I hope you guys like this story! This is based on Hao's second life as a Patch. Please review and tell me what you think!
Meda Yoki, that is my name and like my namesake, I follow the set path of the Meda tribe... The Meda tribe, is a nomadic tribe, never staying one place for too long. We go from village to village, plains to plains, mountains to mountains, setting up wherever it pleased us. It was our name that provided us food whenever the animals we hunted were almost nonexistent. The Meda tribe, a tribe that connected with the dead, bearing only shamans they carried a horrifying soul with them as they did exactly as was their tradition when confronted with people who had just lost their loved ones; ferry them into the afterlife. Yes it is told that souls can pass on when they are ready, it is true, but there are those who are lost, who lose themselves who are held down because of others that we must come in. There is also the reason that when being ferried it is easier for the spirit to be passed on for if they were to go by themselves wandering evil spirits could snatch them and send them to the depths of hell.
Meda Yoki, that is my name and like my namesake, I follow the set path of the Meda tribe…or at least that was what I had intentionally wanted to do, but only one thing had stopped me. Since I was born my health had always been a problem. It seems as if I were to ever use a spirit to communicate with or connect with, my health would spiral down. Such a weakling child could never live the life of a Meda tribe member. As a result when we stopped, there was another tribe nearby. They were the Patch tribe and just like us they were shamans. They weren't nomadic like us and so the perfect opportunity came. I was left with the Patch tribe at the tender age of seven, watching as my tribe faded away into the dusk of night.
The incident caused me to get even sicker. The Patch healers had tried to help me, but it seemed as if nothing could be done. Even the furyoku that they had used only let me live a bit longer than one would think. Until a Patch child by the name of Hao had visited me that is; the boy himself was older than me by a year. His visits, with his smile and charisma had really cheered me up. Especially when he would connect with the spirits, taking on their personality, and little by little I regained my strength despite my leech hanging on tightly to my lifeline.
Now at the age sixteen, I've become one of the tribal healers, not in the sense of using my shaman powers, but rather with herbs and such. I've become like the Grim Reaper in the eyes of outsiders and to others in the tribe. I've become like an angel in the eyes of outsiders and to others in the tribe. In their eyes I am the Angel of Death, taking the souls of their loved ones ensuring their safe passage through the afterlife. Though only the tribal members know that when ferrying their souls, my own life is put in danger because of my leech. The outsiders don't know of such a thing, and I want it to stay that way. I can't let my health get in the way of lessening the burden that one feels when someone they love is gone forever. Doing such a thing, helping them feel better knowing that their person finally made it and isn't trapped in our world, makes me forget about this parasite of mine.
They tribe is fine with it. Well at least almost all of them. Only Hao who has become a great friend to me despises it, especially when the outsiders ask for my aid. It could be that they are human.
His hatred for humans, I know of it very well. It makes me wonder what had happened for him to have such an intense hatred for them. It makes me sad because I know with the way I am now, I could never help, but one day I will show him that not all humans are what he makes them out to be.
Why?
Because I Meda Yoki, am in love with the Patch tribal member Hao. I am in love with my friend, and love that will never be reciprocated.
Why?
A tribal man wants and needs a strong woman who has a strong spirit and can be able to give birth. A tribal man doesn't need a weak sick woman who could barely bare out her oversoul without almost being close to death.
Why?
It is Law of Nature. On the strongest survive. This was what I had been taught when I lived with my tribe. That was why I was abandoned. This is why I will be alone until my death. This is why my soul will be given to my companion spirit to be devoured.
Why?
The Meda's tribal spirit is the Spirit of Death, otherwise known as the Grim Reaper. By connecting with him, we are able to let our souls leave our bodies for a short few seconds to ferry the dead. By doing such a thing, it puts a strain on my body, killing it little by little. In fact I'm not even supposed to possess such a spirit, only caring the weaker smaller spirits if I were to carry the spirits over. But as the only daughter of the chief, I was granted with it by my mother without the rest of the tribal members knowing for reasons I don't even understand.
Because of this, I don't have much to live. Because of this, I will keep quiet of my feelings and try to save my friend from being consumed by his hatred. Hopefully, I could do this before passing away. For now though, this is my story of my remaining days in the Patch tribe.