Cottage House V

Ruseppa was, by nature, a sceptical woman, but she knew that when Arwa swore an oath before the gods, she would honour it. In this world, the will of the gods was an undeniable truth; when people made a vow, they bore its weight. To break such a promise was to invite divine wrath upon oneself. This was precisely why Ruseppa trusted Arwa.

Despite the short time we had spent together, Arwa's unwavering faith in me deeply moved me. I had to do everything in my power to ensure I did not betray that trust or weaken her belief in me.

Preparing medicine from herbs was no longer a mystery to me. What I had learned from Arwa and Siri had built a vast reservoir of knowledge in my mind, allowing me to understand how different plants combined to bring healing. I crushed the selected herbs with the cool metal of the mortar, extracting their essence. Their sharp yet pleasant scents drifted softly through the room, as if nature's deepest secrets were whispering in the air.

As I mixed the ingredients together, Arwa observed me carefully, nodding her approval. Then, she rose from her stool, took a deep breath, and went over to Ruseppa, trying to reassure her.

I gently took Essa from her mother's arms and sat her at the head of the bed. The little girl's tired eyes locked onto mine, filled with both exhaustion and sorrow. I offered her a gentle smile and helped her drink the medicine slowly. Even as her small hands trembled, she displayed remarkable strength for her age. She finished the drink in silence, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.

Whether she would escape the clutches of illness, only time would tell—or, as the believers of this world would say, the gods alone would decide her fate.

Though Arwa did not like Ruseppa, she understood the pain of a mother shedding tears for her child. The woman's desperation was etched into her tear-streaked face.

"Mother Arwa, our past may not have been the best, but please, pray to the gods—not for me, but for my daughter," Ruseppa said, her voice trembling.

Before the words had even fully left her lips, Arwa was already seated by the little girl's bedside.

She gently placed her hands on Essa's forehead, took a deep, heartfelt breath, and closed her eyes tightly. Then, in a voice that rang through the room like a soft melody, she began to pray:

"O mighty Tarhun-Tata, ruler of the highest heavens, hear our prayers! Grant healing to this child's body, peace to her spirit, and strength to her mind. Do not send her to the dark earth before her time; let her remain among the living so she may one day see the children of her children. In the name of the gods, grant her life and protect her soul in your sacred presence!"

When Arwa withdrew her hands and opened her eyes, the atmosphere in the room had shifted.

We had done all that was within our power; now, all that remained was to wait and see whether Essa would recover.

"Do not grieve, Ruseppa. We are but humble servants of the gods. They give life, and they take it away. If Essa's fate is in their hands, then we must submit to their will," Arwa said, fixing her aged eyes upon Ruseppa.

The woman remained silent, but I could see the storm of emotions raging within her. The hardest thing for a mother was to wait in helplessness. Yet, we had done everything we could.

I picked up the basket of healing herbs, and Arwa and I made our way out of the room. Ruseppa stood by the door to see us off. She hesitated for a moment, lowering her gaze to the floor before looking back at us.

"Mother Arwa, please wait a moment. I do not want you to leave before I have repaid my debt to you. It will only take a moment—I will return shortly," she said, her voice softened.

Arwa shook her head. "Ruseppa, I was here for the sake of you and your child's well-being. The gods have already given me all I could ask for. You need not give me anything in return."

But Ruseppa was resolute. "No, Mother Arwa. You have done so much for my daughter. And… I regret the things I have said about you in the past. Please, forgive me and accept my gift."

Arwa gazed into her eyes for a moment before responding in a gentle voice.

"When a person recognises their mistakes and seeks forgiveness, their heart is cleansed. I sincerely thank you, Ruseppa. Whatever the gift may be, I will accept it."

Ruseppa bowed her head in gratitude and went inside to fetch the basket.

"Arwa, what did she say about you in the past that she now seeks forgiveness for?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

A shadow passed over the old woman's face.

"My child, she once told me of a tragedy that happened long ago. I do not have the heart to speak of it further. Please, do not ask me any more about it," she said, her voice unsteady.

I immediately regretted asking. I wished I had remained silent.

A short while later, Ruseppa returned with the basket in her hands.

"Mother Arwa, we are a poor family and have little to give. But I ask you to accept this basket as a token of our gratitude. Also, I will have the boy's soiled clothes washed and sent back to him. As for the garments he wears now, they are our gift to him."

Arwa accepted the basket in silence. "I will pray to the gods for your daughter's health, Ruseppa," she said softly.

"Thank you for the clothes," I added. My eyes searched for Walma, but she had not come to see us off.

Without another word, Arwa and I set off on our way home.