The morning mist clung to Rebecca's ankles as she moved through the forest, her Elisi's woven basket swinging lightly at her hip. Dawn barely broke, painting the sky with muted shades of pink and gold. She paused beneath a towering oak, fingers hovering uncertainly over a cluster of mushrooms.
*"The plants speak if you listen,"* Elisi’s voice echoed in her memory, but Rebecca sighed and plucked the mushrooms without much thought. Her grandmother always stressed the land’s symbols, but Rebecca had never fully grasped their significance. They were just words to her—wisdom for someone else.
"Wado," she whispered to the oak out of habit, repeating the motion as Elisi had taught her. It was routine now; more gesture than belief. She bent to gather the mushrooms, noting how the forest felt just the same as every other morning. The light shimmer she thought she saw around her hands—likely just dew catching the sun. Nothing more.
Back at the cabin, Elisi sat in her usual spot in the back room, wrapped in her worn blanket adorned with Blue clan patterns. Her frail body was hunched, but her eyes, deep with generations of memory, fixed on Rebecca.
Without a word, Elisi extended her hand for the basket. Rebecca sat it down beside her and felt the familiar awkwardness of the moment. “The oak tree shared its medicine,” she said, though the words in Cherokee felt slightly distant, they meant more to Elisi.
Elisi examined the mushrooms with care, nodding slowly. “You felt something today?”
Rebecca hesitated. “I mean… they were there. I took them.” She shrugged. “I didn’t feel much different.” Rebecca shifted uncomfortably but was saved from replying when the sounds of thunder cut through the morning stillness.
There was a commotion coming from the village center. Horses' hooves thundered on packed earth, and a sense of dread settled over Rebecca, like a cold hand on her spine.
The commotion from the village center grew louder. She exchanged a glance with Elisi, who, despite her age, moved with surprising swiftness.
"Pack what speaks to you," Elisi commanded, her voice steady. "Leave behind what doesn’t."
Rebecca blinked in confusion, her eyes darting to the shelves filled with belongings. “Speaks to me?” she repeated, but her hands remained still. They were just things—objects, tools, food.
But Elisi was already moving, pulling dried herbs from the rafters with practiced ease and handing Rebecca a bundle of corn and coffee. “Now, you must trust.”
Trust. It was a word her elisi used often, but Rebecca felt the gulf between them widen in moments like these. She hesitated again, glancing around the room, unsure of what was important.
“Elisi, I—”
Her grandmother didn’t let her finish. She pushed a small bundle into Rebecca’s hands. “This. And this.” She gestured toward the stone mortar, still heavy with the scent of freshly ground herbs.
Rebecca reluctantly gathered the items. She had never felt the energy her grandmother spoke of, never understood the connection. Yet, Elisi’s insistence forced her to move, to act, even if she didn’t understand why.
As the shouts of soldiers drew nearer, Rebecca’s hands moved faster. She stuffed the bundle and mortar into a sack, along with the clan wampum, unsure if she chose them because they ‘spoke’ to her or because Elisi expected her to.
The scene outside was chaos. Families were being driven from their homes, children clutching at their parents, and elders struggling to keep up. Rebecca's heart pounded, and for the first time, something inside her stirred—an awareness, almost a warning. She glanced at Elisi, whose face remained composed, but her eyes were sharp, unwavering.
The door burst open with a loud crash, and soldiers filled the frame, their bayonets glinting in the early morning light. “Out! Now!” They barked, voices hard and unfamiliar.
Elisi grabbed the sack from Rebecca, ordered her to stay in the room and slipped out toward the commotion and the rest of the family.
Her two younger siblings clung to their mother’s side, eyes wide with fear. Rebecca’s mother stood frozen near the hearth, one hand trembling as she reached for the basket of corn. Their father moved forward slowly, his hands raised, but there was a resignation in his face—he knew better than to fight.
The soldiers stormed inside, their presence filling the room with a cold, heartless authority. “Out!” one of them barked, his gaze sweeping over them like they were livestock.
“We need more time,” Rebecca’s father said, his voice calm, though it wavered slightly. “We are gathering our things—”
“You don’t have time!” The soldier snapped, pushing past him without a second glance. The man’s gaze settled on a small carved knife that Rebecca’s younger brother had proudly made weeks earlier. Without hesitation, the soldier grabbed it, turning it over in his hands.
“That’s mine!” her brother cried out, lunging toward the soldier. Rebecca quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
The soldier smiled, twisting the small knife in his fingers. “Not anymore.” His tone was mocking, dismissive. Behind him, another soldier rifled through their belongings, opening crates, scattering clothes, upending a basket of corn with an air of bored entitlement. His hands moved quickly, without care, and when he found something he liked—a small copper bracelet their mother had kept as an heirloom—he slipped it into his pocket.
Rebecca’s father’s hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move. They had heard the stories—families who fought back, tried to resist, and were met with unspeakable violence. They had seen their neighbors taken away in chains, some never returning. It was too dangerous to fight. The price was too high.
Their mother clutched her siblings tighter as the soldiers continued to plunder the cabin. They took whatever caught their eye—blankets, tools, the little that their family still had. Her father’s jaw was tight, his eyes burning with quiet rage, but he remained still, his fingers twitching with the urge to protect his family. But he couldn’t. None of them could.
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One soldier, taller and more deliberate than the others, moved toward the back of the cabin. His eyes swept over the room, and Elisi’s breath caught in her throat as he approached the door to the small room Rebecca was in.
He pushed the door open with a lazy shove, his gaze shifting over the room—a bed and belongings, the few personal items strewn about. His eyes landed on Rebecca, lingering for a moment too long. She could feel his gaze like a weight pressing down on her, heavy and suffocating.
He picked up a small blanket that hung on the edge of the bed frame, examining it briefly before letting it drop. His gaze shifted back to her, slow, appraising. He said nothing, but the implication was there, lingering in the air like smoke.
Rebecca’s heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to stand still, her face a mask of defiance.
The soldier stepped closer, leaning in just enough to brush his fingers against the edge of her dress. His touch was light, sending a chill through her body.
Rebecca’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her entire body was frozen, her mind screaming, but her limbs refusing to respond. She felt paralyzed beneath his gaze, trapped in a moment she couldn’t escape.
The soldier’s eyes flickered with amusement before he straightened up, casting one last glance over her. “I’ll remember you,” he whispered as he turned away and left the room.
The door clicked softly behind him, and Rebecca stood there, trembling, from the weight of what had just happened. There was nothing she could do or say that would change it, nothing that would undo what had been done.
When she finally emerged from the room, her face was pale, her hands trembling. Her mother and father were busy with the soldiers, their attention fixed on keeping their younger siblings safe. No one saw the way she faltered, the way her legs shook beneath her.
Elisi’s eyes met hers for a moment, sharp and knowing, but she said nothing. If she sensed something was wrong, she didn’t let on.
Outside, the soldiers were growing impatient. “Move!” one of them shouted, his hand on the hilt of his rifle.
Rebecca’s father moved first, guiding her siblings toward the door, his face tight with anger. Her mother followed, glancing nervously at the soldiers who still hovered around the cabin, grabbing what little they hadn’t already taken.
Rebecca moved to follow, her steps slow and shaky. She couldn’t shake the feeling of the soldier’s hand on her skin, the way his breath had felt like a violation all on its own. But she couldn’t tell them. They didn’t need to know.
As they stepped outside, the cold morning air hit her like a slap. The village was in chaos—families being herded together, children crying, elders struggling to keep up. The soldiers were everywhere, pushing and shouting, their voices harsh against the silence of grief and heartache.
Her family stayed close together, her mother’s arms around her younger brothers, her father’s eyes scanning the crowd with weary resignation.
Rebecca’s heart ached, not just for herself but for everyone around them. Their home, their land—it was all slipping away. And no one could stop it.
As they were led away from the cabin, Rebecca cast one last glance at the place that had been their home, the small bits of her life scattered and stolen, just like the lives of the people around her. Rebecca felt a flicker of something—a connection, a recognition—but it was fleeting. She shook it off, focusing on the immediate task of survival. There was no time for symbols or ancestral wisdom now. They were being forced into exile, and that was all she could understand.
As we were led away from our cabin, Elisi shuffled over to me and pressed a final bundle into my hands, wrapping one of our blankets around my shoulders. "Here Rebecca. Take this and hide it under your blanket. I was told we will be walking the entire way. So, we need to prepare for the worst."
I quickly opened my bundle to take a glance. The herbs glowed green and the corn a golden hue, seemingly more vibrant than they should be.
As I stared, a voice, like Elisi’s resonated in my mind.
“Preserve the healing wisdom during the journey. Learn the sacred knowledge of these plants to help those in need.” Along with this edict, a list of the herbs and their uses flowed through my mind like water:
* Echinacea: Bites, cough, fevers
* Sweetgrass: smoked for purification, tea to relieve coughs
* Yarrow: hemorrhages, fever
* Wintergreen: fever, headaches, tea for menstrual pain
* Ginseng: infections
* Rosemary: analgesic, also a spice
* Sage: cramps, cuts, bruises, colds, flu, also a spice
"Don't let anyone see those," Elisi whispered. "This will be a long journey, and they may be useful.
I nodded as I put the bundle under my arm, obscured by the draping of the blanket. The knowledge settled into my mind, feeling both foreign and familiar at once.
"I also included some corn and mushrooms for food," Elisi added quietly. "We don't have a lot so eat only when necessary."
As we joined the crowd of our people being herded away from our homes, I felt the weight of both the bundle and my new pursuit pressing against my heart. Perhaps now, on this dark trail ahead, I would finally understand what it meant to listen to the land's voice.
[Chapter 1 Complete]
* Skills Gained: 1
* Quests Active: 1
* Story Progress: 16%
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[New Quest: Trail of Tears]
* Objective: Survive and complete the forced journey without losing essential knowledge and resources.
* Complete: 0%
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[Inventory Unlocked: Carrying Capacity (Level 1)]
Improved ability to carry essential items with limited strain.
* Max Slots: 6
* Load Impact on Movement: High
* Critical Item Types: Food, Water, Medicinal Herbs
* Bundle Efficiency: Basic
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[Item Acquired: Herb Bundle]
Contents: Echinacea, Sweetgrass, Yarrow, Wintergreen, Ginseng, Rosemary, Sage
Properties: Healing, purification, fever reduction
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[New Skill Unlocked: Herb Knowledge (Level 1)]
Ability to identify common medicinal herbs found along the journey and gained knowledge of traditional healing plants.
* Success Rate: 50% (increases with experience and guidance from the grandmother)
* Herb Types Identifiable: Basic (healing, pain relief)
* Plants recognized: Echinacea, Sweetgrass, Yarrow, Wintergreen, Ginseng, Rosemary, Sage
* Gathering Yield: Low
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[Debuff Activated: ???]
* Effects unknown
* Duration unknown