A hero will rise from the fire unscathed. The heat only making them stronger. The scars create resolve, the pain turns into callous. They become as unyielding as the wind. As wild as the seas. No one can tame them or control them.
That is what we will need. A force of nature incarnated in flesh.
-Doc Vorran, date unknown
LESEDI:
I mutter to myself with frustration. Talea lies on her stomach unconscious. Her body is as level as I can manage, she’s naked from the hips up. I try to survey the extent of the damage, but there are so many unknowns.
We had to make up camp right here and lose half a night’s travel, but lives are more important. The julnik will take a month to grow a new bulb so it’s no longer a threat. Othin assigned guard shifts to look out for any other tendrils climbing from the ground. I insisted on moving Talea as little as possible so we erected the tent around where she fell.
The roaring of his voice still rings in my ears. The image of his face is stuck in my mind, he looked like he was about to lose himself to madness. Like Talea is the only string keeping his sanity woven together. Now he looks to me to save the person he loves, the person I love too, when in reality I’m overwhelmed. I’m just a girl that’s memorized a lot of books. I have no experience in actual doctoring.
I focus on assessing her physical damage. Bruising begins appearing in clusters centrally located around the spine. Yellow and blue spreads away from the middle of her back in every direction. It looks like mud splattered snow. The calf muscles are almost black with bruising where the plant gripped her, the choice to cut her boots saved her for sure. Even one more slam into the ground would have killed her. She shows signs of a serious concussion with more bruising along the back of her neck. Nothing appears to be broken, aside from her ribs, but that doesn’t mean nothing is fractured. Or bleeding internally. Or any myriad of things that can be killing her at this moment.
Othin crouches beside her staring with all the intensity he can muster at everything I’m doing. “Will she live?” His unnerving deep voice is softened by deep concern.
I sigh. “I’m not sure Othin. Bruising is fine, normal. I’m concerned about the magnitude of damage she took. Her back may be fine but her brain could be damaged, her organs could be punctured. I think she’s broken her ribs; those could have punctured her lungs. But thus far though her breathing is shallow, it’s consistent. So that’s a good sign. But if her skin starts turning blue, we’re in trouble.” My shoulders slump as I look him in the eye. “Honestly, anything can be wrong and I don’t know.”
Othin nods with understanding. Though I doubt he understands much of what I’m saying. “What is the highest problem?”
I let out a breath feeling overwhelmed. “If those bruises begin to turn black and spread then she’s bleeding into her body cavity. It would mean one of her organs has torn or ruptured in some way. Likewise, if she develops new bruising on her abdomen by her naval.”
Othin frowns. “What will you do then?”
I look up at him full of heartbreak. “There will be nothing I can do if that happens. She would need precise surgery to mend the insides. I’m not trained for that and I don’t have the equipment.”
Othin points to the blue and yellow bruised clusters. “If she gets more of these and they darken she dies?”
I breathe out slow through the nose, it helps calm me. “Yes. It was a lot of damage; it could have done any number of things to her. At this point we have to wait and see how she heals. I’ll wrap her broken ribs and keep her still. That will help prevent further damage. If the ribs and a concussion are the only crucial injury she got away with, then she is very lucky.” My shoulders slump. “That’s a big if.”
He shakes his head. “Not lucky. She is strong. I will watch the bruises.”
I smile and resist the urge to give him a comforting tap on the shoulder. He’d likely try to kill me in reflex. “Well, she’s unconscious for now. I’ll have a much better idea of how she is when she wakes up.” If she does. “I need to go tend to the others. Call for me if she wakes up or anything new happens. Bleeding anywhere, vomiting, anything at all. Understand?”
He nods and turns his eyes back to Talea, forming his clasped hands into a fist and resting his chin on it. As much as I may have issues with him, with all this, there is no doubt that he’s the one for her. His love is inexhaustible.
I leave the tent and try my best to leave my worries behind. But Talea is there in the back of my mind gnawing at me. I want to cry. To scream. To hurt something. But I have to stay composed, there are others that need my tending. Others that need care. So, I stuff those feelings down inside, a skill I have proficiency in at this point in my life.
The nightstalkers sit by a fire, their gray skin is smeared with odd violet hues. It looks like blood, but it isn’t theirs. Nightstalker blood is red like ours. Zigons have violet blood though, I look around and the thought dawns on me, what happened to the zigon they had been riding?
My eyes search the camp, off away from everyone Vrx and Jar’kog are skinning the animals. I suppose they didn’t make it, so now we’re also down by two mounts. I see Meekala hacking apart the enormous bodies into chunks of muscle and laying them out on the snow. I cringe, I think they’re planning on eating it.
A creaky voice calls to me. “Daypeople not look so good.”
I shake my head bringing myself to the present. “No, uh, I was just wondering what happened to the zigon you were riding.”
Kr’thitch shakes his head. He brings his arms out far to the side and then slams them together in a loud clap. He twists the hands and breaks them apart wiggling his fingers as the hands fall. “Part swallowed, part not.”
I gulp and feel a bit sick with the thought. Judging from the carnage I would say the julnik managed to tear off the head and shoulders of one zigon, and the hind quarters of another, in the motion that gobbled up the pack members. I look up at the soft snow flakes falling and I’m grateful, it’ll help cover the blood and innards spattered across the snow.
I smile at the odd fellow and kneel down beside him to investigate his injuries. His hair is ridiculous, standing straight out at all ends. He has an interesting piece of jewelry through the top of his ear, it looks like a short thin spike that has a slight curve towards the tip.
I touch my hands to his face and turn his head from side to side as gentle as I can. “May I ask, what is that in your ear?”
Kr’thitch grins. “Bloodling.”
My eyes squint uncomprehending. “I’m sorry what?”
He taps the ear piece with the tip of his black claw and realization dawns over me. The spike through his ear is a claw. Or part of one. I know the nightstalkers sometimes take trophies, like Othin’s belt of teeth. “Is that claw of your brother?”
He nods. “I won.”
I shudder. Savages. Killing each other for blood lust and trophies, it’s all madness. Kr’thitch smiles and hums a nonsensical tune as he stares into the fire. Every few minutes a body part will twitch or his head will jerk. He doesn’t seem to notice. He has no major wounds, only a few cuts and bruises, one of which needs stitching.
I look over at Gi’mntat, he’s a calming presence as far as nightstalkers go. He holds his head high instead of hunched and distorted. He walks straight. There’s a spark behind his eyes that feels like a glimmer of intellect. Even though he speaks little I know in my core there’s a mind in there.
Twisting splotches of black and purple cover his arms, though it’s hard to see underneath the smeared blood, nothing seems to be broken or bleeding. To be honest, the shape they’re all in is nothing short of miraculous. One thing that is concerning is his shoulder has been rammed from its socket. That’ll need to be fixed right away.
I look up at him. “Your shoulder is out of place. Does it hurt?”
He gives me a labored nod, it looks like his neck muscles must’ve been pulled. I give his forearm a gentle pat. “I’m going to need to push it back into place. It will hurt more. Do you understand?”
Gi’mntat nods once more. He turns to look at the hanging shoulder. The tip of his claw points from the ball of his shoulder up to the joint. He raises his eyebrows as if in question. I nod. “Yes. I’ll have to push it back. Are you ready?”
He nods. As I prepare to fix the shoulder, Gi’mntat gives me a gentle push to back away. He straightens his back, wraps a hand on his wrist, and in one firm motion pulls his arm straight out in front of him popping it back in. I hear a series of cracks and see his face flinch with pain. It takes all my restraint to not gasp.
I smile and pat his hand. “You’re very strong. Do you have a long strip of cloth I can use to secure your arm? I don’t want you to injure it again.”
He turns to Kr’thitch and the they share prolonged eye contact for a minute, it just feels awkward to me. Kr’thitch rolls his eyes as his head jerks, so Gi’mntat smacks him in the head with his good arm. Grumbling, the nightstalker gets up and walks away to fetch him something. I smile at him; it’s refreshing to have a reassuring person. It’s something I certainly need right now.
I feel someone approach and I see Gi’mntat stiffen. Rala stands by the flickering fire. She hands me the torn off bottom of a cloak. “Kr’thitch could not find what you need.”
I take it with caution. My voice can’t mask my suspicion. “Thank you.”
I set to work securing his wounded arm against his chest and tying the knot behind his back. It’ll be annoying for him but at least he’ll heal properly. Or at least as properly as he can. When the work is done, I turn to look at Rala, but she’s gone. Bumps appear on my skin; she makes me shudder. Looking at Gi’mntat I can see I’m not the only one. What kind of monster must she be to frighten other nightstalkers so much?
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“Now, you need rest to heal. Take care of that shoulder.” I stand up to see to other patients.
As I do, he takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. Lesedi.”
For some reason I blush and squeeze his hand back. Not knowing what to say I step around the fire to the patients I’ve been dreading. The twins. Oh, the twins. They give me shudders from my toes to my ears. I at once feel insecure around them, but I summon my courage and keep my head held high. I need to project strength.
Daku crouches by the fire, her paltry amount of armor barely covering her. She must be cold by now, but she won’t admit it, she can’t keep up wearing nothing like this. Viko approaches her sister and drapes her cloak over her. How clever. The cloaks are to keep the snow out, which is socially acceptable, but it also provides just enough warmth. Their bodies are fascinating, as far as I can tell they are able to adjust to any amount of cold but in so doing they use up massive amounts of energy. They need to consume a lot more food when exposed to the elements, and if they go too long exposing themselves they visibly slow down. Nightstalkers, they don’t think! It’s one thing to run about in the cold wearing nothing and retreating home. But out here with nothing but a fire, and sometimes not even that, it’s not sustainable. They all need more protection.
Viko kneels on the ground beside her sister and cackles. The both of them have a few cuts and bruises, their bodies are smeared in blood, but nothing serious to report. Daku gazes at the tent deep in thought, as she does so Viko quiets down and looks with her. It’s strange and unsettling to watch the two.
The silence is broken as Viko snaps to glare at her sister. “Want the what to do?” Daku’s eyes don’t leave the tent. Her right hand lifts and lands on her sister’s shoulder. Viko shakes her head. “No. Not a moonrunner.”
Viko pauses, I’m clearly only hearing half a conversation. “Halfmoon not deserve. Names want the remembered.”
Daku turns her head, breaking her stare at the tent, and glares hard into Viko’s eyes. She flinches and shrinks back, submitting to her sister’s will. “Fine. Halfmoon want the name. Why?”
I frown grappling for comprehension. “I don’t understand.”
“See!” Viko turns to her sister gesturing wildly. “Halfmoon not understand! No name for-” She pauses and turns back to me speaking with slow words. “Want the halfmoon leader name. New name.”
I assume they’re talking about Talea. What do they mean by a new name? It’s all so abstract for them, so difficult to understand. Kr’thitch creaks with high pitched chuckles in the background. He screeches something and others from around the camp follow suit. They’re laughing at me because I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything! These people are crazy and I’m getting sucked into this whirlwind of insanity.
Viko is growing frustrated and angry from not being understood. Kr’thitch is near hysterics and there’s a general laughter on the wind. I glance over my shoulder and see Gi’mntat take his good arm and shove Kr’thitch hard in the shoulder tumbling him into the snow. He picks up a stone from at his feet and throws it past Daku hitting Viko square in the arm. She shrieks and glares.
I smile at him in thanks, he looks up at me. “They want to give Talea her moonrunner name.”
I frown. “Why?”
The twins share another pause staring at each other, the frustration is struggling to stay under the surface. Viko’s knot locks swish in slow movements as she turns to face me. I can see her digging to find the right words and put them in the right order.
She speaks slow, choosing each word with deliberation. “Halfmoon proved moonrunner. Halfmoon kill, save, want the be of clan. Leader.”
By now I know who’s calling the shots. I step over and lower myself to my knees to look up at Daku. Those narrow red eyes stare back at me, but instead of hate, they hold something akin to respect. “I understand. Talea saved you at risk of her own life. To recognize her as one of you and show your respect you want to give her a moonrunner name.”
Daku nods. I don’t like the sound of that. Giving her a nightstalker name, as if she’s becoming one of them. I decide to sort out my feelings later. “What is her new name?”
Viko speaks with the most respect I’ve heard her utter. “Tu’kari.”
A picture begins to form in my mind, but it’s blurred and unclear. What does come across is feelings. Strong emotions bursting with power and ferocity. I feel something that can’t be summed up in one word, something complex. The only way I can process it in my mind is the feeling of wanting to follow a person, not because they protect you or because you have to. But because you want to see their power, you want to be where they go. Admiration perhaps, but at the same time that word isn’t enough.
I nod trying to emulate their respect. “I will tell her.”
Feeling drained in every way I retreat back to the tent. This nonsense of a new name, why does she even need a new name? She has one, it’s Talea. The name our mother gave her. Skysinger names are noble and good. Each name resembles an ideal that their parent hopes the child will achieve. Talea’s means Wisdom. Mine means courage. I sigh with the irony. Perhaps Tu’kari will fit her better, though I will refuse to use it.
I know this is good, it means she’s been accepted into their pack. She’s no longer a burden forced upon them. They see her as a full nightstalker, as their leader. They’ll be less inclined to kill us now. She proved herself. But the more time we spend with these creatures, the more Talea melds in with them. I feel like I’m losing my sister piece by piece. I’m afraid that soon she’ll be one of them. I fear that one day Talea will be gone, replaced by Tu’kari.
✽✽✽
TALEA:
I open my eyes, it’s light inside the tent. It must be day time. My neck is stiff and aches, so much I can’t turn it either way. I’m lying on my stomach and feel like I’ll vomit. I begin trying to sit up but pain slams my body and I can’t help but shriek in reflex.
“Talea!” Othin’s voice rings as he rushes to me and braces me in his arms. “You woke!”
In a flash Lesedi is right beside me too. She starts fussing over me and examining every inch of my body muttering to herself in words I don’t understand. She makes her way back to my face and pulls down my cheeks to look into my eyes.
Her words are manic and rushed. “Are you feeling nauseated? Do you have pain? Where? How bad? Do you feel stomach cramps? Are you dizzy?”
I pull up my left hand and shove her away. She falls backwards onto her back. I reply with a curt grunt. “If you pause to breathe, I’ll answer your questions!”
Lesedi pulls herself back to her knees and smooths her hair back to regain composure. “I’m sorry Talea. I need to know you’re alright.”
Othin chuckles. I can feel his chest moving while he laughs. “She is fine Lesedi.”
I sit up with a groan, my ribs ache with so much pain I can barely breathe. Othin leans me against a bundle of blankets. Furry blankets, that’s odd. His face holds the brightest smile I’ve ever seen, but as soon as it arrives on his face it falls back into worry and pain.
His long fingers wrap around my head into my frizzy mess of hair. “I feared I lost you.”
I grin at him and summon the strength to pinch his chin. “Now after all I’ve put you through, what makes you think I would give up on you so easily?”
He puffs out a breath of relief. “After ten days of-”
My eyes burst open wide and I choke on a sharp intake of breath. “Ten days?! I’ve been asleep for ten days?!”
Lesedi nods. “We were afraid to move you. For a while you showed signs of internal bleeding. Your skin was turning black and spongy. There was nothing we could do.” Her voice chokes and she covers with a soft cough into her fist. “Then two days ago the color softened to yellow. My only guess is you healed, quickly. Possibly a nightstalker regenerative ability. They are hard to kill, so are you.”
I grin with satisfaction and Lesedi slaps me in the cheek. I frown and rub my face. “Hey! Don’t slap your patient!”
She glares at me with the most intense gaze I’ve ever seen on her face. She seethes with a mix of rage, pain, and frustration. Her voice is firm and deliberate. “You are not immortal. You came within a hair’s breadth of death. You need to be better Talea.” Her intimidating expression softens when her eyes water with tears.
I reach out and pull her into a soft hug, still flinching. I speak with a soft voice over my sister’s softer tears. “I know. I’m so sorry.” She nods and pulls away wiping her eyes. I reach out and grasp Othin’s forearm. “Now, are you saying we’re ten days behind schedule? We’ve been parked for ten days?”
Lesedi sighs. “Yes. But don’t stress about it. The pack doesn’t mind. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up, if you woke up. Everyone has had plenty of food and to be honest all of them needed a rest also.”
They were determined to stay here until I either lived or died. I didn’t think any besides those in this tent cared that much. They don’t care, I’m just their job. They probably are all scared if they abandoned me, they’d answer to the bane. It certainly won’t help matters now that I’ve held them all up for ten days recuperating from my wounds. Frustration shoots through my limbs, I just want to run away.
I take a breath and start to move. “Alright, well, I’m better now. So, let’s get a move on.”
Othin reaches out and pushes his hand against my chest, his fingers span all the way across. He doesn’t shove or force me back down. He simply rests his hand in place preventing me from moving further. I struggle against the weight of him, but I’m still tired and weak. Yielding I lay back on the blankets.
Lesedi smiles. “You have three broken ribs. You’re getting better but you need to be careful not to re-injure yourself. Nothing strenuous until all the pain is gone.”
I smirk at Othin. “Too bad.”
He shakes his head with a laugh. “In your state I would be too afraid I would break you woman.”
I roll my eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m not a delicate tea cup, we need to get going.”
Lesedi shakes her head. “You need one more day of rest minimum.”
I rub my temples filling with stress. “Les, what has the weather been like?”
Her brows scrunch together and her nose wrinkles. “It’s been fine. You don’t have to worry.”
Anxiety wells up inside me. She doesn’t see it; she’s been blinded by taking care of me the past ten days. “Fine? Warm and sunny fine?”
She pauses for a moment as her eyes widen and she gasps. Now she sees it. “The calm.”
I nod. “We’re about to hit the rage. I’m not a complete idiot. Every lune the calm comes just before the rage. The weather gets nice for a couple weeks before we get hit with the full power of lune. And we’re camped out here in the middle of the hills. With nothing but a tent.”
Lesedi frowns and turns inward muttering to herself. “The calm on average lasts eight to fourteen days. We have some time-”
I shake my head with exasperation. “No, we don’t. We need a plan. Nightstalkers are resilient, but we can’t march through what’s ahead right?”
She shakes her head. “No, we’ll die for sure. Even the nightstalkers won’t hold up against the elements.”
I start to sit up again. “We need to get going now. Pack up as quick as we can and get moving. We only have a couple of days to find some shelter. Our best chance is to wait out the storms.”
Othin looks to Lesedi for guidance, she nods, so he removes his hand and lets me sit up. She turns to grab something and places a stack of fur beside me. The fur is a bright gold color and when I touch it my fingers curl from the softness. Realization falls over me, this is zigon fur. One of the mounts must have not made it. Industrious of them though.
“We lost two mounts.” Lesedi answers my unasked question. “Turns out those nightstalkers have a few tricks up their sleeves. Did you know they eat everything? Even the organs.” She cringes and gestures like she’s vomiting. “Turns out one of them is quite a crafter. She made this for you.”
With the help of Othin I come to my feet, he bends over and picks it up. It’s a zigon fur cloak, complete with hood. It’s not as elegant as some of the other cloaks I’ve seen, but it’s impressive for being out here in the middle of nowhere. Lesedi starts helping me dress, my clothes were ruined in the attack. Fortunately, my sister had the presence of mind to pack me spare clothes. Something simple that didn’t even occur to me. I’m not an idiot, I packed weapons, knife sharpeners, blade oil, rope, a bedroll, water flasks, and food. The clothing though, that slipped my mind.
After a few minutes I’m dressed in a semi-fresh magenta tunic with a black vest and gray pants. These also were altered by Lesedi to tuck tight around my ankles in order to fit into my boots, I much prefer the wide loose pant legs. I noticed the buckles on my boots have been repaired, little stitch marks form neat lines along the cuts.
“You did a good job on the boots.” I smile at Lesedi admiring the handiwork.
She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me.”
I frown. “Who then?”
“I hope you do not mind.” I turn to see Meekala standing at the tent door. “You only had the one pair. It had to be salvaged.”
“I’m glad I didn’t waste your hard work by dying.” I smirk as I look at my boots.
She returns my grin. “I knew you would wake up. I wanted to be prepared for when you did.”
I shake my head confused by the respect I feel from her. “Why?
“You fight like a moonrunner. I knew you would survive like one.” We share a pause, my stomach flutters with hope that I might be able to do this after all.
I shrug trying to not look too excited. “Well, I had no idea nightstalkers were so talented with leather work.”
Meekala’s kindred smile falls into a frown of anxiety. “Most do not. I-” She pauses and looks away with shame.
Flinching with pain I step towards her and rest a hand on her shoulder, carefully. “Let me guess, moonrunners are supposed to acquire their leather goods, not make them.”
She looks up at me fuming, but I can tell the rage is not directed at me. “Daypeople leather is not good enough. You make it from plants. Skin is stronger. I-”
My hand squeezes her shoulder with reassurance. “Meekala, you don’t need to explain yourself. I’m grateful and impressed.”
Meekala stands staring at me with a bright smile. It takes me by surprise after being treated with contempt for so long. But maybe they’re finally ready to listen to me, follow me, respect me. That terrifies me more than when they all wanted to kill me. I can’t hide under Othin’s cloak anymore, following him along trusting him to guide me. I have to take charge. I have to lead.
I gulp and assume all the confidence I can muster. “We need to break camp at once. Suns up or down we need to leave. I want two zigons sent ahead with two riders each scouting for shelter. Caves, burrows, anything. They have orders to return to the pack if they see so much as a snowflake. Understood?”
She nods and ducks out of the tent barking orders at the camp. I turn to Othin and Lesedi. “Anything else?”
Lesedi raises an eyebrow. “Impressive. You need to rest while we break camp. Don’t push yourself, if it hurts Othin can carry you.”
I snap my finger towards him. “There is no way under the stars you are carrying me. Understand?”
He smirks. “But you let me carry you for other things.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “And apparently none of that right now either.”
I turn to exit the tent for the first time in over a week. Every step is painful, my torso is bound so tight in bandages I can’t bend, and my breaths are shallow at best. But I can’t let any of them see that. I push aside the tent door with my head held high, despite that internally I want to crumble.
To my surprise in front of me is the entire pack. They stand in a straight line staring at me with, respect. All of them. It’s something I’d given up hope of earning from them. Well, almost all of them. Rala sits off to the side on her zigon looking uninterested in every way. But from the rest of them I feel a wave of admiration and acceptance. Pride even.
The twins step forwards. Daku looks at me with eyes forward and a slight smile teasing her lips. Viko speaks but I can feel that they’re her sister’s words. “You, halfmoon, proved strong. Now you are moonrunner. We name you Tu’kari. You lead, we follow.”
The nightstalkers screech with happy screams as hoots float into the air with approval. Chanting ensues “Tu’kari! Tu’kari! Tu’kari!”
I close my eyes and my mind fills with my new name. I feel a sense of fearlessness. I see a figure of a warrior twisting and turning cutting down enemies with more figures fighting at her side. Tu’kari, it means a leader of power and strength who fights for others and they follow. This is my new name, my moonrunner name, it’s who I need to be. I glance at Othin grinning with pride.
I look out at the gray faces, faces whose respect I now command. After struggling for it, there it is, and I don’t know how to respond. I smile, I’m finally accepted and it feels unlike anything else. I’ve never fit in, anywhere. Yet out here in the snowy hills among gray skinned killers, I find my place.
I muster up strength in my voice. “I am Tu’kari the moonrunner! Together, we will destroy our enemies!”
Screams howl in approval. I look over to Lesedi, she seems disturbed but proud. Her head is held high without fear or trembling, she’s becoming secure among these people. She’s changing, we both are. I look towards the future not as a scared angry skysinger. I am a brave moonrunner that commands the respect of the strongest in the Blood Banes.
I am Tu’kari, and I am a force to be reckoned with.