Chapter Four: She Who Swallowed the Moon

Content Warnings

None in this chapter I can find. If you find something you deem triggering please let me know and I'll add it!

The Elven Language

Ris-Asala - chief

Ris-Loresa - Storyteller

riselu - clansman/tribal member

Zulin ar - death to you

The tribe rallied the caravans into a circle and kept the elk harnessed. They waited in silence for the hunters and warriors to return. The children kept their voices low as they gossiped to each other. A few of the elders spoke together and then eyed Zahirana with worrying glances. And as the sun began to set, more and more clansmen began to look at her.

“Ris-Asala,” one of the elders greeted as he approached.

She wanted to correct him. She wasn’t Ris-Asala yet. She hoped it would be many long years until she was. But the cold look in his eyes told her to bite her tongue.

“Elder A’sa.” She bowed her head.

“In the morning, what is our course of action for the tribe?”

Her brow peaked up. “Course of action? We wait until Ris-Asala returns.”

His lips parted and then he groaned as if he didn’t want to argue. “The old Ris-Asala should have been here by now. If the scouts and hunters have not returned, we must fear the worst.”

Zahirana grimaced, lips curling in a tense smile. She gave a breathy, hushed laugh in disbelief. “That’s absurd. They have to trek the wilds at night. They’re probably tired.” She folded her arms to keep from shaking but her shoulders were caving inwards. “They’ll be here.”

He stepped closer, between her and the tribe. His voice was quiet, “You are our leader. You must be prepared for the worst.”

“I’m a child,” she hissed under her breath. “You can’t expect me to lead.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he corrected her.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, debating how hard she could bite it before it bled.

“That is why we elders exist to guide you.” He nodded as if the debate was over. “Now, what is our course of action?”

She curled her fingers into the soft skin of her arms and buried her nails down. She focused on the pinch of pain. It was small but it was enough to focus on. “The second meeting point is north of here. We will move there and wait.”

“Who will scout the area ahead of the group?”

Her gaze swept from the old man’s face to the tribe. Most of them were too old to be scouts. The rest were children far too young to have any real scouting skills. She settled her attention on a few budding teens who were still in their training.

The elder nodded as if he understood. “I’ll speak with them. You should speak with Ris-Loresa. He wanted to have counsel with you.”

She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth. She was tempted to bite a hole through it but she allowed it to roll free. “Thank you, Elder A’sa.”

Zahirana marched past him to the storyteller’s caravan. She knocked before climbing the steps and opening the door. “Forgive my intrusion.”

He sat in the middle of the space with a small table covered in a bear’s pelt. On top rested a stack of parchment that he had been reading. “Come in, Ris-Asala. We must talk about the temple.”

She huffed and closed the caravan door behind her. “I’m not Ris-Asala.”

He smiled. It was genuine and perhaps the first real smile she’d seen since returning to camp. She sat down across from him and looked down at the worn scroll. “I know you’re still young. I know this isn’t what you want.”

“Sarlen could…” Her throat closed around the rest of her words. She couldn’t speak it let alone admit the dangerous truth that was unfolding. “Where are they?”

“The temple of O’fayon.” He turned the parchment so she could see the images better. They were the same situations but the artist was different. Someone else had drawn these. Perhaps someone else had seen the mural long ago.

“You said something about a curse.”

“Curse. Prophecy. These words get thrown around too easily.”

She settled her hands onto the desk as patiently as she could. “Speak clearly. Is there a curse or not?”

He rolled his eyes shut. “I must tell you a painful truth, riselu. It is one we have kept from you. And from everyone in the tribe.”

She shifted in her seat, pressing her elbows into the thighs. “I’m not sure how much I can take, Ris-Loresa.”

His eyes slid open, his gaze void of sympathy despite his words, “Forgive me. It seems cruel to tell you now.” His lips thinned as if he were trying to keep the words locked inside a little longer. “You were not chosen by the gods.”

Zahirana sat back sharply, her head jolting away as if he had slapped her. She chuckled for some reason, the disbelief bubbling out of her. “Why did you—Why does everyone think I was?”

“Ris-Asala saw a terrible vision before your birth.” He placed his hands on the table, peering down at his palm forebodingly. “She saw the destruction you would bring to the tribe. She saw this very night, I suppose.”

Zahirana jumped out of her seat, nearly hitting her head on the curved walls of the caravan. She wanted to beg him to stop joking, that now wasn’t the time to tease her. But Ris-Loresa looked so pained that she knew his words were true.

“You lied to me,” she muttered.

“Ris-Asala believed if she could tutor you herself, offer wisdom and guidance, you would follow a different path.”

Her laugh came out too sharp and abrupt. She pressed her hands against her face before shoving them up into her hair. “Who else knows about this?”

“Only Ris-Asala and I know.”

Zahirana shook her head. “If you had told me the truth—”

“No,” he reasoned. “Telling the truth would have crushed you and everyone else in the tribe.”

“And the tribe dying is better?”

“Destiny is not written in stone,” he reasoned. “Our efforts to alter your destiny were not in vain. You can still make this right.”

She huffed. Then she laughed, a series of laughs that she couldn’t keep down. It was all too much.

“There are other temples.” He looked down at the parchment laid out on the table between them. “This mural is only the first.”

“If I go to these other temples,” she began, her voice cracking. “I can fix this?”

“Possibly.” He raised his brows at her. “Much of our history is lost, as you well know. But there are hundreds of ancient temples. We can not be certain which of them might even host the murals.”

“This one was strange, though. O’fayon is the god of wind. Why would O’fayon’s temple be here in the wilds? We can look for others like it.”

He chuckled and it was a genuine, sweet sound. “He is not only the wind god. Remember. What is the bedtime prayer we teach the children?”

“Every single night and day O’fayon shall be there, to guide and protect us with all his love and care. Each night before we fall asleep, reach up and kiss the sky. Tell O’fayon you love him and the rain will be his reply.”

“Where else does it rain more than here in the wilds?”

She balled her hands into fists and ducked her head down. “Forgive me. I should have…” Her throat clamped up and her nose began to burn as grief strangled her. “I have to go back. There might be another hint. I could find Sarlen and Ris-Asala.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

 “I have to try.” Zahirana started to move towards the door.

“The tribe needs you, riselu. Will you abandon them as well?”

Her hand wavered on the caravan’s door. “Sarlen is all I have left.”

“The tribe is your family, too.”

She froze with indecision. She wanted to follow her heart and race after her brother. Before she could consider her choice, a high-pitched scream broke the silence. It was an elk, a warning call that something dangerous was approaching.

Another scream followed, one of the children.

Zahirana threw open the door and scrambled out into the encampment. She saw the elders corralling some of the children. They were tugging them away from something. She searched the darkness, her elven eyes adjusting until she could make out the large shadow wrapped around the pale form of an elk. The longer she stared, the more she understood understand that the monster was eating it. It was the same monster from the temple.

“Run!” She raced towards Anise, where the child was frozen in fear, squeezing her doll against her face. She scooped up the child and carried her towards the rest of the fleeing tribe.

Ris-Loresa held out his arms and took Anise from her.

“Take the children and go to the second meeting point.”

He said it flatly, almost an order, “We will wait for you there.”

Zahirana nodded. “I’ll keep it distracted. If I don’t make it…”

“Keepers of Fate guide you.” He turned away and called for the tribe to follow him. He raced off into the wilds, climbing over the large roots of trees. The remainder of her tribe followed after him in staggering groups.

Zahirana spun around just as the monster abandoned its meal to settle its attention on her. She leaped across camp towards a bow. She drew an arrow from the nearby quiver and aimed for the beast’s glowing eyes. Between the eyes, she reasoned, letting the arrow’s feathers slip through her fingers. It whistled through the air. When it reached the beast, however, it scraped skin but the bone was like metal. The arrow clacked against the beast before clattering to the ground.

Its broad shoulders rocked back and forth as it clomped forward. She could see it clearly now. A canine, she thought. But it was too large to be a dog. It had the floppy ears of a puppy and a wrinkled snout like one of the human war hounds. Its black mane covered its head and down its back. It stood taller than an elk. Larger than the Great Bears in the north. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

She snatched up two more arrows and fired them off in succession. She fired the first at its throat but it bounced off again. The beast’s jaws snapped up the second arrow mid-air and clamped down on it. It spat the splintered wood out like a dog fetching a stick.

Zahirana tossed the bow aside. Magic then, she decided with regret. She wasn’t the most talented at casting spells. She reached out with her hands and coerced the trees to give her strength. She pooled their energy into the palms of her hands, just enough that it didn’t harm the trees. She flourished her hands, sweeping the energy through the air and bringing it together between her palms.

“Zulin ar!” She threw the energy across the closing space between her and the beast.

It jumped up onto its back legs and with a swipe of its paw, her attack was tossed aside like a child throwing away a toy. It growled then. It raised its forepaws and brought them together as if it too were summoning a spell. And she watched in horror as a golden orb of light began to bloom in its grasp, the same golden orb that had been painted into the mural.

She sucked down a shaky breath as the orb shot across the field and engulfed her vision. It was warm at first and then it burned, hot as a summer sun at noon. She stumbled backward but the energy was already upon her. It surrounded her. It seared her skin. Sweat pooled on her forehead but it was hot and clammy, lacing her entire body. Then, as quickly as it consumed her, it disappeared.

She fell to her knees. She couldn’t see anything but darkness. She shivered at the sudden loss of heat. The sweat chilled in the night air and left her damp hair clinging to her skin. She put her hands in front of her face but all she could see was the afterimage where the orb had burned into her vision.

She stilled, listening for any sounds to hint at the beast’s whereabouts. But the wilds were quiet. Not even the owls made noise. There wasn’t a single creature scurrying about in search of food.

When her vision finally cleared, the encampment was empty. She looked about but the creature was gone. She tried to focus on the events that transpired. The monster had used magic. She had never seen an animal of any kind summon a spell before.

She scurried to her feet but a dizzying sickness tugged her sideways. She stumbled until she fell to her knees and pressed her forehead into the cold dirt. She laid down against the soil and lush moss, breathing in the familiar scent of earth. Her home was so familiar to her and yet so foreign. It was as if the spirits of the forest were rejecting her.

She stared across the camp towards the dead elk and the scattered caravans. At least the other elk were released, she consoled her mind. They were free. But everything her tribe had worked for was abandoned. Everyone she loved was in danger and it was all her fault.

She forced herself onto her knees and crawled some distance before she had the strength to stand. She grabbed her bow off the ground and strapped the quiver to her back. The arrows she fired at the demon earlier were still on the ground like a bitter reminder.

She began to wonder again what had happened to the beast. And what was the strange gold orb that surrounded her? For now, it didn’t matter. For now, she had to find her tribe. She had to protect them at all costs and make up for her childish mistake.