The Wounded Warsong
Chapter 38: Ink
"And it was a good burrrial Orinthia; I know, I rememberrr the previous two. You did just like the others before you... which is amazing since you'rrre not very familiar with most of our ways. We just expected yourrr mother or grandmother haha. Anyway, that was mine. Maybe a bit short but she's been good." He sat down next to another Mithra who also looked as old. Xoco stood up and tended the pot again but the other Naghual stayed put. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the last remnants of light were beginning to fade. Her red eyes stood out.
"This is for you, our warrr-daughter. They all know why I'm this way but you don't. I think it's a fitting tale for this evening." The others nodded.
"(Yeah... been wondering that myself.)"
"It's been rrroughly seventy years since I became a Naghual. I don't regret my decision."
"Are you prrrepared Xoco?"
"I am."
"Once you do this daughter you'll neverrr be allowed to have a child or a husband. Are you sure you're willing to continue with this?"
"Yes, this isn't so much my choice... it's for herrr Chieftainess. I have to do this." She nodded and stared into her eyes.
"Please, I'm sorrry for what I'm about to do." She stretched her hands and dipped them into a black ink jar. With her needle-like claws she punctured Xoco's face repeatedly so the ink would enter the skin and slowly, painfully change its color, making it impossible to see what family she came from as well as color her face black. Xoco's head was braced on a wooden form. "In a few more days you will no longer be of the Quetzlpetlatl family. You will be of our War Doctors in the Old Country: Xoco Naghual." As her face continued to be punctured Xoco began to lose herself in the pain, crying, forgetting what was going on as her mind looked for a way to forget the pain.
That's right, she thought, I chose this. I chose this so that... so that my sister wouldn't have to continue suffering or die. She'll no longer be my sister after this. I'll probably never see them again. I chose this... I chose...
Her mind faded away into her inner thoughts and memories... far from her physical agony. She began to remember parts of her childhood.
"Hey Sis! Arrre you going to be long?" She stood outside her section of the hut.
"I'll be rrready soon, looking for something..."
"You'rrre always looking for something Sis! We're gonna be late for The Choosing!" She found a small carved beaded necklace and ran with her sister out the hut and into the dirt roads. The sun was high over head and breeze was slight. Hardly any clouds in the sky and many others were walking in a particular direction. They followed the crowd.
"Look! Therrre he is! It's Wocoyol!" He and two other men were sitting inside a circle in the ground. They had their faces covered and sat with their backs to everyone. They wore only shorts but they knew it was him.
"I wonderrr who's going to get The Choice today..."
"Whoever has the biggest crop this year I hearrrd. Who knows... it's always rrrandom." The Chieftainess stood up above them on an overturn box and shouted above them.
"Everrryone! Welcome again to the monthly Choosing! This month it will be... ourrr most skilled farmer!" Everyone erupted in talk and gossip. "I've heard our Citipitlatl family has been strrrong this year! Who herrre has done better then cempohualli xitomatl bushels?" Many voices quieted down. "No one?"
"Ketlatl has done more!"
"Morrre?"
"Cempohualli-huan-nahui!" More crowd gossip.
"Hualhuica!" They began bringing large baskets full of bright tomatoes. After a few minutes the large family brought forth all twenty-four baskets.
"Yes, Citipitlatl has less." The family head conceded.
"Ketlatl family, make your choice and send herrr forward!" They chose the eldest daughter and sent her into the circle.
"Choose brother!" The crowd became rowdy as she looked them over and thought a minute.
"Quiet! Let herrr choose!" Several red-faced Mithra emerged from the crowd and began pushing them back with long staves. All their faces were expressionless. They wore red colored animal leathers across their bodies and showed no signs of being female, but no signs of being strictly male either. Their family marks were covered by the dark red ink. After a few more minutes she finally removed the face cover from one and picked him up.
"Yay! Brother was chosen! Quick, go to them Sister!" She pushed through the crowd until she finally got within a few feet of them.
"Wocoyol! Good luck!" He waved to her, slung over his new wife's shoulder. "Herrre, take this, new-hueltiuhtli!" She handed her the necklace.
"Thank you new-sister Xoco. I hope I give him many childrrren." A red-faced Mithra pushed Xoco aside and escorted her new-sister to the Ketlatl family huts.
"That's it for today! Take them Rojos!" The red-faced Mithras picked up the two remaining men and took them away to the next village.
The memory faded away...
"Ah..." The pain started to dull as her vision slowly came back.
"Get the medicine. This is taking longer then norrrmal. Quetzlpetlatl skin is tougherrr then most." She looked up into her Chieftainess' face as lit by a number of candles. "A while longer daughter. Then you'll be done and can go to the Old Country as a Warrr Doctor for our Xochitl village." They brought a damp cloth and placed it around her neck to cool her. Several other cloths were brought and damp with something else. They slowly rubbed and washed her face. The pain returned in force and she cried out.
"It's okay... shhh..." Her tears were stinging as they slid down her face.
"Ma... Motherrr..." She held her closely.
"It's okay... just hang on." She continued to clear away the blood and clean the broken skin.
"sniff H-How... sniff h-how is sh... sh-Xovo?" The scents of lavender and carnations flowed in from the outside; her nose remembering those scents as the village after being stung with the sharply pungent ink and blood.
"She is the same... just rrrest daughter." She cradled her as best she could to calm her. Her body was exhausted from the pain and she soon fell asleep. She dreamed...
"Hey Sis, what do you think we could do this yearrr?" Xoco looked up at the small clouds wandering across the sky.
"I don't know Sis... Maybe this yearrr we could learn to weave, or maybe work for some extra money for something." Xovo looked up at the sky. "That cloud up there looks like a pamama!" They laughed.
"Hey Sis, you think we could maybe try fishing?"
"That'd be differrrent."
"What arrre you two up to?" Their mother walked up to them and sat next to them. The air was warm and the breeze was gentle.
"Just thinking."
The image of her smiling mother and sister faded away...
"Xoco... we must continue. Please wake up." Her mother pushed a little to wake her.
"Ahh..." The Chieftainess had the black ink ready and her claws sharpened.
"It's time, please forgive me Xoco." She dipped her hands into the ink as her mother put her into the wooden brace. The pain returned as the Chieftainess again punctured her face repeatedly.
Xovo, she thought, I hope... I hope you'll be okay. Her vision went dark while her eyes remained open. Her mind wandered away into her memories again as her body lay paralyzed by the pain. She began to see small pieces of those memories.
"Is it okay Sis?" She had a long bandage wrapping her left arm and hand, bracing it.
"It's getting betterrr."
"That's a rrrelief... thought you broke something. Maybe we're not cut out to help fight like the others arrre..."
"We will fight by keeping them in our prayerrrs Sister."
"Sis?"
"Yes?"
"They say therrre's going to be another war soon and there aren't too many Warsongs left. Do you think they'll lose?"
"Warsongs lose? No, they won't if we have faith in them. But we also need to have faith in everrryone defending the Old Country."
"Sis, where are you going?"
"So many died from the warrr... I want to go help with the recovery this year." She nodded.
"Let's go together."
"Daughter... Are you surrre?"
"Of courrrse. If I don't do this... Sis will..." The Chieftainess walked into the hut.
"Xoco, these are rrrough times for all of us. There are other options-"
"No, there aren't. I alrrready looked into what we could do... nothing. Our village doesn't have the means to help herrr... This is the only way. We don't have much time. We need to begin now or else I'll never be able to try and save her." They nodded and followed the Chieftainess to her hut. There a large jar of black ink and a large wooden brace was stacked against a wall.
"I was given this brrrace and ink should I ever have to do this ritual... It has not been used until now Xoco. You will be our firrrst for our village..." They unfolded it and set up the interlocking parts. She lay on the brace and her mother locked her in place. The Chieftainess opened the jar of ink and grimaced at its smell. "I... I'm sorrry... Please forgive me for what I'm about to do..." Xoco's mother nodded to her. "Are you prrrepared Xoco?"
"We finished after two days off and on. I was able to travel to the Old Country as a black-faced Naghual and become a War Doctor. The names I used forrr families do not exist as I am not allowed to share them. With this I was able to get a special medicine to help my sister after she became deathly ill. It was from one of the bodies she had handled... This was the war before Ray's mother was born." She walked to the pot and stirred the soup again. "(I... I have no regrets...)" she mumbled softly.
"(We really do live in completely different worlds... yet, it's still oddly similar. In San d'Oria we would think of these people as savages... yet they are more like us then the aristocrats and academics gave them credit for. Community respect, everyone pitching in to help each other for their country, all these mutual understandings... yet also the wars and battles over this land... it's just like San d'Oria before the reign of King Ranperre, Orinthia.)" Another older Mithra stood up and walked nearer to the fire.
Author's note: I made a post about the language used in this chapter in my forum in the Final Fantasy XI Forums section of ffnet here (get rid of the space before "net"): http://www.fanfiction. net/ft/1045855/21942/1/