Marriage Between the Gamaaloth Nation and a Healer Clan

Time frame: wartime

"In contrast to your clan, we, healer girls, could only have female offspring. Even though we possessed fertile wombs, for some reason, whenever we gave birth to baby boys, they would soon die," Sophia explained slowly, fully aware of the danger her words held. "It's not very different from what Uzana told me about your people's treatment of your baby girls."

Only then did Ragnar realize that a marriage between the Gamaaloth Nation and a healer clan would likely not result in offspring.

"Both of our clans are genetically modified mutants that our ancestors intentionally created for warfare. Perhaps that's why our lineages are so strictly maintained, to ensure our clans' superiority is passed down uninterrupted. Gamaaloth can only have male offspring, and Healer can only have female offspring," Sophia continued.

Ragnar listened intently.

"If the healer girls cannot provide you with offspring, what will become of them?" Sophia inquired, suppressing her underlying fear.

Ragnar remained seated on the rock, his legs spread and his hands resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the flowing waterfall.

"You haven't answered my question yet," Ragnar broke the silence.

"Yes?" Sophia was taken aback.

"About the concept of marriage."

"Oh, that. Marriage is a sacred bond between a man and a woman, allowing them to stand together through all challenges for a lifetime."

"Lifetime?" Ragnar echoed.

"Yes, a lifetime."

"How long can a Cescil woman live?"

"Hmm? Their lifespan usually ranges from 70 to 100 years. Medical advancements in Cescil have been significant. Healer girls like us often live much longer than that. But..." Sophia's voice trailed off.

"But what?"

"Most of us don't die from old age," Sophia said with bitterness. Her own mother had died shortly after giving birth to her due to accusations of witchcraft and enchanting the king.

"Could it extend up to 200 years?"

"Perhaps. Our elders can live to around 170 years, Ragnar."

"Oh." Ragnar's amazement was evident. "I had no idea women could live that long."

Sophia responded with a sardonic smile. "Probably because, in your land, they die after giving birth to your child."

"Yes. They often experience intense pain and bleeding during childbirth, leading to their death."

"Does Gamaaloth have midwives or medical experts?"

"No."

"No wonder they die."

Ragnar looked up and sighed. Sophia observed a hint of regret on his face. He truly didn't comprehend that women could survive beyond childbirth.

"Noon is approaching. I must return to the kitchen to tend to the food. We'll continue our conversation tomorrow. There's much we need to discuss, Ragnar. After all, you will be marrying into the healer clan. I hope that, as their warlord, you'll pass on what you've learned from me to your people."

Ragnar frowned at Sophia's words. "Chatting with you every day?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Every day?" He repeated.

"Yes, every day."

"What if I get driven mad from your incessant chatter?"

Sophia shrugged. "Such is the fate of husbands, dear Ragnar. They often go mad from a lifetime of listening to their wives nag," she said with a laugh.

Ragnar's expression shifted to one of horror.

Sophia chuckled. "How endearing you are, Ragnar." She was about to bend down to pick up the medicine basket when Ragnar swiftly retrieved it from her and carried it.

"Thank you," Sophia acknowledged.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the basket felt almost weightless in Ragnar's grasp. The trees grew denser around them, and the sounds of rustling leaves and scurrying animals enveloped the air.

Still, there was a serene quality to the environment that put Sophia at ease in Ragnar's company. The sunlight filtering through the canopy illuminated the floating specks of dust and pollen, creating an almost timeless atmosphere.

Perhaps this was what Adeline meant. Adeline had confided in her that she felt an odd sense of security when escorted back to the Cecil Kingdom tent by Uzana.

It was as if, with Uzana at her side, she had nothing to fear. Gamaaloth might be known for its brutality, but Adeline's experience was quite the opposite.

"Uzana seems to have taken a liking to Adeline," Sophia remarked.

Ragnar remained silent, secretly relieved that they weren't both vying for the same woman's affection.

"It's difficult to tell with Uzana. He's kind and friendly to everyone. Even though he can be arrogant and irritating, he's genuinely nice. However, I've noticed that Uzana appears particularly interested in Adeline. His eyes seem to shine brighter every time he encounters her."

Why was Sophia continuously bringing up Uzana? Ragnar began to feel uneasy.

"Your other friends are pleasant too. They took turns guarding you and Qedren while you were undergoing treatment. However, Uzana seemed most unwilling to leave your side in our tent. Only after I assured him that you were past the critical stage did he agree to return to his tent to rest. It's endearing how close you two are."

Endearing, Ragnar repeated to himself. Was that a compliment? He knew so little about women and their thoughts, let alone their content.

What he was certain of, though, was that any woman meeting Uzana would likely fall for him. Uzana had his own charm, an ability to communicate and adapt his behavior before women. Maybe Sophia liked Uzana, even though Uzana didn't care for her.

Ragnar had trouble focusing on the rest of Sophia's words. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts. Women in Cescil were strikingly different from those in Gamaaloth.

In Gamaaloth, women obeyed their owners' every command. In contrast, Cescil's women had a voice and, more importantly, the freedom to choose their partners.

They even fought in wars.

"In Gamaaloth, women stay within their rooms, awaiting our return."

"Yes?" Sophia turned to Ragnar. "What did you say?"

"Could Cescil women be treated that way? Staying in their rooms all day, joyfully welcoming us home?"

Sophia smiled. "Being delighted to welcome their husbands, that they can do. But staying confined to their rooms all day and doing nothing? I doubt it."

"Even when all their needs are taken care of? Why would they leave their rooms when all their needs are attended to?"

"Is there a bird that would choose to stay in a cage even if all its needs were met, my lord? I think not," Sophia quipped with a smile.

Ragnar flinched, taken aback by Sophia's radiant beauty. He quickly averted his gaze, preventing himself from being ensnared.

To remain focused and minimize distraction, he periodically glanced away, observing their surroundings' vibrant activity—the lush foliage of the trees and the trailing vines.

He needed to stay grounded and avoid getting lost in his thoughts. Despite the initial attraction, he realized he needed to keep his distance from Sophia.

"May I ask a rather personal question, my lord?"

Ragnar didn't answer.

However, Sophia pressed on, regardless of his silence. "Is there a girl among my sisters that you fancy, my lord?"

Ragnar's silence deepened.

Sophia turned

  to him, her laughter gentle. "My apologies, my question was impolite. It's just that you're not as open as Uzana, who's quite expressive. Approaching someone you like must be difficult for you. If you find a girl among my sisters appealing, please let me know. I promise to help you get closer to her."

Ragnar's head spun as he tried to make sense of Sophia's words. The more she spoke, the more he struggled to follow her train of thought.

Her sentences swirled together in a chaotic tangle, resembling an abstract painting that held little coherence.

He found it hard to discern the direction of her speech or the point she was trying to make. Each utterance only added to the confusion and intensified his headache.

"My lord!" Sophia's voice, now a bit louder, broke through the haze in Ragnar's mind.

"We've arrived. Allow me to take the medicine basket." She gestured toward the wicker basket he held.

As the journey came to an end, Ragnar couldn't help but feel relieved by the cessation of Sophia's incessant chatter. His head was spinning, and he longed for a moment of peace to clear his thoughts.

Ragnar handed over the basket, grateful that their trip had concluded. He inhaled deeply, exhaling in one prolonged breath.

"It was pleasant conversing with you, Ragnar. Until tomorrow," Sophia grinned, expressing her enjoyment of their discussion and eagerly extending an invitation to chat once more the following day.

Oh no, is it going to be like this again tomorrow? What if he loses his sanity?

Ragnar tried to ignore the mounting discomfort in his head, offering a polite nod in response. Despite the ceaseless talking, he acknowledged Sophia's unique appeal.

Nonetheless, as he walked away and sought out a quiet corner of the camp, the throbbing in his skull intensified. He understood he couldn't rebuff Sophia entirely, yet the idea of another prolonged conversation made him feel as if his head might burst.

*