by Cheryl P.
The inhabitants of Domhan are on the move, newly awakened and joining their wisdom and knowledge in the quest for survival. As the Cave Dwellers make their final approach to the newly formed tribe of Juntos, Domhan’s first family makes their way back to the safety of the Garden to await the birth of their second miracle child. Naofa and Eagna prepare to journey to the ocean home of Eagna’s birth, for renewal and rest.
In the tribe where the females of Espera are newly awakened and joined with companions, their Wise Mother sleeps, but her sleep is not peaceful. Visions of confusion, chaos and possibility seep into her dreams…….
In Espera La Palabra awoke refreshed, a smile of new hope spread across her face. Life was being expressed on their world and the future was fast approaching their borders. Her eager anticipation was also tinged with trepidation as she considered these changes. Nothing would ever be the same again, but how could it be, after all? That which never changes is in danger of losing its vitality. The night she had awakened from had been prophetic for Espera’s Wise Mother.
As she lay sleeping, Great Spirit came to La Palabra. The mighty Vulture circled their village and descended quietly upon her dwelling, hovering over her as she lay on her bed of sleep. She was awake but unable to move when it reached out for her, its sharp talons glistening in the moonlight as it gently lifted her from her bed and took her with It, soaring high above her homeland, and finally bringing her to the peak of Domhan’s highest mountain. This is where the Vulture made Its nest. Misty clouds swirled around Palabra; and from where she sat could be seen all of Domhan, glowing with progress and teeming with life. Her heart soared with love and gratitude at the sight which flowed from their beginning into what was to come. The Vulture sat patiently as she took it all in. After a time of grateful meditation, a low hiss from Its throat drew her thoughts and she turned to see It slowly rise and step away from Its nest, revealing its treasures-glowing orbs of life, each with a distinct vibration that La Palabra felt within her soul. Great Spirit had been nesting these eggs! La Palabra marveled at their smooth, creamy surface, and reached a tentative hand to touch the first one; but just as her hand reached the warm shell, a tiny crack started at the pointed end and quickly worked its way to the other end. With a gentle, popping sound it fell open, rent in half. From within its heart a soft blue light shone and there, cradled in that glow, she saw an infant with a radiant smile, golden curls and eyes colored as the sky at dusk. Its face shone up at her from within its broken womb; and the child’s essence was a pure innocence that Palabra was enraptured by as she lifted the infant, wet and new, and cradled it in her arms. She began rocking back and forth in the nest, softly humming to the miracle, with all of Domhan embracing them. As she gazed down at the child’s peaceful face, Palabra’s soul was pierced by a deep sorrow that rose from within its tiny form. Her Mother’s heart sought to console it and she pressed it closer to her bosom.
Then her eyes were drawn to the next egg, watching as it, too, began to crack down the center. When it was broken through and fell open, therein lay another infant child, its lovely face and dark eyes peering at her over the jagged edge, also innocent and new. La Palabra could see the dark head and fair skin of its tiny face, and she leaned over, shifting the first child, ready to lift the new arrival into her free arm. Before she could grasp the new treasure, the last egg began to quake, shaking the nest violently as it burst open. Palabra stared, a cry frozen on her lips, in horrified awe as she peered into the depths, a place endlessly dark and vast in its emptiness. It was painfully cold within and yet she sensed a burning fire at its core. “Where is its gift?” thought Palabra, and leaned over to take a closer look. She gasped, falling back against the edge of the nest, sending bits of grass and feather floating to the deep chasm below. An unspeakable terror gripped her soul as she saw what had been harbored in the last womb, and drew the infant closer to her chest as a gnarled, clawed foot curled over the broken edge of the egg, spreading a grotesque shadow over the nest itself. Then another foot appeared and together they clawed at the edge of the nest, pulling the new life attached to them up and into the light of life. Its head emerged first, a gray and spiny thing, with silvery scales. The small creature turned its head, blinking coal black eyes and sniffed the air, its cavernous nostrils flaring and emitting gray, smoky tendrils that curled around its body and spread across the nest. The smell of it was acrid and burned Palabra’s eyes. She looked directly into the darkness of its eyes but there was a sudden blinding light within them for a brief moment, nearly unrecognizable, and it was sucked instantly back into the dark depths once more. Everything slowed at once as Palabra watched, unable to move, and the horrid creature grabbed the dark haired infant from the safety of its womb even as Palabra’s fingers sought to rescue it. She looked desperately for the great Bird to help, but it had vanished completely. Greedily, the young beast kicked the broken shells onto the hard stone and rose from the nest, up and up, stepping over the side and onto the precarious edge of the cliff. The new child wailed in fear and anguish, its pink flesh sprouting dots of red where the beast had its talons locked around the small, tender body. Palabra feared that the Horror would make a feast of the newborn; but the beast turned and gazed back at the Vulture, who had reappeared, and paused, its breathing becoming labored and slow. A single gray tear slid down over its cracked face.Suddenly it tossed its leathery head back and roared its own birth cry-a cry wrought with sorrowful rage. Clutching the stolen prize to its gray, damp chest, the beast leapt from the mountain top. La Palabra screamed silently as it descended, fearing they both would perish on the rocky hillside below; but as she peered carefully over the ledge, the creature reappeared, appearing so much larger, its massive weight lifted to the heavens by expansive wings which took it higher and farther away from the place where Palabra watched, helplessly. She watched as it descended into the heart of their world, and Palabra saw great flames burst forth from its jaws, sending the the Garden flashing skyward in a vortex of fire and soot, turning all to ashes before her eyes; and the ashes became as dust before the mighty wind. Only then did the Vulture speak to her.
“You must now plan for the future of your world. There is already one whose design could destroy all that was made in Love. Only this same Love can save it now, but its Salvation lies not with the Realm but within your own hands. Humankind will have to love itself enough to survive the arrival of Darkness into its bosom. This Darkness can consume only that power which is given up to it. There is no fear in perfect Love, Palabra. Tell your children…Eternity is with you.”
Blinding light flashed from the Vulture’s eyes, and Palabra threw her hands up to shield them. When she took them down again, the bright morning sun was burning through her open window.
Awaking with new resolution in her soul, La Palabra went straight to her meditation of thankfulness and celebration. This cycle brought them a new way, a new direction and the beginning of their tribes as one village; for from that morning they were to become Juntos. No longer would they hunt, travel and live in seclusion. The Light born with the first child of Domhan would fight to overcome any darkness which sought to encroach upon his world-she was certain of this. This would also be the quest of her own tribe.
Tropical Affair 
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