Lin
“What is your name?” asks gently. She is sitting by the bedside of Domna Delores. It is late in the afternoon, and the shadows are beginning to gather like hungry ghosts in the corners of the room. “Your Ashkar name. If you wish to tell it to me.”
The small woman in the bed tries to smile. In the few days since has seen her last, she has gone from being a very ill woman to standing upon the threshold of death. She is refusing food, as the dying often do, and according to the neighbor who had summoned would only take a few sips of water. Her hand in ’s felt like a bundle of dried twigs.
“Talia,” she whispers. “My name was Talia.”
nods. “Talia,” she says. “Do you want me to pray for you?”
Because the Maharam cannot pray over you while you die, because you have no family to do it, not even an Ashkar friend. That is the cruelty of exile.
It is not specifically forbidden for the Ashkar to pray over non-Ashkar people, but doesn’t usually do it. Other religions have their own prayers, and there is often a priest or a family member by the bedside to say those words. This, however, is different. Talia is so very alone.
Talia moves restlessly in the bed. “I fear you cannot pray for me. I fear there is no place for me in the world to come. For I am not really Ashkar.”
A great sense of the unfairness of the situation comes over . Ashkar are taught from the cradle to participate in mending the great wounds of the world, which is rife with injustice, cruelty, and prejudice. To strip someone of their faith and their people, of the very fabric of who they are, solely because of who they love, seems to a great injustice in itself. How can a people who have been forced into exile inflict exile on their own?
But what of other crimes? What of those like you and like Asher, the son of the Maharam? Those who dabble in forbidden magic? whispers a small voice in her mind, but banishes it: She is with a patient now, and her own concerns are not to be dwelled on.
“Hush,” says . “You loved someone. You made a home for them; since then, you have lived a life of peace and solitude. You have done no harm in this world. I have no doubt that when you pass into the world to come, the Goddess will welcome you.”
It is true. She has no doubt, and she can say that now in a way she would never have been able to do even half a year ago.
This time, Talia manages to smile. She watches with sunken eyes as takes a scarf from her bag. It had been her mother’s and was embroidered with the words of the Great Prayer.
She puts the scarf in Talia’s hand, wrapping the other woman’s fingers around the fabric. The prayer had been embroidered in gold thread: THE GODDESS IS ONE ; SHE WILL RETURN .
These are the words that are supposed to follow the Ashkar wherever they go, that are meant to be inscribed over the gates of every Sault, that are meant to be held and carried with them from this world into the next.
Talia’s eyes are closed. Under the weight of her hand, the edges of the scarf flutter lightly with her shallow breaths. It will not be long now. Putting aside any misgivings, begins to recite the Prayer for the Dying in as soft a voice as she can. “Go, for the Goddess sends you. Go and she will be with you...”