Story for the day: Mizoahi

Leraa has the ability to make anyone smile. He is the cutest creature in the world.

Mizoahi

                Maduq Jhurvehis had been a façade of a name and Kai Linaa was her designation accorded her by the priest of the Haanta islands but the title of Mizoahi was an affectionate designate granted the elven woman by Unghaahi. She was given the Haanta name of One who us Like Water due to her propensity to cry in every possible situation. There were the usual tears of joy and tears of laughter, but there were also tears of pain and dejection, not brewing from any of her misfortune but from the adversity of others.

                A heartfelt embrace shared by two lovers in the square, the sight of new puppies being born to the dogs of the yeomen, the sad wails of relatives hearing of a death in the family were all enough to excite Kai Linaa’s sensibilities. Tears came unbidden for every situation, even for those of the mildest consequence, but the cries most concerning were those that came when something favour was tendered to the elven woman. She would refuse the goodwill and claim she had done nothing to warrant its emergence, and then when words were said in protestation of her claims Kai Linaa would respond with profuse thanks and a flow of tears.

                Almost everyone within the aegis of the Diras castle keep had become accustomed to Kai Linaa’s displays of affectation. At first, her emotional states were misconstrued as contemptuous but it was soon discovered that every tear she shed was done in earnest. For those who were uncertain of how to console such a moved creature, they were assured by the commander and the Den Amhadhri that Kai Linaa needed only to expel the extent of her emotions and all would be well again. The Den Asaan enjoyed deriding her tears, claiming that all Frewyn women made it their object to cry, but King Alasdair grew concerned to see it happen with regularity. He was assured that her behavior was normal, attributing her emotional fragility to her time spent in Thellis, but Alasdair still expressed his concern each time he observed her tears.          

                “Some women will cry at anything, Alasdair,” the commander told the king with a shrug.

                “Carrigh isn’t like that,” he said. “And you never cry. You cry less than I do.”

                “I should hardly call myself a representative woman, Alasdair. Even though most of us have the same attributes, we are not all the same.”

                Alasdair was content to leave the matter aside and Kai Linaa was equally content to cry at everything that delighted and saddened her.

                It was one morning when Obhantaa Leraa offered his services to watch over Prince Dorrin in the common room that Kai Linaa offered to join him. She sat beside the warmth of the hearth reading one of her favourite histories. The legend of Khantara had always diverted and delighted her and she was disposed to read the story in its entirety while Obhantaa attended to the baby. She read as much as she was able without succumbing to tears but the portion of the book in which Khantara’s mate is trapped between life and death was a trial to her nerves. She did her utmost to refrain from crying but the lines were too well written for her sensibilities to bear. She sniffed for a few moments and then surrendered to a torrent of tears.

                Obhantaa heard the disturbance and, as he disliked seeing others in grief, he decided to make Kai Linaa smile. He took from beside Dorrin’s cradle two puppets with which he often amused the baby when seeing him in the same state. He placed a silly-looking lizard on his left hand and a smiling kitten on his right. He whirled around to the crying woman and began dancing, waving the puppets in front of her.   

                “Mizoahi ebhaasit melkundhaas,” Obhantaa sang in a slow and dulcet tune. “Mizoahi ebhaasit melsetaas.”

                The sweetness of Leraa’s character, the simplicity of the tune he hummed and the puppets that pretended to sing it all gained Kai Linaa’s consideration. She smiled. She wiped her tears and she had begun to laugh. The more Obhantaa Leraa hopped about and sang with the silly puppets to accompany him the more she was moved to disregard any sadness. The added pleasure of the giggling baby made the event even more jovial and Kai Linaa resolved to read the remainder of her book with Leraa’s song and dance in mind.