Page 55 of Rhaz's Redemption
He threw the leaf into the flames and we watched as his wish turned to ash and rose to the heavens for the goddess to hear.
I picked up a leaf star and declared, “to moving forward one step at a time.”
Rhaz grinned as I threw my leaf into the fire.
“May the goddess hear our wishes tonight,” he said with a pleased smile on his face.
“I hope so too.” My cheeks heated as his gaze lingered on me and his pleased smile turned into a flirtatious one. That was another thing I’d have to get used to. He wasn’t the grumpy sirret hunter that I’d known for the five, almost six, months I’d been here. He seemed happier now, more relaxed. Even here stuck in this ravine, he seemed pleased because he was stuck here with me.
Chapter 24
Rhaz
Things were moving forward now. Over the next few days Beatrice’s timidness around me started to fade away. I would smile at her and she would smile back. She still chewed on her bottom lip when she was feeling shy or nervous, but she no longer looked at the ground when speaking with me.
This afternoon, she sat at the base of one of the fruit trees and looked beyond beautiful as the sun trickled through her dark curly hair. She was writing on one of the dried raka leaves, and I was curious what she was writing about.
“May I sit?” I gestured to the ground next to her and Beatrice looked up at me with a smile and moved over so I could also fit under the base of the tree.
I looked over her shoulder and peered down at the strange symbols she drew onto the leaves. “What are you writing?”
“Oh,” Beatrice looked up at me then back down at the raka leaf. “I’ve been writing down the stories the elders have been telling me about your history.”
“Why? As the next generation grows up we will tell them the same stories our elders told us.”
“Yes, you all have an oral tradition of passing down your stories verbally, but my people have a tradition of writing things down so things do get forgotten.”
“I don’t think our stories will ever get forgotten,” I replied. My people have told the same stories over and over for many generations. We valued the sharing of knowledge in this way.
“There are people from my homeworld who thought the same thing,” she replied. “But then their elders and teachers were killed in large numbers, and their history was forgotten. All we know of certain people groups is what the neighboring people groups wrote down.”
“I see,” I looked down at her strange symbols again and tried to make sense of them, but failed.
“What story are you writing now?”
“I just finished the story about the goddess and the turtle,” Beatrice replied.
“That’s a good one,” I nodded. “There’s much wisdom in that story.”
“Yeah, I agree. I think it’s one of my favorites.” Beatrice looked over at me and asked. “Which story is your favorite?”
I thought for a long moment before responding, but eventually settled on one. “My favorite is from the old world. My mother used to tell me this story before bed when I struggled to fall asleep.”
My chest tightened as I thought about my mother who had passed to the city of souls. I didn’t talk about her very often. The memory of her loss was often too painful to bear even after all these years, but I liked the idea of telling Beatrice about her. I’d kept the memory of her buried within me for too long. It was time I let her memory live on somewhere besides my own heart.
I must have been silent for a long while because suddenly I felt Beatrice’s hand on mine. “Do you miss her?”
“Yes,” I nodded, and I was tempted to confess that I see my mother every time I die, but it didn’t feel right to share that just yet.
“Will you tell me about her someday?” her voice was both gentle and comforting.
“I’d like that. I think she would have liked you,” I added.
“I think my family would have liked you too,” she smiled.
Beatrice rested her hand on mine for another long moment then lifted it to her writing stone and waited patiently for me to begin.
“This story is from the old world,” I began again. “There was a great hunter named Talakra who was challenged to a fight with his neighbor Saludro. But when it came time to fight, Talakra laid down his spear and offered his hand to Saludro as a sign of peace. But Saludro didn’t want peace he wanted a fight, so he raised his spear and slayed Talakra in front of the entire village.
