary, many a bright son or daughter stepped forward to become the next leader, either individually, or in tandem with a beloved spouse. Rama's impetuous nature, her tendency to strike back and ask questions later, even her willingness to deal with the outside world, made the elders nervous. For long years, the maenwaith had safeguarded their heritage by maintaining a fierce independence, using deception and deceit to trick enemies and then slinking off laughing into the shadows. Preserving the peace by trickery was deemed far more honorable than engaging in open warfare with its resulting loss of life.

Narika seemed to embody those traditions that stood at the core of the maenwaith heart. Grave and reflective, she had been a gentle child who loved lore and old tales and who could play the harp and sing with skill. Despite her introspective nature, she showed wisdom in the ways of the desert and could be physically tough. She brought out the best in all those around her. Wary of outsiders, and inordinately proud of her own people, she was unusually skilled as a shapeshifter, and thought things through very carefully before deciding on a particular path. She was, in effect, everything that the elders wanted. Able to shift into the form of an Eagle or a poisonous adder, Narika was an effective fighter, but one who never forgot that there were other ways, perhaps better ones, to safeguard her people. In that, she closely resembled her mother.

Ráma loved her sister fiercely but had made a separate life for herself as a trading agent and spy in the city of Umbar. But the increased tensions between the people of the desert and those of the city, along with the growing ambitions of Wyrma, seemed to be eroding the ground on which she stood. Ráma's inability to control her own form, and the recent news that Thorn intended to wed her sister, had placed her in a more uncomfortable position. All of these matters were simmering at the back of her mind, when a loud "whack" interrupted her sleep and she abruptly awoke. Looking out, she glimpsed one of the strangest sights that she had ever seen.....

***********************************************

The jaguar's eyes widened as she saw the great bird collide with the jagged roof of the cave and fall back to the ground with a thud. No longer tired or confused, Ráma instinctively leapt up and raced over to see what was happening. The single word that escaped from the Eagle's mouth provided the only clue that she would need. This was no simple beast, but one of her own people, most likely a maenwaith who was kin to the Eagles, since few outsiders could master such a form. And such a magnificent creature! The bird had dark brown plummage speckled with grey, stood nearly three feet high, and could boast a wingspan of more than seven feet.

But was she friend or foe? As a child, Ráma would never have raised such a sorry question when dealing with a fellow maenwaith, much less one who could claim some kinship with her own clan. But times had changed. There had always been enemies from the outside; it was the ones within that gave her pause. She could not overlook the possibility that this might be the mysterious stranger who had forced her to flee the Inn.

Ráma warily padded forward on velvet paws, genuinely curious about the stranger but still uncertain whether she could trust her. Still, if the great bird meant to attack, her behavior gave no indication of it. As luck would have it, she had tumbled down at the very back of the cave and could not leave without first confronting Ráma. Boxed into a corner, she stood as silent as a statue, glaring out at the jaguar. Only the gleem in her eyes betrayed the fact that she was very much alive. The Eagle's eyes were a deep brown flecked with gold. In their depths, Ráma could read wisdom, akin to that her mother and sister held, but also a deep sorrow born of some mystery that was beyond the young woman's understanding. The sadness and fear in those eyes finally tipped the balance, compelling Ráma to let down her guard.

"Please, I do not mean to hurt you. But who are you, and what are you doing here?" To her surprise, Ráma had regained control over her body. She quickly shifted back into human form and was rewarded with a slight softening of the hardness in the bird's eyes.

Ráma was never certain of the exact details of the conversation that followed. Either the bird was speaking in a foreign tongue, or did not fully understand what Ráma was saying, or perhaps some combination of both. The young woman could pick out words and phrases here and there, but many of the Eagle's words were simply impossible to decipher. Still, she did learn one or two things. The maenwaith's name was Sorona. She had come from miles away, and did not have a permanent home or clan, something that Ráma found very strange. In the middle of the discussion, Ráma caught hold of the word "North", another term that surprised her. As far as she knew, her people did not live or journey to the far northern lands, so this reference was extremely puzzling. Yet, whatever difficulties they'd had in communicating with each other, Ráma was convinced of two things. Sorona was indeed one of the mainwaith and she was not an evil creature, only one who seemed lost and sad.

As Sorona turned to made her way back to the entrance of the cave, Ráma bent down to offer her goodbyes, "I do not know if you can understand me, but very shortly I will leave these caves to journey to my clan. You are welcome to come along in any guise you choose. The sands are open and inviting; the mountains beckon just south of where my family camps. Many times, I've left Umbar with a heavy heart and found peace and friendship out in the desert. It is up to you, of course. But we would welcome your presence." The Eagle nodded in acknowledgment, slipped out of the cave, and flew off into the sky on her own.

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 04-28-2004 at 12:50 PM.
Child of the 7th Age is offline