A red-haired girl named Sally and her family lived in a modest house in the western Hyrkanian steppe near the goddess mountain, in a remote village. She was 17 years old, her figure was just evidence of her femininity; her breasts stood out from under her dress, she was also slim and pretty. She lived a carefree life. Her father would sometimes let her go sometimes chase the rabbits.
She showed skill with the slingshot and was even beginning to like it. She often invited her spin with a stone lying around and would watch them from their position. Sometimes it took hours until a rabbit scurried past her position; but it was worth it, now that her father had no time to go on the hunt. He had to order the fields, and prepare the cattle for sale at the livestock market. Which would be in the larger town a few miles further north-west, few days trek to be precise. Her younger brothers were playing near the house; they were both just 5 years old, they were twins one had red hair as did Sally and the other child took more after her mother, with dark brown hair.
Sally's mother was in the house preparing and cooking the food; her father was in the stable and took care of the baby animals that this night had come into the world. It was afternoon, as she turned her attention from the rolling hills to the sky; Sally used her hand to shield her eyes from the blazing sun. The horses and cattle grazed on the large paddock just a short distance from the house, near the small stream that ran along the side of the house, which meandered splashed into the horizon.
"Sally! Sally!" The red haired female looked up when she heard her mother calling. She was sat in the soft green grass on the hill; a wreath of daisies on her long red hair. Her discoloured green and bare feet rested amongst the blades of grass, a basket full of wild flowers sat within her lap. For she had gone to her secret hiding place, as always when the time allowed; though her daily duties of sweeping, herding the goats, feeding the chickens along with collecting the eggs, and driving the cattle to the meadow. All of these took a higher priority.
However there was one other gift that Sally had, it was the gift of healing. To carry out this task she had to collect herbs for the production of the various drinks and salves. To get them she had to go to an enchanted place that only she knew. Within the place that the herbs were collected from was a great goddess Scathach, the goddess of battle. This particular goddess lived in a cave on the sacred mountain, so the scribes told.
The silhouette of the anboto (mountain) loomed in front of the clear spring sky. As always, when the goddess was there, the summit would be shrouded in clouds, which deprived it from the sight of mortals, almost as if it were a secret. From time immemorial, the inhabitants of the valley every day would look to the summit. They would let out a relieved sigh when they realized that the mountain was covered, because everyone knew that the goddess would be there and that they would be under her protection. However if the summit was visible, they would be worried because it meant that the Scathach was staying at one of the other places she inhabited, and they would not know when she would return.
Sally came to her secret place in the hope of one day seeing the goddess. She knew the stories of missing young girls, who had been so bold or recklessly entered the area without permission of Scathach. Sometimes after a long time had passed a piece of clothing, a handkerchief, or a ring of those unfortunate souls surfaced.
Sally knew in her mind that she would not enter the cave without permission, but wait patiently until she was asked to do so. She would also wait patiently until she'd heard the great goddess speak, and then would withdraw slowly, without turning her back on the deity. Until that time came, she would look upon the mountain, while weaving garlands of flowers and a scribe to the great goddess.
Ever since Sally's great-grandmother the inhabitants of the western Hyrkanian steppe, had for several years given up their privacy. The gift that the old farm Mistress had, attracted people like honey to a bee; there was hardly a day that passed without a man or woman panting, sweating through the vast steppe. Although they feared the old Mistress and it took them some time until they recovered from the effort. After her death, it was again quiet in the house; since neither her daughter nor her granddaughter had inherited the gift.
Gret climbed the gentle slope, but remained standing when she saw the young girl that came to meet her, "The grandmother wants to talk to you," she exclaimed and told her to hurry up. Gret was a mature, but yet still young woman; well-proportioned and harmonious facial features. Within her eyes was a mixture of kindness and sadness that would notice one immediately.
She had worked hard since childhood and could not remember a single day when she would have had time for idleness. Gret's duties forced her to get up before dawn, and she would work until late in the night on her feet. The only thing she never tired or bored, was the time that she worked with the herbs.
From her mother she had learned the art of herbalism, as these were previously taught from her mother and so on through the generations. Gret knew the names of each flower, which were on the steppe and within walking distance of the mountain.
When the young Sally was born, her grandmother Doradea could not hide her emotions, "She has a gift", she cried happily as she looked at her new-born granddaughter.
"How do you know that?" Gret asked.
"I just know. I see it in their eyes. "Doradea replied with satisfaction, "It is the gift of the women in our family. Neither you nor I have them, but little Sally does, just like my mother!"
Gret did not know then whether she should be happy or sad. She had only vague memories of her grandmother; a gaunt woman, always dressed in black who dealt sparingly with words and gestures. She remembered that she would silently creep like a cat around the house, strange words often being muttered, as she brewing in a corner of the kitchen herbs and other ingredients.
Foreigners would also come to the court to be freed from the suffering in their bodies, the turmoil that she had to go through on a daily basis, before she passed. Sally's grandmother and her mother never left the child out of their sight. The first woman waited to find out if the gift showed when she was sure that it had the latter saw in her mirror image of the man with whom she shared her life.
Sally was born on a stormy night, while lightning shattered the anboto. The birth lasted long; as did her quiet, she did not leave the salvaged spot that had given to her during the first nine months of her life protection.