WIP: The Last Story

[jeriendhal]

Didn't get as much done this week do to an increased volume of work at my job.

 “Now, we come to the truly important part of the tale, for despite winning her freedom, Maria faced a harsh truth.  She was a product of alchemy, not natural born.  There was no other in the universe quite like her.  She was a hybrid of many different races, and like another sort hybrid, a mule, she could not breed.  When she died all that she was would die with her and eventually be forgotten, for there would be no one to remember her.”

      He paused, drew a pained breath, and then continued, “So she made a deal.”

      “She became an acolyte of the god of Death, for it was a priest of Death that had been the first person to show kindness to her, and see the soul of one yearning to be free, not just a Beast-Kin created to serve her master.  And so it was to Death that she prayed, begging for a boon.  In return for shortening her own lifespan by half, she was given a most precious gift, the ability to create life within herself.  She would be the mother to a whole new race, the Maria-Born.”

      “But for that she needed a sire for her children,” Alisa said, smiling.

      “That she did, and because she was determined to grant her children all the life and more that she had denied herself, she was determined to find an elf to bed.  A difficult thing for a Beast-Kin, even one as comely as Maria, for her kind were considered little more than animals.  In frustration, she made a choice that would seem to modern eyes unfortunate, but at the time was her only option.”

      “She bought you.”

      “She bought me,” Tez agreed.  “For I’d had a run of misfortune and found myself enslaved, then sold to Maria for twenty-three hundred silver pieces.  My new owner confused me greatly, for she had not the heart to own another, having been owned so long herself.  But she was warring between her shame over this and her urgent desire to bear children before her own body aged to the point where she could not.

      Fortunately, I had been a slave more times than I could count, and I knew there could be far harsher owners in the world than your mother.  So eventually we arrived at an accommodation.  I agreed to remain with her, as her slave, until the day she died.  Given her shortened lifespan that was no great burden to me.  And so it was that I taught her the manner that male and females lay together, which was a great and happy revelation to her.”

      “And both of you had many children,” Alisa said.

      Tez nodded quietly.  “Yes we did.  There was your youngest sister, Meribeth.  Then your brother, Davin.  Then there were the twins, Joseph and Jon, both of which were lost too soon, however great their bravery.  There was Swan, whom we do not speak of, and finally you, Alisa, her last child, whom she bore at great cost and nearly at the expense of her own life.  Six in all, a fine brood by any mother’s standard.   

      We had many adventures together.  We traveled down to the capitol and up to the cold northern wastes.  We spoke with my fellow elves and prevented a war with Men.  We even traveled to the south continent, which back then was no small feat.  She allowed me to teach her of the world and in turn she taught many things to me, which I had forgotten for too long.  But knowledge was not her true wealth.  Though wise investment insured that Maria had all she needed as far as material goods, and my tutelage gave her whatever information she desired, it was her family that made her rich beyond measure, and in her own way immortal.

      “Was she happy, Father?”

      “Very happy.”

      “And were you happy?”

      “Yes, I was.  All the more so because I had forgotten what happiness was.  Or rather, I had forgotten that happiness meant lowering one’s defenses, allowing one to trust.  I had not trusted anyone like Maria for a very, very long time.”

      He drew in another breath, steeling himself for the next part of the story.  “Then it came to pass that the grey grew thick in Maria’s hair, and her hands, which had painted such beauty, grew weak and undsteady. 

  tbc

Comments

[tamhavik.livejournal.com]

"There was your youngest sister, Meribeth." I think you mean the oldest sister?

Nice continuation!

[jeriendhal.livejournal.com]

Oops. I'll fix that. Nice catch.