by Ava D. Dohn
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In a garden darkened by evening’s shadows, a demure figure sat at a stone table, the person’s mind focused on happenings countless light years away. ‘The child will succeed. She must succeed.’ Lowenah had put the players on the board. She had set up the action by calling Legion out, and now she must allow the pieces to finish the game on their own. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of the price soon to be paid for her child’s release from the demon within.
In silence she had watched as the people departed the wardroom. With one hand she could end the war before it started. No. Her children must bring it to a finish. Loneliness swept over Lowenah, sending a chill across her shoulders. It was not good to be alone right now.
Just then, Lowenah heard a gentle footfall on the stone walkway. She looked up to see Ishtar hurrying into the garden. “Is it true?! Is it really true?!” the child excitedly asked. “A Cherub just told me that we leave tomorrow for home. Do I really get to go home?!”
“A Cherub?” Lowenah questioned. “Hmmm…RosMismar...” she called out.
“Yes, my Lord.” came his heartfelt, earnest reply as this fiery sentinel exited one of the doorways into the garden.
Lowenah looked at him for some time, finally commenting, “You do know how to break up a blue mood, don’t you?”
“Yes, my Lord.” RosMismar quietly replied, smiling, “Will there be anything else tonight?”
Lowenah answered, “Thank you, no.” The Cherub departed. She now turned her attention to the wildly ecstatic girl who continued to tease, “Are we going? Are we really going? Oh, please, are we? Are we?”
Lowenah laughed at the girl’s antics, placing a hand on Ishtar’s shoulder to calm her down. “Yes, yes we are. I had planned it for another day, but certain fellows have had other ideas. We shall leave tomorrow, but we will not arrive in a day, so you must be patient.”
Ishtar bounced up and down on her toes in anticipation. Lowenah cautioned her, “Your world is much different than when you lived in it. I am not taking you there to find your past, which, if time permits, you may seek. We go to find something precious to me, as I hope one day it will also be to you.”
Ishtar teased, but Ma-we would say no more. She took the girl by the arm and whispered in her ear. “I have made some mint-cherry wine. Would you like a glass before bed?”
Ishtar nodded her eager acceptance, grinning.
“Good! Good! Then I shall tell you a story about Zadar and the cooking pot. It will fill your head with delightful dreams.”
The two walked arm in arm across the path into the dark chamber leading from the garden, merrily chattering on about nonsensical things as they went.