The children asked her again and again to tell them of the before time. Today, red-haired Jenna, thirteen and serious, asked. "Tell us of the last day, the day of the Fall. Please Mistress Seti, tell us about that day. What did it smell like, taste like, sound like."
Seti's clear gray eyes became the stormy slate of a winter sky.
"Smell? It smelled of smoke and burning things - things that were not
meant to burn. It tasted bitter blood and salt."
sounded like a lullaby - I eyes grow moist when I hear it. It was there
by the roadside." She began softly speaking while sending mind
pictures to the children around her. It was time they knew.
"There by the roadside, a woman lay dead and flies buzzed
around her and a little girl sat by her side and held her hand and
rocked to and fro and sang over and over 'ToRaLuRaLuRa ToRaLu RaLa ,
ToRaLuRaLu, mama don't you cry...' singing her mother to her final sleep
and I bit through my lip and tears mixed with sweat trickled down to
sting the wound, and the acrid billowing smoke made rainless clouds that
obscured the sun."
“It sounded like a lullaby, It
smelled of smoke and burning things - things that were not meant to
burn. It tasted bitter, of blood and salt.
That memory is forever forged into my very soul.
"Who was the child, Mistress? Did she live?" Jenna asked in a voice scarce above a whisper.
"Yes, she lived and thrived and she daily makes me proud. That child
was you. You loved well, and you live well. Your mother would be