Cleve

...As told by Ghyskian, younger sister of Kallon.

It was with that sickly feeling that I woke up with terrible upset and terror, as though the life I dreamed was my own, just-happened experience. That those feelings and sensations and atrocities were truly witnessed by me and happened to my people. The immense sense of loss and hurt, disgust at what my imagination conjured lingered to leave a bitter taste in my mouth and hurt in my heart.

It was still dark outside. In the distance, a muffled drum slowly beat four times, indicating it was hour of the Mouse. Buried in the bedding, I was unwilling to arise but too afraid to sleep. Eyeballed the tincture and frowned so hard my face hurt.

I'd rather stay awake if the resulting dreams were nothing but terror and misery. Although I appreciated the intentions of Cleve when he gave me the tincture, I can't help but be appalled at the power of the herbs he dabbled with.

By the time Ninian arrived with the morning's breakfast, I had washed with an ewer and pitcher and dressed in today's frock of indigo blue. I sat on the edge of the fountain in the antechamber, staring at its rippling waters when Ninian bustled in, looking around. "No one else up yet?" She took a tray from one of the men tasked with carrying breakfast to us.

I shook my head. "Not yet."

She dismissed the men carrying the rest of the trays and said to me, "Well, you were the first to return. And how are you? You look terrible. Did young Cleve say something to upset you last night?" She joined me at the table, taking the chair while I sat on a bench next to her.

Again I shook my head. "No. Just bad dreams and when I woke up I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Oh, child. If you need a soothing tea, just let me know. You haven't had a good night since you got here, have you?"

I didn't say anything as I half-heatedly stirred honey into my porridge.

Ninian continued, as though I responded. "I'm rather surprised Cleve has taken a strong liking to you, my girl. Long thought he'd waste away, unattached."

That did something to shift my attention to her one-sided conversation. My eyes flitted to Ninian's face. "Why is that? Is he a glutton for misery?"

"Not in the least, although his life journey might suggest otherwise. He is a good man who lost much. What he has now, he has clawed into existence. And its high time he takes a mate and fulfills life's circle to completion. You should give him a chance, if you don't mind this old busybody."

A small smile touched my lips as I recalled what he said to me last night. "He said he's been nagged by his grandmother for eight years straight to find a mate."

"Oh, he says that, does he? Nagged. Hmmm. Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed, how he dismisses a grandmother's love for him." The way she said that gave me a sinking feeling.

Wondering if my suspicions were right, I replied, in an attempt to elicit a solid response without asking outright. "Yes he did. He also said his grandmother taught him herbal healing."

A proud smile graced her lined face. "That she did. But he took what he learned and expanded upon it. Dare say I taught the boy well."

My mouth opened, but no words came forth, as I found myself doing exactly what I didn't want to do. "You...You're his grandmother?"

"I am." She said it proudly. "If there's anything you want to know about him, ask away. I would have you both happy, if things work out like that." Her lips pursed. "But this is a one-time offer. Either you'll make use of this or not. Your choice." One could easily see the matchmaker at work.

It wasn't much of a choice, all things considered.

As I saw it, I had three choices. I could assimilate and wed. I would be well treated, compared to back home. I rather liked having a say in things and not having to appeal to the Elders for a mate. To be pursued by attentive, attractive men also held great appeal... and as much as I care for Gristam, he seemed wishy-washy at best compared to how Cleve honed in on me. Sigh. Another choice was to embrace being a Tribute. Having witnessed the ritual ending a Tribute's life, I knew that wasn't my path. I am not Kallon any more than Cleve is his father. I also knew I didn't have it in me to end my own life. The third choice is escape. But even then nothing is assured. I might never make it back to Mih'Noushi lands, and if I did, there's no guarantee I wouldn't be chased out due to fear of Kaeldish retaliation. The Elders were cruel and life harsh there. Having tasted freedom with a Kaeldish flavor, I knew that the path my heart led me to was the first.

My perception of how things should be as defined by how I grew up warred and lost to Kaeldish superiority.

Cleve laying claim to me for all to see ensures no other can, at least for now. The longer I'm here, the more likely I will have to fully assimilate with them. Couldn't lie to myself; Cleve appealed to me on a level I wasn't ready to admit aloud. "Is he as nice as he seems, or is it an act?" All the smiles and blushes last night made me wonder if it was a ruse to get into my good graces.

"Nicer. His father was not a kind man and did not treat his son with anything but overwhelming expectation and contempt. Felt that Cleve denied him the prestige of fathering two daughters in one go. So any gentleness was reserved for Cleve's twin sister, Cleaqi. Cleve grew up knowing how much kindness from others meant and lives by that for himself. Ask him why he was called Mouse. He will tell you."

"Mouse?" All the helms I'd seen thus far were of animals far larger than a mouse.

"We celebrate many Animal Gods from Life's Sacred Forest. The least among them is the Mouse. If you wish an education on the various Gods, ask him; he will teach you."

A word from my dream resonated in my mind and as it dealt with Cleve's title, I saw no reason not to ask about it. "What is Sylvianeti?"

"The God of Gods, and All That Is. All Gods make up the body of Sylvianeti. Ahh, still confusing by the look on your face. A Priest of Sylvianeti is one who serves as a holy arbiter and protector, a channel of divine energy." She gave a quick frown before continuing. "The best way I can help you understand it, is to ask Cleve to participate in the Kaeldiri-Nahiga. Only then can you understand how his divine imprint is different than Hunters."

"Kaeldiri-Nahiga? What is that?"

"Menfolk like to wrestle. Those who wish to do demonstrations of strength brawl for entertainment and feminine attention. This is called Kaeldiri-Nahiga. If a freeborn woman already has a mate who takes exception to potential rivals, they will fight. If the mate loses, then the rival can pursue the woman. When they fight, they cloak themselves in their imprint, use no weapons and last one standing wins."

I didn't understand what Ninian meant when she said they would cloak themselves in their imprint. She saw my confusion and added, "It's a bunch of men brawling like little boys pretending to be animals over the last piece of honey cake. They will fight to prove they can protect and defend their mate. We will be heading to the feasting grounds early, as the Kaeldiri-Nahiga are the main event and take all day. Chieftains that participated in the harvest this time will sit on the dais and oversee the fights."

A similar feeling to how I felt yesterday emerged in my stomach again. Watching men fight held no appeal. But at least it would be less violent than the dreams I experienced. Tried shaking the memory from my mind. "Is there not just one chieftain?"

"There are a handful of lesser chieftains, responsible for territories surrounding the Mother Mountain. Lord Arec is the commander of them all and they form the war council."

I frowned as the dream resurfaced in my mind again. "Is there much war?" As I awaited her reply, I ate my porridge.

"More than we care for. Those who cursed us nibbled away at outlaying territories. They seek to conquer the Mother and have endeavored to do so hundreds of years. We do not seek war; it has been thrust upon us and only by the Gods Will have we managed to survive this long. Gaelid Kael is the last bastion for the remaining Kaeldish population. If we should all perish, Kaeldisia will be no more, not even a memory."

A loud knock sounded from the double doors. Ninian rose and walked to the doors, cracking one open. A guard spoke low and I couldn't make out his words. And then a different man spoke just as quietly in a deeper timbre.

I could, however, hear Ninian's pithy reply.

"Sniffing around here already? Have you no shame? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to nag at you incessantly. Let the poor girl finish her meal first. Then, if she wishes it, she will be escorted to the courtyard after. You can wait for her there." Ninian shut the door with a vigorous slam.

She sighed as she returned to the table. "Your presence is requested by young Cleve. It's not yet hour of the Hawk, and he dares seek you before the feast? Whatever did you two discuss that drives him to such enthusiasm?"

Shrugged my shoulders. "We talked about a great many topics. Mostly him, though." It was true. He offered much more lavish conversation than I did last night.

With a smile and matter of fact shrug, Ninian said, "That would do it. I must ask you though, do you like him?"

I finished my breakfast. "I don't dislike him but can't say I know him well enough in a fancy-him-in-my-bed kind of way as of yet."

"Well, I wish you both the best of luck, however it plays out-- just don't break the poor boy's heart. Once you know how you feel, either way, you just tell him. Dragging it out is unkind." With that said, she said, "Do you wish to meet with him after you eat?"

"In the courtyard, right?"

She nodded. "One of the guards will walk you there." Ninian beckoned me to her side as she opened one of the massive doors and took a peek. "Good, he's gone." She turned to me and said, "I'll rouse the resting and get them ready. You, go see what he wants and then return." Giving her attention to the guards, she said, "One of you take her to the courtyard to visit with young Cleve. You can offer him reasonable privacy." She waved me forward and pushed me through the door. "You have an hour."

The guard on the right stepped forward and didn't even spare me a look. "Follow me." And started walking down the corridor, bypassing the stairs leading up, that we took last night to get to the feasting grounds, and instead took the next set of stairs leading down a short switchback before coming to an end in a large, foliage-filled courtyard. Flowering trees provided shade and a sweet, musky scent on the breeze. In the center, a fountain with small gold and silver fish darting about in the water. I sat on the fountains edge. High above, a slanted pane of clear crystal provided a roof that would keep rain away, yet let sunshine in to nurture the plants.

Cleve approached me from the depths of the cultivated jungle with a wide smile and crinkles at the corner of his eyes. I, however, was in no mood to appreciate his happiness at seeing me, apprehensive by him seeking me out and fueled by the nightmare lingering in my memory.

He read my face, scanning my eyes and mouth. His smile evaporated. "You have dark circles under your eyes and a big frown. What happened?" With that, he sat at my feet, as a child would an elder, as if to listen to stories.

The guard retreated to the stairs, leaving me within eyesight as I shifted in my seat upon the fountains edge. The sound of trickling water was somewhat calming, and I listened to it for a long moment before speaking. "Your tincture is vile. The taste, not so much, but the dream... Vile." I spat out the word.

It was his turn to frown. "What sort of dream? How many drops did you take?"

"I took what you said, three drops. Took three more when I didn't fall asleep by hour of the Lynx. After that, I fell asleep quickly and that part was rather nice. But then I dreamed of a village experiencing raiders, and they tried to hide me from the raiders, but we were captured and they put us all in a large tent, lit a sacred forest on fire, tormented us and even abused their own children in front of us ... if they were willing to do that to their own, what would they do to us? I tried to make an escape and a horn rang out... then I woke up and it was hour of the Mouse. I didn't want to sleep after that." My voice turned hoarse after recalling the nightmare within that tent branded in my brain and upset the dream-me felt.

The look Cleve gave me I couldn't describe. Upset, anger, sympathy. I didn't know, as they all seem to wash over his face and blend into each other. "I am so sorry. I've never heard of the tincture bestowing terror like that." He fell into thoughtful silence before asking, "Did it feel dreamlike or did it feel like reality?"

"I could smell the smoke. I could see the horror and taste blood in my mouth. It felt as though it were real, as real as you sitting there. I felt the sorrow deep in my heart upon waking as I feel it now."

A part of me hoped so deeply that the dream was just my fear and upset at being captured and finding out the fate of my sister catching up to me; an outlet of all that was wrong in my world. That gave me hope that maybe it's out of my system, and that I'd be free from such frightful scenes in the future. The same thing happened after my father died. Insomnia followed by a dream reliving the incident for a few months. And then peace as determination and revenge took hold in my bones.

However, Cleve's next words gave me a sinking feeling.

He cleared his throat and asked, "May I discuss this with the Great Crone and another healer?"

I understood consulting with another healer, but the Great Crone? "Why?"

He looked at me unflinchingly and said with deliberate emphasis, "Why? Because it sounds like you had a vision. That wasn't a dream. That's my thought. The Great Crone keeps the history of Kaeldisia, and I'm hoping my grandmother can shed light on whether the tincture gives visions to outsiders and those without inborn knowledge of the Blot. I mean, typically one must consume the Mother's Waters for well over a moon span and then take a minimum of sixteen drops while ritual incense burns. You fulfilled neither of those qualifiers, and so I feel that it must be investigated. If you don't want to be there, I understand. But as it deals with you and your reaction... well, as I said, it's your choice." He coughed and cleared his throat before continuing. "You should know that your sister's talent for slipping into trances was quite strong, and you too may share that ability."

Tears welled up, blurring my sight to spill down my cheeks. "I only want to sleep. I don't want visions, I don't want to experience anything like that ever again!" I felt something stir inside, a swirling sensation of upset, anger, and resolve, which then formed a sense of peace that hardened around my heart. I knew I would sleep again. Someday. But other things were astir as well, things I couldn't put a name to yet.

My tears made Cleve visibly upset. "Then don't take the tincture again." He sighed. "I am so sorry to have inflicted that upon you. My deepest apologies."

"The Gods aren't going to punish you, are they?" I couldn't resist asking as I regained my equilibrium.

"Highly unlikely. A widely held perspective among the Elders is that visions and prophesy are granted to us by the spirits around us or the Gods themselves. So, in some views, you were blessed with Sight, and what you witnessed did not physically harm you. But I do appreciate you caring enough to ask. Worry not about me," he responded. "Worst that will happen is Grandmother harping."

"Ninian is your grandmother?" Knowing full well the truth, I wondered why he hadn't mentioned it.

"She is. My mother's mother, in case you were wondering. My other grandmother has long since passed."

"How come you didn't tell me before?"

With a shrug he replied, "Because it wasn't really relevant to me pursuing you. If you knew, you might look at me with a biased eye. I want to be considered for my own merits and not by who my kin happen to be."

I frowned. I mean, I got what he meant, but to me it seemed relevant. "So I am not supposed to know your kin?"

He heaved a sigh. "Well, so far that hasn't really worked out in my favor, has it?"

It was my turn to shrug my shoulders with a nonchalance I didn't feel. "I'm here talking to you, aren't I? Besides, I like Ninian." Wouldn't deny that all things considered, I was glad I never have to see his father again, even though I was denied my revenge. I must judge folks for their deeds and not for their kinfolk. We can't choose our families before we're born. And if we did, it must be so we could learn life lessons from them.

Cleve considered my words. "That is true, you are. But you're still frowning."

"You are not responsible for anyone but yourself. I keep that in mind." Spoke quietly.

He offered a bright smile. "Your generosity is noted and appreciated." Cleve said with warmth in his voice. "Looking forward to the feast later?"

Decided to take Ninian's advice. "Not sure. I was told there would be Kaeldiri-Nahiga today. Will you participate?"

Surprise washed over his face as his eyes widened. "You want to see me in the ring?"

I was a bit in awe of how excited he sounded. Nodding, my awestruck swiftly turned to irritation.

"If you're wanting me to make a public declaration of my intent and rebuff any others thinking about pursuing you, then I really like this idea. Strictly speaking, priests of Sylvianeti don't participate due to the nature of the magic involved... but this could be amusing. Everyone likes a good show."

"Why do you like the idea so much? I didn't expect this reaction from you." I was bewildered. Every word he spoke became more animated than the last, as though he were envisioning a great battle where he stood as the lone victor. My initial impression of him was a gentle giant, a healer. Someone who didn't inflict damage on others. Him wanting to brawl shattered that preconceived notion I held.

The look he gave me was one of confusion. "Why else would you want me to participate in the Kaeldiri-Nahiga? The whole purpose is to show one's ability. Like a peacock showing his tail feathers for a peahen. I wasn't going to participate as I feel my energy is better spent cleaning wounds and scowling at those chasing your skirts, but if my lady requests that I participate in Kaeldiri-Nahiga, who am I to deny her?"

"That's all?" Wary, I couldn't keep the suspicion out of my voice. "Screaming atop the world that I'm yours and reinforcing that with violence rather than feathers?"

Cleve shrugged. "Well, that and to work out grudges relating to chasing the same female. So, if any want you, they must defeat me since you already gave me permission to pursue you. And if you wish for impressive feathers, consider it done." The smile he gave was as sly as a fox's grin. "No one will oppose me. It's really not fair to others, but if you insist, I'm more than happy to show you and all of Gaelid Kael my capabilities in your honor." He puffed out his chest like a rooster about to crow. "I cannot go on hunts or join warbands. Which means unless it's times of crisis, I can't do much other than heal others." His smile widened. "Almost wish my father were still alive to witness my Kaeldiri-Nahiga."

I didn't know what to say so I chose silence before settling on a different topic than his father. "Why can't you leave the boundary?"

"I protect the mountain as an embodiment of Divine Will. The Mother Mountain cannot fall to outsiders as it will be the world's ruin. There is much magic and mana here. Even the water deep inside the earth below the Mother contains healing and esoteric properties. I carry the Ember of Sylvianeti within me, and it cannot leave the mountain for any true length of time, for at all times vigilance must remain. I am the last line of defense and as such, am bound to the land itself. I cannot leave it for good until death. Outside the boundary stones, I have only a shard of my power. If I use up that shard, I will die."

Sadness welled up within me. "You're a prisoner here." They made captives of their own, and it deeply bothered me.

Cleve gave a gentle smile. "I'm no prisoner, although I can understand why you may feel that way. I made the choice full well knowing that I must stay here and defend the Mother Mountain from any who would abuse Her. It is a high achievement for any warrior to survive the initiation. And to clarify, I can leave the mountain for a short while, and I cannot use much magic outside the boundary stones."

I gave him a long look. "What is the cost to you?"

His brow furrowed in what I assume to be puzzlement. "How do you mean?"

"Besides being unable to leave the mountain for any length of time and death if you use up your power outside the barrier, what else can you not do because of your priesthood?"

He lifted his chin and said quietly, "That's the main thing. I will always serve the Mother Mountain and her people, first and foremost. It is my duty, it is my vow, it is who I am. Family is second." Cleve's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "Can you accept that?"

"I'm sure I could adapt." It's not that I was irritated at his response or anything of the sort. It just seemed like getting tossed into an icy lake, after his ardent perusing of me last night. It's been very clear from the first moment I saw him that he served the Kaeldish people. Well, I'm glad I found out his priorities now and not later. "It is good to know that when I'm reborn a Kaeldish freewoman, I'll be a higher priority."

He offered a small smile of consolation. "I'm sorry if that sounded harsh. But I threw my lot in with the Gods long before I met you. It's not like I can undo what was done, nor would I. Someone has to guard the mountain." Cleve drew in a deep breath. "You must go back to the Maidentree, as I have things to prepare for in regard to the Kaeldiri-Nahiga."

"Bandages don't cut themselves, do they?" I jested.

Cleve responded with a smile. "They do not, but there are other things too. I will seek you out after the brawling, at the feast."

"Okay."

Cleve bowed, turned and quickly left, which gave the guard the incentive to call out to me, "Let us return you to the Maidentree."

I crossed the courtyard, now filled with bird song, as human voices remained silent. Our footsteps echoed as we plodded up and down the various stairs and steps, until I was delivered back before the two carved doors leading into the Maidentree. The guard protecting the door flung it open and I walked through without a pause in my step.

Everyone was awake and in the antechamber. Bykani's fingers wove Svarda's golden hair into a braided style, as Veldandy and Ildaara chatted away. Each wore frocks of linen in shades of the forest. Greens, browns, blues. Not fancy garb, but well suited for being outside all day.

"Ah, she returns and now can tell us all about her little adventure." Veldandy teased.

"Yes, I too am curious about why you weren't here." Ildaara addressed me. "You went off for a good hour last night with a puppy-eyed man in tow. And then you left the feast early with that same man, leaving us to fend for ourselves against the forest of giants."

Shrugged my shoulders. "My presence was requested by the Priest of Sylvianeti." Was hoping that would put a quick end to their questioning.

But I was wrong and Bykani rose to the occasion. "Is that the same puppy-eyed priest who laid claim to you last night and doesn't allow any others to pursue you?" Her voice almost giddy, she said, "He's not bad looking at all. When you said priest, I thought it'd be an old man, but no, he's just right."

A sigh escaped my lips. "It is the same man. He's also a healer. This morning was a consultation over medicine given to me last night to help me sleep. It failed and he needed to know."

"Is that all? Then why did he come seeking you, rather than you seeking him?" This time Svarda spoke up, her usually angry manner, tamped down to almost likable levels.

"Well, since you're asking, it turns out that his family and mine had interactions before. We discussed that, too. And the Kaeldiri-Nahiga at the feast today. He likes me. I don't know why, but he's latched on to me and has no intentions to let go anytime soon." I sighed. "If our fates brought us here to help this tribe, then so be it. Could be worse."

Bykani excitedly said, "The Helmed Hunters have their own brawls to impress those they woo. Farmer's don't participate because Hunters offer more protection and that's an important consideration to them. That's what Gared told me. First consideration goes to the Hunter, who cannot complain about any farmers perusing maidens because they provide sustenance and income."

"That is what I've heard as well. Since women are so rare, they must be protected by any means they have." I replied. Then directed a question at Svarda. "Are you feeling better? You seem more settled today."

Svarda drew a deep breath. "I am. But I'm not going to give you an apology since we didn't agree to the wager."

"I wasn't asking for an apology, merely inquiring whether you feel more at ease. I am glad you are."

Her golden eyes narrowed. "Why? You don't even know me."

I shrugged. "Although we come from different places and backgrounds, we're all in the same boat swept into Kaeldish waters. I would rather find strength in allies than be surrounded by fear-mongering and doom-saying. You don't have to be my friend or even my ally, but I do want to assure you, I am not your enemy. If you want someone to hate, hate those who culled Kaeldish numbers to the point they steal girls away in order to survive. As I see it, our kidnappers are the symptom of a bigger problem."

Svarda rolled her eyes and walked off toward the forested dining room. Veldandy said quietly after Svarda's exit, "Don't mind her. She changed her tune last night after being surrounded many men wanting to introduce themselves and dance with her. They overwhelmed her defenses. She must have discovered honey catches more flies than vinegar."

Although it wasn't any of my business, I did feel relief that Svarda' upset was tempered. Fear is a plague, and if not caught early, would only spread to others. "I'm glad of that. But I also meant what I said. We're in this together."

With a gentle smile, Veldandy replied, "Oh, I know. And we're more like sisters in this than allies. Or, at least, that's how I feel about it."

When she said sisters, a cold sweat broke out on my back and slid down my spine.

Sisters.

Sister.

And the memory of a rancid dream bloomed in my mind. Sister, do you not recognize any of us? Further tainted by the bittersweet memory of Kallon and her death. She had no fear. For that, I was grateful. But still, I couldn't erase the vision of her being placed upon the pyre from my mind.

"Are you ill?" Veldandy's worried voice cut through my overwhelming emotions and helped ground me.

"Not ill. Just remembering things I'd rather forget. My apologies for worrying you."

She gave me a long look, "If you need anything, let me know. I'll help."

I offered a small smile. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm fine. Just still acclimating to things here."

She pursed her lips, almost reminiscent of Bykani's manner. "If you say so. But don't do that again. You turned white as a cloud and your eyes darkened. Like, they weren't your eyes. It was odd."

Her words shocked me. "What about my eyes?"

"They changed. The black part of your eyes got huge so there was no green visible. Only for a brief moment, though. When I asked if you were ill, they went back to normal."

Bit my lip and replied, "Thank you. I'm to speak with another healer today. I'll ask them about it."

Ninian's voice broke through all conversations. "Come now, Maidens, and let us return to the Feast Meadow."

She led us like a mother hen through the winding city, back to the meadow which housed the bonfires last night, now arranged to accommodate the Kaeldiri-Nahiga.

The table upon a dais under an awning was now the territory of the various Kaeldish lords who led hunts. The Maidens were given a table with it's own awning at the foot of the dais. A place of honor, but not the highest honor. Cleve wasn't far away and gave me a nod when our gaze met.

Ninian faced the lords seated at the dais and said, "This season's harvest is concluded, and these Maidens ripe for mates. I leave it to them to decide the order of the fights in their honor."

Bykani raised her hand, smiling wide. "I claim the first matches!"

The sounds of voices discussing the merits of vivacious Bykani volunteering herself echoed around the feasting area. Cleve made his way to me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "That is good, you will see what the Hunter's imprint can do. Take the second round of matches."

I gave him a quick look because the excitement couldn't hide in his voice. "Why are you so damn excited?"

"Just hurry and take the second round. Unless you like being surrounded by men wanting to prove their worth by beating each other bloody. I've got herbs I need to prep and bandages to manage. The sooner I can get this done and you settled, the faster I can get back to work."

Didn't believe him. "That's all?"

"I already told you. Thwarting others from weaseling their way into your attentions is a high priority. With a trump card, I can't lose, and you'll be left alone, at least until the next harvest feast. But it is also true that there will be many injuries requiring cleaning and I spent the time I usually would use for making poultices and balms, meditating in preparation of the Kaeldiri-Nahiga. So take the second round already!" He urged.

Couldn't lie, his excitement rubbed off on me a bit. I raised my hand and called out, "I claim the second round of matches."

After much discussion, Veldandy claimed third, Ildaara fourth, and Svarda fifth rounds. That settled, Ninian explained to us, "Now the men must choose which round they want to wager themselves, as they are allowed one battle per harvest. Win or lose, after that round finishes, so are they for the season. For any of you maidens already with a confirmed suitor, he will battle all who wish to vie for your hand. For the others, they will battle each other. Last one standing has the tribe's permission to pursue and protect you."

Fire pits in the very center of the feasting area were buried and the land smoothed over, revealing red-brown earth in a circle forty foot across, and lined with the fire pit rocks along its perimeter. This was the Kaeldiri-Nahiga ring, where all fights would take place. Stepping outside the perimeter disqualified one. On the north side of the ring, a small dais with throne like chair sat under a golden canopy. As Bykani claimed the first round of fights, she sat in the chair of honor as the rules were explained by the Great Crone. The rest of us made due with log chairs under a blue canopy, next to the golden canopy. Here, we sat in order of the rounds we decided upon.

The Hunter Bykani favored served as her champion. All who wished to court Bykani had to defeat the champion. Although all the brawls were between Helmed Hunters, none wore their leather armor, let alone helms.

All those with an eye for Bykani lined up along the perimeter, as a single Hunter stood in the center of the ring, wearing nothing but a leather loincloth. His muscles rippled under the morning sun, and one could see very clearly tattooed upon his back a large, woad blue howling wolf.

There were about forty challengers for Bykani. The first one entered the ring, and stood a good fifteen feet away from the champion. Both men took positions as if they were about to pounce at each other; legs bent, body low to the ground, arms out as if to grapple.

Lord Arec called out from the dais with the table, "Start!" and both men within the ring shrugged their shoulders with a lurch and a bright green mist obscured them. Forming at the crown of their heads, in a blink it reached their knees and then hit the ground, pooling around them, swirling the colored mist as if the hunter stood at the center of a whirlpool. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and left in place were over-sized animals; a charcoal gray wolf and a ruby red bull with massive horns. They circled each other, charging, dodging, kicking, biting, goring. Wolf teeth couldn't quite tear into the bull's hide, but he nipped and punctured holes where he could. With an acrobat's grace, the wolf leapt atop the bull's back and tried subduing him by biting the neck. The bull did his best to dislodge the wolf, but the wolf held on for all he was worth until the bull rolled on the ground, forcibly removing the irritant. It worked, until it didn't. The bull, while immense and strong, wasn't as agile or quick as the wolf. While the ox struggled to get to it's feet, the wolf already had him by the throat, the wolf's low growls clear to every one present. The bull stopped and simply laid on the ground in defeat.

Lord Arec's voice echoed around the feasting site. "Match goes to Arsein, acolyte of Rupan the Wolf!"

As soon as that declaration was made, both Hunters in the ring shook their bodies, dispelling their animal shrouds. The man with the Ox tattoo on his back walked toward the small table Cleve had next to the ring, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. His wounds were cleaned by the awaiting healer. Afterward, the defeated hunter dressed.

The champion couldn't leave the ring until the last challenger had their turn, and so the battles progressed. From rams to elk, to river lizards the size of fallen trees, to maned Greatkats and panthers, fellow wolves, and even a python, he fought viciously and tried his best to take out the opponents as efficiently and quickly as possible to maintain his stamina. Blood and sweat ran in rivers from head to toe by the time the first round was done and he walked to Cleve's table.

Bykani removed herself from the throne and came to my side. "Wasn't that exciting? Arsein won so many rounds!"

I didn't care for blood sports, and often searched the crowd, observing people instead. But they had all focused on the battling animals. "Out of all those competitors, he only lost three times. He must truly be strong."

With a smile, Bykani replied, "He is. The Wolf is the animal of loyalty. He told me that as such, his loyalty to his mate is divine." When Arsein finished with Cleve, he dressed and wandered to Bykani's side.

As I had claimed the second round of matches, I stood up and made my way to the throne. As I began to sit, from across the ring, Lord Arec spoke loudly for all to hear. "An unmated maiden awaits. Who seeks to pursue her? Who will fight her champion?"

Men lined up to fight, but my attention was on Cleve as he undressed by his table. He was tall, with wide muscular shoulders, thick arms, slim hips and well muscled legs, all of it though, obscured by the markings covering him. He entered the ring, like others clad in naught but a loin cloth. Whereas the Hunters had woad blue tattoos of their chosen God upon them, Cleve's body was a mass of brands, carvings, and tattoos. Black ink runic tattoos in woad ribbons went from his heels, wrapping around his legs, up his torso crisscrossing four times, to separate and travel down his arms and to his elbows, which ended in thick black cuff tattoos, with woad blue runes. His wide shoulders and back were covered in concentric circles and overlaying geometric patterns, each inscribed with indecipherable runes. The center of his chest, a mass of scar tissue in the shapes of various animals and then tattooed with outlines. It was a lot to take in, and all I could think was of was the pain he must have endured to be covered so, and then bare it to the world because of me.

Once Cleve entered the ring, those who lined up to fight my champion began to leave, unwilling to go against the priest of Sylvianeti. I had as many Hunters as Bykani, and it surprised me that so many were interested in me. But evidently, not interested enough to fight Cleve.

"Aww, come on! Someone at least have the stones to fight me!" Cleve called out to the departing. "Hey Kanos, I know you've wanted to punch me for the longest time. I'll give you a free hit."

A burly black haired man turned and called back with a touch of laughter in his voice, "That is true, but there's no sport when you know you can't win. I want to win, Mouse."

With a big grin, Cleve replied, "Can I sweeten the odds by letting you choose ten Hunters to join you? But I'm only giving you the free punch."

The one known as Kanos retorted, "Not even with the help of all the Hunters in Gaelid Kael, Mouse. But I'll gladly take that free hit."

For some reason, Cleve found this vastly amusing and laughed. "I knew I could count on you."

Kanos didn't waste any time. Before Lord Arec even yelled start, Kanos, like the ram on his back, went to headbutt Cleve, not even cloaking himself in his imprint. Before he made contact, Cleve pivoted. "Please refrain from damaging my face. She likes my face."

Kanos found that funny. "Fine." Calmly, Kanos approached Cleve and asked, "Isn't it a curse needing violence to start your magic?" Then punched him in the gut. "Happy now? Or do you need more to stir your blood, Mouse?"

Cleve stood there, rooted to the earth like a tree. "That was sufficient, thank you. You may want to step back now."

"You must really like her to put yourself through that." Kanos replied over his shoulder as he left the ring.

The circle tattoos on Cleve's back began moving, spinning. They seemed to project off his body to the space around him, twisting, stopping, changing direction and turning again. The runes on his heels began glowing a bright golden-white, snaking their way and illuminating the runic path up his body. A pool of while light formed under his feet and lifted him into the air as large blue shields of light formed around him, each as tall as peach trees, arranging themselves into a tower with him encased within, runic inscriptions of white light evident on the shields. Once he was encased, the earth rumbled in the distance, as though it was about to tear apart by a stampede of a thousand horses galloping straight toward us.

From the earth came a terrible roar, and from the glowing mass of scar tissue on Cleve's chest, a black dragon with a green belly clawed its way out of the pillar of magical shields. Cleve bellowed in pain as the dragon emerged, and once free of the light tower, it grew in size until it filled the battle ring. Another roar came from the blue tower of light as Cleve bellowed again, the sound of it reverberating through my body. Then the sky darkened as if night came early. Lightning struck the light tower, and we all gasped in shock. As the sky lightened, one could see dozens of immense roqberds circling overhead, each much larger than Aelyskay. Each flap of their wings brought strong gusts of wind, flapping loose clothing and the canopies overhead. The roqberds then landed on the mountains surrounding us, each as tall as trees in the forests back home. It looked like a warhorse and rider could fit down their gullets whole, and that we wee humans were naught but gobbets to them. Then, they each screeched, filling the air with their cries before taking off again, blowing dust about the grounds as they flapped their wings and rose high into the sky.

Quiet overtook all the bystanders as they sat in shocked amazement at the sight before them. The dragon roared and green fire blew from it's sharp-toothed mouth, upwards and avoiding those witnessing the marvel. The black scales on its head and back reflected sunshine, which just seemed to make it much more ominous, while the silvered horns on its head gave a regal touch, like a crown. With a flick, it's dark wings opened, spanning the feasting area and shading the people below. It then roared so loudly people covered their ears. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched Cleve encased in the light tower, the dragon's body and tail curling around the tower, as if to guard it. Cleve's eyes were closed and he hovered in the air, still.

The shields making up the light tower began to whirl around Cleve, shifting their positions. A golden phoenix emerged from the tower's top and circled overhead, it's long tail burning with an everlasting fire which reflected off its metallic feathers. A single feather fell out while it flew above me, and as it fluttered to the ground, the fire which engulfed it ceased, leaving a gold and copper feather laying on the ground. The dragon shrank in size a bit, and picked the tail feather up delicately and held it out to me. The dragon had Cleve's eyes, and so when I reached out to take the feather from the huge claw, it was Cleve I saw, not the dragon offering it. The phoenix feather looked tiny when held by the dragon, but in my hands, it was longer than I was tall, and as wide as both my hands. Then Cleve's words from this morning about peacocks and peahens popped into my mind. Couldn't suppress my smile or blush.

Whispers of Sylvianeti were followed by loud cheers and hoots of delight. After a minute or so, the blue shields surrounding Cleve faded which led all the animals he conjured dissipating as well. The white pool of light faded and he fell slowly to the ground before standing tall and opening his eyes. They glowed bright blue fading into silver which didn't dissipate as he left the ring, heading toward his portable ring-side apothecary.

With a start, I snapped my mouth shut. I now knew what Ninian meant. Hunters became the animal whereas Cleve controlled what he brought forth, which were no mere woodland critters. It was a frightful display. No wonder he was so smug about his claim on me going unchallenged.

With that over blessedly quickly, I surrendered my throne and returned to the log chairs under the dais, passing by Veldandy as she made her way to the throne. Men lined up, and like the match for Bykani, quickly became a bloodbath. As she had no champion, Lord Arec named four men at a time to brawl it out, melee style.

Uninterested in the accepted violence, I asked Ninian if I could go assist Cleve and leave the phoenix feather in her care for now.

"You can try asking him, but there's no guarantee he'll let you do anything. But I could be wrong. As your round is over, you are free to seek out whomever. Just return to the Maidentree by the time the moons set. Make sure to eat something, too. I'll put your feather in your chamber."

Bykani heard that and smiled. "Really? We can go off now? Then I must go congratulate Arsein and the others."

"Don't praise those he lost against within his hearing, child. If Arsein has your attention, give it to him fully. The others can wait until the Autumn Rites, where they will be your champions. Or you can carry your affairs out of the eyes of others. Not all courtship is so public, but for the coming of age one, to get new females assimilated into the tribe. All females are precious, and they must be shown they are worth protecting. You have witnessed your champion fend off others. Be proud of his prowess."

Bykani nodded and skipped off, while I headed toward Cleve's table. He stood, arranging things upon the table, such as an ewer and basin, a pile of linen bandages, felted cotton fluff pads, bottles, crocks and jars of various herbs and concoctions, fine metal needles and spools of thin sinew. Baskets sat under the table, one was empty, the other full of bloodied cotton and bandages.

Cleve busied himself with cleaning a chest wound of a Hunter that lost. When he finished, the Hunter arose and left. While Cleve's back was to me, I said, "Well, I now understand why you held the attitude you did. That was astounding to witness."

Cleve whirled around and smiled. "Impressed you, I hope." We stood an arms length apart, but his very presence filled my view.

"Very much so. And you can control the beasts? How does that work?" I asked with much more wonder in my voice than I intended.

His smile faded a bit and he replied, "My body becomes a portal for them to enter the physical plane from the Ethers. I see what they see, we share thoughts, and I can control them to a point. I saw you smiling."

"Smiling? When?"

"When you received the golden feather."

Ahh yes. "The dragon had your eyes."

Cleve nodded. "I saw what it saw, and so I saw you."

"Are the beasts your army?"

"My army?" he repeated. "No. When I meditated, I asked the Gods for what was needed to win the battle for your heart. They gave me what they felt was best to use. Were we going into battle against a foe, the Gods would bestow for our use beasts that would best fit the needs for the time. With such guidance victory is assured. That said; no matter what, dragons are impressive, are they not?"

"I would have to agree." Cleared my throat before asking, "Is there anything I can do to help you?" I asked, gesturing at the table. "I can cut bandages or do some other task."

Cleve frowned as he surveyed the table and then replied, "Would you be offended if I asked you to simply keep me company?"

Shook my head. "Not in the least." I'm not trained as a healer, and if there are peculiarities like bandage width or something, I'd rather not foul up the workings by my ignorance.

And that is how I passed late morning, into late afternoon, as the battles continued. Cleve took this opportunity to teach me first aid and basic herbs for healing, using potent onion mashed with salt, pungent garlic, thyme, and honey to clean the wound, before pouring a clear liquid from an obsidian flip top jug. It seemed to be the cure all for any flesh wound but the deepest punctures. All those seeking treatment said nothing to me, never even looking in my direction. It was an immense change from yesterday. Can't say I minded it much, though. However, a dark feeling wormed its way back into my guts, this time not from nervousness, but a combination of the dream last night and wholesale fighting today not sitting well with me.

"What is that liquid you pour upon the wounds? It causes the skin to mend so quickly."

"It's only Waters of the Mother. Blessed holy water with healing qualities."

When the last Hunter finished receiving treatment, Cleve turned and said, "I'm going to clean up and put all this in back in the shop. Do you mind waiting here? They'll disassemble the ring and form fire pits again."

"I don't mind, but I think I might take a long walk. My stomach isn't feeling so well today and I think it's because the nightmare and that violence not easily forgotten among all the brawling."

He quirked his lips and said, "Well, if you want to come along, I can make something to settle your stomach again."

I asked quietly, "Do we have to come back to the feast?"

His eyes lit up before dimming. "That depends. Do you want to come back here?"

"Not really. I don't want to be around a lot of folks today if I don't have to."

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged, but I still need to speak to the Elders about your vision. Have you decided whether you will join us?"

I drew in a deep breath. "Yes, I will join. I'm sure there will be questions for me. But after that, I demand respite."

"I can't guarantee you that, but I'll try my best." He pulled out the empty basket and started packing it with the supplies he brought.

With a wave of his hand, a shimmering circle opened, revealing the inside of his apothecary. With little care, he deposited everything through the portal before closing it.

"Now with that done, let us seek out the Elders." Cleve said.

I felt nervousness bubbling up in my stomach. "Do you think it will take long?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. It might, might not. Bellanian will be interested, for sure. Grandmother, too. For those seeking the esoteric during dreamtime, the dose is close to twenty drops, so the six you took shouldn't have given you the effect it did, especially if you don't carry the Blot within you. Or, I'm utterly wrong and you had an incredibly vivid nightmare with no significance whatsoever. I'm open to being wrong."

"What's the significance of my dream, if it's not actually a nightmare?"

After a moment of thought, Cleve answered. "That I'm not wholly sure about."

In silence we trekked across the rambunctious feasting grounds. The smell of food cooking, the dancing, singing, drums and pipes echoing on the summer evening breeze, it surrounded us and only made me feel more isolated.

We reached the fire pit the Elders occupied, with the exception of Lord Arec, who remained at the table upon the dais. The Great Crone and the Mother of the Maidentree sat in log chairs, each holding a skewer of sizzling hot meat and vegetables. I awaited behind Cleve as he waited for them to acknowledge his presence.

"Hail Cleve Gryvas, and the Prize Found High."

"May I trouble you for some counsel?" Cleve asked the Great Crone.

With a withered smile pulling at her lined face, Bellanian replied, "You may sit at my knee once again, young one, and ask what you will."

Cleve sat down upon the ground and I followed suit. I didn't mind the smell of freshly churned earth in the least. Once we sat, Cleve explained my reaction to the tincture. I focused on the fire and glowing red coals yet could feel the Elders eyes on me. It was not a comfortable sensation.

"And what is it you seek, counsel-wise?" Ninian asked.

I didn't wait for Cleve to answer and interjected, "Was it a vision or nightmare I had?"

"Do you recall names of people or places? If there is record of those names, we can proceed from there."

"I don't recall what I was called, besides sister. Cities were named. Gaelid, uh, Talei. Gaelid Lauk. Sylvianeti was mentioned too. The only person's name I recall is a woman with bright blue eyes named Ziska. There was a sacred forest and a blue sand beach."

Ninian's eyes gathered tears. Softly she said, "You have the Blot, child."

I shook my head. "I don't know how that would even be possible. I am Mih'Noushi, not Kaeldish."

Bellanian's gravelly voice said with great clarity, "The cities you named were once holy temple cities to the north and east of us. Kaeldisia used to be a thriving society spanning the whole of this island we live upon, and every citizen, freeborn. Invaders came from across the eastern sea. They razed every village they came upon, killed off the women they didn't enslave. Then those who escaped before the raiders reached them, came here for refuge. What you see now," She said with a sweep of the arm, revealing the feasting grounds filled with hundreds of people, "Are the last of the descendants of a once great civilization. The invaders killed off the men and boys. If they kept the girls for breeding, or if some remote villages escaped their attentions and remained untouched, then it would make sense that you carry the Blot within you, as all who were born of ancestors to this land carry Kaeldish blood to some degree. Kaeldish customs wiped out, and replaced with the invader's wants. Isolated as we are here, we know that division works best at keeping a population under control. The rest of the island is divided, no longer united under Kaeldish influence."

"My ancestors were Kaeldish?" I asked, surprised. Don't know why it made my heart pound and head ache, but it did. The sensation of something stirring deep inside twisted through me. Were the Mih'Noushi just displaced Kaeldish? It blew my mind to think that a possibility.

"Unless you descend from the Renmaegus or the slaves they brought from overseas, then yes. It's incredibly rare for the Blot to be present in those not raised among the Mother Mountain and nurtured by her waters, though. In ancient times, all who served the Gods came here for training and returned to the temple cities. Now everything outside the barrier is in Renmaegus hands. However, there have been other Mih'Noushi that had the Blot thick in their blood before you."

The hairs on my arms stood up at that revelation. "What's the significance of my nightmare vision? Will I have more? Because I'd rather not." It was upsetting that my seeking sleep unleashed this upon me instead. Yet another perspective change I must accustom myself and entertain.

The Great Crone pursed her lips. "This is a conversation better suited at the Enclave, child. We may continue this conversation there later, if you would like."

What I would like are some answers. "Okay. But one last thing... what I dreamed actually happened?"

Bellanian nodded. "It did. The one who escaped on the fisherman's boat was able to reach a temple, and alert the Elders across Kaeldisia of the invasion. Her escape is the stuff of bard song, and those who aided her, heroes."

"Are there records of the event? Or is it passed down by word or song?" I wanted to know more. It burned within me, the want to understand how this all happened and my part in it. Was my vision a reason why the Great Crone refers to me as the Prize Found High or is that moniker based solely upon me being found up high in a tree?

Cleve spoke, "There are ample records. With the Great Crone's permission, I'll go through them and research this event. Can you read?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I can understand some, but that was by the Mih'Noushi elder's orders, that we all be able to read the proclamations posted in the village square. I do not know beyond the basics of the common tongue."

"It's a starting place. With permission, I will teach you High Kaeldir. It's the language used before the Renmaegus set foot on these shores and the language of record keeping."

Bellanian nodded. "You have permission. The records cannot leave the Enclave, however. As for you, Prize Found High, you have options. You were always Kaeldish, and the Renmaegus lied to your ancestors, giving them a false identity to enslave them. Were I in your position, I would ask young Cleve for the Tears of Gahtri. With that potion, you will experience visions and revelations which will in time answer your questions."

Cleve shook his head. "I do not consent to giving this one the Tears of Gahtri."

His quick reply bewildered me. "I don't even know what it is. Why do you not consent?"

Cleve's bright green eyes bored into mine. "Gahtri the river lizard is the God of Death. The Tears of Gahtri is a potion that invokes delirium, visions, and hallucinations of past and current lives in all timelines, wherever our soul essence has experienced through the ages. The true benefit comes after the potion wears off and one feels clear. Light. Healed. As though all the revelations and hurts had a purpose, like a hammer forging red-hot steel to give it shape. The hammering is not pleasant to experience, but afterward, feels like it was worth it... if the sword doesn't shatter during the quenching. I don't consent to make it for you because you've been through enough. You don't need to go through worse, at least not now. Find respite and peace. Heal from your recent hurts and then, if you wish, take the path laid by the Tears of Gahtri."

His softly said statement made my heart beat fast. "But there is healing at the end? Would this kind of healing allow for sleep?" Sleep was the goal. If I could only fall into blessed slumber, I would consider myself content. There's much I can tolerate when tempted with the promise of unbroken sleep.

Ninian spoke up, sniffing. "There is healing but it comes at a cost of facing and knowing the unknown, first. Some handle that better than others. If Cleve will not make the potion, I will, if you choose to travel that rocky path. You do not need to make the decision today."

Cleve addressed the Great Crone. "You fail to mention to her that the Tears of Gahtri isn't for most folk. Its use is strictly for initiation into the priestly class. Why do you fail to tell her that?"

The Great Crone narrowed her eyes and stared at Cleve's frown. Her irritation at him engraved in the lines in her aged face. "Would you have the sight, and see the things I have seen, Mouse. I refer to her as Prize Found High. That in itself denotes an elevation in status more than a mere harvested girl. You may treat her as a harvested lass to woo, but you err gravely in doing so. She has exceeded every expectation, and you cannot convince me that the Last Warrior's prophecy hasn't finally come to pass, Blessed is She. Hear my words well, and verify them in your research my boy; the Prize Found High is none other than the Last Warrior come back home. Her words tomorrow night under the watchful eyes of the full moons will verify my vision; that all things she shall do are driven by the Kaeldish Blot she needs to acknowledge and accept. Denial of the Blot will bring her naught but misery. She will require the Tears of Gahtri. You may be there to support her, or you may go find another to attach yourself. You will either give this one your all, or you will give her nothing. There is no middle ground. The power you wield serves a purpose in tandem with the Great Plan. You will either serve this clan wholeheartedly or not at all. This is my final word."

Cleve took a deep, slow breath and bowed his head in defeat. "As you wish."

Bellanian addressed me, her voice tempered somewhat. "Have you any questions?"

Oh, did I have questions. They bubbled forth, but I only focused on the one I mentioned earlier. "May we meet later so you can finally explain significance of my vision?"

She harrumphed. "I just did when I chided young Cleve. Did you not hear?"

"I do not know who the Last Warrior is or what the Great Plan means, nor will I assume."

She reached out and grabbed my chin, drawing her face close to mine, much gentler than the first time we met. "When invaders came, they thought only the men who shape shift possessed magic. Women carry the Blot inside them; it is an inner magic for the self, rather than showy for others. The Blot allows us to pass information to one another in the Ethers and Dreamscapes. The greatest of the women warriors hid in the Ethers, speaking with her enslaved sisters, and made plans for undoing what the Renmaegus wrought upon us. Through the Ethers, the captives whispered in the ears of their captors, influencing them to create conditions which we could take advantage of when the time came. The memory of these conditions lives within all who carry the Blot.

"You will awaken, you will remember, and you will fulfill your duty." She let go of my face, studying my reaction. "You are the Prize Found High. You are no mere lass, nor will I allow you to be treated as one. Mark my words, Ghyskian of the Mih'Noushi, the Prize Found High, sister of Kallon Goddess of Death, for this is a prophetic vision given to me: tomorrow you will take a most blessed name for your own; no one will tell you what it is, but the Blot inside you will speak out for all to witness. There will be great rejoicing, and you will find yet another status. These are my words for you to remember when your destiny takes you for a ride."

I stifled the laugh I felt bubbling inside, a laugh born of incredulous skepticism. "I am me, and no other. What if I'm not a Prize Found High, but just a girl who climbed a tree?"

With a knowing smile, Bellanian replied, "You will not disappoint me. It is assured as the sun and moons dancing across the skies."

It didn't feel like an order, but an observation. "Are you absolutely certain?" I questioned.

She nodded. "I am certain. You are now dismissed. Seek me out tomorrow morning if you wish to pursue the path laid before you. I will answer your questions then. In the meantime, tonight, call out in your heart to your beloved ones and ancestors. They will guide you. Have faith in their love for you."

With that, Cleve bounced up and held out a hand for me to take as he pulled me to my feet. I dusted the soil from my clothes and stood straight, before bowing to the Elders and walking away from them with more haste than intended. Cleve caught up to my side and said, "Want to take a short cut to my shop?"

"As short of a shortcut the table and baskets took?" I jested with him, trying to dispel the strange feeling that overcame me at the Crone's parting words. I would rather focus on Cleve's magic than the expectation Bellanian held in her eyes. It still amazed me to think of what all he could do with that power of his. A part of me wanted that ability for myself. Another part knew better than to covet what one cannot control.

"Just as short, although I would prefer to open the portal out of sight of others. Don't need to fuel the fires of speculation of us excusing ourselves so publicly." He made for the treed archway into the concentric ringed orchards before pausing and flicking his hand. A blue-green mist twinkling with gold and silver formed and opened into the apothecary shop, the wall of drawers clearly visible. Cleve stepped through and held out a hand to me. "It's safe."

I stepped through, feeling tingly all over, as though I waded through a shallow creek of energy. We were behind the counter in Cleve's shop, almost standing on the baskets and table placed earlier. The mist evaporated, leaving us facing each other, while Cleve still held my hand. I withdrew from his grasp and said, "That is quite the shortcut."

"I like to think so. Look at the ground."

I did as he requested and saw a circle of glowing runes inscribed on the floor. "That is the key to the door. It receives the magic I send out, connecting me to this spot and opening the doorway portal. If you prove to have an aptitude for wielding mana, I suggest making such a door into your personal space. It's invaluable for quick escapes after awkward moments."

My nose picked up the wafting scent of food cooking. "What is that I smell?"

Cleve smiled. "I promised you soup yesterday, did I not? It's been simmering all day. Have you found your appetite?"

Once he asked that, I realized the odd feeling in my stomach had faded while talking to the Elders. "A bit. Although I have to admit that I did not expect the conversation about the tincture to go in that direction. Do you know what the Great Crone was referring to? The prophesy?"

Cleve busied himself emptying the baskets from earlier in the day, burning all the bloody bandages and cotton fluff in his small clay stove. "I don't know the specifics. Only that the last warrior born from the Mother Mountain plotted the fall of the Renmaegus, and was to be reborn to carry it out. In part, that's why girls are harvested, beyond rebuilding our numbers. It's viewed as bringing Kaeldish girls back into the fold, one of which is supposed to help supplant the Renmaegus hold upon Kaeldisia. But if the harvested girls were told that, they'd think us mad."

"I don't know what to think... Are the Tears of Gahtri supposed to awaken those memories, if I possess them or the Blot?"

"Supposedly. When I drank the potion, it was as though I could see all my lives, transparent and stacked atop each other, where I could see certain traits and people that carried through all the lives play out before me, like watching yardage being woven on a massive loom. Each lifetime, a thread, while behaviors were the warp and weft, if that makes sense. Good and bad. It's hard to explain. That said, I'd make the argument that the Ghost Pipe Flower tincture has a similar ability as well, as evidenced by the vision you had." Cleve washed his hands with an ewer of water on the counter, and then lifted the peaked lid of the three-legged pot atop the clay stove, before giving the pot's contents a good stir. "The choice is yours, whether you take the potion or not. They cannot force you to take it. But I wouldn't put it pass the crone to trick you into consuming it. She serves the greater good, so feelings and thoughts from others don't enter her equations for getting things done. Consider yourself warned."

I know that the Elders wanted me to take it to fulfill their agenda, but I wanted to know if there would be a benefit for me. "Do you think afterward, my sleep will get better if I did take it?"

He frowned. "I wouldn't recommend doing it for sleep. Odds are the visions would keep you awake until you processed it all. That was my experience with the potion. For a few hours after the effects wears off, one will feel energized. So it's a do it in the morning sort of thing, if you want sleep. And even then, no guarantee that it'll actually help induce sleep. Are you thinking about it just to get some rest?" Cleve looked upset at that notion.

I hopped up and sat upon the counter to help create some space between us. "At this moment, I don't know what to think. Because so much has changed for me in so short a time. Ever experience that? I feel... blah. I start looking forward to the future, only to have that future shift on me simply because I was found in a dumb tree. All future considerations tainted by the fact I chose to climb a tree that night." I heaved a sigh. "For a long time, I wanted to return your father's knife to him by burying it in his chest. That thought kept me going, and now I don't even want the damn thing. I had hoped to meet with Kallon since we had the same fate, or so I thought. I just don't know what to feel or how to feel, except to feel broken. And that doesn't sit well because I know I'm not. But I feel that way. Do I even make sense?"

"You aren't broken. You are in a period of transition, and you will feel all sorts of things. The fact you are telling me indicates you handle things in a healthy manner. You don't self-harm, you don't talk down about yourself, you aren't being unreasonable. In all fairness, you aren't the only one who has thought of placing pointy things in my father's body; he made many enemies within the city and far beyond. But I understand you. Although not the same, I've gone through a similar loss. The girl killed a few years back by herbs from my apothecary was my twin sister, and the one who gave them to her was my best friend since childhood. I lost my sister and best friend on the same day and I felt broken at the loss. My cousin, failed to protect the one he was pursuing, and she was mauled to death during an outing. My cousin was the only other close friend I had, as so many of the boys looked up to my father and emulated him and his contempt for me. Time heals, Ghyskian. Give yourself time, and new perspectives will emerge to offer a lesson instead of blatant hurt. My lesson was to keep my herbs locked away from those who think they know what they're doing. Perhaps your lesson is that trees can't guarantee safety, or when one door closes, another opens, if you're open to exploring unknown potential."

His revelation stunned me. "Maybe one day we can tell each other about our sisters." I swallowed back the knot in my throat and sought to find a different topic to focus upon. "Can you tell me what the rebirth ceremony consists of? That's tomorrow night, isn't it?"

"It is. Once the silver moon rises, the feasting grounds will silence. Maidens brought forth from the Maidentree, escorted under guard to the Mother Mountain. The maidens will be led inside the ceremonial chamber, given a potion, prayed over, and the torches extinguished. From there, they will seek their path. You know the rest."

"What does the potion do?"

"Enhances vision in the dark, mostly."

The way he drawled his answer caught my attention. "Mostly?"

"There's a couple of ingredients that enhance mood, too. Helps prevent fright in the dark."

"And what of, afterward?"

"After all have exited the Mother? Feasting to welcome our newest tribe members. Tomorrow morning, there will be allotments made to each of you, a home and base dowry. When the feasting is over, you will go to your new home. Any males lucky enough to have permission to pursue will accompany."

"What now? So you'll be going with me to my new home?"

"All Maidens need a protector and guide. But fear not. Protectors stay out of the bed chamber unless invited." Cleve smiled in a way I found provoking.

"What of those who have yet to give permission to a male?"

"The Kaeldiri-Nahiga determines who will protect her, in that case; last one standing is first one in the door."

Suspicion sank into my bones at a realization. "Is that why you said last night that everything changes after the Summer Rites? Because you'll be staying with me?"

His face flooded red. "In part. And if you don't want me there, then I won't be there."

"I will verify this information with your grandmother." I warned him.

"You go right on ahead." His confident demeanor taunted me. "All Kaeldish men must act with honor, whether or not he carries an imprint. Never forget that."