the huntress' return

the yuklah and elimah saga #1

“Mom, Mom, look!”

The crowd was loud and lively, closing in all around them in something akin to an embrace. Neatly dressed people embellished by their best jewelry and covered in their most expensive perfumes were brushing shoulders against one another, moving like a singular body gathered along the sides of the main road of the Capital. The fine fabrics of their tunics displayed all different shades of orange, green and pink, making one feel as if surrounded by a moving forest, dotted here and there with soft flower blossoms.

“Do you see it, Mom? Do you see it?”

Malakai was pointing at something only he could see, rising far above the crowd on his mother’s shoulders. One of his hands kept escaping from her reassuring grip, moved by the overexcitement that had taken over him ever since they had stepped outside and met the crowd for the yearly Huntress Return festivities. She was trying her best to keep him seated safe and balanced, but managing a five-year-old participating for the first time in a celebration like that - filled with loud music, sweets scents and a lot of movement - wasn’t exactly the easiest task to accomplish.

“Yes, I do, darling,” she was repeating distractedly, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and caution as she scanned the crowd. "Let's try to get a better view, but stay close to me."

“They’re so big! They’re much bigger than Systre!”

She smiled, now understanding what must have had such a strong impression on the boy: the Huntress’ dragons.

The only dragon he’d ever seen up close was the one belonging to their neighbor. Systre was a small-sized animal, of the mountain breed, and it mainly helped Azyla, a carpenter, with tasks such as transporting wood around or delivering the finished goods to her customers. Though it was strong and sturdy, firmly placed on four thick legs, the top of its head only reached as high as an adult’s knees.

“They’re like… they’re like Systre’s Mom and Dad!”

"We have to be careful," she cautioned, her voice low as they navigated through the crowd. "Stay by my side, and don't wander off."

Moving steadily through the crowd, the woman’s heart quickened as she caught sight of the crimson color of a robe in her peripheral vision. Instinctively, she steered her son away from their path, her grip tightening on his small hand. With a forced smile, she whispered reassuring words, masking her unease as she guided him through the horde. She kept a watchful eye on the people surrounding them, scanning each one of them to be able to quickly assert whether they were a danger or not. She tensed whenever someone drew near, or seemed to be looking directly at them: avoidance became her instinct, her every movement calculated to evade detection.

They finally managed to reach the front line, emerging from the cluster of shoulders, arms, torsos and other body parts, a forced, sorry smile on the woman’s face. As soon as she took the boy off her shoulders, he started jumping excitedly up and down, so she had to firmly grab his hand to make sure he wouldn’t run away in the direction of the parade.

“Why are the ladies dressed like that, Mom?” he asked, one arm still in front of him, pointing. She looked up at the Lovers, all wearing drapes of the three colors representing the Huntress Goddess, and all of them with their hair hidden beneath big hoods that cast unusual shadows on their faces.

“They are Ostelia’s maids and priestesses,” she explained, bending down a little so he could hear her better over the music of the drums and the trumpets, meant to represent the call for the start of the hunting season. “That’s what they have to wear: orange, green and pink.”

“The pink ones are pretty,” the boy commented, his big, garnet eyes sparkling with fascination. “Do they go around dressed like that all the time, Mom?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They live in their Temple. Similar to the one we go to every few days to pray.”

“And they have… dragons? Real dragons?”

“Systre is a real dragon, too,” she laughed, brushing her fingers through his dark blue hair. Then, she pointed at a different creature, one with thin, elongated limbs and slick, pitch-black skin. “Do you know what that's called?”

“That’s…” Malakai stopped to think for a few seconds, an endearing expression on his face. “That’s a weird-looking dragon, Mom.”

“That’s a wyvern, Kai,” she laughed, squeezing his hand a little harder. “They’re different from dragons, but they are Ostelia’s sacred animals, too.”

“You can ride a wyvern?” he asked, his eyes getting even bigger as he looked at the riders marching in front of them. All of them had their hair braided and decorated with blossoms and petals; their animals had similar flower crowns around their necks. They looked regal and proud, keeping their gaze facing forward, not wasting a single glance on the crowd surrounding them.

“Yes. Those ladies trained for a long, long time to become riders, but they did it because they love it. The only animals we can’t ride are horses,” she pointed towards the end of the parade, where a few dozen of those animals were accompanied on a leash by barefoot Lovers dressed in pink, spreading flower petals onto the ground from a basket firmly attached to their hip. “Do you know why?”

The boy shook his head.

“The first animal Ostelia created was the horse. They used to help us with our jobs a long time ago, but then the Goddess noticed the animals getting tired quickly and often dying because the workload was too heavy for them. So she decided to create two animals that would be stronger: the dragon and the wyvern. Now, horses are the most sacred of Ostelia’s animals.”

The boy stayed silent, his big eyes taking in the wonder of the parade, feeling like all of those people and those animals were there just for him to experience.

The Huntress Return was very often the celebration most preferred by kids: it involved sweets, tasty fruit and delicious baked goods, outings into the woods and by the Taren river, parades and fires lit til late, people dancing around them, and even though Malakai was still too young to take part in the yearly Golden Flower Hunt, she could already imagine it being exactly what he would be waiting for each season.

Granted everything would go well and he would finally be admitted into one of the Orders.

The woman looked around cautiously. This was the first time she had brought herself to allow him outside into a big crowd like that; she just couldn’t stand seeing him unable to participate at events other children loved, not anymore, despite the danger it imposed. She had convinced herself by thinking that, maybe, being exposed to the sight of dragons, wyverns and their powerful riders would light up something inside of him, something strong enough to make the Reveal happen, and all of her worries would finally disappear.

Nobody was paying them any attention, yet she still felt observed. With ferberi and Sentinels everywhere, one could never be too careful. What if someone recognised him and then…

“Chaeshe!”

A hand was placed on her shoulder, causing her heart to miss a beat. She turned around, instinctively putting one arm around Malakai and pressing him against her elegant, amber gown, the only one she had found in her closet, but as soon as she saw who had just approached them, her entire face relaxed.

“Minare,” she breathed out in surprise. “You startled me.”

The dark-skinned woman standing in front of her smiled brightly and immediately bent down to pick up the boy, who first let out a surprised squeak, but started laughing as soon as he recognised the ferbere that had been taking care of him ever since he was a baby.

“Aunt! Did you come here to see the wyverns?”

“I came here to see you, my love,” she giggled, her voice as sweet as a warm cup of milk with honey. She kissed the top of his head, asking, “Aren’t they magnificent?”

“They are! But I like the big dragons better. They’re not like Systre!”

"Would you like to ride one, one day?" she asked gently, her voice carrying a sense of encouragement and possibility.

“I don’t know if Mom will let me… She will worry about me!”

“Oh,” Minare looked up at the woman, faking a look of worry, sparkles of amusement hiding in her dark eyes, then whispered into the boy’s ear, “I think I can talk to her about it…”

Chaeshe kept looking fondly at them as they were chatting, Minare holding the boy, who was pointing in all directions and asking as many questions as he possibly could. She felt a wave of calming warmth rush over her. There was no one with hands more loving than Minare, no one with a voice wiser than hers; she was the one Chaeshe could really trust with her son.

She listened to her tackle topics that might interest the boy, paying close attention to the way he was responding to all of them. Lately, they were both trying to light up some curiosity in him, because Chaeshe grew more and more preoccupied with every day that the Reveal wasn't coming forth.

She looked as the ferbere put the boy down, his entire world still restricted to the people and the animals marching in front of him: right in that moment, nothing else mattered. The two women locked gazes. Minare got closer to her, so they could talk without being overheard.

“What do you think?” Chaeshe asked in a cryptic tone, unwilling to say anything too explicit, just in case someone could be listening to them.

Minare looked at her with an expression that was trying to mask just how sorry she felt. Chaeshe knew the truth: the days were passing, and her son’s situation was not improving. The ferbere was always trying her best to not allow her to lose any hope, but some things she just couldn’t conceal, such as the truth of what really was - Malakai was still directionless, his yamala still gray, and that was a big problem for a kid his age.

“He really likes the dragons. It might be a clue,” she said, but Chaeshe wasn’t able to find comfort in that.

“He really likes a lot of things, and none of them enough,” she sighed, looking away at the parade to avoid looking the ferbere in the face. If she did, she knew she would tear up. “I don’t know what to do anymore… I try to show him so many new things. He doesn’t reject any of them, but doesn’t get caught up in any of them, either. I check his yamala every morning and every evening. And it’s still gray. Not even a sign of a change…”

Even though the music was loud enough to make it impossible for anyone who wasn’t listening to her actively to understand her words, Chaeshe felt a chill run down her spine as soon as she spoke them. Swallowing hard, she took a look around, paranoid, and Minare had to place both her hands on her shoulders to bring her attention back to her.

“Chaeshe, look at me,” she spoke, trying to make her look her in the eyes. “You mustn’t lose hope. Nothing is set in stone just yet. Your son isn’t any different from many other children I have dealt with: it is all going to be just fine. The worst that you’re thinking of isn’t going to happen. Just trust me. He is like everyone else.”

Chaeshe did her best to take a deep breath, to push under every bad thought that was trying to take over her, and to just believe the ferbere. She had to: she knew she had to get a hold of herself for the sake of her son’s safety. She couldn’t simply surrender, because he needed her, and he was the main reason why she was still trying.

She nodded her head slowly, trying to gain some courage.

“Come, let’s enjoy the Return, now,” Minare’s hand caressed her cheek, and Chaeshe nodded again, this time with more confidence. “We won’t be doing any good by worrying about it. We can just pray, wait and see.”

Pray, wait and see. Yes, that was what Chaeshe would keep on doing.

After picking Malakai up and convincing him there were other, equally entertaining things to do apart from watching the hours-long parade march by, the two women left the crowd and directed their steps towards the spot where a tooth-achingly sweet scent was coming from.

During the Return, the Capital looked even more alive than usual: all of its citizens, both yuklah and elimah, flooded the streets wearing the same kind of clothing, yet displaying all the differences present in a city as cosmopolitan as Medevnaestre. All ranges of skin colors, different yamalas, Orders and ethnicities - one could get lost in the sea of possibilities of what was and what could be. The city was flooded with citizens from all different areas of Tarenthinel, starting from the Northern Sea regions, following the beautiful valleys of the Middleground, ending on the forests and mountains in the South; and each year, seeing the travelers coming from as far as the border with the Great Desert was a surprise for everyone.

The Return made everyone united: it was a time that didn’t know division, ranks or frontiers, as everyone came together to love the one that brought light after a cold season, Ostelia.

Making their way through the crowd, Chaeshe and Minare weren’t particularly distinguishable from the people around them, just as planned: the former having her dark blue hair braided similarly to the Lovers, with pink flowers decorating them that matched her skin tone well, the latter wearing an expensive, emerald-green dress that made her darker skin stand out beautifully. Both of them had their yamalas on their chest showing, as it was requested for any formal or public event: turquoise for Chaeshe’s Kafeli, golden for Minare’s Toledi. The stones of the yuklah surrounding them, including the men, who displayed them on their stomachs, were all glowing in different colors depending on the Goddess their lives were dedicated to.

“Who does the light blue stand for?” Malakai would ask every now and then. 

“Membrh, the one who helps you fall asleep at night and wake up just fine the next morning.” 

“And that purple?”

“It’s for Jakeela, the one that made you being born possible.”

“Wasn't purple for Loreen?”

“Loreen has a delicate shade of light pink, my love.”

They walked towards the food stalls, where the youngest ones gathered around elder yuklah ladies with dragon-shaped biscuits, while the adults preferred drinking the cherry-flavored drezvy.

To both of the women's surprise, Malakai picked for himself some candied fruit instead, and Chaeshe became particularly giggly after a few sips of the sweet drink, said to have been used by Ostelia to drunken up the Rebel Dragon and calm him down in his sleep before slaying him. After that, the afternoon almost seemed to flow more smoothly, and Chaeshe allowed herself to relax just a little. Malakai was still too fascinated by the sheer amount of people surrounding him to be able to do anything but observe and ask questions.

The music kept playing even when darkness started creeping in, the kids still running around, now keeping themselves close to the fires, and the people kept celebrating, drinking, dancing, laughing. The Huntress Return was, truly, one of the most joyous moments of the year - everything and everyone was coming back to life.

With the sun coming down, Chaeshe would usually feel the need to go home, as the dark made her feel endangered, but this time, she was happy. She was carefree. She was celebrating, laughing, feeling good for the first time in a very long while. She danced with Minare to the music, allowed herself to smile and kiss her son all over his face in a frenzy that made him giggle uncontrollably. For those few moments, there was no danger waiting for them. No need to hide.

It was tradition to finish up each day of the Return with a fire show meant to amaze and shock, prepared by some of the best riders and their animals. As soon as they started getting into their positions, the people rushed to gather in the main square, around the marble sculpture of Medevna riding the First Dragon, the air becoming even more electrifying than before.

The drezvy felt good in Chaeshe’s head and the certainty of her son's hand enclosed in her first was the one thing keeping her grounded. The chatter of the people was a relaxing background noise as they, too, got closer to the spot from which the show would be the most visible, in the back of the square.

“The fire represents the light coming back to the world after a long, dark season, warming up the night again,” Minare was explaining, and Chaeshe was simply happy to have someone like her in her life: someone to take care of her son when everything was feeling a little too much to her, when she needed a break and a sip of drezvy.

Suddenly, a dragon flew by low on the crowd, accompanied by one wyvern on each side, and the boy looked up, a sigh of awe leaving his lips. He wasn't the only one: a lot of the youngest ones pointed at the sky, and many of the adults, too, started murmuring as if they had never seen that kind of animal before. Chaeshe found it endearing, how they were all, after all, always fascinated by the same things, no matter the age.

“Are they going to fight?” Malakai asked, and Chaeshe giggled.

“Oh, no, see, they’re all friends,” Minare laughed, too, and then pointed at one of the wyverns. “Wyverns don’t have fire in their bellies, but they can do something no one else is capable of doing: they deflect the fire of a dragon. See, they don’t have scales, but even though their skin looks particularly soft and silky, it is actually very resistant and hard. It’s the only material in the world resistant to the fire of a dragon. So they can play with it however they want… You will see.”

As the creatures flew by, the anticipation of the crowd was growing and growing. It was almost tangible, palpable in the air: yuklah and elimah were almost trembling in the await of what they had kept dreaming of for the entirety of winter - the warmest light that could ever be, the one that would keep away famine and misery.

They waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing happened. After a while, some people started looking around, confused as to where the dragons had gone, why they weren’t flying above their heads already.

“What’s going on?” Chaeshe asked quietly, stepping closer to Minare. Malakai was the only one who didn’t seem confused: his eyes still up high, pointed towards the sky, he was patient in his waiting like no other kid.

“I have no idea…”

Slowly, the women started feeling a shift in the crowd: everyone seemed to be turning around to face a certain direction. They did the same, too, and soon enough they understood why: there was a tall figure standing up above everyone else.

The woman, with a well-trained body, long hair tied in a high ponytail and a face that demanded respect without the need of speaking, was dressed in red, unlike anyone else present at the Return. She was a Heart Sentinel: exactly the kind of people Chaeshe was trying to stay away from. She almost felt the urge to dodge her sight, but quick enough she realized the woman wouldn’t be able to spot her or Malakai in a crowd so vast.

As soon as more and more yuklah and elimah noticed her presence and her stance, visibly asking everyone to quiet down, every noise, every murmur died down. Someone like her, a Sentinel, didn’t need words to ask citizens exactly what she wanted them to do: a look, a particular grin, a peculiar light in her eye, her sole presence was more than enough to crush down anyone that was clearly below her in the grand scheme of things.

“I need your attention, yuklah of Tarenthinel,” her voice, though she didn’t need to use it to receive respect, was still big and loud and extended with ease over the huge amount of people gathered in the square. “Today, I am here to inform you that a big decision has been made. As meant to happen every few decades or so, you, yuklah, are being blessed by the Queen with the biggest opportunity of them all: starting from the first day after the conclusion of the Huntress Return, the Queen is opening up the Searching Season.”

The crowd started murmuring, and even Minare, who was usually up to date about all things regarding the Crown, looked at Chaeshe with an expression of surprise on her face.

“How can it be…”

“As per usual,” the Sentinel interrupted all the noise, and the entire square quieted down once again. “You will be able to sign up by filling out the form that my Sisters will give out in this very square. As to those of you that have come to the Capital from afar, the Sentinels in your cities will give out their own dispositions very soon. If you think yourself fit for serving the Great Mother, feel free to write your name down, and you will be taken into consideration. Now, please resume the celebration. May Ostelia keep on hunting.”

Despite the general surprise, the crowd repeated those last five words like one, singular person, watching the Sentinel step down and get lost amongst everyone else, so hardly noticeable despite the color of her gowns that it made a shiver run down Chaeshe’s spine. 

The music resumed quickly enough, but it was clear that no one would really be able to focus on the celebration in the same way anymore: this wasn't some small news. The Search was, in fact, the biggest news that the citizens of Tarenthinel could be receiving, and the choice of announcing its beginning right before the fire show, when everyone was gathered in one place, impatiently waiting for a big thing to commence, could be no coincidence.

Despite that, the announcement came as a surprise for everyone.

“What is the Search, Mom?”

Malakai’s question brought Chaeshe back to reality, stirring her away from her thoughts. She looked down at the boy, then at Minare, and realized that her friend was still looking in the direction in which the Sentinel had spoken from.

“Wasn’t the last Search… only fifteen years ago?” she heard her ask, but she didn’t have time to reply, as Malakai was tugging down on her gown.

“What are they searching for, Mom?”

She kneeled down to pick him up, but stayed silent. The fact that Minare was so shocked by those news left her feeling uneasy: if even the ferberi weren’t expecting an announcement like that, what did that mean? Why was the Search starting again so soon?

“The new Queen,” she answered the boy, not getting more into the details of that. She was still trying to catch Minare’s eye, to understand what she was thinking of.

“Why do we need a new one already?” Minare asked, talking more to herself than to anyone else. Her eyes slowly made their way to Chaeshe’s, and she could see just how many thoughts were galloping behind them. “Is… something wrong?”

Even only listening to those words felt like blasphemy. It almost made Chaeshe gasp and cover up Malakai’s ears to prevent him from listening to them.

“That’s… impossible,” she breathed out, not because she really thought that, but because thinking the opposite felt like something way too big to comprehend. “Isn’t it?”

“The Search doesn’t make mistakes,” Minare shook her head, and Chaeshe could tell that she, too, just like her, couldn’t bring to mind the possibility of it being otherwise. “So I don’t understand…”

“Mom! They’re back!”

Malakai’s voice got lost between the sighs of awe and the shouting of other children, all commencing as soon as the dragons appeared back in the sky. The music got even louder, its rhythm now following the pace in which the animals were moving their wings: there were five of them in the sky, their adamant riders proud and strong on their backs, leaving a trail of their long braids behind them. The eyes of the crowd were following their tricks and audacious movements, their riders not ever getting close to falling off even in the boldest of positions.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten what they had just been witnesses to.

For a few seconds, Chaeshe and Minare, too, looked up at the sky and got lost in the amazement of the fire show: the dragons spitting fire, illuminating the dark sky, then the wyverns, almost invisible against the dark background, throwing themselves in front of it to deflect it to one another, playing with it like with a ball. Every burst of light caused excitement in the crowd, and every time a wyvern pushed it back successfully, there was almost a feeling of relief coming down on everyone like a veil.

When they inevitably locked gazes, Chaeshe knew her and Minare were both thinking the same thing. The feeling of uneasiness rising up in her stomach confirmed it, too.

“We have to go,” she said abruptly, suddenly turning around away from the sight and ignoring the protesting of her son, whom she had been holding in her arms since the show had started. “It’s late, baby. You’re getting tired.”

Malakai didn’t agree with that, but she paid him no mind: she had to. In situations like this, she had to put his safety above everything else and hurt his feelings and his expectations, a little. Minare followed her, lips pressed in one thin line and one hand stretched out before her to run her fingers through the boy’s hair, trying to calm him down. His complaining was gaining them the attention of the people around them as they were pushing through the crowd, and that was exactly what they didn’t want to do.

As soon as they emerged from the cluster of people right outside of the square, Minare matched her pace with Chaeshe’s, stepping now next to her and grabbing her hand tight. They locked gazes. She tried to smile at her, but she didn’t smile back. She could see all the worry and preoccupation back in her eyes, flooding every single one of her thoughts, a poison to her mother heart.

Something was wrong in Medevnaestre. And any ounce of imbalance could be a danger to fugitives like them.