From the moment Ya Embaela awoke that fateful day of the procession, she knew she would never see her family again. As the days passed she found herself more and more content in this strangely warm cave hidden in the Hillsindry cliffside. She wasn't captive in the least. Each day she awoke to fresh clothes, albeit scant and oversized, and heaping trays of the finest foods she'd ever eaten. There was always a book or two with marked pages for her to read and toys that appeared rain beaten and faded from the sun. Whoever her mystery caretaker was, he or she cared for her very much. Why then, she wondered, did this person never talk to her?
She often tried to stay awake throughout the night to catch a glimpse of this mystery person but it always seemed impossible to stay awake after the light of the evening faded from the face of the cliff. She maintained a level of contentment learning how to write and better her reading from the books and talking to the massive featherless Ptari birds that roosted at the mouth of the cave in the mornings. She began utilizing her writing skills first on the walls of the cave, later on pieces of parchment that were left for her each morning. This was the moment she began keeping a journal of her days here.
jurnul 1
I am lerning how to rite so I can tell peepul in the fuchur abowt my tim heer. My naam is Embaela and I am almowst 6 winters old. My fathur is the keeng of Lasayereeuh ( I do not now how to spel it yet). I miss my familee very much but somewon is taking very good car of me. I wish I noo hoo this persun was so that I can tel him or hur thank yu.
journul 37
It is getting colder owtside. My writing is getting bettur too. The birds stopped coming to the cav after it got too cold. I miss them. They were fun to talk too. I have lots of covers to keep me warm at nite so I am happy.
As the winter arrived in a fury of blowing snow, Ya Embaela huddled at caves end wishing for a fire. She felt strangely tired today, just walking to the edge of the cave to peer outside, much less climbing the cliffs to explore, wore on her heavily. She lay down for a nap, eyeing the food she'd left untouched this morning. She knew she should be hungry but couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Lying still, she thought, feels nice. Sleeping will feel nice.
When she awoke it was well into night. Her body was a confusion of cold and hot, while sweat drenched the soft furs that she lay, she shivered fiercely. Her lips felt dry. She lifted the carafe of fresh water and drank heavily only to have it come back up again. She lay back down, having faith Zchi would make her well again by morning.
Ya Embaela felt something tugging at her left arm, lifting it to place a soft toy in the crook of her arm. A cool touch smoothed her wet hair from her forehead, matching rythmically with the strange lullaby being sung to her.
Si ere e ya toli
Massa ni e ya toli
Cari Duharett ni soh
Manda toli na
Hillsindry e ya
Mori cari da
Manda toli na
Her vision cleared and she could see her caretaker at long last.
She often tried to stay awake throughout the night to catch a glimpse of this mystery person but it always seemed impossible to stay awake after the light of the evening faded from the face of the cliff. She maintained a level of contentment learning how to write and better her reading from the books and talking to the massive featherless Ptari birds that roosted at the mouth of the cave in the mornings. She began utilizing her writing skills first on the walls of the cave, later on pieces of parchment that were left for her each morning. This was the moment she began keeping a journal of her days here.
jurnul 1
I am lerning how to rite so I can tell peepul in the fuchur abowt my tim heer. My naam is Embaela and I am almowst 6 winters old. My fathur is the keeng of Lasayereeuh ( I do not now how to spel it yet). I miss my familee very much but somewon is taking very good car of me. I wish I noo hoo this persun was so that I can tel him or hur thank yu.
journul 37
It is getting colder owtside. My writing is getting bettur too. The birds stopped coming to the cav after it got too cold. I miss them. They were fun to talk too. I have lots of covers to keep me warm at nite so I am happy.
As the winter arrived in a fury of blowing snow, Ya Embaela huddled at caves end wishing for a fire. She felt strangely tired today, just walking to the edge of the cave to peer outside, much less climbing the cliffs to explore, wore on her heavily. She lay down for a nap, eyeing the food she'd left untouched this morning. She knew she should be hungry but couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Lying still, she thought, feels nice. Sleeping will feel nice.
When she awoke it was well into night. Her body was a confusion of cold and hot, while sweat drenched the soft furs that she lay, she shivered fiercely. Her lips felt dry. She lifted the carafe of fresh water and drank heavily only to have it come back up again. She lay back down, having faith Zchi would make her well again by morning.
Ya Embaela felt something tugging at her left arm, lifting it to place a soft toy in the crook of her arm. A cool touch smoothed her wet hair from her forehead, matching rythmically with the strange lullaby being sung to her.
Si ere e ya toli
Massa ni e ya toli
Cari Duharett ni soh
Manda toli na
Hillsindry e ya
Mori cari da
Manda toli na
Her vision cleared and she could see her caretaker at long last.
