Schism

     The newborn opened her eyes, and then closed them tightly. This had to be an unpleasant dream. Soft swaddling warmed her chilled flesh, and gentle if rough-skinned hands put a straw to her mouth and whispered for her to drink. Sucking came naturally and the tepid liquid filled her belly. Sleep slipped around her like another layer of the swaddling and the newest Treblican slumbered, dreaming of the womb.

     She awoke the next time with a warm soft body holding her and humming softly. A small content noise escaped her lips and once again the straw was given to her. Warm and full, listening to the sweet lilting tune, feeling and hearing the sound of a heart and breathing, she could almost imagine herself back safely in the womb-cell. But the song tapered away into words and the words were asking a question to which only she had the answer.

     "What name did you choose? What shall we call you, little Martan?" The voice repeated the question, altering the tempo and inflection to capture her charge's attention, pulling the Martan child from the comfort of self into the sometimes-unpleasant outer world. "You are an Alpha, and cannot be afraid to join us. Therefore you're being stubborn and shirking your duties." The voice cajoled and wheedled softly and incessantly. "Tell me your name and I'll whisper a story." The woman rocked and stroked the youngling and coaxed in a gentle way. Marking a path that a functional intellect would follow - obstinate or not. "Say your name and I'll let you sleep again. When you awake I'll have a surprise for you."

     Sleep? There was the enticement that touched the desire of the neonatal mind.

     In a voice rusted and never used, the newest Covener rasped, "Jesyl."

     "Martan-e Jesyl. I'm happy to welcome you to Treblica, third enclave of the Coven." A light kiss tickled her skin above the eyebrow.

     As promised the intrusive voice ceased and withdrew. Though thankfully grateful for the silence, Jess also missed the comforting presence.

     Jess opened her eyes. The rose light glared with starry brilliance but a blink cleared her vision. A face lay nose-to-nose with her. Creamy-tan eyes waited to meet hers, and lips curved in a smile to answer her look of surprised welcome. Sleek dark red hair curled down one high cheekbone. A Brennan, by her coloring, Jess decided. A newborn like herself, by the still glazed look of wonderment. Finding some connection with her heretofore-unexplored body, Jess raised her hand and, with mitten awkward fingers, brushed back the stray locket.

     "I am Chelly," the girl said. "I was born first."

     "I am Jess," Jess replied. "I will rule here. Will you challenge me?"

     Chelly laughed. "Not for leader, only to be first among the others that you will love." And she was.

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