Ripuka.
Storyteller, traditionalist, faithful, loyal, loving but insane. She was all those things and more. She was strong and wise, a lioness not afraid to stand up for what she believed in.
There were demons in her head. Demons in her heart. Demons sitting on her shoulders whispering secret, horrible, wonderful things that taunted and tempted and won her over.
We thought you were breaking, Ripuka?
Do you love Finar-Si?
Do you love your son?
The storyteller had always held traces of madness in her blood. It was a madness brought on from her faith and the moments when it weakened. She had weakened as a youth and mated with a rogue. Desperate to seek forgiveness she killed the cubs born from the encounter and banished herself from the lands to purge herself of such treacherous thoughts.
The rogue lands had filled her with rage and anger. She had hated being surrounded by those weaker than her, those who were not blessed. It had been torture, a torture that she thought could never end. Then, finally, she was called back to the lands by a sign.
The Firekin were dying.
The message had rung out across the lands; spreading gossip and rumour amongst pride cats and rogues a like. She herself had picked up on this message and that had been the message.
Finar-Si had brought those words to her. Finar-Si was calling her back.
All was forgiven.
And so, Ripuka had moved back to the lands, wanting to use her knowledge to help. Perhaps she could ever have children to increase the numbers. She was not of the royal line. In fact, she was the last of her line. Her family held a lighter-coloured pelt than most, more orange than red. But it was beautiful and she as terribly proud of it.
So, she sought acceptance with the new King Kimeti and took her place in the desert once more. From that day forward she had pushed away doubts and embraced her faith with a new vigour never seen before. She adored Finar-Si and waited desperately for the day when she would return to lead them into new prosperity.
That day never came.
And, after a long while, Ripuka found love. It wasn’t love at first. No, it was a mating to bring new blood to the lands, nothing more and nothing less. Yet slowly she had fallen in love with him. Deeply in love. She loved Makaa’kali with all of her heart. Maybe deep down she knew he was no true Firekin, but whether she did or did not, her belief was strong enough that she no longer saw it.
Makaa was a Firekin just like she was.
Then it happened.
Her children were born. Three beautiful children. But there was a problem with one of them. Dear Azarax, her middle-child, was born with a sandy pelt. Fear gripped her. A desperate, terrible fear that refused to let her go. She knew that such a child would not be able to survive in the pride. Questions would be asked about who the father was, whether she had bred with a rogue. Makaa was not there to back up her story. What could she do?
She couldn’t kill another child. She just couldn’t!
But she was also afraid that Finar-Si would find out. That she would lose all the respect that she had built up.
So Ripuka did the next best thing. She gave her child away to the slaves and acted as if she knew nothing of him. But she couldn’t keep it up for long and soon her secret came out and Azarax knew who his mother was.
That had been the start of her decline in faith; faith that had taken another blow when Finar-Si had not come to aid them in their battle against the rebels.
Her mother’s love was put to test against her faith.
But in the end her faith held out and she turned from those who had turned from their faith.
But that wasn’t the end. She thought of her son often, thought of him so dearly. And what hurt the most was the fact that he would never know. That he would never know how much his mother loved him.
She tried to strengthen her faith with loyal, faithful words. But they felt dry and meaningless in her mouth now. She was losing herself, losing everything that she had ever believed in. And she was afraid of the future. Afraid that Finar-Si might find out that she was losing sight of the true spirit of the Firekin.
Forget Azarax. He’s gone now. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You’ll have a new family soon.
He saved your life.
There’s nothing you can do. Trust in Finar-Si.
You love him…
Ripuka snarled and rose onto her feet, limping out across the sand. She was old and battle-scarred but there was life and fight in her yet. She just hated being left alone, hated those voices that taunted her when there was nothing else to think about.
She knew what had brought them on, however.
Her cubs. Her unborn cubs.
She was terrified that she might birth another unnatural, that she might be cursed because of her mistake so long ago as a youth. Maybe Finar-Si had marked her as a traitor then, marked her so that she could not hide her terrible sins from the rest of the pride. Maybe she’d never really had the Goddess’ forgiveness at all. Maybe she’d been kidding herself all this time. Maybe she’d abandoned Azarax for nothing.
No…she’d abandoned him to save his life.
He’d have died by now if she hadn’t…
“Even still…if it happens again. If there’s another cub with a sandy pelt…could I really abandon it? Do I have the strength do that again?”
“What does it matter if your cub has a sandy pelt?” A sudden, unexpected voice chirped.
Ripuka swung around with a snarl, faltering slightly as her weak front leg bowed under her weight. She had been expecting a lion but there was no one. No one except a little orange bird sat perched by the oasis. The lioness curled back her lips to reveal yellowing teeth.
“How dare you spy on me, prey-bird!”
The small avian hopped higher on her perch and blinked her bright black eyes. She seemed timid but not so afraid that she was going to fly off without replying. She was a motherly creature and though this lioness wasn’t young, she sensed a somewhat vulnerable aura about her.
“I’m sorry for startling you. I didn’t mean to pry. I overheard whilst I was preening.” Her feathers were still moist from her bath and it was apparent she’d been zipping her orange plumage back to full, gleaming beauty.
“I’ve seen lions of all colours. What does it matter if you have a sandy cub?”
Normally Ripuka would have turned off or attacked by now. But it was clear she needed to speak and this bird was far more trustworthy than any lion of the pride. Maybe she’d been sent to help, or to chase away some of those annoying demons fluttering insistently at her ears.
“Because I am Firekin.” She replied proudly. “True Firekin. We are red, black and white. Nothing else will do. Those who are a different colour are slaves, inferiors…pathetic, miserable creatures who don’t deserve our time. That is why my cubs must be born red.”
The bird gave a soft, sad chirp. “You are afraid they might be killed if they are not red? That you may have to abandon them so that none in your pride can find out? But…lioness, if you are red and your mate is red, why would your children not be?”
”I don’t know.” Ripuka cried angrily. “I don’t know why that would be. My family has been red for all eternity. Makaa is red too. We are both Firekin. Loyal Firekin and yet I birthed a sandy son. If it happens again there’ll be nowhere to hide it. Our pride is small and suspicious. I couldn’t hide it here. It would have to go.”
”I realise it is not my place to say, lioness, but I’ll tell you this anyway. I am middle-aged now and over my time I have adopted many children. They were not birds. They were wild dogs and lions. Even still, I loved them as if they were my own and when they were old enough to take care of themselves I left them to their own devices.” She hopped a little closer, convinced that the predator would not try to attack her.
“Children are more important than anything in this world. Children are the ones who rely on us for protection and love. I understand that you are in a difficult position. I do not understand your politics and rules, for I am a bird and we have no such things. I have always wanted children and have never been blessed with a mate to give me any. I am saddened by that but there is nothing that can be done. You need to do what is right for your children. And, if you are forced to leave them, leave them with someone who will care and love for them. Adoption is no bad thing.”
Ripuka set her jaw and lifted her head. “Bird, you speak out of line. I am the predator and I am wise. You do not need to give me advice.” She turned her eyes away. “But, you are right. I will not kill any children that cannot stay as Firekin. Nor will I leave them with slaves.”
Her face grew serious. “I know someone who could help. The very son I abandoned so long ago. Dear Azarax.” She growled. “But this time there will be no cursed cubs.” She swept round and left the bird alone, heading back for the dens.
And mumbled under her breath was a plea. One desperate plea.
“Finar-Si. Please. If I mean anything to you, see my cubs are red. I beg of you. Listen to this old fool. Grant her this one thing and bring joy.”
