I can still feel her ragged breath on my shoulders. Her fingers were bent and grey and had much more in common with a raven's claw than human hands. Sometimes she would even place her fingers on my arms. I'll never forget how cold they were, colder than snow I thought more than once. But despite her wheezing breath, her claws, and her strange ways, that woman was always looking out for me.
"Tell me what you see" She said as she bent closer to me, her nails digging lightly into my skin. "Tell me what you see".
No matter how many times she asked that question, I could never bring myself to answer her. It felt like cold silver had wrapped my tongue and tight ropes were wrought around my chest. I could only breath quick shallow breaths that never seemed to be enough.
"You see it, don't you?" She would continue as she stepped back "You see it."
Whatever she asked of me, I could never refuse; no matter how strange the request, or how hard the labor, I always nodded and answered "Yes Thama.". And it was no different when she sped up to me, waddling out from the hut with her many necklaces and bracelet banging and jangling loudly. "The forest, you must go! Go now! And return only when you find it." She had said, a wild flame in her eyes.
And somehow, I knew what she meant. I had felt it in my bones, brewing deep inside of me, for a while. And though I knew not what she spoke of or what she wanted, needed, me to find, I was certain I would understand when the time was right. It had always been so. I had learned quickly to trust in the old Thama and her peculiar ways.
The forest floor was damp and the dead leaves squished under her feet. The earth was cold, it had still been frozen not even a fortnight ago. The trees were starting to wake from their winter sleep, and everywhere around her, the forest was alive. As she delved deeper inside the forest, the branches thickened and the trees darkened.
Strange creatures squawked and screeched, screaming at her to leave from their sanctuary. She wondered how many humans had been this far in the forest. The foreboding dark trees and the strangely colored bush offered no comfort to her; the landscape was totally alien. Though a shiver ran down her spine, she pressed forward boldly, knowing with certainty that she would find what Thama wanted brought back to her. No doubt cast a shadow in her mind.
The setting sun set the horizon ablaze and everywhere she stepped, the ground was covered in golden strips cut intricately by the branches like stained glass.
The night wind could be smelled faintly in the breeze when she heard it. A snapping, then a thud, and finally silence once more. She had ventured far enough inside the guts of the forest that no other living creature could be heard. But the silence was broken once more by a long, laborious sigh.
A man laid on the ground, his pale hair drenched in sweat and his face speckled with dried blood. A large gash ran down from his left brow down to his jawline, deep enough for ivory white to be seen deep in the sea of red flesh. She knew now what had to be done.
With the little strength he had left, he was able to walk feebly by her side. With every effort, a new wave of fresh blood came spilling out from chest and his trembling right leg.
When once again the hut came into view, Thama was waiting at the threshold, her silhouette cutting out the light and casting a long shadow on the beaten path.
"Good, good you are back." She said as she surveyed the man the girl carried with strangely distant eyes.
As she laid the man down on a cot, blood spurted from his mouth and rattles shook his body.
"Fetch my herbs. He will live; his death is not what I have planned for him." Thama said as she grabbed him firmly by the chin and shook his head left and right.
That night, the hut was filled with Thama's strange songs, songs that echoed deep within one's bones. Her yowling didn't usually unsettle the girl, but that night, she had covered her ears, shy tears rolling down her cheeks, and tried her best to ignore them. That night, Thama was using her blood songs, songs that call out to forces ancient and mighty that few remember and fewer still can command. The many shadows cast by the lone fire in the darkened hearth danced all night long upon the walls.
"Come and bandage his eye. He will have no further use of it. Such is the price." Thama said as she walked away and retreated to her bed hidden inside an alcove.
The girl nodded obediently and fetched the bandages. The man, pale and weak, was breathing steadily and though his eyes danced wildly under his lid, he seemed much better off than when she had found him.
Thama's knowledge ran deep and strong, like roots to an immemorial tree. Whatever ailed the young man, whatever cuts he had, Thama was able to heal. The aromatic scent of the burning summer flowers hung in the air and every day the man would be bathed in the smoke. Under her very gaze, the girl could see the flesh mend, the skin brighten, and the scars appearing. Those he would bear for the rest of his life. "Such is the price" Thama kept uttering. Within a fortnight, all his wounds were closed and free of disease. She was sure he would wake anytime soon, as would be expected. She spent hours on end sitting in a corner of the main room where he was bedridden, patiently waiting for a gasp or a sigh.
The cold claw of Thama surprised her. The fingers dug inside her skin and the girl felt a heaviness bear down on her heart like she had never felt before.
"Tomorrow he will leave. You will strap him to our horse and watch him leave. It is what we must do." she said, her raspy voice filling the girl's ears.
He was slumped over the saddle, chest resting on the horse's neck. His mouth was agape and deep laborious breaths escaped through his chapped lips. The girl knew now that Thama had put a spell on him to keep him sleeping. And if Thama did something, it was what had to be done. The girl never questioned her. After all, Thama had never been wrong.
The strange feeling welling up inside the girl's guts was one she had never felt before. She felt like the sea was pulling back, preparing to assault her with a tidal wave that no one could stop, not even Thama. It was a heavy silence, full of ancient sighs and troubled future. She could see the skies darkening on the horizon. A storm was brewing, one like there hadn't been in centuries. She feared it would flood the land and turn everything she knew into a deep, dark and cold ocean.
"Things are set in motion now that cannot be undone." Thama said quietly, her voice sounding far away, like a whisper carried by the wind.
Cold tentacles wrapped themselves around the girls entrails. She knew it too. She had been dreading it for a while now. She finally understood why she never answered Thama when looking at the embers.
This is what she saw: a storm that threatened her world looming on the horizon.