Inherited: Family Curse. Future Hope. (Second Edition)

By Aliya Saige

Celah was the first female born to her family in over 520 years. Her ancestors’ involvement in the assassination of a king in 1342 brought a curse upon the family that prevented any female births for twenty-four generations. However, this curse became the hope of survival for an alien race. So began an outrageous project of desperation spanning four generations and requiring the assistance of Celah and her son, Aerwyn. But trouble appeared on the scene when an outcast band of shape shifters decided to intervene and claim the aliens’ planet for their own nomadic race. Can they be stopped? Will Celah and Aerwyn accept the challenge to help the aliens?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Nov 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781982254810

Aliya Saige

Aliya Saige is a native of Southern California, living with her husband in a small rural community not far from Palm Springs. After more than half a century of living in the city, she learned to love country life with its wide open skies and peaceful lifestyle. She loves the wildlife, amazing sunsets, and brilliant, starry skies. The creative arts have been Aliya’s passion from her youth. In school, she focused on music, playing piano, guitar, and the French horn. She chose commercial art as her career and is still a graphic designer today. She began writing fiction in 2011, bringing her the trilogy she is now creating. Aliya was adopted as an infant and raised in a loving family. At the age of 37, she located her birth mother. Their relationship sparked her interest in genealogy research.

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Cover Image: Edelweiss symbolizes courage, truth, and hope.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-5480-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-5481-0 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date:   04/23/2021

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

WITH THANKS

To my Family

Whose support and patience allowed me the time and

dedication necessary to achieve the

goal of completing this novel.

To my Friends

Who agreed to help me present the best

possible experience for my readers.

A special thanks to Julie Roy, Flavia Krieg,

Dee Madariaga, Robyn Garrison, Kevin Short,

Claire Whitman, and Laura Manseau

for their greatly appreciated editing, critiquing, and

opinions suggesting improvements

to my initial manuscript.

To my Teachers

From whose advice, lectures, sermons, and insights

I have learned so much.

To my Readers

Who have honored me by reading my book

and have shared it with others so we might all

enjoy the journey together.

THANK YOU!

PREFACE

L ife… what is its meaning? Is it for whatever purpose we use it or is there some grander plan in force when we become self-aware of our own existence? Who of us hasn’t asked this question in one form or another at some time during our life?

Many find purpose in life by service to others, engaging in projects that make our world a better place in which to live. And yet, I must add that if a life of service is lived from obligation or while expecting something in return, then personal satisfaction can be lost in the process. Therefore, expectation plays a great part in our perspective of life.

Aerwyn Drake is born into a life anchored to a promise made by his third great grandmother. She was a woman of deep conviction and revered as an oracle by those who believed in her mystical abilities. The promise was not to be broken because life for so many depended on it. Like it or not, Aerwyn was obligated to play his part in a saga he inherited and could not fully embrace it until he met the challenge head-on. Proving to himself that he was able to meet the challenge empowered him to defy the limitations of time and space, travel to a distant planet and experience an adventure that placed him in ultimate service to others on Earth and beyond.

Einstein understood this process. He lived a full and rich life as a scientist and teacher. He had a wife and three children before dying at age 76. While his work as a theoretical physicist denotes much formal education enabling him to lead the world in rethinking the way the universe works, perhaps his greatest service may be in the notion that his life’s work depended largely upon his imagination. Einstein commented often that intuition and imagination played key roles in good scientific processes. He relied on intuition to point him in the direction of conclusions that ultimately proved his intuition was right. He would be more surprised if his intuition was proven wrong than that it was proven correct. Think of it. When one of the greatest minds of our time found imagination so valuable, isn’t it reasonable for us to pay more attention to our intuition and imagination?

"Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution." – Albert Einstein

What major change or invention in our society didn’t first become a thought in someone’s mind? Look around you. Each piece of furniture, building, appliance, or high-tech gadget began as an idea in someone’s imagination. When I was a child imagination was a playtime action. As an adult, it was called daydreaming and looked down upon as a waste of time. But those who continued to imagine – people like John Lennon, the Martin Luther King, the J.K. Rowling, the Stephen Spielberg, Elon Musk, and so many others – move humanity into expanded realms of life experiences, reactivating the value we place on imagination.

I am grateful to these great minds for all for the changes they have made in my ability to imagine, which brings me to the next most important element in life and this trilogy - Inheritance. There is a concept we often quote about standing on the shoulders of giants, perhaps first written down by Bernard Chartres sometime in the 12th century and restated by Isaac Newton in 1675 when he wrote, If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants. We clearly build on all that has gone before therefore inheriting the ideas and creations of our predecessors. So no matter how much we may claim to be original in our thinking, we cannot escape our anchors to the past, those teachings and achievements our ancestors, whether by blood or environment. We owe a great debt to all we experience in our life’s journey because it is from the perspective atop their shoulders that we have come this far and acquire the courage and fortitude to proceed beyond all expectations into the future for generations to come.

In my own life, I have learned that the moment I believe truth or purpose has been discovered to my satisfaction, new ideas become evident and my journey takes a new direction, both in focus and growth. As a teen, I determined to spend my life on a quest to find truth, even when I had no idea that truth is relevant to a perspective and not absolute. I have discovered it several times and it has shifted just as many times in my six decades of life. Around the same time in my high school education, I struggled to decide a career for myself, uncertain whether music, art, or creative writing should be my focus. I believed then I had to make a choice. In retrospect, I have mastered all three to some degree.

The wisdom I have gleaned from all of this, as I view it today, is that the concept we were made in the image of God I was taught as a child really means we are ‘creators’ in his likeness and the life force that surges through us is summoned by that desire to keep creating. It keeps us open to new ideas, building on the old, imagining what works better, and invigorates us to joyfully face each new day with excitement and expectation about the gems we might discover along the journey ahead.

In 2003, I had a vivid vision during a business seminar that literally sent me on a journey I could never have imagined. That experience and the numerous insights I have gotten in the years that followed led me to write this trilogy adventure. Even after the first book was self-published in 2011, I had much to learn. I kept writing. I self-published fourteen short stories, nearly completed book 2 and started on book 3, but the ease with which book 1 nearly wrote itself just wasn’t there while working of the sequels. I still had much to learn and a new business to create before I was ready to update book 1 and take the entire trilogy project to the next level in preparation for film.

I was introduced to the little movie The Secret, which was eye-opening, but the message seemed to stop short of delivering a viable solution. I read works from its contributors including such authors as James Allen, Wallace D. Wattles, Charles F. Haanel, Earnest Holmes, and Napoleon Hill. Still unsatisfied, but knowing there was more to discover, I plunged into a reading frenzy scouring the books by those participating in the movie like John Assaraf, Joe Vitale, and others. Gregg Braddon really struck a chord with me and led me to Bruce Lipton and Lynn McTaggart with whom I greatly resonated. Then I found Jean Houston and eventually Esther and Jerry Hicks at the top of the heap. Hopefully you will investigate a few of these on your own journey through life.

As these authors have explained, we connect to one another through our imaginations. This is how we understand both verbal and non-verbal communications. From imagination we form our dreams, fall in love, build our lives and teach others to walk in our footsteps.

This book was written with imagination rooted in my own, personal growth and experience. It could not have been written sooner than it was. Nor will it’s sequels spring from the same level of imagination that spawned this novel. While this book is initially intended for entertainment, it is also a vehicle of hope, contemplation, renewal, self-evaluation, and expansion for your own, personal imagination.

Therefore, I recommend you read it through the first time for the sheer pleasure and enjoyment of the journey. When you choose to go through the book again, check the many references in the Appendices to claim the deeper meanings behind the story line. Each golden nugget of symbolism has the ability to take you on another journey, one that only you can travel based on your own, personal experiences. Where the dots connect in your imagination, they will either affirm your personal convictions or create fertile ground for new growth. Where they appear awkward or even distasteful, the information can, with your permission, call forth a need for introspection and re-evaluation of your current beliefs. It is not my intention to disrupt those perceptions you hold dear, but rather to expand and enlarge your experience for a fuller, more complete development of your own, unique imagination. As I said earlier, we connect through our imaginations so improving your skills in this area will also improve your communication with others as well as enrich your enjoyment of life.

While imagination is the springboard to personal growth and achievement, there are universal laws that must also be understood and implemented. With such tools as these, many of which you will encounter in the Inherited trilogy, you can personally create a life beyond your wildest dreams. The Inherited trilogy is but one jumping-off point into the portal between the lifestyle you currently know and the one you can ultimately create. As Mike Dooley always asks us to remember, Thoughts become things. Here’s to your magnificent imagination!

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CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1     First Contact

Chapter 2     The Family Trust

Chapter 3     It’s a Girl!

Chapter 4     The Plan of Desperation

Chapter 5     The Great Event

Chapter 6     Adjusting to Change

Chapter 7     The Night After

Chapter 8     Family Matters

Chapter 9     Jacob

Chapter 10   A Husband for Celah

Chapter 11   Grand Council Support

Chapter 12   Facing Reality

Chapter 13   The Plan

Chapter 14   The Encounter

Chapter 15   The Stage is Set

Chapter 16   A Move to Uncle Jesse’s

Chapter 17   Soleil Bay

Chapter 18   Awaiting the Arrival

Chapter 19   The Family Curse

Chapter 20   Preparing for the Delivery

Chapter 21   Secrets

Chapter 22   The Birth

Chapter 23   The Name of a King

Chapter 24   Secret Rendezvous

Chapter 25   The Confidant

Chapter 26   The Celebration

Chapter 27   A Child Shall Lead

Chapter 28   Edelweiss Meadows

Chapter 29   The Move

Chapter 30   The Difficult Decision

Chapter 31   Unexpected Wedding Guests

Chapter 32   Breaking the News

Chapter 33   A Mystery Begins to Unfold

Chapter 34   Skeletons in OUR Closet?

Chapter 35   The Power of Choice

Chapter 36   A Time of Growth and Change

Chapter 37   The Everue Ambush

Chapter 38   In Exchange for Death

Chapter 39   Another Attempt Foiled

Chapter 40   New Players, New Game

Chapter 41   Another Notch in His Belt

Chapter 42   Filling the Chink in Time

Chapter 43   Malvado’s Masterpiece

Chapter 44   Mission Accomplished

Chapter 45   The Meaning of It All

Chapter 46   Home at Last

Appendices

Character Names

Place Descriptions

Flower and Tree Descriptions

Numerology Table and Applications

Weights & Measures Table

Wedding Gifts

Map and Distances

Auras

References

Inherited Trilogy Synopses

CHAPTER 1

First Contact

A static-charged breeze frisked the neck of an elderly lady planting seedlings in her herb garden. Goosebumps tumbled across her shoulders and down her arms.

Mid-May felt warmer than usual in 1836. Tamaya Blu wore a light jacket over her favorite lavender gardening dress with a pale blue and rose-colored scarf instead of her usual wide-brimmed hat. The sun warmed her neck. Tamaya poked at the ground with her trowel, planting a row of bergamot next to her rosemary and reminisced about her life.

She had lived in the North WoodsR¹ since the revolt of 1799, when a new king came into power. The king believed oracles and mystics to be evil, banishing them from his kingdom. Tamaya faced certain death if she stayed so she fled south with her husband and five-year old son.

Her brother-in-law owned a summer cottage on two acres of forested land in the Erez Mountains just inside the neighboring kingdom of Annahedom. The cottage was small but adequate and well suited as a safe house for the young family. He generously deeded the property to his younger brother’s family for their protection.

Tamaya’s husband, Edom Blu, was a jeweler turned carpenter since wood was more plentiful in the forest. They lived two hours by carriage from the nearest village. Edom would take his wares to the open air market in the village twice weekly and always sold enough to pay for his family’s needs.

As her family grew, Tamaya schooled their three boys in the ways of nature and grew herbs to supplement their income and stay in touch with her work as an oracle. The children made it easy for her to commune with other neighboring wives and she soon felt comfortable using her intuitive skills as the occasions presented themselves. Word spread to the village that Tamaya could solve many problems and heal many ills. She knew how to make people feel comfortable around her and soon they started coming to her from miles around. It wasn’t long before the couple decided to rent a small shop in town. It grew into a popular local mercantile, which their boys helped manage.

Life was rich and full in the little township and the family prospered. The boys grew into fine men, married, and two of them moved with their families to distant places. Miles, the eldest, chose to maintain the family business. It was a luxury having him nearby and seeing him every week. Miles hosted all the holidays at his spacious home in the village and the rest of the family gathered there for such celebrations.

Tamaya recalled her sadness when Edom died of a heart attack thirteen months ago. She missed him dearly and felt the ache in her heart drop a tear down her weathered cheek. Yet, she chose to recall the blessings rather than the heartache.

She stayed busy working in her garden. Her faithful customers started traveling to her home again as the trip to town was becoming more difficult for her. They depended on her skills and trusted her more than other health practitioners of their day. It wasn’t only because of her knowledge of herbs and natural remedies, but her words of comfort and encouragement. They felt empowered in her presence and wanted to heal. Something about her was different from other practitioners and people flourished as a result of knowing Tamaya.

The old woman’s daydream was shattered when she struck something hard with her trowel. It didn’t feel like a tree root or a rock, nor did it sound like the metal of a wheel rim or a kettle. In fact, it felt quite foreign to her. Why didn’t she see this coming?

Working her hands down into the fragrant soil, she felt her way to the bottom of the object. It wasn’t very large, nor very heavy. Its smooth and irregular surface made it unidentifiable to the touch. Tamaya caught sight of a large cedar cone laying at the edge of the garden. This mysterious object was about the same size. She carefully lifted the object from its resting place.

Sunlight, reaching through the patterns of forest trees, sparkled on the object’s milky white surface. She gently set the strange item beside her on the soil. It illuminated the dirt still covering its surface. Brushing the dirt aside, the object clearly resembled opalescent milk glass, although it wasn’t glass. It was oblong, covered with bulges that didn’t follow any particular pattern. Its translucent surface displayed a depth beneath the faint, rainbow sheen. The old woman had never seen anything like it.

Cool to the touch and emanating obvious energy from its core, Tamaya was intrigued. She tapped its surface. Something moved inside, startling her. She gasped, It’s alive?

Tamaya shoved the object back in the hole and covered it up. She didn’t want to disturb some creature’s nest.

Tamaya pulled all the dirt back over the egg and patted it down, then sprinkled loose dirt across the top to disguise her meddling. Then she raised herself from her knees to fetch another tray of seedlings from the shed.

Something made her turn to look back at the mound of dirt she had just replaced.

Please don’t leave me here!

It was more an impression of thought than actual words. She knew where it came from, but didn’t want to believe it. I must be imagining things, she heard herself mutter.

She continued to the shed, returning with another tray of seedlings. Glancing towards the dirt mound, she noticed the area illumined with a faint white light.

Please take me with you.

Tamaya cautiously moved closer. Could this be a telepathic embryo? Her curiosity was getting the better of her. It was obvious that her thoughts were clearly understood by whatever lived in the object.

I don’t know what I am. Please… just take me with you.

Ah-eye… I don’t know about that. Why should I?

A nervous suspicion moved through her as she suspected magic and the king’s murderous intentions towards her kind.

I have no reason to trust you, she cautioned herself. Is this the king’s magic haunting me?

No. I’m not from here. I mean you no harm. I have no way of hurting you.

Still, she didn’t trust this stranger.

You are curious. Take me with you and I will answer your questions.

Tamaya thought to herself, This is ridiculous! I’m talking to an egg. It doesn’t know what to call itself and yet it can answer my questions. Really? I must be losing my mind.

Tamaya knelt on the ground with her back to the egg and proceeded to plant seedlings down a new row, working in the opposite direction. She began humming to herself to keep her mind occupied. After a while, she forgot what she was doing and her mind returned to her strange discovery. Her thoughts were interrupted before she realized it.

I am neither bird, nor animal. I came to talk with you.

What? The old woman snapped back into the present. This time the egg read her emotions.

You were asking yourself what sort of creature I am. I am not as you suppose.

What does that mean?

You have no way of knowing who or what I am. Nothing in your experience relates to me.

Bah! I’m done! Tamaya tossed her trowel with disgust into the empty seedling tray, scrambled to her feet, picked up the tray and marched to the shed. In a few moments, she reappeared and went straight into her cottage slamming the heavy wooden door behind her.

A tired sun splashed pink and yellow hues along the underbellies of a few clouds near the horizon. Within moments it slipped out of sight, sighing ‘goodnight’ to the North Woods. Darkness didn’t hesitate to move in and the moonless sky sprinkled a Milky Way of stars from northeast to southwest across the umbrella of night.

The kerosene lamp in the cottage went out and all was dark. An owl flew across the garden and perched on a spruce limb to watch the adjacent meadow for any scurrying rodents. A red fox rustled the branches of a berry bush on his way through the yard. Then all was quiet.

All of a sudden, the flicker of the lamp went back on inside the cottage. Tamaya flung open the cottage door and stormed through the yard to the garden where the object was buried. Dropping to her knees, she quickly dug into the soil, unearthed the egg, muttering, Sweet Land O Goshen from bothersome notions, deliver me!

She carried it back to her cottage where she placed it on the kitchen table and in her mind announced, You win! So what must I know to quiet my crazed mind and get a decent night’s sleep?

What do you wish to know?

Oh… I don’t know. (pausing) What should I call you?

Call me ECCAR³ for we are here.

WE?!, Tamaya blurted. Oh, that’s real comforting. So now you are plural! Have I found twins… or are there more of you? Just how many are we?... No, no… don’t answer that. I won’t sleep a wink with an army of mystery critters lying in wait inside a Trojan egg on my kitchen table.

Tamaya scooped up the egg and rushed to take it back outside, muttering out loud, Under no circumstances am I allowing the likes of you in my house! And I doubt you can roll fast enough or hard enough to break down my door.

Deciphering her intentions, the ECCA responded. No! Wait! We’re harmless. Really!

Without missing a step, Tamaya continued… "Sure you are. And I imagine your ancestor was HerodotusR². How did you come to be in my garden anyway?"

We were put here by our creators.

And they are…?

…from very far away. ECCA replied nervously.

No, I mean who are they? Tamaya clarified her question.

People who need your assistance.

Tamaya slowed to a halt at the edge of her garden. I’m listening.

Your family can help us like none other on the planet.

Tamaya stood, thinking without allowing a clear thought to formulate. She sat down on the cool ground, set the ECCA on the ground in front of her and sighed.

I can see this is going to be a very long conversation and I have neither the desire nor the energy to take it any further tonight.

It is a very long story and we will reveal it to you over time. If you will be patient, we will tell you everything you need to know. We have said enough for tonight. You should rest and we will talk more tomorrow. Do you have some place dark and quite to keep us in the meantime?

Tamaya was still skeptical, but it was late and she was tired. Perhaps tomorrow would be soon enough.

After a moment, she stood up, picked up the ECCA, and carried it to her root cellar near the shed. The root cellar was dug out from a small hill behind her shed. Its wooden door hung on an angled frame leaning against the hill. Tamaya opened the door until gravity caused it to fall back against the slope. At the bottom of the stone steps, Tamaya set the ECCA on a small table just long enough to feel for a match and light a candle. She carried the ECCA to the back of the cellar. The air was thick with the fragrance of drying herbs and wild flowers. The scents calmed her as she vacated and dusted off a place on the shelf furthest from the door on which to set the ECCA.

There now! She proclaimed, This should suit you just fine.

Thank you! We are grateful.

Until tomorrow then. Even her mental voice conveyed Tamaya’s exhaustion.

Rest well.

Hmm…

CHAPTER 2

The Family Trust

T he next morning, the ECCA conversed with Tamaya. Every day we will answer your questions about our purpose here. You will share this information with no one until we glow orange and tell you what to do next.

The old woman blinked with wonderment as she listened to the ECCA. Whenever she thought about questions throughout the day, it responded immediately. ECCA told her many things about her world and places beyond her world that she had no idea existed.

Although many of the stories seemed too fantastic to believe, she found herself trusting her new companion instinctively. Its essence felt tender and benevolent and, over time, the ECCA helped her understand her skills as an oracle better than any other oracles she knew. It helped her communicate with the wild animals she encountered. She began to hear the messages of the plants in her garden, the trees of her forest, and even the planet itself. To her amazement, even the rocks and the ocean had life and breath.

Every day she faithfully went down to the cellar and inquired of the ECCA, Is it time?, And every day for nearly a decade it glowed blue before the unheard voices from within told her something of their mysterious purpose. She told no one of the ECCA or the mysteries it shared with her. The world became filled with magic and she never ceased to be amazed by the depth and breadth of the ECCA’s wisdom.

It was on her eldest son’s fifty-second birthday that the ECCA blinked orange and announced, It is time. It told the Tamaya to give the ECCA to her son and told her what to say. He was to become the next caretaker.

Obeying its instructions, she carefully wrapped the ECCA in a soft cloth and placed it in her smallest leather hunting bagR¹ for safe travel to her son’s birthday celebration.

Her son lived about twenty miles away in a nearby village so he arranged for a carriage to bring her to the event. Many artisans and musicians lived in his community and, since her son loved the arts, he entertained lavishly with his friends on every occasion he could.

A local chamber orchestra greeted the many guests as they arrived at the courtyard party in the cozy country estate at the edge of town. Amusing conversation sparked laughter and gaiety as guests danced and dined from the huge table spread with all kinds of delectable foods.

Tamaya loved to watch the people in their beautiful clothes and admire the fine decorations so typical of her son’s gatherings. She had little in common with most of his friends, but people were always cordial and kind to her.

The hours passed and the celebration stretched late into the evening. Eventually, the mood calmed and the guests left a few at a time. When they were finally alone, the old woman asked for a word in private with her son while his wife busied herself orchestrating the cleanup with the caterers and other hired help. Tamaya requested they go down to his wine cellar where she had safely stored the ECCA earlier in the evening.

Her son was a practical man who would rather avoid the fortune telling and healing antics of his mother. Yet, he respected her and was always a dutiful son. It was from this respect that Tamaya hoped he would follow her instructions regarding her most unusual request.

This was a delicate situation and Tamaya chose her words carefully. She began her explanation with how she discovered the ECCA, emphasizing that their family was chosen to inherit a very special duty, one that involved many people. She noticed a look of skepticism shadow her son’s countenance so she begged him to bear with her a little while longer.

At what she hoped was the right moment, Tamaya led her son to the ECCA where it rested at eye level on a shelf in the darkest corner of the cellar. But her son clearly missed the point thinking this was her birthday present to him and burst into a disappointed rage.

What on earth is this? he gestured at the strange object. What am I to do with such a thing? Why couldn’t you have given me a practical gift, something useful for my trade or my family? he blasted.

Now, wait a minute, Son. This is not really a present from me. My gift is upstairs with the others and you can enjoy it later. The ECCA is a… well… a family matter and… it is actually alive.

Her son’s booming voice interrupted her. Now wait just a minute. You know I’m not the least bit interested in all your spiritual carryings-on. It’s fine by me if you must do what you do at your own home, but don’t bring that flimflam onto me. I won’t have it, he bellowed.

Tamaya took a deep breath, wondering how she would handle this successfully. Without any consult from the ECCA, she pushed on.

Son, if you will just calm down and hear me out, I’m sure you’ll see that this is not of my doing. This is something bigger than you or me and we must…. She paused, thinking better of the direction her words were taking. She glanced around the room pensively, then softened the stress in her face before continuing. After you hear me out, if you don’t agree, we’ll see if there are any options… alright?

After a moment’s deafening silence, her son invited her to proceed. She again summarized the story with slight variations and bit more information, how strangers from another world had brought the ECCA and placed it in her garden. The plan was an elaborate one because the strangers needed their assistance and it must become familiar for the family in order for them to accept its purpose.

Tamaya explained how she had become the first of several family guardians for the ECCA until a very special time in the future, several generations from now. The ECCA had then instructed her about its daily care and in return had answered her questions insisting she tell no one until it was time to pass the ECCA to another guardian. Ten years had passed since she found the ECCA and it was now time to pass the responsibility to her eldest son, as instructed.

But why us? her son retorted. Couldn’t they have chosen someone else?

The old woman, tired of standing, turned around looking for a chair. Where can a weary body sit in this cellar of yours? she asked.

Forgive me, Mother, quipped the son. This whole matter made me forget my manners.

He took a chair from the corner behind him. Here…. Oh, just a moment. It’s a bit dusty. Let me brush if off for you. He pulled a handkerchief out of his vest pocket. It’s probably not been used for quite a while. Grabbing another chair from the opposite corner of the room, he dusted it off as well and sat down facing his mother.

The old woman turned her thoughts back to her son’s question and spoke thoughtfully, As you know, for twenty or so generations all of our children have been boys. There hasn’t been a girl born in our family for close to 400 years… that we know of, anyway… at least, not in our line. The ECCA explained to me that due to this oddity, there is something in us that makes us valuable to them.

Oh, I see. The son interjected as he stood abruptly and started pacing back and forth across the cellar floor while waving his arms expressively. So, we’re doing this for them, whoever they are, and of what benefit is this to us that we should be so willing to help these total strangers? This… this… ECCA object doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen, and certainly not of any threat that we should just bow down submissively before it and carry out its every command as if it were a god or something. He paused to reflect for a moment, then continued, Just where did these ‘strangers’ come from anyway?

The old woman bit her lip as if to keep from saying what she must. She reconsidered her approach and then proceeded. "As a young girl, before becoming an oracle, my parents took me to see a woman in a temple far away from here. They insisted I go without any explanation as to why or where we were traveling. It required many days journey up into the mountains to the north.

When we were finally within sight of the temple, three women in pearl-white, shimmering robes, greeted us on the road. To this day I don’t know what made their robes shine so, she mused. "They said nothing, turned around in front of us, and escorted us the rest of the way up the hill to the temple. My mother told me not to speak unless asked a question. We all walked the rest of the way to the temple in silence.

"At the temple gates, a eunuch approached me as if he were expecting me. He silently bowed before me without acknowledging my parents, turned, and then led us to a waiting room. We sat on marble benches surrounded by sculptures of all the famous oracles that had served in the temple for centuries.

"These were in the days before the revolt of 1799, when the benevolent King Eirwen was murdered. His successor massacred most of the oracles throughout the land. Those who survived fled to the forests, concealing their practices from the new king and his henchmen… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

"So we were in the waiting area and after a short while, a different woman in white came and led us into another, smaller room. In the flickering candlelight of the beige marble reception room, the Oracle of Mercy waited for my arrival. She was sitting on a high-backed, elaborately carved, wooden chair with purple cushions. Although she appeared to be in her eighties, the soul I saw through her eyes displayed a youthful spirit, much closer to my age of seventeen at the time. She extended her hands toward me as if we were sisters and motioned me to her. As I approached and took ahold of her hands, there was both strangeness and familiarity about the place. A thousand questions whirled through my mind. I couldn’t understand my reason for being there or why the Oracle would want to see me. My parents knew, yet they never said a word about it until after I had spoken with the Oracle.

"She had foreseen my future and committed herself to train me as an oracle, saying I would live at the temple until the revolt began. At that time I would need to leave quickly and find a cottage in the North Woods. That is why we came here when you were five years old and where I have lived ever since.

Then the Oracle of Mercy looked deep into my eyes to hold my attention firm and told me, ‘A time will come when your family will save a foreign civilization from themselves.’ It was something I wouldn’t understand until long after I discovered the ECCA. I had completely forgotten about this prediction. Over the past three years, the ECCA gave me bits of information about our family’s future – you, your son, and your grandson, even the daughter that will be born to your grandson. She will be the first female born to us in twenty-four generations. Think of it! She will be your great-granddaughter.

The old woman beamed proudly as she readjusted herself in her chair. The hard, wooden seat was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She must complete the story before going home, so she heaved a weary sigh and then continued.

Just last week I asked the ECCA to please tell me, before I die, why all these things must happen. This was a question that, until now, the ECCA refused to answer. This time, it granted my wish. It told me in thought, but word for word, saying, ‘The time will come when you and your family will save a foreign civilization from themselves.’ That’s when I remembered the words of the Oracle of Mercy. So you see, there is something about us that these strangers need our help. I hope you’ll be patient, and learn from the ECCA. This isn’t our doing. It’s a great work only we can do, and must do to serve others... our calling, if you will.

The son sat in silence, absorbing it all and trying to decide how he actually felt about this responsibility being placed on him. He wasn’t quite sure how to react. He didn’t like it one bit, and yet, for his mother’s sake, he felt obligated to carry out her wishes. She was old and in failing health. It would do no good to argue with her. How could he speak lovingly to her when he felt so imposed upon?

Finally he spoke in an almost pleading tone, Mother, why didn’t you tell me all this before? I thought this oracle thing was simply your decision. If I’d known you were selected maybe I wouldn’t have been so judgmental and harsh with you.

His question surprised the old oracle. It never seemed important, I suppose. I met your father long after I became an oracle and, by the time you were old enough to understand, I didn’t think these events would matter to you. I wanted you to accept me for who I am, not for what I do or why. Son, you know I love you dearly and if I’d thought it would matter I would have told you long ago. Maybe the right time hadn’t happened until now.

They sat in silence as both Tamaya and her son gathered their own thoughts about these things.

After a few moments, the old woman spoke, "Son, I’m tired and my days are numbered. The ECCA has come to us for some