A brief look at a mother and daughter fleeing the ravages of the War of the Tandonni. This is my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers challenge. To see the photo prompt, click here — and don’t forget to click on the blue frog to see everyone else’s (always excellent!) stories.
Narellae paused in her scavenging of other refugees’ discards along the roadside. Her daughter pointed to a painting, broken, half-buried.
A primitive warrior woman stood on a seashore, a bear towering behind her, facing a gigantic fish spitting water from a second mouth on top.
Narellae didn’t recognize the story, but clearly it was sacred. She pushed together the split panel, blew off the dirt, and propped it against a broken wall.
At her daughter’s quizzical look, Narellae bowed to it, saluting whatever gods these were.
Respect was free, and all they had left to give now.
For the story behind the painting, check out How Par Captured the Sun.