Winter passed quietly. Their larder stored in their hut slowly diminished, supplemented with fish Biyu braved the cold and snow for. Other than fishing, they rarely left except to empty the privy or toss refuse. The fish proved a welcome fresh addition to their preserves, but the Kin were in torpor with much reduced appetites. Most of the time they were asleep, and Indu taught Biyu a few games to pass the hours. It was a bleak time when there was little to do and less reason to do it. Biyu spent much of her time not spent making her bone knife practicing a reed flute, but as the winter ground on it wore out until the notes were too sour to enjoy.

Spring came as a relief, with their larder growing thin. The days once more started to lengthen and the snows of winter melted more often. By the time the trees started budding, and the morning snow was just a brief dusting that melted before the morning was over, Biyu was anxious to return to her old routine. Her body was still strong, her daily exercises doubled during the sleepy winter, but her endurance had dwindled. It showed itself the most the first time she returned to the archery range, but she outlasted most of the Elves due to the enhancement of her body.

One day, when the weather was warm and the winter left behind, Biyu was called to join the young men and women of the village. Indu was there along with her current master. A dozen younger Elves gathered with a few hunters being sent along to protect them. Without fanfare, they left in boats, and Biyu had to ask Indu where they were going.

"To finish your knife," Indu answered, indicating the one on Biyu's hip. Biyu had been advised to always keep it on her, but not to use it too often until it was done.

"I see," Biyu said. Remembering dispute between Brandon and his daughter over how much to tell her, she did not pursue further answers.

Indu smiled, seeing her reticence to broach the forbidden topic. "It will be stronger afterward. A proper knife that might last you the rest of your life."

Biyu nodded and settled in for the trip. She had left the village a few times to harvest edible mushrooms and vegetation with the village children and youths last fall. Now that she nothing to do, except to keep an eye out for danger, she took her time enjoying the sights as a passenger. There were scenes she had not seen since her journey to the village a year ago, and many she had not seen before. Dappled sunlight danced on the surface of the water, and there were places where the water was just clear enough to make out fish just beneath the surface. She spotted what she thought was a snake, but it could have been an illusion made of branches and vines. It was too far away to tell. Wet leaf decay and the slight scent of sulfur with brief moments of stagnating water when the breeze shifted were the scents of the swamp that Biyu had long become acclimatized to, but sometimes they would pass a noxious cloud that had her and the youths holding their breathes or playfully complaining.

There were frogs, chirping insects, and the trill of birds returned from the north. It was a relaxing trip, and she felt no need to chat with anyone as she enjoyed it. The two youths she and Indu shared the boat with chatted amiably, not minding her presence or silence.

Heading west, they came to a forest. They beached their boats upon the shore, and gathered for the Shaman to give them directions. Everyone made sure they had their knife and had collected their travel bags. They were led by the Shaman further west while the hunters formed a protective ring around them.

The forest gave way to rocky foothills as evening came, and they made camp. Indu shared a lean-to with Biyu, curled tight in the evening cool under shared blankets. The night passed slowly, Biyu watching the evening stars and feeling strangely vulnerable spending a night out in the open. They were up before dawn, and began traveling after a quick meal. There was no time for her morning exercise, but she got plenty as they hiked further into foothills.

They followed a low path around the hills, heading deeper into the mountains. The hunters increased their alert, and would run off in small groups to scout the path while others climbed up the hills to either side. The mountains were the home to Goblins, even if they rarely appeared this far south. No one would risk an ambush.

After entering a stony ravine close to the mountains, they set up camp once more. This was their destination, and beginning the next day the Elves would be taken in pairs to complete their knives. Hunters began a guard rotation with youths and Biyu joining them in pairs. No one stood watch alone, to reduce the chance of one of them being taken ambushed without anyone noticing. Indu, as a Shaman, would accompany one of the youths to complete their knives. Biyu remain with the youths at the tents, helping with chores, standing a watch, or learning a bit of lore about the land from the hunters in lessons with the young Elves.

The following morning, after breakfast at the usual hour, the first pair left with a hunter and the Shaman. Biyu was on watch when the group returned for lunch. Indu ate with Biyu as she completed her shift, the hunter pointing out large birds flying high in the air and naming them. After lunch, Indu left with another group, and the last group was completed after dinner. It was after dark when they returned, and the hunter accompanying them was arguing with Indu's master about the wisdom of continuing so late.

That night was windy, the wind hollering through the ravine, and Biyu pressed tightly against Indu as the serpent woman tightly hugged her, seeking warmth from the foul wind.

The next day passed like the previous, until Biyu's turn came after lunch. She and a young Elven woman joined Indu and her master. They each had to show their knives before departing, even if they were obviously in their belts. Sometimes an Elf would mistakenly take a bronze or steel tool with them, neither of which could be used for the ceremony. That would lead to the Shamans having to make an extra trip, delaying their return to the village. This was a simple means of preventing that.

The ravine they entered was tall and rocky, and they meandered until they came to two large broad slabs of stone laying on the ground. They were obviously alters. Splatters of ocher paint decorated the tops, along with chips of dry clay. Indu led Biyu to one, and the Elf went to the other. As Biyu knelt before the altar, she looked past it at the stony land beyond. The place had a feeling of weight to it, like the world pressing in on them. It was subtle, and Biyu could almost convince herself that it was just her imagination.

Biyu laid her knife on the alter at Indu's direction. Indu gave Biyu a small cup of ocher paint and a brush, along with a small piece of paper with characters she had to paint along the blade of her knife. Biyu started to copy the first character, and she was immediately stopped. The character had been written the wrong way, and it was important to write it correctly. They started again, with Indu running her finger over each character to show how it had to be drawn. When Biyu made a mistake, they would carefully wipe away the character with a cloth before trying again. It took some time before Indu was satisfied, looking over the knife carefully and tracing the characters before nodding in satisfaction.

Biyu bowed over the knife, and repeated unknown words Indu spoke. They had to be said perfectly, and if she stumbled over one she had to repeat them again from the beginning. Fortunately, Biyu only needed to start over twice before she completed the words. That surprised Biyu, as even though she had to memorize a number of poems and songs, they all had a flow that could be grasped to help learn them. This was just nonsense to her.

Once they were done with the words, Indu had her knead a piece of clay around a hard chip of stone before shaping it into a loaf and placing it atop the knife. An offering for the spirit, she was told.

More words were repeated, and this time she was given pieces to memorize before saying it all at once. This took a long time, and the day started to cool when Biyu managed to say it all from start to end. When she was done, small humanoid figures approached from behind stones too small to hide them. They were featureless, like half-finished dolls made of clay with tall pointed hats and pointy beards that made their heads resemble the crescent moon. They came forward skittishly, their eyeless faces turned towards her. The other Elf already had a number around her altar while she and the Shaman sat very still.

The spirits crept up to the altar, their necks stretched and heads bobbing around as though to sniff the air. Perhaps it was a pantomime, as they had no noses, or it was the strange logic of spirits that they needed no noses to smell. One of them reached for the loaf, and Indu gave her a short new phrase. Biyu repeated it carefully, not moving. The spirit reaching for the loaf of clay halted on hearing them, then turned and scurried away. More did the same, but each time they fled her words a few more crowded in to replace them. Biyu patiently repeated the words each time they reached for the loaf.

All of Biyu's spirits startled as the Elf at the other altar cried out, and Biyu barely stopped herself from turning to look. One of the spirits halted as she repeated the words unprompted as a spirit attempted to snatch the loaf of clay while she was distracted. It paused at the words, then gripped the loaf. It hoisted itself onto the alter, and began to eat the loaf by shoving it against its face and letting blend in with its clay like body. Indu gave her a few new words, and Indu repeated them. The spirit's body blurred, and it sank into the blade beneath it.

Once it was gone, Indu put her hands on Biyu's shoulders, scaring away the hopeful spirits looking to see if there was a loaf for them.

"It's done. You have completed your knife. It's now strong like a hard piece of stone, but will still take a sharp edge." Indu paused, and squirmed. "There are words I'm supposed to say, but they don't really apply to you. The gist is, congratulations, now you're an adult of the village. Making the blade puts a bit of you in it… it's an effigy of you. Offer it, and you offer yourself. Keep it hone, to remind you to hone yourself. A vow on it is a vow made on yourself. The symbolism is important, stronger than just words alone."

Biyu nodded. "I am not a villager, am I?"

Indu shook her head. "Not really. Maybe they'll act a little different, finishing a knife means something, but… I don't think so."

They waited quietly while the other young woman completed her own knife. Finishing, she looked over at Biyu to see if she could boast, and pouted on seeing the Human who was never taught had managed it first. "You had help," she groused.

Biyu gave a nod. "You did it yourself?"

The girl puffed up a bit. "Yeah, I did! Messed up a bit though." She pouted again. "I'm not good at talking with the spirits. Not gonna be a Shaman."

Biyu perked up. "Is that one of the reasons you do this? To test if someone can be a Shaman?"

"Ya," the girl said. "It's a bit of an honor, being a Shaman. It's like being a young Elder." She glanced at Indu, who was trailing behind them with her master.

"Well, snaky girl don't count. I mean, when your mom's a god?"

Biyu felt a pang at that. "Master has Elven children too, does she not?"

The girl pursed her lips. "Ya, I think there is an Elder and maybe a couple hunters? We don't really keep track of that. I mean, doesn't make a lot of sense for someone to be all that special 'cause their parent was."

"You just said Indu was."

"Well, ya, but she is closer. I mean, she's more Sacred Beast than People."

Biyu bit back the urge to argue. "She has always been a person to me."

"Ya, but then…" the girl trailed off, and then looked at Biyu again, her eyes glancing back and forth. "Ah, sorry. Forgot—I mean forget it!" She nodded her head and then trotted a little ahead.

There was another day to complete, this one slow for Biyu who spent more time looking at her knife of bone and leather than anything else. She herself had enchanted it, and that had more meaning than she had expected. Eventually, she put the blade away. Looking around, she noted she was not alone in admiring their finished blades. More than a few Elves were already keeping the bone knives on their hips, the ornamentation of beads and feathers distinguishing it from common tools.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Time passed, Elves steadily completed their knives, and it came time to return. The trip in reverse took the familiar scenes of their trip out and made them new again. The fact that the view coming and going was so different was something Biyu was still new to. Crossing rocky ground while watching the forest loom into a row of trees edged with choking brush reminded her of leaving her village, but only in broad strokes. The trees were a different kind, and here the ground dipped down into a hollow the trees grew in. They camped in the forest this time, not quite reaching their boats. The last night of their journey, there was a small feast to celebrate, and the Shaman performed a few tricks for entertainment. It was an affair just for those who had finished their knives, the real party not until they returned to the village. The night here was warmer than in the ravine, and Biyu had a good night's rest after having her fill looking at the stars.

When they reached the boats, one of the hunters had the corpse of a goat. They put it into the boat Indu and Biyu had claimed. No one else joined them, splitting up among the rest. Indu took charge of piloting their boat. For a while, they followed the others before Indu turned them in a different direction while giving a hand sign for goodbye. Biyu shifted from watching for pleasure to paying attention as they split off, realizing she needed watch for the many dangers of the swamp.

They traveled a while until they came to a small meadow rising up in the middle of the swamp. Trees surrounded the meadow, with a colorful woven rope decorated with charms strung from tree to tree as an enclosing boundary. Indu brought the boat into a nook between some roots to hold the boat steady and keep it from drifting.

"Take the goat, and toss it into the grass. Do not go near the rope."

Biyu lifted the small corpse. As she shifted its weight, the boat rocked, and Indu wedged her pole into the branches and the boat to keep it from tipping. Stepping out onto a root, Biyu managed to get a firm footing, and she heaved the animal over the rope and a few feet into the meadow where it landed with a splat. A bad smell rose up as the goat landed, flattening a patch of grass. Unable to get a good view from ground level, Biyu lifted herself up into the tree, careful not to cross the boundary.

At first nothing notable happened, except the body slowly sank into the muck. Suddenly, the body jerked. There was a cracking sound as the body of the goat suddenly jerked as if gripped from within the mud. The body jerked and shook back and forth, and the bones in the body made grinding noises as it started to rise back out of the mud, revealing the lower half had been crushed and ground.

Something started to rise up from the muck, sharp points sloughing off the viscous muck of the hidden quagmire. Strangely jointed fingers held the goat, blood squeezing out of what Biyu tried to think of as a fist. The smell of rot increased as the squelching horror revealed itself. Bones poked out of the slimy mud connected in all the wrong ways. It had too many torsos, some large and some small, haphazardly joined with legs and arms that flailed wildly. Skulls adorned the body, stuck without rhyme or reason, dominated by the head of a deer with its massive rack of antlers on top of the amalgamation.

A burbling hiss of sound rose up, as it reached another jerking, misshapen limb for the corpse. Bits of decayed flesh and fur showed as the coating of mud revealed more of the body beneath. Worms or leaches squirmed within the flesh, their naked white flesh glistening as they wriggled. It grasped the goats head, and then the limbs jerked apart, ripping the animal in half. The thing proceeded to rip and tear into the goat, peeling off its fur and shredding the flesh. The limbs were torn off. Leeches or worms wriggled along limbs, racing to the fresh flesh. The creature of mud, flesh and bone made more noises, the many skulls turning towards Biyu. Then it hurled a leg at her, and she lightly dropped from the tree back into the boat.

"Its angry because the goat wasn't alive," Indu said. Her voice was tightly controlled as she freed her pole and worked them from the roots. She yelled at the thing in the language Biyu thought of as spirit speech, and it burbled back while reaching for the boundary.

"It cannot pass the barrier," Indu said as she pushed the boat away. They moved quickly away as the thing shied away at the edge of its meadow. "But with Sucking Death, I will not risk it." There was a wet roar and raucous noises as the creature made its rage at being denied known.

Once they had gone far enough that they could no longer hear the creature, Indu offered an explanation. "That was Sucking Death. It is an abomination." She paused, considering how to continue. "That is a place where things die. The mud holds fast, sucking you down into it to drown. It is also a place where magic pools, and spirits are created. That mud pit made spirits of mud and death. What do you think a spirit of death does?"

"Kill?" Biyu asked.

"That's what most people imagine. That's not what they actually do. They lure, trick, or charm people into entering dangerous places. At night, they can appear as ghost lights, little flashes of light that appeal for the viewer to follow. They can be a desire a person can't quite place, beckoning them to go somewhere they shouldn't.

"So, there are spirits of death to lure the victim, and spirits of mud that drown them. That's not all. The spirits have learned how to bind souls, making them into something akin to a demon, but not. It's a necromantic horror, a conglomeration of victims and vengeful spirits, that grows stronger with every death. Even animals feed it."

They turned to look back the way they had come, as though they could see the horror that only got worse as it was described to Biyu.

"That is where Mother puts the souls she finds repugnant. The ones forbidden to mingle with the souls in her Hell. She traps them in Sucking Death, where they are forever tormented with the feeling of drowning to death, the ravishes of frustrated vengeful spirits, and the death spirits intent on spreading the misery to others. That is the worst punishment Mother has. She uses it as a punishment of last resort."

"Will the boundary hold if it fed?" Biyu asked.

"We regularly renew it. Sucking Death is far weaker than Mother. If it were to get free, though, it would be a pox on the Empire. The world. I think the Sacred Beasts would join the gods of the Empire to destroy it." She gave a small shudder.

"Why is it not in Master's Hell?" Biyu asked.

"Mother finds it distasteful… and we use Sucking Death for executions of the very worst offenders. That said, she keeps it close to her Hell."

Biyu looked around. "We are near her Hell?"

"Not anymore."

Biyu nodded. It took a while before she asked the question. "How does she know who deserves that kind of punishment?"

Indu considered that, before looking at Biyu. "If you want an answer, ask the Sinner. He knows all of our greatest crimes. I prefer not to think about it."

"Is it a great spirit?"

"We don't know. It speaks, but it is obviously mad. It has more than one voice, and it calls itself by more than one name. We think it really is a conglomeration. Many things made into one whole."

There was silence while they traveled, Indu giving Biyu time to take in what they had seen and talked about. Putting cheer into her voice, Indu said, "Our next stop is much more pleasant. It's where I got the wood for your mask."

"What is the next great spirit like?"

"We call it Dryad Tree. An old tree that collected enough mana to become a spirit, then gained a soul. It is a kindly spirit. It gives us wood to make living spears. You have never seen one in use, have you?"

Biyu shook her head.

"Imagine a spear that can bend to attack your opponent rather than just strike straight. A weapon that can heal damage to itself including fixing its own tip. The hunters covet them, and each of them work to earn their own. There is a ceremony for earning it. Perhaps you will be allowed to participate, but I do not think so. It takes years to earn that privilege."

Biyu nodded at that, trying to imagine fighting a person with a weapon that actively worked with her opponent to fight her. Lately her spars required her to face two opponents, with Weapon Master pointing out that with her advantages he expected more from her.

They entered a piece of marsh surrounded by swamp, and lifting her head up to take in its massive height, Biyu could not believe she could not see it from the village. It was a mighty oak, a tree that should not be in a swamp, and technically it was not. It grew on top of a small rocky island, the stone cracked by thick roots.

Sitting in the boat, Biyu stared at the tree and took in its magnificence.

"Impressed?" Indu asked as she pushed their boat onto the island. She urged Indu to leave the boat and walk toward the tree.

Biyu nodded. "Why do we not see it from the village?"

"Mother is the swamp, yes? So she can control it. The swamp is larger than it should be, though only by a little bit if you don't include her Hell. If you are not a villager, navigating the swamp will twist and turn you about, trying to lead you back out. Invaders will be attacked by the animals here, and you have seen how dangerous they can be if you aren't prepared for them. Knights could be a hassle… but it amounts to, if Mother does not think you should be able to see something, you will not. Dryad Tree should be visible outside the swamp, but I assure you no Human has seen it. Let me see if it will appear to us in its body."

Indu looked up at the tree, and spoke a few words in the language Biyu was starting to find familiar. The leaves shook in response, though it could have been a breeze. Indu spoke a few more words, and gave a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, Biyu, she will not appear for us today."

"That is fine. I think this is enough." She thought for a moment, and then asked, "Do we have time?"

"I'll show you one more spirit, but it's in the village. We are only a little way away, so we have a bit of time. Not much if we want to return before dark."

Biyu turned, and gave a deep bow to the spirit. Straightening, she took a practiced straight backed pose. Taking a moment to remember the music, Biyu started to dance at the base of the tree. It was a dance of gratitude, one of the ones she had been well instructed in. She went through the motions with practiced ease, and she could feel she was keeping the tempo even without the music.

Indu watched, her face slack as she watched the display. The movements were crisp and exact, nothing like the dances Biyu had taught her. When Biyu was done, she finished with another bow. She remained bent for a long time, an obeisance to the great spirit she did not know the worship of. The hairs of her body stood on end as a surge of power flowed her. It lasted but a moment, and the tree shook.

"Your offering is appreciated, and you have been given a gift." Indu swallowed. "The Dryad Tree has gifted your mask with the seed of a soul."

Biyu rose from her bow, so she could bow once more and more deeply in gratitude. She did not think she needed Indu's translation for the next susurration. Rising, she went with Indu back to the boat.

Indu was silent as they return to the village, where an Elf helped them tie up the boat to the side of the raft and give Indu a hand up. Biyu followed, and thanked the Elf. He waved it off, returning to the village.

"I have to tell my Master about that," Indu said. Awe lit her face as she looked at Biyu.

"It was a gift for a gift. I did not deserve more," Biyu said. "When a god grants you a boon, you return an offering."

Indu nodded, and she asked, "Are you a Shaman, or whatever Humans have?"

Biyu contemplated that. "Gods do have Priests, but most of the time nobles lead their people in feasts, celebrations, and worship. So, I am something like one when there is no Priest."

"Oh," Indu said. "I thought a noble was just a person who told other people to do things."

Biyu favored Indu with a smile. "That is a part of it."

Evening was upon them, and fires were lighting up the raft for the evening revelry. They came to a hut, and Indu opened the door and led them in. The room smelled of fermenting fish, and Biyu could not choose between disgust and hunger at the scent.

Indu led them to a large covered pot. It was obviously old but well cared for. Indu touched the pottery surface. "This is Fermentation Pot." She gave a smile. "It is very old, and has been used to ferment fish every year for at least a hundred years. It is a greater spirit, and unlike others… well, Pot, this is Biyu. A Human."

There was a quiet hiss of gasses, and then a deep, breathy male voice spoke. "A Human? Oh, how exciting! What is a Human?"

"They are… Biyu? I don't know how to answer that."

"Elves that hate Elves," Biyu said.

Indu snorted a laugh, and covered her mouth.

Pot hummed. "You hate Elves?"

"Not really. I used to, but now I do not."

"Oh, so now you are an Elf?" Pot asked cheerily.

"No, but it is hard to give a better answer."

"Oh. Well, I don't really know what Elves are, so it's all good, I guess?"

Indu gave Biyu a smile. "Pot is very old, but he is not very wise. He mostly just makes fermented fish taste better."

"Oh yeah! When I do that, you all are so nice to me. You give me things and dance for me and give me food I can't eat. It's so nice."

Biyu chuckled, and put a hand against Pot. It felt no different from other pottery. "Should I dance for you too?"

"Oh, will it be a Human dance? I've never seen one of those! Please do! I can't actually see anything, though. No eyes. I tried to talk them into giving me some, but they refused."

"It would ruin your aesthetic," Indu said.

Biyu thought a moment, and then she did a dance she rarely practiced. It was closer to a tumbler's performance than a dance, and she felt silly doing it. She rolled and bounced around the room, careful of the other pots. It included moments of stamping her feet and clapping her hands, before another round of dancing. At the end, she gave a short bow.

"Oh, that was fun!" Pot said.

"You saw it?" Indu asked while Biyu straightened her clothes.

"Of course not!" Pot said. "How could I see any of that? I could feel it though. Joy and merriment! Like you people at night, but all for me. Thank you!" It was silent a moment, and they prepared to leave. "Wait! I'm supposed to do something nice for you, because you did something nice for me, aren't I?"

"It is in thanks for when I eat the fish you ferment. Something you have done, and will do."

"Eh, but I already get thanked for that. This feels special. Like I should do something more. Hey! Master!"

There was a moment of silence as Indu and Biyu looked at Pot.

"What do you need, Pot?" Shishi asked. She was behind them in her Human guise, without having passed through the door. Biyu and Indu startled at her appearance.

"Biyu did a nice dance for me. What do I do? Like, I have to do something right?"

Shishi hummed to let Pot know she was thinking. "Sometimes one is thanked for things they did not do, Pot. We try to repay them, but sometimes there is nothing we can do. Little Pot, give them thanks, and do your best to make the fermented fish just a little better."

"Oh, I already do my best! And they always thank me for it." Pot chattered its lid a moment. "Thank you Biyu. I… no! Bring me a fish. A little one. I'll ferment it, just for you!"

"Thank you, Pot. It is late, and I have tasks to do. May I bring it tomorrow afternoon?"

"You better, or I'll curse you!"

Biyu turned to Shishi. "Master, is he allowed to do it?"

"When you snub the favor of a god? Of course, he can."

At the words, Biyu paused to look at Pot once more. A large old piece of pottery that had a mind and a soul. A person and more than a person. A young god, like her. And it was pottery. Biyu had to put it out of her mind. It was a last absurdity in a truly absurd day. If she thought about it too much, she thought she might break.

She bowed. "Of course, Pot. Be patient. I am going to catch a fish, just so you may bless it for me."

The pot could not do anything, but she could feel its smugness at her promise.