In the morning, a new change.
Well, several new changes. First, she needed to get her own bowl and utensils, instead of being handed them by her mothers.
Secondly, she had to get used to eating with missing teeth. She’d lost a few when she’d last used Calamity, and she was worried that they wouldn’t regrow. She’d lost her baby teeth a long time ago, after all. There was the chance that the dragonblood within her would regrow them, but she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t sure if she should ask.
Normally, around the breakfast meal, Davian and her mothers would confirm the girl’s plans for the day. However-
Davian looked to Ladria, who gave him a small smile. “I’m quite busy with the gardens, you know. I’ll be there.”
Mayrin simply looked to Ladria, but the other woman gave her a small frown. “It’s a long walk, Mayrin, and you’re pregnant. Are you sure?” she asked, a touch of worry in her voice.
Mayrin nodded. “It’s a lot less stressful than working the forge or tanning leather.” Mayrin replied coolly.
Davian looked to Kellia and Sellia, who gave him complicated looks and a side glance at Sheilah. “We’ll be heading north to look for dragonlings.”
He nodded at that, gave Sheilah a slight, subtle glance, but nodded. “I’ve been” he paused and grimaced, “given permission to hunt in the Timberwolf territory.” He rolled his eyes. “As if I needed such a thing.”
Everyone besides Sheilah decided the meeting was seemingly over- nobody had asked or told- even acknowledged Sheilah’s plans for the day. Further, she wasn’t actually certain what she should do. All of her life had been doing chores and preparing for her Dragon hunt.
Her dragon had been hunted, she was an adult now, but... what did that mean? There were certain things that were expected of her of course, but what did that mean, concretely? What was her day to be like?
Davian stopped the two girls. “Listen, Kellia, Sellia: With the Minor Clans, many of them live in tune with their Totems- their Totems live in their land, and they share the same food. So they make sure there’s enough food for their Totems to eat. This time, I had to exchange favors with the Timberwolf in order to hunt on their lands.” His mouth twisted. “Some things need to be tolerated, even if we don’t like to do them.”
The conversation with the two girls over, he turned to leave. None of the others so much looked at Sheilah.
Sheilah looked to Davian. “Father, I-” she began, and gave him a helpless look.
He gave her a tiny smile. “Get a bow- not yours- and come with me.” He paused. “First, tend to your dishes, and then come along with me.”
She blinked and realized that neither of her mothers had taken her dishes after the meal was over.
She grimaced, and tended to her chores quickly before stepping out of the tent, where her father was waiting for her.
He passed her a bow and quiver wordlessly, gestured to the trail that would eventually lead to the Timberwolves territory.
“It’s expected that an adult will decide for themselves their schedule.” Davian began, answering Sheilah’s unspoken question. “You’re an adult now. Fix your own meals, clean your own dishes-” he gestured to indicate ‘so on and so forth’, “and decide for yourself what you’re to do. There’s no real need for us to ask what you plan, and there’s no real need for you to tell us. You are an adult now, with an adult’s responsibilities.” He explained, and then paused. “It’d be nice if you told us. We’re part of your family, your tribe, your clan, so there’s a certain degree of accountability there, too.”
He looked to Sheilah. “You understand?”
She nodded.
He rubbed his chin. “Further, you shouldn’t sleep with your sisters anymore. It sends a mixed message. You’re supposed to be an adult, so you shouldn’t sleep with children.” He explained. “There’s a separate part of the tent that I need to set up for you to move into. It’s something that hasn’t been needed to put up since...” He trailed off, “Since before you were born.”
She nodded. She was an adult, but unmarried. She couldn’t sleep in the portion of the tent that was reserved for her parents; nor could she sleep with her siblings.
“Should I move out?” She asked.
He shook his head. “You don’t have to until-” He caught himself, “unless you find a husband.” He gave her a side look with a smile, “though you haven’t seemed interested in that.”
She gave him a bewildered look. “I’ve been focused on preparing for my Dragon hunt! When was I supposed to do that?” She asked indignantly.
He gave her a stunned look. “The tribal gatherings and the Clan gatherings are for that. You’re supposed to.. meet others you’ve never met, make friends, find partners.” He gave her a honestly curious look. “You didn’t know that?”
She shook her head, and he gave her a laugh and slapped her on the back. “Well, now you know!” He joked, still laughing.
It was so strange, seeing him so unrestrained, and she told him so.
“Eh... well...” He began, and then shrugged. “There aren’t many times for things like this.” He finally admitted. “It’s all of the ... unspoken rules and traditions of the Clans. We need to be... cold and aloof.” He replied. “You understand.”
She nodded.
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“But now that you’re an adult, we can speak to each other as equals.” He admitted. “I’ve... been looking forward to this.”
He looked ahead and pointed. “Those foothills are the Timberwolves’ territory.” he explained, as if she didn’t know that for herself. “When we’re hunting we won’t be able to speak to each other easily-” he looked at her significantly, “-you understand?” He asked.
She nodded, and she deliberately slowed her pace, so that she could talk to her father that much longer.
Over the next few days came the crafting of Sheilah’s weapon, something that her father saw to.
As she’d promised to herself, she demanded a spear, but her father merely looked at her and laughed.
“From a tooth like that?” He’d asked with a chuckle, and shook his head. “I’ll see to your weapon. There’s so much material here, we can afford to be creative.”
She wanted to watch her weapon being crafted, but he simply shooed her away and worked on it in secret.
Her mothers, Ladria and Mayrin, were somewhat distant to her, and had been since she’d returned. It took her some time to think it through, but she eventually realized that they were no longer treating her as “Sheilah the child” and were instead treating her as “Sheilah the adult” which made her a little sad, since she missed their closeness.
It was a necessary change, however. She had survived her trial. She was no longer a child. She had passed through the fires of her rite of passage and had come out the other side. She could no longer be a child; she had to start behaving as she was: an adult.
Her sisters, the twins Kellia and Sellia however, still treated her as they always had; as an older sister, albeit with a certain reverential awe. She had gone into the volcanic wastes of the Ashlands and had killed a dragon and returned.
She began to spend time away from the tent, but this time no one stopped her or complained when she left. She was an adult now, and so she was able to set her own hours.
“It feels weird.” Fialla mentioned to Sheilah as they sat together on a knuckle of rock that overlooked part of the Dragon Terrace. “All I did was kill a dragon.” She added. There was a pause, and then she added, “It wasn’t even that hard.”
“You had the advantage of catching it by surprise.” Sheilah reminded her.
“True enough, I suppose.” Fialla replied, and produced a waterskin. “Drink?” She proffered.
Sheilah took a drink and then choked. It wasn't water, but some potent alcohol.
“What is this?” Sheilah sputtered, and Fialla laughed. “Some of the drink we snatched from the giants.”
Sheilah took another drink. “You could have warned me.” She remarked sourly.
“It’s pretty popular right now, you know. We don’t have much fruit here in the Redstone, so this is a rare treat.” Fialla pointed out.
“Be careful.” Sheilah warned. “Nobody appreciates a drunk Dragon.”
Fialla laughed. “My family said the same thing. Well, I have no plans to rampage across the Terrace, starting fights and blowing fire.”
“Like Atta’s father?” Sheilah asked. The man had gone on a drunken rampage like that several times in the past, before Davian had brought him into line.
“Just so.” Fialla replied, taking a small swallow and passing the skin to Sheilah.
Sheilah took another small drink and wordlessly passed the skin back to her friend as night descended on the Redstone.
“Father wants me to think about taking a husband.” Fialla muttered.
“Already?” Sheilah asked. “You just got back from the-”
Fialla nodded. “It makes sense. I have a lot of brothers and sisters, Sheilah. They need the room.”
Sheilah nodded. “You could barter a tent, supplies.” She offered.
Fialla shrugged. “I meant what I said in the Ashlands. I’ll marry whoever you choose to.”
“It doesn’t matter who?” Sheilah chided.
“Just as long as it’s not from Atta’s family, please.” Fialla begged, and they shared a laugh.
“Okay, then- I guess we get a tent and things.” Sheilah offered. “We don’t do bride-stealing anymore, after all.”
Fialla nodded. “That could work.” She took a drink and passed the skin to Sheilah. “I’m heading in. I’ve got an early start tomorrow. It’s my turn at the farm.”
Sheilah nodded, and after she’d shouldered the wine, she climbed down from their perch.
“Ah!” Fialla called, and trotted back. “I’ll have my favor from you now.” She demanded.
Sheilah nodded immediately. She owed Fialla that much, and more.
“I’m sure you’re busy crafting your own weapon, but I’d like you to help me with mine.” She urged. “It’s hard; I don’t have the strength-” She began, and then sighed. “Help. Please.” She pleaded.
Sheilah waved her hand. “My father seems to have decided for himself what my weapon is to be, and he won’t let me do it myself. I’ll happily help.” she replied. “I need to learn to do it myself, so I can do it for my own children.”
Fialla nodded. “Even better.”
Dragon teeth were harder than stone, stronger than metal, and while they were difficult to be worked, they could be worked, though it took the efforts of many people and plenty of tools.
To work a dragontooth required strength, skill, and those specialized tools, some of which involved dragon metal, the only thing strong enough to resist the strength of a tooth from the ferocious Totem.
The outside of the tooth needed to be prepared; notches needed to be ground carefully into the root, and then the outer edges were flaked away with chisels.
The pieces that flaked away, if they were large enough and removed skillfully enough, could be ground into knives for common use.
After the chisels came grinding, a laborious process that took days to turn a thick, somewhat bulbous tooth into a long, curved blade.
After all of that came the final grinding and polishing, something that Sheilah and Fialla did in turns.
Before all this of course, Fialla spent days with her tooth, wrapped in the power of the Dragon, the tooth cradled to her chest while she sang and recited the stories of her ancestors, going all the way back to the beginning of her line and ending with her own stories of her hunts, her skills in the melee, and her fight with her dragon. She exulted in the histories of her family, She gave thanks to her ancestors and her family; she praised and thanked the Tyrant for the dragon she had hunted, and she honored and thanked the dragon for the gifts she’d been given, the least of which was the hide and tooth she’d been given.
She’d do it again after the weapon had been finished, as she carved her personal sigil into the tooth itself.
Sheilah had done the same, though hers had been particularly taxing, since her family wasn’t able to approach the tent they’d given her for the purpose; the dread and terrifying aura of Supremacy radiating out thickly.
It wasn’t just Supremacy that made it difficult, but also because she was directly descended from the First Blood. Her stories were longer, her praises took longer.
It was easier the closer she came to her own family, from her great-great-grandfather Adlan and his wife, to her great-grandfather Lonato and his wife, to her father Davian, and finally, to herself.