Star People Legacy by Smith, T.L. (feel good books to read .txt) 📕

ahead of me. A structure stood in the middle of the roof. From four posts hung banners of the four Earthly Elements. Beneath each banner sat an Elder. Each Element and each Elder represented a conference of People. With all four Elders here, the entire Nation was considered present.

My heart thudded at the significance of this display. My father complained that even with Unity, it was difficult to get a full consensus. But they were here and in the center of the elders, sat a woman covered by a feathered robe. My mother.

Only I was surprised to see her. The Spirit expected it. My mother sat erect with her eyes closed, humming a tune I’d heard all my life. It was the tune she hummed in meditation. The song called to me, or to the Spirit within me. Flickering memories led me into the structure. I started to circle inside the structure, finally kneeling in front of an Elder.

Water. The Elder raised her head and I recognized her. She was the older version of my friend, Yazzie. Of course she would be first. Her tribe hosted this gathering. I bowed my head to her as she shook a water reed, sprinkling river water over me.

I expected it to be cool and refreshing, but instead each drop felt heavy. Each drop brought me memories of burdens I carried in my mortal life. Lives of soldiers and friends lost in the war. Lives of enemy combatants. The weight of the lives my decisions changed. The weight of Lutz’ death. Even though I knew in my heart each of my actions were necessary, each drop was sorrow. Each drop a teardrop.

Earth was the next banner and an elderly man sang to me, dusting my body with what looked like glitter, but I could feel it wasn’t plastic. Gold dust clung to my damp skin. Sparkling in the light and bringing to me thoughts of all the things I had pursued, not because of the things I needed, but simply wanted. Sometimes taking what I hadn’t earned.

Not just possessions, but people, promotions, and the images I wanted others to have of me, whether they were real or not. I had fought my way into a misogynist society and pretended to be someone I really wasn’t. I wasn’t real in that world, or in this one, not with another being inside me. Who was I? I wanted to brush the gold off, but the song ended and the Spirit inside pulled me to the next Elder.

I went to Fire, afraid of what this Element would expose. A man my father’s age twirled fire batons close enough to my skin they almost singed my flesh, but I was unharmed. Unburned, but feeling heat wash through me. The heat of lingering anger and resentments I’d buried deeper and deeper as I grew older.

Anger against prejudices because of my race, prejudices against my gender. Anger made me be a person I wasn’t. I felt disappointment that my family didn’t respect my choices, that I lost the bond I had with Frankie for so many years. I didn’t know why. I even felt resentment towards Casey. He’d wanted me to return his love. I was afraid to let myself feel. Afraid it would make me weak.

These thousand wounds left by the first three Elements burned from the inside out. Stinging, I stumbled to the last Elder. I fell to the blanket beneath the Air banner. The woman was young, only a bit older than Daniel. She sang, her breath gentle against the pains left by Water, Earth and Fire.

Her voice was soft, but it carried a strength that said everything stopped to listen to her. Her song was light, but also sad, pulling at every regret, every sin, at every guilt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she pulled them all to the surface. She looked upwards and my head tipped back too.

I stared up into a sky already dark enough for stars to flicker bright. Her song changed, to a prayer. If my Spirit was still strong, my mortal weaknesses would be washed away. If my Spirit was tainted with too much darkness, I would be rejected. My Spirit sang with her.

A burst of air washed down over me. It didn’t pass as a breeze should, but swirled around me in a funnel. My body relaxed into the whirlwind, swaying with it, waiting for and accepting judgment. The breeze turned cold, embracing me. It grasped every pain the other Elements pulled to my flesh, blowing them away, cleansing my soul. Accepting me. Preparing me to face the Ci’inkwia priestess. My mother.

Circling the structure again, I felt no hesitation as I knelt before my mother. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, nor stopped humming. Outside the four posts, people began to circle us. Those closest were the Ci’inkwia. They wore ceremonial robes with feathers attached at the hems and woven into their hair or headbands. They sang in the language we were never allowed to use in public.

They got louder as they danced, then all suddenly thrust their arms to the east. I looked and there was the moon rising over the mountains. The song and dance became a frenzy as the moon continued to rise, casting light over the rooftop. Once it was fully up from behind the mountains, they tapered off until they too only hummed, swaying to this sacred hymn.

With no dancers to distract me, I looked to my mother again. She opened her eyes, but what I saw in them wasn’t the cheerful glitter I’d grown up to. “My daughter. Tonight you become the Ci’in and become leader of all our People.”

She spoke to me, in English so that all in attendance could understand. “Before the final ceremony to free your true Spirit to this world, I must have a decision from your mortal being.”

This part of the ceremony was in my Spirit’s memories, I could feel it, but she wasn’t sharing with me. It