Slightly out of breath, Kira was the first to make it back to their hut. Having almost forgotten about her father’s condition, she stopped short at the entry. Her sister, also lost in the moment, nearly ran into her and both of them had to stifle their laughter before they could go inside.
Kira adored her sister. Most of the time, they seemed more like friends than siblings, although this was probably a result of the fact that there weren’t many other people in the village around Kira’s age.
This was also the reason Kira had not bonded with a man. She was more than old enough for the ritual, but there were no boys her age. This, however, didn’t bother her as she’d never really been too concerned with bonding; an effect, most likely, of her mother’s untimely death. She never really had an older female to spend time with, except maybe Yamara, her father’s cousin and the village wet nurse. At the request of their father, Yamara kept a watchful eye over the girls after their mother’s death, but was far from a mother herself.
Once the girls collected themselves, they quietly entered the hut. It was hot and stuffy inside, and seemed to get warmer as they approached their father’s bed. He was still sleeping, but his breathing was labored; every few moments letting out a whimper, as if he were in pain. Yamara was sitting next to his bed, holding a damp cloth to his head. By the looks of it, his fever still had not broken, and the concerned look on Yamara’s face told them that he was getting worse. Exchanging worried looks, they sat on the floor next to Yamara.
“What can we do?” Kira asked.
“Child, I’m not sure there is anything anyone can do.” Yamara replied, shaking her head in disappointment. The sisters exchanged disheartened glances. “I am afraid to say it, but I think your father is only going to get worse. Conran, the sick hunter your father visited, is also getting worse and I’m not sure he will survive the night. All we can do is beg for the spirits to hear our prayers and heal your father.” Yamara finished with a grave look.
Tears began to well in Kira’s eyes and she could see that her sister was also starting to cry. She knew that she had to be strong for Kaya; strong like she had been when their mother died. Wiping the tears from her own eyes, she put her arm around Kaya and pulled her close. She tried to comfort her by running her fingers through Kaya’s long blonde hair, but the young girl’s tears turned into labored sobs. The tears started to well in her own eyes again as she wondered to herself, what would they do? How would they live without their father? Kira felt angry and helpless.
“I don’t want him to die!” Kaya gasped between her sobs. Pushing away from the embrace, she looked to Kira. The tears streaming down her cheeks were almost too much for Kira to bear. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to say he would be okay, but she couldn’t find the words.
“Now, you two.” Yamara stood up and with a frown said, “Dry your eyes. You know your father wouldn’t want you worrying about him, and it’s time for bed anyway. There’s nothing either of you can do right now besides let him rest. We’ll worry again in the morning. Off with you!” pulling both of them to their feet and waving her hands as if she were chasing a chicken out of the yard, Yamara shooed the girls off to their beds.
Neither one said anything as they crawled into their beds. The day had been long and trying for both of them and it didn’t take long for either of them to find sleep. Before Yamara left for the night, she made sure each girl was tucked in; covering them with additional furs. Putting out the small fire that had been burning in the hearth, she departed.
As the light diminished inside the hut, soft sounds of sleep could be heard behind her. It would be the last time in a long while that either of the girls would get a decent night’s rest.