Invasion of DeadLife Nightmare, Part 9

As the meeting continued, all three sat in silence for two candle flickers. The silence was broken by the green-eyed acolyte’s shriek, “No!”

The warrior started to get up, the frame-healer grabbed her arm. The matriarch forgot for a moment it was her friend and started to grab her sword. The frame-healer dropped his arm rapidly and backed away.

“Sorry, I forgot your reflexes. Let her go. Don’t always rush to check her. Her mind will process everything when she sleeps or focuses on other things. You could trigger more problems if you’re always showing up, especially if she was targeted instead of happen chance.”

The matriarch sank into the pillows, feeling disconnected from life. She did some cycles of deep breathing.

“All right. This problem is too big for us to solve. We’re going to need to work together as a community. I saw something like this once on the border. There was an animal disease. All the animal-healers and land-healers spent a period of time looking at things in their own study areas. Then, they had a group meeting. They shared information, went back to their own communities to study and apply what they learned. They met every third moon cycle for about 20 moon cycles. They solved it by working together; it was actually a cart-maker who pulled all the pieces together and created the solution.”

For the first time, both healers brightened a bit.

“Let’s write letters to our trusted contacts. Let’s lay out what we know and the rumors. Let’s ask them to study. Then let’s hold a meeting at the field just outside the town where the War God followers sometimes do War Games. You know… by that little Life Spice stall on the town line?” The matriarch winked at the spirit-healer.

The spirit-healer blushed and sighed. The frame-healer cocked his head, “When?”

“Do we want three moon cycles or four? And do you want me to run the meeting?”

The spirit-healer suggested, “Four, please. This work will be difficult for my kind.”

The frame-healer added, “You run it. I hate talking to people I don’t know, and she and her kind might not be physically able to lead this thing.”

“All right. Thank you both for everything. I owe you. Hugs all around? I promise not to have my sword nearby.”

The other two laughed, everyone hugged, and the healers left.

The matriarch went to her private interior chamber. She began chanting the Giving-Thanks Song while she wrote letters. These were too important and would be trusted to a warrior to deliver. She knew she would replace many candles as the night wore on and letters were written.

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