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The Sun Seeker- Pt 4

The Song

By Anna KringlePublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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It began to rain lightly as evening settled, which Sehkma said was a good omen. Hash put out the banner announcing the telling hour, and Jes helped clear the courtyard and set cushions and tables about; close enough to enjoy the telling, but away from the damp drizzle trying to fight through the leaves above.

The big Telling Pot was placed over a real, old-fashioned fire in the middle, under the twisted trees. Sehkma threw a herbs and a lamb bone into the broth, and just as the smell of the spices broke open in the steam, the people started to file in. Many brought vegetables, but some brought bread and cheeses. Rashid sat at the pot, smiling thanks for the offerings and tossing them in the pot while Sehkma sang out greetings to their community.

Telling at an enclave was different than on the road; The people were invited to eat the soup together, and so the Tellings didn't truly start until it was ready to serve. Sekma wandered through the crowd with her cymbals and tambourine. Hashem sat beside Rashid, playing a mandolin. Jesphyr was stationed at the door, handing out bowls to the few neighbors that entered. A few homeless people drifted in, looking wary and guilty. Jes gave them each a bowl and sent them to Sekma, who wrapped them with love and scoldings, and recruited them into the Telling by giving them little ways to contribute.

The soup was bubbling, and the people were each given their portion, and Sehkma began a gentle, engaging beat. Hash picked up the song with his strings, and Rashid pulled out a ukelele as the old song grew and the people began to sway.

Jesphyr felt the beat thrum in her blood, felt the memory grow and fill her brain, the way all the Tellings did. When Sehkma waved her into the circle to join the dance she went easily, circling and tapping, moving in time with her friends and the music as everything fused to the moments.

Sehkma's beautiful, low voice smoothed the spaces between the beat, and Jes harmonized gently, caught up in the dance.

Cross the never-ending black,

oceans wide of emptiness,

Ringing gently, lightly, soft,

The voices of Solem.

Great sailships, a thousand strong,

The children heard that ancient song.

Follow, follow, children come,

The children of Solem.

The people hummed and sang along while the Tellers, the Lorekeepers, lead them in remembering their origin. Sehkma sailed the memories across the stars, guided by those same stars from the home we knew to the home we needed around mighty Solem, and Jes danced along, expressing the joy of Great Solem, to no longer be lonely in the black. She twisted and flowed the joy of the Children, finding a warm and mighty star to revolve around.

The rain clouds had skittered away, along with the daylight, and the stars glittered between the branches, twinkling down on their assembly. The gentle rays could hardly compete with the lanterns and the fire, but Jes felt them anyway, and she could swear they sang. She twirled and danced, smiling gently to herself, humming a soft harmony to the sounds around her.

Help me!

Jesphyr stumbled and opened her eyes, surprised by the voice. The song had come to an end, and the people were all clapping. Sehkma was hugging her tightly, and everyone looked happy and at peace. Not in need of help. But she'd heard it.

“Beautiful!” Sehkma kissed Jes on the cheek, cradling her face in her hands. “See? You were meant for the singing. Who could hear songs the way you can?”

Jes gave her a distracted answer, searching.

But the people were milling toward the door, offering farewells and smiles, and the voice, the presence, was gone.

Sci Fi
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