Chapter 5: New Tasks (part II)
From the Air of Omla
Satu regretted agreeing to her new task. After doing so, Veeta had given her little direction other than repeating her vague instruction of “searching the histories and stories for anything that may guide them and foretell of such a coming.”
She had gone to the library promptly after leaving the Circle, only stopping briefly to grab some food from the dome of Gemi and Ginva, twins who could not be more different, located across the path from the structure. Satu kept at it until late into the night, far after the moon had risen and set, her mind swimming with visions of former dark days when the sky was orange, of the clans who came together and broke the earth to recreate the Azul and the voices from underground leading the way of her people—a telling, from what she could distinguish from the faded text that was over 300 turns ago, and thus likely a fanciful one.
She sighed and stretched her arms overhead, limbs cracking as she did so. Not for the first time that day did she wonder if Tura would have picked up on something she had not. Much of the writing made little sense to her, as obscure, esoteric and poetic as much of it was. Despite being a highly skilled orator, debtor and connector, Satu’s strength was not in the imaginary realm, what she privately considered to be overly flowery expressions through poem and prose.
And yet, to be a Great meant more than simply excelling in her area of expertise and skill—it required a deep understanding and knowledge of the tales, history and writings of her people, straightforward or not. She knew that Veeta had assigned this task for her for that very reason, to begin the arduous and lengthy task of memorizing these tellings. Still, her being ached with impatience and lack of movement. I’d be serving better in speaking to those of the Mission in this moment, she thought.
She rubbed her eyes and glared at the paper littering the viewing table in front of her. It was time to call it. It bothered her to not feel as though she had made any perceivable progress in her task after working all day in the Library, but it was late and she was exhausted. Defeated, she turned down the burning lights and left the room behind, heading back to the dome.
She wasn’t surprised to find the space empty and dark, but she was a bit disappointed. It had been a couple suns since she last saw Tura, and though it was normal for the woman to spend her nights (and days) away from their shared home, Satu still felt lonely when she found it empty.
Curvy and vivacious, Tura, with her closest—and, if it was even possible, wilder—friend Katina, was extremely popular as a lover. She’d often gently chide Satu, who was not one of the Azul who loved many and often but who instead was rather reserved—and picky—about those she shared pleasure with. “Auntie, you need to have some fun!” was a common encouragement, to which Satu would reply she had plenty of fun, followed by a soft rebuttal for the younger woman to clean up her side of the dome.
Indeed, Satu reasoned, if her sister-daughter spent even a fraction of the time she spent chasing tail on tending to the dome, they’d have a very clean dome indeed. As it was, Satu did her best to take care of their shared space, but as was often the case with those of Air, tasks on the physical plane were not ones that came easily to them. Two of the Air in the same home without other elementals? Well, Satu had long resigned herself to the space being always at least slightly messy and cluttered.
Her stomach grumbled with hunger, reminding Satu that she had not eaten a final meal of the day. Lighting a small globe, the space was bathed in soft, warm light enough for her to hastily prepare some plant and grains. Though Satu was not a cook, Tura enjoyed the role and kept the dome supplied with a wide range of spices and salts, the latter gifted from the Land of Many Waters, which made even quick preparations delicious.
Satisfied by her efforts, Satu sat upon a cushion and began eating, thinking intently.
Now that she had space from the crumbling texts, she could return to the questions that continued to plague her since leaving Veeta at the Circle. She was still perplexed by her assignment, when she had, Omla willing, many years to study the histories and tellings. Though her people were not, by and large, a quick people (despite the speed with which she had made her meal), the experiences they had with the first arrival from Empire One made it clear that this alien people were and thus, it followed that the Azul would want to know any course of how to approach this new contingent sooner than later—so why ask one who only had the most rudimentary understanding of their histories to transverse them for guidance?
She supposed that perhaps there was some yet unseen value in one looking at the histories with the eyes of the young—perhaps she would be able to find something that one of the scholars would easily skim over, assuming a small, yet critical detail was of no importance. This she could understand.
Veeta’s implication of a vision guiding the Circle’s decision to not just look to the texts, but to have Satu do it, however, puzzled her. Mostly because her own visions had never placed her in such a role. Indeed, she was very young when she was gifted the clear vision of her role as a communicator—a vision that had shaped her journey ever since. This abrupt shift—from her practiced role to one so untraveled at such a meaningful time—felt unsettling to Satu in her heart. And yet, for the vision to come from the Elders meant it was to be heeded.
Having finished her meal, Satu began cleaning up and preparing for bed, moving thru the tasks automatically, her mind continuing to fixate on the questions of why her, why now, and, even more confusing, what, indeed, were these new visitors bringing to the land—and what would come of their presence on Omla.