Sticky hot jungle air clung to her open back, little beads of sweat slowly trailing down her skin. It was the first day of the warm season, coming right after the ruthless cold of winter. Once again the sun shined down between the cracks of dense overgrowth high above their heads. A group of macaque passed by jumping from one thick twisting tree vine to another, glancing at a group of predators they knew to be precautious around. Because from down below on the jungle floor, a gang of small sun-kissed children stood in a circle, surrounding a boy and a girl.
"Tipene.." The girl said, cradling a creamy white, yellow spotted snake in her hands. The reptile slithered around constantly, like water in a disturbed pond. Despite that, the young islander girl moved her arms to the rhythm of its flow expertly, never once taking her eyes off the rigid boy in front of her. She moved closer, shifting her hand slowly to its head to keep it facing towards the boy.
"It is said the great warrior who slayed the giant of the pond can withstand anything. He was invincible." She held the snake towards him, "Nothing could hurt him, and the sound of his footsteps made even the most ferocious of tigers quake in fear."
Tipene, the boy, had his eyes glued onto the snake's beady ones. Sweat, not from the heat of the jungle, trickled down his forehead but he dared not move. The girl smiled softly looking down at it, stroking the top of the reptiles smooth head with one finger. Her eyes flashed up under the thick of her dark lashes, shining bright green like emeralds in a forgotten cave.
"Only time was more powerful than him; it is more powerful than all of us." The snake wrapped its slender body around her arm, squeezing softly but she was far from concerned. "Will you be the warrior of legend. Are you the perfect warrior?"
Tipene swallowed thickly and nodded his head, "Yes."
She smiled and motioned for him to raise his arm. He did so hesitantly, his arm shaking.
"Prove you are. Feel the bite, take the poison. Only the warrior can survive."
All the other kids drew in closer, eyes wide and waited with bated breath. Apprehension filled the air around them as inch by inch the snake's head drew closer to the boy's tanned arm. The reptile was perfectly still, and only the flash of a thin tongue slipping out of it's lips moved, tasting the air. She felt the snake tense in her palms, muscles coiling.
"Do not be scared. The warrior shows no fear."
She extended her arms, and the snake hissed lowly, a warning. Ready to strike.
"CITRA!"
They all jumped when an unexpected voice disturbed the trance they were all in. A man emerged from the foliage, a long machete in his hand, and a furious look on his ragged face. Citra backed away, the snake hissing at the new arrival, its body now squeezing with intense pressure on her small arms. In long swift strides the man crossed the distance between them, and in a flash grabbed the snake and ripped it away from her, and flung it away into some bushes.
Citra's chest tightened in fear, and she barely had time to raise her arms when the man smacked her good on the head. She cried out in pain, clutching the pounding of her skull. Another pained cry escaped her lips as the man pulled her hair tightly, making her head burn. The man didn't let go, but instead moved his attention to the other kids.
"All of you! Get back to your homes before I feed you to the crocs!" The man barked, and the kids scrambled away. He huffed and marched back the way he came from, pulling Citra along. She hissed but her hands stayed by her hips, curling and uncurling. Sometimes he would tug it harshly, just to punish her more. It continued like that until they broke through the foliage of the jungle and into an open grass field.
He finally let go, and she skittered away rubbing her aching head.
"What were you doing with that snake?" He questioned, crossing his arms over his wide tattooed chest.
She bowed her head, "Nothing, Tane."
He snorted and crouched down to be eye level with her, "Tell me child or your father will hear of this."
She frowned but remained stubbornly silent. After a few seconds he sighed and grabbed each of her wrists, forcing her palms up.
"You see this?" He said, shaking her hands, "Snakes are unclean. Dirty. They are bad creatures, and should not be touched. They stain hands with wickedness, and you are lucky they haven't stained yours. But you won't be next time. Do you understand, Citra?"
She lifted her head and nodded, "I understand."
"Don't play with snakes, Citra."
"Yes, Tane."
He accepted that and stood up, swatting her head lightly. "Come. Today is the day your father and brother comes back from Chinu. You should not be out playing, child. Your father expects you to greet him and your brother, such is the duty of a daughter and sister."
Tane walked off, and she had to jog to match his long strides. Through the long grass fields, and into the village. Families were all inside preparing for the arrival of their sons coming back from the Chinu. Tane walked with his head high, an air of authority surrounding his tall form, and why should he not? He was after all one of the most respected elders in the tribe, along side his brother Anaru. They, with many other young men, fought in the great war that united all the tribes on the island into one strong, empire. But that was before her time, and she only heard of the war through stories told by her father. Now, all the Rakyat people lived together, and that is the life she knows.
"Go get ready. They will be coming soon." Tane ordered when they entered their house.
Citra went off, her bare feet padding on the wooden floorboards, making some creak and moan under her weight. First, she went to her room and with a bucket went outside to fill it up with water. Sitting outside, she washed her body clean, and after that she went back to her room. On a small, dingy bed she slipped on an orange tube top followed by a dark blue skirt.
Opening up a straw cupboard she took out three bowls and sat herself down before a round mirror left leaning against the wall. She sat down, placing the three coconut bowls beside her. In each bowl contained three different colored powder: White, purple, and red. It was custom for daughters to cake their faces with color, the white representing youth, the purple meaning truthful, and the red, of course, love. As taught, she covered every inch of her face white, smearing purple on her lips down to her chin, and lastly coated her finger red to dab it on her eyelids. With the red, she moved on from her eyes to poke it across her forehead, lining red dots on the top of her eyebrows.
Water from her hair trickled down her face, and she wiped them away annoyed. Worried, she turned her face side to side to make sure it wasn't messed up. When it wasn't, she put back the bowls and got to work slipping on each bracelets beads on both of her wrists, as well as golden ring bracelets on her ankles. Staring at herself in the mirror, she decided she looked representable enough. Now time to get the last thing.
Strapping a knife to her hip, she went outside again and approached a mango tree. Her father told her that this tree was special because her mother had planted it, and nurtured the tree for many years until.. her passing. No one has told her how her mother died, and her father said he will tell her when he deems her ready. When that will be she doesn't know.
Standing in the shade, she placed her foot in a ridge and pulled herself up. Hanging from a branch, she pulled out her knife and started cutting the stem that connected the mango to the branch. Easily it fell, and she jumped off, landing next to the fruit. She made sure to get a plump one, so when she cut it in half there would be a lot for the two coming home.
Citra's chest tightened at the thought. Too long they have been gone. What must have been months, felt like years to her. But she knew there was nothing she could do to prevent it. The Chinu was a ritual all young boys had to go through, but what they experienced was unknown to her. Girls weren't allowed to participate in Chinu. But that didn't mean they couldn't train. The ritual is only meant for boys, but girls could join in training to become a Rakyat warrior.
Her father had left too, since he was one of the teachers of Chinu, so she was left in the care of her uncle. Living with one of the most strictest, no nonsense teacher in the tribe taught her a thing or two on how to fight, and throw a knife. Mostly basic stuff until she actually came of age to train for real.
Once done cutting the fruit, she cradled it in her arms and jogged to the front of the house where Tane stood, straight and tall. She stood next to him, and they both waited in silence. Citra could feel the excitement bubbling beneath her skin, even though she kept a cool face. From a distance, bells started ringing.
Citra let out a low exhale, every nerve in her body frizzling. And finally, finally, two figures, one tall and the other short, approached them. They came closer, and Citra could see them clearly now. Anaru and Vaas stopped before them, and it was only custom for Tane to greet them first. As her uncle welcomed back Anaru, she never once took her eyes off her older brother. He looked like the brother she remembers, but so very different at the same time. Vaas looked straight forward, ignoring his sister's stare.
"Father." She greeted him first when Tane finished, and gave the man the piece of mango. When Anaru laid his eyes on his daughter again, it seemed like all the seriousness on his face melted away to be replaced with a kind smile. He took her offering and bit into it. She then turned to her brother.
"Vaas." She said, and he finally looked at her.
His green eyes.. just like hers. A wave of warmth washed over her to feel her brother's gaze on her once again. She had almost forgotten how clear and bright they were. Almost.
She handed him the fruit, and he took it, his fingers brushing hers lightly. Vaas bit into the juicy fruit, sweetness exploding in his mouth.
"Thank you for taking care of Citra. Remind me to give you a gift of my gratitude." Anaru said, clasping his brother's shoulder.
Tane did the same, grinning back, "How about the sweet cocoa butters in the rolling hills, and a shark's skin while you're at it."
The two brothers laughed, knowing that Anaru would get all those things even if it was a joke.
"Now!" Anaru swooped down and snatched Citra, placing her on his shoulders. "Back home we go. I think I've forgotten what an actual bed feels like!"
"See you at the celebration." Tane called after them, "And Citra! I expect to see you in the future at my classes."
Citra looked back and nodded her head smiling at her uncle. She waved him goodbye as Anaru walked down the hill, and to the direction of their house. They passed through the village square, where various decorations were being put up for tonight's celebration. Citra was excited for that, with all the music, and the liveliness. But she was more excited for other reasons.
They came to their house, and when they entered everything looked the same as the day they left it, except everywhere there was a sheen layer of dust. Anaru placed Citra down and went to the kitchen to unload the fresh pack of kills he's got before arriving at the village. Immediately, Vaas started straight for his room but Citra blocked his path.
"Vaas tell me how did it go? What did you do?" Citra shot, bouncing on her heels.
"Citra, leave your brother alone. He is tired from the journey, and will need all his strength for tonight." Anaru said over his shoulder as he laid dead komodo dragons the kitchen counter.
She pouted, and stepped aside letting Vaas continue down the hall to disappear into his room. She followed him with her eyes, staring at his exposed back. It was more tanned than she remembered.
"Help me skin these Citra." Her father called.
She blinked, "Yes, Father." And went to help him out.
Citra spent the rest of the day waiting impatiently for the sun to sink and the moon to rise. While waiting, she had one peek into Vaas' room. Cracking the door open a slit, she saw him laying on his bed, his chest rising up and down slowly. She stood there, just watching him entranced. She couldn't help it. It's been so long.
When the moon took the throne in the sky, did all the villagers come out. Music filled the night air, and a huge fire pit was made. People danced around, getting drunk on sweet, rich wine that tasted like honey in a bees nest. Of course, none was shared to her. Vaas got a sip, but he grimaced as it went down his throat. From a group of girls, she kept glancing at Vaas, who was surrounded by his fellow peers.
Despite the joy, Vaas looked bored, maybe even solemn. It wasn't long before he excused himself from his friends to retire home. Citra didn't say anything to her acquaintances when she got up and followed after him in the shadows. The sound of music faded away, and she watched him enter their house. She waited for a moment before going inside.
It was dark, a stark contrast when the house was lit up by daylight. In the day it looked inviting, welcoming. Now the house was silent like the dead. She tip-toed her way pass the kitchen and down the hallway. His door was closed, but it was closed every night she came. She pushed the door open softly and slipped into the quiet room. By memory she crossed the room to his bed, but before she could reach it a single floorboard creaked.
Citra froze, holding her breath.
"... Not tonight Citra."
She exhaled at the sound of her brother's voice, and continued to his bed without a care to stay silent any longer. Her legs bumped on the edge of the bed, and she climbed onto it, and over her brother's waist.
"Citra not tonight." Vaas repeated, his voice trying to stay firm. The moon shone through the glass window, illuminating the two of them. She could finally see his face in the pale glow of the moonlight. She held his cheek, rubbing her thumb softly on his skin. When she saw Vaas again, she thought he looked so different. How could she every think that? The anxiety in his eyes.. he was still the same. He was still the brother she knew. He was still her Vaas.
"I missed you." She said, her voice the only noise in the silent room. She leaned down, placing her forehead against his, their breaths mixing together.
"Citra please.." Vaas whispered, his stomach churning unpleasantly.
She stilled, and abruptly pulled away, her face twisted in anger.
"Do you not love me anymore!?" She yelled, pounding a fist on his chest, her body shaking. "Do you not love me, huh? Answer me!"
Tears slipped down her freshly powdered cheeks, and she couldn't stop hitting his chest. Her mind was buzzing, like there were a million hornets inside.
"Stop, stop! I love you, Citra! I love you, I love you please just stop." Vaas begged, sitting up. He grabbed her wrists and tried to stop her from hitting him and she cried, trying to pull away. Her crying stopped quickly, and she sniffed, wiping away a loose tear.
"Say it. Say you love me."
"I love you." He responded, but they fell from his lips so easily.
She sniffed again, and held his hand in hers.
"You are my warrior. My perfect warrior."
With one hand she rubbed the red powder on her eyelashes and smeared it across his trembling lips.
"You love me?" She asked, scooting closer to him.
He stared at her, and she thought his green eyes were so beautiful. Like gems she could pluck out.
"I love you." He said finally, his eyes watering.
"Then let me show you my love."
It has been so long. Before he left for Chinu, she would come to him at night, like a game they played. It was fun at first, but as Vaas grew older, now in his eighth year, he was beginning not to like their game. But she didn't care, and he was too scared. Too helpless.
She touched him in places that made him squirm, his stomach twisting. He wants to tell her to stop. Stop, stop and leave him alone but he can't. She explored him, and she made him do it back. There was no innocence like the first time so many years ago. It isn't fun anymore.
Citra removed her hand from underneath his cotton shorts and laid beside him, pressing her lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss.
"I love you, Vaas."
She was his, and he was hers.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"I love you too, Citra."