The world I know is only a small piece of a great unknown. The village I live in is remote and isolated on the southernmost tip of the continent with only a dozen or so similar hamlets all depending on each other for trade, news, and companionship. Of the many sentient races, or humans, only three dominate this remote corner of the world.
Redmanes are the larger of the three. With rough manes, strong builds, and sharp claws, they fight on even footing against the vicious beasts that lurk in the thicker areas of this humid jungle. Their society is strict and hierarchal, and they have always seen themselves as the first defense against threats to other humans.
Orcans are a solitary yet friendly aquatic race who live up and down the rivers and throughout the small islands and reefs dotting the coast. They don’t have legs like most humans but instead have a large, finned tail. Their arms and heads also have fins of varying sizes. This whole jungle is fed by a delta that comes from a river connected to the very top of the continent. This river brings many artifacts and resources to the Orcans which results in them being the most diverse in their tools and materials. Apart from what the river brings, Orcan tools are traditionally made from bones carved out of other aquatic creatures since they primarily hunt these animals for their livelihood. With the delta running throughout the jungle, it’s not uncommon to find Orcan hunting parties or solo treasure hunters in even the darkest parts of the jungle.
I am a Sosun; the most prevalent race in the Southeast. Sosuns are considered the most generic of humans. Without any defining strengths or weaknesses, we can survive in any environment and thrive in many. Sosuns are communal like the Redmanes but our strong individuality is a constant struggle in any community. Despite not having any unique traits, Sosuns can be found in every corner of the world. We get along with most human races and from this tolerance Sosuns have a strong footing everywhere.
Of course, my talk about the outside world and even about Sosuns are secondhand accounts. Only one person from the entire collective of Sosun hamlets in the jungle has ever left our jungle. Old man Cu is a withered man who teaches the children about the outside world through recollections of his travels. It’s hard to imagine a world outside our own but old man Cu says his job outside was to scribe events and daily happenings of great people. He stands by every claim and gets worked up whenever someone questions his word. The adults mostly ignore him and leave the children to care for him while he tells them his outlandish stories and even the children eventually learn to humor him. In small villages like ours though it is unusual for someone not on a deathbed to lie about all day as Cu does.
“Why is Cu not given any chores?” I remember asking my mother this when I was still a child. Old enough to help my mother carry water but too young to hunt or farm with my father or brother.
I remember my mother smiling as she kept walking forward; never taking her eyes off the path toward home, “Old Man Cu has walked for a long time, Ba. He has almost reached one hundred steps.”
My eyes grew wide as I thought about what that meant. In our small community the proverb of ‘100 Steps’ illustrates each person’s limitations. Every step is a new skill or accomplishment in life. Hunting, cooking, marriage, friendships, and every aspect of life is considered a single ‘step’ in your life. We call it one hundred because we understand that you can’t do everything. You could run for 50 steps and be too exhausted to finish the rest or you could walk and run out of time as well. The ‘100 steps’ is a lesson to always strive to do more but never be too hasty to run through life. This proverb is one of many that our hamlets collectively teach the youth as they grow up. Children will often misinterpret this proverb for a long time into a more one-dimensional view. They tend to see the one hundredth step as an end, they see this as a simple expression of how much life a person has left to live. Naturally as children grow and mature, they begin to see the stronger meaning behind many other lessons taught.
I turned my face to mother in shock, “Cu is going to die!?”
My mother brought one hand up to her mouth to hide her amusement of my outburst, “Well, you know he is very old. I’m sure he might start telling one of his stories and work himself right past his final step at any moment.”
Thinking back, this was a lesson I was too young to learn at the time. Whether or not it was true, the people here believed Cu left the villages and had experiences in the larger world that were too far unrelated to mean anything here in the jungle. The village considered Cu to have no skills useful to the village and too old to learn anything that a tradesman couldn’t do better. Some people even wondered why he would return in the first place. That was the meaning behind his 100 steps. I never thought to ask him while he was alive and once I became old enough to help with farming and hunting, old man Cu had died before I could ask him about the step that led him home.
Cu was just one of the many people who died in our hamlet. It happens every few years or so. Unlike the rest, however, he was the only one who didn’t both live and die walking the same steps as everyone else. Regardless of whether his stories were true or not, they were different and made children dream of a life outside of the heat, beasts, and work that are the only promises of the jungle. As for those promises, nothing but death ever seemed to come from them.
My mother died a few years after old man Cu. She was bitten by one of the smaller beasts who often make their way into the villages. She got sick from the bite and even the Redmanes with their herbs and medicines could only ease the pain of her passing. She was remembered by the village as a dedicated wife and mother who even in her final days was concerned that her husband was at her side rather than in the fields and that the children refused to leave the house for chores. I doubt anyone in our family will get over the loss of our mother. That might be a sign of how wonderful she was. Without a doubt, not a day went by after her death when someone wasn’t either thinking about her or whispered her name just under their breath.
Talking about someone’s life after they have died is a taboo in the jungle. Instead, every family has a mantle in their home in addition to the graveyard where we can gather around and pray to the departed loved ones. This helps ease any concerns the departed have about leaving this life and allows us to go on with them still being just within reach. Only two years after mother died, we added another soul to the family’s mantle.
The primary duties of the men in each hamlet are to tend to communal fields and contribute to hunting parties when needed. These hunting parties can be either for food and supplies or they can be to track down a belligerent beast causing trouble for the hamlets. My older brother Hai was chosen to join a group to hunt down an aggressive beast who had recently moved out from the remote places in the jungle to new hunting grounds. While many hunters used bows and swords to deal with trapped or injured prey, Hai favored his spear and lance. I was still learning to hunt when Hai left the rough clearing of our village with two other men. They had intended to meet with the rest of the party waiting in another village before heading into the deeper jungle to lure out the beast. That ended up not being necessary as the beast caught Hai and his companions before they arrived at the village. All three of them were found slain almost halfway between the hamlets. The beast was found among them as well. With two of Hai’s spears buried in its back and his lance piercing its heart as it laid atop his body. Hai was honored for avenging his companions, two spears in the back for two slain companions. Both his lance and his responsibility as the oldest son were given to me following those events. Hai’s name could rarely be mentioned but the lance became famous in its own right and was often spoken of as if it was a hero itself. The blood of both a hero and of a savage beast had stained my new weapon and I was expected to live up to the names of both.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Even from a young age I was beginning to see how each person begins life and has their ‘steps’ already planned for them. Responsibilities are important, and they keep everyone alive and safe. However, by the time I was ten years old I had inherited a responsibility that would carry me well throughout my life. A responsibility that I accepted rather than chose. I wasn’t the only one though. My sister Bon had perhaps even more planned for her than I did.
Sister Bon and I were practically twins growing up. We looked the most similar and were hardly a year apart in age. Once our mother died though she was immediately held in contempt by our village family for not being trained properly to handle the housework that our mother left for her in absence. Even if our mother had survived, sister Bon would be expected to learn everything about running a house and eventually be married in another village and spend the rest of her life in that same lifestyle. We both had roles expected of us but at least I was allowed to stay in the village I grew up in whereas she would need to start all over. Once, after Hai died, I decided to her about it while she brought lunch to the fields.
“Bon, does it ever bother you?” I was staring at the clouds already deep in thought and hoping she would already have the same issues on her mind.
“You’ll need to be little more willing to talk than that Ba. What do you mean?” Just like mother, she never turned to face me but rather, even when sitting, she kept her gaze ahead and focused on whatever task she was doing at the time.
“Sorry, I mean how you and I both have a life but even before we know what that means we are given someone else’s,” I stop leaning against my hands and place them against my head as I lay on my back trying to distance myself from the conversation I had just started as much as possible. I’m not allowed to say the names, but Bon knows I mean our brother Hai and our mother, “I’ve trained to become the best wielder of the lance and spear anywhere in the jungle and you have mothers in every village talking about you,” I have to think for a minute if I really want to ask her, “Are you really happy with the life you have? Or do you ever think more is out there for you?”
I didn’t hear anything from Ban for a moment, so I sat back up and examined her face. Her expression had finally changed. She is smiling slightly but her eyes held back sadness, “I asked someone else in our family that once when I was much younger. I couldn’t understand how this woman lived her life the same as every other woman in the villages and still asked me to do the same. I asked her if there were any other paths for a woman to walk down,” Ban tuned to me as a tear escaped from her eyes, “Do you know what our mother said,” It was taboo to directly mention our mother like that but it emphasized the significance it held for her, “She said that each of us has a sacred duty in our lives. It’s not a destiny and we don’t even have to do it. In fact, if we don’t, someone else might just as well do it for us. But out of everything in this world that is the one thing that belongs to us and us alone. She even mentioned you Ba” I was completely focused on what she had to say next. She smiled, “She said young boys like you are always wondering about their ‘100 Steps’ and scared you wouldn’t have as many skills as the other boys to fight or impress girls.” Bon laughed a little after seeing how I wasn’t really amused by that comment.
“I think that only half applies to me, sister.” I tried protesting under my breath.
“Oh of course, of course! I only wonder which half.” Bon made one more joke before calming down and continuing the lesson our mother left her, “Anyway, as far as boys are involved, she explained that so often men and women will get focused on the simple act of progress and taking that next step that they don’t even realize where they’re headed. Even if you manage to take all one hundred steps you might turn around and see that you were walking in a circle, crooked, or even sideways! I was told that the only way to reach one hundred steps AND walk in a straight line,” She paused and thought for a moment, “What I mean…Is that I really do believe that the only way for us to get the most fulfilling life is to find our sacred duty and to make every task we do related in some way to realizing it. So, to answer your question, yes it does bother me sometimes. But in the end, I know that I chose this life even if others handed it to me. I’m committed to doing my duty and seeing it through all the way to the end.”
She stops talking and keeps her gaze on me, waiting for my reaction, “I suppose it’s about time to get back to work huh,” I stand up and stretch, extending my arms out and then reaching to the sky, “I’m glad you are content with life in the village Bon. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have said if you came out and told me that you hated our ‘sacred duty’.” I turn around and start walking back into the field.
“What about you Ba?” her question halts me for a moment, “Are you angry your first ‘steps’ are laid out before you? Is there another direction you want to go in?”
“That’s not the same question I asked you Bon.” I say under my breath before turning to face her, “Knowing that those were the words of someone we both cherish makes them carry that much more meaning and weight to me. But I can’t just accept my role in life just yet. At least not without more time and thought. Don’t worry about me though, I’m sure I’ll come around.”
The two of us never talked about our roles in life again. The idea of a “sacred duty” was never brought up again. Later, Sister Bon was sought after by many respectable young men from the surrounding villages. Eventually it was decided that once our younger sister Nam could handle the household chores alone, Bon would leave the village to join a man from the northernmost Sosun village. Our mother was always a woman of wisdom, patience, and proverbs. It’s clear now that Bon took after those traits to resemble her exactly as I remember them. I always believed that it was our father, however, who lived these virtues out more than anyone I could ever meet.
Our father lived his life filled with the work of every other man and father in the hamlets. He worked the fields in the mornings, negotiated with the other men in the afternoons, attended regular village meetings in the evenings. Yet he still found time to talk to mother about the current state of his home and the children. Even after she had passed, he continued to speak with my sister about the state of the home and help anyway he could. There was more to him than even that. My father also loved proverbs and words of wisdom. Every free moment he could muster was spent in contemplation and writing. Parchment isn’t particularly rare if you really need it, but it certainly isn’t in high demand in the jungle hamlets. Regardless, my father could always be seen writing old proverbs and thinking of new ones to instill lessons in his children. This was the kind of family my four siblings and I grew up with. Brother Hai, myself, sister Bon, sister Nam, and our youngest brother Sua.
Brother Sua was the final child born to our mother. but he never had the chance to know her. He was born a few months before mother’s sickness and so never had the chance to know her. As the youngest, he never had any chores unique to him, only what was passed down to him from the rest of the family. Sua was expected to spend much of his time watching and learning from me all the tasks expected of him not only as a son but as a future man of the village. He always carried out his tasks diligently and was eager to learn more about the process and inner workings of many daily routines. As for fighting, he was never old enough to join on hunts, he settled for mimicking moves and styles of mine while I practiced at the end of the long days. Every chance I had to teach him a lesson in hunting, farming, etiquette and our social structure, I made sure to take advantage of the opportunities. Sua was a very capable child and kept pace in even the most challenging of topics.
Although the age gap was larger than it was for me and Hai, I always wondered if when I looked at Sua, I was seeing what Hai saw when he looked at me. This motivated me to take special care in how I trained Sua. I was invested in his future because I cared about him as a brother but more so because I looked at him as my replacement in case something were to happen to me. This thought quickly sprouted from a seed of concern and became the root that fed my own discontent with the lot I had drawn in life. Soon I began to see Sua not only as a replacement for the worst but rather as a hope that somehow he could step into my position on his own and free me from this suffocating feeling of bondage. As much as I wanted this to be the case, I still felt guilty about wanting to abandon my duties. Only after years of silent contemplation did I decide to discuss this with the wisest man I knew.