The young men and women of the Ibex mo’huran slept hard that evening, after they had their injuries treated and got some food. Yuliko’s mother, Kuli, had saved her some roast mutton slices seasoned with ucca-yacca and wrapped in pappo leaf, along with a bowl of diced potatoes and sweet chilis. Her mother gave her the food without saying much, only that, “You are such a skinny girl. You must remember to eat on your Journey.”

That night Yuliko had another troublesome dream; in which the mo’huran was marching through the rainforest, but all the tree leaves were a pale white. Yuliko wondered if the forest might be sick, as she walked under the white canopy glittering with sunlight. But then she thought that maybe the trees had been sick before, and this was how they were supposed to look. None of the others walking with her seemed to think anything strange of the trees.

In the dream she was in last place in the marching order, as usual, and for some reason she kept falling behind. No matter how fast she moved the mo’huran kept getting farther away from her. Yuliko looked behind and saw that an antlered green man was approaching out of the white trees. She shouted out for Kardan, who marched in front of her, but he did not hear. He and all the others left her alone in the white woods with the green man coming.

Yuliko awoke drenched in sweat. She peeled off her linen cover and sat up on her bedroll. Damp hair strands dangled in her face.

She bunked in the young womens’ hut, for girls who have already flowered but not yet completed their adulthood ritual. Children would live in a family hut with their parents and perhaps one or two other families until approximately their thirteenth year, then they would be moved to either the young mens’ or womens’ hut where they would stay until it was time for them to join a group of journeyers. All the other girls were still asleep. It was the middle of the night.

She stepped outside for some air. The moon was half waxing, but shining like it was full. A sea of shimmering stars swarmed the skyline, each patch of starscape competing to be more brilliant than the last. The air was always warm in the rainforests around Maw’Goro, but at night it was a comfortable warm. Fresher out in the open than in the hut.

She stood out there for some time, trying to forget the images of the encroaching green man, with his horns always seeking her out. She focused on the stars and tried to remember all heroes who had joined the sky spirits in starry sea. She was able to identify the stars that made up Brun the dragon hunter, who slayed the twin sister dragons, amongst many other beasts. Yuliko also found the stars for Lanola the first shepherd, who taught the Black Glass Tribe animal husbandry. Thanks to her the Glass People were able to raise goats and cattle and fowl for their many bounties. And Yuliko also spotted the constellation of Wukiki the magic stealer, who tricked spirits into inhabiting animals, then she would skin them alive and steal their power.

And suddenly, as if the sky itself had been waiting for her, streaks of bright white light shot across the skyline, a half dozen of them in quick succession, right where she had been watching. She wondered if it were a sign from a sky spirit. But what could it mean? Her mind drifted back to Krissa’s words after the second tremor, saying that this Great Journey would be special.

#

Yuliko steadily raised her arm with her hammerstone in hand. In the other she held the obsidian core perfectly still. Her vision was honed in on the exact spot she intended to strike. She could already see the knife within the core, she just had to hit the right spot, with the right force. Yuliko inhaled and held her breath. And then she swung down the hammerstone.

Her heart-shaped obsidian core broke apart. Half the heart shattered into one large flake and many small ones. Yuliko picked up the large flake and twisted it around to examine from all sides. She smiled, it was a nearly perfect flake, just as she had imagined. It already had a long sharp edge that she could tweak with minimal flaking from the pressing stick. And it had a wide enough shaft for her to add a fluted indentation, that will allow her to fit the blade into a handle much more securely.

The Ibex mo’huran had all gotten their much needed sleep and were busy crafting their ritual blades out of the cores collected at Maw’Goro’s heart. Everyone except Krissa, who was still sleeping. Makala thought Krissa would be fine, but she just needed as much rest as she could get before the Pledge Rite. Kardan volunteered to craft her ritual blade for her. It was rather unorthodox, but little had been conventional for this mo’huran so far.

While the journeyers fashioned their knives, the rest of the camp prepared for the feast tonight. And the following morning their Great Journey will begin.

Yuliko had already helped Minty knap her blade. Minty had done a good job, she had thought, though her breaks required much correction from the pressing stick. Regardless, Minty had crafted a fine, short blade, which she was now installing into her pappo wood handle.

After helping her friend, Yuliko snuck off to a quiet place to do her knapping alone. Lion most often did his knapping alone, and Yuliko wanted to do everything the way he did it. She found a nice spot between two mammoth ear ferns.

When you are knapping, a break is not destruction, a break is creation, Lion had taught her. As she examined the flake to become her ritual blade, Yuliko could clearly see his words to be true. She took the time to press shape the edges of the blade where necessary, pressing on a leather matt laid over her lap. Obsidian is hard, but brittle, making it an ideal material knap with. And because it is made from Maw’Goro’s blood, it can be sharper than other knapping materials like flint and chert.

Her pressing stick was made of an antler tip jammed into the wedge of a stick handle, so that she had a hard blunt point to press against the glass. Yuliko never failed to remember that an antler point had once been jabbed into her. Too bad that hadn’t flaked her into a sharp tool. Some breaks are just plain destruction, Yuliko thought.

When she finally had her knife shaped and chipped exactly as desired, she was ready to begin the fluting. This was the most difficult part of the knapping process. The fluting would narrow the thickness of the part of the knife to be inserted in the handle. It requires precision, and if done incorrectly could ruin the whole piece. It was an advanced enough technique that only Kardan and Yuliko who had studied under Lion were attempting the process.

She first needed to press out a square nub to be flaked off the side of the base. Then she would use a hammerstone for a direct strike at the nub. A strike at the wrong angle will fracture the length on the blade and she would have to start all over with an inferior flake. Yuliko sucked in her breath and envisioned the hammerstone colliding with the nub, just as she had done with the first break. She breathed out slowly, and inhaled again. Then she whacked the hammerstone against the nub, and thin slices of black glass chipped off exactly as intended. Yuliko was pleased with her work. Now all she had to do was the same thing on the other side.

As she was pressing out the nub for the other side of the shaft, she felt the shadow of someone standing over her. Yuliko turned around to see her chieftain father watching with his signature impassive gaze. Yuliko set aside her knapping tools and rose.

“Good morning, Father,” Yuliko said.

“Morning, Daughter,” Domylo said. “You have become skilled with those tools.”

That caught Yuliko off-guard. She lowered her head.

“Faydayo has informed me of all that transpired on your trek,” he said.

“Good. What do you think of the flatheads?” Yuliko said. “I’m concerned—”

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Her father raised his fist to chest-height with his knuckles facing her. Yuliko fell silent.

“Faydayo has told me you interfered with both the encounter with the Razor Boars and again with the flatheads,” the chieftain said. “Do you not understand your place now?”

“Yes, Father,” she said. “But the situation—”

“Every situation going forward requires you to obey your mo’huran leader,” Domylo said. “I find it concerning that you couldn’t manage your first day without causing trouble. And even after Eshika spoke for you. Only she and her spirits know why she did that, but now your behavior risks shaming her too.”

“Father—”

“You do understand that Faydayo has the power to cast you out of his mo’huran,” he continued. “And if you come back home that way you will be nothing but a thrall. I will not have that shame brought upon me or my clan.”

“But—”

“You have already brought enough shame. Do you understand?”

Yuliko fell to her knees, with her chin lowered to her chest. “Yes, Father.”

“You disobeyed your leader in Maw’Goro’s yard, where you had a play squabble with the brute Boars. And you disobeyed your leader when the intruders turned out to be harmless,” her father said. “But out in the far lands it won’t be squabbles, and your encounters won’t be harmless. You must follow your leader. Be a mo’huran. Or you will not make it back. Do you understand?”

Yuliko dropped her elbows and forehead to the ground, as low as she could present herself. “Yes, Chieftain Domylo.”

“Good,” her father told her. “Go on with your knapping.” Then he left her alone by the ferns.

Yuliko stayed motionless for a time, before rising in a huff. That had thrown off her groove. The fluting was too difficult a job to do with an unclear mind. She took several minutes to calmly rest and focus on her breathing. That’s what Lion taught her to do when her mind was racing with thoughts when it should be focused on knapping. As she breathed she noticed the chirping of all the birds around her, the occasional skitter of some creature, the rustling of the mighty tall reedcane stalks as they swayed. After many long deep breaths she felt ready to continue with the fluting.

Using the same technique as before she managed to knap off the thin flakes at the base, giving her knife the narrow shaft it needed. All that was left was to attach the blade to the handle. She had already carved a nice piece of dark brown pappo wood with a notch on one end to wedge the blade into. Thanks to her fluting the shaft would fit in snugly. First, Yuliko dipped the fluted base of the blade in tar, then inserted it into the notch in the handle. Next, she wound sinew string tightly around where the blade and handle met. Now she just needed to let the tar dry and her ritual blade would be complete.

#

Back in the young womens’ hut, Yuliko and Minty showed Tati their ritual blades. Yuliko’s was longer and of a higher quality, but Tati was impressed with both.

“So cool,” she said. “Do these really have Maw’Goro’s magic inside them?”

“I think so,” Minty said. “The cores of these ones covered a patch of Goro’s ghostgrass, so I think they even have extra magic.”

“Wow,” Tati said. “I want a magic knife.”

“You’ll get yours soon enough,” Yuliko said. She sheathed her knife into a leather holster on her belt.

Yuliko and Minty were packing up their things for their Great Journey. They would be feasting tonight and they would commit their Pledge Rites first thing in the morning, so they had to be ready to go. They each had a backframe to tie their bags and bedrolls to. Yuliko would have two sets of clothing wraps. The ones she wore and a fresh set packed away. She also had her moccasins. And she would, of course, bring her knapping kit and the extra core. Along with her ritual knife she would have her flint spear, her atlatl, and a few throwing darts. Additionally, she would have her folding fan, a crescent scraper, a bone needle, sinew string, leather cord, flint and pyrite, a small pot of tar, and some soaproot, along with a few days' rations.

Minty packed much of the same gear, but instead of a knapping kit she had her toadskin medicine bag. It was made from the hides of poisonous toads who forewarned predators with bright blue and purple colors.

“Soooo,” Tati said coyly. “I bet Kardan is glad you and he are in the same mo’huran.”

Yuliko’s face turned red. “Well, actually, he did say so.”

“Oooohhhh,” her friends said together with wide girlish smiles.

“Have you two kissed yet?” Tati asked.

“What! No, nothing like that,” Yuliko said. “He has just shown me kindness, that’s all.”

“He stood up for you when Faydayo was being a jerk,” Minty said.

“Yeah, he did do that,” Yuliko said with a shy grin.

“So, are you going to kiss him?” Tati asked.

Yuliko blushed harder. She had never kissed a boy. When she was younger, few boys had been bold enough to play flirty games with the chieftain’s daughter. And, of course, after she lost the clan totem almost no one had wanted to talk to her at all. Kardan even at first had not shown too much of a liking for her when she started learning knapping from Lion alongside him. But they had become friendly over time.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I would let him kiss me if he wanted.”

“Oooohhhh!” The girls squealed again, before bursting into giggles.

“You might have to make a move first or Gidiya might steal him,” Tati said.

“You, hush,” Yuliko said jokingly, but in truth she feared exactly that.

A knock at the door was followed by the sound of Kuli’s voice, “Yuliko, may I see you.”

“Yes, Mother,” Yuliko said, and she sprung up to move to the door.

She stepped outside and saw her mother, with bright red and yellow feathers in her hair, holding an item wrapped in cloth in each hand. One cloth fit in her palm nicely, the other cloth wrapped some kind of stick.

“Hello, Daughter,” Kuli said with a wide smile. “I have gifts for you. I wanted you to have them before the feast. Here, I made this one for you,” she said as she handed her the first cloth.

It was common for a parent to gift their child something special before their Journey, but Yuliko hadn’t expected anything considering all the shame she had brought. She unwrapped the cloth to reveal a beautifully made leather headband, decorated with strands of obsidian beads and gorgeous blue-green feathers of a forest conure.

“By Maw’Goro’s grace! It’s magnificent, Mother!” Yuliko said, holding the headband stretched out in front of herself. Each dangling strand had ten finely polished black glass beads. “This must have taken you ages.”

“Lion helped me with some of the beads,” Kuli said, then she took the headband from her daughter’s hands. “Here, I want to see how it looks on you.”

Her mother tied the laces of the band for Yuliko. She smiled brightly with the glass beads and conure feathers framing her face. “Oh, it's lovely. And the feathers match your eyes, just like I knew they would.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Yuliko said, almost melting at the thoughtfulness of such a gift.

Kuli reached out and stroked Yuliko’s cheek. “You’ve been through so much over this last year, my daughter,” she said. “I wanted to speak for you at the nomination ceremony. I know you are ready for your Great Journey.”

“Then why didn’t you speak for me? Why did it have to be Eshika?” Yuliko said.

Kuli frowned. “It was forbidden.”

Just as Yuliko had thought. “Why does he blame me so?” she asked. “It's not like I gave it away. I almost died.”

Kuli shook her head. “Your father is chieftain and does not have to explain himself to anybody.” Then she offered up the second stick-shaped present. “He made this for you.”

That surprised Yuliko even more. Her father was the last person she expected to gift her something. Kuli placed the item in her hands, and Yuliko unwrapped it. In her hands was a high quality antler pick, weighted and cut to exactly suit Yuliko. The head was made of a sawed off antler prong stuck through a hole bored into the pick handle, which had been sanded down to a smooth finish with decorative bands carved along the bottom. With force behind it the antler prong became a very deadly weapon, as Yuliko well knew.

“Father made this for me?”

Her mother nodded.

“Why forbid you from speaking for me, and then make me this?” the slender girl asked.

“It was not your father to forbid me,” her mother said. “It was High Chieftain Vogon. He forbade both of us from speaking for you.”

That was a surprise. She was at once reevaluating her fathers actions in this new light, and realizing there was likely a connection between Vogon and the Razor Boars’ attack in the lava yard, not just the youths being buckful. Yuliko didn’t understand what it all meant, but she knew it was probably not good.

Yuliko raised the pick in one hand. Its weight and balance felt good. She figured she could use it one or two handed. She examined the antler piece closely. It was a yellowish-white color with vien-like dark lines streaking through it, like cackling lightning.

“Why an antler?” she asked. “Is this to mock me?”

“No, Yuliko,” her mother said. “It’s to protect you.”