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((Topic : Gratitude))
(( yes. This is several months late but waiting for the server's to come back up inspired me slightly. The writing strays a bit from the topic but Oh Well. ))
Gratitude?
The old troll woman tapped her tusk as she gazed across the island. Her garments implied a high status, and it was obvious that she was well beyond youth. Her body was scarred and her face worn with the lines of aging, her small tusks were scratched and her light blue hair nearly bleached by the years and sun. Sadly, it seemed her eyes may have been failing as well, or perhaps she was being blind to reason…
“Zamira, priestess, what brings you to Yojamba? I thought that you were requested to stay in Zuldazar since your sister-” She recalled them saying, at least before she made her point very clear. Not that it mattered, no, but this girl across the island perked a curiosity and a certain annoyance. Absentmindedly, she glided closer to the opposite shore. Something about the girl was… familiar perhaps? “No,” she hissed beneath her breath. Why would she ever have associated herself with such a feeble runt? She gave a careful eye of the girl, and frowned with distemper.
Why would this Darkspear runt be given an escort to the island? Perhaps too weak to swim… No, a scrawny child shouldn’t be here in the first place.
The old woman shrugged and headed towards the altar of Zanza… At least the Loa still had favor for her. She pondered the girl for a few moments longer, until old memories came in it's place. Her gait slowed, and in her wandering stupor she collided with the young girl.
“Watch where you are headed, whelp. I do not have time for a child’s petty games, now run along,” Zamira looked down at the girl, “be on your way child.”
The girl cursed in orcish for a moment or two, and then looked up at Zamira, “I’m sorry… I was heading to the Shrine. I’ll return later if you prefer.” The young troll brushed the dust off of her robes, and Zamira caught a glint of metal from around her finger and neck as she started to walk towards the canoes at the shore.
No. Those couldn’t be them, could they? The thieving wench!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As the sun began to set, the hag could nearly forget about the younger girl. She could have, if not for the business she would now have take care of. Pity, the heirlooms may even have to be cleaned of a bit of blood afterwards. Thus, she began to follow the tracks left by the young priestess’ mount. It only took a few moments’ time before she realized where she was headed.
First the runt steals from me, now she comes to the Nek'mani springs? I didn’t think anyone would be so foolish.
Zamira stepped lightly towards the silhouette of the younger priestess, a dagger in one hand. She would not bother the Loa for such a petty thief. Before she made her next step, the one that would have revealed her from the jungle brush, a hand gripped her shoulder.
“What are you doing ya fool!” the voice was familiar in her ears, and she grinned.
“Merely taking back what belongs to my family, dear Threnka. You of all people should understand the importance of such an act.”
“Zamira,” the elderly shaman’s voice and grip did not falter, “Who would you think we sent to free the spirits of our priests from the ancient city?”
“I would presume any self-proclaimed heroes who you promised untold riches and items of power from that damnable place.”
“Yet you see the girl in humble robes, a young priestess who has served the Loa quite well in her few years.”
“You sent a child! A thief of my family’s belongings nonetheless?”
“No Zamira. We sent the daughter of your sister and a certain Shadow Hunter you may have known.”
At this, the elderly priestess trembled with rage and dropped her weapon.
“You senile old fool! Mariza had a son, yet it matters not as she died nearly ten years ago! She was weak and was killed by her own pride; a selfish, ungrateful whelp was all my little sister was.”
“Ungrateful?” the old shaman’s voice grew solemn, “you owe more than you will ever know to your sister and niece. Think for once Zamira, how could you not have seen the resemblance between Mariza and little Meo? You have no children, and are well past the years to do so. You should be grateful that the girl is doing her mother’s work so you do not have to. You should be grateful that your bloodline, as stubborn and foolish as it tends to be, is continuing. Zamira, you should be grateful for all that your sister did to earn you favor in the eyes of the priesthood and spirits. You’ve gone mad my old friend, utterly mad.” Threnka chuckled for a moment, “You should also be grateful that little Meoliki did not see you, she’s a bit more powerful than one might think.”
“I’m going back to Zuldazar.” The elderly priestess responded.
Threnka merely shook his head and headed northwest. Perhaps in time you could teach an old dog a new trick. Perhaps in time you could remind them to not speak ill of the deceased. Perhaps in time, you could remind someone of simple gratitude even if they do not wish to be thankful.
Last edited by Karlina (01-22-08 20:28:11)
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