The day’s beginning had not been promising. Rainclouds raised thunderous frowns upon this cursed land that Nadira had come to. Rain, rain and more vile rain. Would the warming sun never shine again? A glance at the sky told her that the time would not be soon for such needed relief. A gust of wind blew across her, cold and damp. She shivered at its uncaring touch.
Yet, she could not help but think that the very earth itself wept for her dead master, wept as she herself wept nightly for his loss. Her sorrow was barely contained behind the floodgates of her willpower. The sorrow was as deep as the passion she had shared with her master. At any moment it could break through to overwhelm her fully. It was all too much to think on a moment longer, so she bolstered herself and pushed the sorrow into the shadowed recesses of her mind. Dragging Shani behind her, she pressed her way forward through the swirling crowds of Camulodunum where she had come to mend the broken life she was suddenly heir to.
“Shani!”, she called out in her rich alto voice, “Move swiftly now, girl! We wouldn’t want to show up looking like ragged street cats. That would not do for a first impression. Especially in this business. First class, first rate! Thus is our reputation and honor upheld.”
She thought to herself about what she was walking into. The unknowns. The uncertainties. The strangeness. It was not a situation she could avoid. Her master, lying upon his bed, moving relentlessly into death, had instructed her to come here; she must make her new abode with this foreign Mistress. Beloved! The lorn cry echoed silent within. Must I? A slight shake of her head to again hold back that flood. Not now. Not now.
Ahead, Nadira could see the building she had been traveling to for weeks. It did not look to be so grand, she thought sourly, though I should not discount it so easily. Once within, perhaps, it will prove its merits so highly boasted of by her master; there would be comfort and safety, and even maybe friendship.
“There, Shani. See it close before us? That is our new home, the gods above willing. Keep to your place and obey.”
The women made their way to the door, both slightly out of breath from their long walk.
Nadira ran her slim hands down the front of her gown to straighten it, lightly smoothed back her dark hair, painted a smile upon her lips and knocked on the door three times.
In her mind she heard her master’s weakened voice, “Go to Morga, pet. Do not fear. Be brave and strong, my lovely one. I will wait for you in another time, another place.”
From within, footsteps approached the door.
~from a roleplay, long ago, in West of Eden’s G-Spot at AncientWorlds…..loads of fun to write this character!
Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur. I invite you to browse and share your comments on my works!