Author's Note: Another one!
Tsyeyk begins the process of smoothing the wood for his bow. He watches and listens as the clan chief explains in detail how they were going to do this, and why. He's not sure that he fully understands, but he just nods along, listening as best he can. Eytukan provides him with some leaves that are rough on one side and rougher on the other side. It hurt his hand to hold the leaf, but he didn't complain as no one else seem to mind, but Eeki offered him a knowing smile. It took a lot of time and patience - something that Tsyeyk is sorely lacking - but they managed to smooth out the wood for his training bow by the time Eytukan was willing to let him go for the day.
The continuous motion really hurt his arm and shoulder, but he forgot all about it when Eytukcan offered a rare, but thin smile in approval at his hard work. He wanted to show Father, who was dozing behind Tsyeyk, but didn't because he was worried Father would take it and run off with it again.
They agree to finish the bow and start crafting his own arrows, as everyone has their own little twist, tomorrow as by this point Sylwanin has been patiently waiting for him for a long time. For now, Eytukan offers for Tsyeyk to store his stick in their hut until something is figured out for him. The more time he spends at Hometree, the more things that he gathers, the greater his need for somewhere to put it will grow. But for now, he's still alright.
And if Eytukan isn't worried about it, neither is Tsyeyk.
Mercifully, Eytukan let them go not too long after dismissing the hunting party that had accompanied them all morning and into the afternoon. Then he turned his attention to Tsyeyk and Sylwanin. For a moment, the clan chief almost offered to send someone to accompany them, but then Father climbed to his feet, and he just nods in silent communication with the Omatikaya Olo'eyktan, as if reading his mind. Eytukan nods in relief, letting them go without question. Sylwanin shows her bow to him, smiling knowingly, before they head out. Tsyeyk took the basket that she had with her to carry, which made her smile sweetly at him in appreciation.
The forest is teaming with life, loud and singing Tsyeyk's favorite song. He holds one of Sylwanin's hands and keeps his chin pointed to the sky, listening intently. Sylwanin keeps glancing over at him, smiling, while Father stalks behind them, his nose dipped low, while his eyes skim the trees for dangers. Slywanin brings them deep into the forest to a large mushroom-like tree definitely nothing like the ones around it. Not nearly as tall as any of the tees around them, about fifteen to twenty feet up, with branches that have more mushroom heads off of each limb. Father growls at it, his lip curling and Sylwanin tells Tsyeyk that the large, cushiony top of the mushroom like branches are poisonous.
Tsyeyk nods in understanding, ducking low to follow Sylwanin under it while Father stalks around back and forth nervously, not liking them being here at all. He licks his lips anxiously, torn between watching to make sure that Tsyeyk is okay, and keeping an eye on the forest around them for any other dangers.
"It will only take a few minutes, Father," Sylwanin promises with a knowing smile. Father spares her a glance but continues to pace while waiting for them to be finished.
While next to the stock of the strange tree... fungus... mushroom thing, Sylwanin pulls out her knife and scrapes off the moss along the stalk, explaining that the moss absorbs some of the powder shaken from the bulbus head of the plant and in mild doses, the moss can be eaten or placed on wounds to numb them from pain. Tsyeyk nods in understanding, his eyes wide as he watches her methodical movements.
Once they scrape the stalk clean of moss into a cloth that Sylwanin is carrying, it goes in the basket that Tsyeyk had been carrying for her. She neatly folds it up before placing it at the bottom and draping a second cloth over top of the bundle to doubly make sure that the powder doesn't get on any of the other herbs that they are going to be gathering.
They move on, to Father's relief, to a small field of flowers. The flowers themselves were plain enough, a dull green and orange color. The bulb of the flower a washed-out peach with splatters of green. As they grew closer, Tsyeyk realized that the flower wasn't just not yet bloomed or missing its petals, it just... looked like that. Like a little bulb. But the stem for this flower was as thick as both of his thumbs put together.
They take the stem and the roots of them but bury the flower heads as that is where the seed is located so that in a few months they can come back and there will be more flowers for them to harvest from. She tells Tsyeyk that the stems have a coating inside that they use as a sealant for repairing things like bowls and the like, while the root are extremely nutritious and are often used in simple broths or by hunting parties for when they need to be away from Hometree for a long time and need provisions that won't go bad on them.
Then, Sylwanin took Tsyeyk and Father around to show them all sorts of cool places that she had been telling him about, much to Tsyeyk's joy. At some point, though, Tsyeyk was heading in a direction, just following the path in front of him when Sylwanin took his hand and started leading him away, Father moving to put himself between Tsyeyk and that part of the forest. Tsyeyk realized that they were close to where he wasn't allowed to go. That the mysterious Grace and "School" was beyond these trees. Somewhere in the direction that he wasn't allowed to go.
He looks after it, pointing. "Go, Sylly? See with Tsyeyk?"
"You're not allowed to go," Sylwanin says softly, squeezing his hand while drawing him away. "Mom and dad are trying to protect you. It's not safe for you in that direction. Not now, at least. Give it some time."
Tsyeyk frowns, pointing again, but Father rumbles in disapproval. His large muzzle pushes against him, still steering the three of them away. Tsyeyk sighs, brows furrowing while pouting, but he follows.
After a few minutes of silence, Sylwanin, still holding his hand, looks over at the sun dipping deeper beneath the trees toward the horizon. She sighs, then softly asks, "Can I ask you something, Tsyeyk?" The wild boy nods, swinging the basket a bit, remembering a few swings later that he shouldn't. He flinches, catching Sylwanin's thin smile at getting caught.
She waits a few minutes, leading them toward Hometree, before asking, voice still soft, "Can the Great Mother feel?"
Tsyeyk looks at her, tilting his head. "Mother?"
Sylwanin nods. "Does she feel everything around her? Like, from the earth and the trees? Does she feel these things?"
Tsyeyk looks around, wondering that himself. He looks down at his feet, at the way his toes sink into the dirt and loose foliage. He thinks about how she is always with him, wrapped around him like an all-encompassing hug. She was all around him. So, could she feel everything? From the dirt? From the trees? Like he could feel everything from his skin?
"If someone dug up the ground, or burned down the trees, does she feel it?" Sylwanin asks softly. "Does it hurt her?"
Hurt her? Did that hurt her? He didn't know. Mother never told him. But it must, right? If it was a lot? Tsyeyk could scratch his skin and it wouldn't hurt, so maybe it had to be a lot of it. But he doesn't really know. He never asked her before.
"No know," Tsyeyk admits, looking over at Sylwanin. "Mother not do the words for that."
Sylwanin chews on her lower lip for a long time. Father stares at her through half-lidded eyes, contemplating her words, but doesn't meet Tsyeyk's eyes when he leans closer to the albino palulukan. Tsyeyk pouts again at being brushed off.
As the sky darkens more and more, and the forest transitions to light, Sylwanin says, "Little bits here and there probably don't matter, but let's say that it's a lot. A lot of ground being torn up, trees knocked down. A lot. As far as the eye can see."
Tsyeyk stops, turning to her horrified. He's trying to imagine such a terrible thing, but he can't. There is no way something like that could ever happen. That would have to hurt Mother. And just thinking about it is horrific. Why is she doing this? Why is she asking him this? What would ever make her think of something so scary? No one could hurt Mother that way, it was just too cruel to think about.
Tsyeyk's forehead creases as his eyebrows pull together. "Hurt..." he whispers, tears building up in his eyes at that. It would hurt her so bad, he just knows it. Why does Sylwanin want to ask him these scary things? Things that might hurt Mother. He doesn't want anything to hurt Mother. Why is Sylwanin doing this? Did he do something wrong? Is she mad at him? Why would she ask about things hurting Mother?
Sylwanin studies his expression, same with Father. The freckles along their bodies brightening up more and more as the sky darkens.
"Scary..." Tsyeyk whispers to Sylwanin. He studies her face in return, seeing the apprehension there. If it's making her anxious, then why is she asking him? He doesn't want to think about anything hurting Mother.
"No, no hurt Mother," he chokes out through a sob. He pulls his hand from hers and rubs roughly at his eyes. "No owie Mother, okay?"
"I'm sorry, Tsyeyk," Sylwanin says, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."
"Not hurt. No Mother!"
"I'm sorry, Tsyeyk," Sylwanin says again, just as softly. She pulls back to stare at him for a moment, sadness and worry written all over her face. "I'm so sorry for making you sad."
"No make hurt Mother, Sylly. No hurt," he sobs, letting her take his hand and continue leading back to Hometree.
"Don't worry, Tsyeyk," Sylwanin says softly. "I won't let anything hurt the Great Mother."
Father's blue eyes glittered in the darkness as he follows after slowly.
Tsu'tey was at Hometree when they returned. He had been pulled along into a scouting party as one of the clans had been suspected of encroaching on the Omatikaya territory and he was asked to see to what was going on. He found no evidence to substantiate the claims but hadn't been able to go to see them when he had finished with school because of it. And despite the tears having dried, Tsu'tey still seemed to be able to tell that Tsyeyk had been upset about something when he walked into Tsu'tey's arms and nuzzled into the hallow of his throat.
Sylwanin explained what she had asked and that it understandably upset Tsyeyk to think about something hurting his mother. Tsu'tey tried probing her, asking why she wanted to know that when as far as their teachings went, she did. The Great Mother was connected to all things. She felt all of it. Sylwanin just smiled loosely at him and dismissed herself. Tsu'tey watched her go, frowning, but granted her passive request to have some time to herself.
From there, Tsyeyk's days fell into a routine. Once he finished his bow and his first set of personal arrows, he began practicing with it and showed a shocking proficiency. He had good aim and posture, and so long as both he and his target were stationary, he was able to hit the center marked point with incredible accuracy for a beginner. Moving around proved to be a challenge, both himself and his target, and taking the wind into effect was hard to get into his head, but eventually, under Eytukan's guidance, his skill grew more and more.
He still played with the kids every chance he got. Racing from one end of Hometree to the other, with a gaggle of giggling children on his heels the whole time. He would let them crawl all over him or hang off of his arms or neck, never minding them being rough with him. He would cradle them like babies to him, cuddling and purring in joy whenever he would catch one of them.
He worked on his crafting too. He made another bracelet for Uvay, glowing with pride when she returned with one of her own that her and her dad had been working on since she received the first one from Tsyeyk. She had worked tirelessly to make sure that it was perfect. There were three different colored beads of brown, green and black set in a pattern that was only broken up by a beautiful set of red leaves that had been carefully hardened by a clear solution so that they wouldn't break apart when they dried out. It fit perfectly around his wrist.
Tsyeyk loved it. Uvay got extra cuddles for that one.
He went out with Sylwanin and Neytiri to gather more herbs for Mo'at. Sylwanin didn't ask any more about things that could hurt his mother, which he was relieved about, and for the most part, she seemed back to normal. Always so gentle and so kind. He loved traveling through the forest with them, listening to all the names of Mother's creations from the flowers to the weeds to the trees to the beasts. It was all so fascinating to him. Hard to learn and remember, but they were so patient not seeming to mind at all.
Father spent a mix of time at Hometree and out in the forest. Some days he would be there continuously, others he would be gone for three or four days. Sometimes he would be gone for a few hours only to return, or vice versa. Whenever he was in Hometree, he would sleep with Tsu'tey and Tsyeyk in the wild boy's little cubby at the main entrance. Whether he was there when Tsyeyk went to bed or wandered in at some point in the middle of the night. Tsu'tey has since begun to relax more around Father, but he is like the rest of the clan in remaining vigilant in their reverence of the Great Mother's mighty warrior.
Tsyeyk loved his little nest in Hometree that was steadily filling with more and more of his things. He loved all of his little presents, pretty rocks and sticks and even the flowers that Tsu'tey found him that they wove together into a wreath to hang on one of the walls, letting the smell of the flowers break up the smell of damp earth. While it was supposed to be Tsyeyk's space, Tsu'tey was a permanent fixture. Every night they spent sleeping in each other's arms. Every night they talked about their days, Tsyeyk excitedly spitting out words at Tsu'tey that he just patiently smiled at, nodding while trying to piece the sentences together. And every night, they would just sit in the darkness, staring at each other, stroking each other's skin or pressing kisses - in Tsu'tey's case - or nuzzling - in Tsyeyk's case - to whatever piece of flesh they could get close to.
And at some point, during those times, Tsu'tey started to whisper, "I love you," to him.
And Tsyeyk would smile and whisper softly back, "Yes. Tsu'tey, okay? Tsyeyk and Tsu'tey be with love, okay?"
And Tsu'tey would laugh, that sultry smile he would be wearing would spreading wide across his face in joy. By Mother, she had made him the most beautiful person in the whole world. To think that Mother made him for Tsyeyk. Tsu'tey, who was beautiful and smart and kind and wonderful. She had made this being for Tsyeyk.
And Tsyeyk loved him too.
Tsyeyk further imbeds himself in the Omatikaya more and more as the days pass from occupying the children to helping with all sorts of chores, to just hanging around the clan and being a constant presence that Eytukan has finally started talking about how the time for Tsyeyk to start thinking about taking his iknimaya is fast approaching as his skills and understanding of the path of the hunter grows.
It was on this day, weeks after Tsyeyk and Sylwanin's first time out, that Tsyeyk was running up to Mo'at and Eytukan's hut with their daughters to grab his bow still stashed there, Tsu'tey following behind him. Tsyeyk was going to be taken out with the hunting party for his first attempt at seeing if he can make a clean kill after practicing almost every single day for weeks with Eytukan and other hunters for hours on end. He wasn't sure if he was going to do well, but he was excited to be able to go out with everyone - especially Tsu'tey. He decided not to go to school today so that they could be together for Tsyeyk's first time.
"Just in case," Tsu'tey had said, winking and grinning that crooked grin that Tsyeyk loved.
As they were making their way down the spiral to head to the front of Hometree where the hunting party was no doubt waiting for them already as Tsyeyk was up so late the night before he was resistant to Tsu'tey trying to wake him that morning and he was already late as it was, Tsyeyk stops. Tsu'tey stops right behind him, tilting his head.
"What's wrong, Tsyeyk?"
Mother softly calls to him, pulling him to a platform that he doesn't usually visit. It's where the Omatikaya care for their terminal ill. It allows the family to have some private time with their loved one in comfort away from the loud din of the clan.
Tsyeyk follows Mother's silent beckoning, hearing Tsu'tey calling out for him, but he doesn't listen, he just keeps walking. He stops outside of a hut, peering inside to see Mo'at, pressing a wet cloth to an older male's forehead. An older female holds one of his hands while sitting opposite the side Mo'at is on. A younger male is next to the older woman, hand covering the couple with Eeki next to him, her cheek resting on his shoulder, cradling his other hand between her own.
Tsu'tey grabs onto Tsyeyk's elbow, giving it a little tug to pull him back but Tsyeyk doesn't move. He tilts his head, staring at the male lying there on the soft moss bedding. The hut is small, just enough so that Tsyeyk moving in there starts to crowd the space but when he moves to step in, the male opens bleary eyes, staring at Tsyeyk, the occupants of the room all seem to jerk in surprise at the action. The male blinks a few times before a shuttering breath leaves him.
"Eywa...?"
The older female tilts her head in confusion, flustered and awed, while Mo'at follows his eyes to Tsyeyk, straightening at the sight of him.
"Tsyeyk?" Mo'at murmurs softly, her golden eyes narrowing. The other occupants turn to him in surprise. "Why have you come?"
Tsyeyk rests his bow outside the hut before slipping in, pulling out of Tsu'tey's grip. He steps up to the male's feet, ignoring everyone staring at him to focus on the male, tilting his head. Mother flutters like light around him, and that light is fading. He's fading away, Tsyeyk realizes.
No, he's going to Mother.
Tsyeyk's ears twitch as he moves around Mo'at to lower down by the male's head, his wet, unseeing eyes seem to track him somehow. He lets out a brittle cough that rattles something inside of his chest. He's in pain. Tsyeyk can feel it.
"Ey...wa..." the male whispers to Tsyeyk. "I'm... scared..."
Tsyeyk reaches out, placing one hand on the male's forehead and the other on his chest. In the dim hut his freckles lit up slightly, but once he touched the male, they burst to life. Intricate swirling patterns dance up his arms and legs up into his main body and face, glowing impossibly bright. A gift from his mother. A light in the darkness.
The male sighs as all his pain leaves him at Tsyeyk's touch. All the tension in his body seems to relax. Tsyeyk glows preternaturally in the darkness, even his eyes are far brighter than they should be.
Tsyeyk scoots closer, leaning over the male and staring down at him as the older woman starts to cry, softly.
"Please..." she whispers, but Tsyeyk doesn't know what she's asking for. He can't save this male. He's already almost gone. He will be with Mother soon. All Tsyeyk can do is ease his suffering.
"I don't want... to leave them..." the male whispers to Tsyeyk, blinking watery eyes. "I know I have to... but what if they need me..?" Tsyeyk rubs his thumb lightly on the male's forehead. "Who will... take care of them when I go?"
The female sobs, squeezing his hand tightly as Mo'at scoots back, giving Tsyeyk some space.
"My son will be okay. His... his mate, she is strong. Been taking care of... him all his life... but my Alun'ii..." he sighs, smiling lightly before sadness creeps across his features. "I don't want... to leave her... all alone..."
Tsyeyk feels the slowing of the male's heart beneath his hand, the light around him fading more and more. He doesn't have long. But at least he isn't in any more pain.
"Love of my life," he whispers, smiling again. "Ah... she's as beautiful as the day... I first laid eyes on her..." He closes his eyes, taking a breath too shallow, too slow, before opening his eyes again. "Almost sixty years... I have been blessed, Great Mother... almost sixty years I have been the happiest male in all the lands..."
The older female, Alun'ii, sobs more, nuzzling the male's hand. The young man leans into her, closing his eyes as tears stream down his cheeks. Eeki presses closer, peppering a series of kisses into his shoulder and whispering soft words of comfort and love to him.
"I know..." the male says, looking at Tsyeyk with such clarity, like the Great Mother gifted him his sight once more. "I know I have to. I'm... scared. I just want them... taken care of... I wish... I wanted to have... more time..." Another shaky, unstable breath that takes too long. "You'll tell her, won't you..? Tell my Alun'ii that I love her? I've been asleep... for so long. She is my heart. Everything I could have ever wanted in a mate. A partner. A mother to our beautiful boy. Every word she has spoken, every breath she has taken, I... I have heard it all... even when I couldn't tell... her. I always... heard."
"I know, my mate," the old female says, voice wavering with emotion. "I never doubted for a moment. I knew you would be listening... I knew you would be there."
The male blinks, eyes sliding around, unseeing. "Oh... my beautiful Alun'ii... Oh how I wish a thousand lifetimes with you, exactly like the one we lived." He turns to Tsyeyk. "You'll tell her, won't you? Tell her... that it is alright..? No matter what... I will be with her. Every day until we meet again. That I will be the breeze across her cheek... the leaves... in her hair... the smile... on her lips. It will... all... be me..."
A sob rips from the female as she bends over her mate, holding his hand to her chest as she cries. Her son rubs at her back with one hand, pressing his cheek to her shoulder as she sobs brokenly, mourning the loss of her mate as he fades from her more and more.
Tsyeyk feels the male's heart slow, feels Mother pull gently on the male, bringing him to her more and more. His light fades away, bit by bit. Tsyeyk leans closer, staring into the male's eyes. The lights under his skin almost seem to brighten as bits of Mother - atokirina - float down around them, resting on the top of Tsyeyk's head and on the back of both of his hands. The male's freckles dim more, but his pupils turn to pinpricks as if he was staring into a bright light.
"I love... her..." he whispers, more breath than voice. Tsyeyk nods slowly in understanding. "I just... want her... to be... happy... forever..." Another breath rattles his chest as his eyes drift closed. "Will you... protect... her..?" he asks softly.
"Yes," Tsyeyk says, leaning down to press a kiss to each of his closed eyes as the light fades from the male. "Will see you, on the wind, in the leaves, as a smile..."
A thin smile crosses the male's lips for a single breath before his lungs empty and the last of the light in his freckles bleeds out of him. Dozens of small bugs with glowing lights all over their small frames' land all across the male's body as if absorbing his light into them.
And just like that, he's gone.
Alun'ii sobs brokenly, cradling his hand to her chest. Tsyeyk carefully peels his hands from the male, cupping his hands so that all the bugs can fly onto his palms and arms, the atokirina lifting up into the air, swimming around them. He turns to the entrance of the hut to see Tsu'tey and Eytukan there, watching silently. Both staring at the scene in muted awe, and grim understanding. Making a gesture of final farewell to their fallen clansmen as Tsyeyk carefully makes his way around Mo'at, who climbs to her feet to follow him out of the hut.
Eeki watches him go, her eyes bright in sadness and pain, but also thankful. She bows her head to Tsyeyk has he passes, but keeps her hands on her mate, as if she could force comfort into him with her hands alone.
Instead of talking like it looked like Eytukan and Tsu'tey wanted to, Tsyeyk makes his way down the spiral, careful to not jar the bugs along his arms. He keeps his eyes trained on the bugs as if they would fall off of him if he wasn't paying attention, seeing the hunting party in his peripheral as he passed. But he doesn't stop walking until he's outside of Hometree, the crips morning air burning his lungs as he sucks in a deep breath, then, Mother calls the bugs to her, and they flutter away from him, taking the bright light of Tsyeyk's skin with him, having his eyes and freckles, and the intricate swirls on his skin to fade to normal once more.
Tsyeyk stands there for a long moment, just taking in the quiet, cool morning, letting the feeling of death wash over him for a long few beats before letting it wash over him once more and then away. He sucks in a slow, deep breath, then lets it out, turning around to see Tsu'tey, Mo'at, Eytukan and the hunting party all staring at him. Tsu'tey is holding his bow, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Tsyeyk..." he whispers, studying his face.
Tsyeyk smiles at him, holding out a hand for his bow, which Tsu'tey passes over to him, before looking at Eytukan. "Go?" He nods towards the forest. "Go? Hunt?" He tilts his head innocently, blinking big golden eyes.
"You..." Mo'at starts slowly, her eyes scanning his face. Then, her shoulders droop and she nods, as if to her own thoughts. "Thank you, Tsyeyk," she finally says, voice soft in sadness, thankfulness, and reverence. "Thank you for giving him the chance to... say goodbye."
Tsyeyk tilts his head more. "Hurt..." he says slowly. "No hurt. Tsyeyk take. He go to with Mother."
Mo'at frowns at his words, trying to understand. "You took his pain away?"
Tsyeyk nods. "Clean kill. Merciful."
The hunters' bulk at that, not understanding, but Mo'at seems to. Her lips press together tightly, a grim look crossing her expression. "Nothing and no one should suffer in their final moments," she agrees. "Thank you for giving him peace."
Tsyeyk smiles at her, pleased she understands. "Yes. Help. Make nicer for them better. Not hurt. No pain. Mother calls and must be goes." Invoking the Great Mother calls forth her atokirina. They flutter around him, dancing and spinning, before lifting up and away, heading into the forest.
"The Great Mother does not take sides," Mo'at says softly, staring at Tsyeyk in greater understanding. "She only protects the balance of life. And as her son, you are another instrument of her will. A measure put in place. A being of life. And of death."