Heh, took me long enough to get back to this. I guess you could say this next bit was strangely inspired by the clips of dreams i had about Zchi the living deity i had while i'd been sick this week. Well, onward then.
Ya Embaela had already spent eight days bouncing around in the rikshaw en route to the Cliffs of Hillsindry and Zchi. Eight days were spent trying her hardest to keep composure wearing the same magnanimous, itchy, now slighty odorous dress she had when she left. This was the way the people wanted the Living Doll to be presented to the Living Deity. Having stopped only to void herself in the past 3 days, she was sure her ribs and tailbone were bruised.
She looked up at her mother with no expression. She wanted to ask to sit in her lap to relieve the bumping about but all whispered pleas were met with a scornful glare. It was strange to see her mother like this and it almost brought tears to her eyes the first time her mother denied her through clamped lips. She'd NEVER denied Ya Embaela any affection or kindness before. She had to assume then that this event truly was of the utmost importance.
She looked around and saw the weariness the dragged on the faces of the men and women in the procession. It was a long journey for them. A group of women towards the back of the line walked with their wings folded in front of them to accomodate various bundled food and necessities as well as their babies. All these little ones were the newest children awaiting Zchi's blessing. How cumbersome it must be, she thought, to carry someone this far when she herself rode in a rikshaw. That realization made her feel grateful to the accomodations she was allowed.
Ya Embaela waited for the shuffling of rikshaw bearers to speak. The Procession was one made in near silence and even Ya Embaela herself was not allowed to disrupt that. As soon as the bearers set the poles down she leaned to her mother:
"Masu, can we walk for a little while and let the mothers carrying the babies ride in the rikshaw?"
"Why would you suggest such a thing? It would surely be shameful to see the people's living doll all mud bedraggled from walking." Her mother replied sternly and maybe a little too loudly. It caught the attention of the people around them who took this moment to catch their breaths.
"How shameful is it that we should ride in comfort while preaching to our people about the sacrifice of making such a journey on foot. Can we not too sacrifice for Zchi?" Ya Embaela pleaded, her eyes refusing to leave her mother's face. Suddenly Ya Embaela was caught around the waist by strong arms and lifted out of the rikshaw.
"You are a blessed thoughtful child. Zchi loves you for that. If that is what you truly want, then you shall have it." She was set down playfully. Damu Elessiant, her father, King of Lasaeri had likely waited the entire 8 days to talk to her. If no one else loved her, her father always would. He reached down to muss her hair but was greeted by a sharp rap from Masu Suryi, reminding him that such action would damage the intricate hairstyle in place.
It was an uncharacteristic and untraditional break in the silence that brought joy to most faces and a bit of headshaking from the oldtimers. Damu Elessiant stood on the rikshaw and announced him his thunderous voice that the women carrying children would take turns riding in the Living Dolls rikshaw with Masu Suryi and that Ya Embaela would walk at the head with her brother and king. There was considerable pride in his voice as he spoke, so much that he could scarcely hold back a smile.
The mothers were lined up behind the rikshaw and as each one found a place in line, they gave a short bow and whispered "Zchi thanks you, Living Doll". The mother at the head of the line was an older woman bearing twins. She walked with a considerable limp at at close up, she could see the tracks of tears that ran the course of her lined face.
Ya Embaela started her journey on foot holding her brother's hand. She had missed him so much and just his presence gave her a new feeling of vigor. She uttered a short prayer to Zchi to aid her on her journey and the procession began again.
She looked up at her mother with no expression. She wanted to ask to sit in her lap to relieve the bumping about but all whispered pleas were met with a scornful glare. It was strange to see her mother like this and it almost brought tears to her eyes the first time her mother denied her through clamped lips. She'd NEVER denied Ya Embaela any affection or kindness before. She had to assume then that this event truly was of the utmost importance.
She looked around and saw the weariness the dragged on the faces of the men and women in the procession. It was a long journey for them. A group of women towards the back of the line walked with their wings folded in front of them to accomodate various bundled food and necessities as well as their babies. All these little ones were the newest children awaiting Zchi's blessing. How cumbersome it must be, she thought, to carry someone this far when she herself rode in a rikshaw. That realization made her feel grateful to the accomodations she was allowed.
Ya Embaela waited for the shuffling of rikshaw bearers to speak. The Procession was one made in near silence and even Ya Embaela herself was not allowed to disrupt that. As soon as the bearers set the poles down she leaned to her mother:
"Masu, can we walk for a little while and let the mothers carrying the babies ride in the rikshaw?"
"Why would you suggest such a thing? It would surely be shameful to see the people's living doll all mud bedraggled from walking." Her mother replied sternly and maybe a little too loudly. It caught the attention of the people around them who took this moment to catch their breaths.
"How shameful is it that we should ride in comfort while preaching to our people about the sacrifice of making such a journey on foot. Can we not too sacrifice for Zchi?" Ya Embaela pleaded, her eyes refusing to leave her mother's face. Suddenly Ya Embaela was caught around the waist by strong arms and lifted out of the rikshaw.
"You are a blessed thoughtful child. Zchi loves you for that. If that is what you truly want, then you shall have it." She was set down playfully. Damu Elessiant, her father, King of Lasaeri had likely waited the entire 8 days to talk to her. If no one else loved her, her father always would. He reached down to muss her hair but was greeted by a sharp rap from Masu Suryi, reminding him that such action would damage the intricate hairstyle in place.
It was an uncharacteristic and untraditional break in the silence that brought joy to most faces and a bit of headshaking from the oldtimers. Damu Elessiant stood on the rikshaw and announced him his thunderous voice that the women carrying children would take turns riding in the Living Dolls rikshaw with Masu Suryi and that Ya Embaela would walk at the head with her brother and king. There was considerable pride in his voice as he spoke, so much that he could scarcely hold back a smile.
The mothers were lined up behind the rikshaw and as each one found a place in line, they gave a short bow and whispered "Zchi thanks you, Living Doll". The mother at the head of the line was an older woman bearing twins. She walked with a considerable limp at at close up, she could see the tracks of tears that ran the course of her lined face.
Ya Embaela started her journey on foot holding her brother's hand. She had missed him so much and just his presence gave her a new feeling of vigor. She uttered a short prayer to Zchi to aid her on her journey and the procession began again.
