The winter months were long and cold. The days were shorter and the nights longer, but together, as a community, the people of the vale thrived.

The stores from their harvest held. There was an abundance of vegetables to cook and eat. The meat that the hunters dried kept them fed during the long stretches where no elk or longhorn sheep could be found.

When the water of the lake finally froze over, several children along with those that had just gone through their passage, Priya included, stepped out onto it, running and gliding as far as they could in their boots. They would crash into each other—”Gently,” Priya warned—falling down, their high-pitched laughter bouncing off the nearby mountains. The cold wind whipped at their faces, turning their cheeks red, stealing the moisture from their lips. As they chattered and teased, whisps of their breath hung about them like clouds.

Soon after they returned to their homes after these little adventures, Priya would walk the footpath, knocking on doors, and dropping off little gifts from her and Tohki: small jars of beeswax and herbs to aid with chapped skin. She would also check on their stock of winter remedies, leaving behind more tea bags or chest rubs as needed.

Day after day, Priya grew in her knowledge of herbs. Tohki would rattle off symptoms and just as fast Priya could list what herbs she would steep for a tincture or mix with beeswax. While her knowledge grew, there weren't many opportunities to put the knowledge into practice.

“Patience, child,” Tohki would admonish. “You shouldn’t hope for someone to get hurt or get sick just to feed your sense of self.”

Priya nodded. “I know. But wouldn’t it be fun?”

On the longest night of winter, news passed through the village that Galia had her first blood. Priya ran from her farm to Tohki’s hovel, excited to put her knowledge to work for her friend. Tohki watched her as Priya moved about, selecting with a careful hand several herbs that would lessen Galia’s discomfort when drunk as a tea, as well as the root of the black cohosh plant that could be chewed on. Tohki gave her several clean folded rags to take to her as well.

Priya trudged through the snow to the butcher’s house with her basket of supplies hooked under her arm.

Stamping her feet on their front step, Priya knocked off some of the snow that clung to her boots. Raising a mittened fist, she hammered on the door.

Arcas opened it, ushering her in. “I was wondering when you were going to come.”

Priya gently elbowed him in the stomach for teasing her. Taking off her mittens, she waved at Artamos, the butcher, who was turning a sizzling haunch over their fire.

“I wish people made as big of a deal when I got my first hair on my chin,” Arcas muttered.

“When you got your first hair, did that symbolize that you were ready to bear children?”

Arcas barked a laugh. “Fair enough.”

“Priya?” Galia called from behind the curtain of her bedroom.

“Aye. I am here.”

Priya undid the ties of her boots and stepped out of them, setting them by the door. Arcas took her cloak and hung it on a hook.

Pulling back the curtain, she found a smiling Galia with her mother, Gal, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“How are you doing?” Priya asked.

Galia sighed. “Well enough.”

Priya sat on the bed next to Gal, setting her basket in her lap. “I brought you some things from Tohki.”

“Well, aren’t you playing The Crone these days,” teased Galia.

Priya ignored the jest. “I made you a bag of herbs that you can use for a tea.”

“Wonderful,” Gal said, taking the bag. “I’ll heat up some water.”

“Just a spoonful in a cup,” Priya called after her. “No more than that.”

Galia reached over and grabbed the folded rags from the basket. “Thank you for these.”

“You’re most welcome.” Priya handed her the cut up pieces of blackened root. “These are for you to chew on should the cramps get to be too much.”

Galia made a face. “What does it taste like?”

“Like a root. A little bit like dirt. But it helps.”

Galia pulled out a small piece, breaking off a bit, and put it in her mouth. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the taste.

“How does it feel?” Priya asked.

Galia sighed. “You know how it feels. Awful.”

“No, not that,” Priya said. “How does it feel to be, you know, a woman?”

Her friend is quiet for a moment before speaking. “I am happy. But I am not happy that I am finally a woman. Since your passage all those months back, I didn’t feel like our friendship was the same. We have hardly been with each other since then.”

“I have been busy with Tohki.”

“I know, but it's not that. There are times where we will pass each other on the path and you would hardly even look at me. I thought I had lost you as a friend.”

“I’m sorry, Galia.”

“I am happy to have my first blood because I hope we can be friends again. Like we were.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Priya leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Galia. “I am sorry you felt that my love for you was any less than it was. After my passage, I didn’t think any less of you. You were always dear to me. Things became busy studying under Tohki; she was all I had time for. I love you, Galia. You are my dearest friend and you always will be.”

“I love you, as well, Priya. I am excited and nervous for my passage.”

“My stomach fluttered the day before and the day of. I will be there to help guide and aid you.”

Gal returned, carrying a steaming cup of tea.

Galia took the cup, blowing on it to cool it a bit before putting it to her lips and sipping. “Thank you for this.”

Turning to Priya, Gal asked, “Would you stay and share food with us?”

Priya shook her head. “Not tonight. Aaron and Anissa are waiting for me to return.”

“Can I walk with you?” Arcas asked.

Priya nodded.

Hugging her friend, Priya slipped out into the night with Arcas walking beside her. He shivered in the cold night air, his hands tucked into his cloak. They walked slowly, not saying a word, gazing up at the clear sky. The moon, reflecting off the snow, lit the village with a blue glow.

When they left the village and were on the footpath back to Priya’s farm, Arcas stopped. Priya stopped as well, unsure if this was as far as he was planning to walk her or if he had something to say. Arcas stamped his feet in the snow. His head hung low, avoiding Priya’s questioning eyes. Lifting his head, he let out a long and mournful howl, his hands cupped around his mouth. The dogs in the village answered his call, howling and barking. Wolves, further away, on the far side of the vale, answered as well.

“What is it, Arcas?” Priya asked. “I would rather be walking to stay warm than stand here and let the cold seep into my bones.”

Arcas looks at her, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

“Arcas, whatever you want to say, you can say it and I will keep it secret and safe. I swear it on The Mother.”

Turning away, Arcas looks out at the lake. “Sometimes, when I am out with Kuji and the other hunters.” He trails off and begins again. “Sometimes, I think, ‘Oh, what if I trip here on this root or rock and catapult myself into that tree, spearing myself through and die today.’ Sometimes, when I am helping Artamos prepare meat for the fire, I imagine myself taking the knife and sliding it across my throat. There are other times that I hope Kuji might mistake me for an elk or deer. Or I could take a rope and hang myself from a tree.”

Priya steps behind him and places her hand on his back.

“I want to die, Priya. I want to die and it scares me, but I can’t see past that darkness. It is always there, these thoughts.”

“Why do you want to die, Arcas?”

“Because there is nothing here for me. Every day is the same. I hunt, I kill when I am lucky enough to find a wild animal, I eat, and I sleep. I feel alone. I know I have the other hunters and I have Galia, but I feel so alone.”

“You have me,” whispered Priya.

“No. No I don’t.” Arcas turned to face her, his eyes wide with anger. “You chose to be a Crone. I can never have you.”

Priya’s eyes flashed in the moonlight. “Whether or not I chose the Path of The Crone, I was never yours or anyone else’s.”

Arcas sighed. “That’s not what I was saying. I know that you would have had a choice, but I would have done everything I could have to make you think I was the right partner for you. There’s no other girls near my age in this village. Thekla and Ami won’t become women for years. I want to be a good partner and a good father, but I can’t. There is nothing here for me, Priya. Nothing. And I can’t see myself continuing this way forever. Sometimes, I wonder if the vale would be better off without me.”

“What about Galia?”

“Galia is a woman now and will find a partner in a few years. Probably Josif’s oldest boys, Aiden or Samuel.”

Priya pointed at the night sky. “The night is long, but the sun is coming and the days will get longer.”

Arcas chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You sound like Tohki.”

“Aye. She taught me well. But this is the way of things. Just as winter must come before the spring, sometimes we have to make the journey through the dark night to find the light on the other side. When you undertook your passage, it was like a dark, long night, yes?”

Arcas nodded. “It was.”

“And what did you feel during it?”

“That I wasn’t alone. That I was part of Eusou and Eusou was part of me.”

“Close your eyes.”

Arcas did and Priya stepped towards him, slipping her hand underneath his cloak and placing it over his heart. He trembled at her touch, leaning down and resting his chin on her head, breathing in her scent.

“Look inward, Arcas. Feel your heartbeat. Follow your breath. Do you remember what it felt like to be connected to Eusou?” Arcas nodded. “That never went away. He is still there. He lives as you live. He breathes and you breathe. He loves as you love.”

And she began to sing, her soft voice cutting through the tranquil night.

I give life to Eusou in the Heights

And to The Mother, our love

I give life to all beings

And to you my brothers and sisters

I ask Eusou in the Heights

For his help to illuminate me

For his help to see the path

And deliver me from darkness

Priya stepped away from Arcas, taking his hand in hers. “You aren’t alone, Arcas. And you never will be.”

“Saying it does not take away how lonely I feel, Priya.”

“I know. There isn’t much I can do for you tonight, but come by Tohki’s in the morning.” Priya opened her satchel and rooted around, pulling out bundles of herbs until she found what she was looking for. “Here,” she said, handing Arcas a small collection of stringy, dried roots and dried purple flowers.

“Do you just have these things with you all the time? You’re turning into Tohki before my very eyes.” Arcas held the bundle up to the moonlight, squinting at it. “What is this?”

“It’ll help you sleep tonight and ward off any bad dreams.”

Arcas held the bundle to his nose, sniffing. “Eusou’s balls! And I am supposed to eat this?”

“Grind up one of the roots and one of the flowers and mix it with some hot water.”

“If you say so.” Arcas tucked his hands back inside his cloak, looking back towards his house in the village. “I should go. Thank you, Priya.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. At least, not tonight.”

“If you kill yourself, I will never forgive you.”

Arcas laughed. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Remember that feeling from your passage, Arcas. It will help carry you through the night.”

Arcas turned to walk back to his house, offering her a small wave.

Priya watched him go, a small sadness nesting in her chest.

She could see the candlelight dancing through the windows of her house and her stomach grumbled at the thought of a nice, warm dinner.

Priya began to walk, singing to herself:

I ask, I ask

I ask Holy Eusou

To send me his Holy Light

To illuminate my path.

I ask, I ask

I ask The Mother

To illuminate my path

On the path of Love