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Flamoya's Martyr
This is the opening of a novel I'm working on. Right now I'm just wondering if everything makes sense. I have a habit of going on and assuming the reader understands everything. I'd appreciate any comments.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngShonasha Shonojo. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngGift. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI had been taught since birth that the single most important director of my fate was my name. Flamoya, our weaving goddess, took the strings of our fate and tied them with that of the name given to us. It was sacred, one of a kind. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngBut I knew better than that. The mystics might have traveled to the scene of my birth and graced me with the name that would lead my future, but I believe I have always been apart from that. My fate was decided for me long before I was even thought of. The thing that shaped me, were the people who bore me. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMy father was a Shieto, flesh-eater, it was written in his blood that he and all others of his race would eat of the flesh of man, they were cannibals. Flamoya hated them so that she forced them to feed upon their own race and the men were pressed to eat their wives, the women partook of their sons. It was race that twisted upon itself until a horrible chain had formed and the wife or husband would die depending on the gender of their child, depending on whose flesh the child would yearn for. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngFate had destroyed my father. His first wife bore him a daughter. Such a thing would have meant his sacrifice had his wife not died in giving birth. My father was left to feed a child that yearned in her early years for his blood but was forced to forget her hunger. The girl was my half-sister. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI did not arrive until my father had to make another sacrifice. Warriors of his land returned from a long journey by which they had crossed the northern sea and found a new people, a single race that differed greatly from our land of many races and beings. It was the country of the Elreen. They were forest dwellers of a natural beauty that surpassed all else. I remember my father once told me that in her own country my mother could sing the flowers into bloom and will fruit to spring from the branches of trees. Here it was something different. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe warriors had brought my mother in as a captive to gift to the lord, my father. He fell deeply in love with her, so much so that he left his duties behind him as he saw only her that cared for my sister like her own. The Tsinigani family saw this, and struck my father from his place. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngBut my father was humble. The years had been hard on him but he had received incredible gifts for his patience. He accepted his fate and built a house for his family to live in. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngNot many months later, in the winter months I was born into this world. I was a half-breed of two despised races. Shieto, the most vile creatures for their incredible hunger of flesh, and Elreen, the envied beauties from across the seas to the north. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe god’s ways will always be a mystery. I sometimes wonder if their timing was anything more than a way to mock my sinning parents. I arrived to them late in the winter, an ill time for any babe to be born. Not simply because the weather can be so foul to the young one, but because it was also nearly impossible in such conditions to call on any worker of the gods. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIlian. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngWeaver. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngWithout one of Flamoya’s chosen to do the naming of the child, that child would be nothing more than a soulless being that would wander without purpose forever. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI can only imagine how my father must have looked praying, pleading on his knees in the middle of that flurry-ridden blizzard. I only know that at last, when it was almost too late, my father saw the form of the Ilian fighting through the wind. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAt once, my mother told me, her pain had ceased and I was born as simply as that, her first and only child. The Ilian took me in his arms and I didn’t make a sound as he traced the living symbol on my head and blessed me with the name Shonasha. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngGift. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMy childhood, as with many, is far behind me. I know most clearly that I was happy, as any naive child will be. Despite the conditions of my birth I was still brought up as any of the children in my village were. We were encouraged always to roam free. Any child that stayed in his home all day was either sick or was causing no end of trouble for his busy parents. Our only restrictions were to stay out of the gardens of our neighbors, to return before dark, and above all show respect to any Tsinigani we were to come upon.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngChildren will be children of course but it can be said that no child ever forgot that last rule. The Tsinigani were our providers and in the same way that they gave us what we had, they could take it away too. I never forgot the time I had first seen the Tsinigani with my own eyes. We had been playing in the woods when their hounds burst through the trees chasing a pair of dashing foxes. Then before we could hope to move the family thundered through on their horses, huge to us in our young age. We ducked and bobbed away, but not all of us were fortunate enough to get out of the way unscathed. A boy a few years my senior had been clipped on the head by one of the leaping horses. We dragged him unconscious back to his mother who healed him as best she could. When he has recovered enough to leave his bed, the right side of his body was completely unmovable. He hobbled on one leg, with a sturdy branch tied to his hanging arm to steady his movement. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAfter that he was far to slow to keep up and being the fickle children that we were we left him behind. I replaced the look of his slackened face and the hanging lips, with the face of one of the Tsinigani that I had seen riding the day of the accident. It was in that impassive face, caught in the moment and overflowing with the passion of the hunt that I saw true power. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThough we were shocked and frightened by the death that took place before us. We were children then, we lived and learned how to not to let the next be us. And his was still the face of power, I simply knew then that it commanded much more power than I had thought possible. It also required respect, the need for it was written in the string lines of his jaw and the hard brow that knitted as he watched the event take place. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHis became the face of the Tsinigani for me and became an encourage in myself to do my best to keep out of trouble and obey the laws that the family set out for us. They knew what was best. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAnd so I listened to my sister when she called me home from my escapades and honored my mother and father beyond all else but the Tsinigani family. When it came time that my father allowed it, I took up helping him work in the fields and watched the sheep graze or picked vegetables during the harvest. All the things I was supposed to do to show my appreciation for the family that kept us safe from the outside world of terror and raiders. If I happened to wander of to spy on the workings of the family, which I did often in those days, then it was really no harm done. I was not really old enough to do anything of use. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe Tsinigani ran a homestead whose house was bigger than the fields that we harvested from and had it's own fields vaster than the land that all of the village encompassed by itself. The number of people that lived at the place impressed me far greater than anything else. What seemed like nations of people lived there and all for the sole purpose of caring for that family. And yet none seemed to belong there. Their races were many of which I had never seen in my little forest village, clumped into the trees. I watched them at their work, saw the men and women work their different jobs, and noted the colored uniforms they wore in each area that they worked. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI saw it all and felt my respect grow. Our rulers must have been something incredible to achieve such deeds in their names. How then was I to be prepared for the true nature of my caretakers? http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIt was spring then, and I had just marked the passing of my sixteenth year. Though I appeared near grown I was still very young in the wake of the timeless ages of my people, just as the lambs that I were watching over were young and the crisp green blades that they fed on were. As was my way since I was a child, I was not as attentive to the ewes’ fold as I should have been. They meandered merely on knobbed legs, and if they happened to wander far, I let them go. The forests had been cleared of predators long before spring had begun, with the old beasts run into the outskirts of the trees to keep the predators satisfied. What was I to worry of? http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIt was late afternoon in the coming heat of the day that I heard the trumpets of the Tsinigani hunt called. It woke me immediately from the doze that had settled over me in the peace. In search of some excitement to brighten my day, I set off at once for where the horns were blowing, not minding the fact that my lambs were quite scattered across the hillside. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI found the path through the trees that they commonly took and watched for the coming horses as the ground shook for their coming. The trumpet blared again, filling my ears with it’s resonance as both it and the riders came crashing through the brush. It was as the riders became visible and saw the Tsinigani man that I had captured in my mind the many years before, that I heard the bleating of one of my stray lambs as his white pelt dashed past me for the path of the coming riders. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI panicked as I finally remembered my responsibility. The lamb would surely be trampled by the coming horses and of course the beast was not my family’s alone. If the dumb animal were to die then that would be one sheep less for my family from the village stocks. I did the only reckless thing I could think of and dashed out in front of the coming hooves and wrestled the creature to the ground, all the time wondering in the back of my mine if I was going to end up like that poor boy who got trampled all those years ago and had been forgotten quickly by all of us children. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIn the coming dust I braced myself for what, I didn’t know. What does a child who has never experienced pain expect it to be? I merely hoped in my mind that the coming horses would see me as a fallen log and pass over me as just another obstacle. I believe one of them may have, but not all because as dust swirled around me and the frightened lamb I heard the horses cry and near felt the scramble of hooves as a horse reared up beside me and toppled backwards in an attempt to avoid me altogether. There were several other horse cries that followed and fouling curses from their riders. When the dust finally cleared I saw men dismounting and running to the rider who had been thrown in the end. Who could it have been than the one that I had admired the most, the stern face that had trampled a boy in the midst of a hunt and never looked back. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI tried to make myself invisible, to blend into the dusted path that I was crouched over, but the lamb cried out beneath me as I held it tight enough to hurt, wishing I was in some other place. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Lord are you alright? You’re bleeding!” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“I’m fine, it’s a scratch.” The voice was smooth and edged, like steel. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngBoot-steps, solid and measured on the dirt path. They slowly became louder until I saw them stop out of the corner of my eye. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“What’s the meaning of running in our way like that you little insect?” The voice addressed me with a swift kick to my ribs. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI forced closed my eyes as I tried to hold back tears, at the same time I tried to force my mouth around the words, “I’m sorry…I…” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Thanks to your idiocy you beast my horse is no better than dead!” He shouted now, marking his words with several more kicks. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“I d-d-didn’t mean for…” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“What are you going to do about it worm? That horse was a gift from the Grand Duchess herself and was transported across sea and land for me! How will you replace him?” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“I ca-can’t…” I stuttered out as the young lord grabbed my collar and fixed me with his red gaze. The lamb gave a frustrated bleat before wriggling itself free and leaping away to an imagined safety. It gave a frightened cry as the lord snatched it up by it’s thin coat to hoist above his head. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Thomon," The young lord said with a look over his shoulder as he drew a knife from his pocket, "Send word back to manor that we'll be having lamb for dinner," http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe keen edge was pressed against the little creatures neck before I managed to blurt out, "Please my lord, what will my family eat?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHis red eyes looked down on me disdainfully. A slim smile slid across his lips before he replied with a small laugh, "You're a Shieto are you not? Eat your mother for all I care." With that he slit the lambs throat and through the beast over his shoulder. Without a single glance back he turned on his heel and handed the lamb to a man who had forfeited his horse for him. They had soon trotted off back the way they had come, all save the fallen horse who was dragged back by the reins through the dust, one twisted hind leg dragging a path through the dirt behind him. Another one I hadn't noticed followed shortly behind it, his rider turned in the saddle to peer back at me. Red eyes shone beneath the darkness of his cloak. Without a seconds hesitation I scrambled to my feet and ran. |
Conversation writing is boring.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThough the experience had shaken quite a bit, it was also the first time my heritage had ever been mentioned to me, and I could not help but hold some curiosity by what the lordling had meant. Until then I had merely thought myself the half-breed of my mother's foreign race and one of the multitude of local minor demons. His remarks made me wonder. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI turned to whom I could for answer, or, whom I thought I could get answers from without having to reveal what had happened to my missing lamb. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAs our flocks mingles on the hillsides I tried to get what I could out of the other boys. Ramal was the easiest to tempt information out of. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"So I heard a couple of Tsinigani workers talking to each other in the fields yesterday. It seemed rather hush-hush." I said nonchalantly from my perch next to the younger boy on one of the large boulders that crested the area. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Oh really?" Ramal replied back, a crinkle at his lips and a sideways glance of his eyes contrasted his uncaring reply and he gave up and turned around with a laugh, "So are you going to tell me, or are you just going to wave it around a little more like cheese for a rat." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI smiled inwardly before leaning back on the rock and looking off to the edge of the hills, "I just thought you might want to know that I heard something you didn't" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHe nudged me playfully with his foot before insisting, "Go on now then, spit it out!" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Oh very well then," I said, and sat up to look at him seriously, "Now I didn't hear what it was all about but I heard the word Shieto? Any idea what it means?" I asked, hoping inwardly that he would know something. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHe sat back on his hills for a moment as he tapped a finger against his chin, "I know I've heard it before. It's right there at the tip of my mind." He turned suddenly towards me, "You sure there wasn't anything else you heard?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Something about eating mothers " I replied hesitantly. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"That's it!" Ramal exclaimed with a snap of his fingers, "Boy Sho, didn't your mother ever threaten you with the Shieto?" My blank look was enough to keep him talking, "Apparently they're this whole demon race of cannibals. They used to live across the whole country and feast on innocent travelers and village people. The goddess Flamoya hated them for it and forced them to live all together so they would devour each other. They're supposed to be all gone except for some hungry ones that come out and eat naughty children." He finished his story with his hands raised above his head like a monster, "But why would the Tsinigani house be talkin' about some old story to scare kids?" Ramal asked thoughtfully. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI didn't have an answer for him. My thoughts were turned towards my own life, looking for any kind of evidence that might prove the young lord's insult as more than just an insult, but a true disgust for something I could actually be. |
This is an amazing start for a story! It's quit unique and very intertaining. I long for more!
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Thank you very much Zophina. I'm very glad you like it. I'll try to post more often.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI did the only thing I could do and took refuge in the comfort of my family. My own mistake before the young lord of the Tsinigani and my discovery of my possible lineage hung between us and made me quiet. "What spirit has run of with your voice little brother?" Sinume, my older sister asked as she sat beside me at our worn wooden table. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"No spirit, unless you know of one of wiriness." I told her as I lay my head down on my folded arms. The familiar sound of my mother scouring dishes in the wash basin gave me comfort and for a moment I closed my eyes. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI felt her arm round my shoulders in an embrace, her head against mine. She gave a soft laugh, "Oh I know that one very well. Were the lambs that rowdy today?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"They were a little. But that isn't it," I watched my mother's deft hands scrub the inside of a bowl. Her face was serene as she went about her work. Her purple eyes, so much like mine, seemed far away in some foreign day dream. I couldn't stop the lord's words from coming back to me, "Eat your mother for all I care." I was one my feet before I realized. My chair had toppled over and I had pushed Sinume aside but I was up and the words were flowing from my mouth, “Mother. Am I a Shieto?” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngShe looked at me sadly, a soft smile spread across her lips and she brushed a strand of hair from her face, slick then, with water. “Not you my dear. Your sister and father are, but not you.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI had not been expecting the blunt answer. I had expected avoidance and to fiddle around the question until the subject was misplayed by some other trivial matter. No this though, it left me with no idea of what to say, how to answer. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Perhaps though,” She said as she rose gracefully and wiped her hands on her dirty wrinkled apron, “That was not exactly the correct answer. You are not a Shieto like your father and sister, but that blood does run through your veins, just as that of the Elreen runs as well.” She placed a slender hand to her heart and fixed me with a violet gaze. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI hadn’t wanted it to be true. It would have been fine if the lord had merely been insulting me. I could have lived with that, I had caused the accident that killed his horse. This though? The thought consumed me, I spoke without thinking, “So, I’m some sort of beastly killer than?” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Shonasha,” My mother’s voice spoke my name. It stopped me and I followed her gaze to my sister. She had looked away and hidden her face beneath her golden curls. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHer green eyes looked up, tear sodden. “No Shonasha. You were not raised a killer, you will be fine.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe venom in that one word, you, it was heartbreaking. But then, I saw something that I had not seen before, a whole other side to my family. They had sacrificed there nature, their way of life. My father had changed himself and his daughter out of love for his wife and here I had not seen any of it. “Sinume, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngA commotion outside stopped me from finishing. I heard my father’s voice raised in protest and the horns of the Tsinigani hunting party. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMy mother turned her face quizzically towards the door. The Tsinigani were not known for storming upon the houses of citizens unless at some offense to them. What reason did my mother have to think that any of her family would commit a crime against our lords and providers. Despite that, she quickly made her way to the door and threw it open. Following quickly behind, Sinume and I quickly saw the commotion that was being raised outside.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngA party of four armed horsemen were outside. Two of them had my father by the arms. He stood still if not somewhat sunk, his graying and tangled braid hanging limply over his shoulders. His glasses were perched low on his nose as he listened to another standing soldier who was reading from a parchment. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“...for the crimes committed against his lordship, it has been declared that you must serve five years in the lords fields.” The man read. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMy mother’s hand flew to her fair lips. Stepping forward cautiously she asked, “But sir, what crimes has he committed.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Maylin,” My father breathed the warning over his shoulder. His eyes were now filled with fear, afraid of what they would do to his outspoken wife. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe man rolled up his parchment and tapped it nonchalantly on his shoulder and he gave her a second’s glance, firmly dismissing her as he noted her origin. Without even looking at her he replied, “As to that you can question your son.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngImmediately I felt the eyes spin upon me. My mother’s and sisters were gentle questioning, but the hungry eyes of our fellow villagers were accusing, and accompanied by a hiss of whispers that seemed everywhere. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe soldiers took this opportunity to seat my father upon a withering mule and set off towards the manor in the distant trees. Despite the stares I ran after them. I followed the slow moving train and reached my father’s condemner. Without thinking of the consequences, I clutched at his stirrup and shouted at him, “My father didn’t do anything, don’t take him away! It was my fault, punish me!” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngA fierce kick caught me in the mouth and I was sent down. Again I was forced to duck and hope that the coming horses didn’t crush me. Over the crashing of the hooves I heard the soldier shout, “One day you’ll understand that your actions affect more than just yourself.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI stood up to watch them disappear and was surprised to see the young lord perched with a merry grin upon his face. He was seated upon a new horse, a massive brown and white stallion. The cloaked man with the red eyes from the hunting party was whispering something to the young lord. “Totsu Tsinigani!” The young lord shouted suddenly, “Remember that name boy, it won’t be the last you hear of it!” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngDespite the tears that had grown in my eyes at my father’s taking, I wiped my face and spat blood on the ground. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngTotsu turned his horse sharply then and quickly trotted off after the others, his laugh left behind to echo in the trees. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngOnce again I found the red eyes from the hooded man turned towards me. They remained for a second, before he too left. I was too angry at myself to wonder. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI will always admire my family for their resourcefulness. Without allowing a single one of the waiting neighbors to stop them for questioning they returned to the house and returned to their business. I stood by the door, watching in disbelief as my sister returned to my mother's unfinished washing and my mother moved to prepare dinner. My mother leaned heavily over her work and sliced the vegetables with firm chops.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Shonasha, would you be a dear and fetch me some firewood?" She asked without looking at me. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI just stood there, the weight of guilt washing over me. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Shonasha?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Don't you want to know what I did!" I shouted, stopping both of them in their work, "Don't you want to know what I did to make them take father away? Don't you want to blame me?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngSinume wiped a sleeve across her face and didn't look at me, but my mother looked up. Tears shone in her eyes, but their was no anger or even shame in her eyes, just pity. "Oh Shonasha," She sighed as she paced across the room. Her hands gripped my shoulders and she cocked her head to the side as she told me, "I know you would never mean for something like this to happen. I would never blame you either." She brushed a stray hair from my face and smiled sadly, "Things like blame and anger, they'll tear us apart, but we're a family. More than anything now, we need to stick together, until your father can return home." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI nodded slowly, though I did not entirely agree with her. I had broken our family, the least I could have done was bear the burden of it, but my mother never would have let me. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"What do you say you get me that firewood? It'll be one of your new jobs now that father isn't here to do it." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI consented and went outside to our yard to gather wood, but not without noticing that my sister, Sinume, still wouldn't look at me. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngShe was silent during dinner and as soon as she had finished her meal retired to our shared room in the cramped upstairs. I helped my mother clean the dishes before also making my way up. When I reached the top, I heard my sister voice and stopped. Realizing that she was praying, I made to return downstairs until later. Sinume's words caught me though, I wanted to know what she was thinking. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Flamoya,” I heard her say softly, “I know you are a goddess of sacrifices, but I don’t know if I can survive this. You took away my mother with my birth, and made me feel guilty. Now you keep my father from me and make me feel guilty for hating my brother, the only blood I have left here. Please Flamoya, give me some sign of where you want me to go from here, what you want me to do. May the moon guide me to your true path.” http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThere was a rustling as she slid into bed and settled in to sleep. I sat on the step, waiting for her to fall to sleep and reflecting on what she had said. It was true she was nearly a grown woman, but father had never been away from our home like this, of course it would make her uneasy, it made me tremble in the cool spring air. What would be come of us now that there was no man, no proper man to head our household? http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngFinally I paced into our shared room and slid into bed next to my sister. She whispered in her sleep, and her brows were knit on her forehead. “I’m so sorry Sinume.” I whispered before gently kissing her golden curls. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png“Not a beast...not a killer,” She whimpered faintly from her dreams. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI turned away from her and stared at the moonlit wall. A fresh wave of guilt washed over me as I remembered what I had said earlier that day. I hoped sleep would come soon, but knew that it wouldn’t. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe days passed slowly as I began to take over the place of my father in taking care of out home. There was much I had never realized he did while I was dozing in the fields with my lambs running amuck. My father’s neat pile of firewood quickly dwindled as we used it for cooking and boiling water for baths. I used what I could remember of the task to attempt to build up a new store. The results were less than satisfying, where my father had neatly sliced logs, mine more along the lines of oversized splinters that burned quickly in the flames. I was ashamed to bring the failed attempts into our house, but my mother merely smiled and thanked me.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI was lucky at least, that my father had been able to plant our garden before he was taken away. It became my job to car for the sparse saplings that managed to poke their heads through the earth. I was determined to do the job right and pulled weeds from the patch of earth everyday. How many of the virgin plants I pulled from the ground by mistake I was never sure, but the rows that grew seemed copious enough for the three of us. The only advantage to my father leaving was that there was one less mouth to feed. Where we usually were forced to eat little in the long winter, I hoped that we would at least be better fed in the ones to come. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAs I worked haphazardly to fill the spaces that I’d rent by having my father taken away, the neighbors watched curiously, taking in both my failures and successes with a neutral eye. Needless to say that as a family of Shieto and foreign Elreen, we were not the most respected in our forest village. Few dared to lend a hand to the family that had gone against nature. The fact that I had been accused of a crime that had taken my father from our household was a disgrace. On market days, venders refused to sell me anything but the worst of what they had to offer. The manor’s stall, which had no worse, refused to sell to me at all, always claiming that their wares were a much higher price than they were. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIf not for the few friends I had managed to keep as I grew older, we may not have survived at all. As our lambs grew older and less likely to wonder, Ramal taught me how to make and use a bow as well as how to track the more copious game, the ones the Tsinigani wouldn’t be hunting. We hunted together, when signs lay on the hills we watched over and always split what we caught. I was sure though, that Ramal always made my portion larger, his family was better of than mine, with a father and a second son to work for their food. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIt was in this way that my family lived through the spring, the rebirth of the world and ourselves. They never asked why, my mother and sister, but simply trusted that whatever I had done was over and was being paid for by my father’s labors. I sometimes looked for him, from my perch on the hills as my flock grazed. Sometimes I thought I saw him, working those fields laboriously under the sun, but I could never be sure. I didn’t want to be sure, not when I saw the sluggish ones whipped into movement, their bare sun tanned backs bleeding in the sunlight. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI never told my mother and sister that I looked for him, though they always looked up expectantly when I returned, as if hoping for some sign of him. Though Sinume learned to live day by day without her father for support, she was still difficult to be around. It was obvious that a part of her still held contempt for me, contempt for stealing away her father, the only full blooded family she had left. I let her do it. I didn’t want to break what little was still left between us. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngSpring passed on. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngSummer brought with it a new quantity of difficulties. The winds changed, blowing in from the west where the mountains stood. No rain clouds came over their peaks. All was blocked by the white capped hills. The wind that did come was hot and dry. Though we lived under the shade of trees, the heat was still there, sapping what water was left from their leaves. Animals too, were few and difficult to find as they hid from the heat.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAny summer before I would have spent lazing the days away by the river, but I had responsibilities to bare. Without rain we were forced to be sparing with our water. I used what I could on the drying garden, hoping to bring some life back into the dying leaves. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngAll of the villagers suffered that year. We watched from our dying gardens as the Tsingani set up their single stall during market days and sold what they had at unbelievable prices. Meanwhile crates of vegetables were sent in wagons to some larger city to be sold. They could have easily fed us all with their fields but it was plain that they did not care for the people that toiled on their fields. No, I saw more each day that the family that owned the land we lived on were nothing more than undertakers, using us to get all they could from it. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI spent much of my time trying to procure some food. If I was not tending the garden, then I was searching for some spot of green grass to feed out slowly diminishing flock with. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI watched my mother and sister grow thin under the mean rations that we allotted for that hard time. I dared not look in the mirror at my own face, fearing what I must look like. At night, we went to bed early with hungry bellies and scorned our misfortune. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngWith the effects of the drought growing worse everyday, the Tsinigani finally decided to attempt a means of help. They declared that the whole village should come together to perform the blood ritual. It is a belief of the followers of Flamoya, that the goddess is a vengeful one, and will punish those who commit sins against our name. During the full moon, when her eye is upon us, families partake in a blood ritual where they prick a finger in punishment for the sins that they have committed. The strength of the punishment varies from home to home, I could only wonder what the cruel house of Tsinigani would request of us. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe night of the full moon came and the villagers gathered into the Tsingani's single open garden. There was an air of hope in all of them as they surrounded the marble statue of Flamoya. She looked a fearsome woman. Her features bared a haughtiness as she stood tall and dominating. In one outstretches hands she held a single scale, the one-sided nature of her justice. In the other she held the lead to several carved marble lambs, the source of her powerful weavings. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMy family and I had waited long into the night to come. The Tsinigani after all had their whole estate to go through the ritual. With the condition of my family, I didn't want to be there when the most of the blood was spilt. Even so, the metallic tang of it was everywhere. Each new confessor brought a fresh wave into the night and brought Flamoya's golden scale, the offering plate for this sacrifice, to run over. As a man in front of me stepped forward I saw clearly the blood covered grass and the red that stained both Flamoya's marble gown and her frozen shape. Decorated as they were in our sins, I couldn't help but think that it looked as if she had chocked the poor beasts. My thoughts turned to my own slaughtered lamb from those many weeks ago. As the man before me stepped away, his sacrifice done, I looked up and gasped into the face that looked back. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngMoonlight fell into the open garden and lit onto the dark hood of the man. It was the same man that I had seen among the riding party, that day and when my father had been condemned for my crime. He shifted his head in an almost questioning way and a shot of moonlight passed his hood and lit on gems affixed to his face. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Illian" I whispered in awe. He was a servant of the goddess herself, a namegiver to children and rumored to be able to see beyond the veil and into the future. I held out my hand without thinking. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIt had never occurred to me that the Tsinigani would have an Illian living in their manor. They were a mysterious people, bound to wonder where they were needed and they were always needed somewhere. He hefted a simple dagger and in a quick movement sliced my open palm and held the open wound over the scale. He counted the drops before releasing my hand to fall back to my side. I was still rudely staring at him. In the faint light I caught what looked to be a smile on his lips, "Run along then Shonasha Shonojo. There are others here who have come to see me, and you shall have your time." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI turned away quickly, and found myself running back to the cover of the trees. My hand burnt as I pulled a tight fist to stop them from shaking. As I came to a stop under the first pine, a shiver ran up the length of me. He had known my name and more then that he had said my time would come. I didn't understand it, but on that hot summer night it turned my blood to ice. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngOur sacrifices did not bring forth rain, nor did it cure the famine for all the village at once. There were family's whose crops suddenly sprung from where there had been nothing, but those rations were still meager what there should have been. I was a doubter and watched from my hill as flies feasted on the drying blood that drenched the earth around the goddess' statue. They birthed from the still pools flew in hoards to harass the few animals that were remaining. The animals worked themselves raw trying to rid themselves of the pests, and the bugs feasted on the festering wounds.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIn that manner, the last of the surviving sheep died and my family was left with nothing but the meager weeds that grew in our garden. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI couldn't help blaming myself as my mother sold what little jewels she had, pieces of her homeland, for an ear of corn or a shallow baskets worth of old grain. In the passing meals I claimed that I was not hungry before leaving for the dried up riverbed to search for whatever water I could to feed our parched plants. No matter what my mother and sister said, no matter their claims, I blamed myself. I saved what food I could for them and when they forced me to eat, only partook of little. I was stubborn and foolish as children often are, and more so from the guilt that bore at me and at the same time sustained me. Countless times I was I worked in the garden, striving against the futile cause, I wished to be in my father's place. He would have known what to do, what to plant that would have survived and how to keep the sheep from dying, even how to beg pardons from the few neighbors better off then we were. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Shonasha," Sinume said to me one afternoon as I toiled in the garden. The week had been hard as it had been our first without any meat at all, and our stores had gone down to the bare minimum, "Come inside, it's not worth it." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"And what will I do then, sit and wait for a miracle?" http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"You'll get no farther sitting out here and yelling at the dirt. There's nothing left. Come inside, you're making mother worry." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngHer words cut me to the bone, a feat that was easier done in the state we were in, but it was enough to make me give up the hopeless venture. I rose from the sad plot of land, dry soil falling like dust from my knees. Under the sun's unforgiving heat, I made it too steps before falling again to my knees and greeting the darkness. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngWhen I awoke, it was darkness too, that greeted my eyes, until slowly the passing moonlight let my eyes adjust and see. I sat up, and found myself in a makeshift bed put together on the floor where our house stood open to the elements and moonlight poured in freely. It was only a few days past the full moon, and the light bathed my darkened home in silver. As much as I wanted to hate the goddess for bringing the plague upon us, and not granting my family relief after our sacrifice at the blood ritual, I felt calm bathed in that moonlight. The weariness in me felt lifted and my hunger was gone.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI rose from my bed and made my way outside, but stopped when my foot hit an obstacle. I looked down, and what I saw brought tears to my eyes, and at the same time cast the cruelest doubts deep within me. It was a simply basket over laden with fruits and vegetables. I dug through the contents, pulling out thick potatoes and smelling them deeply, making sure that they were real. Apples and hearty pears lay wrapped in cloth to protect them from bruising. Cushion in it all was a thick loaf of bread, still soft and it's freshness as well as a block cheese the size of which we would have never been able to afford. The last of the precious gifts was a earthen jug, which I unstopped to find clear pristine water. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngIt was not until after I had gone through all of it's contents twice and finally replaced them that I wondered where they had come from. The night was quiet and still. But a whisper of breath graced the sparse leaves of the trees, nothing near enough to hide the sounds of a single soul out in the night. My eyes slowly lifted to the near full silver globe hanging in the black sky. Unsure of myself, or my assumption, I chanced a short bow before grabbing the basket and it's contents and hiding them in our cupboard. I pulled my bedding into the dark of their house and hid from the eye of the goddess, ashamed of lack of faith in her. |
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngThe next morning, as pale rays of light swept in through the open windows, I rose and walked out into the yard, and stood by the small pond that sat there. The moon had long since set, and with it Flamoya's watch over our world. Now the sky was covered with vast sheets of white and gray rimmed clouds that blotted out the sun, the eye of Luphana, god of the lands across the sea. And yet in the drought the clouds did not bare rain, but sat in the sky, blocking out the sun as they had everyday of my life.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngWhen my mother and sister came down in the morning, I was already going through our new food supplies, slicing large pieces of bread and cheese all with a grim sense of foreboding. I could not help feeling I didn't deserve it, not with my lack of faith in our goddess. My mother laid her eyes on the store and immediately covered her mouth with her hands , tears shown in her eyes. I merely held out an apple before her and asked, "How do you prepare this?" She quickly wiped away her tears, brushed me aside with a smile on her face and set about peeling the fruit and chopping it into fair slices. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI handed my sister a slice of bread as she stood by talking it all in with a inquisitive eye, "Where did this come from?" she asked, before giving the bread a short sniff and taking a large bite out of it. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI chanced a quick look at her before looking back at my mother. I folded my arms and said, "Honestly, I haven't the faintest idea. I awoke in the night and there it was, sitting in the doorway, just inside." I pointed with one hand and looked at here again, but she was already moving towards the spot. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI followed her over to where she leaned in her skirts, looking for I don't know what. "Here?" she said, her thin fingers felt the worn wood, "In the night," she looked out across the yard and into the trees. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngI leaned down next to her, looking at her firm profile. Pale hair fell around her curved ear and around her shoulder. "It was still last night, I didn't hear a soul out there. All there was, was moonlight." http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.png"Moonlight," she said, and looked at me, wondering. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...oku/indent.pngOur mother called us away from the doorway and gave us pieces of fruit and cheese, along with fresh clean water. It made me feel a little better inside, seeing how thankful she looked for this bounty. For the first time in what felt like years, I thought that maybe our family was going to survive. |
After our initial plunge into the depths of our gift, we took to rationing the food, unsure of how long it would last us. And yet, our fears were unnecessary, exactly seven days later my sister woke me in the early hours of the day with another basket in her arms, laden with much the same gifts. And so it continued every week for several, until it even became practice to leave our empty basket out and have it be replaced in the morn with a new one.
We hid it from our neighbors, continuing, my sister and I, to go out on market day and by a few things with our spare coin. When they speculated about our health, we only told them that our prayers for health had been answered. There was one event concerning the gifts that I never told anyone. One morning as I came from my room after waking I found a sight that shocked me. While that basket lay in it's usual spot overladen with it's life-giving contents, there was something strange about it. A ray of sunlight was shining in through the open door and landed on the basket in a golden square. It was an ill omen, as sunlight was the symbol of my people's enemies. I stood, eyeing the unwavering light as it shown on fair fruits and vegetables. Above all I didn't want my mother and sister to see such a thing. We had had enough bad luck, I didn't want them to think that our only good fortune was being cursed. Nervous, I stepped over to the bright light and kneeled beside the spot where it shown on the floor. Sitting there, I could see the tiny specks of dust that floated lazily through the air. I tested the tips of my fingers under the light, but quickly pulled them back as I felt the warmth that seemed to run straight for me. I stared at my hand in awe and then up to the parted clouds where the tiny ray of light was peeking through. Just as I was about to plunge my hand into the light to snatch the basket, the light disappeared. I looked into the sky, nothing but gray clouds remained. A shiver ran down my spine. I quickly snatched away the basket and ran off into the woods to discard the foul thing under a barren tree. When my mother and sister awoke later I simply told them, that it hadn't come. For many days I found myself staring at my fingertips and wondering at that warmth that had seemed to burn straight through them. |
I no longer knew whether the gifts were a boon or something foul. They were helping us survive yes, but I could erase the image of that square of sunlight. It frightened me and I became more reserved in enjoying the bounty.
My sister, unbeknownst to me had been harboring her own doubts, although hers were of a different kind entirely. She had no trouble in revealing these doubts either, or at least to me. She came to me one evening as soon as my mother had turned in for the night. "I have something I need to tell you," she said as she sat down beside me, "It's about this food we've been receiving." My gaze slipped to the fingertips. They still seemed to burn with the light that I had touched on that day. I was afraid that she might have had a similar experience. When I looked up to answer, she was giving me a queer look. She did not wait for me to reply, but instead, as if she could not stand to hold it in any longer, said, "Father is the one bringing them to us," I would have exclaimed had Sinume not immediately placed a finger to my lips. There were numerous questions that I wanted to ask her, but most of all I wanted to know if she was positive about this. When she was sure I was not going to yell, she removed her finger and I asked her, "How do you know?" She looked away, as if receding into herself and remembering something. Her brow furrowed and she made to say something, but bit her lip. She remained like that for a moment. No sound besides the crickets chirping in the cloudless night could be heard. Then at once she spoke, "I saw him. Last time he came." |
(editting)
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I felt that in order for this novel to fit more properly with the others that companion it, this one needed a proper prologue. So, this part takes place before all the other posts that I have made.
*** It had surprised me, when at last the man had agreed to humor me with the interview that I had been asking of him since I first laid my eyes on him. It has been my goal to keep a chronicle of the events that are occurring in this revolutionizing country. More than anything though, I wanted to hear this man's story, the man who very well may have started it all. So it surprised me, when the horn's of victory were blasting and our small group of men turned warriors were cheering to the heavens, that this man turned to me and in the most quiet and calm voice asked me, "Would you like now, to hear my story?" I prayed him eat and rest first, there was no reason to rush now that we had finally earned our reprieve. He begged me except the offer though, and he has made me wonder with his claim that he will soon be going on a great journey, with no prediction of when he will return. Now I sit bent over as much clean parchment as I could find, by the firelight, in this afternoon so that I will not have to stop but to add a few logs as the old ones burn away. I am this excited to hear this man's story. I can barely bring myself to touch our rations that I had brought in for us, once again to prevent interruption. As the door opens and he steps inside, I start to my feet, but he waves a hand in dismissal at me, wearily. I can only wonder, as I return to my seat, what he has been about since he made his offer earlier that morning. He is still dressed as he was on the battle field, except that he has left his armor behind. His thread bare clothes are caked with dried blood, and every step across the floor in his boots leaves the dried residue of old mud. He crosses to the spot across from me and sits down without invitation. Now I see that he has not even taken the time to bathe himself. Dirt and grime cling to him, hiding the porcelain-like skin beneath. If not for the filthy disguise, he could almost be mistaken for a handsome woman, or so was my impression on the few other times that I have seen him. Even his eyes, a bright purple that like of which I've seen on no other living person appear dull and tired. The once snow white hair appears gray and lays in a tangled braid across his left shoulder. He removes his blades, and they glitter in the firelight as he lays them across the side table next to him. It appears, they were the only things that he spared a second to look after. He does not notice my observation, but instead with a slight gesture towards the food and waiting only a second for my own silent nod, helps himself to his portion of the meal. He pulls the meal into his lap and I continue to watch as I politely pick at my own pick at what is left of my own food. In truth I had already eaten before he arrived, once again with my attempt to forgo interruptions to my writing. He eats bent over his plate and seems little distracted by taste for he easily mixes it's contents into a heap and threatens to consume it all in a spare few seconds. Perhaps he is as eager to tell his story as I am to hear it? He places the now empty plate on the table and reaches for the glass of wine. This he downs half of in the first go, but then, as if realizing his lack of need for haste, he adjusts himself more comfortably in his seat and rests the glass on his knee as he holds it. From embarrassment or some other stray thoughts, he avoids my eye and stares for some time into the light of the burning fire. Would that an artist were there to catch this scene in paper. His fierce exterior is calmed by the light of the fire in his eyes and the sadness that dwells there. A chill runs up my spine at the sight of it and my quill shakes in my hand and he turns his half-lidded glassy eyes towards me. I move ink pot closer to me and ready my hand for much quicker writing for it seems now he is ready to speak. His first words, "Shonasha Shonojo," His name. |
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