Yasna had gathered all the required grasses, bark, pieces of bone, and dried seeds. It had taken her half a year and many perilous journeys far beyond even the hunters’ territory. Once in March, she almost drowned crossing the stream after snowmelt. Soggy, shivering, and bawling she lay on the bank for the stream had ripped the protective bracelet from her arm; a gift from her brother. For a long while, she had considered jumping back in, letting the current finish the job.
But she hadn’t. She persevered.
Now she carefully laid out her treasures on the old clay tiles in front of Velai, the Flame Reader and waited. Languidly the elder woman inspected each item before arranging them inside a bowl made of copper.
“What answers do you seek?” Velai asked.
Yasna caught a glimpse of her reflection in the red metal.
“The whereabouts of my brother. His name is—”
“The flames do not care for names,” Velai replied with a comforting smile as she set the bowl ablaze.
The blaze erupted in flames of red, blue, and purple that sparkled in the Reader’s eyes; her hairless face resembling a death mask in the eerie spectrum. These eyes focused now on something that wasn’t part of this world. Through the burning window, days and weeks, seasons and years passed in a heartbeat for Velai. The flames voraciously devoured their fuel, sputtered and hissed.
And then it was over.
“Your brother was here.”
Bewilderment washed over Yasna.
“What do you mean… here?”
“The flames told me that he was good to them, fed and nursed them,” Velai continued, “He wants to be good to you too. Be close to you.”
A riptide of sadness built in Yasna’s eyes as the old flame reader stirred with sooty fingers in the bowl. Carefully she lifted a charred artifact from it and gave it to Yasna who burst into tears and with trembling fingers started caressing the blackened bone fragment.