“A Rubus you say.” He scowls with doubt through rising steam from a wooden bowl, its contents a milky blue liquid. The Voice lounges in his raised throne of furs, literally and figuratively looking down on myself, Piia and Yadon. The Thorns had been dismissed from his sanctuary so that recent events could be discussed in private.

“Yes, these are the remains of the hunter’s trap that I removed. The suffering animal won’t be crying in pain and keeping the children awake.” I smile in victory.

“Are you confident this was the monster Mother sent you to slay?”

“I heard its distinctive cry up close, I have no doubt.”

“So you chose not to end the beast’s suffering, only prolong its miserable life. The wounds you mentioned in your tale will fester and rot in the humidity of this climate. You have failed your trial to prove yourself our Shepherd.” He smirks at his argument.

“Then why did you just call for me outside with my title?”

He casts his aromatic drink across the blanketed floor in a flash of rage, staining the furs blue.

“I put these criminals in the hole to teach them a lesson, they specifically went against my own orda to attempt to assist you. Then you slither out of the bush and release them with the guile of authority. You would undermine me in my tribe and orda my warriors around. I was outraged at the discovery.” The Voice snaps the words out, his wrinkly furry skin now glistening with sweat.

“Then why call me the Shepherd, you screamed it at the top of your lungs for the whole village to hear.” I rebuttal his petty grasp for power.

The Voice turns over his walking stick that is resting across his lap, picking out bits of mould growing in the nobbled roots.

“Truth is, I forgot your name. In the heat of the moment, people will yell out anything.”

“It’s Seth.” Piia and Yadon snap simultaneously.

“Yes yes, it’s not important now.”

“It doesn’t matter, I have completed Mother’s trial. Why are you still dismissing my claim as the Shepherd?” I am flabbergasted by this Satyr’s desperation to hold his leadership position when he alone predicted my coming and eventual ascension.

The old Satyr looks over our heads, I see the reflection of the green column of bioluminescence reflected in his eyes. A small crease in his forward is quickly smothered by his grandfatherly smile, like using fresh paint to cover rotten wood.

“I am protecting my people, I have said it before and repeating myself will only bring about headaches. Seth, these trials were set out by our great Goddess herself. To test every aspect of your character and Will. Are you so arrogant as to assume you can complete them in one measly day?” His dull emerald eyes bore into me, watching the twitches of my face as his words cemented.

“Trials?” Piia discovers the fire to his smoke before me.

“Exactly.”

“You never mentioned multiple trials.” I claim.

“Of course I did, I am the Voice of Mother. I speak her words without falter or mistake and she demands more from you.”

I share a look with my companions, doubt plastered across the party. How can we debate his word when we have nothing to go on, only our faith in me.

“Both of you, leave. You can finish your punishment by aiding the outer patrols, if Seth is wrong about his banishment of the howling beast. You will be the first to offer your bodies in defence of our tribe.” He dismisses them with a careless wave, the venom in his tone noted and fueling our collective resentment towards him.

Masked Thorns bustle through the flap, they crowd the room as a mustered army, so the Voice was ready for a worst case scenario in this conversation.

“Boy” - He points at Yadon - “Return your issued armour and uniform to the Thorns, you will no longer be one of their ranks.” The guards push them out of the sanctuary, Yadon looks confused as he touches his Ferrum plate armour.

“I am no Thorn, I earnt this armour through fair trade.” He snorts out, subtle anguish showing in his eyes at being compared to the Voice’s petty soldiers.

“With that attitude, you never will be, the armour will be an acceptable donation to the tribe’s true warriors for your penance.” He quips back, enjoying Yadon's defeated look.

Piia rubs his shoulder reassuringly and whispers in his ear as they exit through the fern flaps.

“Tell me Seth, what settlement do you hail from, Yorkton? Ovatown?.” I look away from my friend's departure to find the Voice now sitting up straight on his makeshift throne, no longer hunched or grandfatherly.

“Neither, it’s called England and very far away from here.”

“One of the edge cities then. A run away no doubt, I see it in your eyes. You're lost, scrambling to find a path to glorious riches, dreaming in the moonlight of becoming renowned. Now you find a crumb in the depths of Silva and follow its trail.” He says the words coldly with little emotion.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I am lost, that much is true, but he’s spitting out nonsense. Profiling me as a human that is outside their systems of society and assuming I am only thinking of myself. The prejudice against Man is unfortunately accurate for the humans of this world, I just need him to see that I am different, without revealing the reality of my situation.

“It is not like that at all. I only…”

“I know what you want. You’re a young boy, only a fledgling amongst your kind, a fawn that was literally put out to pastures as a Shepherd for your House or Guilds gain. But you want to be a legend, a hero to conquer monsters and wield treasures, you scoff at servantry.

Did you hear your master's hounds, baying at your scent as you escaped England?”

“Listen to me. My home isn’t like that. We have no masters or guilds. We live in cities of equality. Working in industries that service the population or build the economy.” A white lie with mostly truth in my words. No need to preach about economic classes or the weak husk that remains of democracy, I am trying to support my claim of a more righteous land.

“Lies!” He screams.

“All lies, the days of old are dead. Ashes in the wake of champions and heroes. No society lives like this. I was born in those times, my Satyr tribe were traders to these prosperous hubs of industry you speak of. I grew as the mortar crumbled and the waters were stained with disease. It's over, a fairytale.”

“Not where I’m from. The hunters I’ve met and the stories of humans on this side of the world are worse than the monsters. I understand the malice and loathing you hold towards them, but I am not the same. I believe my purpose is to help this tribe, it is why I think Mother was watching me during the trial.”

“You saw her?” He whispers while leaning forward.

“I know it was Mother, she appeared as a large floating head made of her aura and lights.” My presumption is based on her appearance and also a feeling that passed over me at the sighting. The Voice’s eyes glance again to the chimney of ascending green motes from the central sanctum, and then out the teepees door towards the village.

“Who else knows of this ‘sighting’? He rolls the word off his tongue with distaste.

“I told my companions and all the Thorns at the pit about it.” A savvy thought leaps into my mind before I add. “And to several tribesmen that I saw as I entered the village.” The political scheming is necessary since the Voice plays the game at every opportunity. Spreading news of my vision will support my claim as her chosen.

“Wonderful, that is wonderful, wonderful to hear.” He grins with furious eyes.

“I am glad you think so.”

“Alas these conversations are a delight, but draining on my old soul. I never congratulated you on the success of your first trial and would recommend devoting your energy to your little runs and climbing exercises.” So he has me watched, the timing of his previous announcement wasn’t a coincidence, but a plan to catch me out while I was severely injured.

“How can I prove my faith to Mother and you? What do you need me to do to gain your trust?” I feel like every conversation with this Satyr is like swimming against a riptide, resistance is futile so I should flow with his whims and hope I don’t end up in deep water.

“It’s simple, complete her trials.” He says with the ease of not caring about the outcome.

He beckons for the guards, as if I need an escort to guide me to the door.

“I will talk with Mother soon, her challenges demand absolute commitment Seth. No loopholes.” He says with a dismissing flick of the wrist. I hold my tongue, wanting to kiss my teeth at his statement. I have to show some respect, even the bare minimum, otherwise my friends may sleep in the pit tonight.

Piia is waiting for me outside, she smiles with delight and engulfs me in a hug.

“Oh Mother, are you hurt?” She pushes me back to inspect me.

“Surprisingly not this time, Cane took most of the hits.” I say with evident sadness.

“Let us go see him and you can inform me of your time with that rat bastard.” She thumbs over her shoulder to the Voice’s sanctuary as we make our way towards the river.

Her good humour lifts my mood, even with the guilt of Cane’s wounds and dealing with the tribe’s petty leader.

“He just doesn’t trust me, it’s like anything I say or do is Guardian dung to him. I keep assuming it’s because I’m human, but then I remember that he prophesied that the Shepherd would be a man. Maybe he can’t shake his hatred of my kind.”

“I believe he fears losing his self-commissioned throne and the perks that follow.”

“Or we are both wrong and he is being cautious for the safety of the tribe. The Shepherd is supposed to lead them to new lands. That could go wrong in hundreds of ways.”

“He needs to have faith and soon. Daemon armies or hunters are closing in every new sun. These trials are a waste of time. Thank you for the rescue.” She says with delight.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to let you sleep in a hole with those shorthorns lording over you. How did you even end up there?”

“I lashed out at a few Thorns, with one of their spears. It was silly of me and I have prayed to Mother for her forgiveness.”

“I appreciate the support, but you could have gotten killed or ended up in that pit forever if something happened to me during the trial.”

“I am angry Seth, it burns inside of me like a smouldering log. When I saw you limping out of the village with their weapons pointed at your back, it all erupted into a blazing rage. I would have stabbed one of them if Yadon had not stepped in.”

“I understand your frustration, it feels like we are climbing an icy tree, slipping off every branch that should be giving us purchase. I will have to repay Yadon for his armour, how is he doing?”

“Frustrated, we all are. This kind of abuse is not a new tale. The Thorns are nothing but the Voice’s hand, used to squeeze and pressure without the option to say no.”

We arrive at the river bank, a small cluster of tribesmen are finishing the last layer of bark wrap on Cane’s side making him resemble a fallen tree.

“It's a shame but I think you are right, they could be used for more than exerting the Voice’s demands.”

“Speaking of the Omnia.”

Four Thorns swiftly march towards us, led by the Captain I had engaged with by the pit.

“Oh Captain my Captain, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Maskless, he puzzles at my greeting. I wink at Piia who equally enjoys his blustering loss for words.

Ignoring me, he turns to Piia “You are to join us on the night patrol.” The Captain bellows out unnecessarily loud.

“An evening stroll sounds lovely, thank you for the invite.” I chime in.

“Not you human, we leave at once.” He turns and strides away, leaving two skinny Thorns to wait for Piia.

“I must complete my punishment Seth, it will be fine.” She hugs me goodbye, A gnawing feeling of our separation begins to eat away at me.

“I Know.” - I direct my words to the remaining guards and point towards Cane - “If things don’t go smoothly that giant hippo will rutting eat anyone involved. Understood?” They slowly nod a reply and the three of them follow after the Captain.

“Seth, we have a surprise for you tomorrow.” Piia shouts back.

“Looking forward to it.” I wave her off, I hope it’s something nice and relaxing.