by Laura Kaighn
In answer a high-pitched chirping echoed from across the lake. Then a winged specter dove out over the water’s shimmering sunset glow. It pumped those narrow wings rhythmically and rose into the brightness of the sun’s last rays. Chirping again the bird circled then vigorously hovered just meters from the icy liquid gold. “An osprey!” Dorinda breathed, her voice filled with wonder as together they watched the raptor plummet into the crystal glitter. After a moment it rose thrashing and wet, a silver fish impaled on its bronze talons.
“Air and water,” Vesarius affirmed his gaze traveling from the powerful bird of prey ascending into the golden treetops to Dorinda’s enchanted face. “Your totem is one of strength and vision. It has been here all the while I awaited you.” Still holding her hand Vesarius turned back to the bird. “The osprey is guardian of this place. He watches from those trees across the water. He is protector and sentinel. Your totem spirit, Dorinda.”
Finally Dorinda broke her gaze from the raptor, now perched in the canopy of the autumn skyline, tearing at its prize. Emerald eyes bright with facets of wonder, she watched as Vesarius withdrew the Navajo bracelet from its white, hinged box. “I offer you this as a symbol of that totem spirit.” Vesarius slipped the silver cuff onto Dorinda’s wrist. Its silverwork was formed into a feather and was inlaid with three cabochon stones of sky blue and sea green turquoise. “It will protect you, give you strength, as the osprey does this place.”
Vesarius swallowed his swelling heart to explain. “With us Vesar, a bracelet such as this is a pledge of duty and devotion. It is a symbol of family, and of love.” Vesarius placed his free hand over her heart. “I desire to honor you, Dorinda Jade, with my heart, and with my love. Do you accept this gift I pledge?”
Dorinda sniffled. Her eyes had softened to what Vesarius now recognized as a prelude to tears. “I do, Vesarius. I love you.” Her answer was hoarse and she fell against him in a warm embrace which he eagerly returned.
“Your eyes are wet again,” Vesarius announced into her hair. Half chuckling through tears, Dorinda hugged him tighter. “You are honest with your feelings, Green Eyes. I do respect that, if not always in understanding.” Pushing her away, Vesarius considered her smiling, teary-eyed face. “Your eyes are gems of the earth, your hair, fire. All of the elements have lent their gifts to you, Dorinda. I cannot imagine anyone more pleasing as my companion. Yours is a warrior’s spirit.”
As the last sunlit glow faded from the autumn tree line, Vesarius embraced his lover once more and brushed his lips across her fiery crown. “It is time to go,” he whispered, suddenly saddened at the thought of leaving these peaceful woods with its bronze lake and avian guardian.
“I know,” Dorinda mumbled against his jacketed chest. “I don’t want to leave either.” She raised her eyes to his ember gaze. “But wherever you are, I’m with family. There’s a great adventure out there.” Dorinda tilted her head to the violet and salmon sky with its awakening points of fire. “We can always come back here when we grow weary of chasing those stars.” She chuckled. “I dare say the natives’ll be kinder next time. Jonny-Jean Boudinot’ll see to that.”
Huffing in good humor Vesarius quipped, “I am humbled by the wisdom you humans possess.” They returned to the hover arm-in-arm. “Is this something taught to you in school, Green Eyes?”
“What? Wisdom?” Dorinda chuckled. “No, it’s something some of us never learn. It takes the rest of us a lifetime to acquire.” Dori’s arm squeezed his side briefly. “You don’t think the Vesar possess wisdom?”
Shrugging over her Vesarius answered, “I believe we are many times too thick-headed to allow any wisdom to slip through. I would be indebted to you if you would teach me. The words of your Thoreau and Whitman may help.” They had reached the hover and stopped before it.
Turning to him Dorinda bowed her acquiescence. “The books are in your pack. I’ll read them to you on our way to Orthop.”
“Good,” Vesarius expressed stepping around to the door.
When they had both climbed in, Dorinda observed his unspoken truth. “You’re worried about talking to the Orthops, aren’t you?”
Slumping into the driver’s seat, Vesarius admitted, “I feel a heavy burden upon my shoulder crests.” He considered his lover’s impassioned gaze. “A Vesar can battle a rival easily, but a race of warrior insects is a large quarry. Wisdom will be my only weapon.”
When he started the hover and turned it around, Dorinda ventured her prediction with a smile. “Vesarius, you have many gifts. One is your wonderful storytelling. You’re a charmer, whether you admit it or not. You’ll do fine.”
Vesarius half smiled back. “Again you protect me. Your totem is indeed powerful.”
“You never told me what yours was.” Beside him Dorinda fingered the American Indian bracelet at her wrist. “This really is a beautiful and special piece of your heart. Thank you.”
Vesarius smiled at her appreciation of his gift then considered her first comment. “Like wisdom, one may wait a lifespan for a totem spirit to name itself.” Vesarius pulled the hover out onto the road heading again toward town. “My totem came to me, not long ago, in a troubled dream.” The pair coursed above the gray-topped avenue. “I have always been tied to the land, Dorinda. A tracker and explorer of wild places. I, too, once thought mine was a spirit of air, because of Sologin. But she is gone now, and I was wrong.” Amid lengthening shadows, he steered the vehicle lithely along the winding, tree-lined roadway. “Then last night, while I again gazed at the sky, my father’s spirit returned to me, dark and tracking the ground as I do, with bright eyes and enhanced senses. I now believe the wolf is my totem spirit.”
Dorinda blinked from the hover’s passenger seat. “But, Vesarius, it was weak, starving.”
Shaking his head Vesarius countered, “Only in body, Green Eyes. Its spirit is strong. The wolf travels with the wind, along the ground with silence and stealth. Even in death, the wolf is part of the land, returns to the dust. I am honored it has chosen me.”
After several contemplative minutes Dorinda leaned her head at him, and in the looming twilight ventured, “Vesarius, is it ... proper … for a Vesar to have an Earth creature as his totem spirit?”
The lights of Old Forge were now winking through the trees ahead of them. The Pompeii’s first officer measured her question for just a moment. “Living things take different shapes and names in different places,” he said. “But spirits are without shape. I believe the spirits of wolves and Vesar Fvanhnyer hounds are the same.” In earnest he considered her jewel-like gaze. “Perhaps that is why my parents and your Michael share the stars. In spirit we are all alike. Only our outer selves, our packaging, are different.”
Beaming, Dorinda again laid her hand on his reposed lap. “Sarius, your people do have wisdom. There’s hope for our two races yet.” She patted that thigh. “Don’t lose heart. A warrior does find honor in his deeds.”
Vesarius spied the sedate streets of downtown Old Forge glide into view. With its strolling tourists and rustic buildings, there was no sign now of the hamlet’s former crisis. Life here had settled once more into its peaceful normalcy.
The warrior had to agree with his mate; his life continued to hold promises for the future. Wistfully Vesarius offered, “Together, perhaps our deeds are just beginning.”
Many more stories to tell and adventures ahead…
The End
© Sept. 15, 1991; Nov. 28, 2005; Jan. 31, 2008;
Jan. 29, 2016
About the Author
Laura J. Kaighn is an author, educator, professional storyteller and docent naturalist. She has been writing and sharing her stories since childhood. Laura’s loves of nature, science, science fiction and her American Indian heritage date to her earliest interests in reading and research.
Her favorite questions: What if? Why and How?
Laura holds a BA in Elementary Education, Communications minor (1991) and a MS in Library Science (1996) from Glassboro State Col
lege, later Rowan University.
Her previously published works include the YA fantasy/sci-fi novel Earth Child: The E.D. Piper Chronicles (2013) and the MG nature anthology Rabbit’s Tale & Other Rites of Passage: Parables for a Modern Age (2014). Warrior Heart’s sequels: Warrior Spirit, Warrior Trial and Warrior Fury, will be published in quick succession. Volumes five through ten of the Vesar Warrior Legacy will be available in the foreseeable future.
Laura shares her modest home in southern New Jersey with her husband, an extensive library, a bevy of furry and finny pets and her feathery and fuzzy neighbors. She can be reached through her website: http://ladyhawkestorytelling.com/
About the Cover Artist
Irena Fonorow is a graphic artist and designer. She holds a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts in Visual Communications from Stockton University. She’s done freelance print design for a variety of clients, including brochures, posters, business cards, logos and book covers. She also specializes in watercolor and acrylic paints. Irena has exhibited locally and through Stockton’s alumni juried art shows. Her artwork has been sold on Art Exchange as well as through private sales. Irena believes talent, in all its forms, must be shared and enjoyed. The artist lives in Absecon, NJ and gets most of her inspiration from the beauty that surrounds her. You can contact Irena Fonorow at: [email protected].