The Wish of a Broken Heart

Almost Complete

Binākwé 2nd
Sól’elogía
07:00

~Cara~

I snuck out to the garden at 5:30 this morning in order to get to my babies. Mrs. Mills tried to join me, but she couldn’t get through. Faemála said to try the sanctuary in the barrier. Our combined magic seems to have created a loophole that allows her to see us and us to get to her.

I got sicker than snot going through. Fae told me not to do it again. I could die in my state. Looks like I won’t be seeing my babies for a while. My heart breaks at the thought. They could be crawling before I see them again!

Thanks to the time warping and healing of her realm, we have a few weeks before we have to be in Okihara. Not being able to stick to a schedule is driving me crazy. But, you know what they say:
If you want to make God (or any deity in this case) laugh, tell them your plans.

At this point, it feels like something is against us. I don’t know. Why can’t life be easier? I have to keep looking at the good things that have happened. I have to keep positive. I can’t let the negativity take residence in my life. I have to fight it. I mentally recite the good things that have happened.

‘Me and my loved ones are finding love and healing from past hurts. Our family is growing. We are saving people from bad situations. We aren’t the only ones from Earth. We are helping people go back to Earth. We have a limited way between worlds. Our littles are healthy and happy. There’s truth in every story. My babies… my babies are safe.’

“Inkássa Cara?” A voice catches my attention. I wipe the tears and plaster a smile on my face.

“Yes?” I turn to the gentle voice. It reminds me of someone with a Jersey accent.

“Are you alright?” A little olive green woman asks.

She’s short, with relatively large pointed ears, her arms are a little longer than a human’s would be, her nose is small, her eyes are big and brown, and her burnt orange hair is in twin bun ponytails. Her dress and leggings are cute. They look like they’ve been stitched from leaves. She looks less scary but not as “pretty” as goblins are portrayed as. She’s pretty, but not in a typical way.

“I’ll be fine. I just don’t like being away from my babies.”

“Oh, darlin’. Come here.” She pulls me to a bench and sits me down before hugging me. “I understand. The men take our boys after six months, and we don’t see them again until they’re five. My sons are four and three. We don’t live with our mates normally. It’s a real drag.” I hug her tighter. Not seeing our babies for four and a half years? I’d go crazy. “I’m Sötek, by the way. I’m a köböcin.”

“In my world, they call your race goblins. I like köböcin better.” We both giggle. “Why do you all live separately, and why take the boys?” I ask quietly. I probably sound like a little kid.

“Our tempers. Adults of our race are quick to temper. The boys are little demons during those years. The men teach them to control themselves and how to treat us gals with respect. I hate it, but it is necessary for the peace of our people.” Sötek lets out a resigned sigh.
“Then there’s the whole puberty starting when we hit 17, and our sẹxual desires spin out of control. It's easier to keep us separated so no one has to die for attacking someone else. No matter the gender, I’ll end anyone who attacks someone like that.” My jaw drops, and eyes widen at her admission. She giggles and shrugs.

“MAMA! IT’S TIME!” We hear Tira shout from the house.

“That’s my girl.” I giggle. “Come on. We have a lot of good things happening today.”