Ripples - Children of Y'Dahnndrya: Book 1

Chapter 3

"Surprise meetings, even if unpleasant at first, may result in the strongest friendships." ~ Seth Yi'in

The Kya'al River ran south and filled Lake Gloush. The ford was in sight when Yetsye looked up to see Tsifi'ra and Mi'ta floating high above her. Her stomach grumbled eliciting a chuckle from Yuvahl. She couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or laugh that he heard it all the way at the back.

"Alright," he announced. "Here is as good a place as any. Let's rest and eat."

The mana grazed on sweet grass and refreshed themselves with cool water. The siblings seemed lost in their own thoughts. Yetsye expected to encounter another pilgrim or two on this path, certainly by now. A heavy silence broken only by a stray chirp or swish of leaves hung around them draining Yetsye's earlier excitement.

"I'm going over there," Yetsye said and pointed to a sunny patch of ground lit by a single ray of sunshine. It was far enough away from the others for her to concentrate, but close enough to call if there was a problem. She lay back on the grass and began her calming ritual. She knew it wouldn't be as easy as it was in her little glade back home. But so many worries swam around in her mind it was necessary to try. Opening her senses lowered the barrier she kept in place between her and other humans. She could be herself with her world. Y'Dahnndrya always accepted every inhabitant. Such peace and belonging so moved her, a small tear escaped her right eye.

She felt the low rumble in the deepest part of her core before she could hear it with her ears. Her eyes snapped open as she sat up. "Time to move! And quick!" she warned as she jumped up from her garden bed. So much for relaxation!

Almost immediately chippets burst out from the nearby treetops clanging their discordant alarm. Not far behind them, a flurry of edjigs burst out of the underbrush, a dizzying jumble of reds, greens, and blues bumbling as fast as possible on their twelve short legs. They were nearly silent but their wings flicked in fear. Muffits, flut'ras, wild mana, beasts of all kinds flowed forth from the forest like a waterfall.

"Quickly! They won't stop for us." Yetsye's authority rang out. "This is deep fear! I've never felt anything like it from our animals before." She drew her mana behind a stand of trees, rearranged her pack, and quickly hopped on. It didn't take much effort to urge her friend to follow the fleeing animals. Ya'el and Yuvahl followed close behind her with the extra mana.

Yuvahl yelled, "It's a good thing you were quick to read the signs!"

Yetsye waved her reply but kept her attention on the surrounding area. If she'd been any slower, their mana would've scattered with the others of their kind. Mana are very fast, almost tireless, and difficult to track, too, for they walk softly and leave very little trace when on the move. Their supplies would've been lost, certainly. Yetsye kept scanning. What was out there?

In moments, the threat burst out of the trees, the largest bush'ka Yetsye had ever seen. Standing tall and broad, her blue-green crown rose 20 arm-lengths into the air. Her barrel-shaped body heaved in distress and her large eyes rolled around in their sockets, frantically seeking escape. They were shy creatures. Yetsye once waited all of one dawning to catch just a glimpse of one in the woods closer to home.

Yet another unprecedented event crashed upon their ears as the bush'ka howled her rage to all with ears to hear. "Pain! Paaaaiiinnn! Pa-in!" she trumpeted from her silvery blue muzzle. Yetsye understood and observed carefully as her mana raced away. The bush'ka shook, twitched and bucked. Her tree trunk legs pounded off to the left into the forest, desperate for relief.

Yetsye urged her mount to turn around. An animal in pain always found a friend in her. It took three attempts but finally the mana turned and reluctantly followed the bush'ka. Bush'kas might be bulky and built like boulders, but their favorite food was the nectar of delicate tseta flowers. Yetsye remembered passing some of the blooms a short distance from their last stop. If she could find a way to attract the bush'ka to the flowers, the animal would calm long enough for her to find the problem and perhaps lend a hand. Belatedly, she hoped her siblings noticed where she'd gone. There was no time to check.