The Promise

Jamiok rubbed her stomach gingerly. She could hear birds chirping outside as the spring dawn spread its glow into the cave. It was a chilly morning and her breathe came out in puffs of vapour. As her fingers moved over the taut skin, a sudden movement within made her gasp. The creature was really growing inside her, there was no longer any doubt about that.

Jamiok sighed deeply. She had resigned herself to her fate. More or less. Well, what hope is there left to contemplate? The days had turned into weeks and the weeks into months. With each passing day her spirit had flagged a little. Finally she felt it was just foolish to wait any longer.

The brute had come sniffing at the entrance one night and she had allowed it to enter. That was two years ago and it had remained ever since. At least she had protection and meat to eat. She just hated the sight of its hair caked with blood every time it returned from a hunt. She made a whipping stick and forced it to wash each night before settling in her bed. And now as she listened to it snoring quietly beside her, her thoughts wandered again to what might have been.

A light breeze rustled the leaves outside. Jamiok wrapped her wooly cloak tightly around her delicate frame and stepped out of the cave. She made her way slowly up the face of the crevice. The wind got stronger as she climbed. She was moving automatically, on an impulse, being drawn onwards and upwards. She was thinking only of the promise. As she clambered over the last boulder and stepped onto the flat outcrop, the magnificent vista opened up before her. The welcoming wind whipped around her, making her stumble, but she steadied herself upon the barren rock. She closed her eyes and sucked mouthfuls of frigid air into her lungs. She shivered involuntarily.

You shouldn’t come back, he smiled.

But don’t you see? she replied. There is no other place in the world I’d rather be.

[Story based on fantasy art by Christophe Vacher]