Part Three. (<Part One)

“We cannot let this information return to the Plainkind people. It could ruin their civilization, or, as it has in the past, ruin both theirs and ours. That it is a Plainkind girl, Marisa, who knows of it only makes our deliberation more difficult.”

The light-haired Shriken, Sikt, crossed his arms. He sat at a circular stone table. There was room for five but at the moment there were only two others, Jolanin and Ettin.

Jolanin nodded, “But what can we do? Perhaps we can swear her to secrecy and send her back.”

The dark-haired man, Ettin, shook his head, “we cannot logically trust her. Not only is she a Plainkind, and therefore immature, but she is young even by the standards of Plainkind people. Can we truly trust someone who is so comparatively infantile?”  Continue reading “Mariça”