Greeting Readers
I hope that all of you are doing well. My classes are picking up, so bills are being paid. Still sad that there are no more writing gigs, but that's life.
Snaffie is getting bigger and bigger and is becoming my little writing buddy. He's also a fan of slow games that don't require too much arm movement.
Anyway, please enjoy this update. I haven't had much time to work on what Saita has been up to, but that will happen at some point.
The villagers had become aware that the old shaman’s house was being renovated by two women they didn’t know. Both had hair like gold; one was significantly older, with grey streaks throughout her hair, while the other had an angry scar across her face.
Rumours quickly circulated about them. The older one walked with purpose and was littered with tribal markings. Some told stories that were easily understood, while others seemed too personal to be understood by those who saw them.
The scarred one was different. She had glared at those who had come to spy on them. She was young, but her single eye seemed to have the weight of years beyond it. She was tiny in comparison to the older woman, her head barely reaching the other’s shoulders, but she seemed stronger. She had no problem creating the energy sleds, which they used to carry fresh timber back and forth for fixing the shaman’s house.
It became clear that the old shaman had died some time back when the hunters found the pair the first time, burying the remains, along with some of the contents of the hut. Many in the village felt guilty at the loss of the man who had nursed many injuries and illnesses over the years, but none more than the young woman who had been meant to be his apprentice.
She was braver than the rest of the villagers, likely because of her guilt. Thus, on a blazing day, she had approached the pair.
“Greetings.” She said softly, raising her hand.
The two turned, neither seeming surprised by the intrusion. The older one’s eyes flicked to the marking on the woman’s wrist, and her face darkened. She knew the mark of a shaman’s apprentice.
“He died alone. Rotted for days, and wildlife tore him apart.” Said the older of the two as she turned back to her work.
The comment stung. It had been said to hurt, and the girl nodded her head slowly. She clutched at an apron pocket with both hands, her head hanging low. She didn’t move from where she was standing.
The younger woman, who seemed to be patching the roof, looked down at her with a glaring eye but said nothing. The scar described by the hunters shone a deep red, and it was clear that some kind of animal had caused the injury. An injury like that should have killed her, but here she was. Was this the gift of the older one? If so, then a truly powerful shaman had come to their village.
“Name!” barked the older woman.
“Mitis.” She said meekly.
“That is a child’s name. What is your adult name? You were an apprentice; you must have an adult name.”
“I have undergone no other change worthy of changing my first name.” she said softly, still looking at the floor.
A few more minutes passed. The younger woman had returned to thatching the roof, but the older woman seemed to have stopped her work. She slowly turned and looked the girl up and down.
“Kay!”
An exacerbated sign came from the roof, and the younger one leapt backward to land next to Mitis. The younger girl stepped back, afraid of what the scarred one would do. But the one named Kay did nothing but look her up and down for a few minutes before she held up two fingers and nodded her head.
Then, without creating any energy constructs to help her, she leapt back onto the roof to continue her work. Mitis clutched at her apron pocket once more.
The older woman slowly smiled, her sneer disappearing from her face. Before her was a young woman, strawberry-coloured hair plaited to the side, with a brighter red furred tail wrapped around her waist. She was wearing a blue dress and slipper-like shoes. Her bright blue eyes had concern in them, but also bravery.
“Silens.” Said the older woman as she tapped her chest.
She then pointed to the one on the roof, “Kay.”
Mitis understood the first name. A child born silent but surviving. It too was a child’s name, but it was said with so much authority that Mitis was sure that there was a secondary name that the new shaman wished to keep to herself. The other name, though, had no meaning. It was more of a sound a bird would make than a name. There hadn’t been a tail. Was this a birth defect? Perhaps the parents had given the child up to the forest, hoping for a swift end to a life that hadn’t been born right. Was that when the scar was caused? Mitis was full of questions.
“I assume your parents promised you to the shaman, but something else got in the way. A husband or partner who doesn’t wish for you to be a shaman?”
It was the most the older woman had spoken. Mitis blushed, realising that the one named Kay had confirmed what the shaman had already suspected.
“I bear a king’s child, and for them to one day take the throne, they cannot be born of a shaman.”
“Unless they can kill at least two older brothers who come before them.” Quoted the shaman.
“This one will be the first. I had to step back. I didn’t mean for the old man to die unattended! I was ill for several days and…” tears came to her eyes. “He deserved better, and I should have been…”
“Enough.” Said Silens as she waved away the rest of the discussion. “It was old age, and he didn’t suffer. The hunters should be able to show you where you can express your regrets.”
Mitis continued to fiddle with the apron pocket, not knowing how to ask her next question. There was a noise on the roof, and Silens looked up in time to see Kay mimicking vomiting.
“Morning sickness, right. Teas.” Silens said as she entered the house.
Mitis looked up at Kay, who seemed to be grinning. She wondered if the woman could talk at all if she was a forest foundling.
“Can you speak?’ asked Mitis.
Kay tilted her head but said nothing. After a few minutes of staring, Kay moved to the other side of the hut to continue thatching.
Mitis' attention snapped back to Silens as the woman stepped from the hut with a small jar filled with dry herbs.
“I don’t have any payment.” Said the woman as she waved her hands in protest.
“You can bring us a few egg layers when you come for more.” Said the older woman as she shoved the jar into her hands. “You will also tell the hunters and village guard that I expect a visit from them before their next patrol. I want a few extensions added to this house, and we can’t do it alone.”
“Of course, Shaman Silens. Right away.”
“It’s good to see the niceties of villagers aren’t forgotten.”
See you all on Friday!
For those of you who have never heard of Fell Dragon you can find Book 1 here, Book 2 here, Book 3 here, and Book 4 here, Book 5 here, Book 6 here, Book 7 here, and Book 8 here
If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I love discussing my books!
As the series continues, it will combine with another book series I wrote. To avoid confusion about what is happening, introductory chapters will be introduced separately so that you don't have to be lost. However, these chapters will contain spoilers. You can find these chapters here:
Races Explained
Banishment
Royal Guard
Saasha’s Direct Family
Saith Characters Recap
Human Characters Recap
Alternate Timeline Brucel
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Haven't read the other parts yet? Follow these handy links:
Part 101>>You are Here>>Part 103
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