Itinerant #FOWC | 2022-2-15

Welcome back to Lamon Reviews.

I am continuing with the story Sartas Sacrifice. I suggest reading parts one and two before continuing on with todays portion. They are really easy and quick reads to get you caught up with the story so far. You can use the links below.

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Sarta’s Sacrifice

They had been walking for ten minutes. The monotonous landscape made the trip feel like hours. As far as she could see was rock and sand, tumbleweeds and short brown barely green shrubs. When Mánta first moved to this area, she had loved the earth toned hues of the surrounding plains. She had been struck by panoramic views and glorious sunsets. The lack of coniferous trees and vegetation hadn’t bothered her at the time. But now, it was all she noticed.

The large rocks and barren scape annoyed her and she could barely hold it in. Today she wanted the smell of pinetrees after rain and ground her feet in a bed of moss. Growing up, she had taken the evergreens she saw everyday for granted. Now her desert surrounding along with the overbearing heat grated on her nerves. She grudgingly took another sip of water.

Sarta, how long until we find this friend of yours?

Not long, little seedling. We should arrive within the hour.

Short and to the point as always. Mánta wasn’t surprised, just a put off. They had been bonded for two years. Why did their conversations sound so blunt and stilted? Friends didn’t sound like that, did they? Weren’t they at least friends? Maybe Sarta did regret bonding with her. The thoughts and unanswered questions made Mánta feel even worst.

A sudden movement startled her. On the left, only four yards away was a large black and red snake. If not for the movement, she would have walked right passed it. She took a step back, giving more room to the serpant. Looking in her direction, it lingered a moment then moved on. Mánta watched silently as its smooth skin rippled along the gravel until it was behind another large rock. Finally she released a ragged breath, blinked and smiled to herself. At least she hadn’t screamed.

Another thought swirled in Mántas head. The spirits weren’t known to be friendly towards everyone. She remembered stories of the spirits attacking people that got to close their occupied residence. Since she was expecting to be visiting a house of some sort, she worried about this friend Sarta was reluctant to tell her anything about. Would their reception be friendly?

Sarta, how will they know who I am? Will they know I am your vessel?

Sarta thought for a moment considering how much she needed to tell her. She didn’t want Mánta to feel uneasy. She needed her to continue on.

Oh, she will know little seedling. When last I saw her she was a bit—itinerant and never stayed in one place very long. She has no vessel. She prefers to be alone.

Silence filled the air as Mánta walked further on. Small dirtdevils played across her path, picking up sand and redepositing it to her right and left. She adjusted her sunhat and continued straight. She was concentrating on her steps and looking for more snakes when Sarta continued, startling her.

Since she has no vessel only I will see her, but you will feel her presence and you can hear her through our telepathic link. All will be well little seedling.

That did make her feel better. At least she felt more settled than she had before. All citizens were taught about the spirits and were educated on what was collectively known. How to bond. What to expect. The names of all known spirits. The good spirits and the others. But the spirits were usually solitary. On occasion when there were more than one spirit, there was also more than one vessel. So Mánta felt special being in the presence of two spirits. Her being the only one made her feel even more special.

Sarta, what is her name?

It was three minutes before Sarta spoke. Mánta thiught perhaps she didn’t hear her, but that was ridiculous.

Whom?

The spirit we are visiting.

Why does it matter?

It doesn’t I suppose. Mánta felt her heart break. Perhaps, she thought, they were not friends afterall. Had she overstepped by asking? A vessel and a spirit, but not friends. It will be like I’m not really there. I am just curious.

Sarta could feel the slow change in Mántas thoughts the past minutes. The normal whirlwind of questions, curiosity, and panic slowed. A darkness crept in along the edges and an acute sadness settled in. This was new.

The soft music from before slowly began in her head. Mánta understood now, this was how Sarta tried to soothe her when she was upset. Sarta knew she was upset. She felt sad to know Sarta could read her so easily, but she knew nothing about the spirit she wanted to help.

You will be there. A spirit can not leave a vessel without the vessel dying. We will be there together.

Thank you Sarta.

You’re welcome little seedling. I will tell you now. We are here. We are visiting Wendaphun.

Wendaphun… Mántas heart beat hard in her chest. She tried to breathe but her lungs would not work. …the death spirit.

We’re visitin Wendaphun! Sarta why?

Now Mánta understood why Sarta was reluctant to tell her. Only spirits that wanted to be removed from their vessel saught out Wendaphun. A small whimper escaped her mouth as she thought about what it could mean. Why had Sarta brought her here?

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Well I hope you enjoyed todays installment. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Are you enjoying it so far?

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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