Record of Ashes War

Chapter 2 - Decision

"Breathe," whispered a voice. "Don't move. Don't think. Just breathe."

Everything was dark. Nothing made sense. Sar'tara only had the consciousness to think. She thought that she had died. Thought that she was just a drifting spirit hearing things.

"Breathe," the voice said again, like a morning dew drop gliding across the surface of a blossoming petal. A soothing melody, as was Ny'Danis' voice. "Breathe."

"Yes Mother," she replied.

"I did not tell you to speak! I told you to breathe!" The voice had suddenly turned somewhat annoying and slightly higher pitched. Sar'tara knew who it belonged to. "If you can speak, you'll be alright. It is because of Mother's blessing that you live. Had you been a normal human, you would have died before the sun rose. Your heart is beating better now, though far from normal. Your eyes don't look to have permanent damage. You should be able to see again by morning."

"My insides hurt, Sister Stel'Na. Breathing hurts."

"Don't speak! Just breathe. Blessed Ny'Danis, you are as reckless as you are brave. Your hunt, successful though it may have been, may have brought shame upon the Selharr Vashiri. The manner in which you returned was ill to say the least. Let alone the six missing arrows from your quiver. Two are stuck to the boar. You understand that providing our huntresses with more than a single arrow is a mere formality, yes? It is to hone the mind. It is there as a temptation to avoid. The Selharr always accomplish their hunts with a single arrow alone. You've brought back a prestigious prey, making you eligible to sit before the council. But these are all factors we will consider when the council decides on whether to send you to Mother Ny'Danis."

"I know," Sar'tara mumbled, feeling a clay lump in her throat. She didn't know the kresip recoil would be so potent. "I met a Kr—"

"I told you not to speak! Just focus on breathing!"

"But—"

"But nothing!" Stel'Na said. "Just because I asked you a question, it doesn't mean you must respond."

Sar'tara didn’t have the strength to be annoyed. Speaking to the eldest Selharri sister was often similar to conversing with a nymph. But being the eldest, Stel'Na also commanded the most respect. The only living Selharr to have become a Guardian. She had already served her tenure and had retired back to the village to teach the young instead of staying by the Forest Deity's side.

It had been years since any from the Selharr had become a Guardian. Sar'tara was one of their greatest hopes. Tears gathered behind her closed eyes. Her poor condition would rob her sisters of some of that hope. The Kreiva with their brute strength made up the vast majority of Guardians. The Mäkhain with their mastery of the spear, always had at least a few representatives.

"You are twenty-two by the lunar years, Sar'tara. Surely you are not weaker than when you felled a bear at fourteen. You cannot pass the Guardian Trials by being reckless. Nor can Guardians protect the forest in that manner. Though, there hasn't been a large invasion since before my tenure. Regardless, petty thieves seeking to steal Mother's Artifacts come often and can be quite crafty. Remember, the essence of a hunter is patience. We will further speak on the matter at a later time." Stel'Na left her alone, having completed the treatment.

Mina, one of the younger sisters, came to see her every once in a while to feed her a hot and bitter liquid. Sar'tara longed to eat something solid. She wanted to eat the boar she'd killed. But boars smelled and needed a lot of time under the fire to be palatable. She imagined the luscious taste of dripping fat inside a boar belly roasted with wild garlic shoots to keep her thoughts away from her failures. It also kept her up all night, the unfading bitter aftertaste of the medicinal liquid mingling with her unrelenting salivation.

Sar'tara began to catch glimpses of her surroundings as day replaced night. The edges of her vision remaining slightly blurred. She pulled herself out from beneath a layer of fur blankets. Her entire innards screamed at her. She tried standing but fell to her knees, swallowing air in gulps. She stared at the cool dirt floor while on all fours until the pain began to ease. Droplets fell from her eyes. They'll never let me see Mother like this.

Her left arm stung as if it had been bit by angered ants. Some manner of salve had been applied to the black and blue section where the Kreivan woman had struck her. Memories of a dark callused fist looming over her face made Sar'tara shudder. Kreiva Vashiri were known to shatter the bones of their prey with their fists alone. Whilst the Selharr and Mäkhain Vashiri practiced the arts of stealth hunting, the Kreiva mastered the art of provoking their prey.

Sar'tara dragged herself out of the hut, slowly getting used to the immense pain. She was greeted by the sight of her excited younger sisters. A successful hunt was a cause for celebration. But she'd been incapacitated for nearly a full day, delaying any festivities. She spotted Stel'Na a short ways off, teaching little Tavi, a girl of eight and the youngest Selharr, how to appropriately hold a bow. Stel'Na's dark hair had strands of silver in it, giving her aged face a mature beauty.

The eldest glanced at Sar'tara. It was difficult tell if her eyes carried disappointment or praise. On one hand, Sar'tara shouldn't have been walking around in such a damaged state. On the other hand, she was walking around in such a damaged state. Come evening, the fourteen eldest sisters of the Selharr tribe would decide whether she was worthy enough to meet the Forest Mother.

Sar'tara kept up a steady breathing rhythm whilst walking through the village. She slowly increased her pace, bare feet pattering on dry earth, getting more and more comfortable as the pain within began to subside. Despairing thoughts threatened to consume her, forcing her to the brink of tears many a time as she walked in silent solitude. She pushed aside each devouring attempt, trying to show her elder sisters that she was fit and not incapacitated.

Sar'tara hadn't seen her Mother in over fifteen years. Some of her older sisters had gone on longer as their hunts did not prove fruitful. She could see the dimming light within their eyes as they slowly realized that their prime had passed and that they may never get to see their Mother again. Sar'tara didn't want that. Her heart ached when even considering the possibility of forgoing seeing Ny'Danis forever.

Small everflowers had grown where drops of Sar'tara's blood had fallen the day before. Stalky green stems no higher than her shins, all of them with their petals closed. Night bloomers that glowed after dusk among which were kresips, shade-wisps, tornas and sitrils. Spilt blood of the Forest Deity gave rise to beautiful new life. Life that never withered unless intentionally uprooted or killed. A memory of Ny'Danis' beauty and glory to serve as a constant reminder —and create an everlasting longing for her daughters.

Ny'Danis' grove was in the center of the Papillion Forest a mere half day's jog away from the three Vashiri tribes around it. But only Guardians and Guardian candidates were allowed entry. Sar'tara examined the closed everflowers from above. Just a little more. A little more and I'll glow come nightfall too. Daughters of the Forest Deity had strong recovery abilities. The bruising in her arm had subsided significantly. She could only hope that it would be enough.

Sar'tara glanced up as another's shadow reached her toes. Freya, one of the members of the Selharr council, approached with a wooden bowl in hand, steam rising from within. She wore an easy smile as she handed the bowl to Sar'tara, who winced when catching the smell of the bitter medicine soup. She took a large sip, swirling the liquid around in her mouth while examining the taste. "Hmm. Silkweed, devil's claw, a hint of garlic and…"

Sar'tara nearly vomited but held it in as she met Freya's eyes. She needed to make a positive impression on one of the council members. Sar'tara looked into her wooden bowl, scowling. There were small solid items inside greyish liquid. Hardly noticeable. She dipped a finger and picked one out. "And cricket legs," she finished. Freya nodded her approval. Sar'tara pinched her nose and gulped the liquid down in one go, fearing that she would vomit if she dwelled on the matter for too long.

Freya maintained her easy smile, holding out a hand to retrieve the empty bowl. "You have a strong nose and tongue if you can deduce ingredients that easily. I'd say you were half animal if you weren't so beautiful, Tara."

Sar'tara stuck her tongue out and shivered in a futile attempt to rid herself of the aftertaste. "The title of most beautiful belongs to you, Sister Freya," she replied truthfully, though with ulterior motives.

The older woman smiled, her dimples showing clearly. She pushed her freely flowing dark hair over one shoulder. "I'll be forty in a few short years. This skin of mine will start to bear marks." She tilted her head and studied Sar'tara. "I'm envious of your sharp nose. The hallmark of a leader, or so it has been said. Sister Stel'Na and Kiali are the only other Selharr with a sharp nose."

Sar'tara blushed. "I'm not worthy of such compliments."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. The younger ones look up to you. Take Mina for example. She turns fourteen soon. Her first hunt, her coming of age ceremony, is in seven days. She's been doing nothing but proclaiming that she'll hunt a bear just as you did at that age. Well, she has been a little quiet since you've returned." Freya flashed a wink. There was a slight twinkle in her earthly oak eyes. She turned to leave. "Rest well, Tara. The boar will add nicely to our dried food stores, and will be a nice change of pace from the deer or beavers your sisters normally hunt. I will pray to Mother for your good fortune in tonight's decision."

Sar'tara couldn't help but continue wearing a smile. Freya had managed to calm her, which Sar'tara half suspected was the intent all along. At least one person was on her side.

***

Fires in the sky signalled the day's end. The sun sank behind the horizon, its last light being held by scattered clouds. Given the lunar cycles, Sar'tara expected three half-moons to shine in the sky. Illusterra's three moons, Vega, Elaina and Leona. Each with their own cycle length. Elaina's was thirty days —the most commonly used moon to measure time. Vega's cycle was fifteen whilst Leona, the largest, only showed her full self once every year.

Sar'tara massaged her damaged forearm while tapping an impatient foot against the ground. Her eyes scanned the faces of the council members, jumping from head to head, trying to glean any amount of information. It was time for her decision to be made. A ritualistic moment for the Vashiri peoples. She was dressed in her most boastful clothing. All huntresses were expected to wear their trophies on decision night.

Around her shoulders hung a heavy cloak made from bear fur. The top half of the animal's skull rested on her head, its massive fangs running down the sides of her temples. Her dark hair had been split evenly and hung over the fronts of both shoulders. The necklace she wore placed a heavy weight against her collar bones. They held the bottom two fangs of a bear and two recently added boar tusks. Bracelets of wolf fangs decorated her upper arms, adding to her dauntless charm. The remainder of her clothes remained the same.

Sar'tara stood tall, shoulders thrown back, chest puffed out. Her body was far from in an ideal condition, but she had recovered enough to at least draw back a bow. She clenched her fists. The decision will go in my favor. It has to!

A high pitched horn sounded. The Selharr formed two lines, adults on one side and children on the other. At the end of the line was a campfire around which the eldest fourteen sisters sat. Stel'Na motioned for Sar'tara to approach. She walked between the two lines with her head held high. She could see the expressions of amazement as all her other sisters saw her in her full glory. Saw all of her trophies. It was the most a single woman had ever worn in the history of the Selharr. Sar'tara sat down before the council, wearing a proud smile, setting an example for her younger siblings.

"Name yourself, daughter of the forest," Stel'Na said.

"Sar'tara Vashiri, daughter of Ny'Danis, huntress of the Selharr," she said, back straight and voice clear.

"Huntress Sar'tara. Yesterday, you returned after a successful hunt. You slew an adult male boar. A Tricora Boar. Its weight more than three times your own. A feat worthy enough to allow you to sit before this council. I congratulate you for this."

"Thank you, Sister Stel'Na."

"You make us proud, Sar'tara, for returning in a timely manner despite your condition," another woman said. Kiali, the tallest of the Selharr and four years Sar'tara's elder —also the youngest on the council. A woman who strictly hunted wolves due to her hatred of the creatures. Her smooth black hair was always bound close to her head, creating a silken tail that reached her waist. She had two bone tooth necklaces and a single bracelet with small fangs. Everyone knew her to be worthy of meeting the Forest Mother. But wolves hunted in packs and were known to be elusive at times, causing Kiali to fail her hunts often.

"But…" Kiali continued. Sar'tara's heart sank as soon as Kiali said that word. "That does not change the fact that you returned yesterday. This meeting has been delayed by a full day."

Sar'tara closed her eyes to hide the panic within them. It was a valid point that she couldn't argue against. She nodded, maintaining her outward calm.

"But she was walking around easily this morning despite being damaged by the effects of kresips," Stel'Na noted.

"I'm afraid I cannot take that as a positive sign, eldest sister," Kiali replied. "The only other person reckless enough to have consumed raw kresip was you, back when you were near our age. This was before the vast majority of us were born even. You've warned us of its effects, and thus we obeyed. But the rest of us do not know the extent of damage it causes and thus cannot make a sound judgement on the matter."

The other members nodded, agreeing with Kiali's wisdom.

Sar'tara felt her chances lower. She couldn't hate Kiali for being sound. Though she clenched her teeth regardless.

"If we are to be judges, we ought to have knowledge of all matters," Freya said. She was the second oldest. Freya had a weak frame by Vashiri standards and was the sole person to never desire the seat of a Guardian. Her general knowledge of the forest's flora and care for the others in the village had earned her nearly as much respect as the eldest. She was the Selharr's moral support and a replacement Mother to many younger than her.

Sar'tara stole a glance towards Freya. Their eyes met and Sar'tara looked away almost instantly. There had been a time when she was a child and she would lay her head in a younger Freya's lap, who at the time was a near spitting image of Ny'Danis' beauty. But it wasn't fair to silently ask for Freya's help. The council was to be impartial. But still. Sar'tara stole another glance.

"Since Sister Stel'Na knows the recoil of kresip flowers, it is only fair that her vote be worth two of ours," Freya said. Everyone nodded in agreement. "But Sar'tara, I must ask, what made you desperate enough to have made such a gambit. Surely a mere boar was not the cause of this?"

Sar'tara sighed, feigning regret whilst thinking of the best way to respond. "It was a lack of judgement, Sister Freya," she said. "Much of my attention had been focused on old tracks of large animals. Time slipped my mind. I'd forgotten to tend to my own body. On the final night, I had resigned to failure and settled for eating a hare I'd found. But a naiad requested it from me. And so I starved," Sar'tara finished. She looked over the council members. Most frowned, but leaned in as if curious for more.

"You listened to a nymph?" Freya asked. "Kindness is a good virtue, but foolishness is not. Had you a reason to entertain the naiad's whims?"

"Yes. I declined it at first. But it offered me a bargain. The hare for the location of the boar. I couldn't deny the offer." The council began muttering amongst themselves. Sar'tara's spirit rose. She had successfully deflected attention away from her failure and to the strangeness of a nymph's bargain instead.

"Receiving free aid from another daughter during a hunt is strictly forbidden," Stel'Na said. "But for a trade… This is the first I'm hearing of a bargain ever having been made with a nymph," Stel'Na said. "Dryads and naiads alike normally approach us Vashiri for trivial conversation, pranks, or to ask us for objects they take interest in."

Sar'tara frowned. "Surely someone else has been asked before, even if it was trivial."

Stel'Na looked around. Everyone shook their heads. "A question for the Forest Mother for when we next meet her then."

Hopefully that's soon. Sar'tara omitted the fact that the naiad had helped bring the boar across the river. She couldn't have done it alone. Her chest was heavy with guilt. I did give her the fur pelt… She tried convincing herself that it was just another trade, though deep down, she did not believe it. Her hands fidgeted. She wondered if honesty was the best path. Her lips parted to speak but Stel'Na spoke first.

"Now, for the final point. Ten arrows you were given. Four you returned with in your quiver. Two were stuck in the boar and four are missing. What is the reason for this?"

Sar'tara swallowed. "I had competition," she said quickly, her calm demeanor slipping away. "One of the Kreiva was trying to hunt the same boar. I was forced to immobilize her." It came out as an excuse rather than an argument. She shifted, straightening her back and trying to regain her composure.

"Could you not have taken the kill from the shadows?" asked Kiali.

"I… Yes. I could have," Sar'tara admitted. She racked her brain for the appropriate words. But anything she thought of would expose her for having been either afraid or foolish.

More mutters as the possible reason for not taking the kill was discussed.

"All of us here have met a Kreivan at least once," Freya began. "They are huge. And their fists harder than stone. Sar'tara here fought one of them while hunting a Tricora Boar and managed to come out on top. And it was not with evasion and dexterity alone. Sar'tara showed superior endurance as well, as made evident by the fracture of her left arm. I imagine some of you have seen a Kreivan woman break boulders with their fists. Our sister's bravery should be taken into account."

"Very well. Do you have anything else to add, Sar'tara?" Stel'Na asked, maintaining a level tone.

"No," Sar'tara finished, grateful for Freya's defense. She rested her hands on her knees and squeezed. Please be enough!

"Then let us decide. All in favor of having our sister represent us before our Mother, Ny'Danis?"

Seven hands went up.

"And those against?" Stel'Na asked.

Six this time. Stel'Na was the last remaining. Her hand was worth two this time around. The council was of even numbers. But rarely was there an even split vote. If there was, then the huntress in question was called to do a final task to prove herself.

Stel'Na sighed. "I'm sorry, Sar'tara," she said. "I cannot consciously allow you to meet our Mother tomorrow. Had you not made so many errors, then I would have been forced to acknowledge you. I still do acknowledge you. But it is not your time yet. You are in no condition to take our Mother's Trials. They begin shortly after you arrive before her. I know the effects of the kresip flower and know that it will take a minimum of nine days for you to recover completely. You may feel much better than this morning, but with the extent of damage to your insides, the Trials will claim your life. Failing is certain death."

"The Selharr haven't been able to send many Guardian candidates in the last few decades," Stel'Na continued. "Those that did go never returned. You will need to be at your best before Mother Ny'Danis. I do not wish for you to die during the Trials due to a mistake on our part. You will have another chance in a few months. Prove yourself to us once more. We all believe in you. You are, after all, the pride and hope of the Selharr. I vote against."

Sar'tara's heart sank. She nodded, blinking furiously as tears formed. Her lips trembled. She was handed a bow and an arrow with the bone tip coated in various tree oils. She quickly stood, hoping the bear's skull cast great enough a shadow to veil the lucid emotion held in her eyes. She lit the tip aflame and aimed at a massive stack of wood in the center of the village. Regardless of the decision, a celebration was still in order.

Sar'tara let loose her fingers. A soft twang was followed by the roar of a bonfire come to life, signaling the beginning of the night's festivities. The other sisters cried out in joy as they hurried to prepare drinks. The boar, completely skinned, was brought out, red lines of muscle tissue coated over by white slabs of fat peppered with herbs. The insides were stuffed with garlic shoots. A separate fire had been made for it to roast on a spit. The boar's guts were to be prepared in a stew, aside from the liver.

Mina brought out the liver on a wooden board and presented it to Sar'tara and the council. As was custom, it was cut into fifteen even parts and consumed raw. All of them hated it. They all cringed as they put it into their mouths. Some managed façades of straight faces. It was a custom supposedly from the beginning of time itself and so no one questioned it.

Sar'tara made her way to the bonfire, searching for a drink to wash out the foul taste in her mouth. All fourteen members of the council followed after her, though in a disorderly manner. None of them wanted to make it seem like they hated the custom. None of them wanted to earn another's ire, remaining oblivious to each other's solidarity in the matter.

Over a hundred wooden bowls full of amber liquid had been set aside on a carved stone bench. A drink made from various edible wild berries, maple syrup, water, just the right amount of poisonous mushrooms, and fermented wild beans. Sar'tara downed three bowls in the span of seconds, making sure not to spill a single drop. The taste was sweet and also tart. It burned her throat and lit a fire within. She squeezed shut her eyes, letting the drink slowly numb her emotions.

"Careful now. You are not fit to be drinking excessively this night," Stel'Na said as she sipped from a bowl of her own.

Sar'tara shrugged and continued to drink. This was a drink she'd first tried at the age of ten. She'd grown accustomed to its mind muddling effects. She listened to the singing of her sisters from the sides while clapping along, trying to spark joy within herself.

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, the beautiful forest Goddess!

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, her beauty she does harness!

Melodious is her voice, seductive are her songs!

The trees bow to her, the flowers sing along!

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, the Selharr Vashiri Goddess!

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, a white star in the darkness!

Chronary and deceit! She renders them obsolete!

Nature's arbiter, a magnificent deity!

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, the Mother of the Forest!

Ny'Danis, Ny'Danis, our Mother most beloved!

Freya helped to cut the meat of the boar once it was ready and distribute it amongst the tribe. Sar'tara wolfed her portions, hardly chewing at all and drinking to force down the meat. Stel'Na still stood beside her, distant eyes hovering above the bonfire. "Are you disappointed in me?" Sar'tara asked.

"No. Of course not. Well, not anymore I suppose," Stel'Na said, giving a slight smirk. "The Kreiva… They are too prideful. I fear for what they may decide to do about having a kill taken from them."

"What can they do?" Sar'tara asked, frowning. She downed another bowl of liquid. "The kill was rightfully mine," she declared, words beginning to slur.

"They cannot see the greater purpose in protecting the forest," Stel'Na said. "Their Guardians are known to never retire."

"So what?" Odd colors danced between the trees. Stel'Na's voice echoed in Sar'tara's mind but she was having trouble making sense of them.

"They haven't seen the outside. Know nothing of its dangers. The greed of a man can carry him to heinous lengths."

Sar'tara heard the words, but they never fully registered. The world bent in strange ways as she shuffled towards the roaring flames. Kiali took her hands and spun her around, laughing while doing so. A smile spread on Sar'tara's lips as all her previous thoughts sank beneath the effects of the powerful drink.