For my post to Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, hop over here:

https://dweezepenny.blogspot.com/2022/11/when-youre-blessed-with-lemons-cffc.html

Hello and my deepest apologies for being disconnected for so long now. Life is often messy, full, and maddening. My garden has grown exponentially and requires a lot of maintenance, but this is my meditation and peace. Mynhubs is faring well on his medication, and we enjoy every moment we share. Life is quite loud beyond my garden, and my compassionate soul struggles for reason in the chaos. Thus, the creation of my dream world continues. This book has been cathartic as it will give the devoted humans of Domhan the moment of reckoning they have long awaited… but not without suffering. This is one chapter that I thought you might enjoy. The feminine struggle figures prominently in my tale, for I truly believe it is the driving force within Creation. I hope you are all well, and I am slowly getting back into blogging mode. It is my belief that our collective will for the good of All is the most powerful prayer we can offer. Be well, dear friends. I have missed you.

The Roaring Whisper/Book Three of Forever Never

While You Were Sleeping

You wept, then slept 

in comfort kept~

left behind, and in kind,

your wee jewels.

I have neither slept nor wept

as I wait to be swept

away… what fools!

I will not go alone…

True to her word, Naofa continued her vigil for the rescuers and eased her sense of isolation through caring for the youngest of their family.  The changes in Scath and Lasair amazed her each day, but her heart ached for the son who had been her only solace in the dark days following the Devastation.  She tried to ignore the tug of regret for what their father was missing and that she hadn’t gone with Laoch and Agean.  That boy was growing into his wisdom, but his impetuous streak remained and needed taming.

“Be still, impatient woman,” she chided herself, “and stop thinking it would ever be a good idea to bring these helpless children into such a precarious situation.”  She tucked the blanket around Lasair who had just finished her turn at the breast.  Naofa sighed softly and wound a tiny dark curl around her finger to push it away from her daughter’s cheek.  She brushed her thumb over the dark skin, thrilled to see new signs of her Warrior father emerging with each moment.  Her trusting smile and strong chin, the way her eyes twinkled with mischief when her mother made her laugh.  Scath’s sudden whimper startled her from these thoughts, and Naofa went to his cradle where he was curled up on his side with his fists by his face.  Naofa gently stroked the wrinkle from his forehead, amazed that he was surpassing his twin in size after being so near death before his first breath.  

“What are you dreaming, my sweet?  Let Na chase it away for you,” she pressed her lips to his ear, then kissed his scrunched nose.  He opened a sleepy eye and whimpered again until he saw the giver of all good things in his world.  Naofa patted his bottom and hummed until the frown faded.  When a bubble of trapped air escaped against her hand, she stifled her giggle so as not to wake him.  Once she’d tucked his blanket in, Naofa went to the hearth and put some water on to boil. 

There would be clothing to wash and bodies to be cleaned, but first she wanted a hot cup of tea.  After the fire was stoked, she put the pot on and started toward the cupboard for a cup.  She was only halfway there when a loud crack split the air and the floorboards trembled, shifting beneath her feet.  With nothing close enough to cling to, Naofa squatted and pressed her hands to the wood, glancing back over her shoulder at the cradles where her children slept.  The world beyond the windows went dark. 

“Children of the Realm, protect us!” she cried.  When the sky grumbled angrily, Naofa was transported from the cozy cottage in the village of Juntos back to the meadow beyond her best friend’s home.  The sky above that peaceful haven had trembled with such a fury before it broke in two and vomited the fiery beast who took so much from all of them.  Suddenly, she felt a weight on her chest and could hardly breathe.  The room was dim and hazy, and the walls seemed to be closing in on them.  Her mind was a contradiction as her panicked breaths shrank to small gasps.  Her Mother’s heart screamed that she should pick up her infants and shelter in the cottage, but the Sorceress within urged her to confront whatever might be moving beyond those protective walls.  Her mouth was forming a scream when the thunder stopped, the ground ceased quaking, and golden sunlight filtered through the windows once more.  Her mind insisted it wise to check on the twins then go outside for a look, but all she could manage in those first moments was to wrap her arms around her knees and rock on her heels.  Naofa learned early on how to be her own comforter, and she’d managed without friends or family for too long.  When her breathing came easy, she got to her feet and brushed off her skirt.  

“Oh look at you,” she muttered at the bare breast hanging out of her open shirt.  After Laoch and the others left, she often didn’t bother with the tedium of covering herself.  After all, the feedings sometimes seemed to climb over one another, making it a futile ritual.   As soon as she’d fastened the last button, there was an impatient knock on her door, and she hurried to open it before her ravenous wee ones were disturbed.  She peered around it to find an out of breath Palabra standing on the porch, and Naofa gasped involuntarily.  The old woman seemed uncharacteristically distraught, so she pulled her inside and closed the door.  The Seer looked around the room expectantly, and Naofa pressed a finger to her lips, nodding at the table.  Palabra sat down, trying to compose herself.  

“I was just about to have tea,” Naofa offered.  “Would you like some?”  Her unexpected visitor said nothing but nodded, then ran her hand over the wiry stray hairs climbing around her head.  Although it seemed comical, Naofa didn’t laugh.  Instead she took down a jar of manzanilla flowers and adding some to the tea pot.  Once she’d ladled in enough hot water to fill, she brought it to the table, then pulled down cups, spoons, and a small pot of honey before joining the Wisdom Mother.  

“Did you come because of the thunderous quaking?”  It was an honest question in light of what had just happened, but Palabra looked at Naofa, perplexed, then clasped her hands in front of her and took a deep breath.  “What is it Mother?”  Naofa was growing more anxious with every passing moment.  The ground had just shifted under her feet, and now the one who held everything together in their village looked as though she hadn’t even noticed it.  “Here, let me pour your tea.”  Naofa filled the cups and slid one across the table, along with the honey.  The Seer silently took it in her trembling hands and raised it to her lips for a long gulp.  Naofa was screaming inside, but she followed Palabra’s lead and took a sip from her own cup.

“That’s bitter,” she complained and reached for the honey.  “I might have put in too many blooms.”  The clink of Naofa’s spoon against the cup seemed to snap the old mother from her dazed state.

“Or they are old,” Palabra muttered.  “We must get you some fresh ones for a gentler flavor.  I’ll have Saol…” she caught herself and looked up with watery eyes.  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”  She reached her open hand across the table and Naofa placed her own in it.  “I know no other way to tell you what I have seen.  Look at me, Sorceress, so that I may swim in the ocean.”  Naofa’s arm stiffened and she glanced across the room at the cradles, but Palabra insisted. “They are sleeping soundly and nothing can harm them here.  We will not allow it, do you hear me?”  Naofa nodded slowly and pushed her cup aside, offering her other hand to the strange woman who could often see what lay ahead on the path.  Palabra grasped it and leaned forward, pulling their Maravilla into the dark windows of her intuition.  As soon as their eyes locked, the Mother of Juntos saw the rolling waves and dove in with complete trust.  

Naofa gasped softly as the shadowy mists parted to reveal what the other hadn’t been able to say.  She was captive within that place of knowing and unable  to move, even when the angry sky wept tears of glowing embers that singed the ground below.  A towering dark mountain rose above the horizon, framed by a tumult of streaking light and rolling black clouds.  Her heart thumped wildly in anticipation, fearing what she remembered all too well from that other nightmare.  But this vision was different.  The mountain of fury was not harboring a flying beast, for the summit itself seemed to breathe.  It swelled and groaned until its peak glowed crimson like an eye glaring into her soul!  She held her breath when it blinked out for an endless moment, then exploded against the night with glimmering embers of orange and red.  Then the eye bled streams of fiery liquid that cascaded over the mountain like rivers of blood.  

“No, no, let me go!” she panicked, but Palabra held on as the vision unfolded.  And Naofa wanted to see more, she needed to know where her family and friends were and if this was to be their fate.  The swirling mists closed in again, obliterating the mountain and its flaming vomit.  When they receded, Naofa understood what had tied the old woman’s tongue.  There was only chaos as far as she could see across the landscape.  What appeared to be a village was engulfed in flames, while shrieks of terror echoed above it.  “What is happening there, Mother?  Is this happening now?”  Palabra found her voice, but the tone in it was neither comforting nor hopeful.  

“I don’t know, Maravilla.  Someone… something, wanted me to see this, but I intuit no outcome.  Normally I see a fork in the path of possibility, but this is more like a nightmare of someone else’s creation.  Look closely and see what you must before I release you.”  Naofa took a deep breath and returned to the vision, willing herself close enough to see what was happening at its heart.  At first it was too shadowy to make out details, but the cottages, paths and trees seemed hauntingly familiar.  When Ogat appeared out of nowhere with sword in hand, the Sorceress watched, horrified as the Hon Bar leader cut down a man who ran at her with his own weapon.  

“Look out!” she cried, seeing another attacker behind their old friend, but she never saw what happened to Ogat.  The screech of another drew her closer to the cottages where she witnessed the worst kind of assault she’d ever imagined.  Some of the Hon Bar warriors were fending off their attackers, but many more were at the mercy of brutal men with lust in their eyes.  Their fury was unbridled as they shoved the women to the ground and tore at their clothing, forcing their bodies against them.  Any who fought back were punched and kicked until they lay unconscious.  “No! It’s not possible!” she cried. Tears streamed down her face and she could hardly breathe.  When Naofa yanked her hands free, Palabra released her.   She stared at the old woman, incredulous and unable to breathe as the grisly scene replayed in her mind.  She needed answers, but Palabra’s face was a blur.  Her lips moved as though she were speaking, but the voice slithering through Naofa’s head was not that of the Wisdom Mother.  It’s condescending tone gripped her soul and rendered her speechless.

“Not a deception, after all, foolish Witch… what could have been will find you yet.  I only wanted what you both owed me, but you denied me again.  I gave you the boy and asked nothing in return, and you thanked me by keeping my daughter from me.  Oh yes, I know you freed her back to the Realm.”

Naofa tried to scream, to fight the intrusive will of the wretched god, but she was helpless. 

“There is nothing you do that is unknown by me.  Every move, every word, every desire… I will miss that most of all.  The Hunter’s child means nothing to me now, and I care not what happens to her.  But she did serve a purpose.  Every worthy warrior on this pampered world has followed the trail to find her, leaving their own villages woefully unprotected.  I will have what I want, and it seems I must take it from you.  It will be a farewell gift to one who would have given you supreme power at my side.”

Naofa struggled to free herself as raw fury rose in her chest.  Her insides burned so hot that she couldn’t feel her fingernails digging into the table.  But when Palabra grasped her wrist and slapped her face, she let go of the breath she’d been holding and panted.  

“Breathe slowly, Maravilla, slowly.  I know you don’t want to do this here, with your children slumbering in their cradles.”  

Naofa tugged to free her hand and looked down, but it was not her hand that the old woman had pressed to the table.  It was the white haired paw of her Tiger, its claws flexed near the ends of deep gouges in the dark wood.  There were hairs sprouting on her arms, and the world through her eyes was colorless.  She looked at the cradles across the room and fought the power surging through her veins.  As her insides cooled, the changes to her body disappeared, and Laoch’s companion spoke at last.  

“It’s all been just another game, Palabra,” she whispered.  “He knows As’me isn’t with Saol now, but he used her… he is using us to draw the warriors away from their villages.  But why destroy so many on this world?  What could he gain by such terror over innocent women?” 

Palabra sat down wearily and pushed her cup aside.  “You are giving reason to a being who is completely unreasonable.  Have you not understood this before now, dear Naofa?”  The old woman looked down at her hands and rubbed them thoughtfully, thinking how she now felt the weight of her lengthy time within the dream.  When their eyes met again, there was no vision or mystery in the dark windows, only immense sorrow.  “Ar’tine knows his greatest weapon is striking fear into the hearts of Domhan’s children.  Fear, you understand, is the true enemy of love.  It cannot thrive where love reigns, and love will always be tested by its presence.  

Naofa struggled to deny such fear while keeping the details fresh.  “Mother, you once said that your visions are not bound to happen, that they are just… like ripples in the flow of the dream’s river, things which may or may not come to pass.  Isn’t this so?”  

“Yes, they have always come as a way to prepare, or avoid, maybe even accept if that is necessary.  But, I tell you, this was something else.  I was seeing our fearless friends on the trail, and I felt M’na’s power rising as they moved.  Then I was with the Hunter and his men where they camped.”  She twisted her hands nervously, uncertain how to tell the Sorceress what she’d seen.  So she just told her the truth as it was.  “I saw Saol with her captors, three of them, and the Jinetes are getting close.”

“Well, that is wonderful to hear, Moth…” but Palabra put up her hand.  

“White they were sleeping, one of the men went to the blanket where she lay.  He put his hand over her mouth and lay on top of my dear girl and…” her voice broke.  

“Please, dear mother nooo..” Naofa moaned, but Palabra squeezed her fingers.

“I do not sense that she suffered at his hands.  The mists clouded my view, as if something was trying to keep the truth from me.  When they parted again, there were only two men and one had a bloodied knife.”  She put her free hand over Naofa’s and forced her to look up.  “Our Healer is with Saol now.  I saw the violet glow of her love throughout the meadow.  And what’s more… I felt the same defiant resolve in Eolas’ daughter that she knew when As’me shared her soul space.”  She saw the look of sheer horror in Naofa’s eyes and patted her hand.  “No, no, the wandering soul has not returned, of that I am certain.”  

“I need to do something, Palabra.  I’ve felt so lost since they all left, and now to find out it was only trickery so he could easily bring destruction upon the innocent.”  The uncertainty in their Maravilla’s eyes nearly broke the old woman’s spirit, but she shored herself up to encourage the Protector who stayed behind.  

“There is nothing to do, Naofa.  We must be patient and continue our vigil.  If we cannot stand beside them to face whatever lies in wait, then we can send our power.”  She let go of Naofa’s hands and picked up her cup.  “And we have no idea if anything we have seen is real or merely the illusion he wants us to accept.”  She sighed and took a sip of tea.  Naofa wanted to scream, although she wasn’t sure if it was out of horror or sheer frustration.  Perhaps it was both.  

“Is there any way to find out?” she implored.  “Should we send some of the warriors to Hon Bar?  They could check on things there and then visit others within those lands.”  She twisted her own fingers nervously.  “I mean, that is where Argen said such attacks were happening even when they weren’t.  Could he have some grudge against Ogat and her tribe?”  Palabra said nothing as she stared into her cup, and it was unnerving for Laoch’s companion.  “Palabra?  Please tell me something that we can place our hope in!”  The old one slowly raised her head and smiled gently.  

“I am afraid, dear Sorceress, that in this moment you must calm your impatient nature and wait for the answers you seek.  There are already too many of our village family scattered and risking their lives.  Raven should be back here soon, and we can send the creature to scout for signs of danger among the other villages.”  She pushed her cup aside.  “Do you believe, Naofa, that the unfolding of our lives serves to teach us compassion for one another?”  Naofa sat back and tilted her head to one side, wondering about this philosophical question in the face of possible devastation.  But she considered Palabra’s words.  Of course she believed this, but how did it apply in this situation?  

“Are you suggesting I consider how such pain and brutality was born?  Surely you don’t mean that we haven’t truly suffered by the hand of Mac’s son, or that this sort of brutal attack would benefit anyone.”  Naofa stopped short of telling the old one she was wrong, instead running her finger around the rim of her cup as she stared at the stray bits of flower that drifted over the bottom.  

“Dear Maravilla, you burden yourself with saving lives, and imagine this can only be done by waging a battle or wielding a sword.  Do you believe in the power of summoning that the goddesses entrusted to you?  Just look at the force flowing in your veins, ready to emerge with the mere nudge of your fury.  I see no reason for you to carry a sword, although it has proven most powerful in your hands.  Do you imagine that vilest of souls does not know your true worth?  He envies the man who stands beside you, who protects his family and can touch you without you being destroyed.”  Naofa’s eyes widened and she raised her hand to protest, but Palabra went on.  “Laoch’s first companion is meek and slow to anger, but she is also very powerful, and once she accepts this knowledge, my own ability to see will be forgotten.  But in this moment she is stretching her prowess as the intuitive huntress she was born to be.  While she is no Sorceress, she can fight for what matters most to her because she has grown to value your strength.  She has learned about fierce devotion from watching her new friend build a life with our Warrior and their children.”

Naofa was at once humbled to imagine anyone learning from her own questionable actions.  She doubted herself at every turn and felt she’d made many errors since being summoned from the sea to join the Circle of Light for the protection of their world. 

“That is the nature of this dream,” Palabra answered her unspoken thoughts.  “Ella is now learning what you feel and what you face every time you shine a light into the cold heart of chaos.”  She looked into the gray seas that churned with question and forced Naofa to accept.  “That you must remain here instead of forging ahead with your Warrior will show you what our Ella has lived through more than once.  She was with child the first time she fought with the Protectors, and she lost that precious gift.  When she couldn’t follow your impetuous children after they escaped Juntos to fight alongside their kinsmen, she once more bore the burden of waiting.”  Palabra stopped when she saw the waters turn murky.  

“So I must stop fighting myself and accept that I cannot do anything but wait.  Gods, I feel I have been waiting endlessly and yet…” she looked over at the cradles then back at the Seer.  “I have always known the freedom of choice until now.”  She sighed.  “And part of that freedom included Ella caring for Agean in my absence.  I’m failing miserably aren’t I?”  

“Stop that!  Self pity is not acceptance.  It is merely a companion to fear.  You could not fail if you tried, dear woman.  As long as I have breath I will work to show my children their own brilliance.”  Fresh tears brimmed in Naofa’s eyes as that acceptance reached for her heart.  

“I do understand, Mother,” she whispered.  “I have tried to put aside my guilt for what Ella suffered back then, for the sense of loss and betrayal she must have felt when we… “ she waved her hand, knowing Palabra would chastise her again.  “Let me finish.  I put these painful feelings aside to move forward, and we have.  Ella and I share a bond as mothers that I would never have imagined possible.  But buried things that still have breath will rise again.”  She smiled wistfully.  “It is time for me to end the guilt that keeps me from true understanding.  I must know my sister’s suffering in order to put my regret to rest.”

“And you must see it for the gift that it is.  Compassion is not a burden, and you are one of the most compassionate stubborn women I know.  You will be ready when the time is right to return to the Sorceress you are for the sake of those you love.  For now, be the gentle huntress who must remain, knowing those who champion you are just as fierce and powerful.”  Scath let out a whimper and they left the table to check on the twins.  By the time Naofa reached him, her son had found his finger and sucked it contentedly.  Lasair had her fist near her sweet lips, ready should she need the comfort.  Naofa brushed her son’s cheek, and Palabra bent to kiss them both on the head.

“Then you have much to keep you busy in the days ahead.  This can be a time for you to enjoy them, to make a connection that bonds the three of you.”  She nodded and gave Naofa a knowing look.  “So much can change in the beat of one’s heart.”  When she felt the tremble in the Sorceress’ shoulders, Palabra squeezed them gently.  “It does no good to doubt yourself, now or ever, Maravilla, for no one else does.”

“Thank you, and I will try not to disappoint.”  Naofa caught the sharp look in the old one’s eye. “I mean I will be as precise as my experience will allow.”  Palabra shook her head and moved towards the door, then turned back and smiled.

“You are a wonder, Sea Witch.”  Naofa bristled at the name, but Palabra pushed back.  “Accept it and own it, for all our sakes.”