Namtar

She was so still. Unnaturally so. I looked at her, and while watching, I have lost the sense of time. She slowly blinked and exhaled, and I found myself lost in her eyes. She hadn't noticed me as I watched her tilt her head, looking at the landscape. Whatever she was seeing, however, was not the nature. Her mind was elsewhere, as I realized mine was. I postponed doing my tasks long enough. I might see the graceful lady again, or I might not.


I've tilted myself this time, much as she did her head not a moon ago. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't mimic the stillness. As I was floating in her presence, I heard the air movement before I felt it. Her exhale, and then the slow blink, exposing the distant eyes to the light. It seems that my presence pulled her back from where her mind was, as she blinked rapidly, focusing on me. "Don't linger here." With that, she raised, glancing to the sky. I didn't understand the meaning of her words, but I understood the dismissal and need for being alone. I glanced back at her, so still again, as I was leaving to do my tasks.

Next time, she was present at the moment, sharing presence along with space with me as I floated closer. "You didn't heed my warning." Still, as she was, I could feel her sadness ripple the air. "I know you couldn't, but I hoped." With that, I understood what she meant the last time - she knew I couldn't leave the altar. Why ask me to leave, then? I moved closer to her, trying to see her eyes, maybe read something more from them. She smiled, just a small upturn of her lips. "This is no place for a soul to stay, let me free you. It is your time." And with a swing of a tail, the Shade altar was no more, my task to clear the corrupting energy gone.


Days pass quicker when one has company. But it's been said that misery also seeks it. Namtar, as I've learned, suffers from her efforts. Collecting stray souls from Beastclan altars to Shade takes a toll on her. And yet, she persists, day after day, soul after soul. I am but one of many she had saved, and I know me staying here drains her, yet I cannot bring myself to move on, lonely as she is, it would make her lonelier.


I have heard a whisper - a word of a God. I watched as Namtar closes her eyes and listens, and then she moves on, to the next altar in a land long forsaken by the divine. It is Their will she abides, collecting souls, destroying Shade. I do not know who They are. So how can I not stay and admire, as They lead her and she diligently follows, always without complaints? When she pressure us to move on despite knowing we drain her so?

We have learned of her origin, as breeze brings the rumors. Not much about her parents, but how she came to be, why she can see us, that are nothing more than energy. She herself, a soul, mended to their desire, but unlike many, not given before hatching. Still, we do not linger on many details, just one precious piece of information. It gives us hope, maybe we don't have to move on and leave her - if she is willing, if we are willing - perhaps we can help her, or stay by her side. Not as an invisible but soothing presence, but rather as her children, friends, family. And while we contemplate, a new whisper comes...


Sometimes she tells stories. Always cut short, never answering questing after. But we listen, we seek to know more, and we collect every precious piece she gives. Namtar doesn't speak of past often, but sometimes, when the world is as still as she is in the dark of the night, few words slip by.

She was worshiped, as a queen, by one of the beastclans. Her altars not different from ones she now clears, her sacrafices not different from given to shade. Lives given, for protection of beasts and giving them few words of blessing, it seemed... simple. It was simple, to her, as her whims were furfilled, hunger easily sated.

But she didn't warn them of her origin. Body unstable, prone to disasters when unattended. Should they not prepare a meal, she would go berserk, and she knew this. But they didn't. As time passed, beasts relaxed, grew content enough to relax with their guardian, and the worship timing began slipping. She offered no words, content to watch what will unfold. She wasn't their friend, she owed them nothing.

As she regained conciusness, she saw red. Red claws, red ground, and remains in her teeth. They didn't survive her, then. With this, the contract they had had been broken. Unimportant, she thought, they were just a tribe of beasts. But she heard them, voices, broken screams. Their rage, their sorrow. It followed her, bound to her, until she furfills her part.

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