The Little Ones
It is the 136th moona of the pandemic. We had no vaccine and no chance of one. This was a disease unknown to us. Where it came from and why it came
here is also unknown. Travelers whom have traversed the nearby sectors of our universe claim they have not seen the likes of it. It frightens us to
our very core.
Being one of the chosen, I make my way to Mt. Caloo to seek the wisdom of the ages. There sits of the essence of our elders. There are four us. Two
female. Two male. If we can not find the answers we need, then it will be us who face the greater fears. The Matook remove our clothing. Fine
substances gathered from around our planet are ground together and rubbed upon our bodies. It soaks into our pores. Our minds are no longer our own.
We are given small wicks wrapped in lonka leaves. The Matook light the leaves and we are left on our own to face traversing the mountainside. We have
only these small lonkas for sight. No clothing. No food and no water. The bigger problem for us is that no one has been there in our lifetime. Not in
our parent's lifetime nor that of our grand elder's. No one knows “of” the last time. This means we must rely on our quataries to guide us. If we
get there, then we must figure out how to ask. We are only allowed a moona to arrive, ask, and return with the necessary help. If not, then the four
of us have volunteered to face the greater fear.
It is RaNa season. The skies are heavy. A gooey substance covers everything because of RaNa. We slide. We fall. We are injured. The substances rubbed
into the body of one our males has caused him problems taking in breathes. We try giving him some of our breathes, but it does not help. We are tired.
Our lonkas are gone and now we face the unknown. The ones who sent us understood the unbelievable feat we faced. That our obvious course was failure.
Yet, we tried our best. We are the best. The chosen. What a curse that title carries now.
Everything we own is listed and carry away to our City of Bones. It is the place where our bodies go after the essence is released to find it's own
way up the mountain and to the families of our past. Our best is put on display to remind our people of our servitude and our sacrifice. We are loaded
onto the Satna and we lift off to the stars. To the one place where this disease is rumored to have begun. We wish we were already dead. We face a
total unknown. We can not even make it up a mountain to find the wisdom of the ages, yet, they ask us to make it across the stars to an unknown planet
in hopes of finding a cure.
The planet is heavy and slow. A mooka here is many moonkas to my people. My twin dies from being struck by some sort of Satna that makes it's way on
the ground. A male disappears and we never hear from him again. The other male dies a horrible death from lack of breathe. This is the same male that
had problems on the mountain. I am all that's left and I have no answers. I now know that because of the differences of mookas, the chance that my
people are still alive do not exist. Still, I can not stay here any longer. I go home.
I make my way to the City of Bones. I have seen no living being in the last triad of picaes. The structures are covered with heavy growth. I could not
find the healing place. Many old pieces of pelo that had restoratives properties were there. It was where we were to report to when arriving home. I
suspect a great rattle of the land took it away. Finally, I find the City of Bones.... It fingered out many triads of picaes further than I ever
imagined it could. Big bones and little bones were there. So many....so many. Since the little bones where not usually sent to the City of Bones, I
figured that a final battle took place here. The disease ravaged their minds. It drove them mad and they killed each other. The Little ones against my
Disease was unknown to us. No sickness. No sadness. Everyone lived together in peace. Everyone had what they needed. The Little Ones lived among the
leaves close to streams and rivers. We lived at the base of mountains. Little Ones would sometimes come looking for work to get extra things. Pretty
things. Shiny things. We traded with them or just gave it to them. We had better ways of making all the things they wanted, but we made sure they did
not have to do without. Then one day, it started with one of them wanting even more, and more, and more. Finally more was not enough. They all wanted
more. This was not something we understood. Everyone had. Everyone gave. We had not seen Little Ones with bad thoughts of hurting big people. This
scared us and sent my people searching for a cure.
The old drawings in the healing places told of a planet that we had agree to live on with other beings from around the galaxy. We had heard rumors
that this illness was there long ago. That is why we took the Satna to visit it. To get answers. Yet, it appeared to us that all beings there were
sick as well. They all had the disease. They fought against each other and against all other villages. Even with those across great waters caused by
RaNas. The only thing I was able to come back with me was the name of the disease. The Earth people called it Greed.
edit on 11/19/2013 by tothetenthpower because: (no reason given)