Birth

The day Illya was born was the day that he lost his freedom. He was born Iryna, a daughter to a rebellious highlander: a nobleman who refused to give his coin–and the coin and harvest of his people–to the northern country that claimed to own the lands he and his people had inhabited for generations. Nestled in this city, in a valley surrounded by many small villages, surrounded by mountains and hills and forest–Iryna was born.

A celebration took place shortly following Iryna’s birth. The cityfolk and many from the surrounding villages came to see the nobleman’s daughter. They celebrated the man who stood against their oppressors and they gifted his daughter with vinky and motanky. As they feasted and rejoiced there was the sound of horses in the distance.

A troop.

The rebellious highlander grabbed his bartka and met his enemy at the entrance to the great hall. In front of him was none other than the northern king, adorned in silks. The king dismounted from his steed and pulled his sabre free. The king spoke with a melodic, venomous voice, “My men are plenty, and they are armed. What can you alone do to protect this hall of drunken peasants?”

“What do you want?” The rebellious man seethed.

The king smiled and from behind him stepped forward a small child, much in his likeness. The king said, “I heard your wife birthed a daughter. I want your daughter betrothed to my son. For on her eighteenth birthday my army will come for her, if she does not come of her own free will that is. We would like to see each other on the end of a weapon, but for our people this could bring an end to the fighting. And for you, if you disagree, it will mean I and my army will dispose of everyone in this hall.”

As much a rebel as the noble was, he knew he must not risk the lives of his people. He put his bartka back in his belt and held out his hand to shake. He made a deal with the king that day.

The king smiled, the smile of a snake, and left the nobleman and his people to their now bittersweet celebration.

The rebellious man concocted a plan that day, a plan to keep his daughter safe. He would keep her close, never to leave the walls of the castle; but on the day before her eighteenth birthday, he would send her to the forest. He would have a small home built for her, she would live there and he would pretend that she had died. She would be kept hidden so long as it would keep her safe.

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Meanwhile, outside the city, the king from the north told a young boy with curly brown hair to keep watch on the baby Iryna. “Watch her grow,” the king said, “watch her grow and send me letters, tell me all you can.”

As the celebration ended, a curly haired boy placed a flower next to Iryna–a single violet.

—

Offering

In the depths of the forest, where there was always swirling wind and the howl of wolves, there was the grandfather of the forest. His duty was to the forest and all who dwelled there, but also to any humans who walked in. Like a shield and like a blade he would protect them and he would tear in two any who came to harm his humans or the forest and her dwellers. He was the Chuhaister.

Chuhaister heard the cries of a man, a rebel in need of help. He took the form of a large wolf and approached the man, the man sat on his knees and cried. The man held his hand to the wolf and he said, “Those who oppress us would take my daughter from me. I must protect her, and the only way I can will be to give her to the forest, old man of the forest, I beg your help.” The rebellious man brought forth an embroidered cloth and unwrapped it, inside was bread and salt. He presented it to the wolf.

The wolf sat and changed into the form of a large, hairy man with a full beard and long black hair. The man’s bright blue eyes twinkled in approval as he accepted the bread and salt. He shared it with the rebellious man and then he said, “I will leave the forest to see your daughter, I will cast my magic so that she is drawn to the forest for her eighteenth birthday. When she comes into my domain I will protect her, from then on. You have my word, good human.”

The Chuhaister would leave the forest as a moth, and land on the young Iryna’s fingers. His magic would tickle her skin and make her think of the forest, she would long for it. Other times he would come out as a wolf and she would pet his fur, she would follow as far as the castle gates would allow when he left. Sometimes he would turn into a fox and as she napped in the grass, he would nap beside her. As she grew from a young girl into a young woman she longed for a life beyond castle walls, and beyond waiting for the northern prince to steal her away for a forced marriage.

Iryna began to disguise herself as a man and sneak out. She, or rather he, would wander through the city and go as near to the forest as his nerves would allow. He felt somehow more himself when seen as a man. He called himself Illya, Illya was the man who wanted to escape this life, Iryna was the woman who was chained to it. He always felt eyes on him. Sometimes they were his tato’s, sometimes it was the curly haired man who worked at the castle, others it was the sad eyes of his mama. He was never left alone to explore, except as Illya.

The pieces ready to clash: the rebellious noble, the northern prince, Iryna herself–or rather, Illya himself, and the Chuhaister who tried to draw him near. For where would Illya find his freedom?