The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

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  The gathered crowd talked amongst themselves, each one taking guesses on the two who would be chosen. Voices buzzed and whispered all around me. Ravene’s name caught my ear many times and it made me happy. It was the one thing that she wanted from the time she was small. From the moment she learned that Mother and Aunt Leena were both the Stag Huntress, Ravene yearned to follow in their footsteps. I stood silently with Aunt Leena on one side and Ravene on the other. Ravene watched the set up with keen interest, a knowing smile stretched widely across her face.

  She will be the Chosen One, I thought. She was the perfect choice. Ravene would follow the footsteps of our mother and become the Huntress, and later, the High Priestess. It was the legacy that she was promised as the oldest daughter and as a child born of the Rites.

  A ripple of silence passed over the crowd as my mother broke from her inner reflection and the Choosing Ritual began. In her lovely, singsong voice, she recited the prayers and the invocations of our people while casting the smoke from the burning herbs to all directions. One by one, with the lit smudge stick still grasped in her hand, Mother took hold of four specific earthen clay bowls one by one. Each bowl was filled with the items that represented the elements. Slowly she spread the ceremonial smoke over them, whispering ritualistic incantations of appreciation and gratitude to appease the elements. The smoke spread across the crowd and slowly disappeared, opening the channel for the Goddess to come through to announce the names of those she had selected. Mother began singing the sacred songs of the Choosing. We as a people followed along, led by her words. Her acolytes aided her in the recitation and when the time came, supported her as she leaned over to peer into the waters of the scrying well. Anxiously, the crowd watched in wonder as Reena called out to the Goddess, asking her for the names of the Chosen to appear before her.

  “Mother Goddess!” Her voice met my ears, sounding hollow and muted from the water. “Give me the names of those that you have chosen. Give me the names of those who will follow your sacred wish. Show us, Oh Mother, Protector of this Land. Guardian of Our World. Keeper of our Lives.” She raised her arms, calling upon the elements to aid her, to give her strength while asking for ease to perform her duties. With a sudden movement, Reena flung herself forward. The crowd gasped just as it did every year. Immune to the sound, Mother leaned fully over the side of the large well so that the water could speak to her and to her alone. Her long golden blonde hair hung in twisting tendrils around her, obscuring her face from the crowd. She gripped the sides of the well as the lower part of her body swayed with a rhythm that only she could hear. In my youth, I often came to this spot to steal a peek into the waters with the hope of finding some life-altering message. Instead, I had only found ripples and the sunlight reflecting my image back at me.

  A great curiosity rose in me as I wondered what exactly was it that she saw. Was it a vision of written names that told her who the chosen ones were? Or was it their images that showed themselves to her? Did the Goddess herself whisper to her through the channel of the water? Only my mother knew for only she was trained to decipher the language of the Goddess and was forever silent on how they communicated. Her mother had taught her the ways of the Goddess after she had been chosen to be the Hunter’s mate. Only a girl who had participated in the Rites could become the High Priestess. That was one of our rules. Mother had been the perfect example, Aunt Leena said many times over. She had been born for this position, as had the other women of our family, dating back to the High Priestess Maren, the first of our line to hold the position. Legends say that Maren and the other First People came from the northern lands after being cast out from their ancestral home. The journey here was arduous and wrought with starvation, violence, hardship, and death. It was when they found their way through the mists that Maren had first heard the voice of the Goddess. Like Maren, my sister was destined to be the Goddess’ physical conduit with this world.

  Since we were young, there had been constant gossip as to which one of my mother’s children would succeed her and not once did any of it mention me. Ravene would be the one to follow in her footsteps. Due to her popularity, her easiness with the citizens of this land and her desire for the position, Ravene was the most logical choice. Mother had been just as popular as Ravene when she was younger while Aunt Leena was the quieter, less sociable twin. Leena was a unique being amongst the others. With my own reclusive nature, I related the most to her. I did not want to be the voice of the people. I had very few friends and preferred the company of animals and plants to the company of humans. My discomfort around others left me sweating profusely, heart racing, and fearing as if the world was crashing down. Being the daughter of the High Priestess, I was expected to be social, speaking only when spoken to, and required to be active within our community. I did it out of necessity, even if I did it poorly. Although I longed to know the answer to many of the mysteries, I wanted no part of being the center of attention or being the one that they came to when they sought answers. Instead, I wanted to live as Eweln did—quiet, alone, and completely immersed in my work.

  “I wonder who it will be?” A woman spoke softly behind me, interrupting my thoughts and bringing me back to the present.

  “The Goddess will soon tell us, my love,” The man standing beside her answered. “We just have to be patient.”

  A long period of silence passed as we all watched with bated breath as Reena bent over the well waiting for the answer. Mother thrust herself upwards, the wet tips of her hair flying around her, casting a spray of water droplets into the air that reflected in a silver halo of the full moon high above her. She straightened herself to face us, eyes closed as we all waited with tense anticipation. Her vivid, dark-blue eyes shot open, causing several gasps to echo across the otherwise spellbound crowd. Reena slowly walked around the circumference of the well until she came to a full stop at the center of the gathered mass of her followers. Lifting her hands to the air, she chimed the incantations of gratitude for the eternal blessings continually bestowed upon us. Everyone began to chant in time with Mother, but my lips remained silent and unmoving. My aunt, my sister, those behind me, in front of me, recited the words of praise, but I did not. I did not feel it in my heart to give thanks. Within the span of a few heartbeats, something had changed. There was a disturbing knowledge that settled within me and set my heart to racing. Instead of the peaceful knowledge of how I expected my life would be, there was a distinct feeling of impending change and it nauseated me. Change that I did not want was coming my way and it terrified me. Once the songs died from Reena’s lips, everyone grew quiet once more. Reena lowered her hands, instructing all of those before her to listen carefully as the startling truth was revealed.

  “The Goddess has spoken to me,” She declared with a supreme faith that gave some of the gathered the encouragement to shout out a cheer. “The Goddess has given me the names of the Chosen Ones that will participate in the Spring Rites. One young man and one young woman have been selected to perform the roles of the Hunter and the Huntress to ensure prosperity for the coming year.” Reena scanned the crowd and she drank the adoration in. Even though she denied it profusely, she rejoiced in the power given to her. Reena held them all in her sway, and they in return hung on every word that fell from her mouth.

  “The Goddess has foreseen that Canwyn, the son of Ellsyn, shall embody the Hunter. Young Canwyn,” The crowd gasped as the young man’s name was announced. She turned to face the slender, dark-haired, bright-eyed youth that now stood at the front edge of the crowd and appeared all too eager to get his training underway. “You shall go forth from this place with the priests to ready yourself for the rituals that you will partake in on the occurrence in two turnings of the moon.”

  The announcement of Canwyn’s name came as a great surprise. I did not know Canwyn but Ravene did—and she knew him well. I often saw them walking together, hand in hand, late in the day when the sun was setting low, hidden away from prying eyes. I
accidentally caught them kissing once in the heart of the forest while collecting mushrooms. Some of the elders expected them to marry. I shared in their expectations.

  Canwyn was a choice that no one expected. The most popular choice had been Cal. He was a young man also descended from the First People and had been groomed to sit on the High Council one day. Cal was strong, relentless, confident, and excelled at whatever he did. His good looks, his chestnut-colored hair, his vivid green eyes, his muscular, athletic build, and magnetic charisma drew people to him—especially those of the opposite sex. Cal possessed darker secrets, though. He was unhinged, cruel, and malicious. I would be lying if I said that part of me wasn’t relieved that Cal wasn’t selected. I detested him immensely and made every attempt to avoid him. Cal, in addition to his other sinister qualities, was also a vain, conceited braggart who used his natural gifts to get whatever he desired. Only Eweln, Aunt Leena, and I could see the trail of carnage that was left in his wake while the others remained blind to it. He reeked of sulfur and rot. The stench was so pungent that it often left my eyes watering. I could see the essence of his malice lurking in the shadows behind his bright green eyes in the few times that we had come into contact. He only cared for himself and often boasted that girls were mere conquests and their only purpose was to cater to men and give birth to sons.

  “Baby girls should be weeded out,” I had heard him whisper to one of his peers as I walked back through the market one day. “The strong ones should be kept, to birth strong sons while the weak, sickly ones should be tossed from the top of the cliff or drowned in the waters.” Hearing his words had made my skin itch with disgust. I had also heard a rumor that he tortured and killed animals, dumping their carcasses into the lake, weighting them down with stones to hide his crimes. I knew there must be some truth to it because the boatmen refused to carry him anywhere. And despite all the lengths that I went through to avoid him, he set his sights upon me and hunted me tirelessly. He followed me everywhere, cornering me in the market or on the pathway leading up to my house. He often hovered outside the herb sheds waiting for me to come out to force me to listen to his plans for what he called ‘our future’.

  “You are destined to be my wife, Yvaine,” He had said just a few days ago. I scowled at him, refusing to respond, and continued on my way home. His words were empty praise, meant to flatter but I saw them for what they were. A pretty lure for a dangerous trap. I could tell that each time that I rebuffed his advances, it only encouraged his desire and that sooner or later, I would have to stand against him.

  “He only wants you because your mother is the High Priestess. You are only a means to gain power and prestige. He wants to see his blood amongst the leaders of these lands and place a High Priest in power, rather than the High Priestess. He doesn’t bother Ravene because everyone knows her, and because of that, she is safe. But you, he sees your quietness as a weakness rather than a strength. He has no idea how strong the power is that lies inside of you.” Eweln counseled me, touching a finger over my heart when I had finally confessed to her how his relentless pursuit of me made me both uncomfortable and uneasy. “You are wise to stay away from him. He will bring great trouble and misery wherever he goes. He is the chaotic storm that destroys everything in its wake.” Little did she know how prophetic her words would turn out to be.

  The sound of feet stomping echoed through the tangible stillness of the crowd. I turned just in time to see the back of Cal’s head pass within a few feet of me as he stormed off, no doubt scowling, and headed towards the residences. I let out a long, ragged sigh of relief knowing that he was gone. I did not hate people as a rule. It wasn’t in my nature, but I hated Cal. Knowing that he was no longer near me made breathing easier. The feel of my sister’s hand holding mine distracted me from my turbulent thoughts of him and gave me a sense of calm that was to be short-lived. I turned to see her eyes watching me, the smile of elated anticipation illuminating her features.

  “Here we go,” She said, her face glowing and radiant with assured expectation.

  “For the Huntress,” My mother’s words recaptured my attention and I turned as she made the announcement. “The Goddess spoke of many names that would have sufficed but one rang out clearer above the rest. This young woman was chosen for her devotion to her craft and her abundant abilities. She is truly blessed by the Goddess.” My skin prickled with gooseflesh and something snapped inside of me. That sense of change nagged at the back of my mind and I battled against, begging it to leave. The look on her face told me everything that I didn’t want to hear and the queasiness in my stomach intensified. A thick layer of sweat broke out across my body and I debated on fleeing, forcing them to choose another, but as I looked at the way people were densely packed around me, I realized that I was stuck.

  “Yvaine, my youngest daughter. You are to be our Huntress,” Reena announced as she performed for the crowd. My head spun, and I felt as if I was going to faint. I prayed that I wouldn’t vomit right there in front of everyone. “From here forth you will leave us to be prepared for your role as the Huntress in the Spring Rites that will occur in two turnings of the moon.”

  No, I thought. Oh no. It can’t be. I closed my eyes, wishing that I was dreaming but when I opened them, the faces of my neighbors and kinsman gawked at me with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. The worst of them came from my sister. Ravene glared at me as if I had betrayed her. Her mouth hung open and her eyes cut into me like daggers.

  “How dare you, Yvaine!” She hissed as she threw g my hand off of hers. Ravene scowled with the full strength of her anger and for a moment, I feared she would strike me. I scanned the area for help, but it was futile. It was her name that should have been called. It was what we expected. I did not want to be the Huntress. I was not meant to play this role. Ravene was better suited, more capable of performing this role, not me! Surely Mother had interpreted the answer wrong, but I had to face the harsh, startling truth. It wasn’t Ravene’s name that was called. It was mine. I tried to take her hand again for strength but Ravene swatted it away as if my touch was repulsive. She turned away, refusing to look at me as I stared back at her, pleading for her forgiveness. Aunt Leena gently touched my back and whispered a blessing that I could not hear due to the loud rush of shocked voices around us.

  “Go,” Leena whispered again and kissed my temple. I stepped forward reluctantly as the tingle of Ravene’s stare seared into my back. A group of women stood just at the edge of the crowd, waiting for me. One of them, a woman with long, curly silver-colored hair stepped forward.

  “Welcome, Daughter,” She extended her arms in welcome and held me in a loving, protective embrace that I did not expect. Despite the warm openness of her hug, my body remained rigid. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” She said so sincerely that I immediately trusted her. Without words, I knew that she would do everything in her power to make sure that I was successful in the upcoming stage in my life. The woman lightly touched my face for the span of a moment. Slowly, she turned me to face my mother. Reena stood before me, her face unreadable as she looked down with her hands extended as if urging me to go, to accept what had been so graciously given to me and to welcome it with open arms. Every fiber of my being wanted to bolt, to deny the Goddess, and give this duty to its rightful recipient. Ravene deserved to be where I stood now. Her heart was set on being the Huntress since she was little and now, she was deprived of it all because my name was the one that the Goddess called.

  I was consumed with guilt. Despite the war that raged inside my mind, I knew that it was too late. Everyone had seen me step forward, reluctantly accepting my fate and there was no way that I would ever be able to live down the embarrassment that it would cause my family if I were to refuse. There was no rejecting the gift once it was bestowed upon you. It was a privilege and an honor that only a few were given. Being the daughter of the High Priestess, I knew that there would be dire consequences if I were the first to do so. From the previous Rite
s that I had seen, the chosen participants all relished in being selected. I found myself unable to muster the same gratitude. While others gratefully thanked the Goddess, I remained stone-faced and silent. Instead of excited gratitude, I bore it with miserable reluctance. I locked eyes with Reena and saw something there in those dark blue orbs that sent a shiver coursing down my back. Reena was a master of her emotions and because of that, I could not read what she felt, nor could I guess the thoughts running through her brain. Reena must have had no idea that it would be me judging by the way she stared at me now. I wholly believed that she was as dumbfounded as the rest of us.

  “It is time for their preparations to begin,” She broke our gaze and focused her attention back to the crowd. “Canwyn will be taken to the Hunters’ Isle to begin his lessons. Yvaine will go to the Sacred Island to join the Women who will commence with her training. Together, on that fateful night two moons from now, the Hunter and Huntress will join as one in the First Dwelling in the heart of the Sacred Grove to perform the Spring Rites.” She raised her hands up for emphasis which brought a great cheer from those that had gathered. With a great sweeping motion that signaled the end of the ceremony, I was swiftly escorted away from the site of the Great Well, unable to say goodbye.