The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (Season 2+)

Maudra's Tribunal

Maudra Laesid sat huddled amongst the roots of the apeknot trees. She held her cane, made of the same wood, eyes closed and ears open. Her back was against the trunk of a tree and she sat in a little hollow of the gnarled, twisted, knotted roots. She sat, quietly listening to the sounds of the swamp. The insects and birds and the occasional splash of water from a jumping fish. Her dress was soggy from sitting on the moss, which absorbed the swamp water like a sponge, but she paid it no mind. With one hand on her cane, and the other rolling a small stone, she was completely at one with the Swamp of Sog and with Thra.

In her meditation, she felt it. It made her heart lighten, but it also sank considerably. The pull on her soul. The calling of Thra. Her age was no secret to anyone of her clan. Before all of this happened, she had been expecting Thra's call of passing to come soon. But she had forgotten, with the skekSis' betrayal and the formation of the gelfling resistance. She was prepared for the passing. She had utmost faith that Naia would make a superb maudra, and that Gurjin would be able to take his sister's place as head of the secret guardsmen. But now, it felt like an inconvenience. She still had so much more to do to ensure the safety of her clan. Thra would have to rip her from her body. She would not go silently. The feeling faded, but she wouldn't forget. Her timer was running out.

"Maudra Laesid," Naia called.

She opened her eyes and looked up to her daughter. So young. Strong, confident, and independent to a fault. The maudra had raised her daughter well to take her place. But there was still much she wished to teach her. Wounds she had picked up from her own mother she wished to mend. Yet something in her told her that she wouldn't get to teach her those lessons. Duty called.

"The others have arrived," she said.

Maudra Laesid stood with a groan, a look of concern showing through Naia's usual steely cold facade.

"Are you alright, my maudra?" she asked.

Laesid looked at her with a saddened expression. Even when alone, she called her by her formal title.

"Fine, Naia," she said. "Just fine."

She looked at her daughter, who looked back like a soldier waiting for orders. Not in the way a daughter should look at a mother.

"Naia?" she asked.

She didn't respond vocally, but she gave a curt nod to show she was listening. Waiting for the question.

"How old are you now?" she asked.

Naia's brow furrowed in confusion. Not like a daughter confused at her mother forgetting her age, which is what had happened, and Maudra Laesid felt shameful for it. No, Naia looked at her like a soldier confused as to why a Maudra was concerned about the age of one of her insignificant guards.

"How old are you, my child?" she asked, trying to come across as more motherly.

"I've seen twenty-eight winters now," she answered, still rigid.

"My you've grown," she smiled.

She stepped forward and laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder as she passed.

"I'm proud of who you've grown up to be," she said.

A quiver shot through Naia that Laesid could feel. She felt her daughter's shoulders slouch as all the tension in her body slowly disappeared. She stood in a more relieved pose. Her breathing became less methodical and Laesid felt all remaining tension disappear from her body. The maudra felt a flutter of motherly love dance in her heart. And just as soon as it came, her head started spinning out of control. She didn't know how to handle this feeling, and before she could think about what she was doing, her hand left her daughter's shoulder and she started towards the clearing.