#thebookoftora

(TW: death, blood, violence.)

Tora sat alone, staring at her sister’s body. <Wake up, Borte...> She whispered, her warpaint smeared by the tears running down her face. <Please...you can’t leave me like this...> 

Borte clung to Tora, gazing at the body of their mother, who had perished in the Naadam. Their father had died two summers before, and now the sisters were orphans. Tora was sixteen summers of age, and her sister, six. <Tora...what will happen to us?> She asked, and her sister’s light blue eyes, so intimidating to many others yet comforting to the little girl, turned to gaze at her.

<I will take care of you.> Tora said simply. And so it was.

But Borte was not moving. Her chest was not rising and falling with the rhythm of life Tora knew so well. Had she not nursed Borte through illness, through injury? Had she not comforted the girl during horrible nightmares in the suns leading to the Naadam every summer? She knew the beat of her heart, the breath of her soul better than anyone. Both were still now, silent. She wasn’t sure what emotion was strongest. Grief, or anger. They married in her soul, melded to the fiber of her very being.

<Tora.> Came a soft, cautious growl at the flap of the yurt, and Tora turned her head. Seeing it was her dearest friend, she grunted back, allowing him entry. The massive male came and sat next to her, his eyes on Borte. <As long as you need. I will help you when you are ready.> He said lowly, laying his arm around Tora’s shoulder. Once, he had hoped to take Tora as his mate, though he’d never gotten up the courage to ask her. 

<I do not know if I will ever be ready, Badai. But come sunrise, I must leave.> Tora whispered. Only Borte and Badai ever saw this side of Tora, and even now, seeing her in her grief tore at Badai’s heart. <I know you cannot come with me, the tribe needs all the warriors it can get.> She added, looking up at him. <And you have your grandmother and Ghoa to look after.> Badai nodded.

<Were it not for Ghoa, Tora...I would follow you anywhere.> He finally said, and Tora nodded. <I know. I am the same.> She replied, and Badai looked down at her. He didn’t dare confirm her love for him, now was not the time. But it killed him to know he could have asked her...and she would have said yes. 

Tora slowly stood and looked at Borte. <She looks as though she is sleeping.> She said sadly, scooping her sister’s body up into her arms. <I carried her on my hip when she was a child...I will carry her now.> She whispered, her voice breaking. He nodded, following her from the yurt, out to the edges of the desert. There, he watched the woman he loved gently place her sister down on the sand, arranging her clothing, gently brushing her fingers through Borte’s hair, over her face. She had so much to say...but she had no words, just staring, turning her stricken gaze skyward.