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29 - Beilla

29

Beilla

Straightening himself as much as his sagging left side would let him, Deilune answered. "The story of Feodeim Breima is really the story of the Tireima, the three magic gemstones: the Astreima, Fareima and Kareima. The Lifestones of Lebreima

"As I told you, the Astreima, the Starstone, was stolen and hidden by Raven. When Feodeim’s life was revived by the Kareima, the Heartstone, and he emerged with Hawk from the underworld, Raven fled to the Farland forests. The legend tells that Raven, in its panic, collided with a mighty tree and forever lost his memory of where he’d hidden the light-giving Astreima. Raven became an addle-brained creature forever boasting that he would rule the world again…when he remembered how.

"In the Astreima's absence, the Fareima, placed in Hawk's towering aerie became the light of day for all Lebreima. Hawk gave a small piece of the Fareima to Feodeim to light household fires when night fell. Feodeim entrusted it to his wife who shared the secrets of the hearth for warmth, light, protection and cooking"

"How traditional," interrupted Linda.

"Now, dear, I'm just telling the story,” Deilune protested. “I'm not trying to justify thousands of years of gender stereotypes.”

Lottica wondered how her parents found it so easy to forget they were zombies and engage in social commentary.

"At any rate," Deilune continued, "over the years, the Fareima became a more visible symbol because the gem was set in a pendant traditionally worn by the bride of Le Breima. Because of this, the Fareima became more widely known than the Kareima, which faded as a mysterious artifact of legend.

"Now, fast forward to more modern times. Politically speaking, Lebreima has struggled on and off as an independent nation, as a conquered land, finding itself a semi-autonomous region with little political or economic clout. To the rest of the world we're pretty small potatoes."

Grandmother Breima's sharp features grew indignant. "No, Deilune, Lebreima much more. Someday, you understand," she challenged her son.

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"I'm sorry, Mother. I don’t mean to offend. Besides,” he motioned to Linda and then himself, "something decidedly not small potatoes is going on here. As I was saying, the Fareima, along with the Kareima, have been in the Breima family for as long as there has been a Breima. The Fareima has always been passed to the wife of the Breima who has always been a Lebreiman.”

Deilune nodded apologetically at Linda, "That’s why my marriage to you has been so difficult for my parents. I am the heir to the Kareima, but the Fareima cannot go to a non-Lebreiman. Our marriage has caused some power stuggles in Lebreima. In my absence, someone claimed the Fareima."

Grandfather Breima spit out the name. "Beilla!”

"How could that happen?" Linda asked.

Deilune sighed. "Ambition. Politics. Greed. When I came to America, I did something never done before by a Breima. I left Lebreima. I was told that I was tainted, that I could never become Le Breima. Which, at the time, didn’t faze me. But, when news of my marriage to an American circulated, my father's cousin, Beilla, complained loudly that our national treasures, the Kareima and the Fareima would be taken abroad. He called us traitors and rallied support to take control of the gemstones from our family. He eventually acquired control of the Fareima.”

"But not Kareima.” Grandfather Breima smiled. “We bring here. It belong for Deilune."

"And that’s when I hid the Kareima under the statue of Hawk on our stairwell for safekeeping," Deilune explained. "To me it was a national treasure…not a magical relic.”

“So, you think that’s why Beilla was after us?" Nick asked.

"Is good question, Nick," Grandfather Breima began. "He my cousin. We play as children. Beilla think he crafty like Raven. He like power. He believe in the old tales. Is why he wear cape. Is why he wear Fareima. Is why," Grandfather Breima made make eye contact with Deilune, "I think he kill you and Linda."

“What!” Deilune’s bad eye wobbled precariously in its socket.

Nick realized that his parents did not know the whole story of their demise. He chose his words carefully. “Dad, you and mom died in an explosion at the house. The whole house burned and you were both pronounced dead at the scene. The coroner reported that you both died of blunt trauma caused by the explosion. After investigating, the fire department blamed it on a leaking natural gas line in the garage. A bad valve. It was ruled an accident.”

Grandfather Breima stood, his hands tight on the back of his chair. “No accident! Must be Beilla. He get Fareima by trickery. He want Kareima by treachery!”

"But why?" asked Linda, stunned. "Why kill us? Why threaten the children? Is it just greed? What does he hope to gain with these gemstones?"

If the answer to Linda's question surprised those gathered round the table, it did not half surprise them as much as who yelled the answer.

"The Astreima!"

And near midnight on a most peculiar day of the undead, twelve-year-old Lottica Breima was dead right.