Chapter One: Sticks and Stones

Chapter one is to fill you with questions. Chapter 2 will answer all your questions.

Beneath sheets of flooding ice laid jagged rocks and frozen matter lacking exposure to the rays of the continuously exploding sun. It remained there, unanimated, until finally the core of the earth grew so restless that it cracked the shell of the surface and let out toxic blasts of gas and rock so hot, it lost all form.

As the cosmic body began to melt from the center out, the warmth stirred things up, relieving the surface of an icy umbrage. More gas release, more heat from the star. The world began to have an odor, it smelled like death, defecation and procreation, almost fishy. Oceans recovered their volume and land laid bare to the elements in the newly established atmosphere. From one bold cell to another the planet began to awaken. Growing strong, reaching up towards the source; the land of raw minerals grew lush with flourishing and ripe vegetation. Soon creatures from the oceans craved more than what the water gave them. They absorbed essential energy from the rays of sun and nibbled on the greenery that fell into the ocean, the slick moss that slathered the coast. Eventually, one by one, the hunger forced life to seek out new places in order to find what it needed to survive. First, flopping onto land to suck on the high altitude grass, then crawling with clumsy coordination, life began to adapt. And, as such, life continued, and continues, to adapt in growth in order to find the next best source of energy, to move on from the outdated menu of the past and challenge the elements to find new strength and new vitality.

******

The pungent smell of human rot and sickness refused to escape her robes. She plunged them into the water another time and rubbed the hide into the mossy bed of the river stream, coating it in the gooey slime that adhered to the stones she brought them out of the water again, wrung them and brought them to her nose, "I'd rather smell like a creature of the mud than stink of green pus and fever", she thought to herself. Satisfied that she couldn't detect the scent of weakness and pain on her robes she flung them over a low branch in a stream of sunlight pouring through the windows between the trees. She hung her skirt and vest made of a rough hide. Roughly sewn together was the dried flesh and fur of a beautiful beast that her mother hunted especially to make robes for her daughter. Vina noticed the sun sparkle against the the grain of her hung garments. Her dry heart filled with gratitude. She wrapped her pouch around her bare body and turned her direction to the ground scanning for more familiar seeds and bushes for the tribes next meal.

Vina toed around shrubs, puddles and low branches keeping her eyes in wide focus, scanning everything, looking for something familiar, new, or helpful. She didn’t wander far from where her clothes were hanging, keeping the creek within vision, her bare skin was scratched and pricked by low branches. She walked slowly to protect her exposure. Her eyes hunted for more of the berries that soothed the stomach, and anything safe that will build strength. She was prepared to follow the creek south, down  to the valley and past the water cliff where she would be able to easily fish. But because of the growing fatigue of the tribes people, day trips were reduced and the trip to fish would require two days.

Vina explored a path of tall grass that swayed in the breeze, a tall stiff grass that Vina had never seen grow in such rocky land. The grass bed had a cool, damp floor of the lightest green, so light it was almost yellow. She let her fingers play with the stems, they bowed over as she made her way through. The tall grass was a mixture of yellow blades of straw with wispy ends that surrounded a tiny pod. The blades of grass stood stern in the wind but were made flimsy by Vina’s touch. It tickled her tiny self.

Vina grabbed hold of the stalks and pinched out the pod, releasing tiny buds, the size of her pinky nail. She put it in her mouth and chewed. They lacked flavour, in a good way and, had a satisfying texture. She examined the rest of the straw with a with scrutiny wrinkling her brow. She grabbed another, popping out the bulbs but instead of eating them she put them in a small pouch from her bag. She filled the pouch and began filling another with a sense of sudden urgency. She started ripping entire stalks, filling her bag completely. Only mildly confused by the intense mood change, she quickly and silently exited the grass and returned to the creek. Vona grabbed her clothes, looking over her shoulder a couple times. Her robes had hardly dried but she threw on her tunic hung the vest over her arm and wrapped her skirt around her waist while running back to camp the opposite way she came. without looking behind her she sensed movement in the place where she had previously stood naked. She picked up speed, using the balls of her feet to maneuver between the roots and jagged stones without a sound. She bounced between the gaps between dense rocks, a complicated knot started to twist in her throat. She felt the sudden need to cry. She swallowed her unexpected grief, assuring herself she would consider it later.

She reached the edge of where her people built shelter, a small circle of tents made from trees and fur with a smoking pile of wood protected by small wall of stones in the center. Their numbers had dwindled now to the point where many had entire shelters to themselves when they used to be shared by multiple families. She crept up behind one of the shelters and peered through the branches, she heard serious voices, one was unmistakably her father’s. She couldn’t make out words, only tones. They were not happy. They were not angry. they were frustrated and deeply scared. She inhaled deeply with her eyes closed and prepared herself for confrontation sicne she had been away from the site for too long. With a dubious air of innocence she entered the communal grounds. She approached her father from behind, slowly, she could decipher the words he was speaking. She heard a couple (time, options, various apologies) before the man he was talking to, a previous hunter, noticed Vina  and her father turned around. Vina prepared herself for a scolding, she disappeared without warning again and she knew her father hated when she did that. But contrary to her preparations her father's eyes met hers with a warmth that felt misplaced and insincere.

“My daughter, I was wondering where you were. you found more food? wonderful, bring it to the ladies and they will sort it.” Her father wiped several beads of sweat off his face.

“Have you been working hard father? You look tired” Vina replied, ignoring her father's request. He was lying to her about something, or more so, he wasn’t telling her something.

“I am always working hard” he smiled

“You are wearing a blanket under your robes, are you cold? The sun is high today and the air is temperate. What made you break a sweat?” She questioned, looking at her father and then the man he was with, asking both for an answer. The hunter cleared his throat and declare he would leave them alone. Vina’s suspicions grew, the knot reformed inside of her.

“Why is he leaving?” she insisted

“There is a lot to do” her father replied, “I have lots to do too, you need to bring this...grass to the ladies. I hope it is filling, we are all very hungry” Khosro began walking away.

“Well if you let me get some fish-” Vina argued following him.

“The trip is too long and we cannot afford to have another able body go missing or injured” Khosro interrupted with finality.

“I’m not hunting, im just catching fish, they don’t fight back there is no danger, please let me!” she pleaded, but her father turned to look at her finally with eyes that she recognized, eyes of authority,

“I said no.”

Khosro continued in the direction of his shelter and Vina followed. When they entered their small home she dropped her seeds and pulled her father’s arm,

“What is going on? why do you feel so cold?” his skin felt dry and void of heat

“I am fine, please just do what I told you” he set down on his bed and wiped his face with a blanket, clearing it of newly repopulated sweat. Vina kneeled down in front of him, “look at me”. Khosro, a man of extreme mass and authority, looked at his daughter, honestly. His eyes gave him entirely away.

“you're sick, too?” Vina asked with the intonation of a question but the tone of dread. Khosro dropped his eyes.“Since when? when did you feel the fatigue?” Vina asked hurriedly, the knot tightening her chest constricting.

“Many days ago, I can’t remember” he replied

“That’s too long” she mumbled to herself.

“Vina, i didn’t tell you because there is nothing that can be done. we are sick and we dont know why, if i told you you would have just started to worry and act frantically...like you are right now” as he said this vina was busy going through her few possessions, thinking rapidly of something to help her father warm up internally. She ignored his remark about her frantic behaviour and told him she would make him tea, “it helped many regain their heat. it should help you too. I will make you more though. And you need to eat. Please take these” she dropped her bag of straw and seeds on Khosro’s bed, “I got them for you anyway, please don’t lecture me on sharing. you are our people’s only hope. you are a priority”. Vina exited the shelter before her father could comment with her arms full of random objects she called her supplies. He was definitely a priority, but to whom? Vina deluded herself thinking he was more of a priority for the tribe than just being the biggest priority for her life. She marched over to the pile of wood in the middle of the community. She dropped the rocks and bark down on the ground beside her. She used a sharp and shiny stone to rejuvenate the embers of the dying flame in record time, always one to quickly ignite the fire Vina was burning inside so hot she imagined the flames caught light from her rather than the friction of the stone. She fed the fire enough to reach a satisfying blaze and then made her way to the group of ladies sorting food and rations. Vina asked them politely for bowl with water, the ladies, much older than Vina, looked ather with questions and concern, but instantly lowered their heads in shame and one of them handed Vina a bowl from the pile. “You knew about my father didnt you?” Vina demanded. The women didn’t reply. With furiosity bubbling inside of her Vina stormed off with the bowl in hand yelling back at the women “this is mine now”. The women were too old to ran after her and too filled with guilt to care to argue. Vina declared ownership on the basis that this bowl was going to make the tea to help save her father. she returned to the fire, now with a crowd of cold members sitting around. Vina ignored everyone and focused on one thing at a time. She blurred her peripherals and calmed her mis-tempoed heart. She took the bark from her pile and placed it in the clay bowl of water. She stirred the water with her fingers counter clockwise 8 times.

This bark came from a tree Vina had napped under after the sickness showed itself. Underneath the tree she had a vivid and terifying dream that she was gnawing with thirst at the tree trunk with bleeding gums. She sucked like a leech until a flowing hot juice came spilling out and petal shaped leaves rained on top of her in celebration. When she woke up she found she had dug her nails into the bark of the tree. When she removed them she peeled off the thick sticky skin of the tree. The exposed wood was white and damp, fresh. Feeling simultaneously sorry, grateful and terrified she instinctevly begain peeling off more of the bark, from random places, so not to expose too much of one side, wanting to protect the tree from its wounds. She filled her bag and arms and ran back to camp where she instructed the ill chew on the bark. It wasn’t until the elders started choking from desperately sucking the bark did Vina consider boiling the bark to extract its juices instead. Lessons force mistakes to happen, she couldn’t afford to be wrong, but she couldn’t risk not learning.

Vina placed the bowl on one of the flat stones that surrounded the fire pit. She sat down on her knees and kept her eyes on the bark in the little pool. Not a single thought or sensation dared to trespass her mind as she locked onto the mixture as it absorbed the radiating warmth, which also caused a bigger group of people to gather around the flames. Where it was warm it was safe, safety was the only reason they were together. With her sight keen on the bowl all other matter went blind to her vision, she became unaware of her body, numb to her surroundings, as more and more people left their shelters with their blankets. The sun was falling and Vina kept staring, knowing the bowl was too far from the flame to bubble quickly it took time for the warmth of safety to reach the bark, but Vina wanted this to happen slowly. She wanted to drain every last essence out of the tree hide, determined not to waste anything but more concerned with extracting the highest potency. She was low on bark as it was and didn’t want to strip the tree anymore. There was only one she knew of, she treated it with care. Finally as the sun reached the midpoint of its descent Vina saw the water begin to bubble, with the glare from the orange evening light she saw traces of a seeping substance in the bowl. Her eyes opened with excitement, she realized the crowed that had formed. It surprised her but only for an instant. The people around the fire were sleeping, chatting and weaving clothes. After a count of ten deep breaths Vina felt satisfied that the tea was ready. She used her vest to pick it up without burning her hands and slowly stood up. She looked down at the crowd that had formed and felt a sting of guilt. She only made enough for one. She ignored her emotions and made her way to her fathers shelter where she found him drawing in the dirt with a stick. When he saw her enter he smudged it away with his foot.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Vina placed the tea in front of where her Khosro sat, where his drawing had been.

“Once I start to sleep, I will need to sleep more” Khosro replied certain with his reasoning.

“I made you tea” Vina offered her father the bowl, nudging it closer to him. Her eyes couldn’t meet his, but she studied his face when he wasn’t looking.

Khosro brought the tea to his nose, “this seems stronger than the stuff you made before, did you use more bark?”

“No, I didn’t. You know I wouldn’t do that. Just drink” Vina by guiding his hands to push the bowl closer to his mouth..

Khosro blew softly above the steam rising from the tea and brought the bowl to his lips. He took a slow and cautious sip, determined the liquid wasn’t going to immediately burn him, then the allowed for a larger gulp. As he was about to finish his sip Vina held her hand against the bowl, preventing Khosro from putting it down. He closed his eyes and allowed for the hot water to fall like ambers down his throat. When he emptied the bowl Vina moved her hand, “You need to build your heat and you can’t do that by sipping until it is cool” she explained before he could demand an explanation. Khosro submitted knowing this had soothed the other members in the tribe before. “How do you feel” Vina asked him, studying his face, trying to count the beads of sweat collecting on the edge of his strong brow.

“I feel fine, just like I did before.” seeing that Vina was not satisfied by his answer he added, “I feel much warmer inside. Won’t that make me sweat more?”

Vina looked down, she didn’t really have an explanation for that. All she knew was that when she touched her father's skin, it felt cold to the touch, she agreed the cold sweat didn’t make sense but explained that by sweating he was losing water and that heat was escaping him leaving him with a circulating chill on the inside.

“The idea is that if I can fuel your fire enough it will allow your body to overpower whatever is trying to hurt you” Vina added

“And the others” Khosro reminded her, “Vina, you cannot forget that I am not the only one that is ill here, there are ten other people who show the same signs as me, and the rest are just as weak from not being able to hunt or travel. We need to consider everyone” Khosro stroke Vina’s head of midnight hair.

“I consider them” Vina said meekly, “I just know that without you there is no hope for them”

“You mean no hope for you,” khosro corrected, “the tribe will live on without me, someone else better fit would take my place. It’s the natural order of things. There is order to everything my dear”.

Vina was angered by this. Nothing had order, nothing to her made sense and nothing was predictable, her father never understood this he only saw the world as a set of rules that were never broken. Maybe it is true, maybe the rules are the rules. But maybe there are rules that her father doesn’t even know. Rules that explain her dream under the tree.

Worried by her silence Khosro positioned himself so that he was sitting face to face with Vina, he corrected his posture and his daughter mirrored him. He spoke, “ We need to take care of our people, not just each other. Tonight you will make the same bark tea at the fire for as many others as you can. Use it all. Tomorrow we will get more together. Do you understand?”

Vina silenced her instinctual protests, she told her father she understood and agreed to prepare tea with the rest of the bark.

Around the fire the elders sat together on one side of the circle, huddled together to share the warmth from their inflamed bones. The few children that remained sat on the laps of their mothers and the young women, the older boys and the men sat together completing the circle, but left a space for Khosro.

Vina stepped into the middle and placed five bowls of water on the stone wall surrounding the crackling flames. Each bowl had multiple pieces of bark, Vina tried her best to divide the remains equally, breaking them up into smaller pieces. Exposing more of the tender inside.

“She feels bad for cursing us, she does this out of pity” one of the elders growled from the circle.

“She’s the ghost of her mother” another hissed.

Vina ignored the attacks, she returned to her place, next to the other children. Before the fever arrived the women would chatter and weave together around the nightly fire. But now most of the women were gone. The fever took them first, like a quick snuff. Within three days they had all developed the same cold sweating shivers; the fever that just grows and grows and grows. With them went the babies and smallest of children. The tribe had reduced in size considerably in the last 10 months. Surprisingly the old were resisting the grip of the fever, feeling more fatigue than anything. Vina felt their age and experience made them stronger despite their seemingly brittle state.

The oldest of the tribe, a woman named Maka, started to hum. Her eyes were closed, her hands clapping every fourth beat. The man next to her began rubbing the backs of his nails together, making a quick tempo of friction. Vina felt a sick turning in her stomach. They were about to chant again.

The chanting began after 4 members had succumbed to the hot shivers, and every chant was about the fever. It made Vina feel sick, herself. The ill would chant with their eyes closed and heads loosely swaying in the air. The well would chant the loudest. Vina was expected to participate.

She added to the rhythm with a clapping combination and hoped it would suffice, but she soon noticed everyone was looking at her. Every single person around the fire had two beady bloodshot eyes, looking through the flames directly at her face. Their eyes got wider as they chanted, maal-rah veen-a-shah, thom-li niva-she. Vina brought her knees to her chest and guarded herself from their intensity. She began to shake. But just then a booming voice broke the chant.

“What is happening here?” Khosro demanded as he approached the fire circle from the darkness of his shelter. He stood in his reserved space with his thick fists placed on his hips.

The elders and men looked annoyed. One of them spoke, “Khosro, we recognize your honour and authority but we cannot reconcile for your daughter. You were there when she cursed us, she wished for us all to be sick and die and look what is happening to us! We are falling apart!” the hunter concluded, having lost his breath

 

“Gamen, I do not entertain such delusion. Vina has only tried to help us all since the fever broke out. Never once has she been happy with these circumstances.” Khosro reasoned with his trademark voice of mutual respect.

 

Vina sat there awkwardly as the group continued to talk about her as if she wasn’t there.

 

“She tries to help us, but always fails. Sometimes she makes us worse.” the oldest tribe member, Maka, stated, joining the excluding conversation. “I don’t know if I believe she has the best intentions. We all heard her that night. We heard her words, and now they are coming into fruition.” The woman coughed creating a gurgling noise from her lungs.

 

Vina decided it would be best for her to sneak off while everyone was distracted with her dad.  She internally thanked him for interrupting the chant and slowly pushed herself back from the circle, into the perpetual shadow of night. She considered going to her shelter but decided to keep going in the direction of the nearest rocky peak. It was a clear night, she had a craving for higher ground and dark cover.

 

Vina lunged herself over steps in the bedrock and dodged loose boulders. The trees ended and only short grass hugged parts of the rock way. She kept climbing, eventually losing ear shot of the arguing tribe, she quickened her pace suspecting they would notice her absence soon.

 

Her eyes were wide, it felt like her pupil had taken over her entire eye, starving for light to bounce of anything that might danger her or lead the way. She followed the glow from the moon light as the tree line cleared she was able to scan a wider range. She continued on the incline, keeping a plateau on the hill in sight. By now she was too far for any of the weak tribe members to find her even if they tried. She slowed down her pace and looked up.

 

The sky was so lit up with stars that it still looked kind of blue, a very dark blue. Wherever her eyes looked, they found sparking lights, even in pockets of sky she thought were completely void. The moment she paid attention to the darkness, it lit up.

 

She reached the top of the hill, and stopped at the plateau, a mossy surface with  white flowers growing out of the cracks in the solid rock. Vina noticed the fullness of the moon and basked in its incandescence for a moment more. When she opened her eyes, they were caught by a faint light in the distance. A moving light. Vina squinted and tried to narrow her focus, she couldn’t make out much detail, but the light was definitely a flame and it was being carried by something, or someone. Her mind flipped. Before she let herself absorb the excitement of what she was seeing she took note of the direction the light was travelling, it was heading out into the long gone sunset.  Vina sat herself down, slowly, onto the cool moss, damp from the cold drop of midnight, and watched the flickering orange light move slowly across a valley. Her tribe had been travelling in the same direction for most of her life, always following the sunset. They have been scaling through a range of hills and rocky irregularities for so long. They often took refuge in caves, or in dense trees. But they would only make a proper camp camp after a successful hunt. They’ve been staying in the same camp for 7 moon cycles, they hadn’t made a kill in 9.

 

Vina fought the urge to immediately set  out to follow the light. It was a craving that bubbled in her blood, she wanted to leap from her spot and run after the travelling flame with full speed. She calmed her heart, already in a running state,  with a few thorough deep breaths. She released the burst of energy and replaced it with objectivity. She guessed that the distance between her hill top and the light was a three or four day away, she over estimated to be safe. She swept the horizon for markers, geological indications. But the valley of the travelling light was barren of any tall standing structure, the pocket of dense forest where her tribe was camping ended halfway between them.

 

Vina turned to the east, where the mountain range of earth piled so high it kissed the sky.The sun was around the corner, about to illuminate the world once again. A memory popped into Vina’s mind, of when she was only a few years old, when she was able to walk, but not climb, one of the boys her age would hold her hand as they walked between the women and the men during their travels. That boy was now a hunter who, Vina believed, wanted her dead. She closed her eyes and tried to remember something better. Immediately her mother’s voice echoed in the space between her ears. It was her voice in the morning, during their coldest season. She would carry Vina against her chest, bundled and strapped in a hammock of woven vine, and she would whisper all kinds of things into her ears. She would whisper words of love, or she would think out loud, Vina didn’t always understand what she was saying, but her mother’s voice always had a gentle confidence when she spoke to her. Vina’s heart yelped and she took herself out of the memory. Back in the present she took a final gaze at the travelling light, trying to absorb the scene. She got up and started heading down the hill, back to camp, she hoped her leaving didn’t make a mess of things.

 

Her tribe had made use of a clearing within a densely populated forest. A tree had fallen and cleared whatever was in its way. With a pile of dry wood waiting for them they used trunks and branches to make small tents out of the skin and hide of the beasts they hunted. Nine shelters housed the remaining members. Trees of prickly pine, wet white oak, and thick fragrant cedar dug roots into the mountain and hillsides. The Kakus people made many homes, mostly amongst the rocks, in caves and caverns. But their communal descent into the valley was not voluntary.

A generation ago another people came into the Rock land, a shorter, hairier, darker people. One without a recognizable language or method. They were savage. They aware filthy. They were killers and would consume flesh from any source. Including other people. Vina and her tribe decided to migrate from their damp and frosty stomping ground, into the jagged forest down the mountain range.

Roots and boulders jutted out from the ground, tripping unfamiliar feet.

Author's Note

This is a first draft after much outlining. Excuse silly mistakes, but feel free to correct more complex ones.