The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “I cannot stop thinking about Canwyn,” Ravene answered furiously, her voice thick, a sign that she had been crying. “Why did he have to die? I loved him. We were planning on getting married. Why did you have to choose Yvaine, Mother?” She asked, her voice filled with accusation and blame. “If you had selected me like you promised, this wouldn’t have happened!” Her voice started to break up with unspoken fury.

  “I chose Yvaine because I knew that this would happen,” Reena’s admission rocked me to my core and left me stunned as if I had been stabbed in my back. “I saw it in a vision. Canwyn’s death, the rape—everything—I saw it all. Before I named Yvaine, it was your face that I saw in the waters, but I would not sacrifice you. You are far too special. I love you far too much to see you fall so low. That is why I chose Yvaine. She’s nothing compared to you. You will be my successor, she will not. I could not subject you that kind of stigma. Yvaine will never amount to much. What happens to her is of no consequence. Having her name tarnished is nothing, but for you, it would have been everything. That is why I chose to spare you and sacrifice her instead. Next Spring, when you perform the Rites, your success will be so much greater because of Yvaine’s failure.”

  “The man I love is dead and you did nothing to stop it.” Ravene said, her voice was harsh and bitter.

  “You must understand,” Mother tried to reason with my older sister. Hearing her twisted my stomach and nauseated me. “I did this all because I love you. I am sorry that Canwyn is dead, but he is not the man of your life. I have seen it in the Well. He needed to be sacrificed so that when you go to the Rites, you will be seen as a great savior. The people will adore you and when it is your time to follow me, they will remember what you have done.” In my mind’s eye, I saw the mad plan shining in my mother’s blue eyes. She saw me as nothing but a pawn. A means to an end to promote Ravene. A sacrifice to be thrown away once its purpose had been filled.

  “You still could have chosen Cal and left my Canwyn alone! If you saw Cal rape Yvaine, wouldn’t it have been easier to choose him instead? I don’t care what that stupid well said. Canwyn was who I wanted. He wasn’t some game piece in your master plan. His blood is on your hands.” Ravene’s booming voice echoed throughout every inch of the Grotto. I was surprised that it didn’t wake Eweln, who was normally a very light sleeper. A deep, vibrating snore informed me that she was still fast asleep.

  “You owe me for his death. You owe me, and you better deliver on it. Do not deny me again, Mother. I will hold you to your promise and if you fail me, I will make you pay.” Ravene warned and shuffled back to her bed.

  Hot tears of hatred wet my face while the bitter taste of resentment rested on the tip of my tongue. My mother picked me for the slaughter to spare my sister. By doing so, she showed me what value I had in her eyes. What would my father think if he were here? What would he have done to hear her speak so? Would he fought back like Aunt Leena, or would he have stayed silent? Ultimately, I would never know. He was in the spirit world and unable to intervene.

  I knew that I could not stay here and live with their betrayal. In that time and space, I saw a glimpse of what would happen. The people of our world would turn on me, just as Leena said. I was an outcast. The people of the Island decided my fate without a fair trial. Decision made, I was up on my feet, resolute in my decision. I was leaving the Island. Even if certain death waited for me out there, it was better than remaining here.

  ************

  While the air was weighted with the sounds of sleep, I went to the preparation tables and packed a variety of herbs into small, cloth sacks. Next, I stashed bits of food in more pouches, taking more than enough to last me for several weeks if I was careful. One of the water bladders that hung near the door made its way into my bag. The last thing that I did before leaving was to kiss Eweln farewell. Aunt Leena had not come back, and I carried sorrow thinking that I would not get to say goodbye. In my heart, though, I hoped that she would understand. Armed and raw I turned away from the only home that I had known and that night, under the bright, serene moon, I did as I intended. I left the Island.

  That was the moment that I was truly on my own in a world where there was no one to confide in or seek advice from. My survival solely rested in my hands.

  “Am I up to the challenge?” I softly whispered to myself standing there in the darkness. “I have no choice. I have to be.”

  PART TWO

  SEVEN

  The first night alone was terrifying. The woods came alive with strange noises—screech owls, unfamiliar nocturnal howls and bays, as well as the scurrying of small feet through the brush. Trembling, I forced myself to remain calm rather than give in to the urge to run back to the Island. Helplessness. Never in my life had I experienced such helplessness and vulnerability. As scary as it was, I kept resolute to my decision to leave and never look back.

  After crossing through the barrier of mists, I crossed the short, open grass field to the thick forest beyond. Stepping into the dark woods, the sense of isolation intensified, as did the apprehension of the unknown of what waited ahead of me.

  Many times, over the course of the dark hours, I debated going back but something always kept my feet rooted to my chosen path. The dark canopy of the trees provided glimpses of moonlight, beacons of peace through the endless dark. When I decided to stop for the night, I chose a small copse of trees to lay my head for the night.

  A group of thick, overgrown, soft-leafed bushes hid me from view. I didn’t bother to build a fire for fear that it would attract unwanted attention. Placing my pallet in the center of foliage, I lay down and curled up with my knees to my chest. The sounds of the forest were amplified as I lay there. Not even the owls, the scuttle of insects, and the movement of other forest creatures gave me comfort. Everything was so new and so alarming that my heart pounded wildly inside my chest. I shivered as I realized the enormity of what I had done. I had stepped out into the unknown for the sake of saving myself. I knew that the foreign land, no matter how harsh and unfriendly it was, would be an easier place for me to live than it would be back in the world that I left behind. My thoughts kept my mind busy until the Moon had crested and was now on its journey, headed towards the horizon. My eyelids grew heavy and I let out a silent yawn that showed the depth of my fatigue. Every time I started to drift off, another sound, another call brought me back to a completely awake state. As streaks of the dawn began to alter the darkness, strange birds chirped in the low-hanging branches over my head and woke me from a restless, difficult sleep. Many parts of my body still ached and throbbed from the assault that I suffered. The night spent upon the hard ground did nothing to ease the tightness in the muscles of my neck either.

  Choosing to take my breakfast on the road, I pulled out a bag of dried pears and continued my way through the woods. My eyes drank in everything around me as I nibbled the slightly sweet, chewy fruit. So much out here was so different compared to the Island. Taking in all the trees, flowers, shrubs, smelling the earthiness of the ground, and examining every little thing that caught my interest, I wondered at this world and a small bit of my fear gave way to curiosity. I tried to keep my speed up, moving at a steady pace. I knew that the chance of someone coming after me was almost non-existent, but I was certain that Aunt Leena would put out inquiries with the traders that were due in two days’ time. She would ask them to keep watch for me and if they spotted me, tell her of my whereabouts. Aunt Leena wouldn’t hesitate to come for me and beg me to return to the Island. As much as I loved her and Eweln, I would not allow them to be further tainted by their association with me. The people of the Island blamed me for what happened. The praise and gratitude that I had experienced just a few months previously was now replaced with distrust and revulsion. Reena has said it as clearly as I could hear the wind rushing in my ears now. To go back would make Leena and Eweln outcasts, too. I knew that it would not bother Eweln so much, but I knew the burden it would place on Aunt Leena. The people of the Island lo
oked up to her and held her in their favor—so much more than my mother. They relied on her for advice, for mild nursing, her expertise in midwifery, for recipes and a host of other things. The one thing that they did not do was take her word over Mother’s—even though many thought Leena wiser and more level-headed. The fact that Reena was High Priestess and Leena wasn’t had widened the divide between them. Eweln once told me that the two sisters had never been close. That like me, their Mother had favored Reena over Leena and that Leena too had been forced to learn much of what she knew herself. A pang stabbed at my heart as I envisioned Leena’s face and the faint echoes of her screaming at her sister, cursing her for driving me off. Leena understood more than I had given her credit for and I now wished that I had said farewell before leaving.

  I sensed Eweln too. It was as if she wanted to come with me but knew that this was something that I had to do for myself. “Go, child,” I could hear her speak across the distance, her voice like a faint whisper on the wind. Eweln would not question my reasons. Our minds were so in tune that at times, I could hear her thoughts and I knew that she could hear mine. She was my truest friend and knowing that I would never see her again was agony, yet that anguish did not stop my feet from moving. Instead, it compelled me onwards, across the rough, uneven earth, through the heavily wooded forests, the expanses of grassy fields, and far from the place that I never wanted to see again.

  ************

  Every day of my journey, I moved through the forest purposefully, taking care to stay off the trail but remaining close enough to find my way along. Several people—all strange looking men wearing body-length brown robes with their hair shaved on the crown of their heads, passed by me several times unaware of my presence. They spoke in a strange language that I found extremely intriguing. It was the outside language that Leena spoke. I resisted the urge to stop and ask help from them but didn’t knowing that my sole focus should be my journey.

  By nightfall, I reached the edge of the forest but decided to remain inside its boundaries for the night. I was braver than I had been the previous night. I chose a spot and built a small fire but kept it burning low to avoid the light from being seen at a distance. My shoulders relaxed, and my heart stopped pounding as I listened to the natural song of the Goddess speak around me. It was as if She favored my decision to choose my own path. To leave the Island was one of the greatest sacrileges in our community. The few that had done it were barred from returning. I tried to keep it from my mind but part of me wondered if my Mother would have me banished. That she would imbue the misty barrier, blocking me from crossing it again. Would the fact that I could bend the foggy barrier to my will make a difference in her curse? I simply didn’t know. The other part of me wondered whether Aunt Leena would counter Reena’s actions, keeping the veil forever open to me.

  I shook my head, casting the thought from my mind. No matter what happened, I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t go back, especially knowing how the people would treat me. The thought of moving to one of the uninhabited islands had tempted me at first but I quickly abandoned the idea. Even in that isolation, I would still be close enough to hear the echoes of their accusations and feel the intensity of their hostility. I would not live on the Island, knowing that being raped was not worth any shred of empathy. Even though the outside world was unknown, and I knew nothing about how it worked, or the people who lived within it, I knew that I stood a better chance of a better life beyond the Island’s shores.

  The fire popped, startling me. I thrust a stick into the fire, stoking the embers when the first sound left my blood cold within my veins. A howl sounded out, stopping me in mid-movement. A haunting high-pitched cry filled the wooded area and the hair on the back of my neck stood on edge.

  “What is that?” I said to myself and got to my feet. Another howl sounded, closer than the previous one. My heart pounded in my ears. I could hear my blood whooshing as it coursed through my veins. More howls came. Each one was louder, longer as if it were growing closer and closer. I did not sleep that night. I remained constantly on-guard just in case whatever it was that created that sound was coming for me. The howls stopped just before dawn. Even though the air was quiet again, I did not relax. Instead, once the light was strong enough for me to see without trouble, I packed my things, banked my fire, and fled the forest. I was not about to allow whatever that was have a second chance at frightening me again. With my packs on my back, my water bladder hanging from my side, and my knife tucked into my waistband, I left the woods and stepped out on to the open fields, eager to put as much distance between my former world and myself as I could.

  ************

  For a few days, I walked, stopping only for necessity or when the skies grew so dark that I could see nothing but the stars overhead and the Moon as it whittled away. On the evening of the fifth day, I lay beside my slight bed of smoldering embers that radiated a tremendous amount of warmth, thinking about what my next steps were going to be. Before I left, I considered a different outcome. In addition to living on one of the uninhabited islands, I had debated leaving my mother’s residence and moving in with Eweln. I had even thought about moving to the island to live with the Acolytes, even though I knew I wouldn’t be happy there with Grandmother gone. I quickly squashed that idea because of what it would require of me. Every Choosing Ceremony meant that I stood the chance of having to participate in the selection process and that would place me in front of the very people that would see me as a harbinger of disaster. The pain and the hurt in me could not live through that without my grandmother there to ensure that I would never be chosen and to offer me comfort, love, and assurance when I would need it most. Instead, I was faced with my only choice; to move on and not look back. By doing so, I would protect myself from a lifetime of humiliation, finger-pointing, and shame. The stigma of what took place would follow me across the Island. That knowledge rested in the very marrow in my bones and was very vivid in my mind’s eye. The faces of the people staring back at me, blaming me for the failure, spitting on me, abusing me, flashed in front of me and I felt a cold chill run down the length of my body. To be completely honest, I do not know if I could live with being called a pariah. Hot tears stung at my eyes once more and a fit of intense anger was born anew inside of me. Deciding that it would do me no good to allow the emotion to consume me, I pushed it down, making the decision to just leave it and drop it, rather than fixating on it. Instead, I willed myself to keep going, to stay on this current path until I found a place to establish roots and build my life. My thoughts lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep until I woke with the dawn and birdsong all around me.

  I stretched out and laid still for a moment, listening to the voice of the forest as I tried to pick out the sounds that were now starting to become familiar. Once the streaks of dawn began to brighten the air around me, I rose, washed, and ate a quick breakfast of oatcake and dried berries. After rolling up my pallet, I ventured back out into the world beyond the woods.

  ************

  The landscape of the outside left me awestruck and reeling with wonderment. In all my years, I would have never guessed at the enormity that laid beyond the Island’s borders. Thick forests I knew from the accounts Aunt Leena brought home. Her tales thrilled me with vivid descriptions of their strange clothes, customs, speech, and the collection of goods that they had bartered for.

  I could have never imagined that fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, or rolling, gentle hills covered in thick grass far softer than a blanket. And green. Green as far as the eye could see. The promise of life reborn. The beyond was fascinating and thrilling. Seeing it urged me forward and gave another purpose to my decision to leave.

  My trek took me along the coast where I saw the ocean for the first time. I stood on the shore for hours as the surf crashed around my feet and ankles, up my legs, and soaking the hem of my dress. While I stared out at the majestic, aquatic body that stretched to the horizon, I experienced genuine awe for the fir
st time since I first discovered the cornflower in my youth. Curious, I tasted the ocean’s water and found it very salty. Reluctantly, I left the ocean behind and journeyed back across the expansive fields. As I moved, I saw people and passed by dwellings that were far different than the ones I was familiar with.

  On the Island, we lived in huts, made of crafted wooden beams, twigs, and mud. Our roofs were thatched with dried water reeds, straw, and sedge, keeping the interiors dry until it wore down and needed replacing. Our homes were sturdy structures that remained cool in the summer and warm in the winter. In the outside world, homes were mostly constructed of clay, mud, and wet earth, reinforced by stones, branches, and anything else that could provide support. Their roofs were the only element that shared any similarity with my former home. These fascinating, crude, round-shaped homes gave off an aura of warmth and protection. Every home I came across was encircled by small, waist-high walls that penned in a vast assortment of animals—goats, chickens, sheep, cows—offering the livestock a closer, more intimate form of protection from the outside world.

  As I moved along my journey, I kept thinking about how foolish the Island people were. It didn’t take long to realize that it was a mixture of fear and willful ignorance that kept them so suspicious and so isolated. They refused to see the world as so much more than the small, remote paradise they believed was untouchable. Many times during those thoughts, I felt foolish for once believing that way too, yet I constantly reminded myself that to assign blame was futile. As I continued further along the unfamiliar path, I swore to look at this world with fresh eyes and never allow myself to miss the chance to live and experience what life had in store for me.