Awakening, Quickening

Deep Thoughts part 1

A sharp, cool ray of sunshine fell across the hearth when Harmony awoke. The fire had been allowed to die down to a few glowing coals, hidden deep in fine white ash; the morning air smelled of wood smoke and farm animals and herbs. A small, thin boy sat by the back door, a wooden bowl in one hand, staring at Harmony with dark, deep-set eyes. Muse and Kyir were nowhere to be seen. Harmony closed her eyes and reached out a mental thread; there they were, outside, with Agatha in the garden. Harmony felt the breeze caress Muse's fine brown hair. She drew back, and sat up, feeling hungry and much encouraged; she felt they had a good chance of staying here, in Grebefal, until she could figure out how to rediscover whatever link or spell had transported them both here.

At least this wasn't Harmony's first time crossing into another world. World-bridges were complex, but also simple; a mere wrongly-cast word of a spell could have brought them here. Harmony knew she had been to other worlds, in her research; she could even remember some things she had seen, vaguely, from those worlds. She couldn't guess what had caused her to forget them, though–or why she had been asleep, or why paralyzed–or why she'd had to stay here, in this world. Why had she been in that state? Why had she been buried in the crypt, when she was not fully dead? How long was she there? And why had she been taken advantage of– she, likely the only one in those graves whose body was both, still alive, and capable of becoming pregnant in such an obscene way? She was angry, now...furiously angry, and hurt, and she had so many questions. She didn't even know if she wanted to know the answers, though.

The innkeeper, Agatha, entered the Inn's hearth-room like a gentle summer thunderstorm, casually carrying 6 large, full baskets of produce and market items at once, as if they weighed nothing at all. The small boy who had been sitting on the step, vanished out the back door when she appeared. Agatha set down her baskets and began busily putting away various bunches of herbs, packets of things, and filling cold-crocks with milk and cream and meat, lowering down the stoneware crocks into a cooling well, and putting away glass jars and trays.

Muse, with Kyir in her arms, followed her in. Muse handed Kyir to Harmony; he snuggled up to her and nuzzled at her, his tiny mouth open, and she gave him his breakfast, grinning at the soft greedy grunts and wriggles he made. She giggled at his tiny fists spasming open and clasping onto her, holding her as tightly as if he'd been glued on. Such a soft, funny, tiny thing he is....he's really so sweet. Harmony felt a little pang of sadness, that this innocent little child had been a part of so much anger and hurt, that he would always have to be a part of how he came to be... But she snatched up that thought, and pushed it away, and focused instead on Kyir's sweet nursing face and peachy-colored, wispy hair. This little one didn't deserve to be the brunt of such feelings. What happened to me wasn't fair--but, it's not his fault. Kyir didn't hurt me, she thought. and....and he's mine. All mine. My son. I won't let anyone hurt you, she thought gently at him. Even if the reason I have you, is because I was hurt by someone.
Muse nodded in agreement from across the room, behind Agatha's back. He's ours now. Whatever happened when he was made, we won't let darkness take him. Or us, either. We all deserve better.