Discovery: Part 1
Time passed, but there were no official dates or calendars to measure it by. Slowly, Ivan and his sisters grew older. Katya looked to be around nine now, while Ivan was a boy of six or seven.
Little Natalia underwent the most dramatic change, stretching from a chubby toddler into a young girl of five or so. Mother also looked older, but not in a good way. Her laugh lines had deepened to wrinkles and she had silver streaks in her hair.
Other things changed as well. The hut's roof caved in, and the whole structure had to be rebuilt several times. The little stream that ran beside it dried into a dusty creek bed, thwarted in its quest to become a tributary of the Volga.
The village crept farther and farther from the family's clearing. A hundred years before, it had taken an hour of walking to arrive at the small circle of houses and fields, but now it took more like a day. It wasn't a malicious or purposeful motion, but it isolated Ivan and his family even further.
Ivan could tell the village's distance made Mother uneasy. It was strange, really, because she had warned the children never to visit when it had been nearby. But now she seemed to have had a change of heart. Perhaps she missed the human contact, no matter how superficial.
She would often sit on the log bench in front of the hut, staring off into the distance in the direction of the village. At those moments, she looked ancient, a thousand years old. For all Ivan knew, she was.
Usually, he didn't bother his mother when she got into one of those introspective moods. But this particular time, Mother had been sitting in the same position for nearly the whole day. Ivan and his sisters were beginning to worry.
"Mother?" asked Katya, walking in front of her. "Are you all right?"
She didn't react, only glanced around her daughter so she could keep the forest in sight. Katya asked again and got the same reaction. Natalia stood quietly next to Ivan, sensing something was wrong.
Finally, Katya threw up her hands in exasperation. "I just can't do anything with her! This is really starting to worry me… Ivan, why don't you try?"
Ivan nodded solemnly and took his sister's place. He knelt down in front of Mother and looked hard into her eyes. Usually, his intense stares annoyed her to no end. She often told Ivan that the sensation of his eyes on her felt like someone was sitting on her soul.
But this time, his piercing look has a positive effect. Mother seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in.
"Vanya," she nearly moaned. Ivan noticed that she was using the affectionate form of his name, which she hadn't done for some time now. "I have walked these plains since men lived in caves, and I have done nothing worthwhile. Nothing that will be remembered."
"That's not true, Mother," said Ivan, trying to comfort her. "You created us, and we can help you leave your mark on the world."
"No." The darkness in his mother's voice surprised him. "It's time you all knew."
The two girls drew closer together in fear, and even Ivan shrank back a little. He sensed that his mother was about to unleash some sort of secret, something she shouldn't be revealing at all.
"I found you," she said bitterly. "Each one of you. Just when I thought I would be alone forever, I found Katya lying in a bush. Ivan, you were under a tree in the forest. Natalia… Natalia was on the doorstep."
Ivan listened, eyes wide with disbelief. He hadn't questioned her when she had told him he was immortal, but he'd been younger and his mother had been in a much more rational state of mind.
She continued, ranting. "I've had men in my bed since before there were beds, but I have never given birth to anything. How do I know you're even my children?"
Natalia's eyes were filling with tears. The little girl clutched the hem of Katya's dress, hanging on for dear life.
Katya looked just as shocked. "But Mother!" she protested. "We all look like you, don't we? That must count for something!"
Mother just sighed and shook her head sadly, as if her children were idiots and she was the only one who understood some fundamental truth about the world.
"Never mind that now. Whatever you are and whoever you belong to, I still love you. I just can't understand why you exist!" Her voice rose to a screeching crescendo, but there was no anger in it. She seemed bewildered, as if she couldn't recognize her own life.
Ivan had always thought of his mother as a mountain. She was a vast, immovable pillar of stone. She was the only thing that had stayed constant throughout his life, but now something was cracking her from within.
"I thought I would be wiser by now," she said. "Yet I still don't know what our purpose is. Why are we still alive?"
"Maybe we should go out into the world," said Ivan. "Maybe we will be able to find some answers for you."
He had always wanted to go on an adventure, to see what lay beyond the forest and meadow. Now he had an incentive, a quest.
Mother's eyes took on a faraway look. She was having similar thoughts, but for different reasons. "Yes…" she said slowly. "Perhaps you should."
Of course, Katya protested, but it made no difference. By the next morning, it was decided that the girls would stay and watch Mother, while Ivan went to seek what answers he could.
As Ivan walked, he reveled in the feeling of being alone. He was worried about Mother, but it was nice to get away from the stifling atmosphere of home. His stride was loose but purposeful, covering as much ground as his short legs would allow. Despite the circumstances of his journey, Ivan hummed a little tune as he walked.
The day dragged on and the sun moved overhead. Ivan felt like there was a faster way to get to his destination, but it eluded him. His feet were aching by the time he sighted the thatched roofs of the village.
A small boy was playing in the dirt beside the nearest hut. He was a typical Slavic child, with dark coloring and ruddy cheeks. The boy looked to be around Ivan's age, but Ivan knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.
Ivan stopped walking and tried to fade into the background, but he had already attracted the boy's attention. The child and the not-child stared at each other, eye to eye, like two animals trying to distinguish between friend and foe.
The village boy was the first to respond. He took a step forward and all but cocked his head sideways at Ivan, reinforcing the image of a timid beast.
"Are you a stranger?" asked the boy. "Or a spirit who lives in the forest?"
Ivan giggled, then wished he hadn't. The boy seemed afraid of him now, but it was just too funny. Ivan had seen spirits before, and they didn't look anything like he did. How could someone be so naïve?
The boy frowned, seeming to realize that Ivan could be a threat. He turned toward the center of the village, probably to call for help.
"Wait!" yelled Ivan. If the boy panicked and ran to his parents, the whole village would descend on Ivan with torches and pitchforks. Ivan's own mother had been driven out of several settlements this way, and she compared angry humans to a swarm of bees.
Please, Ivan thought. Don't do it, don't go in there, don't be afraid….
The boy stopped and looked around uncertainly. It was as if he was responding to Ivan's silent prayers. Surely, that wasn't possible, but Ivan was desperate. He tried again, this time making a conscious effort to direct his thoughts at the boy.
Come here, he said in his mind. I promise not to hurt you.
The boy turned to face Ivan. The look of fear had simply slipped off his face, replaced with an open curiosity.
"Let's go in together," said the boy. "I want to introduce you to my mama."
The villagers were instantly suspicious of Ivan. They rarely saw visitors, especially ones so young. But once they guarded him for several hours and realized he wasn't a scout for a band of raiders, they were much more sympathetic.
An old matron asked after his family, and Ivan vaguely motioned toward the woods. The woman clucked and shook her head. "Poor child," she whispered to another woman. "Living in the forest like an animal."
Ivan heard and was rather insulted, but he kept his mouth shut. Who was she to judge the circumstances of his life?
Several small children clustered around Ivan, staring at the curiosity in their midst. Ivan was only a boy, like them, but he had walked out of the Great Forest without falling victim to any of the things their parents had told them about. To them, Ivan must have been some kind of hero.
Ivan didn't feel like a hero. He was still nervous about the villagers' intentions, and beginning to doubt the possibility of finding the answers he was seeking.
He wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting from the place, but this wasn't it. The village itself was nice, larger than he was used to, but the people saddened him. Their purpose was to live, have children, and die. What could they know about immortality?
Ivan spent his first night in the village on the floor of the central hut. The people gave him a blanket to lie on, and the weather was pleasant enough for this to be a convenient arrangement.
The door to the hut wasn't locked or guarded, but Ivan had no wish to leave. Again he worried about his mother, and wondered how Katya was coping with her idiosyncrasies. Ivan's last thoughts before sleep took him were of his family.
He was woken abruptly by the sound of the door cracking against the side of the hut. This was followed by the clopping sound of heavy boots. They came closer and closer, until Ivan was afraid their owner would tread right over him.
Ivan opened his eyes and threw his arms out in front of him in the same motion. He found himself looking at the most frightening man he had ever seen.
The stranger towered over him. He was built like a tree trunk, with huge muscles and iron-toed boots. The man wore a metal helmet and heavy leather armor. He had blue eyes and a long, grayish beard.
"Are you the Kievan Rus?" The stranger's voice was like the rolling of thunder. It was loud, ominous, and completely inexplicable.
"Well, I think I live in it…" Ivan began.
A terrifying look crossed the huge man's face. Ivan couldn't for the life of him understand what he had said wrong. The man grabbed Ivan by the arm and dragged him to his feet. Ivan tried to influence the man the same way he had spoken to that boy the day before, but it was useless.
The man's expression didn't soften in the slightest, and he continued to hold Ivan while he looked him up and down. Ivan had been trying to be brave, but his fear built to a crescendo.
"Help!" he screamed to the sleeping village. "He-"
The man pressed a rough-skinned hand over Ivan's mouth and tried to drag him away into a corner, but the villagers had already rushed out to form a circle around the pair. They hadn't had time to light torches, but they were brandishing the iconic pitchforks that haunted Ivan's nightmares.
"Rus," said the man holding Ivan. "Calm your people." He sounded completely unperturbed, as if he was standing among a group of children with sticks.
Ivan found himself unable to do anything to influence the situation. Anyway, he wouldn't have attempted to 'calm the people' even if he could. The villagers were all that was standing between him and this madman.
"Viking," said one of the village men warningly. "Put down the boy. Your people have come to rule us, not steal our children."
"Do you see what you've done?" said the man that Ivan now knew to be a Viking, whatever that was. Ivan realized that the Viking was talking to him, not the villagers. "For once, I wasn't even trying to pillage, but now these animals must be dealt with."
The man loosened his hold on Ivan to reach for a huge battle-axe strapped to his back.
Something inside Ivan snapped. He had known these people for less than two days, but he felt some sort of strange connection with them. He just couldn't bear to see them slaughtered.
He lunged forward and managed to tear the Viking's hand from his mouth. "No," he gasped. "Don't kill them!"
The man paused with his axe raised, looking rather amused.
At that moment, the whole village threw itself upon the Viking. A woman's sickle slashed his arm, and one of the pitchforks caught him in the side. He stood perfectly still, making no move to defend himself.
Ivan jumped away from the frenzy. The Viking was terrifying, but he had seemed to know something about Ivan that the boy himself didn't realize. Much as he hated to admit it, he needed that man.
Instead of trying to shout over the commotion, Ivan found another way to get the message across. He thought of peaceful, quiet things, like the sunlit stillness of his family's clearing. Despite the adrenaline rushing through his own veins, Ivan sent these images to the villagers.
Their reaction was neither instant nor complete, but within a minute or so their ferocity diminished enough for the Viking to throw them aside like rag dolls. Ivan watched, heart in his throat, but the huge man hadn't caused any serious injuries.
As the villagers picked themselves off the ground, confused as to what they were doing and why they were there, the Viking motioned for Ivan to follow him. Together, they left the village. No one bothered them on their way out, or even seemed to notice they were there. Ivan stayed silent until they were well clear of the settlement.
"Viking, what was that all about?" he asked angrily, nearly forgetting his earlier fear.
"First of all, my name is Vikingr. A Viking is what I am."
"What's a Viking, anyway?"
"You should be more worried about yourself. I have never met a place that is so utterly backwards!"
"I'm a person, not a place," said Ivan. He was bewildered, unsure if he was the one being stupid or if Vikingr was utterly insane.
Vikingr gave Ivan a look that was something close to sympathy. "No, child. You are the spirit of the Kievan Rus."
So... did anyone like it? please review if you think I should keep writing this.