Opinion #FOWC | 2022-2-8

Welcome back to Lamon Reviews. Today we continue with last weeks story Sartas Sacrifice. I haven’t quite flushed out the direction this story will go, but I’m loving the short story writing I’m getting done.

I have a lot of work to do before each of my weekly works starts to be complete stories that can stand alone, but hopefully as you read along you will notice improvements. Once again wish me luck as I attempt to continue the story from last week.

⚜Sartas Sacrifice⚜

“Are they all gone little seedling?”

Sartas voice was quiet but commanding. Manta could feel a tingle through her body as each word was spoken. She looked up towards the towering oak tree near the wooden bench she sat on. Bobo at her feet, tail beating rhythmically as he slept. Manta started looking at the oak reflexively when speaking with Sarta. She thought, since Sarta called her little seedling so often, it only right that she be a large tree. It also gave her an image to conjure when she spoke and they were not on the small acrage.

Manta was 38 years old, hardly a seedling. She figured that if she was being called a seedling, perhaps the one calling her so was much older than her. If not for the lack of physical form, she felt Sarta would definately have been her grandmothers’ age. Although she often wondered about Sartas age, she knew, disembodied voice or not, you never ask a womans age.

Manta never got the feeling of malice in Sartas naming her this, only a feeling of timeless age. She knew this spirit was very old. But there were so many spirits, she couldn’t begin to know which one was using her as a vessel.

Yes Sarta, everyone has left. Petriv is watching one of his shows, and I am here. Sitting. Waiting.”

A light breeze drifts by carrying the scent of lavender. There are lavendar bushes on every property out here. Petriv said someone told him they grow like weeds. Manta liked the calming smell, subtle and sweet. Just last week she drifted to sleep in the hammock behind the RV they share.

“Well little seedling, wait no longer. Let us go visit a friend.”

“A friend, out here? “ Manta tried to quiet her mind. It raced with questions about this friend. “…Sarta?”

No answer, only silence. In Mantas opinion, Sarta is the most evenly tempered spirit she had ever known. Not that she met many. But she read about the spirits, and Sarta is nothing like the ones she read about. She only knew the lore about the spirits and the vessels they chose. She was extremely surprised when she was chosen.

She didn’t excel in any catagory of spiritual compatibility. Intellegence, athleticism, courage, and beauty. While that last one was often debated, it was never officially removed by scholars on the subject. Every vessel she saw on TV was the very image of beauty. Even the male vessels had an unearthly beauty she simply did not possess. She fit in none of the other catagories as a possible match for a spirit either. She considered that maybe Sarta had been mistaken in choosing her, and now she was stuck with her poor choice.

Manta waited to hear Sartas malodic voice again. Instead, a soft melody began to flow across her consciousness and soothe her. It was soft and uniquely… smooth, smooth was the only word that came to Mantas mind as she relaxed.

Manta considered for a moment while listening to the music, and her mind cleared, if they were going somewhere to meet a friend of Sartas, she was going to need some things. Manta crossed the yard and climbed the steps to the RV.

“Petriv, I’m heading out.” She said as she walked in. His head raised in recognition, but he didn’t respond. He was entrenched in his favorite show and headphones were loud enough for her to hear the characters. Grabbing her boots she rubbed his shoulder to get his attention.

“Petriv, I’m heading out.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m heading…” It dawns on her Sarta never gave her a direction. Manta had no clue where they were going. Were they walking? Did they need to drive? Would they be back tonight? So many questions bombarded her mind at once, she could no longer hear the soft music.


It was more an image than a spoken word. Then more images: Shoes, water, sunset, home. Such a jumble of items and ideas, it surprised Manta with the clarity that accompanied them all. Sarta rarely spoke to her in images anymore. She stopped that months ago. Manta didn’t know why, but she didn’t like this. Perhaps Sarta was angry with her. Had she done something to anger her? No. She was sure of this.

“I’m taking a walk, just need some water and I will be back by sunset. I’m going explore the area.”

Petriv smiled at her as he had suggested the same thing 2 weeks ago. Manta was very reluctant to leave their acrage for many reasons. He seemed so happy she was exploring their new home. Manta looked down at him and returned his smile. At this angle his face was so round he almost looked like a cherub. Even the barely grown gotee looked strangly angelic. Manta kissed his head and he turned back to his show.

Walking out the RV, Bobo ran up to her and made circles begging to go out with her. Not knowing this friend she was meeting, she thought it not a good idea to bring him.

“Next time Bobo.” She promised and walked towards the road. As she turned left and headed east she could hear the yelps coming from her yard. Neither dog was happy with not going. She steeled herself for what may happen while she was out.

She wished Sarta had given her more information. Even if a spirit couldn’t die, their very mortal vessel definately could. A little louder than before the beautiful music that had calmed her before drifted back to her consciousness and she relaxed as they headed out.

Well, I hope you liked this section. I got good feedback and recommendations about the first part. Thank you @starwonder and @donttakeawaytrees. Thank you for your help. If you want to read it you can find it here. I agree that I need to increase the pace and get things moving.

Let me know what you think in the comments below.

And As Always..

Go forth, dear readers, support your favorite indie authors and encourage reading and literacy.

K. LaMon
Lamon Reviews

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