Leaving the spring, Tohki showed Priya a hidden passage between two large boulders that led back into the dense forest and didn’t require any crawling on hands and knees.

The sun was high in the sky before they reached the wider footpath that led back into the village.

“How do you hold onto the stillness with you?” Priya asked Tohki.

“It’s a balance,” Tohki began. “Right now, I am walking, but I am also connected to the stillness. To do this, I have to be mindful of every step: how my foot falls upon the earth, how the dirt feels, how the tiny rocks feel, or how the needles on the forest bed feel. We can’t be grounded in stillness if our minds are elsewhere. And we breathe. We connect our breath to our steps.”

Tohki put a finger to her lips to signal silence and stops walking for a moment. Priya stops a few feet ahead of her and turns, watching. Tohki takes a step, raising one hand from her waist to her chest, signaling an in breath. Then another step, pushing the same hand back down to her waist as she exhaled. She repeated this two more times, then beckoned Priya to follow.

Priya took a step before remembering to breathe. She paused, reminding herself of the steps. As simple as it was, once her mind was connected to this rhythm of stepping at the same time she inhaled, walking and breathing became more challenging. She tried again and again, finally finding the rhythm, but only losing it again when she congratulated herself.

“It takes practice,” Tohki said. “But once you find it, pairing the stillness with work, it can be a magical thing. When you sit with a mother giving birth, the stillness is there, relating a sense of calm for you aiding the mother and the mother aiding her babe into the world. When you are setting bones or threading a wound, the stillness is there aiding you.”

Tohki pointed towards the sky, at a large cloud beginning to move over the sun. Priya followed her finger, once again losing the rhythm of breathing and stepping.

“Imagine you’re up there, Priya, walking on that cloud. Looking down you see the other, smaller clouds in the sky, and far below you can see the trees, the other people. You are connected to everything. Looking at a tree, you see it's truck, the root system below the ground, the leaves, and the bark. You are connected to the tree in the same way you are connected to me or Anissa or Serah. Notice how the trees are moving in the wind. You are that tree. Notice how the tree feels and you’ll notice how the air feels as you move through the tree and through the branches. You are all: the tree, the air, and you. The stillness, Eusou, the I Am that is you is the connection to all things. You are here, now. You are mindful. You are whole. In the stillness, you have no fear. You have no doubt. You have no anxiety. You are you. You are connected. You are not separate from what you witness. You are the same. You are the oneness. You are one and the same thing as everything. There is no separation. You are living, awake, and aware. You are the living energy. Everything in the universe is an expression of the single and pure energy of light and love that is Eusou.

“You can sit and find the stillness. Or you can walk. All you have to do is walk. When you walk, your body, your mind and your soul can relax and settle. It is a practice, a way of life, a way of seeing that you can do anything. Just start walking. When you take your first step, then you’re on your way to finding the stillness. Let everything unfold in its own perfect order. Find the stillness. See that everything is part of you. You are the same, part of the same, connected to all, as the sun is. As the moon is. As the stars are. You are here, aware, now, this moment fully. You are not your thoughts, your feelings. Your task by following the Path of The Crone is to be present. All you have to do is be aware of yourself and by being aware of yourself, you are aware that you are a vessel for Eusou. That is all.”

“That is all,” mumbled Priya, once again finding herself in the flow of breathing and stepping. “That is all.”

“Yes,” Tohki replied. “That is all.”

“It would be easier if I picked the Path of The Mother and just had a few babes.”

Tohki laughed. “Perhaps it would be.”

“Eusou’s balls,” Priya muttered.

“That is the second time you have used that phrase this afternoon,” Tohki said. “Why do you children say these things?”

“I don’t know,” Priya replied. “We just say them because we’re children and because it’s fun to say and fun to curse things.”

“Do you think the stillness, Eusou’s essence inside you, has balls?” Tohki asked.

Priya looked at her and saw a small smile on her face. “No. I suppose not.”

“Then perhaps that is something you can leave behind.”

“What about ‘hag’s teats?’” Priya asked.

“I am a hag, by all accounts of its definition,” Tohki said. “I suppose if you are cursing someone with my teats, I should be honored.”

As they neared her house, Priya saw Aaron round the corner of the barn, carrying fresh hay for the horses.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” Priya told Tohki.

“At first light,” Tohki replied.

“But what about my chores?” Priya asked.

“I’ll see you at first light. What you do with your chores is up to you and Aaron and Anissa.”

“At first light,” agreed Priya.

Priya left Tohki behind as she ran to greet her father. Ducking through a gap in the fence, Priya waved to Aaron. Shaking the remaining straw over some fresh manure, Aaron dusted his hands off on his tunic. Opening his arms to Priya, he pulled her into a firm embrace.

“What were you and Tohki up to?” Aaron asked, waving to Tohki as she passed by on the footpath.

“Talking about last night,” Priya said. She gave Aaron a final squeeze around his middle before shrugging out of his embrace.

“Did she give you all the answers you were looking for?”

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“You say that as if I don’t have the capacity to find the answers myself,” Priya said, looking at him accusingly. “You raised your daughter to be smarter than that, didn’t you?”

“A father can only hope,” laughed Aaron.

“Has Anissa come back from Serah’s?” Priya asked.

“No,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “I don’t expect she’ll be back before the sun has dipped below the mountains.”

He gazed up at the sun and then the mountains as if to reassure himself. Turning back to Priya he studied her, holding her gaze and Priya held his willingly and not defiantly as she was most prone to do.

“You’ve changed,” said Aaron. His voice was deeper and gruffer than it was a few moments ago.

“What do you mean?” Priya inquired.

“You’re not the same Priya that left my house at nightfall yesterday.”

“I am, Papai.”

“Perhaps you are,” Aaron replied. “Perhaps last night uncovered part of you that was hidden.”

“You sound like Tohki,” Priya admonished.

“Do I?” Aaron sighed. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps I am reminded that you are getting older and wiser and I am just getting older.”

Priya wrapped her arms around Aaron, burrowing her head into his chest. She felt his arms encircle her, holding her gently in place.

“I love you, Papai,” Priya said.

“I love you, too,” Aaron whispered. “Come.” Priya thought he heard a break in his voice before he cleared his throat and continued. “Help me with the horses. They are getting content on their grain and horses. Will you take them out with me and run them?”

Priya smiled. “Oh yes!”

She followed Aaron to the side of the yard where the horses were bent over, heads buried in their wooden grain buckets. Aaron unslung the lead that dangled around their necks and led them to the fence post. Looping the leads around the post, he turned to Priya.

“Do you want a blanket to sit on?” He asked.

The last time Priya rode she had done so bareback in a skirt and had come home with her legs scratched and raw.

Priya shook her head, patting her legs, drawing Aaron’s attention to her trousers. “I am ready.”

Aaron picked her up around the waist and placed her on the back of the chestnut-colored mare. He handed the mare’s lead before mounting the other horse, a stallion that was the color of the night sky with tiny white stars that dotted his face. They rode them slowly to the gate. Aaron leaned forward, bending down and lifted the wood that barred the gate. The gate swung open and they were free.

Priya’s mare stood there silently while Aaron’s stallion snorted and tossed its head in anticipation.

“Yah!” Aaron called and kicked the stallion with his bare heels. The stallion leapt forward, sending up a cloud of dirt in its wake.

Priya matted the mare’s neck bending low. “Eusou,” she whispered into the mare’s ear. “Are you there in her as you are in me?” The mare’s ears twitched in response. Priya rested her body along the mare’s neck. She could feel the horse’s breath, breathing in low and slow. Priya matched it, letting the mare’s breath, center her in her own stillness.

“Let’s go,” Priya whispered.

The mare leapt forward, throwing Priya back on her backside, barely staying. The lead dangled towards the ground, far out of Priya’s reach. Instead Priya grasped a handful of the mare’s mane. As Priya realized this she realized as well how tightly she was holding onto those thick strands of hair.

“I’m sorry, girl,” she said as loosened her grip.

The mare’s hooves thundered in the open plains. Long plaits of green grass whisked by in their wake.

Looking up, Priya could see Aaron and the stallion in the distance. Aaron had slowed to a cantar to let her catch up. But when she did, Aaron kicked the hurts spurning him into a gallop once again. The mare’s instinct to run kicked in and Priya was off as well.

Over the hard-packed dirt the horses stretched out, manes and tails streaming behind them, shimmering and shining in the sun’s light. Hooves pounded out a steady rhythm.

Priya wanted to catch Aaron and the mare wanted to catch the stallion. The mare stretched forward and Priya leaned down, resting her body again along the mare’s neck.

“Run!” Priya urged.

On and on they raced. The tall grass faded and the lake came into view, its crystalline clear waters sparkling. Priya could see the village on the other side, smoke rising from a few rooftops. Near the opposite shore, Priya could see Arcas and Kuji along with the other younger hunters splashing in the water.

“Mother’s mercy,” she swore under her breath. She was too far to catch a glimpse of Kuji without his shirt, but she had taken the Path of The Crone and he didn’t like women and— “Yah!” Priya yelled, urging the mare onward, slowly closing the gap on Aaron.

Glancing back, she saw the hunters waving towards her and Aaron, whooping and hollering them on, faster and faster.

The mare was soon close enough to the stallion that she could have nipped him in the rear. Then they were neck and neck for a moment before Priya and the mare edged forward further, taking the lead.

And then it was over.

Aaron pulled up on his lead, slowing the stallion, turning his head towards the lake. Priya followed.

When they reached the water’s edge, Aaron hopped to ground, releasing the lead completely. Priya turned in her seat, swinging around so that both legs dangled off the same side of the mare, and slid the rest of the way to the ground. Throwing her arms into the air she whooped in celebration and heard the reply call from the hunters on the other side.

Reaching into her satchel, Priya removed the piece of bread she had stored earlier. Breaking it in half, she offered a piece to Aaron. They ate in silence, watching the water lap the shore, listening to the wind move through the grass.

“What was your passage like, Papai?” Priya asked as she chewed on her final bit of bread. She went over to the mare, letting her grab with her lips the crumbs that clung to Priya’s hand.

“It was different from yours,” Aaron replied. “I didn’t sit in our sacred space. As you know, for the passage of men, they take us deep into the woods, nearly to the base of the mountains. And instead of drinking the tea, we are given special mushrooms that Tohki collects. We eat them and then are left alone in the forest to spend the night wrestling with our demons. For two more nights we do this. The men return with fresh water and more mushrooms. We eat and are left alone and we wrestle.”

“What was your demon?” Priya asked.

“It is always ourselves that each man wrestles with. Our nature. Our desire for power.”

“How do you win?”

“We die. We die for three nights; for three long nights.”

Aaron is quiet and Priya lets him be.

When he finally speaks, he whispers, “The desire for power is a powerful poison. Even now after all those years, I can still feel, at the edge of my mind, this notion of power and how I can take it. It could be as simple as burning the animals’ manure instead of giving it to our neighbors for their gardens. Or I could ask for more in trade when I plow their fields. Power is a fire and if you feed it, it will grow larger. These small, minor showings of power would get bigger and soon it would raze our village to the ground and there will be nothing less.”

Looking towards the distant ridgeline on the other side of the village, Aaron points between two of the peaks. “One of the stories we tell ourselves, about our ancestors, is that they came through that pass and into this vale to escape a power that had grown too big and was devouring everything in its path like the monsters of old.”

“I had a vision of Terra burning,” Priya said, softly.

The words hung between them.

“Sometimes,” Aaron began, slowly, “I worry that the old powers will come back and our village will burn.”

He walked to the stallion and picked up its lead.

“Come, let's walk back. Your mother will be home soon.”

Picking up the mare’s lead, Priya followed closely behind.