The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “Yvaine,” Reena said as I stepped across the threshold. She stood stoically, expressionless, but afraid, judging from the tense way she gripped her hands. “Leena said that she would send someone, but I did not expect it to be you.”

  “I formulated a mixture that I found in the herb shed records,” I told her, intentionally omitting Gwellen’s association to it. I plunged my hand in my bag and produced one of the bottles for her to see. “It’s a mullein and horehound elixir. It helps to expel the suffocating mucus from the lungs and eases breathing. It’s far stronger than anything else that I’ve given anyone but the recipe claims that it is extremely effective. I suspect that the recipe is one of Old Mother Alayda’s.” I lied about the second part, instinctively using Mother’s affinity for our ancestor and certain that wouldn’t let me attend Ravene otherwise. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’m here to help. Ravene will be fine. I won’t let her die.” I sounded more confident in her presence than I ever had.

  “I would prefer if someone more skilled treated your sister, Yvaine. You are too young and too inexperienced to handle something this severe.” She glared down the length of her nose at me, judging me.

  “There is no one more capable than Yvaine.” Eweln’s championing voice spoke out from behind me. “Although she could have slowed her pace to let an old woman catch up.” My mentor now stood shoulder to shoulder with me. She gave me a wink before addressing my mother again. “High Priestess Reena,” Eweln said. “There is no one that is more adept at treating Ravene than the one who stands before you. Yvaine has had the foresight to research and pour through old writings because she cares whether your people live or die. Are you going to allow one more to die simply because you cannot find the ability to trust in Yvaine’s innate abilities?” Mother pondered Eweln’s words for a lengthy tense moment. Finally, with a nod of consent, she stepped aside and allowed me to pass through towards where Ravene slept.

  Ravene was coughing and choking on phlegm when I entered the room. Strong spasms ravaged her body, sapping what little strength she had left. As each attack seized her, I winced at the intense distress that she suffered. Moving to the bedside, I cringed with alarm. Ravene was dehydrated, her pallid lips were wrinkled, and her skin was frighteningly gray.

  “Did it not occur to you to give her water? And did any of you notice that she’s burning with fever?” I shouted angrily at Reena, certain that she refused anyone to touch Ravene for fear that the sickness would spread back to her. Reena was frightened of any type of sickness. Her greatest fear was dying from a protracted illness. She had said as much many times. She feared that her life would end from one of the incurable diseases after a long bout of suffering.

  Letting out a sound of disgust, I called out for a bowl of fresh water and clean linens. Without hesitation, I withdrew a vial and shook it to mix the settled ingredients as Eweln set to work changing the bed. Waiting for Eweln to finish, I lifted the bottle to Ravene’s lips.

  “This is to help get rid of all of the mucous, sweet sister. It will break up that mess resting inside your lungs so you can easily cough it up.” I supported her with my free arm while administering the tonic with the other. Once she swallowed it down, I dipped a clean cloth in a bowl of water and dabbed her dry, parched lips. I repeated the action over and over until the bowl was empty.

  “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you,” I pushed the sweaty hair off her brow and applied sweet mint-scented beeswax to her dry, chapped lips. “Everything will be fine, you will see.” I promised, meaning every word.

  I sat with Ravene through the night and well into the next morning. Every hour I gave her a dose and waited. In between, I rubbed moisturizing salves into her skin to protect her from dehydration. Each time she coughed, I supported her and then soothed her once the fits were over. Just before dawn, I shouted with joy when she was able to spit up the first large chunk of green, infected mucous. Through the minutes that ticked by, I noticed that her breathing became less labored and the intense fever that scorched her skin had cooled to normal. By the next evening, Ravene breathed easier, her coughing had significantly reduced, and her fever was all but gone. My sister was on the mend and out of danger.

  “Yvaine,” Ravene croaked weakly, catching me off guard. She’d been sleeping soundly for several hours and I hadn’t expected her to wake up so soon. “What are you doing here?” She said as I smiled down at her. Her eyes were open, and she watched me with great surprise.

  “Aunt Leena told me that you were ill. I came as soon as I could to take care of you.” I let out the breath I had been holding as I wiped away the hair that clung to the sides of her face.

  “I’m glad that you’re here. You’ve been gone for weeks.” She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, trouble-free breath. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” My eyes flooded, and tears fell as I blinked. “But there are others that are going to need my help,” I told her, all-too aware of the workload ahead of me. “I’m so glad that you’re feeling better, but I have to go to see to the others. I will be back to check on you but, in the meantime, I will leave a bottle of medicine with Danae. You can trust her to take care of you. If everything goes the way that it should, you will be back on your feet in just a few days. Right now, you need to rest, you need to drink plenty of water, and take your draught. Promise me that you will do as I say?”

  “I promise.” Her hand slowly took hold of mine. She squeezed it weakly, but it was the strongest, most precious squeeze in the world. In that gesture, I knew Ravene would be fine. I even had hope that we would grow close once again. Gwellen’s concoction saved Ravene’s life. I was beyond grateful for the elder healer’s wisdom and to the Goddess that I found it. With a I smile, I kissed Ravene’s forehead and left her to speak with Reena.

  “How is she?” Reena demanded as I entered the front room. She was seated at the table next to our hearth with an untouched bowl of string beans waiting to be snapped resting before her. Her eyes held a hard edge and a mistrust that instantly angered me.

  “Much better than she was when I first got here,” I announced, both relieved and furious at the same moment. “She’s out of danger but she needs to stay in bed while she regains her strength.”

  “Your tonic worked?” Mother’s face registered the disbelief she had been clinging to.

  “It worked and quickly,” Eweln stated from behind me. She never left my side during the entire time that I treated Ravene. I found a great support that she was still with me now.

  “Praise the Goddess.” Reena called out and raised her hands above her in thanks. “Yvaine, thank you. Thank you for saving Ravene’s life.” Mother surprised me as she rose and came towards me. Shockingly, she awkwardly took me in her arms and briefly held me close to her. I froze as the scent of blood mixed with the earthen scent of Fool’s Funnel mushrooms assaulted my nose. I drew back clumsily, troubled by the smell that still lingered in my nostrils.

  “Blessed Be,” Eweln said and announced that we needed to go. “There are others that need to be treated.” She added and headed out the door. As I left our home that day, I did so with uncertain and alarmed from the odor that emanated off my mother.

  “What’s wrong, child?” Eweln’s arm slipped around my shoulders as we made our way back. “Is something bothering you?”

  “It’s nothing,” I answered her. “I’m just tired, is all.” Even though my answer was truthful, it wasn’t complete. A strong, troubling feeling rooted itself in my stomach and somehow, I knew that the relationship that I shared with the woman who I called Mother was forever altered.

  As soon as I restocked my supply of the mullein tincture, I headed straight to treat Vesten’s brother. I dosed Vannen as well as I could, happy to see the faces he made at the ‘awful’ taste of the ‘nasty stuff’ that I made him drink. I left both Vesten and his younger brother in good spirits and hopeful. As I went from house to house, I administered to every person that had fallen ill. Several times, Eweln
back to the herb sheds for more medicine. That is how quickly we burned through it. The demand grew to be so great that Leena brought in several more women to help just so that we could keep up with what we needed. All of the women worked in a steady, unbroken line. The tea brewers constantly steeped sachets in huge, steaming bowls. Those that responsible for crafting the draughts fastidiously macerated and crushed the leaves before tamping them down in large clay pots and pouring the alcohol and water brew over them. Once that step was done, they capped each container and stored them in darkened cabinets where they stayed for the next two cycles of the moon. Despite the bitter winds that blew and the dropping, wet temperatures that left a thick layer of ice across the Island, our people quickly began to recover. No more lives were lost once I started treating them with Gwellen’s recipe. Tending to our flock took a solid few weeks of work, going door to door, bed to bed. Finally, when the last patient was on the mend, I released the breath I had been holding.

  I was sitting outside the herb sheds, a place I now often found myself, savoring the moment where I could just sit and be. My body was exhausted from the long set in fatigue, but I had forced myself to work through it. My bones ached, my muscles were strained, and my dog-tired head swam. Having a moment to just breathe was the greatest balm that I had ever received.

  “I think you’ve earned yourself a well-deserved rest.” Aunt Leena stepped out and stretched. The sun had finally come out, causing the snowy ground to glisten and sparkle under its warm, golden light.

  “For a moment, I forgot how to breathe,” I giggled, grasping a small branch sticking out from a nearby snowdrift.

  “Well, when you’ve got yourself put back together, come home.” She gently touched the top of my head. “Ravene is anxious to see you.” It was the first mention of my sister since I left her side to treat the rest of the population. “Your sister is mending beautifully.” Aunt Leena heaped praise upon me. Her pride went well beyond what words could express. Gifted with healing herself, Leena viewed my work as a continuation of her family line. Fate had not blessed her with a living child and therefore, cut short Leena’s dream of passing her skills down to a child of her own.

  I would be the one to do it. I silently told her, watching her closely as we rested beside one another. I will be your legacy.

  ************

  The following day, I made my way home to stay. The thought of seeing Ravene filled me with nervous happiness and intense joy. Carrying my pack with me, I walked down the curve of the pathway, waving at thankful faces. The quickest route home was through the market square. As soon as my foot hit the Forum’s ground, faces rushed towards me, each one smiling, each one thanking me for saving them or their loved one.

  “We were blessed the day that the Goddess gave you to us.” One older woman cried as she kissed my cheek in thanks for saving her young daughter.

  “We would have lost my husband for sure if it had not been for you.” Another younger woman clutched and kissed my hands and wouldn’t let go as I covered the entire length of the plaza. Only when I was at the opposite side did they fall back, still filled with gratitude and praise. Giving them a hearty wave of appreciation, I continued the rest of the way home.

  Ravene flew out the door and met me at the top of the stairs as our home came into view. “Yvaine!” She ran at me swiftly and nearly toppled me over as she hugged me close to her. “My dear, sweet sister.” She kissed my cheek. “I have missed you terribly. I am so glad to see you.” She hugged me again, less forceful this time and threaded her arm through mine as we walked to the front door. “Did you go through the market? Did you hear all the people talking about you? We’re all so proud. I cannot tell you how proud we are of you.” She went inside first, leaving me to follow behind. “Mother,” Ravene called out. “Yvaine is home.”

  As I entered, Aunt Leena stood working at one of the long tables and came to me, wiping her hands clean. “Welcome home, my pet,” She enfolded in her waiting arms, kissed my cheek, and told me that she was making something special for our dinner tonight. The three of us stood talking for several minutes but Reena had yet to show herself.

  “Where is Reena?” Ravene asked, glancing around the room.

  “She went to speak with the Council. She left while you were napping, my lamb,” Leena’s voice was unsympathetic as she spoke, and I knew that she wasn’t being wholly truthful. Emotional moments were uncomfortable for her twin sister and because of that, Reena often removed herself long before they could affect her. It was how she avoided what made her uneasy. It was because I understood that about her that I did not get mad at her absence. Instead, I chose to dwell on the present and relished in spending time with my sister and my aunt.

  After dinner, I left them with a full stomach and a heaviness in my bones. A heaviness that came from the constant movement and never giving my mind a moment to calm itself to rest and repair. I went to my pallet that night, grateful for the chance to sleep and hopeful for the future.

  TWO

  The frigid winds and abundant snowfall quickly abated, and renewal was springing to life all around us. Even though the bulk of praise had died down, my fellow Islanders heaped their appreciation upon me for healing the sick. I couldn’t walk through the marketplace without at least one person stopping me to give thanks. My newfound fame made me uncomfortable but soon, the people’s focus waned and redirected towards the upcoming Spring celebration.

  The island folk began decorating their work stalls, their homes, and even themselves for the upcoming festival. Flowers, garlands, wreaths, sprigs, and bouquets decorated every free surface, but this décor was nothing like what was to come. All this effort meant only one thing: The Spring Rites would soon be upon us.

  For days, the community buzzed with gossip over who would be the lucky two chosen for the upcoming ceremony. The Spring Rites was the biggest celebration of our calendar and just mere hours remained until the community would gather to see one young maiden and a young man as they were chosen and escorted across the lake to the respective islands where they would be cleansed, groomed, and trained to fulfill the roles of the Hunter and the Huntress. The Rites represented the renewal of life. Together, they would join as one in the First Dwelling, or the Sacred Cave—the holiest place in our world. It was here that a young woman, Maren, my many time's great-grandmother, had a vision of the Goddess. Through Maren’s lips, we learned what the Goddess requested of us. Her decree was that if the couple joined, and if the young woman bore a child from the coupling, the Goddess would bestow her endless blessings upon us. The child was an everlasting symbol of the Goddess’ favor. Everyone that lived on the island truly believed that Ravene would be the Huntress. Not a single voice that I passed spoke of any other name. No one certainly expected things to turn out in the way that they did.

  ************

  Two weeks before, the first ewe birthed the first lamb of the season. With the arrival of new life, the Island hummed with anticipation. The birth of the first lamb was the herald of the Spring Rites. The first full moon after the birth was when the ceremony would take place. That full moon was high overhead when Aunt Leena came in and woke me. I had been napping off a headache that had been lingering all day.

  “The Choosing will take place soon,” She said softly in the darkness. “Come, my Yvaine, we should go. The people are starting to gather.” Still hazy from the heaviness of sleep’s spell, I rose as she wrapped a shawl around my shoulders to protect me from the strong, seasonable night winds that continued to blow. Wrapping myself in its soft warmth, I readied myself and walked with Aunt Leena and Ravene to the center of the island, stopping at the eastern edge of the Marketplace. A large grove of trees grew naturally in a half-circle and a large well stood in the center. This was the Great Well, the site of the Choosing. Once we stopped and mingled amongst the crowd, I spotted Reena standing just beyond the round, fieldstone well containing the scrying waters. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly moving as she meditated to pre
pare herself while her band of acolytes finished smudging the area with lavender, vervain, yarrow, and mugwort to purge any negative energy from the air. Fires burned in large, metal braziers that flanked each side of the well. The wind teased and licked the flames that did little to dispel the sharp chill that settled over the gathered crowd. Hundreds of hand-woven garlands hung everywhere. The garlands were made of dried sprigs of basil, rosemary, and hawthorn, as well as mistletoe and foxglove. All the favored offerings of the Goddess were offered up as far as the eye could see. Reena wore her ceremonial robes made of the hand-spun sheep’s wool, dyed in red-colored juice from the raspberries that grew on dense, thick bushes along the outer edges of the island. The hem was embroidered with multi-colored-threaded patterns. Stags danced across the bottom, flitting in and out amongst embroidered trees, encircled by flowers and shrubberies, accompanied by squirrels, mice, hedgehogs, and rabbits. The gown was stitched with protective spells to ensure peace and deflect negative energy. These symbols represented the fertility of our world, as well as the hopes and desires we all had for prosperity. A doe stood in the center of the gown’s hem, alert and standing in wait for the stag coming at the time of the Taking. The intricate details mesmerized me, and I often found myself wanting to run my fingers along the meticulously stitched patterns. Despite that heavy desire, it was something that I never dared. To do so would defile the robe and corrupt the ceremony. Only the High Priestess and her assistants could handle her sacred robes. The garment was always blessed before and after the ceremony to preserve its sanctity. Only the Acolytes knew where it was stored when not in use. One of their jobs was to protect it from harm and keep it out of the public’s hands. Anyone else who dared to disregard those laws would be punished and the robes would be burned, the purity lost, no longer sacred and carrying the blessings of the Goddess. In all my years of life, no one had ever dared to attempt it and I believed no one ever would. Standing in my spot, I knew that no one gathered in this space had the inclination to stray from our norms. We were a group of followers who dedicated our lives to the Mother Goddess. Even our leaders were steadfast in that belief. They were content with our world as it was and dared not to change it.