Blessing Moon

Fourteen: A' Claeri de Natanstrelle

"You're right about that!" the yellow Fairy said in agreement, then clapped her hands together. "Right! Better get these little treasures inside ready to be fed!"

Sevopri began the struggle to her feet and Maria quickly caught her elbow to help heave her up. They called the children by name and watched them run obediently towards the tent.

The five mothers and their Natanstrellean children all sat in a circle surrounding the feast that Vidorea and her two helpers set out. They all helped themselves to fruit, fish and bread. Lenla (the orange Sìthicris once known as Pula) fed her youngest, holding him snugly in her arms, his tiny mahogany hand squeezed the blanket that was wrapped around him. Vidorea watched the orange-haired Sìthicris longingly, but once she caught herself staring she shook her head and reached for a green apple that sat in a basket in front of her. She raised it to her lips and just before she could take a bite the sound of the door to the main tent flapped open.

"Oh, Sev! Finally!" Sevopri beamed up at her husband.

"Sorry we were gone so long today, time ran away from us," Severton apologised as he sat down. He gently stroked his strong hand along his wife's yellow curls and gave her a tender kiss before turning towards his two sons, who made their way to climb onto his lap.

"The cloudy-eyed Sìthicris in the mauve tent would not listen to reason," Vidurram added as he took his place beside Vidorea. He hugged his arm around his wife's shoulders and reached for some bread.

"Wasn't Father there?"

"The Chief was indeed there!" Lennox, said from his place beside the orange Sìthicris. He stroked his baby gently with his finger, its colour matching the child's cheek perfectly. "He is the one that is encouraging the gazers to seek more answers in the smoke!" he added, then turned towards the food.

"Gazers!" Lenla scoffed. "That's a nice title they've given themselves! I think Fiosolim would be a better word for them!"

"Fiosolim! That is very good Lenla!" Sevopri giggled.

"That's a word I have not heard before," Maria declared, not wanting to miss out on a joke.

"Fiosolim translates to - one who knows," Mach, Maria's blue-haired husband explained.

"But why is that funny?"

"It's not a compliment. The word is a slur that we use for those who don't know when to be quiet."

"Wait, one moment! You've called me that word before!" Cùrette piped up, turning towards her husband. The look she gave him made all the men shake with silent laughter.

"I'm sorry, my love, but you cannot deny it was called for at times," Cùram said with a twinkle in his glowing emerald eyes.

"I don't know what you mean!" Cùrette said defensively. Her incredulous expression caused the rest of the party to burst into loud laughter.

Cùram kissed his wife's brow, making her relax instantly. With a playful smile, she hit Cùram's shoulder and returned his kiss.

"All joking aside though," Vidorea started once the laughter began to die down. "Have the Fiosolim managed to see anything useful from the smoke?"

"Oh dear, has that name stuck now?" Sevopri said, winking at the orange fairy sitting opposite her in the circle.

"Oh, I do hope so!" Lenla said with pride.