“You really
can't go back,” Lonna said, abruptly, “Can you?”
Bry'e sighed.
“Even if I could, I would not want to.” She raised her eyes to
Lonna now, who recoiled from her just enough to reveal her deeper
feelings; she still didn't trust this strange, tribal creature with
feathers the color of blood, who was obviously stronger and faster,
and perhaps even more intelligent. “I frighten you,” Bry'e said
openly.
“I just don't understand – what you are. Where you come from...”
“I just don't understand – what you are. Where you come from...”
Bry'e
understood what Lonna meant, and picked up a leaf from the forest
floor. It was ovate shaped, simple and unremarkable.
“The common
leaf,” she began, “tells in its shape and vein an old story, a
story so old no one knows who first said the words. Note the shape,”
she said, “the paths the leaf takes away from the stem. The stem is
origin. It represents the span of time when all living energies arose
from a single source, a nameless power which has never revealed
itself, but which flows through time, through the stem, and into
everything the leaf becomes.”
Now Bry'e traced the right edge of the leaf with her index finger. “This edge which breaks away from the stem on its own path, is Nature, Mirico. This edge,” she said, tracing the opposite, “is Iridia, Man. The stem down the middle,” she said, her gray eyes twinkling, “is me.
Now Bry'e traced the right edge of the leaf with her index finger. “This edge which breaks away from the stem on its own path, is Nature, Mirico. This edge,” she said, tracing the opposite, “is Iridia, Man. The stem down the middle,” she said, her gray eyes twinkling, “is me.
The veins,
bridges between one world and another, are my arms. With one hand I
reach into Nature, and with the other I reach out to Man. Right now,
the world is here,” she said, pointing to the section of the leaf
where the edges were furthest apart. “Man has gone far from the
source – in fact, he is farther away from Nature than he has ever
been before. So here at the widest span of the leaf, the bridges
between are longer and harder to cross. Here again, the leaf tells a
story, but not about the past... It is the story of the future.”
Lonna sat
closer, intrigued, and in some way it seemed the explanation Bry'e
had given had made some barriers fall away within her.
“Just as all
living things have a common origin, we also have a common destiny. So
here,” she said, holding the leaf up for Lonna to see, “at the
tip, is where once again Nature, you and I come back together. But to
do this we must make the distance between Man and Nature smaller and
smaller, until once again we
are all the same. It is my responsibility to reach out to Man, and to
bring him back to the source from which He comes.”
“But why had
I never heard of you before?” Lonna asked, in a hushed whisper.
“Many human
tribes throughout your deep time made pictures in stone or painted
creatures with the bodies of man and the faces of animals. The
Ambassadors have always existed, as guides and friends, as ways back
to the old world. But some people have chosen not to see us – some
have turned away from us because we were seen as heathen gods, or as
dangerous creatures.”
“Your tribe didn't seem like it was out to help people,” Lonna said darkly.
“Your tribe didn't seem like it was out to help people,” Lonna said darkly.
Bry'e sighed.
“This is why I left. Some of the Ambassadors, Amnamar and others,
gave up on human beings, and became lost in themselves – we were
given great power, possessing many natural gifts of awareness, and
being able to speak with nature itself – we are above many of the
creatures, having the intellect, language and structure of higher
beings.”
“Not to
mention an opposable thumb,” Lonna said dryly.
“Yes,”
Bry'e chuckled. Her voice trailed back to sadness again. “Some
Ambassadors turned against humans and sought them out to eliminate
them, or to cast them out of their lands. Amnamar was one of these,
and it was this way which turned me from my kind long ago. There is
something in me, something which responds to the voices of Earth,
which are always speaking. The further I go away from the
Amnamarandhi, the louder the voices of earth become. In a way, my
clan made me become much like man – I was so far away from what I
am that I lost my source, and now I am crossing a long bridge to go
back to it.”
Lonna processed
what Bry'e had said for a moment. "If you were limited to the
tribe you came from, how do you know all this about 'the leaf' and
the past and the future, 'Ambassadors' and - all that?"
Bry'e absorbed the
question, reading in Lonna's slight sarcasm that she believed little
of what Bry'e had explained. The Amnamaran chose her words carefully.
"For most of my life I went away into the deep jungles around my
home; no one else in the tribe did such thing alone. It was there
that I first met the Dharak, an old ascetic of the wilds. A true
Ambassador, having learned both the ways of Earth and Man, and
protecting and educating both. He taught me the language we are
speaking now, and told me many things important to an Ambassador. He
spent many beads in Iridia, and in the palms of his mind he held much
knowledge about the lands of your people. His hand's grasp on Earth
Speaking was of equal if not greater, power."
"Was he - from your tribe?"
"Was he - from your tribe?"
"No - he and his
forefeathers are similar, but they remained so close to the purposes
and energies of earth that it is believed they are part bird and part
tree. Going back further than any of the elders can remember, our
tribe has looked to his small clan for shamanic guidance - he
received visions and what is the word...?" She tapped her beak
intently, squinting.
"Dreams?" Lonna
offered.
"Hm, no -" Bry'e
concentrated. "Revolutions?"
"Revalations,"
Lonna corrected.
"That is the word.
The revelations that came to him and his people served Amnamar in
many ways, and allowed us to remain protected - though this, again,
was part of what turned my hearts against my own people. It was our
duty to reach out and to risk much. But instead we turned inward, and
our only concern became ourselves. It is now my thinking that for
many beads the Dharak knew what I was, but he would not make me see
it. I believe he only hoped I would find it, and that once I did, I
would be brave enough to grasp what I am with both hands,” she
said, now making a bridge in the air with her outstreched arms as
though she held both edges of the little ovate leaf.
“So is that why you
helped me -” Lonna sniped in a whisper, “- because you had to?”
Bry'e blinked, her shoulders caving in a little. She seemed to fade in spirit at the question for the briefest of seconds, and then Lonna saw a resurgence of light kindle in her.
Bry'e blinked, her shoulders caving in a little. She seemed to fade in spirit at the question for the briefest of seconds, and then Lonna saw a resurgence of light kindle in her.
“No.” Bry'e answered
in a gentle voice. “I helped you because I wanted to.”
* * *
“When we were about to
jump, you...” Lonna faltered. “You called me something.”
Bry'e nodded.
“Tsukenna.”
“Tsu,” it means 'good', doesn't it?” Lonna asked, grimacing a little. She was uncomfortable with the words that seemed to just rise up in her, foreign but familiar at the same time.
Bry'e nodded. “But in this case it is something more. 'Kenna' is grass. Putting the 'Tsu' before it, it becomes 'happy', or 'laughing'.”
“You called me 'Laughing Grass' when we were about to jump 300 feet out of a flying tree?”
“Tsu,” it means 'good', doesn't it?” Lonna asked, grimacing a little. She was uncomfortable with the words that seemed to just rise up in her, foreign but familiar at the same time.
Bry'e nodded. “But in this case it is something more. 'Kenna' is grass. Putting the 'Tsu' before it, it becomes 'happy', or 'laughing'.”
“You called me 'Laughing Grass' when we were about to jump 300 feet out of a flying tree?”
Bry'e chuckled softly,
rubbing a soothing paste onto the insect bites covering Lonna's
ankles.
“I have visions... While
I sleep,” Bry'e admitted hesitantly, keeping her eyes down on her
work. She massaged Lonna's calves and feet gently. “Sometimes I
think I see things that will happen. Sometimes I see things I fear,
and other times I see things that already have been.” Bry'e kept
her eyes low. “The night my tribe captured you my visions saw you,”
she went on, “standing in a field of waving grasses, under a sky
like this one -” Bry'e said, gesturing to the gathering twilight
above them. “A boy and girl ran to you, and all together you
danced. You may have cried rather than laughing, but the grass knew
your tears to be joy, and it laughed.”
Now Bry'e looked up at
Lonna, and huge tears ran fresh down the woman's cheeks.
“Did I see something
true?”
Lonna nodded, her chin quivering.
Lonna nodded, her chin quivering.
“When we were in the
tree,” Bry'e explained, “I took from my thoughts the place where
I had seen you happiest, and tried to give it back to you.”
Lonna sobbed softly, but
smiled through it. “I think you're the strangest friend I've ever
had,” Lonna admitted, and Bry'e took Lonna's hand.
“Better?” Bry'e asked,
having evenly spread the tincture of mossy paste on Lonna's legs.
“Well I look like the
Incredible Hulk and I smell like a sewer,” she sighed, and
shrugged. “But I'm not itchy.”
Bry'e turned, and for a
moment they both stared out into the eveing light. “Do you have
children, Bry'e?”
The bird woman went down on her haunches, elbows on her knees. When she didn't answer, and instead looked at the ground between her feet, Lonna sensed she had struck a nerve. “I'm sorry,” she offered. “I shouldn't have asked -”
The bird woman went down on her haunches, elbows on her knees. When she didn't answer, and instead looked at the ground between her feet, Lonna sensed she had struck a nerve. “I'm sorry,” she offered. “I shouldn't have asked -”
Bry'e sighed, “Shesht,”
she said calmly, as if to say it was nothing. “The ways of my tribe
said that I must... accomplish some things before I bore the tomorrow
of the clan. One of those things, for example, was to take your life.
My tribe expected me to do this.”
Lonna fingered the ends of
her hair, where Bry'e's ritual blade had cut through it. For an
instant the wild, tribal fury of the Amnamaran clan flashed back
through her memory, and she shuddered.
“Why did you not kill
me?” Lonna asked, in a whisper.
Bry'e looked out into the
far distance, exhaled, and simply said, “To kill another is to die
yourself.”
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