He frowned back at me. “Don’t you know? It involves both of us, and it’s how we’re going to make humanity a civilization again. A strong civilization. Like when humanity first became a civilization. Because mostly, we live in tribes, not these new villages that only began popping up a century ago.”
He drew away from the hug and sighed, as I did with him.
“There is a way…set someone up as a hero…make them the hero that the prophecies told of…” He said, and I was happy that he wasn’t crying anymore, even though I was.
“But who would it be?” I asked.
“He wanted it to be me.” Ani’sja said. “He approached me in the months leading up to your duel, saying that there had to be an end to barbarism…that we could not go on like this…that we had to return to the laws of the Golden Age, as he called the Golden Days…as always, I don’t know…”
“No,” I said, “You do. You just can’t doubt yourself or else you may not know. My father told you the plan, not me, anyway, so you know better than me in any case.”
He nodded. “Still…it’s hard to puzzle out how we will unite all of the tribes…”
I nodded to him.
“…But it may be through war.”
No, I thought, No, my father would never even think of that, he would never, he would never want that…he just isn’t that type of person, no doubt about it. He cannot be that kind of person. But maybe he is…or maybe he sees something on the horizon…maybe he wants to do something before he dies. Maybe this is the only way.
But my father was a good person, I knew it…and he would try to find another way.
“Ani’sja, he would try to find another way,” I said to him and he only nodded.
The next day we picked up the tribe to go south. While we were going south, I walked next to Ani’sja and we discussed my father’s plan.
Ultimately, we came to the conclusion that the plan would have to involve blood being spilled, for the tribes would never agree to come together in one single civilization unless some of the tribes were threatened. It was simple: because of the war, a great amount of them did not want to civilize again, even if they could get to the height of the Golden Age in only a few thousand years, because of the number of people and the technological inventions left behind that we would be able to encode if we were all united in a single civilization. We also came to the conclusion that humanity would eventually become a civilization again, and maybe even surpass the Golden Age in prosperity but it would just take longer. But maybe they would forget what had happened before and they would make the same mistakes and have another Great War and we would be left with what happened before.
And so we contemplated my father’s plan even more.
For the next few months, nothing happened except for our conversations about his plan, and us starting to make our own plan. Because maybe there was a way to do it with minimal bloodshed.
“I got it,” Ani’sja said one day. “What if we use weapons?”
We were in the small hut that was now built for me, as the chief said that I deserved a house of my own earlier than most. The moonlight shone through the wooden hut and illuminated him in the darkness while we were cleaning up.
“Woah, Ani’sja,” I said, and when he did not laugh I said, “Wait you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” He said grimly. “We could blast a piece of land and say that if they do not civilize, we will do it to them.”
“Well,” I said, hating that plan, “You’re wrong about it. We can’t do it. It wouldn’t work, first, as we don’t even know where the weapons managing centers are, and even if we did, they probably wouldn’t be functional. It’s been a thousand years since the war, they can’t be operational. Even so, they would know that it was a bluff. Besides, how would we know where the tribes are at that exact time anyway? Only the people of the Golden Age had that kind of technology. The tribes would just have to move out of their place. And we couldn’t do anything about it.
“And,” I said, making a split-second decision, “I would make the perfect uniter of the tribes.”
He frowned. “Where did you get that idea?… Besides, it’s too dangerous. I would do better.”
“No,” I said, and said, “I fulfill all of the prophecy, every word of it, and,” I thought for a moment, seeing a flaw in what I was saying, “There is a ‘man’ in ‘woman.’ Maybe they just only said half of it…we could also say that the Shantus of that time lied to us, or the story was mixed up over the generations.”
“Hmmm…” He sighed. “It would work…but doing so would only make you a target, as people would try assassinate you…I think that I speak for myself when I say that I wouldn’t want you putting yourself in danger a second time…but I do get where you are coming from.” He said quickly.
I nodded. “Then I promise that I won’t do that plan unless it is absolutely necessary and if I do it, I will do it without telling you before so that you will not be able to stop me.” I grinned.
He laughed. “Alright, but I still am not a fan of letting you. I just want you to be safe…you know what I’m saying…I don’t want to put you at risk any more than I want to put myself at risk.”
I nodded. “But if it must be done, then it must be done. We cannot just allow humanity to reform and then come so close to dying yet again. You know, I once had an idea that this is really a bitter cycle that keeps on repeating itself..something that none of us can stop, yet it still keeps on going. The wheel keeps on turning, I suppose, and in this case, it will not turn for our good.”
“If it is a cycle,” He said slowly, “Then I vow to you that I will make sure that it does not turn again…whatever it takes.”
I nodded. “Whatever it takes.”
We were set to marry each other the day after his sixteenth birthday, which was the day of his coming of age, the day when he would come into his inheritance and (supposedly) slay all of the demons that had haunted his childhood.
When he heard that from me, he only smiled. “But someone already has slain all of the demons of my childhood. She’s sitting right next to me, in fact.”
I smiled at him. “Oh, Ani’sja, you don’t need to be so nice…”
“But I do.” He said. “For when I go into the forest at midnight alone, I will think of you and how you were the one that brought down the beast that called the best fighter of all time, how you bequeathed us two-hundred warriors, and I will think, if she can do that, I can survive on scant food and no weapons for a day in the wilderness.”
I frowned. “But even you admitted that it was not skill that brought the tribe those prizes, it was luck and the fact that I was never expected to win. I was expected to lose.”
“But you still were able to say ‘yes,’” he said, “Something that I…I could’ve done, but I might’ve needed to be pressured.”
I smiled. “I know that you would’ve said yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you are like me; brave, strong, a mind that could resist Satan himself,” I told him simply. “Always remember that you are the man that your father is and maybe better.”
“Okay,” He said grudgingly, “I was just trying to compliment you.”
“I know.” I said, “And I was too.”
The night before the day in which he would be tested to his limits, Shantu Triamen came into our hut and told us a story about a hero who had been tested just the same.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Shantu Triamen was an old, weathered man with wizened features, a long beard, and blue eyes.
“It was Ahli’jus’ sixteenth birthday, but instead of just being thrown into the forest for one day, he was thrown into the forest for as long as it took him to prove to his father that he was a man. Now, his father was a hard and cruel man who expected much out of his son, too much for his son. It took two whole weeks for Ahli’jus to prove himself to his father, and he did so by slaying a full-grown boar with his bare hands.
“But, in that time, Ahli’jus thought on what it was to be a man and he was visited by an angel who told him that he should not lose hope, for he was destined for greatness. Because of this, he never gave up, and always looked to the future, thinking that it would be all better when he returned to his father. But the reason why he took so long to prove himself to his father was that boars kept on chasing him and he kept on running, for he most feared boars. But when he faced the boar, he found out that it was really nothing, that his fear was for nothing, for he fashioned a slingshot and pelted its head with the rocks. While the boar was rearing, he punched it with all his might, throwing it to the ground. After that, he went back to the tribe, and carried the boar with him. He laid the boar at his father’s feet and said, ‘If this does not prove me a man, nothing will.’ Then he stalked away.”
“So the moral is…that we must face our fears to be successful.” Ani’sja said, “Which is exactly what I’m going to be doing in the forest tomorrow.”
“Exactly.” Shantu Triamen told him. “But that is not always what stories are about, you must realize, even while a moral can always be gleamed from a story. For example, think of the story of the Great War, or the End of the Golden Days. That story is true, and there is a clear moral that can be gleamed from it: love thy neighbor, as Jesus taught us three thousand years ago, back in the Ancient Days. You can also gleam the moral that since there was great arrogance back in those days, some people in fact believing that they had surpassed God himself, God rightfully struck them down. But those are true stories, we know them to be true, else we would not be here with a partially rebuilt civilization; would you want someone taking morals from your story?”
“No,” Ani’sja said, “No, I would not, unless I really had something to warn them about or to teach them.”
“Exactly.”
Ani’sja did well in his day when he was totally alone—what was called the “Day of Manhood;” he even brought back a bird that he’d killed with a slingshot to eat. In the early morning, when Ani’sja had just arrived back from his Day of Manhood, and invited the whole tribe for the feast, even though usually only the family of the newly-made man was invited.
I had spent the whole day worried for him, yet knowing that he would make it out mostly unscathed since he was not weak, rather he was strong. But still I had asked myself, ‘but what if he does die?’ and, ‘will he die? Is he doing well out there?’
All of my worries stopped when I saw him, though still ugly, coming in from the forest with only a bruise on his leg, in the same clothing that he had came out with. I ran to hug him and he accepted my hug. When they found us, I turned and saw his father, who was also overjoyed to see him.
“You went into that forest but a boy,” He said, “But you exited a man.” He patted his son on the back.
His mother, when he saw her, hugged him, too, but he also came back to bad news: his grandmother had died of a very mysterious death that the healers could not explain. It had something to do with the brain, but it was still mysterious. The humans of the golden age would’ve known what to do about it; I was sure about that, but we certainly did not.
That day, he did not sleep, but when I got up, I saw him weeping over his grandmother’s pyre.
“It’s okay.” I said. “She’s up in heaven right now, watching us right now.”
“I know.” he said, “But I still miss her.”
“My father used to tell me that death is like a permanent vacation, one that you could never come back from, but one in which people can visit you, if they want to take that permanent trip, too.” I told him.
He nodded and cleared his throat. “You’re right. Anyway, today should be a day of celebration, not a day of mourning. My grandmother was always a happy person, and all she really wanted was for others to be happy, too. I believe that she would’ve wanted nothing more than to see us happy on our special day.”
I sighed. “But if you want me too, I can talk to the chief…”
“No,” Ani’sja said firmly, “I will honor my grandmother’s memory this way.” He looked to the horizon. “I will honor all of their memories this way.”
The wedding was not to start until noon, but I was to be fitted in my traditional dress that, while revealing, was the dress that women in my family had worn for generations. I even got to give it a twirl once, and the feeling was wonderful.
The tribe had been secretly marching to a grove of marriage, which was where the marriage would take place, without our knowledge.
“It is only a small gift, for the new beginning of my son’s life,” The chief said when he informed me of it, “The completion of his incomplete soul, for every person is an incomplete soul without their soulmate, for God fashioned us to be with a true mate.
The marriage went mostly well, as I said my vows and he said his, and a shantu pronounced us husband and wife. The only hiccup was when the shantu coughed while reading the vows and we had to recite our vows again. But it even that wasn’t that bad. After all, maybe we should recite them more than once, just to make sure that they can stick in our heads and so we can live by them, or rather will live by them.
After the ceremony, there was a great marital feast, in which the whole tribe feasted and had a good time, even if some men did get drunk and challenge each other to duels, which I stopped them from actually following through with very quickly.
it was actuall pretty easy to dissuade them from doing the duels; all you had to do was tell them that it was against the rules to challenge someone while intoxicated and that they would not have honor if they did, and they sank back into their chairs, even if they had drunken ten glasses of hard alcohol.
The grove where we got married was a beautiful grove, nothing like the grove that I had previously seen, rather, it was a grove that seemed totally devoid of artificial interference, yet totally full of it. It was really a paradox of opposites, a stunning one at that. Every single tree looked full of life and in full-bloom even though it was the late months of what the villages called autumn. The trees almost seemed…magical, they were so beautiful. The wedding feast itself was, of course, held outside of the sacred grove so that nothing so unclean as food would ever touch the sacred grove, but it was held in a beautiful clearing.
The trees all around us, Chief ‘Sja said one final toast, “A toast to new days.” and headed off to bed.
Of course, that was when most of the others started to head off to bed, too, and we said our goodbyes as each of them walked out. When the last person had walked back to the main settlement of the tribe for the time being, I kissed Ani’sja.
He was wearing a tight shirt and armor, his brown eyes almost blending into his clothing. He might not be of the most handsome of men, like Yjin’uji had been, but he was of the kindest and that was all that should matter to anyone.
“I saw the other girls looking at you with envy.” He said, smiling, when we finally stopped kissing, “They’ll have to marry multiple men, while you only have to marry one…me.”
I smiled and kissed him again. “Yes…and I wouldn’t like it any other way.”
I thought about my mother, enjoying having multiple men attracted to her at once. I couldn’t imagine living like that. I only wanted one man attracted to me…and that was Ani’sja. Besides, I did not like multiple men like my mother so obviously had. I only liked him.
The first few months of our marriage were some of the greatest months of our life. Since we were not old enough for any sort of heir-giving, we were not allowed to sleep in the same bed, but we were allowed to be alone together (with a guard, of course, nearby). We went hunting multiple times, and I decided to learn more about spearplay. Some of the other girls decided that they wanted to take up spearplay, too, but the chief would not let them.
“They must prove themselves worthy of training and stepping outside of their natural place in the tribe.” He said. “You have done so, and besides, you had especially special circumstances.”
I nodded, not letting him realize how much I wanted other women to know how to kill with a sword. For if another tribe attacked us ever again, we would have twice—or more—the defenders. And if a man ever tried to rape her, she could fight back.
“At least teach them basic fighting,” I begged him, “So that they can defend themselves from a rapist.”
After much—to be frank—nagging—I was able to get him to teach the women basic self-defense skills. All of the women eventually attended his classes, which, I thought, would certainly help them down the road if they ever encountered any rapists.
But a few weeks after the chief started to give the lessons, the chief died of a mysterious illness—which was not uncommon—this was not the villages, where one could be free to research and give names to such illnesses. In particular, this one had to deal with a great amount of coughing, and then death. Luckily, no one else got it, though Ani’sja did come down with some coughs that disappeared quickly. The Shantus did call it a “variation of Yum’ujo’s disease,” whatever that was. That still meant that they did not have a name for it, though.
I attended his funeral and had to witness him crying, which broke my heart, and I cried with him.
After that, I tried to distract him from the grieving, in an effort to make him feel better. But ultimately, it was him that did all of the work, surprisingly, not me.
“Asha’rai,” he said, after the funeral in his grief, forgetting that I had married into clan ‘Sja and was now Asha’sja instead of Asha’rai, “What would you say if I told you that your father’s plan might make sense.”
“I would say that you’re right,” I said, “And that his plan is just such a multi-layered structure that we couldn’t ever begin to understand it.”
“Well,” He smiled, “I have.”
I frowned. “How?”
He sighed. “It makes sense on the level that you fulfill all of the prophecy, and that there will have to be some small amount of bloodshed, but as long as we can get the Shantus to think that the prophecy is not, in fact, not true, then I think that they will do all of our work for us. If the other tribes try to move against us, then we can simply have the Shantus denounce them, removing all of their God-given authority. There. It is as simple as that.”
“And you truly think that this could be done with the least amount of bloodshed?” I asked. I didn’t want to ruin the fact that he was distracted from his father dying, but I also didn’t want needless amounts of people to die.
“Yes.” He said, then he walked away.
The next day, my father was caught in an ambush while he was out hunting and he came back fatally injured.