Laura Brewer's Blog, page 12

Sister in Spirit

Sister in Spirit

By Laura Brewer

 

“But, Mother, why can’t you teach me? Why do I have to go to the Vales to be a healer?” Kirrlea asked, trying with all her young might to subdue the trickle of fear trying to stir in her soul. She couldn’t let that surface in her thoughts. The Sisha feared nothing!

Sylvnari rumbled a feline laugh, “Cubling, where do you think I learned? You have learned well the way of the hunter, I have set you on the proper path to discovering how to sense what makes some life forms food or medicine and how to trace those properties, but I could not bring you to your full potential. Besides, it is apparent your strengths will be different than mine.”

Wanting to slink away and hide, she just dropped her gaze, staring at the lighter patch of fur on the end of her tail. Gentle claws smoothed the soft fur behind her ears as her mother’s mental voice whispered. “There will be other Sisha cubs there learning with you, you will make many friends.” 

“And humans.” Kirrlea didn’t know why she said that. Isolated their Clan dens might be, but she knew the humans that shared their world were friends, allies even. The Vales of Sorranon were the ancient home of the Singers. The very idea of living in a place dedicated to their Power made her feel small indeed.

“Kirrlea!” The claw was suddenly less gentle on her neck in rebuke. “I see I should have taken you into the city more often.”

 

The air was so full of intoxicating scents, Kirrlea wanted to run in the meadow and roll. She had never smelt such air as this! Her ears were full of tiny chirping and rustling that spoke things to be chased, whether they were prey or not. Her mother had already called her back several times since they entered this long valley. There was Power here, but it didn’t threaten. The energies had all her fur trying to stand up at once. It throbbed with Life, seemed to sing in her blood in welcome. She had not known such a place could be.

A new scent, human overlaid with a crisp, clean smell she didn’t know, made Kirrlea look up. Walking to meet them was a tall woman in silver robes, one of the Singers who called the Vales home. At her side was a Sisha.

“Sylvnari! Be welcome in the Light. It is good to see you again.”  The Singer’s thoughts echoed joy at seeing an old friend that lapped out to embrace everything somehow. Then she shifted to look Kirrlea in the eye. “We are pleased you’ll be joining us, Kirrlea ne Clan Atregg. I am Jalina ne Doraith and this is my Sister, Nangra. We will be your teachers, along with others.”

Kirrlea froze in surprise. She would be taught by one of the most respected healers of she had ever heard of? Nangra-Ta, she must never forget to use the honorific, was regarding her kindly, but underneath was a deep strength of will she knew it would be well not to test.

Kirrlea sensed a brush of communication between Singer and Sisha that she couldn’t have read if she dared. Her fur was sticking out again. She was certain they were discussing her.

Nangra’s eyes gleamed as her thoughts held a trace of amusement that Kirrlea wasn’t sure she liked. “Come with me, I’ll show you the dormitory and you can meet the other students.”

“Yes, Nangra-Ta,” Kirrlea said and followed the elder healer into the buildings nestled at the foot of the mountain.

She tried not to stare, but it was hard. She had never seen such an immense structure. The corridors seemed to go on for miles to her young eyes. Nangra led her to a curtained doorway and held it aside. Kirrlea saw other Sisha and human children in the room.

“This is where you will be staying. Take time to get acquainted with your classmates.  There will be three more arriving today. Tomorrow, we start to work.”

The healer left and Kirrlea had to confront the faces in the room. The open, friendly expressions reassured her. One of the humans, a young Singer probably, held out her hand in greeting.

“I am Selarial, Singer-in-training,” she said as Kirrlea sniffed her fingers lightly, cataloging her scent.

“I am Kirrlea, to be a healer,” she spoke to them all.

The others introduced themselves. The only other Singer-in-training so far was Taminea.  The other Sisha cubs were Laytanna, Thallnea, Boshrea, and to her surprise, one male, Pordeshee. She had thought only females trained here. She fixed all their scents in memory, a more important identification to Sisha than appearance or voice. In fact, both of the Singers had the same long dark hair and the same pale, furless faces. They were differences, but it would take a while to sort them. At the moment, humans looked the same to her. Scent was another matter. Selarial smelled of spice and something that reminded her of the metallic scent of snow, while Taminea smelled of green things. The Sisha were aural notes in symphony. Kirrlea could tell she was going to have to learn the subtleties of humans as well as she knew the subtleties of her own species.

The dorm occupied her attention then, there were sleeping places for human and Sisha. Kirrlea thought the Sisha had a most comfortable looking arrangement of pillows that was almost nest-like. She chose one of the free spaces, deciding it was almost as nice as home. There were also long tables with benches for working.

Kirrlea’s stomach rumbled, audibly. Her classmates reacted with sympathetic amusement. They were hungry too. Kirrlea reluctantly thought of human food, hoping there would at least be real meat.

“Lunch should be soon. I wonder if we will have any lessons today?” Taminea said.

“Nangra-Ta told me tomorrow.  She said there are three more to come today.”

“Good, maybe we can explore a little.” Kirrlea felt a sense of not-get-lost from Selarial that she agreed with completely.

 

“Wake Kirrlea, we have a free day today and it’s glorious out!”

Kirrlea looked up at Selarial’s smiling face.  Much as she would have liked to rest, now that she was awake, she could smell the sun-on-meadow scents carried on the morning breeze – and food. One thing about the Singer Hall, they were never skimpy on fresh meat. That had surprised her since humans ate a large variety of things a Sisha would never call food.

“I’m coming, Selarial,” she said, stretching and looking around, “Is everyone gone already?”

“On a free day? Of course. I just, well, I didn’t think you’d want to miss breakfast.”

There were four Singer children and six Sisha cubs in this dorm. They were all getting used to sharing space. They had been kept so busy this first week that they had little time for anything other than study, sleep and meals. They were careful not to intrude on one another’s space. They already held each other at a certain level of awareness to avoid unwelcome intrusion, physical or psychic. It was something humans tended to learn earlier than Sisha, since they were more often in the company of Other-than-Clan.

She padded down the hall beside Selarial, their pace quick. They caught up to the others as they were entering the dining hall and quietly took their place on the far side. They were grouped by class. Theirs, the newest, was at the back. The more advanced you were, the closer you were to the Singer tables. Their timing was good, it was not long at all before one of the Singers rose to give the day’s announcements and a brief invocation of thanks.

Talk drifted around the table, mostly centered on ideas for exploring the Vales. Kirrlea wanted to explore the meadow in particular. The scents had been calling to her all week, but there had been no time to explore. Even the outdoor classes, especially the outdoor classes, had taken all their attention.

With great care, Kirrlea parted the grass to find the source of the spicy scent that had been tantalizing her since she arrived here. Ah, the flower was tiny, barely the height of a claw tip. She let her mind sink to it. She already knew it wasn’t food, but the smell – she focused closer – it invigorated, renewed. It was stronger when bruised and that bruising seemed to help the plant mature its seed. Encouraged, she abandoned herself to temptation to roll in the grass, bathing her fur in the scent.

She felt a query from Laytanna and shared her impressions with her friend. Soon all the Sisha were rolling with delight in the scented grass. Their Singer classmates looked on with amazement. Then Laytanna shared what they were sensing with the Singers.

That caught their interest. Kirrlea noticed how dulled Selarial’s reaction to the scent was.  No, that was not right. Selarial felt the renewing effects. She just missed the fullness of the scent itself, as though there was a barrier to that sense. Nangra had told her it was so, but she hadn’t understood. Kirrlea realized two things. First, the human sense of smell was actually less acute, not that they didn’t pay attention. Second, and more surprising, was the awareness of Selarial’s thoughts as if she was in the Singer’s mind and not her own. She pulled back, shaken. She had not linked with any human for other than communication. How-

“Mother said sometimes the barriers blur between minds once we work together. I will try to keep you out if you wish, but here it may be hard to do. I did not mean to disturb you, Kirrlea.” Selarial’s voice whispered gently on the surface of her thoughts with overtones of regret.

The children looked at each other with solemn eyes. Something about bonds niggled at the back of Kirrlea’s mind, but she pushed the thought away.

“I was just surprised. I didn’t realize our senses were really so different. That is good knowledge to have, I think,” she replied. That would require more thought too.

Kirrlea looked around to see Taminea had gone up to a bush of alinias and was studying the blooms at their peak, covered in translucent white flowers. Laytanna and Pordeshee were watching as if waiting. The scene aroused her curiosity and Kirrlea welcomed the distraction. Taminea began to sing a series of notes to entreat? Entice? Kirrlea wasn’t sure which, but whatever the young Singer intended, the bush seemed to ripple before her eyes and Kirrlea felt a distinct sense of the bush, not just resisting, but rejecting the Power she sent. True, that wasn’t much. At their age, they were all limited in strength, but still – a bush rejected the touch of Power?

Laytanna sent to the group, “You can’t cast an illusion that affects its life without consent, Sister. Maybe because of it growing here, where so much Power is, I’m not sure, but feel deeply of the life of its blooms and the way they function. If they look like gems, it won’t be able to fruit.”

Kirrlea followed the other Sisha’s reading of the plant and an astonishingly complex picture opened in her mind. They both pulled back quickly, unable to sort the impressions from the momentary dual image. It was enough to teach Kirrlea that shared impressions were going to be common. Her young mind wasn’t ready to grasp the whys of it, but she did know that two together saw more than either did alone and the idea felt important.

“Did you feel what I did, Kirrlea?” Laytanna asked, echoing Kirrlea’s surprise.

In an instant, they came to the mutual conclusion that the impression should be shared with the others. They tentatively invited a group surface link, something they had not done in class yet, to share the idea. Instead of simply sharing a single impression, now there were ten impressions blended together and Kirrlea was stunned, they all were, at the way the impression multiplied in the group. Though they carefully kept to surface thoughts, the fact of the increasing complexity of the idea as each individual provided a slightly different perspective caused an almost painful expansion of thought as individuals and as a group. It was too much to hold at once, they dropped the link to communication alone.

Kirrlea found she was panting as if she’d been running. Selarial dropped down beside her, breathing just as hard. The Sisha felt her hand reach out and caress the fur behind her ears as the Singer sent gratitude for the shared knowledge with overtones of friendship.  Kirrlea replied with a soft rumbling of contentment. The Singer’s touch was a comfort and Kirrlea responded with a quick dab of caressing tongue, as she would to another Sisha. Selarial did not reject that display of affection as Kirrlea suspected she might.

“Well done, students! You have learned your first lesson.”  Nangra and Taminea stood at the edge of the wood, watching them. Kirrlea felt warm approval flow out to encompass all of them. She thought it had been Nangra who spoke, but it was hard to tell.

“We can teach you much of facts,” Taminea walked towards them, “but the real learning is in how to work together to share your strengths and multiply perceptions. All most everything you learn here will be built on that.”

The Singer’s thought shifted away from the group of students. Kirrlea and Selarial felt the edge of communication between their elders. Her fur didn’t stand up quite so much this time, even though she was mostly sure they were talking about her again. At least this time, it wasn’t just her.

“No, we are together.” Selarial’s thought first carried a sense of the whole group, but there were undercurrents of a deeper meaning. Kirrlea drew breath sharply as she sensed, even more than Selarial did, that a tie between the two of them had formed. Thin and insubstantial as yet, but instinct told the feline it would grow stronger, tying their lives, their minds, their very souls together.

“Sisters in Spirit,” and Kirrlea was never sure which one of them had spoken.

Books Are Old Friends

Have you ever had books (and authors) that you’ve read until they were worn and had to be replaced? Some really are old friends you visit with time after time. I seem to have more old friends each year, but there are some I visit regularly. The oldest and dearest would have to be Andre Norton’s Witch World series. I discovered her in 7th grade and it started a life long love of the rich and varied worlds she created. Any time I get a little disenchanted with our world, hers is waiting, to visit a page or two, or a book, or several.

Some friends you visit when you are down. There are a couple authors that just simply make me smile. My son recently had me start reading the Belgarion books, by David Eddings – again. (He may be in high school, but he still thinks I am a Book on Tape.) I am convinced the main reason we love these books is Mr. Eddings’ humor. It covers everything from biting sarcasm to outright silliness. Silliness is good. It keeps you from taking yourself too seriously.

Who are your old friends? I am always looking for new friends that might become old ones. In the mean time, I think I’ll make supper and go visit a friend.