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Rufus gathered them all, sat them around the fire, rubbed his hands together and cupped them in front of his face. "Once there were three children. They played in bliss on the slopes of the far-long mountains. Danced in the lush-green meadows. Their mother was Ilyoba Oluwa, the queen mother of a small village on the outskirts of a faroff land. A river ran by her shack, bringing fish to the village, where her three children played. Haldibari, Oba-Jin, and Idia Oluwa."
"Haldibari used to be a child?" Mashenka could feel herself being drawn in to the story.
"Well of course she was--" They could feel Rufus's impatience rising like heat piping through a stove. "Everyone used to be a child. Honestly, do they teach you anything where you come from? Or do you types stay children forever, is that how it works over there?"
"Unfortunately not." Kevin wiggled his nose as it itched at the possibility of never having a job or responsibilities. How nice would that be?
"Well then..." Rufus cleared his throat, continued the tale. "So-- The first child, Idia, loved to daydream. She had an imagination that stretched out to the heavens and far beyond. Idia would spend her mornings staring at the summer's dew, imagining how each droplet on the green leaves must've been a Piri forest spirit, with a life and a family of its own. She turned the leaves in her hands, and watched the forest spirits dance. At lunch, Idia would gather lazy-bugs, hoping they would talk to her. But they seldom did. Or if they did, their conversations generally ended up being about the dirt and the neighbor-worms, rather than concerning exotic treasures hidden deep underground. In the evenings, Idia spent her pocketful of waking hours watching stars. She would create stories in her mind of who those pinpricks of light had been once, and how they came to be."
"As for the second child, Oba-Jin was the picture of laziness. He had no desire to dream or explore. So, much like the Lurkers who live in the caves below, Oba would chase after Father Sleep, catching as many hours as he could. Always avoiding work, Oba-Jin would doze off at all hours. Or at least pretend to. And every time his mother found him resting, she would snatch him by the ear, drag him towards the dusting broom, and scold him for his naps. But even after she left Oba to clean the floors, he would set his head back against the windowsill. 'Just for a minute or two,' he always promised himself. But every time his eyes would lock shut. And he would fall fast asleep, forgetting the chores. Thankfully, Idia cared so deeply for her brother, that she would always look after his unfinished work. Leaving his mother to believe that he had learned his lesson. And rewarding them all with a supper of ice-cooled berries and buttered-bread, straight from the oven."
"Now the third child, Haldibari? She wan't always the Wish-Giver. No. She was a child once, just like you. But Haldibari was afflicted with the poison of jealousy. Ever since she discovered what 'things' were and how some people had 'things' and other people didn't have them, she had been envious. Always wanting, hoping, yearning. Haldi, as her mother fondly called her, was caught one summer, stealing fish from a neighbor's cottage. Ilyoba sternly lectured her daughter about the foolish nature of greed, and she punished Haldi severely, whipping her until she was sore. Even after that, Haldibari always hungered after what she could not have. Those 'things' the others gathered that she could never possess. But Haldibari never forgot the thrashing she received the first time she acted on her envy, and she always remembered that wishes, when fulfilled, must often be punished."

"And this family lived together. They were happy,.. for a time. But one year the South Wind breathed a poison breath. A plague swept the land. A plague most dreadful." Rufus stared, deep into his memories. Deep into the history of his world to pull out the threads of fate.
"Ilyoba's young were stricken with the illness, along with hundreds of others. Their mother, Ilyoba was deathly afraid of losing her children. She travelled down, past the deepest trenches of the earth. She visited Pal-Mar, the demon. She begged him for mercy. Begged him to spare the life of her three children. So he agreed, for a price. The price was her heart. Her soul would be Pal-Mar's forever, as soon as she died. She would never visit Varrant-land. Never witness the gleaming light of the Berylls. She would be doomed to work forever, tending the mines and shafts of Pal-Mar's deep-world."
"Hoping only to save her children, and accepting any consequence to herself. Ilyoba sold her soul, her being to the demon. In return, he crafted three ribbons. Each crimson. Of the blood of lost warriors, doomed to perdition. They were red as blood. 'Take these,' he hissed. 'With these, your childrens' lives will be spared."
"So up, up, up past the sulfur pipes, up the stairs, up through the darkest caverns. Across the far-long mountains. Across the meadows. She returned to her village. But she had arrived too late. Her children had perished." The storyteller hesitated.
"Go on." Mashenka pleaded.
Rufus's expression darkened at the thought of the tragic loss. "Ilyoba shook with a storm of grief. The mother stood over Haldibari, her youngest daughter. 'Oh Haldi, please forgive me. But I have sold what is most important to me, in order to save what is most precious. And even though your eyes are sleeping. And even though I cry tears at your passing. I would do anything to save my daughter. Even if it means my eternal suffering.'"
And with that, Ilyoba took the crimson sash, and placed it over her daughter's head. Whose spirit resided in Varrant-land, high above with the Berylls. Ilyoba placed the sashes over each of her children. And as the night star rose in the sky, her three children returned to life. She gasped. "Oh children, how I've missed you." But as their eyes opened, revealing no longer cloud-white pupils, but eyes scarred by brimstone and hate. Ilyoba realized she had made a terrible mistake. Their bodies were no longer the bearers of the souls of innocent children. But the bearers of demons.
"Haldibari cried out. 'Oh mother. Look what you've done to us. Our souls were happy above, we were at peace. But you have pulled us back into these shells of ours. These bodies. In your grief, you have ripped us from heaven. And twisted us. Torn us to pieces.'"
Rufus leaned forward. The others kept watch, enchanted by the tale. "Ilyoba took a step back, starkly fearful of the three creatures before her. 'Please children... Do not harm me. My only hope was to hold your still-warm hands once again. To see you playing on the slopes of the far-long mountains. In the meadows, on the lush-green grass. My only was desire was to give you life..." They advanced, shaking in anger. But Ilyoaba put her hands up, pleading. "Please. Although I have cursed you in my sorrow. Let me be at peace.'"
"Haldibari nodded. 'As you wish.' Oba Night took his right hand. He pressed it against Ilyoba's forehead. 'Sleep forever. Mother who loved us. Mother who cursed us. Sleep.' And Ilyoba fell into a deep, eternal sleep."
Kevin interrupted, "What about Oluwa?"
Rufus obliged. "Separated from her body, Idia Oluwa's spirit had spent time abroad, travelling with the Tribe of Dreams. In return for her wonderful stories, they had given her their gift. The gift of dreaming. So Oluwa pricked her finger. She took a single drop of her red blood and let it rest, gently on Ilyoba's tongue. That blood from Oluwa's finger set in motion a dream in Ilyoba's center. It was a dream where Ilyoba raised her children in peace, for all time."
"Oluwa spoke, 'She will be at peace, as she wished. Even after her body decays, her soul will dream.'"
"Oba Night continued, "As long she is dreaming, the demon can never claim his prize."

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