Do-dee-do
“Rah...” Sen placed the paper in the pouch on his traveling belt. His throat was tight and his voice caught in his throat when he spoke. “I promise that I will return.”
---..---
And the void grows.
---..---
“Stop her!”
“Thief!”
The cries followed Kita, but while a couple of people gave her curious glances, no one in the market bothered to stop her. Though the men who chased her were in peak physical condition, they were quite simply unable to keep up with her speed and the agile way she darted through the crowded streets.
A particularly thick gaggle of people provided her with the opportunity she needed. Crouching low, she darted into a dark alley and vaulted a heap of trash, pressing low to the ground and covering her mouth with her hands to stifle the sound of her ragged breathing and the vapor it produced in the cold air. There she lay for what seemed like eons, one hand covering her mouth and the other alternating between rubbing her nose to warm it and pinching it shut against the horrid stench of the trash heap. When she eventually raised her head to peek above the trash, there was no vigilant militia force waiting to arrest her, only ordinary people trying to get to their destination while remaining forcibly ignorant of their surroundings.
Kita backtracked through the crowd until she neared her drop point. She feigned stumbling to the ground, though no one cared enough to notice, let alone try and help her to her feet. It was pure simplicity to grab her stash of stolen goods in the brief moment she lay supine. In a flash, she was on her feet again and headed for home.
The young thief arrived at her front door in time to greet the doctor as he exited the small living space she shared with her mother.
When she arrived, she found her mother sitting with an older man in the small space that served as their kitchen, living room, and parlor. Immediately she rushed to her mother's side, pressing the back of her hand to the older woman's forehead. “Mom, what are you doing out of bed? And why haven't you made her go?” The last question was directed at the elderly man, who exchanged a smile with her beloved mother.
“I'm fine, Kita. Don't worry about me. I was just talking with Ver Lizbeht about his interpretation of the heavens the past few nights.” Her mother waved her away and Kita was forced to take a step back. “What have you seen in the stars lately, dear?”
“The healer will have a stupendous stroke of luck in the next week,” she answered automatically, plucking away the pillow her mother was resting on to vigorously fluff it up before replacing it.
“Next week?!” Lizbeht's husky laugh rang throughout the small apartment. “Do you teach her to read the future, Sara, or to hand out the same old tired prophecies from the fortune tellers on the street?”
“My daughter is a very level-headed young girl,” Kita's mother replied, seemingly unaffected by the other man's words. “If she said the sky was orange, I would believe her over my own eyes.”
Standing behind her mother, Kita did her best to hide her pleased reaction at her mother's compliment. From the doctor's slightly narrow-eyed gaze, she apparently didn't do all that great of a job.
He rose to his feet and she stepped back, opening the door and standing aside for him. He stopped in the doorway and bowed to her mother. “A pleasure as always, Vre Tessen. I shall return in a week to see how you are progressing.”
Kita barely paid attention as her mother replied to the polite words with similarly polite ones. She followed the doctor out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. “How's she doing?” She asked as soon as the door was closed, her voice hushed in deference to her mother's condition.
The doctor shook his head. “I'm sorry, Vra Tessen. She's gotten steadily worse since the last time I was here. I...” He paused and sighed before reluctantly continuing: “I don't think she'll make it to see the first snowfall.”
“No!” Kita covered her face with her hands to hide the sudden flow of tears. Her hitched and ragged breathing echoed in the bare and narrow hallway. “I don't understand! She can't be that sick, I was giving her the medicine like you told me to! Why isn't she getting better? Why?!”
The doctor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes medicine isn't the answer. We all have to answer when the Weaver calls for us.” Despite his comforting words, Kita was well aware of the practiced, almost mechanical way he acted. No doubt he had to comfort distraught relatives monthly. The idea filled her with anger. Her mom was a person, dammit! A unique, caring individual who didn't deserve to die like this!
She opened her mouth to reprimand the doctor for his callous attitude but was interrupted by the quiet but firm voice behind her. “Kita. Ver Lizbeht has other patients to see today. Come back inside and help me fix dinner.”
Kita glanced back at the doctor only to catch a glimpse of the tip of his balding head disappearing down the stairwell. “All right,” she sighed, covertly wiping away her tears as she followed her mother inside.
“Ver Lizbeht is right, you know.” Her mother's quiet words carried a great amount of importance. Kita paused in putting away her ill-gotten goods to meet her mother's suddenly serious gaze. “When the Weaver comes for you, you can't escape him.”
“But-” Kita's protests died in her throat at the expression on her mother's face.
“Kita, I've taught you how to use the talents the gods have given you. I never taught you to throw those same talents back at the gods' faces. You know the void is coming, you know the dangers we face. You should be focusing on the responsibilities given to you by the gods, not the life of one simple old woman.”
As her mother spoke, Kita could feel tears threatening again. Trying to calm herself down, she bit her cheek until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. “Yes, ma'am,” she replied, looking down at the floor to avoid her mother's stern gaze.
“Good girl. Now come here.” Reaching behind her, her mother untied the leather thong that lay at her neck, reverently kissing the small emerald tied to it before handing it to Kita. “Put this on.”
Kita did as her mother bade, cupping the emerald in her hand. She could not remember a moment when she'd seen her mother without this jewel around her neck, and now it was hers. She glanced at her mother, wondering why now of all nights her mother had given her this gift.
“This is the Emerald Thread. It has been passed down through our family for generations, and only one of our blood is capable of accessing the powers which lie within. Now go out on the roof and read the signs again tonight. The stars have changed and you need to know what is coming in order to survive the trials ahead.”
She wiped away the remnants of her tears on her shirt sleeve and did as her mother bade. Her threadbare garments were poor guard against the chill autumn air; she was shivering so hard it seemed as though the stars were dancing.
After a few moments, the emerald about her neck began to warm to her skin temperature. Then, it grew hotter. And hotter. And hotter still, until it seemed that it would imprint itself into her skin. Kita closed her eyes against the pain. When she opened them again, the stars were so bright they hurt her eyes. Squinting against the sudden bright light did nothing, it pierced her eyelids and rendered her blind.
“What is going on?!” Kita cried out loud, raising her hands to the heavens as she dropped to her knees. “Please, someone tell me!” The stars swirled and danced about her head, dropping silvery stardust on her clothes and over her face. The dance was filled with an exhilarated timelessness, and a beat which Kita found herself dancing to unconsciously.
She didn't know how long she danced, only that she was worn out and standing next to a portal which lead to Greecian lands.