Celebrations in the wake of Miracles
The night's tension was cut, with one great and full swoop, as the Shamaness returned from the home where the birth took place. In her arms, there was a crying baby boy. Crying! It was a miracle to all those, as a healthy child hadn't been born in over thirty winters for the Honori People. Many wept, some sang, some prayed. All seemed to be well for the Honori people, as life moved onwards towards the sun. The night would be lit with a great, glorious fire, as all gathered round to hold the child, and present him with various gifts. He was given the little carvings they had made, even little grass dolls to hold and stare at in wonder. They passed around sweet roasted Assurush, and decorated themselves and where the baby's bedspot with flowers, and danced until the sun arose upon the eastern horizon once again.
For the first time in years, Yuni stepped down from the hilltop, and laughed. She had been walking with her trusted friend and companion, Shanti, as they talked about their childhoods together. It was light, in stark contrast to what was to come. They had agreed to one thing- Yuni would never again give birth. Her womb was seemingly cursed, cursed with some evil spirit that plagued her and whatever child she hoped to bear. Shanti had somehow convinced Suki to become his Uniux, a concept similar to a spouse in Honori culture, but much less concrete. They had decided to seek children, and although Yuni was saddened by the prospect of never sleeping with her one love again, she was happy for their prospects together. And so, they departed ways. Yuni went to the river and fields to tend the great stalks that arose from the ground- repairing the channels of water trickling and breathing life into the crop, removing any stray weeds, and cutting away stems that no longer bore the Rush.
Meanwhile, at the Obelisk, the two workers continued their struggle, carving the stone with the simple tools they had upon them. A simple hammer, made of a tough gray stone, and a sharp chisel of sorts made of flint. They shaped them, stacked them, and bound them together in a way much more sophisticated than had been seen before in Honori culture. And, as they reached higher into the sky, they hoped the Gods of Sun and Moon, might see their great offering, and continue their stream of blessings down unto their children, as merciful as they are cruel. Both Shanti and Juli knew the strangeness of their ambition, a long and thin pillar into the sky? It was anything but orthodox or practical. But, their work almost enchanted them in it's absurdity. Here they were, doing something their people had never done before. Maybe this would get their divine protector's attention, and be enough for them and their grace.
Homa, in her elder ways, was tired. Exhausted even. Her desperate attempts to aid those around her had, -somewhat- paid off, as the new boy would seem as healthy as ever when she went to attend to him every day. With a new sense in drive and accomplishment, she continued her work, and day in and day out she left to go gather more herbs and learn new remedies to their ailments. Shanti and Suki were planning on receiving a child of their own, while Arki needed treatment for her birthing-illness. She seemed to never rest, and worked herself into the ground, nigh obsessively, with the one goal- protecting the lives of her friends, family, and the generations they would create.