AN: Again, sorry for the miss in upload; it's a longer one to make up for it. Summer's coming to a close so I might not have as much time to write. I'm going to try and get as much done before I have to go back to school, but uploads might dwindle to every other Sunday. But I hope you guys stick around; the story's gonna get interesting soon :3
"I think it's time we did something different," Anya said. She had Levi on the side of the path deep in the woods. Lexa reigned in Naya and strung her bow over her shoulder. The sekon and geda had been practicing archery from horseback, and Lexa proved adept at it as Anya had watched her sekon land hit after hit as she galloped through the woods, each arrow landing in the center of the target. She had managed to pin both straw dummies through the neck, and had even managed to clip the hanging target on the bottom left corner. Lexa's heart was just now starting to wind down from the adrenaline rush.
"What do you mean?" Lexa said. "I still have to practice. I missed that fourth target's center mark by about an inch, and did you see the hanging target? It was practically shameful. The arrow wasn't even in the blue circle, it was in the white."
"No." Anya said, reigning in Levi, who had spotted a particularly lush piece of grass on the side of the dirt path. The first had noticed that after Milo's death, Lexa had thrown herself into her training with a fury that rivaled when they had first started, even after Costia had been assigned to a new first, Kaushik. Every day she pushed herself to the limit, her face growing red-purple with effort, her muscles straining. She worked Naya too, every time they practiced calvary skills. And Lexa's skill with archery, even in these few short weeks, and skyrocketed. "Come."
Lexa was used to Anya never revealing the full story of the training. One time she had led Lexa into the woods blindfolded with nothing but her archery set and Lexa had been tasked with finding her way home and shooting every target that she spotted in the trees. Lexa had no problem completing the task, nor the numerous archery practices Anya had made her do, nor the push with calvary practice. Lexa could gallop with ease at this point. When she mounted Naya, it was like they became one unit. She could steer her horse without the reigns. Despite all of this, Lexa refused to move on from archery. She had not mastered the skill, therefore she could not move forward.
Anya led Lexa back to the village to the stables, and together they unsaddled their horses and brushed them down, turning them out into the pasture to cool. Anya climbed into the trees and Lexa followed, swinging on branches and climbing through the leaves like a squirrel. They reached the clearing, and Anya jumped down. Lexa followed, dispersing the energy of the fall into a neat summersault and landing on a knee, her bare feet clinging to the earth. She breathed for a moment, and then joined Anya in front of her. Anya was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the clearing. She patted the earth in front of her, and Lexa sat down.
It had become something of a secret practice that Anya braided Lexa's hair after Milo had left. Despite Milo not being Lexa's first, she had still taken it hard. Lexa spent all of her free time with Costia, and the two had grown remarkably close. It was almost like Lexa didn't even have to speak, Costia already knew what she was going to say. And Anya had been a huge help as well. Her training and mentoring helped distract Lexa from the harsh reality, despite Anya constantly telling her that she needed to face the reality of life as Tregedakru. And life on the ground no matter what people you were with.
"Summer is coming to a close," Anya began as she combed through Lexa's hair. "We'll need to start stockpiling meat for the coming winter."
"I know," Lexa said, before she could keep her sass to herself. Anya responded with a painful tug on Lexa's hair before continuing.
"I know you know," Anya said. "No doubt you've seen the leaves begin to yellow on certian trees, and the goldenrods bloom, and the mayapples ripen and harvested. The signs are clear as ever. Now. You know that the start of fall is of course, the equinox."
"One of two times day and night are exactly equal," Lexa intoned. "The other being in the spring."
"Well, the equinox is one of four days that the Tregedakru meet," Anya said.
"How do you mean?" Lexa asked. This was the first time she was hearing about the Tregedakru higherups and their workings.
"Well, our village is part of the Tregedakru people. Our village is one tribe in the Tregedakru. There are twelve other tribes. You knew at least there were other tribes, as you are one of the sekons that is not from this village; you left your parents to come here." Lexa nodded, this was all true. She hadn't known how many tribes there were, but she had known there were others beyond their village.
"Well, the reason that happens is because each class of sekons, at the beginning of the summer, all of the year tens from the entirety of the 12 tribes are sent to one tribe. And it rotatoes. So one year, the class of sekons is sent to the first tribe, the next year they're sent to another tribe, and so on until you get to tribe 12 and then it starts again. This is why you are the only sekons in our village."
"How big are the groups of sekons?" Lexa asked. Currently, their were nine sekons.
"It depends. Your year is rather small, likely from the huge famine that hit the year before you were born. They can be anywhere from around ten sekons to upwards of fifty, which I'm sure for you is hard to imagine." Lexa nodded - if they were able to cram 10 sekons barely into one tent, then a group of fifty sekons must need five or six to fit everyone.
"But remember. Sekons don't always make it. By the time you become a geda when you're twenty, perhaps three of your other sekons will have made it. Classes of fifty, maybe fifteen will make it. It's tough living in this world. So two things will happen. The first is that you will be coming with me to the equinox tribal meeting. Each heda from each tribe, along with the commander of the Tregedakru, meets in the central village. And each heda is allowed to bring anywhere from one to five of their strongest geda. Tohru has already informed me that he will be bringing me to the meeting, and geda, if they have a sekon, are allowed to bring their sekons."
"Is anyone else going?" Lexa asked.
Anya sighed as she finished combing Lexa's knotted hair and separated the curly brown mane into strands to begin braiding. "I do not know. Tohru does not tell the geda the others he brings. My guess, he'll be bringing Connor and Juram, possibly Danith as well. But I have no idea. Perhaps he will only be bringing me, although I think this is unlikely. Heda like to show off their strongest warriors."
"Will..." Lexa tried to start, but she couldn't finish. Anya knew.
"I don't know. Kaushik is a fine warrior, but I don't know if Tohru will chose him. He would have taken Milo, had Milo survived. But that will be a subject of the meeting - the reapers. I don't doubt they'll make another appearance, and we need to learn about this new enemy."
"So what's the next thing we'll be working on?" Lexa asked as Anya tied off Lexa's braid. She turned around and looked at her first's brown hair, braided neatly, her dark brown eyes, her flat, round face.
"You need to move on from archery. You have proven yourself worthy enough. Not even Connor can be perfect at every moment. Part of the art of mastering a weapon is knowing when you are good enough. Even with constant practice, every moment of every day, you will still make mistakes. Mind you, we will still be practicing every day. But it will no longer be our focus. It is time for you to move on."
Lexa nodded. It was time. "So then. What is the task."
"You know what to do. Find a tree that speaks to you. Hardwood only." Lexa stood, and turned from her mentor into the woods. For the first time in the weeks that had passed since Milo's death was Lexa alone, and she slowly breathed in the scent of the forest. Her hand dragged across the trees, caressing the bark. It had been a long time since she had been with the mother. The earth kept tearing things away from her, and Costia. And breaking Costia's heart broke Lexa's more than she could imagine. But alone in the woods, everything went away. She was tregedakru, after all. Her people were the trees, and the trees were her people.
Her fingers lingered on the smooth bark of the hornbeam. Its strong ironwood called to her. It was a young tree, thin like a whip, perhaps twenty years old if that. Just like Lexa. The tree was short and flexible, it swayed in the wind, and yet when Lexa gave its branches a tug it held fast.
"This one," Lexa said, and an overwhelming sense of deja vú hit her, her head spinning almost as if she had vertigo. Because she had done this before, to make her bow. A fine bow it was, made of that ash tree. And this hornbeam, Lexa thought, would also serve her, become her companion as the bow had. She turned, and as always, Anya stood there, hovering between the trees. "This one," Lexa repeated. Anya nodded. The tree was downed and carried back to camp, Lexa sorry the earth had to give up a being to make a tool and a weapon, but grateful for the tree she provided.
Anya showed Lexa how to peel away the bark and carve the hornbeam into a strong, sturdy shaft. Lexa already knew what was happening. The tree had told her before Anya needed to, just as Anya had said. The days started to blend together, just as they had when they were making Lexa's bow. The shaft was fire hardened slowly, sanded to smoothness, and etched. Lexa found herself in a schedule: everyday the shaft was worked, then the bow was practiced, the horse ridden, the food eaten, the sekons fought, Costia would sleep, and then Lexa, and then the days repeated. They were in a moment of peace as the week passed, the battles with the Isagedakru not forgotten, but moved to the back of the mind, and the reapers were studied and talked about behind closed doors as the equinox approached.
The shaft was completed at the end of the week, and Anya produced a piece of rock so black it resembled the night sky as the light reflected off the stone, bouncing and twinkling like stars.
"Obsidian," Anya told Lexa that day. "A stone sharper than steel. We'll make your spearhead from this."
Lexa nodded, and Anya showed her how to carve a pressure flaker, and together they flaked off chinks of the obsidian until slowly a leaf-shaped blade appeared about the size of Lexa's hand. Anya showed Lexa where the pine resin was at the tops of the tree, and together they climbed higher and higher to harvest the resin, boiling it and mixing it together with charcoal until it was the perfect consistency. They bound the spearhead to the shaft with the glue and string until the golden syrup hardened into a thick, black crust, the string binding the spearhead to the shaft until the whole spear was stronger than the hornbeam itself. At the end of two weeks, the spear Lexa held was awesome, almost bringing her to tears. The whole weapon was a head longer than she.
"Now," Anya said, once the weapon was complete. "Your second task. You must track an animal. The equinox is a fortnight away. You must find an animal before that time."
Lexa nodded. The next morning, she awoke early, no weapons with her, dressed in her usual dusty frock and leggings, her feet bare, a jacket over her shoulders in the cool morning air. Her bow was strung over her shoulder, her arrows collected in a leather quiver, a small bladder of water at her hip.
The Tregedakru had always had a respectful attitude towards hunting. Each animal was sacred in among itself, and therefore must be treated with respect. Lexa was expected to find an animal. So she did. She spent hours wandering through the forest, looking for the signs of deer. Broken branches where the animal had walked past, grasses where the animals had nibbled and ripped up, the gentle, vague tracks in the mud from weeks ago, hardened scat. Lexa followed the signs, and the hours turned to days. She soon learned that she wouldn't be able to return to the village at night. The last night she put together a pack of things she would need, and said goodbye to Costia and Anya. And she went further and further. The further she went from the village the fresher the tracks became. The scat went from being a week old to being days old, to steaming. The prints became fresher, the signs more recent. Lexa felt like she knew the herd of deer: it was a mother doe, three younger juveniles and an older doe. The older doe's leg was injured; this was the deer that Lexa needed.
And then one day she saw them. She was creeping through the woods, moving as slow as the trees around her on her fingertips and toes, when through the trees she saw them, unaware of her presence, peeling off the bark of the trees to chew. Lexa stayed perfectly still. The three younger deer had their heads down. It was two boys and a girl. Lexa smiled, finally knowing who they were. The older doe was off to the side, her tail down, chewing on the bark of the pines. Lexa, barely moving, picked up a small stone and sent it flying through the trees to the far side of the clearing. It landed with a sharp crack, and just like that the younger doe's tail was up like a whiff of smoke, and the five of them bounded through the trees.
And then every day following that meeting Lexa would see the deer. She would stay outside of their vision, and though they may have known she was there, they did not acknowledge her. And another few days past and Lexa's deadline was approaching. She turned away and came back to the village, and found Anya preparing for the equinox.
"Tell me everything," Anya said at once, stopping what she was doing. And Lexa did. She told Anya about the herd, every detail from the brother deer who would occasionally bicker to the older doe with the poor leg. "Clearly that is your target," Anya commented when Lexa finished.
"Yes," Lexa replied. "She is."
"You will take your spear tomorrow and nothing else. I expect you to return with her by the end of the day," Anya said. "Be fast. The equinox approaches the day after tomorrow."
Lexa nodded, and that night she slept with the other sekons for the first time in a week. They all clamored to know about her task, but Lexa kept her mouth shut, only telling Costia late that night when everyone else had fallen asleep.
"Will you be able to do it?" Costia asked, putting her arm around Lexa's shoulder. Lexa leaned her head onto Costia's shoulder.
"I don't know," Lexa sighed. "I feel like I've known them my whole life, even though it's only been a week and a half."
"Whatever happens tomorrow, I know you'll be fine," Costia said, gently touching her nose to Lexa's cheek. Lexa's heart soared, and she wrapped her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly.
The next morning they woke early, Costia to say goodbye. Lexa left, and took the weapon she had spent the past month crafting. She knew exactly where to go, as though the earth was urging her on the branches didn't crack and the trees were easy to get through. She approached where the herd was just after the sun had reached it's zenith. The herd was lazy. They were walking slowly through the forest, their ears down, their attention low. Lexa slowed to less than a creep. As tregedakru do, she slithered up the trees silently, until she had gathered herself on a low branch just outside the deer. They would walk past soon. Lexa waited.
The herd followed the young doe, and the older doe trailed behind the others, walking more slowly. Her leg was paining her today and Lexa would ease that pain.
As though time slowed to a standstill, the minute the deer walked under Lexa's tree felt like an eternity, the seconds dripping by like molasses. And then the old doe was under Lexa's tree. Now was the moment.
Lexa dropped, the spear pointed directly at the deer's heart, her legs bent to absorb the shock. Time resumed again as she landed on the deer's back. The spear entered the doe like butter, but it missed her heart and Lexa's heart jumped to her neck as she screamed to see her friend in pain. The rest of the herd bounded away as the world shrank to Lexa and the doe, her large brown eyes gazing up at Lexa as though she was human herself, wondering what on earth she had done to deserve this fate. Lexa withdrew the spear, which had, unlike her heart, survived the fall.
Lexa opened her mouth, "Yu gonplei ste odon," she whispered to the doe, and gently slid the obsidian blade into the deer's heart. She watched the life leave the doe's eyes, feeling dead inside. She buried her face in the doe's neck, sobbing. Eventually she knew that she had to carry the doe's body back to the village. She slung the spear across her shoulders and the deer carcass across her other shoulder in a fireman carry. The body was heavy, but Lexa knew she must bear the burden.
The hours trickled by as she hiked through the forest carrying her friend, and finally, just as the sun was beginning to set, sending long shadows through the forest, she reached the village and set down the doe. Anya emerged.
"Why," Lexa said. Her voice was tired, her body exhausted. She didn't have the energy to fight back. "Why would you make me do that."
Anya looked at her sekon for what felt like an eternity. "Because," said the geda. "Every time you take something from the earth, this is what you should feel. Torn apart. You take lives to live. As such is the way. But never, never take anything for gratitude. The moment you do is the moment you die."
Together sekon and first gathered the carcass into the village and took it apart, skinning the doe and leaving the hide out to tan, gathering the bones to make tools, and setting the meat out on the drying racks to harden into jerky for the long winter. The brain was set aside for tanning the hide. The sinew was gathered for bowstrings, the bladder and stomach were washed out for water containers. The organs that could be eaten were stored, and the few leftover guts were set out to compost. By the time sekon and first were finished the sun had long since set, and the two gathered by the fire to eat a long deserved dinner of soup and fish.
"Tomorrow is the equinox," Anya told Lexa. "The commander will want to know about the reapers. Are you ready to tell him?"
"Yes," Lexa nodded after a pause. "It is my duty. I will tell him and the other heda and all the geda."
Anya nodded. "I am proud of you," she said. Lexa looked up. Anya very rarely said any praise. Their eyes met, brown on hazel. Lexa blinked, and the moment passed. Sekon and first sat in silence, enjoying the other's company. Tomorrow would be a big day. They would do it together.