The next time I awake, my eyes open and I see stars. I bring my hands to my face to try and rub the grogginess away. In coming to my senses, I finally notice that I’m lying down in a leaf pile in the forest, and I am no longer tied to anything, and my arms are no longer broken. Did my father come and save me?

“You are definitely a warlock’s child, as there is no way that your arms should function, let alone your wounds could have healed this quickly,” says a familiar voice, “then again I knew you healed quickly, I just always assumed your father was the reason.”

I get up to my feet and immediately turn to face the source of the voice. A large frame greets my vision, sitting upon a stump. Gareth waves me to join him in his makeshift camp, and signals for me to come sit next to him.

“Broke Joseph’s nose once to see how long it would take to heal and if it would grow back straight,” Gareth jokes as he adjusts a few meat skewers positioned next to the fire, “his nose healed in about a season’s time, and never truly was straight again, you on the other hand when I busted your nose, it looked like nothing happened to you in less than a few days.”

I cautiously sit down next to this laughing giant. I don’t dare do anything to upset Gareth, as I find myself warily looking him up and down in disbelief. Never had Gareth spoken to me directly without insulting my parentage, or to damn me to a fate that the village has so generously placed upon me. Never had a villager even exchanged polite pleasantries with me.

In my disbelief all I could do was think, here sits a boy who would actively hunt me through the forest so that he could use me as a bloody spectacle for the enjoyment of his followers, and here he sits joking with me like a friend. Here sits a boy who only a short while ago knocked me out cold, who now is asking me to sit around a campfire with him. Here sits a boy who relished in the thought of my death at the hands of the trials of Martog, who now is risking a similar punishment to what I suffered for freeing me. Despite all these swirling, furious thoughts, my stomach rumbled bringing me back to reality.

“You must be hungry; it’s been… what… nearly two days since you’ve eaten last? If you need water here’s a skin,” says Gareth handing me a skewer and a water skin, that my stomach forces me to accept.

I quickly consume the meat and drain the drink and remain silent as I try to figure out Gareth’s angle. I’m already at a disadvantage as my less than human inheritance made manifest through my less than human healing speed may force the village to reject the fragile truce, we share due to my mother’s blood in my veins. However, the village didn’t have a chance to see it did they? I was hit in the back of the head, spine, and face but my bloodied face may have hidden any wounds that healed prior to me being strung up. As far as I know, I was only punished for trying to free Uzuri, which means…

“You alright there,” says Gareth slapping me on the back which surprisingly made me feel more at ease in his presence as it felt more real to feel him hit me than talk to me kindly, “you don’t need to fear speaking to me. We are far enough from the village that no one will know. In fact, I’ll tell them your lich of a… sorry… your father came and saved you. If you show your face around the village, they’ll probably be fearing the retribution your father will deliver and let you be. So don’t worry, just relax and eat more. There are a few more skewers left if you want them.”

“Did anyone notice that I heal quickly?” I ask my voice coming out somewhat rattled as I can feel myself trembling, “If they know that I have any Celandil traits, I may be deader than the boar that my grandmother uses as a headdress.”

“My father found it strange that you didn’t bruise that much, but then again he wasn’t trying to kill you when he caught yuh,” says Gareth shrugging his shoulders, and turning his attention to picking a skewer for himself, “if anything, I think I’m the only one who knows, and we may need you to learn more magic in the near future.”

I felt relieved for the smallest of moments, only to have my very being assaulted with questions once more. Gehenna caught me! The thought sends a shiver throughout my body. I had never encountered him in the alleys before, but as the village chief… but the village chief isn’t permitted to enter the alleys only the matriarchs can do that or at least that’s what I thought. Suddenly, an idea hit me as hard as my shovel did only two days ago.

“Gehenna hit me with my shovel, which was in the hole I dug,” I mutter under my breath, “the only way for him to have my shovel would mean that the house I was digging under was...”

“My father’s” Gareth confirms taking a bite of a skewer, “kind of explains why he went so far in punishing you now doesn’t it.”

“Which means Uzuri is your sister,” I say staring at Gareth in horror, the once friendly façade now crumbling into something far more sinister yet unsurprisingly familiar.

“What did she see?” asks Gareth looking into the sky.

I’m taken aback by this question and stunned into silence.

“What did she see?” asks Gareth again now looking me in the eyes. His own eyes are filled with tears, and for some reason my previous feelings toward him melt away and are replaced with guilt.

“Stars,” I say looking him in the eyes for a brief second and then turning away to look up at the sky myself, “she said they were beautiful. It almost made what happened to me worth it, but I can’t say that it was completely worth it as she has been taken back to Gehenna.”

I never expected to ever hear my bully speak to me like this, let alone be nice to me. However, never would I have guessed within my lifetime would I see him weep openly in front of me. Gareth’s large hand covered his face, and his breath came in rasps as he wept. His tears fell to the ground and faded into the dirt.

“How is it that you were strong enough to free her?” he says pounding his fists into his legs, “How is it an outsider, so small and weak, was able to show her the stars, when I could do nothing!”

“If you care so much for her, why have you done nothing then?” I ask, knowing that my remark was callous, but some of the resentment I felt toward my bully was trickling back into my remembrance.

“I tried! I went to the high matriarch, and she told me that she has a purpose, and I shouldn’t involve myself in things that the goddess judged,” says Gareth through his tears, “I may be strong, but my father is stronger. He nearly beat me to death when the high matriarch told him of our discussion, and I don’t heal as fast as you.”

“That’s all you’ve done?” I ask shaking my head now feeling furious, “one attempt and you called it quits? I walked into the village at my own risk to talk to my grandmother and endured lashings while I screamed to her about Uzuri. Ever since then, I’ve been trying for nearly six passes of the seasons to break her free! I’ve tried sawing at the wall, carving holes, all while trying to avoid the matriarchs! Each of my attempts to destroy the wall was met with the wall growing stronger and thicker. I finally spent nearly one and a half passes digging so carefully that sometimes it felt like a season passed and I was no closer to rescuing her than when I started. You are pathetic, if anyone could free her and had the ability to do so, it was you and you abandoned her.”

I felt so petty yelling those things at him. I felt like a child, trying to say my stick is better than your stick. I felt wretched, and just as much a failure as him. Right now, I can sense we both want what’s best for Uzuri, but neither of us has the power to do so.

“I know that you have been trying to help her! I know you have endured abuse for her like me, and I just added to your burdens. I resented you, because she would talk highly of a secret visitor that couldn’t have been anyone else but you,” says Gareth his face now concealed in both of his hands, “but, you did something I couldn’t. Seeing your success and what the village has done, I know there is no way to free her on my own or even your own as well.”

Gareth sits up and tries to regain his composure. He takes a few deep breaths and eats the rest of his skewer in a single bite. Then he laughs again.

“I can’t believe I’m about to ask for your help. Why would you accept? I have tormented you for so long that there isn’t a reason for you to accept,” he says wiping the tears out of his eyes.

“Depends, on what you’re offering. I’m not one to turn down a good deal,” I say, somewhat interested in what he has to say. He rescued me from another morning with Gehenna, so I might as well listen.

“The trials of Martog,” says Gareth lifting his hands in a motion to try and make light of what he just said.

“Right, the secretive barbaric ritual your people use to cull male children when too many males are born in a year. Perfect plan! I’m obligated to participate because your lovey dovey coming of age festival the Amolacrimae will inevitably lead to me not being selected to live by any of the village girls to be their future husband,” I rant to Gareth as his idea seems absolutely idiotic and suicidal. Ranting though makes me feel somehow better, as if getting these worries off my chest is freeing somehow.

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I decide to continue ranting” Martog’s maw, the girls my age think I’m a thief and let’s face it I haven’t been able to speak to any of them or even enter the village. Even before last night’s debacle, I was labeled a child of sin, because my mother chose the love an outsider and gave up her future duty to become a high matriarch to be with my father. The village believes I must be the one to atone for my mother’s sins by dying during the trials. Now, tell me how the trials which I can’t even run from or have any hope of being selected to avoid are going to help us?”

The trials had been weighing on my mind for quite a while, especially considering I’ll have to face them in one pass’ time. I personally thought that freeing Uzuri would have changed things for me, as I would have exposed a great evil and possibly been accepted into the village. Reality often decides to be cruel though. Now, it looks like if I can’t find some way to scale the near vertical crystalline cliffs that surround this pit in the mountains in less than a pass, I’ll have to face the trials and die, or be hunted down like a boar, cornered at the obsidian walls, and then die painfully skewered by multiple spears.

“Do you know what happens if you become a victor of the trials?” asks Gareth, to which I shake my head.

“I don’t know. Die but perhaps with a tad more honor,” I say shrugging my shoulders.

“You become the new village chief,” he says putting a hand on my shoulder, “and as chief I believe I will have the authority to free Uzuri.”

“So, I get to die, and you become chief, sounds like a great plan. Also, you will be selected to be some girl’s future husband during the day of Amolacrimae and live a long life” I say getting up off the stump I was sitting on getting ready to leave, “I’ll find some other way to free Uzuri before the trials, and perhaps I’ll die in peace when the trials come to claim me. Afterall she is a pass younger than us, so even if I free her, it’s not like she can free me of my fate, only the girls our age can do that.”

I feel Gareth’s hand grasp around my wrist, “Skath, please listen. The only way to become the chief after the trials is to first refuse the saving hand of someone you love during an Amolacrimae of sin and to then return to her after the trials have been successfully completed. If someone who wasn’t chosen to live or be wed at the Amolacrimae of sin survives the trials of Martog, this type of victor may live and instead of a woman choosing him, he may choose a woman he loves. This is the only way a man can marry someone younger than himself.”

“As far as I can remember the chances of survival are slim,” I say sitting down once more, “I remember there being at least four Amolacrimaes of sin just in our lifetimes, and every single one resulted in every boy selected to go not coming back.”

“There is one within near memory that had two victors,” says Gareth nodding his head acknowledging that whatever the trials were, they were not something that often resulted in victors, “the year my father underwent the trials he was a victor and was selected by many women of the village to be their husband. However, despite being a victor and having the right to select his bride he was not able to marry his first choice. Another victor had emerged from the trials before him, your father, who took your mother as his bride. This is partially why you are permitted to live and even participate in the Amolacrimae of sin.”

I sat stunned at what I had just learned. I’ve asked my father and mother about how they had met and their love story before, but they always dropped that detail from their story. I guess it is also why my father hasn’t worried about me being condemned to the trials. He came out of the trials victorious, why wouldn’t his son also be able to overcome them?

“Why was my father able to participate?” I ask wondering how an outsider would have been able to even approach the village.

“Your mother chose him at the Amolacrimae she chose to participate in, and at that time no laws had been established against a woman selecting an outsider as her husband. No outsider had ever been to the village, the goddess had supposedly destroyed all other humans besides us. The compromise for him being nominated by your mother to wed him was for him to pass the trials,” explains Gareth digging into another skewer.

“So, I’m guessing that your plan is that we help each other pass the trials, as given our fathers passed, we should be able to pass them,” I say to have Gareth nod his head excitedly, “with both of us being victors of the trials this would permit you to have the authority over your father to free Uzuri, and I could take you sister’s hand as my wife which means I would be able to live. Are you sure about this, do you feel comfortable having an outsider take away your sister’s agency like that? Would she even want me?”

“About that, I do feel she would accept you and would choose you if circumstances were different,” says Gareth now brandishing an empty skewer in his mouth, “as for her being my sister, I can only say that’s only partially true. She isn’t the child of my mother, even if my mother treats her like her own whenever my father isn’t around. She is the child of my father, and her mother is a mystery. I’ve never seen Uzuri’s face, so I have nothing to go on when it comes to possible women in the village that could be her mother. Then again, infidelity is a mortal crime, so the mystery of Uzuri continues to grow especially considering what happened with your escape attempt.”

My heart flutters in my chest. I know it may be somewhat odd to feel like this considering the only confirmation that my feelings could be reciprocated was Gareth’s words, but I feel a sort of relief. Realizations then creep back into my mind, as reality sets back in as my thoughts continue.

If we fail, we both die, and Uzuri will most likely be condemned to her imprisonment forever. If I live and Gareth dies, I won’t become chief, and Uzuri will most likely still be imprisoned even if I choose her. I may still be killed if I continue to try and free her even as a victor of the trials, considering what just happened to me. If I die, and Gareth succeeds, she will be freed. Out of the options only half result in her freedom, one results in the best-case scenario, the other possibilities result in Uzuri’s continued imprisonment, and nearly three fourths of the possible outcomes result in my death. There is just too much risk involved with Gareth’s plan, and despite wanting to do anything for Uzuri, I still want to live.

“What happens if I can find another way to free Uzuri?” I ask hating myself for my cowardice, hating myself as my love for Uzuri is weaker than that for my own life, “What happens if I can find a way to escape this damned hole in the mountains?”

“I will not ask you to sacrifice your life, especially considering that a part of your reward for being a victor will be to live amongst people who will most likely still despise you,” says Gareth flicking his empty skewer stick into the dying fire and staring into its final flickering tongues.

Gareth looks away from the fire and into my eyes as he continues, “I do not think Uzuri would hate you if you chose to leave. You have already done so much for her. You have been her friend and have shown her the stars. I wouldn’t hate you either if you choose to live especially if there is more to this world than the black walls, and somehow you find a way to surpass them. Maybe you could use an abandoned teratolion tunnel if one of those even exists. Also, if you find a way to save her without the trials, I will gladly assist you. Just know if I do die during the trials without your assistance Uzuri may never see the stars again.”

“I know,” I say running my hands through my hair, feelings of guilt tearing at my innards. I couldn’t bring myself to speak and we sat in silence as we stared at the dregs of the fire in front of us.

“You mentioned that we may need more magic than my body’s healing?” I ask, looking at Gareth again, my only desire being to break the clawing silence.

“Your father apparently used great magics to surpass the trials,” says Gareth looking at me exhilarated by the topic, “if you can even do a fraction of what he could, and with us working together the trials should be a breeze.”

“I’m not my father Gareth. I wish I was! Uzuri would have been free several times over if I was. The best I can do after years of study is this,” I say gritting my teeth as agony erupts through my body, pain so intense that without my prior training I would be passed out on the ground. Despite the pain, I focus and strain until a small not even candle worthy flame emerges from my fingertip and disappears just as fast as it was produced.

I see Gareth’s face contort into an expression of disbelief, as I continue speaking, “My father was probably more than able to pass the trials as he is much more than a man and the very elements seem to obey him. His very body seems to generate forces no human could even dream of. I’m just me Gareth and I may just slow you down. Even if I were to somehow gain more power miraculously in little under a pass, it would not be anywhere comparable to that of my father. Hell, if I did learn more magic would I be accepted into the village? Or would the matriarchs declare that I’m one warlock to many?”

“They probably wouldn’t accept you to tell the truth,” says Gareth seeming a little deflated and less large than usual, “they permit your father to exist due to honoring the fact, no laws were in effect before he arrived. You on the other hand are subject to laws that would most likely have you killed.”

Now that even the best-case scenario resulted in my death, we could do nothing but sit in silence and now the fire is nothing but smoke. What is most precious to me? my life, or Uzuri? I feel paralyzed by that thought, as she has saved me more than she realizes. Her kindness to me by merely speaking to me when no one but my family would, has been something so meaningful to me that at some points in my miserable existence her voice was the only thing keeping me from taking my own life. Now that I must truly face my mortality, I feel frozen. In the past my attempts to save Uzuri the only harm to come my way were lashes and now being strung up. Now that my life is on the line I can’t seem to commit.

My soul feels torn, as a part of me knows that there is a chance that I can personally escape my fate and be free of the village. My father came from beyond the walls encasing Unadeam. This valley trapped in the mountains is not the entire world, there is so much more out there! I sit and reminisce as my mind wanders to my father’s stories of the world beyond Unadeam, he used to tell me as a child to put me to sleep. There is a world out there, I know it, I just don’t know how to get there. I’ve spent all my time trying to free Uzuri in a vain hope that I’d be able to spend the rest of my life to find a way out of this damned pit… in the vain hope that somehow I would be able to show the world to Uzuri beyond her four walls and beyond the obsidian ones that entrap both of us. I want to live, I want to see the world hidden from me, but most of all I want Uzuri to be able to see it with or without me.

“I promise that if I can’t free Uzuri, I’ll endure the trials with you,” I say to Gareth, “I will become a celandil so that we will be able to pass the trials with certainty, even if doing so may lead the matriarchs to destroy me.”