DEMISE

PART TWO: SAFETY

Some fear and others revere what is beyond their comprehension. —Forgotten Promises, a Well-Known Caligoson Book

As Rayne neared her cottage, a tell-tale light in the windows proved that her husband had returned from fishing. Sprinting the last stretch of path and thrusting open the door, she threw herself into Demarkalos's open arms, her face flushed from the cold and exertion. Laughing, they embraced for a moment, before Demarkalos pulled away. "I heard about the incident this morning, with the--oh!" For Deidamia suddenly made her presence known with a prolonged, ear-splitting wail that almost caused Rayne to drop her.

"Wha--" Demarkalos started, but Rayne hurriedly cut him off. "Mark, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but you weren't at the meeting because you were fishing and it was a split second decision and I know I really should have asked first--"

"Rayne," he said worriedly. "What are you talking about?"

"Well...since I was the one to find Deidamia--that's the baby's name--the chief asked me if we would take care of her, and I said yes because I thought you would be okay with it..." she stopped short as Mark's expression morphed from one of anxious confusion to one of pure joy. He kneeled in front of Rayne to get a better look at Deidamia. "Okay?" he whispered, gazing adoringly at the baby in his wife's arms. "I'm better than okay. Much, much better."

~~~***~~~

"So, how was the meeting?" Mark asked, helping himself to the mashed potatoes. They were eating dinner together: Mark and Rayne enjoying salmon and potatoes and Deidamia devouring a baby formula Medium Rosaline had been kind enough to concoct. Medium Rosaline had dropped by, surveying Deidamia with her mismatched eyes--one blue and one brown. Not liking what she saw, she had clucked and shook her head, her golden hair dancing in its messy bun. "That child's malnourished. Although she is doing much better than she should be, considering the situation she was found in. A child, minimally wrapped and sheltered, in subzero temperatures; it's a disgrace even if Deidamia is divine!" And she had shaken her fist at the indignity of it.

Rayne thought for a second, then shrugged. "Cold."

He laughed. "The temperature or the interactions?"

"Both!"

"We should hold the meetings indoors instead of in the marketplace; it's too cold to be hosting them outside now," Mark murmured thoughtfully.

Rayne smiled. "Don't be silly Mark, there's no building in our village that could hold the size of our population. And even if there was, it's not possible to construct a building that could contain Lepkatrana's ego."

"Ah. So she's the issue." He shook his head, frowning. "You two still don't get along, even after all these years."

"Of course we don't. Why would we?" Rayne's tone was clipped and rather pointed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It was...thoughtless of me. I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine," Rayne said, forcing a smile. "Let's just forget about it."

The rest of the meal passed in a rather tense silence.

~~~***~~~

After dinner, in between washing the dishes, Rayne heard a faint muttering sound coming from Deidamia's room. Dropping the bowl and rags she had been holding into the washtub, she raced to the child's room, pausing momentarily at the door to listen, before opening it quietly and slipping inside. The sounds were coming from Deidamia's crib. Peering over the edge, she saw a sleeping Deidamia, her angelic lips moving as she murmured softly "Wilall beseth eyld troyd." Rayne frowned for a moment. She attended enough classes at the local school to know that the girl was speaking the Ancient Language used by the gods. Most believed its use amongst mortals had fizzled out, but here was Deidamia, flesh and blood proof that the language was not extinct.

Absorbed in her thoughts, Rayne let out a hastily stifled shriek when Deidamia popped one eye open and stared at her.

"Oh my goodness, baby girl," Rayne gasped. "You need to stop doing that."

A few seconds later, Mark appeared in the doorway. "Is everything okay? I heard you scream."

"Oh, I just got a little frightened, that's all." For a moment, she struggled with whether or not to tell him about the strange incident. Thinking of the numerous parents whose relationship had been shattered by the introduction of a child, she blurted out. "I walked in just now, and Deidamia was sleep talking. In the Ancient Language."

"That's...strange. Very abnormal. Is she even old enough to be speaking?" he said, moving to stand next to his wife. Although some may have dismissed Rayne's observation as fantasy, especially since the Ancient Language was allegedly no longer spoken, Mark wholeheartedly believed her; it was one of the many qualities she loved in him.

"I think so. I mean, we don't exactly know how old she is."

Mark smiled. "Well, we better start teaching her our language so we don't run into any technical issues in the future. At this rate, the only people she's going to be communicating with are the gods."

"Ha! But Mark...I don't think we should mention this to the others. They'll take it the wrong way, and besides, if Deidamia really was sent by the gods, strange things are bound to happen around her."

"Agreed," Mark said, before leaning down towards the crib and saying in a baby voice, "Are you a gift from the gods, Dei?"

Deidamia let out a rather strained squawk before closing her eyes again.

"We better let her get some sleep," Rayne grinned, as the two turned away from the crib. "It appears little Dei gets cranky when she doesn't get her beauty sleep."

A series of indignant hoots behind them, issued by the aforementioned child herself, silenced them and drove them from the room.