Becoming a Warrior

by Moose Tyler

  The family members and witnesses applauded. Amaria glanced at her mother and Telsa. Mother clapped, but her face was emotionless. Telsa was more enthusiastic. She smiled big, and her ovation lasted a few heartbeats longer than everyone else’s.

  The queen waited until the praise died down. “Family members, thank you for bearing witness to these activities. Now, kindly exit, and go and spread the good news.”

  The right side of the room filed out slowly. Many of the mothers waved to their daughters, but Amaria’s mother walked to the exit without so much as a glance. Telsa followed. She looked back and smiled before leaving the chamber.

  When the last citizen was gone, the queen excused the sages. “Thank you for your guidance,” she said. “Your insight is invaluable.” She bowed. “I do request your counsel. Join me in my chambers shortly.”

  The sages bowed and exited through a different tunnel than the family members had.

  When all non-military personnel had cleared the room, the queen addressed the freshly-ranked soldiers. “Warriors, this is your family now. Your mothers, sisters, friends, not even yourself, comes before your duty to your queen.” She walked closer to the edge of the stage. “I do regret that your ceremony has been—,” she paused, thinking of the right word, “—unique compared to ones that have gone before you. There will be no march to Queen’s Cliff.”

  The march was a parade to publicly welcome newly-ranked soldiers. The route spanned from Mesha Cliff to Queen’s Cliff via Southern Bend. Amaria had watched from her yard countless cycles. Her house had a spectacular view, and her mother would invite friends over. The parade parties would include extravagant fire pit roasts and mini fire shows. It had always been a cycle highlight, and Amaria had been looking forward to participating ever since she could remember, but now, the thought of walking half the island made her want to shoot an arrow through her foot so she’d have to sit that one out.

  The queen sighed. “Also, there will be no roast at the Jeweled Dagger.”

  A slight rumble of disappointed came from the warriors on stage.

  “I know,” said the queen. “I, too, was looking forward to the feast.”

  When Sakina had been ranked, Amaria was allowed to attend the roast. It was the only time she’d been inside the Jeweled Dagger. She wasn’t impressed. The chairs were comfortable and the decorations were beastly, but there was a lot of smoke from the meat and red weed pipes and not much ventilation. She also thought it was a tad expensive. What she had eaten at Sakina’s feast was good, but it was free. If Amaria had to pay for the meal with her own arrowheads, she’d opt to eat at the common area instead.

  The queen addressed the soldiers behind her. “As much as we all deserve it, we cannot waste heartbeats on commemorative dinners and marches, not when war is so close to our shores.” She turned to the warriors in line. “We are about to face our greatest enemy, but as guardians of the Great Mother and all things in Her name, we will defeat these savages.”

  The warriors on stage hooted war cries. A few of the freshly-ranked ones joined in, but Amaria did not.

  “We will hoist their heads on spikes and paint our cliffs in their blood, and it will be a celebration unlike any has ever seen.”

  More in the suckling line hooted, but Amaria kept her mouth shut and eyes forward.

  “Until that day, may the Great Mother protect you always.” The queen turned and left the chamber without another word.

  Bria walked to the center of the stage. “Warriors!” She waited two heartbeats. “Move out!”

  Amaria looked at Penelope. “Congratulations.”

  “Oh, Amaria. I’m so sorry.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not the worst thing. At least I passed.”

  “Report to your commanding officer immediately!” Bria shouted.

  Penelope grabbed Amaria and hugged her. “I’ll see you soon,” she said.

  Amaria pulled out of the embrace. “Be safe. I can’t wait to see this horse you won.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “It’s beautiful, for a horse.” She gave Amaria one last hug, and Amaria watched her hurry off.

  The fanfare at the ceremony had not been as glorious as Amaria had hoped. She didn’t feel good about her quest and even worse about her rank and placement. Add in her worries for Sakina’s capture, Telsa and her visions, the threat of war, and now, she had to report to the first southern checkpoint to wait for news. It looked as if Kazi was going to get in her punches after all.

  Bria approached. “Having a nice ceremony?”

  Amaria stood straighter. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Bria smiled for a few heartbeats before her lips distorted into a yell. “I said move out, Suckling!”

  Her voice was loud and vibrated off the chamber walls. Amaria hurried to the exit with Bria following closely behind her, shouting as she went, “Move it! Move it! Move it!”

  Bria berated Amaria until she was out of the chamber and on the path to Great Mother only knew where. Amaria was so tired, deflated, sore, and confused that she couldn’t tell east from west.

  “Left, low rank,” Bria shouted.

  Amaria veered and followed the trail. She couldn’t feel her legs nor will them to go faster. The path dipped before inclining sharply. While ascending, she stumbled.

  “I’ve seen cane grow faster than this. Move it, Suckling!”

  Amaria scurried up the hill but her foot snagged at the top and she tumbled down the other side, landing hard on a bed of rocks. She didn’t have the strength to curse. She rolled over and looked up. Bria was laughing.

  She sauntered down the hill. “On your feet, low rank.”

  Amaria could feel tears swelling like a wave. In only a few heartbeats, they would crest and spill down her cheeks. She forced herself to stand up and dam her eyes. She’d rather eat borrowing worms than have Bria see her cry. Amaria spun around in search of the path and saw Wanje, blocking the trail, watching the scene from horseback. She didn’t look at Amaria.

  “Thank you, Bria, for welcoming Amaria so warmly,” she said.

  Bria’s jeers stopped, and her tone turned timid, on the verge of terrified. “I was told…I mean, I’m supposed to…I have to see to it that—”

  “—I understand completely what you were doing and the reasons behind your behavior.”

  Amaria looked at Bria. Her head was lowered, and her eyes were locked onto the ground. Wanje had been her teacher many moons ago, and it was clear that Bria was still very much her student.

  Wanje dismounted the horse. “Remember when you took your shield? You were so brave. Mauled by a bear. Clawed your way back from the wild land. You were so tired you soiled yourself during the ranking. Do you remember that?”

  Happiness bubbled up inside Amaria’s heart, and it was about to burst and smear a smile all over her lips. She glanced at Wanje, who looked as serious as sickness, before opting instead to stare at the ground.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bria whispered.

  “Yes, taking the shield takes a toll on a warrior’s mind, body, and spirit. That’s why we show mercy, Bria. You were shown mercy. You were allowed to clean yourself up, get a good night’s rest and a hearty meal. You got to spend a few heartbeats with your mother and sister, and you certainly lavished in the celebration.”

  Wanje walked past Amaria but kept focus on Bria.

  “This warrior will have no celebration, no hearty meal or chats by the hearth with her family. Though she didn’t soil herself, I assure you, her hardships are just as worthy of mercy as yours were.”

  Amaria felt the smile simmering again. She pursed her lips and fought it back.

  “The celebration’s been cancelled,” Bria said. “I was just doing what—”

  “—You were told, yes. Well, it seems the Great Mother made other plans. She has decided that we could all use a little mercy. I don’t
know if you have heard, but Niam has died.”

  In all the uproar and whirlwind, Amaria had forgotten that Penelope’s mother had died. Sadness filled her heart, as she thought of her friend. Penelope had finished her quest with valor, only a couple of heartbeats after her mother had taken her last breath. She was a strong warrior, and Amaria was proud to call her sister.

  “No, I hadn’t heard,” said Bria.

  “Under the circumstances, the queen has declared that all activities and duties are suspended until after we return Niam’s body to the Great Mother’s womb. A bird’s been sent to your commanding officer. You’ll get official word when you report back to your post.” Wanje bowed.

  Bria bowed before looking at Amaria.

  “I will take over from here,” said Wanje. “Amaria and I have one more lesson before she is no longer my student.” She laughed. “Not that there aren’t still tests and lessons to be learned after you’ve taken the shield.”

  Bria smirked and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She bowed again before turning and walking back over the hill.

  Wanje looked at Amaria. “Please,” she motioned to the horse, “hop on.”

  Amaria objected. “No, Wanje. I can walk.”

  Wanje smiled. “Appease your old teacher. You’re going to have to ride this horse eventually, now that it’s yours. Might as well be this morning.”

  Amaria couldn’t believe her ears. That was it. Proof that she had hit her head on the rocks when she fell. Bria was probably screaming at Amaria to wake up and get on her feet, but Amaria was trapped in this dream – this wonderful, bizarre, intoxicating dream. “My horse?” She looked at the beast. It was a male and pale grey, gorgeous. “What? Why?”

  Wanje laughed. “Please,” she motioned again, “so we can be done with our lessons.”

  Amaria did as she was told and climbed on the horse. She eased herself into the saddle. It was lined with wool and as comfortable on her backside as sitting in a worn-in leather swing.

  “There’s a full water pouch and something to eat,” Wanje said. “It’s no feast at the Jeweled Dagger, but Sheila did her best to make it special.” She took the reins, turned the horse around, and led it down the path.

  Amaria drank most of the water before looking in the satchel. She fished out the meal and smiled. She offered Wanje a bite, but she declined, so Amaria indulged. Sheila had put a few goodies in the pack, but the bird leg and fish cooked in her delicious red sauce was plenty to squash Amaria’s hunger. She’d save the rest for later.

  The rocking rhythm of the horse’s stride, the softness of the saddle, the clomping of hooves, and Wanje’s humming lulled Amaria until she bent down and rested on the back of the horse’s neck. She closed her eyes and felt her breath fall in sync with the animal’s. After a few heartbeats, her mind went blank, her body caved, and she drifted off to sleep.

  When she awoke, she was lying on a patch of grass softer than a quilt, with the Great Mother watching from above. She looked different than Amaria had imagined, unlike any painting she had ever seen. It was just Her face, outlined in stars. Her hair was moving, as if the wind was blowing, yet there was no breeze, no sound. There was nothing but the Great Mother. The crooks of Her mouth lifted into a smile. Amaria sat up slowly. Her body ached, but it had been cleaned, her wounds had been dressed, and she was wearing her water suit. The piece of leather and the Great Mother’s Spirit Award were still coiled around her arm. She looked in the distance and saw Wanje brushing the horse, now without saddle, as it lapped from the pool. The water was glowing and blue.

  Amaria looked up at the sky. The Great Mother was gone. The stars were there, but they no longer took the shape of Her face. Amaria returned her attention to Wanje, but she had disappeared, too. The horse, still lapping, stopped drinking and looked at Amaria. Water dripped from its mouth. It oozed, broke from the beast’s lips, and plopped into the pool. The plop echoed inside Amaria’s ear for three heartbeats until, finally, the sounds of the nighttime activities one would normally hear while sitting by a remote pool buzzed in her ear.

  “Divine view, isn’t it?” she heard Wanje ask.

  Amaria turned to see her teacher standing behind her, looking up at the sky.

  “I just saw the Great Mother,” Amaria said.

  Wanje looked at Amaria and smiled. “You did?”

  “She was the stars, or the stars were Her. I’m not sure what I saw.”

  “Those stars are fire flies, but I don’t doubt that you saw Her. Her presence is strong here, and the fire flies are especially active during this season of the cycle.”

  “Where are we?”

  “The sacred pools.”

  “How did I get here?”

  “By horseback. Your mother bathed and dressed you, and Gilda treated your wounds.”

  “Mother was here?”

  “Yes. She was quite worried, but I assured her you were just enjoying a much-needed sleep. I sent a bird to let her know you’re awake and well.”

  “So, I’m not dead?”

  Wanje laughed. “Hardly, but there is someone anxious to see that you’re okay. Follow me.”

  Wanje led the way up a slope. When Amaria neared the top, she saw a gazebo with Penelope sitting at a small table. She wore a black tunic, and her red hair was pulled into a bun.

  Joy filled Amaria’s heart. Wanje smiled and nodded that is was okay to rush ahead.

  “Thank you.” Amaria darted up the rest of the hill.

  Penelope closed the gap, and they embraced.

  Amaria hugged tight. “I’m so glad to see you, Sister.”

  Penelope squeezed hard. “Me too.” She loosened her grip.

  “Or should I say, ma’am.” Amaria released Penelope. “Third-class.” She whistled.

  Penelope laughed. “Right. I almost soiled myself when she gave me the leather.”

  Amaria smiled. “You didn’t soil yourself, but want to know who—”

  “—I hate to interrupt this reunion,” said Wanje, “but this isn’t entirely a social visit. We have serious matters to discuss. Please, take a seat.”

  There was a kettle, tea cups, water glasses, and a bowl of fruit on the table. Amaria chose the chair to the right, looked at the fruit, and became mesmerized. The chunks were blue, green, red, and one was clear. They glowed in the middle like small torches had been rammed inside. Amaria had never seen anything like it. She was slightly afraid but entirely curious to sample a piece.

  “What is this?” she asked, plucking a few chunks out and setting them on the plate in front of her.

  “It’s good,” said Penelope, loading up a large helping. “This is my third round.”

  Wanje filled three tea cups. “I’ve heard them called blossoms. They grow on the bottoms of the pools.” She motioned out in the distance.

  From the top of the slope, the glowing blue pool below looked dazzling. Light fish of all colors skirted around the water. The fire flies were putting on an impressive display. It was far better than any of the fire shows that marked the end of the Genesis and Great Harvest celebrations.

  “You have to eat them in order,” said Penelope. “Green, red, blue, clear, or whatever this is.”

  Amaria returned her attention to the plate.

  Wanje laughed. “Each pool represents an element. You can’t see it from here, but the white ones come from air.” She pointed at the other cubes in the bowl. “Fire blossom, earth blossom, and water. Those blossoms come from this pool.”

  “Interesting.” Amaria looked at Penelope. “So, what was the order?”

  Penelope’s mouth was stuffed. “Green, red, blue, white,” she garbled.

  Amaria picked up a green and raised it to her lips. She hesitated for a heartbeat before shoving the chunk in her mouth. A sweet juice exploded on her tongue, and as she swallowed, she immediately wanted more. She ate the red
one next. Its juice finished with a tart zip that left her mouth tingling. She felt a sweat break out on her brow. She gobbled up the blue, and a splash of refreshment cooled the singe. Last, she polished off the white. The taste had a slight berry flavoring, light yet completely satisfying.

  After she had cleared her plate, Amaria gushed. “Wow,” she said.

  “Told you it was good.” Penelope chomped down on a red.

  Amaria looked at Wanje sipping tea. “They should serve this at Terra’s.” She loaded up another plate full. “They’d double their profits.”

  “Unfortunately, they can’t be harvested for the masses. We only prune dead ones, and the blossoms in the sacred pools can live many, many cycles.”

  Penelope used the cloth beside her to wipe off her fingers. “Can they grow elsewhere, like the healers’ camp?”

  Wanje shook her head. “They can’t survive beyond the veil. The heartbeat they cross the line, the lights burn out. They become poison after that.”

  Amaria choked on the white chunk she had just swallowed. “Poison?”

  “If eaten, deadly but completely safe here.” Wanje smiled. “Enjoy.”

  Penelope shrugged and scooped out another round, but Amaria decided to pause for a tea break. Despite the lure of being able to have as much of this rare, potentially deadly, completely delicious fruit, she wasn’t hungry. Now that she was fully awake, visions of her ranking ceremony, her uncertainty and concern over Telsa’s prophecy and Sakina’s fate, and the looming threat of war flickered in her mind and weighed heavy on her heart.

  Penelope wiped her mouth, pushed her plate away, and picked up a tea cup. “So, do you like that horse?”

  Amaria’s mood perked up. “Very much. Is that the one you won?”

  Penelope nodded.

  “It’s beastly, P. I dreamt that Wanje told me it was mine. Jealous heart.”

  “That wasn’t a dream.” Penelope looked at Wanje.

  Wanje set her cup down. “Yes, thank you for broaching the subject. I think we’ve had enough fruit and banter for one evening.” Wanje looked at Amaria. “Penelope has decided to give you her horse.”