The sun was long gone when Astrid signaled tonight’s stop. The Matriarch found her when she finished puking nearby, blood she saw under the dim light of the faraway torches. The iron taste turned sour when she heard her uneven stomping. She will ask me to sacrifice myself. It would be an honor but we cannot tread the Path any longer today.
“We can’t stop Astrid.” the Matriarch announced “They followed us closely for three days, they know you won’t last long. If you manage to continue for a day cycle, they will have to rest their star-readers and the tribe will be able to go through this trial.”
“I don’t have a choice, Honored Elysia, the spring led us to the Frontier of the Sentinel Kingdoms” she answered tiredly, before the elder questioned her capacity she continued “The constellation is now hidden by the Mountain’s cloud mantle. But, yes, I am sure of the path we took.”
“I hope you are right, my child. Rest then. We have much to face tomorrow if the Spring guided us to the Mountain.”
As she left the Matriarch to her musing, Astrid went toward the rest place of the few huntress remaining. With a gesture honed by the thousand repetitions, she unrolled her sleeping bag and unsheathed her sword only to put right next to her. Just in case the tribe’s Constellation desired blood for them.
Maybe tomorrow will be the end, and I’m not even mad I just want it to end.
----------------------------------------
Waking up in a jump, she opened her wound again and cursed. Then getting up in a yawn, she went out of the tent and saw the Mountain base occupying most of the horizon, she could not believe how quickly she and her tribe came here.
Domineering the land of Thalaare, the Mountain stood higher than anything in the world. Piercing through the clouds, the mountain looked like a gigantic beast buried here. No one ever reached the summit, some even said it was the residence of gods, full of riches and water like honey. Others just climbed to harvest the mysterious power seeping from it. Many just lived here from the bustling activity of the many souls seeking to profit from it.
Astrid finally felt somewhat safe seeing the enormous mountain, after 3 days of pursuit. Her tribe was finally reaching the relatively safe borders of Lineus, one of the three Mountain Kingdom. The enemy tribe chasing them from their part of the plains had no interest to pick a fight near the border, the matriarch said in front of everyone before announcing a two-hour rest before moving again. Waiting for this moment, Astrid went to meet the Matriarch, the old woman walked slowly toward the command tent before stopping to let last somewhat able star-seeker of the Tribe reach her. Before walking away from the camp for a bit.
“Honored Elysia, where should I lead the tribe, with the Path obscured we have to follow our instincts.” Astrid hesitated for a few second before adding “Granny… The Path led to the Mountain when I lost track of it. Do you… do you think we should begin the Ascension?”
The Matriarch froze, before steeling herself again.
“Nonsense. We are at our weakest it would be pure madness to attempt an ascension now. Moreover, the last Tribe gone for the Ascension was only a year ago, it is too soon for another depart. You must have been too exhausted to interpret the stars correctly.”
The last line was said with more uncertainty than Astrid would’ve liked.
“I hope you are right, Honored Elysia.”
“Astrid.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for what you achieved, your master, as great as she was, couldn’t have done it. Go treat your wound, it’s getting ugly.”
As she went back to her belongings, she went through the bustling camp she realized the people look dazed. Probably because they had no time to realize the losses while pursued by those damned Boar God Brethren.
Many of the tribe died in the first fight but soon the grief would start to fade slowly. Mainly because the tribe was source-less and had to find one quickly to replenish their rapidly dwindling resources.
The tribe was preparing the start of another day of walking while Astrid was changing the boiled bandage on her left arm, the pain was not going away and the cut she received three days prior was getting infected. Even though, she was using the nauseating-cataplasm she was taught to make when she learned to hunt, she was scared to ask one of the tribe-mother, she already saw Pelum lose his arm because of an infection. He must have been one of the first to fall, having lost his dominant arm she thought a bit sad. He was the best at teaching child to hunt. Everyone in the tribe under the coming of age was taught by him.
When the bandage was finally decently boiled, she felt something amiss. The bustling camp was silent, unnaturally, completely silent. She jumped on her short sword nearby, still unsheathed. She looked at the frozen spring-mother she could see starring toward the mountain. Was she… crying? She turned around in a blink and froze too. The forever hidden mountain top was visible through a hole in the cloudy ceiling.
Beautifully white almost blinding, the top half of the behemoth was covered in snow, the verdant forest of the base fading a bit before the weirdly shaped forking peak, so pure she thought before tearing up in turn. She realized the mountain WAS blinding, blue light emitted by strange ethereal snakes twisting on the slopes was burning her eye. But she could not move even if she wanted to, It’s so beautiful she thought Are those… going upward?
Suddenly she heard a thump behind her, realizing the spring-mother fainted but soon the sound of bodies falling to the ground came from everywhere. She couldn’t tell what was upward anymore, the mountain was everywhere taking roots in the morning sky. Even so she had to see more, now her eyes felt like they were boiling, she wanted to scream and couldn’t, wouldn’t. Because she was watching the mountain covered in a regal dress made of innumerable threads of lights. It outshined even the sun; she realized every thread were some kinds of river going uphill. Now her head was getting hot and her body was trembling. She saw sumptuous ruins almost hidden by the concentration of blue light near the top. Slowly, a cloud was starting to hide the mountain from her sight. She felt a desperation, she never felt before even when she hid herself bloodied and weak during the attack three nights ago.
She tried to see as much as she could through the bloody tears, though she couldn’t see anything more, she started hearing something like a faraway music, a chorus of thousands in unison. The melancholy of the glorious chants moved her and made something in her tremble, though she couldn’t understand any of the words she felt the sadness and solemn respect for the sacrifice that was made here. As the clouds covered the blinding vision, Astrid fell on her back, completely blinded and felt like her ears were bleeding. Before fainting, she was felling her body spasm and the pain was getting worse.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
----------------------------------------
Her whole body was itching horribly, but through her cloudy thought, she remembered the weird vision she had. Startled, she jumped on her legs and woke herself near the now extinguished fire. It was not a dream, she thought getting instantly horrified, No sounds. Are they not waking up yet? When she tried to understand what was happening, she realized she was drenched in dried blood, weird flakes of dead skin glued to her arms. Looking at her fingers, she saw between them the form of the spring-mother still lying on the ground.
She ran toward the middle-aged woman, which she was sure had seen the mountain too, only to stop almost immediately. It stank. And Astrid knew that smell well. Blood, flesh and burned flesh, in short, the odor of painful death. But why? How did that happen? She took a step back before taking three more to reach the corpse of the spring mother, her status proudly marked by the red tunic she wore. It made a weird picture with the blood pooled under her head.
Amidst the red of the tunic, the pale face stood out because of the bloody and weirdly shaped eyelids. Her eyes were boiled, she had time to think before gagging. She didn’t take another look to the spring-mother, whose name was Maya if she remembered correctly.
When she walked out of the sleeping quarters of the camp, the sun shone red on the people everyone lying like they fell asleep. Half of the camp had burnt while she was out but seemed to have died out quite quickly. “All have burned eyes, none breathes… why? The vision on the mountain? Not everyone could have seen the mountain?” She mumbled and remembered; “The Mountain. It was so beautiful.”
She got up, I don’t remember falling on my knees, she remembered while wiping a few tears from her eyes. My eyes? Why aren’t they boiled or whatever? She went to a nearby water bucket, she felt some discomfort observing her own reflection, especially her eyes, mainly because no white remained. It looked like was completely made of blood, but she felt something more was different but couldn’t really name it. Great, now I look like one of the Battle-Crazed of the Cataya Tribe. She had met one, when she was a child, they were warriors raised by their tribe as war-machines and expert drug-users. I really hope it fades. She thought casually while getting up, feeling weirdly calm though the wind flowing gently on her skin and the clear weather made the situation made it weirdly unreal, she felt numb and distant but she was getting scared of checking on the other tribe members. She poured the bucket of water on her, just to try and remove the layer of dried blood and dirt on her, when she did that she realized she should have bled to death with just the amount she had on her clothes and skin.
She went to her tent to grab her stuff, all the while calling for survivors. No one answered. When she reached her couch and stuff, she sat. Slowly. She knew she had to go away. Soon scavengers and predators would fight to feast on what remained of her tribe. She just felt empty without her tribe, something was broken in her with the death of everyone she knew. Yet what scared her the most, was that she felt longing. Longing to see the Mountain again and its incredible lights. She felt complete as she felt her eyes burn. She felt an incredible bliss as her bleeding ears picked up the first chants. She never felt so weak, so frail when all of that disappeared behind the clouds.
Even when she started remembering, she got up quickly. I want to go see for myself? I want to climb the Mountain? Why? Just seeing it killed everyone. Why would I want to die in a place of frost and death? Die? The idea felt almost reassuring, there was a certainty in death. No choices to be made. Do I kill myself now? She remembered five days ago, when she used to hunt with her friends. Just gone now. She was alone and didn’t know what to do. I don’t want to die. She turned toward the dark and domineering shape, the only certainty. Something she could not understand, she wanted to know more about it. Why am I still alive when the others are dead?
She realized she knew what to do. She wanted to see the mountain top again, hear the glorious chants again. She wanted to know what killed 80ish remaining tribe members, what made her survive where everyone else died. I’m sorry I survived. I’m not the who should have but I’ll live on to try and see the summit.
Now she knew what to do, she started to work quickly she lit the usually precious tar-torches everywhere in the camp and started taking everything useful for travel she could think of. She ate everything she could though she had a lump in her throat. She took the best arrows she found and her beloved bow, found a sleeping bag made of fluffy white fur, a luxury she used to envy to the hunter-elders.
Now she entered the Matriarch’s tent. A privilege, she remembered, it seems so far away, when I dreamt to become the Matriarch and the Master-Huntress. Taught by the Ilia the Master-Huntress, she used to dream to take her place. But after the first attack, she realized what it meant: being a leader and dying like a warrior was nothing glorious. She saw her teacher she just bandaged from a terrible wound to the guts, order around the tribe until she fell down only to die a few days latter. If the Mountain hadn’t killed everyone, I may have been the younger Master-Huntress ever, she thought amused, in reality there was not many chances for her to take up the role right away with the tribe in danger, what was needed was experienced guiding from a veteran, not theoretical knowledge from a 16 years old Huntress. But it was true she was the last capable star reader from the Spring Followers.
She jolted back to reality when she saw the Matriarch, old, dignified and completely dead. She was sitting near the map of the Alibor plains with three elders. All turned toward the mountain, though inside a tent. Eyes burned like everyone else. Suddenly she felt a shiver. She could almost see death floating in the tent. She took the map, and went for the small chest behind the table, it was locked, she remembered the key was around the Matriarch’s neck. Security purpose, of course, because it contained the wealth of the tribe. Usually most of exchanges were made by trading, but for the sake of trading with the country folks, gold and gems were kept by the Matriarch.
After fumbling around the corpse of the Matriarch, she finally managed to open and transfer 30ish gold coins and gems. Feeling like she stole, she hurried out of the tent. She froze right when she came out, facing a big plain stalker sniffing around. His feline features and black fur stood out in the camp, his muzzle dripping of blood from a recently gutted guard, slowly he stepped back with the body of the man leaving a trail of innards. Breaking the her stupor, she just ran toward the beast, her short-sword first.
Which made him sprint out of her view, He is not far away, he just won’t take a direct confrontation, she hurried toward the center place where she managed, not without difficulty, to make everything fit inside a big leather-pack. Hearing not so far away sounds in the camp, I hope its only the stalker, thinking of the worst possible scenario - she remembered the mangled corpse she once saw, half eaten by a bunch of wild dogs - please let it not be a horde, I can’t think of a worst way of dying.
She took the heavy bundle and tried to set the camp on fire, in hope maybe to prevent the corpses to be eaten, she managed to start the fire on most of the tents at least burning, most would not burn totally she was sure but she tried, nevertheless. She felt sick probably because of the smell of burned flesh, maybe because by setting tents on fire, she went through the place where the children slept. And most of the survivors of the first attack where distant relatives she didn’t know well. But she knew most of the children, being one of the people teaching them since she became an adult one year ago.
She rushed out of the burning camp as soon as she thought the fire was spread enough. Fortunately, the beasts she knew were in the camp due to the footprints in the mud, didn’t seem to be interested in her. She knew fire would deprive them from most of the meal and would chase them out the camp. Running away, she didn’t need the map in her bag for now, she just had to follow the gigantic shadow in the night sky. She didn’t know what she wanted to do exactly once there. But honestly, it would already be a miracle to reach the Mountain.
Inside her a thirst she could not satisfy with any amount of water began to make itself known.