Priya was working in Tohki’s garden, laying down seeds in the cold ground that would yield the next harvest, when word came that strange men were coming down the mountain towards the village.

Kuji had spotted them when he was stalking a deer through the upper reaches of the forest near the treeline. At first he had thought that they were animals; perhaps mountain goats migrating through the mountain pass. But their patterns were different. The figures moved more carefully than animals and in more of a cohesive pattern. It was when the sun had reflected off the figures that Kuji was able to understand what they were and he left his hiding spot, running back to the village as fast as he could.

There was an excitement in the village. It was an excitement that was laced with fear, though.

Kuji had gathered the other hunters, including Arcas, in the center of the village. There was a nervous energy among them as they shuffled about, gripping their spears and axes, their long knives strapped to their waists.

“Where did they come from?” Arcas asked.

Aiden and Samuel, Josif’s oldest sons, stood amongst the other hunters. “Should we fight them?” Aiden asked.

“We do not know why they are here,” Josif replied.

Artamos strode through the hunters, batting down their raised spears. “Calm yourselves. Do not act the fool.”

Gal looked to Tohki who sat on a nearby bench, leaning into her walking stick for support. “What does this mean, Tohki?” Gal asked.

Tohki looked up at her, then out to where the forest met the footpath. “I do not know. As old as I am, I have never known anyone outside of this vale. And the Crones before me never spoke of visitors. For as long as we have been here, we have only known ourselves and no one else.”

Anissa spoke up. “The old stories tell of a great war and famine on the other side of the mountains that our ancestors ran from. Perhaps, these are other survivors?”

Tohki nodded. “Perhaps.” She looked at the gathered hunters. “Perhaps, we should ready ourselves to welcome them instead of preparing to chase them off.”

Artamos nodded. “That feels right, Tohki.”

Kuji shifted nervously, gripping his spear, holding it outwards defensively.

“Boy!” Artamos barked at him. “Enough!”

Kuji let the head of his spear drop to the dirt, nodding his head in consent.

Aaron and Artamos worked together to bring out a large wooden table and set it up in the center of the village. Everyone in the community ran about gathering offerings to lay on the table. The younger children ran down to the lake to gather flowers. Kuji and Arcas built a large fire, spitting a seasoned haunch of elk over it to cook. The apple harvest that had survived the winter was brought out and arranged on the table. A great pot was brought over to the fire and potatoes, onions, cabbages and carrots were chopped up and thrown in for a stew.

The energy of these activities felt off to Priya. She was not sure that welcoming these strangers with open arms was the right decision. Was their coming foretold in the premonition she had felt during Galia’s passage?

Retreating to Tohki’s hovel, Priya retrieved her pitchers for water. Tohki’s supply of water from the spring was running low.

On her way out the door she nearly ran into Arcas.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Sure,” Priya replied, handing him one of the pitchers.

They cut through the village center, rounding the House of Eusou. The spring ran from Priya’s secret spot to the western edge of the village on the edge of the forest.

“Why do you think after all this time strangers have come to the vale?” Arcas asked when they were out of earshot.

“I do not know,” Priya replied.

She knelt down at the edge of the spring, dipping her pitcher into the clear, cool water. A squirrel hopped from one tree to another above them and the sudden movement caused her to gasp, dropping the pitcher into the water.

Arcas touched her elbow. “Are you okay?”

“I am just nervous. That is all.”

Priya reached into the spring, retrieving the pitcher. It was heavy with water and she set it down on grass. Arcas handed his pitcher to her and she filled it as well. Her eyes kept darting to the trees, expecting these strangers to appear at any moment.

“They were high up in the mountains when Kuji spotted them,” Arcas reassured her. “The sun will be high in the sky before they arrive.”

Priya’s throat tightened and she could feel pinpricks of tears in the corners of her eyes. Hanging her head, she rested her hands in the grass, digging her fingers into the cold soil.

Run!

The sound, the voice was all around her. In her head, in her heart, crying out from the earth beneath her.

Images flashed before Priya of the vale burning. The ashy remains of everyone she knew and loved. The skeletal remains of Arcas, the bones of his hand stretched out to her; a plea for help.

The dark entity who had revealed itself to her; overpowering Eusou and The Mother.

Priya released her grip, rocking back on her heels, putting her hands over her eyes, and cried.

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Arcas put his arm around her shoulders. “Hey now. Priya, what is going on?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” Priya’s body shook with her sobs. “I think that something bad is going to happen.”

“Why?”

Priya tried to explain, but she could not. Everytime she opened her mouth to speak, her voice caught in her throat.

Arcas cupped her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. “I see you, Priya. I see you and witness you. All of you. I love you and will always be here for you to keep you safe. I will not let anything bad happen to you.”

He released her face and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Holding the hem of her shirt sleeve, Priya wiped her nose. She leaned into Arcas. “I love you too,” she whispered.

Tentatively, Priya closed her eyes and placed the open palm of her hand against the ground, awaiting the flood of images to arise again; steadying herself so that she might seek answers from Eusou and The Mother.

But no images came.

Centering herself, Priya slipped into the stillness. There was Eusou. His presence still burned inside of her. It was there, sitting, watching, and waiting with an air of anticipation. Turning her gaze inward, she found herself in the seat of her soul, sitting as Eusou was, gazing out towards the forest and the mountains that rose up around the village. Turning towards Arcas, she saw him as Eusou did: full of light and love, a golden, rose-colored aura tracing the shape of him; his eyes glowing. The village was aglow as well. As Priya watched through Eusou’s eyes, the people of the vale busied themselves, preparing to welcome these strangers into their village. Stream of light trailed off Aaron, Anissa, Gal, Kuji, Artamos, and all the others that Priya called family. Pinks and pupils, golden oranges and yellows, blues and greens. It was a pure expression of love and care and hospitality, all in the name and spirit of Eusou and The Mother.

But further up in the forest, through the trees where the forest grew thin and rocky, lines of red could be seen, arching through the air like ravens dancing, diving, and fighting.

“This is insanity,” Priya murmured. “This is insane. We are insane. Why are we opening our arms to these strangers?”

Pushing herself up, she ran back to the village, waving her arms. “Stop! Stop!” she called.

Aaron caught her by the arms. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Kuji was right,” Priya said, gasping. “We should not be welcoming these strangers. They mean us harm.”

Tohki hobbled up to Priya, pushing Aaron out of the way with her walking stick. “What do you mean, girl?”

“The dreams. The visions I have had. This is what it was showing me. If we open our village to them, the vale will burn.”

Kuji rested the butt of his spear against the ground, leaning against it. “Priya, I do not like the idea of strangers coming into our village, but I only counted a few. Maybe only seven. I do not think they could overpower a village of twenty.”

Artamos nodded. “Kuji is right. Besides, if we look like we are ready for a fight, they will fight and more than likely some of us will die. If we welcome them with the love of Eusou and The Mother, then that is what they will see, and if they did come down from the pass with anger in their hearts, perhaps that love will turn their intentions.”

Tohki took in a slow deep breath. “Artamos is right. But so is Priya. We do not know if they have love or knowledge of Eusou. We shall welcome them, but we will be on our guard. We will not let wolves in to eat our flock.”

“Thank you, Tohki,” Priya said.

Tohki motioned for Kuji to come closer. “Take Arcas, Aiden, Samuel and some others into the woods. Watch for these strangers. Signal when you see them and come back. Let us know when they are close.”

Kuji nodded. “I will, Crone.”

Arcas set down the pitchers of spring water onto the banquet table and picked up his spear.

Priya turned and looked deep into his eyes. Be safe.

Arcas nodded as if he could hear her silent plea, then followed closely behind Kuji and the other men, before disappearing into the woods.

Priya rested by the fire while the rest of the village prepared a welcoming feast for the strangers.

The sun had reached the tip of the western peaks before a call came down from the woods and Kuji, Arcas and the other hunters emerged.

“They are near!” Kuji called.

“What is their intent?” Tohki asked.

“I do not know,” Kuji replied.

Arcas stopped next to Kuji, catching his breath. “There are seven of them. Six are wearing leather and these strange shiny plates on their bodies and heads. Those have long knives strapped to their waist.” Kuji holds out his hands, showing the long length of those knives; three times bigger than the ones those in the vale carried. “They have these strange, long, thin reeds hung over their shoulders with a string hanging loose from them. But they also carried these feather-tipped branches. Straight branches with the bark shorn off. They hang off their backs in little satchels.”

“Aye,” Aiden said, chiming in. “Each has around forty of those branch things.”

“Weapons, I think,” Kuji said. “I am unsure of their purpose.”

“Who was the seventh person?” Tohki asked.

“I am unsure,” Kuji said. “He was dressed in black; long black robes. No metal. No leather on him. He carried a staff, though. And on the staff hung an image of Eusou, the hanged man.”

Tohki nodded. “They are of Eusou. See, Priya, there is nothing to fear.”

But Priya nerves were not calmed. Turning her eyes inward, she rested in Eusou’s seat, and she saw the lines of red near the edge of the forest. “They are almost here,” she whispered.

“Here! Here!” Tohki called. The villagers gathered around her. “The strangers come! Let us welcome them with open arms! Let us share with them the love of Eusou and The Mother!” Tohki began to sing and the villagers began to join in.

Listen Listen

Silence Silence

I Am I Am

Silence Silence

I Am peace

I Am the stillness

I Am the wind

I Am the waves

I Am the forest

I Am the garden

At the edge of the forest, the strangers appeared. First came the man who was dressed in black. His hair was cut short and he was clean-shaven, which made his features look even harsher with his prominent hooked nose and angular face.

In his hands he held a staff. He held it upright with both hands and carried it so that the bottom never touched the ground. On it, held forward for all to see, was a carving of the visage of Eusou with his hands bound above his head, hanging from a tree.

Behind him, in rows of two, the other six came. They had the strange reeds held in front of them. Priya could see that the string was now strung between the two ends of the reed, drawn tight. And held in place by their fingers, pointed down to the ground, were the feathered sticks.

They were armed. They were ready to kill.

And yet, Tohki and the other villagers continued to sing.

I Am the sun

I Am the light

I Am Love

I Am your love

I Am your peace

I Am your truth

I Am you

I Am your courage

I Am your strength

I know I know

I am I am