The sun was past the eastern peaks and high in the sky by the time Priya opened her eyes the following morning.
It had taken a long time before she had fallen asleep. Her mind, in the stillness of her room, was racing while the rest of the household slept. Priya kept turning the visions she had received and the voices she had heard over and over in her mind, trying to extract some sense of meaning to her experience.
Rubbing the grit from her eyes, Priya stretched in her bed like a cat; arms over her head, reaching as far as they could while her feet and toes arched.
Sitting up, she began to straighten her hair, brushing it through with her fingers. Finding a small piece of leather, she bound all the strands together at the base of her neck and tied them off.
Gradually, Priya became aware of Anissa and Serah talking. Their voices were low, barely above a whisper. Leaning over the edge of her bed, she put her ear to the curtain that divided her room from the rest of the house, trying to hear them a bit clearer.
“There is no point in our continued speculation,” Priya heard Anissa say. “It is peculiar, but it is not our role to assign meaning to something we do not understand.”
“Yes,” Serah replied, “but it is unusual and rare, is it not?”
“No woman in recent memory had visions like what Priya described.”
Priya pulled the curtain back. “I thought all women went through what I went through.”
Anissa looked up from her seat at the table and sighed. “I thought you were still asleep.”
“I just woke up,” Priya responded.
“How long were you listening?” Anissa asked.
“Not long.” Priya fidgeted with her hair, pulling a piece of hair out of the tie and twisting it around her finger. “Mother—” she stopped to correct herself. “Anissa, did you see any visions during your passage?”
“It is not for us to discuss,” Anissa admonished.
“Please,” Priya pleaded. “Just tell me.”
Anissa took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, folding her hands into her lap. “No. I saw strange geometric shapes across my visual field—”
“I saw those too,” Priya interrupted.
“—and,” Anissa continued, “I felt a presence there. Two presences really. One manifested itself as a powerful force that surrounded me. It felt like diving underwater and swimming to the depths of the lake. It was powerful and overwhelming. And then there was this other presence: a loving, mother-like being.”
“I felt the same,” Serah whispered.
“But did you see them?” Priya asked. “Did you see Eusou and The Mother?”
“No,” Anissa replied.
Priya looked at Serah who shook her head.
Standing up from the table, Anissa went over to the fire, ladling steaming water into a cup. Returning to the table, she opened a box of dried herbs and flowers, and sprinkled it into the cup, before handing it to Priya.
Priya gazed at the tea, watching the flowers and bits of herbs soak in the hot water and sink to the bottom of the cup.
“How were your dreams?” Anissa asked.
Priya smiled, laughing lightly. “There were moments last night I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or awake or dreaming while awake or awake while I dreamed.”
“That is the way of it,” Anissa replied. “Anytime any of us go through our passage, the night is restless.”
“Did your dreams provide any answers?” Serah asked.
“Maybe,” Priya responded. “It’s still very confusing. Made even more confusing after hearing that you two and others hadn’t had similar experiences.”
“I am sorry you heard that,” Anissa offered. “It is not our role to speculate, but it is easy to.”
“It was my fault,” Serah said. “What you said stayed with me last night. I want to know why and what it means as much as you do.”
Anissa reached out her hand and rested it on Priya’s. “This is part of the journey. Today is your day to do with what you will. Aaron has fed the animals and milked the heifers. Your chores are not waiting for you. Take the time you need, but come home before dark.”
“Thank you, Anissa,” Priya said, sipping from her cup. The tea was still hot, but the smell and taste were cool and soothing.
“Do you remember why the women of our village have walked the passage you walked last night?” Anissa asked.
“To mark the year of their first blood,” Priya replied.
“Yes, that is part of it. The deeper meaning isn’t revealed until after the passage, because, in part, the passage itself reveals it. Do you remember the stories we told you when you were little about Eusou and The Mother?”
“Yes, I do.”
“From when we are nothing but little babes to now, we grow through many more changes than receiving our first blood. Our bodies and minds change and grow and with it our conscious and unconscious bodies and minds change and grow. Those stories are told to help us understand that there is something greater outside of us. We tell stories, we sing hymns, we offer prayers as a community because through a certain growth stage, we believe, and have to feed that belief, that there is something superior to us—something superior in nature—that can protect us and aid us if approached correctly. And these stories are told in a very literal sense. As children we are told that Eliya was raised up and placed in the stars by Eusou, that Tzuri'el was nine hundred years old when he was born, and that Musa led our people across the great sea at the dawn of the first sun. And these stories are offered without much in the way of proof. We are told to believe in them, but there isn’t any concrete proof that the stories are true. But we are told to believe in them because of the lessons these stories give us.
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“Eliya gives us hope in Eusou recognizing our works and hearing our prayers and raising us up to the stars when we die.
“We tell the story of Tzuri'el the way we do, because we believe that if we share the love of Eusou with others, we will live on in the hearts and minds of others when we die.
“The story of Musa is there so that we know that we are children of Eusou, just as he was thousands and thousands of years ago. It is important to know where we came from, so that we can learn from our ancestors and not repeat their same mistakes.
“But as we grow and change, we begin to ask ourselves, ‘How did Musa walk across the great sea? Wouldn’t he sink?’ Or ‘How do we know those stars are Eliya? Did our ancestors look at the stars one day and call a grouping of starts Eliya and created his myth?’”
“Or,” Priya said, jumping in. “Did Eusou and The Mother really create the world?”
“Did Eusou really hang himself upside down to gain the knowledge of how to create the world?” Serah added.
“Exactly,” Anissa said, nodding her head. “Our growing rational mind begins to overpower our childlike mind that has been stuck in a magical and mythical mindset for years. They war with each other, trying to find and answer, and sometimes finding none. Some will stop believing in Eusou altogether when their rational minds can’t make balance out the notion of an unseen Creator and creation growing and flourishing all around them. That is why we do the passage: to peek behind the curtain and feel that Eusou and The Mother are real. That way, we can pass that knowledge down so that Eusou and The Mother aren’t forgotten.
“In the distant Caves of Ishua some of the oldest images of Eusou and The Mother are painted onto the walls. Tohki believes that those ancestors that lived in the caves, hiding from the beasts that preyed upon them, were the first to drink the holy drink, as you did last night.”
Anissa paused, rubbing her temples and smoothing her hair behind her ears. “But these are lessons intended to be passed down to you over the months and years that you are part of this village’s women’s circle.”
“Yes, Anissa,” Priya said, sipping at her tea. She ran her tongue over her teeth, removing the bits of herbs and flowers that stuck there.
There was so much she wanted to know. Her mind was filled to the bursting point with questions after questions. But patience was required. She had heard the same from Tohki and now Anissa, and Serah was in agreement with all of it, nodding along with every word.
Priya couldn't count on her hands the times Anissa had encouraged patience. Patience wasn’t a trait she carried well. When it was time for the Harvest Moon, Priya would ask her mother every day how many more days until the festival and she would be admonished with a “Be patient, darling.” When her mother baked bread or cakes, Priya would stand by the fire waiting for them to finish. While cooling, Priya would burn the tips of her fingers trying to steal morsels. Even after Serah had her first blood, Priya was excited for her own, driving herself mad with the desire to be a woman. “Patience, Priya.”
“Are you hungry?” Serah asked.
Priya nodded.
Serah left the table and returned with a thick wooden board that was heavy with fresh bread, butter, and honey. Cutting off a piece, Serah slathered it with butter and drizzled a zigzagging line of honey across it. Handing it to Priya, Serah licked errant drops of honey from her fingers.
Biting into it, Priya realized just how hungry she was. The bread was moist and the creaminess of the butter was just right with the sweetness of honey.
It was quiet except for Priya’s chewing and the curtain of the north window moving in the breeze from outside.
In between bites, Priya mumbled, “So, what do I do?”
“You think on what you saw,” Anissa replied. “You think about the messages you received and look for what lies between the words or the hidden depths of your visions. Tohki will be there to guide you. But you also have to start thinking about the future you want. After today, you will need to leave behind girlish things.”
“Like what?” Priya asked.
“I don’t know, Priya. I think you’ll find some things as you go forward in life. Things that don’t hold the same meaning for you.”
“I started to braid my hair,” Serah said, chiming in. “I used to wear it down or pull it back like you, but one day I decided that if I was a woman, I would start to braid my hair. And it was so much nicer after that. It would stay out of my mouth when I ate and the wind wouldn’t tussle it about.”
Priya reached behind her and pulled at her hair, fiddling with the tie that bound it.
“It starts with little things,” Anissa added. “And then those little things become bigger. it won’t change who you are, though. You’ll always be my little Priya. But you also need to decide what path you want to take in the village. You can choose the Path of The Mother, find a partner like Serah, and bare the next generation of children that will keep and care for the land. But you can also choose the Path of The Maiden and that path has many branches. The Maiden’s role is to care for the village, like Asa does with her blacksmithing. You could be a warrior maiden and train to protect our village with sword and axe and bow. It is a path, though that forbids children whether you are barren or not.”
“And then there is The Crone,” Priya whispered.
“Aye,” Anissa said, “The Crone. It is the path Tohki took. It is the least desirable, but the most worthy path. To take the Path of The Crone, you learn about healing, you gather stories and pass down knowledge to the next generation.”
“Why did you chose the Path of The Mother?” Priya asked Serah.
Serah giggled, her cheeks turning a bright red. “Because I saw Zachael out in the field with his shirt off and I knew that I wanted to make babes with him.”
Priya blushed as well.
Serah stood, walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, looking outside at the sun. “I must leave, sadly. I need to go back to Zachael—” she giggled, putting her hand over her mouth to stop herself “—so that I can keep practicing the Path of The Mother.”
“Oh stop,” Anissa admonished, throwing a crumb of bread at her.
Serah’s giggle turned into a laugh and Priya found herself joining in, but soon the laughter turned to goodbyes.
Priya hugged her cousin fiercely. “When will I see you?”
“Soon enough,” Serah replied. “You can visit anytime you would like. It is only a few hours walk.”
“I will. I promise.” Priya gave her one more squeeze around her middle.
“Would you like me to walk with you?” Anissa offered.
“I would love the company,” Serah responded.
“Can I come?” Priya asked.
“No,” Anissa said, opening the door. “You have work to do.” While her words were serious, she offered a wink and a smile and Priya grinned back.
Priya watched as Anissa and Serah left, walking up the path that would lead through the village and eventually to Zachael’s farm. Closing the door behind her, Priya went to her bed, drawing the curtain shut.
Pulling the white shift over her head, Priya stood there naked, looking down at her body. What was this body? Was it pretty? Tohki had said she was beautiful, but was that a compliment from someone who was old and wrinkled and possibly hadn’t seen better days?
Was this the body of a Maiden? Priya lifted her arm and bent it at the elbow, flexing what muscles she had. Asa’s arms were built to wield a hammer. She was short and thicker than most women, but it hid a strength that could bend metal into tools for farming or for defense.
Was this the body of a Mother? Were there any boys in the village that she thought would make a good partner or father? They were all annoying and gross and loud. Would she be a good mother?
Patience, Priya, patience, she reminded herself.
Perhaps that was an aspect of her life as a child she could leave behind.
She slipped on a pair of brown trousers and pulled a light blue tunic over her head. It hung loose past her waist, but she pulled it tight to her figure with a leather strap.
Leaving her room, Priya returned to the table and picked up the remaining bread. She wrapped it in a cloth and stuffed it in a satchel. Slinging it over her head and across her shoulder.
Opening the door to her home, Priya looked out, away from the village, towards the woods and what lay beyond.
She had a lot to think on and knew of the perfect spot for some introspection.