Copyright 2012 Mitul Mistry
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There was an old Abenaki tale, rich with the wonder and pathos of a lost world, that haunted her as her mind drifted down the crypts of buried memory. The youngest daughter of the tribal brave, cherished blossom of the people of the dawn, ever since birth was seen as an omen of the light. Every morning the girl Nayeli would rise and welcome the sun, ushering in a day full of hope and potential, and every night she would dream of the breaking dawn that would renew the Earth the coming morn, the Morningstar that was her love and her life.
But it was one such morn that Nayeli awoke to find her family butchered, her people scattered, and in the burning daylight, the people of the night. With dark patterned bodies and blood coated blades, the people of the night stood triumphant, sparing the sun blossom girl, abducting her, and dragging her into the darkness that was their home.
Bound and broken, she left a trail of luminous tears, knowing she would never again taste the light. The orphan daughter, the blossom of the sun, watched helpless as the petals of her soul withered and fell under the bonds and the lashes of her enslavers. Upon returning from the warpath, the warriors of the night dragged forth their prize, victorious, as their people greeted them with jubilation. With the enemy she now lived, under the threat of brutes and blades, a servant consigned to a life bereft of the nourishment of her birthright, never again to taste the life-giving touch of her beloved Morningstar.