Liat was born the only daughter among many sons in the deserts of Eyktol and at a young age was tending to the tents with her mother helping cook for the multitude of men that would come home hungry after a day of shepherding. A deep abiding love for Yahal was instilled into Liat and each of her siblings during the weaving of each day as her father read parts of the Penita Scrolls and lectured them on the ways of leading a virtuous life. Liat never questioned these teachings, nor sought to rebel against them. Instead, she would merely be admonished by her mother for daydreaming while she should have been working. Liat would envision the veil she would wear at her marriage ceremony, the type of man she was to marry, and how she would further Yahal’s teachings through her own children.
Her father’s sister, Edyth, was a midwife and healer for their collection of tents. Sometimes she would leave for seasons at a time visiting other Tents, traveling with them, until meeting with Liat’s family once again. She seemed always busy, but she had a serene calm that was unshakeable and many went to her for advice.
Liat was in awe of her aunt and, when she could get away from her responsibilities, would accompany Edyth to watch her work. She saw her aunt tend to births, prescribe medicines for pregnancies’ aches and pains, create poultices for burns, teas for stomach aches, and set bones. Liat was fascinated with her work always thinking that magic was not to be trusted, but medicine seemed to be its own kind of wonder. It was after a couple of these trips that Edyth began instructing Liat seeing the potential in the reverence that she approached the healing process. Initially, Liat would only fetch water or certain herbs, and then it developed into calming the patients, holding them while bones were set, or chanting prayers to Yahal to the mother-to-be during labor. Eventually, she began to learn the trade spending most of her days and evening with her aunt. Her mother only begrudgingly let Liat go on these excursions. She needed her in the home tent to help cook and weave. However, she was persuaded after a discussion with Edyth and the promise of the occasional gift from Yahebah which her aunt would bring on her return from trips. It is in this way that Liat spent her childhood learning from her aunt until she was competent enough to begin tending to births and injuries on her own.
Liat was seventeen when told of her impending marriage to a son of Jaben, from the tents of Raz. His name was Abel and he worked the land outside of Yahebah tending to an olive grove to make oil. It was an advantageous marriage, her mother had said. It was as if Yahal, himself, had pre-ordained the union. Liat took the news with excitement, though some trepidation. She had been thinking about her marriage since she was a little girl, but medicine had changed her ultimate desires. Her passion had become midwifing. However, she did not shy from the marriage. She was happy, asking her mother a deluge of questions about her betrothed, but she knew that once she had said her vows, she would have little time for else outside the tent. Her duties would fall back to cooking and helping make oil.
Liat was not wrong in her prediction. She barely had time for medicine minus the occasional birth among the tents. She was not unhappy. Her husband was a kind, reserved type of man who treated her with respect and she enjoyed spending the weaving with his family and neighbors who were all lively and jovial, praising Yahal at the end of each day. However, her days took on a cyclic pattern that wearied her and left her feeling purposeless compared to the varied life of a midwife and healer. A string of miscarriages only enhanced her feeling of worthlessness. Yes, she took care of her husband, but any Benshira woman would be able to do the same and most likely have already borne children. She withdrew into herself spending more time praying to Yahal and meditating rather than attending the weaving in the evening. It was after six years of marriage that Liat discovered she was once again pregnant. She approached it with trepidation and worry, but as her pregnancy continued with little issue and her stomach became full and round, life seemed once again to have purpose. She smiled more frequently, was more affectionate towards Abel, and attended weavings once again praising Yahal for her fortune. She began in earnest to do everything in her power to promote a healthy pregnancy. She took easy morning and evening walks, rested from work when weary, ate proper meals, and drank Benshira tea said to fortify the constitution.
Despite Liat’s efforts, she began her birthing pains an entire season early foreboding ill for the oncoming exertion. It was a hard labor lasting many bells. Her sister-in-law crouched behind Liat supporting her as she sat on the brick birthstool her face red and full of sweat. Edyth presided over her chanting prayers to Yahal and massaging her stomach with oil to quicken the delivery. When the baby came, a rush of afterbirth and blood followed. The baby, a son, was a tiny, pale thing which merely whimpered when given to Liat’s sister-in-law. Edyth hurriedly moved Liat to a prostrate position. She packed her womb with wool and herbs in an effort to staunch the bleeding as she lay lifeless. Four days and nights, she remained that way as a fever took hold. Edyth moistened her lips with water, and cooled her forehead with damp linen. When her fever broke and Liat awoke, it was with anguish in which she learned her son had not survived a day.
Liat’s anguish threw her into a feverish frenzy. For the next couple years, she did everything she thought to do to conceive. She consulted with several Rapas—all who encouraged more fidelity to Yahal, meditated near the olive groves where life and renewal were present, drank teas and tinctures said to increase fertility, she began wearing only red—the color of life’s blood, and dined upon snake, the animal which gives rebirth to itself year after year. Every time she missed her time of bleeding, the light would come back into her eyes as hope returned, and when the eventual miscarriage followed that same light would be extinguished. The fevered dance to conceive would begin again. Abel watched this pattern anxiously. Any kind words from him, or insistences that she stop the madness were only met with stubbornness and blind denial. He became desperate as he saw with each miscarriage his wife wither away. The stress and anxiety created bags beneath her eyes and loosened the clothes about her body as if she were a child playing dress-up. He sent word for her aunt urging for her to hurry.
Edyth arrived at the Tents of Raz to see a woman so different from the one she had visited three years ago. After a ceremonial tea and talk about family, Edyth broached the subject with her niece. At once, Liat was defensive insisting there were still more cures to try, more rituals not yet performed. She continued babbling before a sharp slap from her aunt silenced her. Liat had a hostile womb, her aunt stated simply. As a midwife, Liat was an idiot to keep denying what she knew in her soul, and she was only killing herself in an attempt to do what was impossible. She was torturing herself and her husband. She must seek peace within herself.
The discussion was left at that with Liat remaining subdued and thoughtful for the rest of the evening. However, a change was seen. Over the next year, slowly Liat became more like the girl Abel first married. She returned to the weavings, gained weight, slept more soundly, became more talkative, and even smiled again. Despite these improvements, she seemed to never fully recover her fire despite the occasional stubborn insistence that would crop into disagreements. However, this was rare, and a gentle sadness seemed to take hold of her. The passion that used to be seen in her discussions with others, the quickness in her steps was gone, and she no longer gained pleasure from her husband’s touch. She took to midwifing and healing more frequently. Often, strangers would be seen traveling to and from her tent in search of her aid.
A year passed and though Liat was beginning to feel purpose again, she also felt distant and out of place from her people. Around her the cycle of life was continuing surely forward with families growing while hers remained a tent of two. It was after she delivered twins that a resolve began forming in her head. She spoke to her husband the next day after the weaving, and though he tried to reason with her, she was stubborn in her decision.
They spoke with a Rapa within the season. Though it was uncommon, it was not unheard of to annul due to barrenness and it was with solemn ceremony that the ritual took place. So, it was with bittersweet determination that Liat packed a few belongings and boarded a ship traveling out of Yahebah.
Nothing at this time.
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