Chapter 2

Tribulations

Oh gods, I did that thing I hate. I started on a cliffhanger, went backwards, and dallied too long. You’re probably wondering about that eagle talon thing? Well, let’s just skip ahead a bit.

The next few trials were pretty uneventful. I could probably draw them out in some kind of convincing narrative, but it’s not really necessary. I passed them all easily. I snuck around, I hunted the prey, I hauled the carcasses, I knew poisonous versus edible flora, I held my breath (not as long as some, but well enough to hunt a caiman), I climbed the trees, and I scouted the area. I even fisticuffed properly (the only one I didn’t pass stunningly. I mean, I passed, just not that well).

The final test, though, the one I’d been panicking about, hit me hard. I’d been practicing with Fylh the whole time and never once got a spark. Fylh tried to keep me calm, bless her heart, but I was inconsolable.

“You’ll get it in the moment,” she would say, holding me from behind and kissing my neck. “You’re almost there.”

“I’m really not, Fylh.”

“You’re trying so hard, though. M’rfae will bless you in your time of need. It will be like the stories. ‘Just as everyone had given up, as she herself almost had, she decided ‘No, I must do this.’ And she did, as the power flowed through her!’”

“Sure.”

“It will! You watch.” She squeezed me in a hug and kissed my neck again.

And I just muttered back, “I hope so, Fylh.”

The Huntmaster called to me from the bridge, so I kissed her goodbye and jaunted down. She waited a time before coming down, then joined us. It wasn’t a matter of shame, we weren’t worried people would know we were lovers. Our huts didn’t have doors, after all. It had more to do with my betrothed, who we’ll get into later.

“You ready to finish your training, Tab?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be…” I muttered to myself before remembering who I was talking to. “I mean, yes, Huntmaster!”

“Relax, Tab. Don’t strain yourself. The calmer you are, the easier this task will go.”

“You’re using my short name, I forgot myself.”

“I should hope you think of me as a friend, if not of you, of your family certainly.”

“If… If not for your station, Huntmaster. You have an… intimidating presence.”

“So intimidating that you forget proper speech when I talk to you?”

I blushed invisibly (you can feel it, even if you can’t see it!) “Well… intimidating when I remember who you are, anyway.”

“That sounds about right.” She laughed as we went, and I just tried to not blind myself with flop sweat.

By the time we reached the ritual grounds, I was dying to get it over with. My anxiety had run its course, and I had, at this point, accepted that I was either going to succeed or fail, and one of those two just needed to happen already.

For this ritual, we stood on a runic circle painted into a flat, stony surface in a glade. The Huntmaster tames a beast to show us how it’s done. Afterwards, the trainee has to go out and tame one themselves.

“You must be careful when taming,” Sklypna explained, “for the beast must be free. A caged or trapped beast will resent you and return only feelings of anger. The point of this spell is to join your minds so the beast may select you. The first part of the spell to relax; it calms the beast down so it’s willing to listen to reason, then the second half joins your minds, so you may convince it you are an acceptable partner.”

The hunters came together to the circle and all channeled magic into the circle. It lit up a scarlet red, and Sklypna drew magic from it. She showed off the swirling ball in her hands, then looked to the skies. The spell shot from her hands with wild crimson tendrils and hit a coriad squarely. It dropped a bit, but caught itself, then flew down to a post nearby.

The Huntmaster approached the bird, put a hand on its head, and they both closed their eyes. After a minute, the coriad opened its eyes and sidled onto Sklypna’s arm. She held it aloft, and the hunters clapped ceremoniously.

“I have told you the methods of talking to the animals, and you have seen the ritual performed. There is another ritual circle further out to the west. We will guide you there, assist in the ritual, and confirm your tame.”

“Yes, Huntmaster.” I saluted her, then followed the troupe of Hunters deeper into the jungle. The walk felt like desses, but my feet could tell it wasn’t far. Eventually, we hit the circle. It was tucked into small canyon of the mountains, hidden by a wall of vines. The hunters took their places, and the Huntmaster nodded at me. I took the same position she held, and they channeled their magics.

The rune lit up around me, and I froze. I had no idea how to draw the power. Sklypna could tell; she walked up and helped me to draw the power properly. I followed her instructions, but it took four tries to hold it properly.

I held the magic in my hand and felt it sink into me like a thousand mosquitos. There was no pain, just this bizarre feeling of something pressing into me. A swirl of bright red energy swirled in my hands, like a churning ball of worms, and I stared at it. It felt bizarre.

It’s hard to describe exactly the feeling in my head at that moment, but if it makes sense, I was disturbed that I held such intense power in my hands, and that it wasn’t mine. I took it from the other Hunters; I had no way to draw it myself. Like five people lifting you up and telling you you’re walking; you know you’re not, but what are you gonna do about it, right?

I held the magic in myself for a few minutes until I spotted an eagle. I followed her instruction, clenched my palm tight, then pointed with force at it. The spell ripped out of my arm in a fashion hard to describe (not painfully, but almost a mental, metaphorical pain, if that makes sense?) and shot at the eagle.

It made a connection, and the eagle shook its head, then looked right at me. It flew to a lower branch, and stared at me.

“Go on,” the Huntmaster said. “Keep your fist clenched as you approach it, then open your palm and put a hand to its head.”

“It doesn’t look very happy. I don’t think it wants to be tamed.”

“Birds can’t emote with their faces very well. Eagles always look stern.”

“Shouldn’t I be doing a capybara or a coriad or something? Something that might not kill me if I do this wrong?”

“It will be okay, Tab. The ritual has worked for more wends than our storytellers can count.”

I trusted her, and proceeded. The eagle’s eyes bored into my soul, and I couldn’t tell if it was telling me I was going to die, that it wanted to kill me, or that it was just waiting impatiently for me to get this over with. Against my better judgement, I pushed on, forcing my feet to pick up one after the other and meet with this eagle.

My palms dripped sweat as I approached and put the magic-infused palm to the side of the eagle’s face. What happened next, I have intense difficulty putting to words. It did not feel like a traditional taming, something was wrong. Our minds interfaced, but there were gaps in the connection, like talking through a thick wall or reaching for something, but only being able to touch it with your fingertips.

We could communicate, but it was strained. My message wasn’t getting through, and the eagle wasn’t receptive to me. It was angry. The first step of the ritual hadn’t worked. Something specific went through wrong and set the eagle off. It flapped its wings, and I fell backward, breaking the connection.

Then, the bird laid siege to my face.

I tried to fight it off, but it was too heavy, too strong. Its claws rent my face, a hard beak pecked hard at my skull, and a talon sunk into my eye before it finally flew off, satisfied.

As I lay there in the dirt, unable to see (one eye stung with blood, the other was in pieces), my face covered in blood and my entire head hurting with indescribable pain, I passed out.

I woke up with Fylhoraeth standing over me. My vision was blurry, but I saw her constellation. When she was directly above me, she had a big ol’ snake that I always pointed out. I named it ‘Karana.’

When I invoked her star-snake’s name, she jumped and called other Healers over. It was then I realized I couldn’t breathe. My body was seizing, and I couldn’t control myself. I stared wildly ahead at the team of Healers pulsing magic into me and holding me in position.

That lasted a minute or so, after which my body calmed down and I regained control.

“How do you feel, Tabby?”

“I’m alright, love.”

My vision was clearing up, I noticed, as I could see her turn awkwardly to look in another direction.

“Your betrothed is here, wants to see you.”

Alright. Let’s talk about this dude. Kilreath. I grew up with this guy, he was my absolute best friend in the world for a long time. We were real close. That all changed the first time we… got together.

We went out running with Fylh and another friend, Sildon, a friend of ours, and came upon the Moon-Lit River, which I would later learn the world calls the Butat River. Massive river running south from the mountains. It was during the sunset, so the waters were still warm (comparatively, anyway). We all decided it was a great idea to strip down and swim. It was great, we swam around, we had a grand time, and when we got back on land, we all took time to… explore each other’s bodies.

This was around twenty wends before the trials I’m talking about, so I was only around one-thirty, Fylh was barely older. She was filling out nicely, already getting her hips and boobs, with long hair and a tall build, but I was a late bloomer. The hips weren’t coming in, and the boobs, well, honestly, they never came in properly.

The boys had both come along nicely, both quite in-shape with… let’s just say ample manhood. Fylh wanted to measure them, see whose was longer, I was awkward and did not take part in the measuring. Well, things progressed from there, and Kil and I found ourselves by the fire while Fylh and Sil enjoyed each others’ company a number of meters away.

I know, I know. But it’s not weird. Not to us. Like I said, we don’t have doors on our rooms, just a curtain at best, so we regularly heard our neighbors, our friends, even (especially) our parents. To this day, I don’t understand how the rest of the world is so uncomfortable with sex. But the point is it wasn’t all that strange for our friends to get together within eyesight of our fire, not like you might find it.

Well, Kil and I get talking, and he tells me he’s always had a thing for me. I have to admit, I had considered him numerous times. He was nice, in-shape, had a niche already forming in the community, he’d make a fine life-mate, or even just for-a-while-mate. I was awkward and didn’t want to say anything, so he kept talking. He told me about how he longed for me, how he wished he could have been with me ever so long ago and how he dreamed of me at night.

“I’m sure you ‘dream of me’ at night,” I remember snarking at him before literally clasping my hands over my mouth, shocked at myself. He just laughed.

“Yeah, that too.” It was in that moment the attraction hit me hard. He was pouring his heart out, I made a joke in poor taste, and he just laughed it off. Nothing makes someone more attractive than a sense of humor. The perfect curves of his outline and the… rest that was still in my sight sure didn’t hurt, though.

I leapt on him, pinned him to the ground, and kissed him. I ravaged his body that night, and it was...

Underwhelming.

I woke up before everyone else after that fiasco. The sunset was dying off, night would be setting in after a few cents, and I knew we had to get back, but I found myself staring at these sleeping forms.

The chill hadn’t set in quite yet, so I stood on the beach listening to the rushing water, arms crossed over my chest, staring at the naked starscapes of my friends.

Sil was spooned up with Fylh, both contentedly cuddling in the dirt fast asleep making a little combined sky and Kil was… I don’t know what he was. Sleeping, I suppose, but it felt like more than that. This person I’d shown my soul to, I’d bonded with, I’d shared my first time with, was just sleeping. He was comfortable, basic, standard, as though he were at home, like any other sleep.

I felt sick. My brain was telling me to run, cry, collapse, die, and scream all at once. Instead, I stared at him. I don’t know how much sleep I got, I don’t know how long I stared at him, but life slowed down to try to process what happened. This great life-changing occurrence felt hollow. Empty. I felt absolutely nothing for baring my soul to my best friend in the world, and if his sleeping body language was to be trusted, neither did he.

Eventually, the rest got up, we all went back to town, and… Gods, I wish I could say never talked about it again.

Everyone knew. Everyone. My mother congratulated me, people giggled at me as I passed, said things like “How was it?” and “Welcome to womanhood,” cheesy stuff like that. I could have dealt with that. But when Kil informed me that we were to be wed, I lost it. Well, no, I didn’t, but I lost my mind, effectively.

He said his parents decided we had to be wed since we bonded like that. I guess his story of the night was different from mine, because he felt spiritually tied to me all of a sudden. I still felt empty. This loving, adoring boy who wanted nothing but to share his life with me was nothing to me. I couldn’t even look at him as a friend anymore. I felt dead inside.

That was around the time I dedicated my life to being a Hunter. He was always so proud of me for chasing my dreams, for fighting so hard to be the best. I honestly only did it to get away from him. By the time of the eagle-incident, I was adept at faking it, but I still wanted nothing to do with him.

“Hello, my love.” The boy my age stood over me, shorn hair making a ragged, spiky outline, the very beginnings of a beard roughing up his cheeks, just barely visible from the sweat-caked dirt on his face, and the perfect sound of feigned happiness in his voice. I could tell he was upset, but kept a smile in his voice to not worry me.

“Hey,” I smiled weakly. I still couldn’t see out of my ravaged eye, but the other was clearing up. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, got some good catches, but that doesn’t matter. How do you feel?”

“Like a bird ate my face.”

“And yet your stars shine bright enough to light up the forest.”

“I’m sure my bloody matted hair is super hot, Kil.”

“You’re gorgeous no matter what happens to you, my love.” He absolutely loved calling me ‘my love,’ like he was reinforcing that I somehow belonged to him.

Now stop, don’t start with me. I know that’s not what he meant, that’s just what my jaded mind told me. But it felt like it.

“I’m sure,” I rolled my eye, then turned to Fylh. “How do I look?”

“I just told you, hon, you look—”

Fylh cut him off, reading my mind adeptly. “Not good, Tabby. I’m glad you’re awake, but surprised. Your right eye is gone. You lost a lot of blood, and your face is… ribbons. You’re gonna get out of this, but you’ll have scars forever.”

Scars are a funny thing to Nojern folk. You can’t really see our physicality, just our stars. But scars… They heal up black and void-y, but the stars don’t shine through them. They collect dirt and oils real fast, so they show more than the rest of the skin. I knew I’d be spending my life washing my face twice as much or more, having people twist about to look at me from another angle, since my head didn’t look quite right… It seems small to flatskinned folk, but it sticks with you.

“Will my sight come back.” It wasn’t a question. I already knew the answer.

“I wasn’t kidding, Tabby. Your eye is gone.”

I cried. I couldn’t roll over, so I cried lying down, and Kil put a hand to my shoulder and rubbed gently, telling me it would be alright and that he was here and it was okay. I ignored him, distracted with my permanent deformation. Part of my brain was somewhere else from the pain, part was just horrified that I lost something so… deep. Another part was just wondering what my eyepatch would look like.

I didn’t realize until after noticing each of those why I was crying.

I lost the trials. I failed the test. I wouldn’t be a Hunter.