Tuya woke before the first rays of light found their way through the hole where the stream flowed into the ocean. She remembered good sleep, back when Yaha trained her to exhaustion before declaring her a spear. Tuya hoped that she proved as elusive as good sleep when she fled the Hollows.
Her body was sore in every place she imagined could be sore and in too many areas she never anticipated hurting. Her stomach seemed determined to squeeze itself, like it was not sure if it should send its contents back up or violently onward. Whichever way they would go, right now it felt like the hands of a giant squeezed her gut, clamping it shut so that nothing could move along or return from whence it came. Tuya’s stupid body wanted to be a slug when her mind wanted it to be like the slithering snake. She slithered out from under Yaha’s arm, and that was the end of her valiant effort.
Everything hurt. Her chest was so tender that the rub of her furs made her contemplate going about the cavern without any coverings. The only problem with that brilliant plan was that she needed to muster the energy to undress and it was easier to throw her arms up in metaphorical defeat than to literally lift them.
Tuya limped to the edge of the stream, knowing at least one thing that would help her feel even a little less discomfort. She squatted, her legs, heavy things shaking like saplings in the wind, and lifted the bottom of her furs.
Red. Red, matted in the hairs. Red, coated down the sides of her legs. Red, flowing with her old water. Red, the most emotional color there was. Red, harbinger of fear that loomed over tomorrow’s horizon for the sixteen years Tuya lived with nightmares of this day. Red, still a surprise after seasons of anticipation, years of delay. Red, disgust that she could not control what her body did or how uncomfortable and unsightly this red. Red, calling down the anger of what the tamers had done, what they would try to do, what she would not allow today, making the world ever more red. Red, herald of hope and answered prayers, of the dream of flying away to the faraway lands and finding the place where she belonged. Red, the farewells to everything she knew, to everyone she loved, to the life she knew, and, despite it all, especially these last few seasons, was able to cherish. Most of all, red was the color of her sadness. Even if her tears bled colorless in the dark beneath the Hollows, they were red.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Too much red. Wiping at her eyes, she slipped into the stream, trying to wash away all the red. As she did in the big moments of her life, she thought back to Zaya, trying to remember the exact sound of her voice, the sight of her hair flowing down her gargantuan frame into little hands. Instead of a clear image, a pristine sound, Zaya was distorted by the passing of seasons. Everything changed and sometimes it felt impossible to keep up with it all, and for several moments, Tuya craved for the few drops of love in the sea of misery that was her early years.
Still, even though things changed, some things were remembered, preserved as girl became woman. If not the sound of a mother’s voice, the way it felt when she helped you breath through the panic, when she made your pain smaller when you were sad, when she nourished your hope. That never went away, no matter how many seasons stood between them, or however much distance, or even if Zaya already returned to Celegana, becoming one with the ground. This world of red could not take that away from her, nor could any tamer, or even the most unstoppable force of all, time.
Tuya made this world just a little better, inhaling, closing her eyes, counting her breath, exhaling, slowly ridding herself of thoughts that would not help her today, of feelings that, even though they belonged, would stand in her path on this defining day of her life. Zaya was here with her again, just as if she never left at all, and with her the promise.
I will fly away, mother, but I will grow strong enough to free you and everyone who is tamed. I promise. Tuya kept her eyes closed, seeing with her mind what her body would achieve today. Years of preparation, seasons of planning, all for this red, red day where she would, at last, fly away. This was an end, but it was not the end. She would see this first home of hers again, returning to make it a home for everyone who lived in the land where the trees had holes and the people were hollowed-out versions of what they could be. With Zaya’s love, with her promise, with the hope that made her seers shine like stars on a rainy day long ago, Tuya opened her eyes.