fandomania | The Adventure continues...

It was horrible. There were mutilated people lying where they died. Men, gruesomely hacked up. Women, who looked like they had been raped, tortured and then killed. One looked like a young teenager and another looked over 80. And the children, oh the poor, poor children… All dead.

I heard someone running towards me. It was Donal. I ran to him and threw myself into his arms and began to weep.

“What is it, sweetheart? What has upset you?” he asked.

I pointed to the scene on the other side of the rise. Donal stopped looking at me and saw the carnage for the first time. “Oh my Lord!!!” he exclaimed.

“I think that they were all killed by the soldiers who stopped us. I think that if Orlando hadn’t saved us, our dead bodies would have been part of this … this … this …” I couldn’t finish my thought. I began to cry even harder.

Again, I heard the sound of a baby crying. I had to find him, her. I started towards the bodies, but Donal held me back. “Don’t go near there!”

“But I must! Don’t you hear the baby crying? I can’t leave a baby there to die!”

“Stay here. I will try to find it.”

Donal carefully proceeded forward, trying not to stumble over bodies. He did stop from time to time to listen for the baby’s cries. He also stopped at a few less butchered bodies to check for signs of life and found none. Finally, I watched as he looked behind a bush. When he stood up, he had a small, blonde baby in his arms. He stooped down and picked up what looked like a shawl and wrapped it around her. He quickly brought her over to me.

From the looks of her, she was unharmed, but was in a desperate need of a diaper change and a bath. She probably was incredibly hungry. She must have been left alone for many hours. I couldn’t tell if her mother had hidden her to save her life, or if she had crawled under the bush and the murderers somehow missed her.

“What are we going to do about all these poor people?” I asked Donal. “We can’t just leave them here for the scavengers to eat!”

“No, but there are too many for me to bury by myself.”

Orlando came flying into view and quietly landed near us. He quickly assumed human form.

“I SAW THIS EARLIER AND I WENT TO REPORT IT TO THE AUTHORITIES IN RIVERFORD. THEY SHOULD BE HERE IN THE MORNING, DEPENDING ON HOW ORGANIZED THEY ACTUALLY ARE AND HOW QUICKLY THEY RIDE HERE."

Orlando looked at the bundle in my arms.

"I SEE THAT THERE IS A SURVIVOR?”

“Yes, a very hungry and dirty baby. I am going back to the camp because she needs changing and feeding.”

We all agreed that there was nothing more we could do for these poor people. Orlando cast a spell over the area to ward off animals and predators and we walked back to camp.

Our hatchlings:

¤

Our eggs:

Once there, I got the small tub and prepared a bath for her. I stripped off her reeking diaper, gave her a good wiping and then placed her in the warm bath. It was a struggle, because she was also hungry and letting the whole world know about it. Once she was clean, I gave her a fresh diaper and started to breastfeed her. She drained me dry and cried for more. She was old enough to handle a little gruel, I thought, so I put her down so that I could get the ingredients from our supplies. However, she had other ideas and started screaming from the moment I put her done. I picked her up again and she calmed down. I tried putting her down again and again she started shrieking. Picking her up once more, she quieted down.

Donal walked over, “What is the matter?”

“She has sucked me dry and she is still hungry. I was going to make her a little soft gruel, but she won’t let me put her down without screaming. I think that I have become her security and she doesn’t want me to leave her.”

“Let me make the gruel for you. I know how.”

“Thank you.”

Donal went over to the fire and got the gruel started. It was going to take a while as it had to be soft enough for a baby to eat. When everything started boiling, Donal came back over and sat down next to me.

“Seeing her all cleaned up and smelling clean, she really is a beautiful baby,” Donal commented.

“Yes, she is.” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my children and think that they are all gorgeous, but this baby is exceptional.”

“I know that this is going to sound strange, but she looks just like you.”

“HE IS RIGHT. SHE LOOKS MORE LIKE YOU THAN YOUR OWN CHILDREN DO.” Orlando added as he walked over to us.

“What?” I asked, startled. “How can that be? She isn’t my child.”

“LOOK AT YOUR CHILDREN, PATRA. REALLY LOOK AT THEM. CELIANNE HAS YOUR FACIAL FEATURES AND YOUR SLENDER BODY TYPE, BUT SHE IS A DARK BRUNETTE WITH DARK BROWN EYES AND OLIVE-TONED SKIN. THE TWINS AND REUEL ALSO HAVE HER SAME COLORING, BUT SEEM TO HAVE A MORE SOLID BODY TYPE AND HAVE A MORE SQUARISH FACE THAN YOU DO. IN THEIR COLORING, THEY LOOK LIKE EVERY OTHER FREEDONIAN THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN.”

“Yes,” I replied. “They take after their father.”

“BUT YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE GOLDEN BLONDE CURLY HAIR, VERY FAIR, ALMOST WHITE, SKIN, AMETHYST COLORED EYES AND A TALL, SLENDER BODY TYPE. LOOK AT THE BABY. SHE HAS CURLY GOLDEN BLONDE HAIR, VERY FAIR, ALMOST WHITE, SKIN WITH AMETHYST COLORED EYES. SHE IS TOO YOUNG YET TO SHOW WHAT HER BODY TYPE AND FACIAL FEATURES WILL BE LIKE IN ADULTHOOD, BUT SHE STILL DOES RESEMBLE YOU A LOT. “

“Okay… and your point is… ?”

“SHE MUST BE RELATED TO YOU IN SOME WAY.”

“That is preposterous. There are a lot of blondes in this world! Donal is a blond.”

“BUT HOW MANY HAVE AMETHYST COLORED EYES?”

“How should I know? I haven’t met everyone in this world! My mother was a blonde with amethyst eyes and so was my grandmother. I think her mother was too.”

“HOW MANY OF YOUR OTHER RELATIVES WERE ALSO?”

I thought about it for a moment and replied, “No others that I know of.”

“MY POINT IS THAT AMETHYST COLORED EYES ARE EXTREMELY RARE IN HUMANS.”

“Besides,” interjected Donal. “I am more of a towhead, my eyes are green and my skin is somewhat tan. That is because my mother was Alfarian and I look very much like her.”

The conversation ended there.

The baby looked up at me, raised her arms towards me and said, “Mama!” She wiggled, waiving her little arms around and said “Mama!” again.

“I didn’t think she was old enough to speak,” Donal said.

“She is probably somewhere around ten months old. See, she has several teeth already.”

“Mama!”

I sighed. “She is still hungry. Would you check on the gruel, please, Donal?” He got up and returned with a small bowl. “It is done. It just has to cool down some.”

“Mama!”

“Yes, Sweetie,” I said a few minutes later, “have some nice warm gruel…” She opened her mouth as I offered her a small spoonful and ate lustily. In no time at all, the food was gone and she seemed satisfied. I held her up to my shoulder, started patting her back and she quickly burped. By the time I laid her back on my lap, she was fast asleep. She had had a trying day.

“I wonder what her name is,” I mused.

“PATRA, DON’T GO THERE… YOU KNOW IF YOU NAME HER, YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO GIVE HER UP.”

“Well if she is my relative, why should I give her up? I am certainly not going to give her to some strangers, who will abuse her or put her in an orphanage.”

Orlando gave an exasperated sigh, but said nothing.

“What shall we name you, little one? Loysa? That means ‘found one’ in Old Tongue. How about Mariolle? That means ‘bringer of joy’. Or would you like ‘Schafyrra’? ‘Beautiful girl’. Or perhaps I should call you “Zifai”, which means ‘handful’?”

“WHEN DID YOU LEARN TO SPEAK OLD TONGUE? I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WAS ANYONE LEFT WHO SPOKE IT.”

“I’m not sure. I have always spoken it. I think that perhaps my grandmother taught it to me when I was very young. I remember talking with her in Old Tongue.”

“INTERESTING. YOU ARE ALWAYS FULL OF SURPRISES, LITTLE ONE.”