My tribe limps to it's death like an ailing animal, but all I can think of is my own personal catastrophe.
I have not had my courses for four months, and I threw up my breakfast this morning.
I believe that the child I carry is a gift from the Gods to our tribe. That he will unite us and lead us into a new era. I wish I could tell everyone.
"How do you know he is a savior?" they would ask.
"Because I am a virgin."
Then the elders would examine me, and know it to be true, but I cannot risk it. The elders know the only man I have ever been alone with is my scholar; his privileged status allows him private counsel. They also hear the whispers; people believe him to be a phrophet, above the elders. Jealousy is an ugly fruit. They would denounce us. He would be killed for an act of indecency. But the child; known to be demi-God? They would raise him, twist him to their wills. That is not what fate has in store for my child.
What I must do now frightens and sickens me. I gather my tribe, tell them of my "vision". I must travel many miles, past mountains, plains, forests of clouds, to where the fountain of truth is. In it's waters I shall see the image of the demon; when I destroy the image of the demon, so too shall it fade away. But I must go alone. They shudder together, as we did at the first sight of the demon. A bonfire is lit to give me strength. The tribe dances ferociously, painted, eyes rolling. the drums echoes my child's heartbeat, resounding in my bones. I am now a part of another tribe; of motherhood. I dance without care this last night in the tribe of my father. I know my flailing knees and elbows entice some, and I receive two more marriage proposals, all discreet, promising to relieve me of the quest's burden. I could no more accept their offer then I could shut off my heart.
When all have collapsed, and we are alone, my scholar begs to come with me and my heart breaks a thousand times to tell him "No", but he must stay, to ensure my tribe any survive, that I have a home to come back to. It is to his credit as well, that he does not ask me to stay. He understands, I wonder if perhaps he even knows. By the firelight his eyes blaze and I could believe the rumors.
I take supplies and bid farewell, walking into the sunrise, as is our custom.
The hardest step remains. She is awake now, as I approach her cage, examining her toenails. It is time to fly now. I throw open her door.
" Eloise. My name is Eloise."
Instantly she is upon me, her hands holding my almost rounding belly, teeth gleaming, eyes wild. I see the power I have given her, in my folly, What have I done? I fear for my life, my child, my tribe. Damn fool! So taken in, her patsy! She sucks in air, triumphant,
"What a stupid name."
She laughs, steps down, and stretches,
"God. You're going to get fatter."
I hate her and at the same time, love her dearly.
Slowly my bright world begins to turn again.