Oathtaker

The group followed a footpath to the front of the main building. Gravel crunched under their feet. Overhead the leaves of massive trees fluttered in the soft morning breeze. For the most part, the dew had burnt off, yet small glistening droplets still clung to the grass in the dappled shade beneath the trees. Pillars of night blooming jasmine, their blossoms just closing, their light, fruity aroma filling the air, grew near the entrance to the main building.

“What lovely gardens,” Mara said. “Who sees to them? That can’t be a small job.”

“That’s one of my many duties,” Ted said. “Francis assists me. It’s such a joy to work at sanctuary. Until I get a new charge, this is the closest I can imagine to being and doing as the Good One would have.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I figure the Good One is responsible for all life and all good things. He made the world and all that’s in it. That’s where the name Creovita comes from—‘give life.’ Being creative is the best way I know to be like Him. Really, I think people have an innate longing to create, and that they are happiest when doing so. Fortunately, I get to satisfy my own such desires.” He hesitated. “Does that make sense?”

“It certainly does.”

Enjoying the heady scent of the jasmine, Mara approached sanctuary’s front entrance, Nina at her side. The infants both rested contentedly. Reigna wriggled, then stretched her little hands and made them into fists. Mara grasped one and kissed it.

Just then, Francis and Patrick arrived with the horses. Francis motioned that he’d bring them to the back of the building.

“Right this way,” Ted then said as he led the group inside.