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Jyon’s Love by Robert Eilers, on Flickr

Jyon searched the eyes of his wife for signs of life. Once filled with fervor, glassy orbs stared at nothing. The Slumber of Agynar had taken her life-spirit into the Void.

“I’m sorry Jyon, we did all we could to save her.”

Bainber’s solicitous tone could not give any comfort to the grief Jyon felt encroaching upon his heart. The elders had done everything the healing text allowed: They placed pebbles from the gullet of a mungy on her spine to bring alignment of her body and mind; created an elixir of mumbo root, kolinate leaves, tittling berries, and gunger urine to eliminate the poison from her blood; and sacrificed a yewt to the god Kinbin to display mercy on her body.

Sunlight flooded the tent as the black robed Death Elder came in to scrutinize the body.

“Get out,” Jyon screamed.

“Jyon, you know this must be done,” Bainber urged.

“No.”

“The law says the dead must be burned to prevent the Scurge from coming upon us.”

“I don’t care what the law says, you’re not taking her, not yet.” Jyon stroked her auburn hair. The atrocious nature of dead burning sickened him. Memories of his parent’s burning swirled into remembrance. Many told him it was elegant to see, but watching their flesh burn into an alien blackness and become unrecognizable, their hanging bodies eaten by the flames as their ash fell upon the winds to be blown away to the Eastern lands, had held no resemblance to elegance. He didn’t want the same image perpetrated upon Eleyna.

Jyon picked up her body from the bed.

“What are you doing Jyon?”

“I’m taking her away from here.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I’m the chief Bainber. Eleyna will not be burned. I will take her away so the Scurge will not come to the clan.” Jyon carried Eleyna’s body out of the tent and placed her into a cart. He could feel Bainber’s resentful stare on his back as he led the horse and cart away.

Knowing there was only a small window of time, Jyon urged the horse on a course to the East. For two hours he walked across the flat plain to a hulinta tree standing like a solitary beacon among the grass.

With care he brought Eleyna’s body from the cart and placed her on the ground underneath the tree. Jyon pulled the horse around to face back in the direction of the clan and slapped it into a run.

The chief of the Trangur clan lay next to his wife and gently touched her cheek.

“I love you Eleyna.”

Jyon felt the ground tremble as the Scurge burrowed their way from the ground to claim the dead and the living.

I would like your critiques, your thoughts, your feelings as you read “Jyon’s Love”.

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