Eteima Mathu Naba Part 2 -

“I speak for Mathu Naba,” she said, her voice steady as stone.

It did not sink. It stretched across the surface like a bridge of thread and memory. Eteima Mathu Naba Part 2

The river roared. The sky turned the color of old blood. “I speak for Mathu Naba,” she said, her

Eteima did not tremble. She placed her brother's head on a bed of wild khar grass. “He is not dead,” she said. “Just sleeping your sleep.” “I speak for Mathu Naba

Eteima closed her eyes. Twenty summers ago, their mother lay on a pyre of sal leaves. Before the flames took her, she whispered to young Eteima: “Mathu Naba is not your brother. He is the son of the river. I stole him from Hagra Douth’s grove. And the spirit never forgets.”