The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “She said that you will never leave the Island. Reena told me that you have never been past the boundary. Your Aunt Leena confirmed it. Neither of us understands her motives and we are both frustrated by it.” She explained as I listened. My grandmother was a very perceptive woman. The words she spoke next confirmed that perception.

  “Reena can be so blind at times. When she forbade me to teach you, she declared that it would be better for Ravene to learn when her time comes. Reena believes that Ravene will handle the veil easily because she has a natural ability when dealing with others. She claims that the demands of trade will soon force Ravene to commune with those beyond our boundaries. That if Ravene is to be successful, she needs to know how to control the veil. She’s willfully neglecting to realize that popularity has nothing to do with skill.”

  A pang of anger towards Reena settled in my soul. It was a brutal, painful truth that Mother favored Ravene. A truth that I realized during my first time in the waters. Reena made it a point that Ravene was taught things but denied them to me. She had been shown things that I had never been introduced to. Completely abandoned in that aspect, it had been up to me to find other ways to learn, whether it was through other means or even on my own. While Ravene tried to make light of my exclusion or outright denied it, my mother’s explanations for it were both harsh and brutal.

  “Your sister has an aptitude that you simply do not possess, and never will.” Her eyes narrowed when I had had enough of the secrets and had cornered her one evening when she was preparing dinner. Her cold tone and emotionless features turned the blood in my veins to ice.

  “You are a skilled healer, but your talents do not require you to go outside our society. Ravene is a natural teacher and will become an excellent trader. She can easily befriend others and win their trust. You are socially awkward and are of no interest to anyone, save your aunt and Eweln. Now, there will be no more of this questioning. What I’ve said is final and you will have to accept it. Never speak to me of this again.” She turned on me, her tongue as vicious as a serpent’s.

  Just like the times before, I obeyed, never broaching the subject again. Dropping it was easier than living with Reena’s ire. A wrath that I had tasted far too many times across the span of my sixteen years.

  Grandmother’s presence beside me snapped the string of my thoughts and suddenly I was brought back to the present.

  “Why do I need to know how to lift the veil?” I asked as self-doubt crept its way into my heart.

  “Ravene will never master it. I have seen it in my dreams. We will spend many cycles of the moon trying to teach her, but she will always fail. The ability is just simply not within her. You are so much stronger than your sister. There is magic that lives inside of you that is absent from her. It is the same magic that your ancestor, Maren, possessed. Yvaine, you have the gift of endurance. You can adapt and survive. Ravene cannot. She gets her strength from other people, whereas yours comes from within.” She touched the spot over my heart with her index finger. “Your independent spirit allows you to be comfortable with being alone. Ravene cannot bear to be alone. It is simply not a part of her own special magic. Reena is wrong to underestimate you. Yvan’s resiliency and fortitude reside within you. He was also very independent. You both get that from your grandfather. He was quiet, and like you, he weathered whatever came his way. That determination is why I know that you are more than capable of doing so much more.” She spoke confidently and held my hand while doing so. “Did you know that Reena struggled when learning to control the veil?” She added, her mouth curved up humorously. My mouth fell open from shock.

  “She did?” I laughed, surprised at my core. Whatever my mother did, she did perfectly. In all my years, I could not recall her ever making a mistake or failing at anything. Knowing that she had struggled gave me a sense of pleasure and the unquenchable thirst to outshine her.

  “It took several days of near-constant trying for her to successfully lift that veil, and even then, she needed help,” My grandmother giggled as she pointed to herself, indicating that she had had a hand in my mother raising the veil. I couldn’t stifle the snicker that came out of my own mouth, envisioning Reena standing before the hazy barrier, frustrated and furious.

  “Leena, however, was a natural. She succeeded on the first try and looked as if she had been doing it for years. I see so much of you in her. So much more than Reena. That is something that you should be proud of, my dear. Leena is an exceptional woman. Reena will never be the woman that her sister is.” She pulled me close as the boat slowed as we arrived at the outer shore. “Now, there is no need to be nervous, if that is how you are feeling. I have no doubt that you can do this.” She finished as the boat thumped against the shore and the boatman motioned that we had reached our destination.

  We climbed out and made our way towards the thick misty veil. The veil had protected our world for centuries. Just beyond it, I could make out three blurred, recognizable shapes. I wondered briefly who they were and why they were there.

  “I have asked some of the women to come and bear witness,” Grandmother said as if she could read my thoughts. “Now, I need you to stand here.” She assisted me to a spot where I wouldn’t be hindered by any of the growth that covered the ground. Grandmother stood at my side and looked deep into my eyes. “You are ready for this, Yvaine.” She gave me one last encouragement before she announced that it was time to begin.

  Grandmother talked me through the process before any attempts at lifting occurred. I did as she instructed, standing with my feet apart, my hands raised to the skies. She began to recite the sacred words that held our most precious security in place. As I repeated them, I found the words flowed from my lips with great ease as if I had known them for centuries. I closed my eyes and focused, paying keen attention to how they felt rolling off my tongue. A power swept over me. The hum of the earth rose up into my feet, up my legs, and vibrated deep within the marrow of my bones. My lips kept moving, fleshing out the spell. My eyes teared under my closed lids as an unnamable power overtook me. My grandmother’s voice spoke through the trance but did not break it.

  “Envision the mist wall. Watch it curl up like smoke that dissipates into the air. See it disappear and unveil the three that stand disguised behind it.” Grandmother coached me until I could no longer tell where her voice began and ended. I did as she asked, picturing it just as I had seen it moments before, and watching with fresh eyes as its started to thin, and curl upwards before quickly evaporating.

  The rest of it followed in turn until I could envision the solid forms of the three women before us. My eyes flew open as something surged deep within me, leaving me breathless. It took a moment to gather myself but once I was recovered, I glanced up and the hazy boundary was gone.

  I did it! I cheered heartily as my confidence soared. My pride nowhere near matched my grandmother’s. Her eyes shone and her smiling mouth quivered at the ends as she stood at my side.

  “You did magnificently,” She whispered as she hugged me. “Isn’t that right, Leena?” I looked up just in time to see Leena rush towards me, her arms outstretched.

  “Oh, Yvaine!” Leena cried as her arms circled around me and held me tightly to her.

  I clung to my beloved aunt joyously. Curious, I stole a glance over her shoulder to see who accompanied her. I immediately recognized the herb vendors’ wife and Iwied, one of grandmother’s acolytes. Smiling, both came forward to congratulate me. All three were descendants of Maren and in a way, my kinswomen. I could only assume that was why they had been chosen. I basked in their admiration momentarily until Grandmother told me it was time to lower our barrier.

  “Never leave the veil up for too long, Yvaine. To do so leaves us exposed and vulnerable.” With a nod of my head, I brought the curtain down with little effort. Another round of praise followed before the vendors’ wife announced that she needed to get back to her children while Aunt Leena stated that she needed to get home. Iwied rushed off too, mutte
ring something about needing to finish gathering herbs for the ceremony. My grandmother and I remained behind, watching as the boatmen took our guests back across the silvery waters.

  “The Goddess be with you!” Aunt Leena shouted, waving enthusiastically as she floated away.

  ************

  The remainder of the day was filled with tasks that required both humility and patience. The work was hard. My back ached from digging. The arches of my feet pained from constant standing, and my head throbbed from lack of water. Yet, the hard work did nothing to dampen my joy. Knowing that I could do what so many others couldn’t puffed my chest out with pride. More than once a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth as I thought of Grandmother’s willful disobeying of Reena’s orders. Grandmother saw my potential whereas Reena was willfully blind to it. From this point on, I had more than just Aunt Leena in my corner. I had my grandmother, too. For as long as I lived, I would keep her secret. No one save those that were present would ever know how easily the veil bent to my will.

  After a long day of work, I went to my sleeping pallet, bone-tired, weary, and overworked. Yet my spirit soared through the heavens like falcons that hunted in the meadows at the base of the hills where the flatlands met the stream. I conquered the impenetrable barrier. I planted the autumn’s harvest singlehandedly. I worked until I thought I would collapse from exhaustion, but I didn’t. I achieved what I set out to do. As I lie there quietly, I relished knowing that nothing could stop me. That no matter what was thrown in my way, what obstacle was laid in my path, I could conquer it. My determination to see my tasks to completion would see to it that I would not fail.

  FOUR

  Time ticked by so swiftly that I hadn’t realized the day of the Great Ceremony arrived. During my time with my grandmother and her faithful collection of assistants, I walked the path to the First Dwelling at least a dozen times or more. I knew the trail so well that I could follow it in my sleep if I wanted to. The Acolytes and I practiced the required rituals every day, over and over. The hours were filled with constantly repeating dances, reciting prayers, incantations, and singing ceremonial songs that were all essential parts of the Rites.

  My training was fun, challenging, and unique. It wasn’t without its downside, though. The worst part of my Huntress training was the tattooing. Both the Hunter and the Huntress were marked with sacred protection symbols across our arms, shoulders, backs, and legs. Our tattoos were written in a sacred language that only the Island Priests and the Women of the Isle spoke. My tattooing occurred on my third day on the Sacred Island and, for the first time in my life, I was frightened to my core.

  Grandmother surprised me that morning by instructing me to go to the Acolytes rather than heading for my daily soak. Once we arrived, Ibira escorted me into the common lodge where the others sat waiting with the tattoo supplies ready. I froze as my eyes landed upon the long, thin-bladed knife, as well as the bowls of ink and other tools utilized during the process.

  “It’s all right,” Ibira whispered as she gently took hold of my hand. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Her calm voice did nothing to steady my racing heart or quell the fear that gripped my belly. Sensing my distress, Ibira urged me to lie down and promised to stay with me. The pallet they made was comfortable and reminded me of the Hilltop’s soft mattress of lush grass. With a smile, Ibira instructed me to sit up momentarily and handed me a cup fashioned from a dried gourd. Inside was a heavy, pungent smelling tea that she encouraged me to drink.

  “Is this valerian?” I asked hesitantly as I brought the brew to my mouth, instantly recognizing the scent.

  “Just drink, Yvaine,” Her empathetic mouth curved as I swallowed the last of the cup’s contents.

  The tattooing process was excruciating. It was far worse than Ibira claimed. True to her word, she remained at my side throughout the entire ceremony. The other acolytes formed a circle around me as they blessed the space before the ritual began. Once it was over, they sat down and held hands, maintaining the protective ring around me. Armed with the thin-bladed knife, Iwied carved symbols into my skin while her sisters chanted, their eyes closed as their lips moved with enchantments. Grandmother was on my other side, periodically touching my cheek while smoothing back the hair that clung to my sweaty brow. The second part was worse than the first. Merely cutting the skin and letting it scar would not be enough to protect the Huntress from harm, nor would it guarantee success. The tattoos must be visible. The markings must be seen with human eyes as well as the Goddess’. To make them visible, Iwied rubbed a paste of blue woad into the open wounds. I screamed as the dyes burned and struggled to get away.

  “Yvaine,” Grandmother’s hand rested lovingly upon my shoulder. “Yvaine, you must bear the pain.” She urged and motioned to Eshara, one of the Acolytes. From the edge of my vision, the bronze-skinned woman handed Grandmother a ruddy-brown potted crock. Once it was firmly in hand, Grandmother removed the lid, dipped her fingers in, and smoothed a lamb’s ear salve into the open wounds. All my tension eased the moment the salve oozed into the openings in my skin.

  “This also prevents infection,” Grandmother added once I was slathered from head to toe. “The properties in lamb’s ear inhibit the occurrence of putrescence.”

  Sweat-soaked, pained, and exhausted, I fought the urge to fall asleep. Once the tattooing was over, the Acolytes, save Tilme, wrapped me with woolen bandages that would be changed every few hours until the bleeding stopped, and the wounds started to scab over.

  I slept for the span of a day. The valerian tea hit me just as the tattooing ritual concluded. Grandmother insisted that I remain in the Acolyte’s village so they could watch over me and observe me for any sign of infection. For as much as the cutting hurt, the itching from the healing process nearly drove me mad. For days I walked, coated in an anti-itching salve to keep from scratching the skin from off my bones. The Acolytes forced me to wear gloves to prevent any further damage. When the scabs started to fall off that I could bear living inside my body again. Once I was thoroughly healed, I gazed at the splendor of my tattooed body. The graceful curves of the lettering and symbols were mesmerizing. As I ran my hands over them, I started to believe that the upcoming Rites would continue without complication.

  ************

  Grandmother and her Acolytes readied me for success. They drilled everything that they knew into my brain so that when my time came, it would all be second nature. Due to their refusal to accept anything less than perfection, we all believed that there was no way that the Rites would fail. One of my grandmother’s young acolytes, Inwyn, asked if I was nervous about the ‘duties’ required of me. I didn’t answer her straight away but rather reflected upon the moment when Canwyn and I would be alone. Partaking in the sexual act didn’t frighten me but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t apprehensive. The apprehension of the unknown settled within my belly each time that I faced something new but just like each of those times, I raised my chin and I faced the challenge head on, refusing to show fear and trepidation.

  The night before the Rites, the Acolytes invited me to share their evening meal with them. I was almost embarrassed to hear their praise at how easy I made the tests look and how they were all certain that they would never see another in their lifetimes who adapted in the way I did. Even though the praise stained my cheeks a vivid red, I was immensely proud that I had their faith, as well as their approval. I felt it even more so when I caught my grandmother watching me, grinning with both pleasure and pride.

  “You’re a natural, Yvaine,” Emira, another of the Women, said at our final dinner, beaming with admiration. “You do us all proud at how you’ve grown in both confidence and knowledge.”

  “Emira is right,” Una, another Acolyte, added. “You will be successful. I can feel it in my bones.” I thanked her, even though her gushing always seemed silly to me. Her heart was in the right place and her intentions towards my success were both sincere and honorable. I left them all with heaps of gratitude for
their hard work in preparing me. I kissed their cheeks and hugged them tightly, knowing that such simple gestures would never be enough to thank them for what they had done.

  “Are you afraid to conceive a child?” Tilme asked me point blank before leaving. Her cold eyes stared into mine as if they already knew the answer.

  “The Goddess is with me. I have nothing to fear,” I answered boldly. Seeing that I would not give her the answer or the fear that she wanted, she turned her back to me and began speaking to the other women around us.

  I walked back to Grandmother’s hut that night nervous but optimistic about the events head of me. I also couldn’t deny that tomorrow was my last day with these wonderful women. Knowing that I couldn’t dwell on sadness, I forced myself to focus on tomorrow. It was the day that we had all worked and prayed for.

  The idea of leaving my grandmother was hard to bear, far harder than I could have ever imagined. As a token of thanks, my appreciation, and most of all, my love, I had been weaving a basket out of dried water reeds for her to wear on her back. I wanted to know that her life would be easier once I was gone. I knew that I could always take the vows and come here to live permanently but I knew that my soul and my spirit were not fully suited for this life. I wouldn’t be completely content here, separated from the other half of my family, unable to make the best my innate skills.

  No, I would not come to live here. Once my part was completed, I would go back home. My chest ached with the thought. I had grown close to my grandmother in our brief time together. To know that I would not see her every day saddened me beyond words. To ask her to come to live back on the island was overstepping my bounds. I knew that even if I begged, she would refuse in her sweet, delicate manner. Her voice never grew loud unless it was in prayer. The gentleness that she embodied no longer fit in the hustle and bustle of the main island’s daily life. The Island people were not the same as when she left them. Grandmother would remain here where she could live in peace. Her insistence on staying didn’t mean that I couldn’t request leave to visit her from time to time.