Author's note: See? I haven't forgotten, regardless of how anime-crazy the EPBs have been lately. Little otakus. *thumps nearest EPB fondly* 'Bout time you get back into the swing of the main story, dudes.
The group was sitting, hanging on every word she spoke, and it warmed Caralla's heart.
"In the end they decided it would be best to come to an agreement on a series of goals, and then choose the most like-minded of their fellow immortals to invite along. Of course, this was far easier said than done. Still, after long discussions and much debate, they had a plan of action. They would each choose a group of mortals to integrate with, taking the form of human children and joining with whichever clan or tribe or gathering they felt they could be of most use for."
"Why did they want to be kids?" Emmett asked. Caralla smiled at him.
"They knew that they would never be able to successfully pass as adults without first learning by experience. An adult will be asked questions: who are you, why are you here, where did you come from. They will be expected to know how to do things, to understand customs and traditions, and if the immortal ones tried to impersonate adults, it would soon become very obvious to the humans that there was something amiss. Children, however – no one expects a small child, lost and wandering in the wilderness and crying out for their family, obviously the victim of a raid or an attack by either animals or other people, to know much about their world beyond their own home. As children, they would be able to blend in better because no one would think to ask questions they wouldn't be able to answer. And if by chance they were asked, it would be very believable that perhaps the child was not old enough to understand." Emmett nodded, and Caralla saw looks of comprehension on the faces of other listeners as well. Reassured that they had not lost their interest, she continued.
"I'll stick with the two central players for right now, because whereas all of the immortals had tales of their own, it was specifically Div and Rov whose experiences triggered the events that lead us all here today.
"Div's chosen mortal settlement was a small tribe of riverfolk, a group that was locked in a constant back-and-forth battle with the tribe on the other side of the water. Consistently besieged by their stronger enemies, this group was much more cautious than most. Many of their hunters and fighters had perished, and food was becoming scarce with the upcoming cold weather, so there were many who felt it would be...imprudent...to take in another mouth to feed, especially one of unknown origin. Div's life was saved by an older clanswoman, a widow, who gave half of her food and all of her time to the small lost boy, earning them both the wary scrutiny of the rest of the tribe. As such, the little boy Div had chosen to become got to see a side of mortals – of humanity in general – that most of his comrades never did.
"The young boy stayed with the old woman, and as he was too small to recall his family or his tribe, she chose for him a name of her own people – Co'hoi, meaning 'wanderer-come-home'. Unfortunately her tribe were both superstitions and suspicious, and her generosity caused her to become a pariah, an outcast amongst the group, always accepted but never quite trusted. As time passed, the woman who had once been known as Cha'lay – meaning 'she-who-speaks-with-stars', started to be given another name by the villagers; Fu'lah, or 'weak-heart'. They saw it as weakness that she would care for this child when their own resources were stretched so thin. She accepted the name change without qualm as she knew the alternative would be to abandon Co'hoi to the winter wilderness. They moved their dwelling to the outskirts of the camp and there they lived, a part of the tribe really only when someone had a use for them. Fu'lah bore it all with stoic calm, but the new human was baffled. True, he'd seen war and discord and prejudice through his years as a watcher, but living with it, with the negativity and the ridicule day after day, was not something he was expecting."
"How the mighty have fallen," murmured Jasper, and Caralla smiled sadly.
"Yes. He'd gone from being one of the Creator's chosen ambassadors to becoming a small, slightly reviled child of a poor tribe. His lessons were many and harsh, and they began to shape him to fit this new world he was in."
"What about the other one – Rov?" Jess asked curiously. Caralla picked up her tale once more.
"Rov faced a different experience entirely. Unlike the majority of the immortals, Rov decided to join the mortal realm in the form of a small girl-child."
"Dude, he became a girl? That's weird, right?" Jake asked, eyes wide. Caralla shook her head.
"Not at all. Remember, as immortals, none of them had gender. If you'll think back over my words, you'll notice I have never referred to any of them with gender-specific pronouns. Not even the Creator has gender, being instead an amalgamation of all life. So though most of the delegates to the mortal realm chose to become male simply for the freedom of speech and action it gave them, Rov chose the other end of the spectrum. And it was a good choice. In the clan the new child approached, women held a place of power and respect unheard of in most areas of the world. Thus fairly certain of her reception, the little flax-haired girl stumbled into the perimeter of camp dwellings, falling to her knees with a weak cry as if exhausted.
"The response was immediate. No fewer than five mortals dropped what they were doing and rushed to help the shivering girl. She was embraced and coddled, and when it became obvious she was too young to remember her own origins the clan leader – a large woman known as Otollah, or 'gentle protector' – declared that the child had likely experienced some trauma and forbade any questions that might cause the little girl distress. She was adopted by the clan leader herself and raised alongside the leader's own daughter Colena – 'rain dancer' – and groomed to inherit clan leadership jointly upon the demise of Otollah. She was named Shahri – heaven's flame – and under the love and care and acceptance of her new tribe she blossomed and learned quickly.
"I bring these two up especially as examples of the experiences the formerly immortal watchers faced. Hardships were not uncommon, but neither was enjoyment. For the first time they were pretty evenly faced with the good and the bad of life...with the exception of the two expedition leaders, who as you can see were granted very dissimilar upbringing. They were all thrown into a world they'd watched for aeons, and yet their true knowledge had no experience and they were left adrift, forced to learn and grow at a pace dictated by their new mortal forms and the people they were around. Normally this would not have caused problems, save for one thing: as formerly eternal beings, it was soon discovered that they did not physically age as quickly as their wholly mortal contemporaries."
"So they were stuck as little kids? That had to be weird." Jess sounded contemplative more than anything and Caralla gave the girl a half-nod.
"Sort of. Mentally and emotionally, they developed just as fast or slightly faster than normal humans. Physically, it was as though age didn't touch them with as heavy a hand. For example, when Otollah passed on from life, Colena was ready and able to step forward as clan leader in her mother's place. A strong young woman, raised with values of love and generosity, she was well-liked by all and the clan was proud to have her take up the mantle of leadership. The only dilemma was Shahri. Though she had been, to all observations, the same age as her adoptive sister when she came to the clan, she now appeared only slightly older though 18 cycles – roughly nine years – had passed. In addition she was beginning to worry her clanmates because she...knew things. The underground cavern with the deep spring that, had the planters dug where they had planned that spring, would have claimed the life of more than half of the clan; the sky-fire storm – lightning storm – that would have completely destroyed everything had she not convinced them to move their homes closer to the foot of the protecting mountains...things like that began to unnerve her family, yet through it all she was kind, helpful, an absolute joy to be around. They nicknamed her Shahmari – heaven's burning eyes – as it was generally though that she could see things beyond their own world. She was always beloved, yet as she grew that love was tinged with unease and a deepening awe.
"Co'hoi's path was much different. He'd been with the tribe only three years when Fu'lah became ill. She didn't survive the winter. Bereft of the only personm who cared for him, Co'hoi withdrew from daily tribeal life entirely. He kept the dwelling he lived in and paid expected tribute to the welfare of the tribe by relinquishing a portion of his hunting and foraging, but for the most part he was alone. Having been raised as a marginal outcast, he quickly adapted to life as a complete loner. That is, until he came awake one night with the knowledge that the enemy tribe across the river was planning to cross over and completely destroy and enslave the clan he lived with. The tribe leader, a man called Ko'qua'maro, was not inclined to believe the small boy and instead cuffed him hard and sent him back to his lonely dwelling. Co'hoi was undeterred, and tried to warn others in the clan, but they were all aware that their leader had shown the boy no belief and so they were inclined to ignore him as well.
"The attack was bloody, fierce, and over quickly. All that remained of Co'hoi's tribe were burning buildings and the reek of charred flesh. The girls and young women had been rounded up and tied in a line, to be sold as slaves or used as breeders, and the attackers were about to leave when one warrior saw the huddled boy hiding behind a shrub. They tied him with the female captives and dragged him along with them. He was sold to a large, cruel man who wanted nothing more than a whipping boy, and Co'hoi's life went from being one defined by loneliness to one defined by pain. As he aged slowly, it made him more of a target for his captors, and he was soon quite used to beatings and abuse as everyone wanted to take out their frustrations on the little freak boy. For the first time Co'hoi, formerly Div, Firstborn ambassador to the mortal realm and once beloved of the Creator, began to know hatred." She ceased talking, seeing the shock and anger and sadness on the countenances of those that were gathered.
"That's horrible," whispered Esme to no one in particular. "The poor boy."
"Indeed. This was not what he had planned when he sat with his fellows and decided that the human race were to be protected and saved. The harshness of life was something he'd overlooked, choosing to see instead the accomplishments and achievements the mortals he so loved were capable of. Co'hoi the mortal saw first hand that there was an equal amount of darkness in the hearts of the mortal realm as there was light. And that thought, that understanding, began to change him in ways he could never have imagined." She glanced at the clock, seeing that evening was approaching. She'd been speaking for hours. And yet her audience never wavered, and she felt such a swelling of love for them all that she smiled.
"So I think now is a good time for dessert. Any takers?"
"I think that's an excellent idea. What's for dessert?" Jake asked amidst chuckles. It was Alice who answered.
"We've got all the makings for some awesome ice cream sundaes out here," she said with glee, bouncing happily into the kitchen. As a group everyone stood and walked into the other room, conversation flowing easily. Caralla remained on her chair, glancing up to see Carlisle still leaning against the wall.
"Can I get you a sundae?" he joked, and she thought for a moment before nodding.
"Vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, with butterscotch and chocolate drizzled on top. And two cherries." Shaking his head in amusement he left to join the others in the kitchen. Caralla remained seated, her only company the constant raindrops against the window and the mellow crackling of the fireplace.