The Call of the Earthmother

[Kiffles]

The Call of the Earthmother

Mulgore was beautiful in the spring. How the rolling hills boasted a deep, giddy green after the long months of laying dormant beneath the snow. The sweet smell of flowers. It was as if the Earthmother returned each year from a long, restful slumber to awaken the frozen lands with her loving embrace and warm laughter.

Nothing made Bly happier than to spend lazy afternoons on those plains. How grand it felt to be alive! What an honor it is to be able to be a part of this wide world, she would think to herself, soaking in the warm, fluffy feeling of the sun while she lay in those open fields. If only other people could see it as clearly as I do. If only they could see the wonder that I can see in every blade of grass, every strider that stalks the land, every glorious day that we are given.

It pained her to think of how miners coveted land for less than what it was really worth. People were careless about what they took away from the earth, not considering in the least to give anything back in return. When she told her mother of the problems that vexed her so, the graying woman just smiled. She knew that her daughter was ready.

It was a year in which spring had gone well under way. Again, Mulgore was warmed to splendor for another year, the younger generations preparing for hunts or learning new trades - how to fight, how to tan hides or decipher useful plants. There came an afternoon when Bly had been happily cloud-watching on a knoll. It felt so lovely to lay where the sun was just right and the breeze was perfect. She was sure nobody would begrudge her a small nap...

"Are you intent on laying there until you can count the stars, young one?"

As soon as they had shut, the girl's blue eyes snapped open again, lifting herself to the elbows to find just who had addressed her. Sure enough, the voice did indeed belong to someone. She was old, so much more than even her own mother, her fur peppered more with gray than the black it had been years ago. Her muzzle held a thin, calm frown, but her dark eyes were kind. Bly was sure she had seen the elder woman in the village, before.

"Just for a small nap," she finally replied, itching at her tan furred neck.

The old one shook her head, "I am afraid that a nap will have to be saved for another time. Flowers do not wait to grow." She took sure, smooth steps with the confidence of a twisted wooden staff, its gnarled upper half engraved with small, intricate pictograms. She held a weathered, pink hand out to the girl. "We have much to discuss, my daughter."

Bly took the woman's hand, although she used most of her own weight to stand. She feared pulling the poor, withered woman down in turn. Her voice was timid when it came again, "I am afraid that I do not understand."

"You will, in time," the old woman said. The crows feet gathered at the corners of her eyes as she smiled at the young one, "I am Mai'tepa Hillseeker." Her voice was deep, but smooth and feminine. "And you, daughter, are Bly Blossomtail?" The query earned her a nod. "Your grandmother, then. She was a druidess, as I am and as your mother is."

"Are you looking for my mother, then?" Bly itched at her dark mane, the lengthiest parts weaved into a pair of braids that hung to her bosom. "She should be at home, with--"

Mai'tepa held up a hand, shaking her head, "I was looking for you, daughter. Your mother actually called upon me to talk with you." She turned, her staff leaping forward in the path before her hooves crossed the same bit of ground. "Walk with me, Bly Blossomtail. I would like to discuss the prospects of your training."

Bly went pale beneath her fur. Her stomach knotted.

"But, I planned to study with the fighters and learn how to excel in combat," she chirped, jogging to catch up with the old tauren. Mai'tepa chuckled, the wooden beads in her hair clacking to accompany the sound.

"Your path was laid even before the ceremony of your birth, my dear. Your mother sees it, and so do I. There is a seed inside of your heart, barely cracking open. There are druidic powers within you, but we will have to work on nurturing them to help that seed grow."

The girl stayed a pace or two behind as the grayed woman talked. In a way, she knew that the day would come for such a talk to be had, but…here? Now? About druidism? Of course, it had been studied by her mother, and her mother's mother. The skills were in the bloodline. Yet it was something that Bly was reluctant about.

"...Your grandmother was a druid of the claw, correct?"

"Yes. Mama has told me many stories about her and her training."

"And your mother has traveled the same path," she said softly, looking back at the tan calf. "You, however. I can sense a deviation from that hard-treaded path. A life of fighting is not what you are destined to do, young one." She paused in their walk, leaning weight on her staff. Her eyes cast out over the village in the near distance, the windmills churning gently with the mild breeze. "You love this land. I have seen your joy as you bounded off to play with the others."

Bly recalled those days. Those carefree days when she and the other young adults in the village were but calves, children who play-battled with wooden swords and strung together flowers and grass as crowns and necklaces. The nostalgic feeling made her heart sore. "I do love this land," she said with conviction. "I wish to protect it so much, to preserve the life that has been built for all of us here."

The woman turned to face her, smile softened nearly to a ghost of what it had been. She gently clasped her palm around Bly's shoulder. "You must put your trust in what your ancestors wish for you to do, daughter. I can see now, that you would be capable of so very much. Though, it would be through a means far greater than fighting for these lands."

"With all due respect, Mother Hillseeker. Erm…could you be a bit blunter?" Bly's head was starting to hurt. All she wanted to do today was have a nap.

"If I am to be blunt with you, the answers will not be found. Or rather, they will not hold the same significance as if you found them out for yourself," Mai'tepa replied. They headed down the small, stamped path towards the village. "I wish for you to take the rest of the day to reflect on things. The land, the life here, the Earthmother. How things are all...connected."

"Connected?"

"Yes. Everything in this world, Bly Blossomtail, is connected. We are all a part of each other, as we are with the grass, the trees, the sky…" The old woman paused after they had passed the first alcove of small huts, "What happens to one person may effect the life drastically on another side of the world. Even something as small as the birth of a flower."

Bly's brows furrowed. She had heard similar things from her grandmother, when the woman had been alive. Very little had she thought to pay much attention to it, until now.

"I will…I will try. If that is what is willed of me," she said, finally.

Mai'tepa nodded. "I will speak with you again tomorrow, and you may tell me of what you learn." With that, as quickly as she'd come upon the young tauren, the woman departed, heading for one of the taller teepees on the outskirts of town.

Bly was, once again, left to herself. She ran a hand through her mane and let out a sigh.

"Ancestors, give me strength."

~

[[Just writing up a little storyline to make Bly's training in druidism even more legit. Basically I'm doing it for fun. Feel free to comment, critique and query along the way if you like it!]]