We sat on one side of the table, looking out over the feasting grounds, with a clear view of all. They too, got a clear view of us. All of us had our hair in braids and curls, courtesy of Bykani. She was gowned in a rosy pink. Veldandy wore a dress the color of peach blossoms. Svarda wore a golden orange. Ildaara, sky blue. I chose green, with the hope I could blend into the scenery. Our little island of femininity stood out in the masculine sea of white tunics, leather pants, boots, and bright, ravenous eyes.
First, young men would come up, bearing flowers, pretty stones, and colorful feathers. It quickly progressed to their fruit growing, meat roasting, and wine-making attempts as soon as they saw the small gifts weren't being rejected.
Bykani, the most radiant of us, wove the flowers and feathers bestowed upon her into her hair, like a fairy's crown, obviously having a marvelous time being fawned over. That seemed to attract even more young men to surround her. Pog made his appearance, offered me a vine covered in long white flowers with a potent aroma. To Bykani, he offered a blush pink rose just starting to open. He was pushed away to make room for a young man with tousled golden hair and black eyes who offered her a small wooden cup. "Would you like to try my peach wine?" When she nodded, he handed her the cup and added, "I hope you like it. My name is Gared. What's yours?"
"Bykani." And she sipped, her eyes lighting up at the taste on her tongue. "You made this?" She asked with a hint of wonderment in her voice, picking up the rose and added it to her crown.
"I did. Fruit wines are my specialty. But they must be savored slowly and consumed with food to avoid too much intoxication, as the sweetness hides its potency."
With that said, I wordlessly passed the basket of buns to Bykani, who plucked one and nibbled on it while sipping from the cup. Once emptied, Gared said, "I have more wines at my fire, if you would like to join me...?" He asked with hope tinging his question, his eyebrows raising in expectation.
Bykani flashed us all a giddy look and replied with a wide smile to Gared's face, "Sure, I will join you for a bit." She stood up and walked off with him to his fire, leaving us behind at the table with nary a glace.
And so it continued. We all got attention and various offerings of drink and food by those seeking to please us in whatever way they could. It was overwhelming, their vying for attention, in addition to the smells of various roasting meat wafting on the breeze, blending with the smell of the masculine tidal wave sweeping over us.
"Want to try my honey roasted venison?"
"Try my berry-flavored spring water to cleanse the palate."
"Can I offer you some golden cherries?"
And to all of them I answered, "No thank you... for now. My stomach isn't feeling well." Those who heard me and had edible offerings turned their attention to Veldandy and Ildaara, and sometimes the frowning Svarda, leaving me alone with my thoughts and twisting innards.
I found myself irritated from the attention and my upset centered itself in my belly. Afternoon deepened to dusk, and I heaved a long, uncomfortable sigh as this feast continued to escalate, fueled with home brew, pheromones, roast meat, and merriment.
A tall wooden cup appeared in my view. "Here. Spiced ginger mint water. It will help settle your stomach. I, uh, overheard you saying it wasn't feeling well. This will help." The young man holding out the cup was well-built with a muscular frame and square face with close-trimmed beard of dark brown. His hair was neither too long or short, but somewhat shaggy and tousled. Bright green eyes were framed with heavy brows, and his nose made me think of a hawk. He, like most of the men here, wore a belted linen tunic, leather breeches, and boots. I took the cup he offered, thinking he looked vaguely familiar, but unable to place him.
"Thank you." I sipped at it, tasting more than just the ginger mint. "What else is in this?"
He responded. "Fennel seed and other spices to settle the stomach. Honey to sweeten."
"It's delicious medicine." I don't know why, but the faint blush coloring his ears amused me because he didn't give the impression of blushing youth, but masculine and steady. And I appreciated his thoughtful gift. Where did he make it? At his fire pit, or did he leave the feasting grounds to craft it? That's a fair amount of effort steeped in the cup I held.
His face burned a brighter shade of red. "I'd be happy to teach you the recipe, if herbal arts interest you. I am Cleve."
"I am Ghyskian," I replied between sips of his potion. It really did soothe the belly and I felt better, although being center of attention was still uncomfortable. "You wouldn't happen to have an herbal blend to make one fade from the attentions of a meadow full of people, would you?" I couldn't resist asking.
His amused smile lit up his face. "Can't say I do, but if you want to take a walk away from the feasting grounds, I'd be happy to escort you."
A small war waged within me. I didn't want attention. I didn't want to be around a lot of people. I could get away from a lot of people, but I'd still be in the attention of one. Which is better than a meadow full of people, and so the mental war was won. "I think I'd like to take a walk." I stood and stretched my arms.
By this point, only Svarda and Ildaara remained at the table. With an eyebrow hoisted high, Ildaara gave me a silent, appraising look and small smile.
"If you aren't familiar with the area, it's easy to get lost here." Cleve led the way as we walked along a sandy pathway leading toward the nearest grove of fruit trees.
I followed behind him silently, aware that I caught the attention of those I passed by. Ninian was correct. For all the hundreds of men I saw, there were but a handful of women, and every one of them surrounded by their mates. There were no little girls to be seen, but plenty of rowdy boys of all ages running around, battling each other with sticks and kicking balls made of animals skins stitched together.
As we passed through an archway of trees, I noticed the orchard was four concentric rings of trees surrounding the feasting grounds. At the north, east, south and west directions, two walkways intersected, and it was in the quartered sections of the feasting grounds that held fire pits. Between the second and third orchard ring, a wide pathway of crumbled Aurastone. Even in the fading daylight, it gave off a glow.
Cleve looked over his shoulder to me. "You don't have to walk behind me. You aren't a servant or someone of lowly status." He stood in place as I caught up to him.
"Sorry. I was lost in thought." I apologized, not wanting to inconvenience him and feeling shy about his attention on me. While I could hear people in the distance, I could only see him as the sunlight began to fade away. A hyper-awareness of his body washed over me. So tall! I only came up to his shoulder. Wide shoulders covered in a tunic that clung to muscle. I swallowed down the awareness and focused on what he said.
"It's alright. I just don't want you to think you have to follow behind. So, you know I practice herbal arts. What do you do?"
"I...I brew ale. It's like a mild fizzy wine made from grain and flavored with herbs or fruit." I felt almost dazed with the realization that the morning of the day I was stolen away, I started malting a batch of fat barley kernels in preparation of a new batch I had intended to brew. Hope Auntie tended it otherwise it'd be a loss of grain.
The sweet smell of ripening fruit tickled my nose and in the growing shade of an apple tree covered in young fruit, Cleve paused. "I don't mean to be rude or anything... but you were taken fairly recently?"
Bit my lip and nodded. "Hunted and caught two nights ago. Today is my third day here."
He frowned and said, "Oh. I didn't realize it that recent. These gatherings happen every three moons, and sometimes girls wait in the Maidentree for a whole season before they get to meet anyone else." With a diagnosis made, he continued, "You haven't had time to acclimate. No wonder your stomach was upset. If you ever feel under the weather, let me know. I'd be happy to help fix what ails you."
I offered him a wry smile, trying not to read into his words for double entendre, and started walking along the tree-lined path. "There's more to it, but I appreciate the offer."
Trees were planted in quadrants encircling the feasting grounds. Stone fruit were one quadrant. Apples, another. Other fruit with bright, leathery skins were further down the walkway, with finally a mix of trees I couldn't identify.
"More to it than being in a foreign environment, surrounded by strangers with customs different than yours, foisting their life onto you?" He didn't say it in a hurtful way and I understood that he was someone who thought about things beyond his own experience and perspective.
"Actually, yes." I kicked the sand, turned, and leaned against a tree. Digging my fingers into the bark I said with calm I didn't feel, "My sister was taken three years ago during a hunt. And upon my arrival here I witnessed a Tribute with my sister's name guide a chieftain to the Otherworld. So there's that, on top the whole being hunted thing."
"That was you?" He stopped in his tracks and asked, shock resonating in his voice.
Puzzled, I didn't answer him but asked instead, "You were there?"
He gave me half a smile. "Think back to all present. It wasn't just the honored Tribute Kallon, the Great Crone, drummers, Jeni Tezo and his warriors. There were two priestesses and a priest serving."
Recognition flooded me. He was the man in the green robe next to the Great Crone during the funeral rites. "Oh, that's right. I'm sorry for not recognizing you."
"It's fine. It's understandable, really. You must have much on your mind."
I blinked as if to wipe away my memory of the Kallon's death. "So you aren't a Hunter?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't serve a single God. I serve them all. And I serve the Kaeldish people with healing." With a shrewd look, Cleve said, "I carry more divine protection than any of the Hunters." It went unsaid that such protection of all the gods would extend to his mate.
While that wasn't a thought that occurred to me, it was good to know that one wasn't limited to a single god. "I didn't know one could serve multiple Gods."
With a smile, he gestured for us to start walking. "The issue is if one does something punishable, it's not just the weight of one god's punishment, but all of the heavens. And many don't want that burden."
I pushed against the tree, launching myself to walking along the pathway next to him and continuing our amble around the orchards. "Ah, so that's a subtle way of saying you're braver than most, eh?"
He gave me a small smile and chuckle as he matched his pace to mine. "Those are your words, not mine. I make no such claims." We walked a short distance in silence before he asked me, "Are there any questions you want answers to, regarding all this?" He gave a wide sweep of his arm. "If I can alleviate any anxieties, I'd like to do so."
"You know, I grew up being told that girls who were stolen away were sacrificed to a giant as food. It's quite nice to find out they were wrong. But I can't help but wonder why that would persist. Ignorance and not knowing better? Or some other reason? Why make people panic? Is creating the fear deliberate? That bothers me, but I don't think you hold the answer. Everything else... that's been explained in a straight forward way more than once. I know what is expected of me and the paths I can take."
He nodded, with an understanding look in his eye. "Tomorrow... would you mind if I seek you out to join me at a fire pit?"
I don't know why, but it was almost like I was riding along side myself and not in control when I replied softly, "That would be fine."
Fine? I mean, he was nice and not pushy. He gave me physical space and emotional, too. For all my thoughts earlier about avoiding Kaeldish men, they all seemed to evaporate when it came to this man, and it bothered me. Why? Why him?
Why now?
Why can't I not respond to him? Compulsive to be in his company, especially now.
As the first stars lit the indigo sky, the sound of drums, pipes and flutes burst forth, and boisterous singing voices echoed around the mountains surrounding us. It startled me and I whirled toward the noise.
"The dancing has started. Would you like to join them?"
I shook my head. "No thank you. I'm most content among the trees." Not sure why, but I would rather be around a single, tolerable person than be around hundreds of people, the vast majority hyper-fixated on starting a family with us-soon-to-be freeborn women. This was as close to solitude as I could get in these circumstance. And while the orchard wasn't my forest, it was comfortable to me. They offered a pleasant coolness in the heat of the late afternoon sun.
He studied me for a moment before asking, "An outdoorsy type?"
Tried hiding my smile. "My father used to jest I was part squirrel because I was always in the woods, either up in the trees or collecting nuts."
He tilted his head and said with a gentle smile, "That's auspicious. Didineti is the holy squirrel of resourcefulness, collecting the nuts and acorns then hiding them to eat over winter. Didineti buried so many that some locations were forgotten. But rather than it being a bad thing, it caused the forest to grow as those nuts sprouted into new trees and produce even more nuts for all who eat them. Didineti is important when it comes to maintaining the sacred forest of life."
I rather enjoyed his little story. "A holy squirrel of resourcefulness seems like an important duty."
"Oh, it is. But that's not the only thing Didineti tends. Medicinal herbs are in its domain as well." He paused then asked, "Would you like to join me sometime to hunt medicinal herbs?"
Learning about medicine seemed like a good idea. Never know when one would need it, and when they did, whether someone who knew what they were doing was around. And if things got unbearable here, then I could fall back on my plan to train as a healer and make my escape. Either way, I'd make these lessons count. "I think I would enjoy that, and learning how to use them. If you'll teach me, that is." To turn down wisdom offered was not in my best interests. Besides, a spark of inspiration hit me. Medicinal ales was an idea I found appealing and worth exploring.
Cleve's face reddened once again as he nodded. "I'd be happy to teach you."
We reached another quadrant of the orchard, where leathery bright yellow and orange fruits hung from trees of dark waxy leaves. Even with ripening fruit, the trees were still flowering and the scent intoxicating.
"What are these called? I am not familiar." I asked of him.
"Leemons. The orange ones are sweet, the yellow ones tart. Both are used to prevent illness." He plucked an orange one, and peeled it free of it's leathery rind. He pulled the fruit apart and offered me a wedge. "Since you haven't eaten anything tonight, you should at least have this. If you like it, there's more."
Plucking the wedge from him, I bit into it. Juice that was both sweet and tart filled and danced in my mouth. After finishing the wedge, I held my hand out for more. With a smile he placed the remaining peeled fruit in my palm, before plucking a sprig of flowers from the same tree, tucking the flowers into my braided hair.
Flustered, I said, "I find the flavor quite refreshing." I didn't know if I cared for his presumed intimacy by bedecking me with flowers.
"They're also known to stimulate the appetite." Cleve replied. "Getting hungry yet?" His gaze at me brought forth thoughts of a wolf starving in winter.
Between sweet-tart bites I replied, "A bit. Do you have a cooking specialty like roasted meat?" Couldn't resist asking out of curiosity, as all cooked offerings from the men I had seen thus far consisted solely of roasted meat. Venison, beef, mutton, lamb, game bird of various sizes, and even waterfowl. All roasted.
His green eyes widened. "You want to eat my meat?"
This time it was time for me to blush. "I was just asking out of curiosity. No doubt when I go to sit down at the table, I'll be offered various vittles now that I'm feeling better. If you were to make me something, what would it be?"
He quirked his mouth and said after a silent moment, "Regarding cooking, soups seem to be what I'm good at." He replied, not exactly meeting my gaze.
"Because you're a healer, right? Soups to help mend."
He nodded, embarrassed. "Soups are considered palliative, invalid foods here, so most don't eat them unless they're on the mend or have nothing better."
"Where I come from, soups are the basis of the meal." I replied. Why did I tell him that? Why was he able to work his way between the chinks of my mental armor? I should be pushing him away and not encourage any attachment. But I didn't have that in me right now. As much as it upset me to be snatched away from my family, it was rather awe inspiring to discover a world, attitudes, and beliefs that expanded my perspective so greatly were right here.
"That's good to know," he replied. "Tomorrow then, if you accept, I'll make soup for you, so you can have a proper meal."
We neared the next quadrant of trees as I replied, "Then I have something to look forward to. Thank you, again." Honestly, it surprised me greatly that I would even utter that, especially now. I looked forward to revenge for my father's death, and escape from captors. But, so far, this kidnapping was beyond anything I thought possible. Was sure I'd be dead by now, and certainly not pursued by scores of men, all of which put poor Gristam to shame. By comparison, he was a bear fattened for winter hibernation, while all the Kaeldish men I've seen thus far resembled sleek, muscled panthers on the hunt.
He teased, "Don't thank me. I'm greedy to get into your good graces."
My face felt like it was aflame from his confession. "Why me?" I asked. Bykani was merry. Ildaara, regal. Veldandy, kind. Even Svarda in her anger, pretty. What made me special in his eyes?
"Because I saw you. I've seen that look before, and knew no one could read you better. That was verified earlier; you haven't turned me down a single time. You turned down everyone who approached you tonight. Their food, their drink, their company. But not me. I'll take that as a small ray of hope that the Gods approve of me and my intentions toward you. That's why. Not to mention, when everyone finds out you are the Prize Found High, you'll have to hide yourself to escape their attentions."
"I don't understand the relevance of being found high. What's so important about that?"
"The Great Crone had a vision, and the Prize Found High helped the Kaeldish. So, no pressure or anything." His eyes lit up and he grinned.
I rolled my eyes. "No pressure at all."
He laughed at my reply. "Even if you weren't the Prize Found High, I'd still offer you spiced mint water and soup to your heart's content."
Didn't know what to say to that, as I didn't want to respond to his seeming sincerity with sarcasm.
We almost finished the circuit around the perimeter, and I could see the archway of trees ahead, and through them, fires and people dancing around in abandon. Before making our way through the arch, he stopped once again and turned to me. I took a step back, alarmed as he suddenly asked, "Do I have your consent to pursue you?"
It never ceased to amaze me how straight forward Kaeldish men were; from telling me I'm welcomed to escape, to seeking my consent to woo me. I found it both disconcerting and enjoyable. I thought for a moment, that if this is what I'm expected to do here, then I could do worse than him. "You do, but I make no promises beyond that. I reserve the right to change my mind as I see fit."
He grinned wide. "Fair enough. Were I you, I'd discourage others from pursing you because I will show them no mercy. I knew it the first time I saw you that you would be mine."
"You seem rather set on me," I replied, only partially irritated by his brazenness at laying claim.
"You seem rather open to it," Cleve retorted and I couldn't resist laughing.
"I almost feel bad for you." And I meant it, too. Didn't know how long my calm facade would stay intact. Knew sooner or later there would be emotions to acknowledge, process, and cope with... and this guy wanting to be right next to me could very well bare the brunt of it all.
"Don't feel too bad for me. I know what I'm getting into. While I cannot see spirits and communicate with them like the Great Crone, I do have the means for divination. And I've got no doubt that you are the soul I saw entwining with mine, protected by all the gods themselves. Would you deny the Gods' Will?"
"You are a brazen man." I chided him, taken aback by his words, unable to resist the smile twitching at the corners of my mouth.
With a shrug, Cleve replied, "Eh, I try when the mood strikes. Would be a real shame to have the protection of all the Gods and not take confidence in it. So do you? Do you deny the Gods' Will of you delighting in my company?"
"I cannot speak for the Gods, nor their will, for they have not shared it with me at this time. Perhaps that will change. Then again, maybe not." With that, I turned and walked through the archway, following the pathway of sand back to the dais and table. I could hear the crunch of Cleve's footsteps behind me, increasing to keep pace.
I felt his breath on my neck, by my ear, as he said low, "You do know what I mean by pursue, don't you?" His husky voice was meant for my ears only.
Took one glance at him and frowned at the big wolfish grin pasted to his face for all to see. I pretended not to see it, and kept my eyes on the table and dais as we approached. "To court, to woo. With intention of becoming mates and all that entails to help the Kaeldish population increase."
"That is correct. Everything changes after the Summer Rites. Don't forget that." The warning was strong in his voice.
We reached the dais. Svarda no longer sat at the table, while four men surrounded Ildaara. I chose a chair at the end of the table, away from Ildaara and her admirers.
Cleve bent down to whisper in my ear, "Have you tired of my presence? Or may I linger by your side longer?" His warm breath tickled my ear and my heart pounded so hard I was sure he must hear it as blood rushed to my face.
"You may linger if you like." I replied with a small smile.
That was like a beacon to men who had their eye on me, prompting them to approach me with roasted meats and various fruits. Cleve merely turned around and walked off, which I found confusing. But my tummy grumbled and I accepted a small roasted bird, a bit of venison, and two purple-red apples from three admirers. I only half-listened to them though, until I saw Cleve rolling a log-chair in my direction, to set it up by my side.
The one who offered me apples asked him, "By what right do you have to sit next to her, Cleve?"
With a grin, Cleve responded, "She gave me consent to pursue her. Consider yourself warned. It's the Gods' Will."
With that, the apple-bearer rolled his eyes, turned to me and bowed before walking off. The other two were about to do the same when I asked, "What's wrong? Why are you leaving?" Curiosity worked its way through my bones.
"We can't offer the kind of protection he can. To offer you less for your first mate isn't in your best interests, nor in the interests of the clan. Welfare of the clan comes before anything else. Perhaps by next harvest you will consider us." With another short bow, the one who spoke turned and walked off, dejected.
"What in the world...?" I wondered aloud before turning my attention to the food.
Cleve propped an elbow on the table, and held his chin in his palm as he leaned toward me, a slight smug smile on his face. "I told you, no mercy to any others who pursue you. This is a world of strength. Hunters, and those training to be Hunters have the blessing of their patron god, in addition to the physical strength they've cultivated from a young age. Farmers, well, they are strong and their crops are protected by the gods, but they don't have the personal protection like a Hunter does. But here I am, with a quiver full of Gods protecting me and mine. None stand a chance once I've set my target. As women are rare, they are afforded all the protection we as a tribe can muster, and so none will stand in my way to give you the divine protection I carry. Your protection is paramount. Besides, you'll be doing me a grand favor I will happily repay double." And then he actually batted his eyes at me twice with a wide smile on his face as I sat dumbfounded, processing the information he gave me.
"What's the favor?" I narrowed my eyes and asked, suspicions of his intentions.
With a deep and melodramatic sigh, Cleve put on a look of woe. "Like the unwed females in our community, I too, have been pushed to find someone to share my protection and start a family with. Four times a year, for eight years. I can only take so much nagging from my grandmother. So, please save me from a ninth year of torment. I will pay whatever price you demand for such a treasure as peace, twice over. All you have to do is be my mate." He shed the woe and took on a serious tone, finishing with, "I swear to Sylvianeti, that I will be the best mate I can be, if you will accept me one day in the hopefully nearish future."
Felt the need to throw him from his game. "What happens if I want more than one mate?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders and replied, "Then you want more than one mate. Its not unheard of. Women with a single mate are a minority, anyhow. As protected by the gods as I am, I cannot claim to have all their favor."
"You wouldn't be upset?" I pulled a strip of venison from the chunk given to me upon a large leaf, and popped the strip into my mouth. To think, only a few days ago, that I couldn't conceive of ever having this conversation with anyone. Not even Gristam, who would hem and haw and say that it would be the Elders' will. I knew now he'd never assert himself, and I never realized until now how much I enjoyed this thing called flirting.
Cleve grinned. "I'm honored that you're asking my opinion, as though you're already considering me for the position of your mate, first or otherwise. Jealous? Maybe. Can't say, because I haven't been in that position and don't have the frame of reference for how it would feel to see or hear my beloved mate enjoy the attentions of a lesser man or worse, men. I'll be content with being your favorite mate, if it comes down to it."
I choked on the meat before sputtering, "Brazen! There's no guarantee you'd be my favorite." I chided him, feeling all sorts of awkward from his comment while mental image of attentions from a lesser man blazed in my brain. "Are you willing to gamble upon it?"
"Not at all. Merely realistic. You've tolerated me thus far and entertained every question I've asked. If I didn't resonate with you on some level, I'm fairly sure you would have sent me on my way long before now with that powerful glower of yours." With that he sat upright and looked at the empty cup upon the table which had held the mint water. "Are you thirsty? Want something to drink?"
The venison I nibbled upon was dry almost to the point of crispiness. "Yes, please." I said around the lingering mouthful.
He left the dais, wooden cup in hand, as Bykani came down the pathway, returning to her place at the table, her face flushed and eyes bright. She spun in a circle, her dress flaring out, highlighted by the twin moon's glow, before bouncing up the dais and sitting down with a plop, feathers and flowers in her hair almost falling from their positions.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
With a great big smile, Bykani faced me and said in a singsong voice loud enough for those at the closest fire pits to hear, "Men, glorious men! And wine. And dancing. And men!"
I laughed at her joy. If being courted by dozens of men was her version of heaven, then without a doubt Bykani made it to paradise. "Found anyone you like in particular?" I asked.
"Oh, I've found a few. Two farmers and a Hunter have captured my attention. And you?"
I could feel my face burning. "I am being ardently pursued by a priest. His presence drives away any other potential suitors."
"Is he a graybeard? Or a gorgeous young man in the prime of his life and brimming with vigor? Have you noticed there are no ugly men here? Even the older ones are still youthful in spirit. And they're all so tall! Such a delight to the eye. Makes me want to climb them like a tree as a chipmunk would do." The grin on her face was infectious when spiced with the words she spoke. The men nearest to us chuckled at her description of their height and her eagerness to explore it.
"He's on the younger side. I wouldn't call him gorgeous." My voice trailed off as I contemplated Cleve's appearance. "He's handsome, though. Very masculine. Very big."
"Glad I am to hear that you think so highly of me." Cleve's voice came from behind me, as he placed the now-filled cup by my hand. I reached for it and sipped away the dry venison stuck in my throat.
Bykani's eyes widened at his appearance and she grinned at me, looking from him to me, back to his smug expression and then settling on my blushing face. "So that's how it is, eh?"
That smile of Bykani's brought even more admirers to surround her, offering tidbits, compliments, and attention. With Cleve by my side, no others flocked to me, and I was okay with that. Although if I had my druthers, I would have spent the night alone, processing all that changed and grieving for what once was.
"You doing alright?" Cleve asked low.
"Just tired and thinking." I replied, not elaborating, as I drank the cold spring water he brought.
He gave me a small smile before looking at the darkened sky. "The moons are out. Officially, one can leave the feast and return home if they want. Official end of the feast is when the moons set, and that'll be near dawn. When you're ready to go, I'll escort you to the Maidentree."
"Is that allowed?" I asked, unsure of the protocol regarding suitors. Hopefully I could get a good rest tonight. Since my arrival to the Mother Mountain, I found myself unable to even doze off for more than an hour. The environment, the captivity, the muffled drum beating the hour in the distance, the trying to remember everything I learned about these people so I could either adapt or escape... it took a toll. Added to it, this was but one night of three with the intention of being a worm on a hook, forced as bait to capture a mate. Did Kallon do this too? She must have, before she became a Tribute. It all caught up with me, and the thought of sleep seemed especially appealing tonight.
"When in doubt, ask the Mother of the Maidentree. Ninian is over...," He looked around, knowing she wouldn't be far from her charges. "...there. It won't be any issue, as I will not enter the Maidentree proper."
I stood, walked from the dais over to Ninian, who sat at the nearest fire pit to the table. The Great Crone and an older man with wild black hair were at that fire pit, too. Unlike all the other men in attendance, he wore a leather jerkin over his tunic, decorated with stamped designs and fur trim. A beautiful older blond woman sat at his side, gowned in brown silks.
Bellanian the Great Crone turned her head toward us at our approach. "Hail Cleve Gryvas and the Prize Found High."
The man with long, spiky black hair turned and took a good look at me, his craggy face smiling in recognition. "Ah, there you are. Settling in well?" At my nod, he shifted his gaze to Cleve. "And you, nephew, looking well."
"Thank you, Lord Arec. Good evening, Aunt Gayali." Cleve said formally, before leaning toward me and whispering, "He is the High Chieftain."
Lord Arec reached for a blade tucked into his belt, drawing it out sheathe and all, before proffering its hilt to me. "I return your blade, as I swore."
I reached for it when Cleve spoke, "I recognize that knife. How did you come into possession of it?" Shock bloomed in his voice.
A knot formed in my throat that I swallowed down as I clasped the cold metal in my hand before laying the sheathed knife flat against my chest, hilt held in my fist at heart level. Turned to face Cleve and raised my chin to look him in the eye. "I told you of my sister."
He nodded, brows furrowed. His eyes scanned my face with concern.
Tried to keep my voice measured, without emotion, relying on only facts. "The night Kallon was taken, this blade was left in my father's chest. The one who put it there told me to learn how to use it." I used my sister's name. If the Kallon sacrificed in the funeral rite was my Kallon, then now the Elders knew. Would it change how they thought of me?
The Elders at the fire pit shared a look while Cleve swallowed hard and said, "I see. And I am sorry for your losses." It was like a cloak of somberness covered him at the revelation of how I received the knife.
Lord Arec cleared his throat, dispelling the pall which had fallen after I spoke. "It has been returned. And if you wish lessons with it, they will be yours as well."
Again, it's foolish to turn down the learning of wisdom when offered. "Thank you, I would like that."
"I will teach her, Uncle." Cleve eagerly spoke up, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
With a shake of his grizzled head, the Kaeldish chieftain relied, "No. I will assign a mated Hunter who won't be tempted into inappropriate placement of hands or excessively long training sessions. Your strengths lie in fields other than bladed weaponry and well you know it. However, if she would like to learn archery, you have my consent to do so. We must start drying and smoking meat for the winter. More hunters would be welcome."
Cleve swallowed back his feelings and replied, "As you wish, Uncle."
With a fresh surge of blood flooding my face from embarrassment at Lord Arec's insinuation regarding knife training, I turned my attention to Ninian. "May I return to the Maidentree for the night?"
She gave a nod toward Cleve. "Is he escorting you?" The question unspoken, Is he bothering you? quite evident to everyone's ears.
With a renewed grin, Cleve answered, "I am."
Ninian's gaze deepened and she sniffed the air. "I'm asking her." Came the biting reply.
"I consented to him escorting me," I plodded ahead with my latest attempt to fall into a deep sleep and forget the last days of my old life.
Ninian narrowed her eyes at me. "It is forbidden for any lustful contact before one has been reborn a Kaeldish freewoman, as we do not condone child abuse. I know him, and the oaths he carries. Do not tempt him into betraying his vows for a quick kiss and cuddle before the Summer Rites. It will serve neither of you well."
My jaw dropped. I had no intent of kiss and cuddle with Cleve, and that thought shocked me. "That hadn't even occurred to me but thank you for the warning."
With a nod, I was dismissed.
As we turned to walk away Bellanian called out, "Young Cleve, come back and join us when you are done escorting her. We must make plans for the Rites."
Cleve nodded his dark, shaggy head and led the way from the feasting grounds and the continuing din.
We walked in silence for a few long minutes and the change in his demeanor became more evident. Before speaking to the elders, he talked my ear off, but now only the sound of our footsteps crunching on gravel and revelry in the distance echoed in our ears. It bothered me enough I mustered the nerve to ask, "Who owned this blade before me?" My fingers tightened around the knife as I awaited his response. "You weren't the first person to recognize it, so it obviously has some significance."
My question brought Cleve to a standstill. He stood silent for a moment, only answering after clearing his throat and drawing a deep breath. "The prior chieftain. Lord Arec's older brother and my father, Jeni Tezo, acolyte to Arieti the Ram, and mate to Kallon."
That was something I did not expect. Not at all. Shock poured through my being as if I had jumped into an icy lake, and found it too cold to breathe.
His father killed mine. Kidnapped my sister. She ended up sacrificed to bring our father's murderer, her kidnapper, to the Otherworld, where he was rewarded with feasting in the presence of the Gods. It was my turn to stand stock still, blinking away memories and thoughts and emotions which seem to overwhelm me in the span of a single heartbeat.
It seemed such a cruel joke that the son of my father's murderer took a liking to me and I him, and I'm sure it wasn't lost on Cleve, who seemed especially sensitive to me and my shifting moods. Was that the reason for the strange look the Elders shared?
"You are the son of Ram Helm?" Couldn't keep the upset out of my voice. That horrid night, long over, refreshed and replayed itself in my mind on a loop before the sound of Cleve's voice brought me back to the present.
"I am his disappointment of a son, yes." Cleve replied evenly. "If this changes everything for you, I respect that. But I sincerely hope you won't hold me responsible for things I had absolutely no part of." His eyes were awash in sadness as he probed my gaze.
So many warring emotions clashed within me. I was upset. Hurt. Angry. I witnessed the funeral of my sister, her kidnapper--my father's murderer and then gave permission for his son to court me. If I took Cleve to mate, the blood of that murderer would flow in my children's veins. Overwhelmed with the past few day's events, I felt my legs weaken and started to collapse.
Cleve caught me as I started to go down, and braced me tightly against him. The sensation of his muscles shifting under his clothing as he supported me did not go unnoticed. My mouth went dry as he said, "None of that, now."
"Don't tell me how to feel or act!" I raged then pushed away from him, angry at everything but him, personally. I drew a deep, staggered breath to clear my thoughts. "I shouldn't have yelled. I'm not mad at you, specifically. Just... yet another shift in perspective I have to adjust to, again. I am so tired of it. Will it ever stop?"
He frowned. "I truly am sorry for your losses, though. You have been impacted harder than most, and I am deeply sorry that my family and people have brought this upon you."
"You don't need to apologize. You aren't a Hunter, you didn't steal my sister or kill my father." I trudged along with leaden legs, hoping that I headed in the right direction. Cleve walked along, looking ready to catch me again if I were to fall.
"You are generous in overlooking my role in your sister's last duty." He said it quietly, gently, and with restrained emotion.
Yeah, I was trying not to think of that. Oh well. With another deep sigh, I responded. "I was once told as a child that we all have our roles to play. You merely played yours as she played hers. I saw her consent. I saw her lack of fear. There is nothing to be sorry for or to apologize about. I simply hope there are no more revelations which hurt the heart and mind anytime soon in my foreseeable future. Is peace of mind too much to ask?" Swallowing back another knot growing in my throat, I felt tears burning in my eyes and it upset me to be so damn weak in front of others.
But the dam broke and so did my resolve. "If I have one regret, its that I didn't get to tell my sister that I love her and missed her." Tears poured down my face and I wiped them away with my hands. "I was so close to her and I wasn't sure it was her, and then she was gone. And now I'm certain it was her. But I didn't recognize my own sister. I feel like I failed her. Who doesn't recognize their own sister? Who watches their own sister die and sit quietly by, watching?" Ragged breaths tore through me. I was so close to reuniting with her and the upset at being so near yet far away choked me with the knot growing in my throat. Three deep breaths later and I felt calm starting to return as I buried the hurt within me deeper with every step I took, unwilling to stagnate further.
Cleve nodded and asked me with compassion evident in his voice, "Will you be able to sleep tonight?"
With a shrug of my shoulders I replied, "Probably not. But that isn't anything new."
"Do you often have issues with sleep?" He looked deep into my eyes and I felt a flicker of something unsettling deep inside. I broke the gaze first, to look at the twin moons, twinkling stars and the milky sky river above.
"Ever since my sister was taken and my father died. And then my mother died." There was no reason to lie to him. He wants to pursue me? That means all of me, every last grumpy, unhappy bit. Perhaps getting to know that side of me would drive him away. Perhaps not.
It was what it was.
Cleve looked thoughtful for a moment before scratching his beard and asking, "Would you like a tonic or tincture to help you rest?"
I thought about it for a moment before nodding. A full night of sleep sounded marvelous.
Couldn't escape his gaze. "How heavy of a sleep do you want?"
"I don't want to wake up until morning light."
Cleve smiled. "Then I have just the thing. We'll take a short detour to my shop."
With a deep breath, I swept away my unpleasant thoughts for now, to focus on getting relief from being soul tired. "You have a shop?"
"An apothecary, yes. And a space for minor surgeries, although those are a rarity. Mostly setting bones and stitching wounds."
He headed on a path which took us north, between the craggy breasts of the Mother Mountain. Halfway up the western peak, he gestured to the area filled with a wide, cobbled area and dozens of shops built into the mountainside itself among various stairways and balconies leading every which way.
"This is the market of Gaelid Kael. You'll notice the square shape. That side, is textiles. Leathers, cloth, clothes, shoes, that sort of stuff. Over there, is various non-edible supplies. Rope, nails, timber, tools, amulets, jewelry, things of that nature. And that side is preserved foods, mostly for travelers and Hunters. This side is non-foodstuffs and specialty shops. Mine is right over here. The open area in the center is for farmers to sell their produce."
Pots overflowing with plants lined his storefront, with only the covered doorway devoid of greenery. Inside, a counter divided the space, with the back wall being a huge collection of drawers of various sizes and shelves holding various bottles, jars, and crocks. In one corner bereft of any drawers and shelves, a small clay stove sat, graying embers burning inside. Hanging from the walls and ceiling, herbs in various states of dryness. Aurastone lit the whole space to a daytime glow, the light unobscured by the thin vines with long, crystal clear leaves clinging to the walls.
Cleve hopped the counter and started pulling various things out of drawers. A pinch of this, a handful of that, a few sprinkles of something else, all ground together in a large black mortar and pestle. "This will take a few days to get up to potency before you can take it. But don't worry, I have a tincture you can use in the meantime. It might not be as effective as the tonic, but should help you get some rest."
As he ground away, I inquired, "Can I ask you about something you mentioned earlier?"
He looked up at me with a smile on his face, his attention no longer on his medicine-making. "Absolutely."
My mouth formed various shapes before I asked, "Why was you father disappointed in you?" I didn't see any obvious fault, other than being brazen, that would disappoint a parent. But then again, I don't really know him or Kaeldish customs, do I?
His lips quirked into a wry smile as he refocused on the herbs he was grinding. "Ah, that. There's a couple reasons, but let's just say the one that comes in second place is because I am not a Hunter. I didn't train for it. Instead of sword lessons, I wandered the forest, plucking plants, giving them to my grandmother. She taught me healing. Had I picked up a war hammer rather than a pestle, his opinion about me would have changed for the better, no doubt. I failed his aspirations of following in his footsteps as a warrior and leader. Had I been a Hunter, I would be next in line for chieftain, upon consensus of the clan. I failed him in that regard, and he could never forget it. The main reason I was a disappointment to him is that he wanted the sublime honor of having only daughters; something that would show the Gods favored him most of all. My birth denied him that wee bit of joy. There was precious little I could do to change his opinion of me, but I did what I could to have the honor he desperately wanted me to possess."
Softly I asked, "What did you have to do?" Curiosity nibbled at my mind as to what caused Cleve's voice to turn noticeably bitter.
He didn't answer me outright, instead intently staring at the herbs he pulverized, touching a finger to them and then rub said finger against his thumb, judging the fineness of the herbs before grinding them more. "The Kaeldish revere honor in various forms. Personal honor. Divine honor. Social honor. Hunter's honor. Mother's honor. Fathering a daughter honor. A traditional Kaeldish man possesses at least three-- even farmers receive divine honor on their crops. Divine honor and Hunter's honor blend into a special, elite recognition when a Hunter pledges themselves to a God. They receive the divine imprint as a sign of honor that the God recognizes the Hunter as worthy to bestow such protection. Healers aren't Hunters and don't get that sort of protection or recognition of honor."
"But a priest would?" I interjected questioningly.
"Correct. A priest of Sylvianeti carries the most divine protection, as all Gods are imprinted on his body. So, based on the amount of honor the Gods have bestowed upon me, I redeemed myself slightly in my Father's eyes. Helped that I'm a fair archer. Not enough to coax him from dejection due to his sword-scorning weakling son, but enough that he could accept that I did have some honor and would serve and protect the Kaeldish with dignity. Once, though, he did thank me for learning healing. It was unexpected of him, considering the scowl he always had whenever he saw my imprints."
"What does it take to become such a priest?"
He gave a bark of laughter devoid of humor. "Training and initiation, neither of which were pleasant to experience or behold." His nose wrinkled. "The part I can tell you about is that the divine imprints don't just show up after uttering some incantation. They are branded into the flesh. Runes binding one to the land and for use of its mana, carved into the skin with a sacred knife that burns red hot, ice made from magic must be used to cool it as it enters the flesh. It is painful, bloody, and highly unpleasant, lasting for two days and one night. Not many survive. The fact I did is what helped redeem me somewhat is my father's eyes."
"Do you get anything out of it, besides honor and divine protection?" I asked without really thinking. I was shocked to find out beneath the white linen tunic Cleve wore, his flesh had been carved and branded. It upset me. To be tortured for so long, not knowing if in the end one would even survive... it bothered me greatly and I felt admiration for Cleve's strength.
"Of course I do. There's much satisfaction in serving others. To help others, that, I feel is beyond importance. I help mend the hurt and ailing. I help transition those past the mortal life and physical plane, to the Otherworld and into their ancestors care. I am a sacred protector and guardian of the Mother Mountain. I accept this as my role in this incarnation and I am satisfied with it."
"So satisfied with your lot you begged a favor of me to relieve you from another year of nagging from your grandmother? But in this, aren't I doing the helping instead of you?" I asked with a teasing note in my voice, trying to lighten the mood I felt over take me.
"You say that like it's a bad or tawdry thing. Well yes, you are the helper, and I heartily thank you for it. But I can't help that it makes me happy to see others do well when I've given what assistance I can to them." Cleve finished grinding the mixture and sifted it into a small earthen crock, which he topped with some liquid out of a dark colored bottle, and a generous glop of dark honey from a different jar. Corking it and then dripping molten beeswax upon the cork to fully seal it, Cleve looked like he was almost done. But no, he shook the crock until satisfied that the ingredients were well mixed.
"This will take three days to brew. Shake it every day until it's ready. To administer, a single spoonful at bedtime is the dose. Tonight, use this." He reached for a tiny black bottle with a tall cork. He pulled he cork and I could see a tiny rod attached from the lid's bottom, which held a fat drop on it's end. "This is Ghost Pipe Flower tincture. It's considered one of our most sacred plants. It heals with sleep, but at very large doses causes vivid dreams and visions. Esoteric uses include traveling in the Ethers and past life recall. Grants good dreams from what I have heard. Three drops is all you need to induce sleep."
"Is there a possibility to take too much?" I asked, concerned that the potential was there.
He held the tincture up and as far away from he as he could as he inquired, "Do you intend on deliberately taking more than the recommended dosage?"
Offended, I replied, "I wasn't planning on it, but one can't rule it out, either, when one doesn't know how it will affect them, can they? I have no intention to harm myself, if that's what worries you."
Cleve relaxed. "Even if you drank the whole bottle, you would only go into a deep dreamstate and stay there until your body processed the tincture. Can't say if one would be exposed to happy dreams or nightmares in that state. But for safety's sake, please stick with the recommended dosage. If you find you cannot sleep within an hour, you may add two more drops, not to exceed ten drops total. Anything above sixteen drops is esoteric territory." With that said, he thrust the small crock of tonic and the now-closed tincture bottle into my grasp before frowning. As I had no belt, I held the knife in my hands, leaving only one hand free for the medicines.
I looked at the knife. The anger, resentment, and revenge it once held bubbled in my brain for a flashing moment before feeling foreign to me. I wasn't sure I wanted it now and held it out to Cleve. "Do...do you want your father's knife?"
He spared it a scant glance and shook his head while wearing a quick frown. "No. If he wanted me to have it, I'm certain he would have given it to me when he was still alive. It is yours to do with as you will." With a quirk of his mouth he said, "I can only imagine his anger if I used it for cutting bandages or some such. But I do see your dilemma. You can, uh, tuck it in your bodice for now to give yourself a free hand. And on the upside, if you become my mate, the knife will stay in the family. So there's that."
Cleve grinned before setting the medicines on the counter and turning around, busying himself by shutting open drawers and cleaning up the aftermath of making my sleep tonic. I took that as an opportunity to do as he suggested and tuck the sheathed knife down into my bodice, shivering as the metal hilt nestled between my breasts.
With my hands now holding the medicines, I spoke. "Ready when you are."
He turned around, eyes darting to my bodice and then to my own gaze. I couldn't help the tight, unhappy smile that formed when he looked to my chest. "I, uh, okay." He swallowed loudly. "That's not going to bruise you, being tucked in there, is it?"
Tingles ran through my blood, as suspicion grew and my eyes narrowed. "Did you suggest I carry the knife there, so if I did bruise, you could take a look and maybe apply a poultice?"
His face turned the reddest yet. "I did not!" He defended himself. "My question was more of an afterthought than a suggestion for anything lewd. You don't seem to understand that I must act in complete honor to you... to everyone. To scheme against any member of the clan brings the harshest punishment. That is because of the divine imprint. So please, rid yourself of such thoughts. Ask your fellow maidens tonight if anything lewd ensued. I can guarantee you no Kaeldish man, with or without an imprint, would attempt something taboo like that. Until a girl is reborn a freewoman, she is but a child, and to harm children is to bring the wrath of the Gods upon us. Children and childhood are sacred. This is Kaeldish law."
Cleve was right, that hadn't sunk into my mind. "I apologize for my suspicions."
He gave me a small smile. "Its alright. You're still adjusting to life here." He hopped the counter and gestured for me to head to the door, mumbling as he did so.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you clearly. What was that about the Summer Rite?" I asked sweetly.
Standing straight, he cleared his throat. "I said, that once the Summer Rite passes, I'll be hard pressed to be anywhere but by your side to beating away the most stubborn of competitors."
As I made my way outside the Apothecary, I replied over my shoulder to him, "I think you overestimate my appeal."
Cleve shut the door with a snap and placed his hand on it, a bright blue glow emitting from a circle under his palm which grew to encase the whole storefront before fading to its normal appearance. "I think you underestimate how many men remain unmated and miserable, and the power a pretty face and bonny figure has over them." He sounded grim. "Tomorrow will be a blood bath."
"What did you just do?" I exclaimed, my voice echoing through the empty market square.
"Locked down my shop with energy. There are medicines and ingredients in there that can harm if used incorrectly. It would be irresponsible to not erect a barrier. If someone needs emergency healing, I can always be found, and if not me, Ninian."
"Has that been an issue? People treating themselves with your stock?"
It took him a moment to reply. His face betrayed no emotion. Only his words did, and they sounded to me as though they were filled with hurt and regret. "Only once and never again. It lead to the Hunter being exiled, because he treated someone with the wrong herbs and she died. That was about two years ago, and ever since, my medicines stay secure from any who would attempt treating themselves or others."
"Is the magic a part of your priesthood, or something else?" I asked, interested in the glow he produced from his hand.
"The short answer is yes. The longer answer is that it took a long time to build up to this point and I still have a long way to go to hone it."
"What all can you do?"
Cleve raised his hand and studied it. "Barriers, mostly. Portals. Emergency healing, but that takes a massive toll, as I end up transferring my life force to support another. I can create torches that don't use fire. Things of that nature. By and large, non-destructive magic, but when the time comes, as a priest of Sylvianeti and as such, a war wizard, thus very destructive."
The urge to grab his hand and study it's curves and lines for myself washed over and like the tide, rose. I reached for the hand, only to pull back my own. "How do you create a torch without fire?" His comment of being a war wizard melded with the earlier comment of being a sacred protector. To me, it made perfect sense.
With a small smile, he reached into a small pouch hanging from his belt, drawing forth a small stone. It was milky white at one end and clear at the other. "I take a quartz stone and infuse it with intention. Runes on my body provide structure for the mana from the mountain flowing around me, into me, which I direct into the stone with the intention it glow brightly." And with that said, the stone lit up so bright it was like staring into the sun but gave off no heat.
I shifted the tincture to sit atop the small crock I held as he handed me the stone. I turned it over in my hand, trying to see the crystal through the bright light. "Can you imagine?" I exclaimed, excited by my first brush with magic, "Streets and homes lit in such a way, oh and barns. There would be no risk of fires!" I palmed the stone and asked, "Can you make it radiate heat? Or cold? How about pairing it with another stone, so one can find their way. It could glow brighter the closer one gets to the other stone. It could help guide people!"
Cleve seemed taken aback. "I didn't realize you were such an enthusiast. All magic comes at a cost. This magic takes effort. The moment I stop thinking about that stone glowing brightly, it stops. If I use my body's mana instead of nature's, the brightness would hold, but slowly diminish over time as vitality would be siphoned from my body to power the light. It's important to know one's limitations, as all magic, even something as small as this, has the potential to cause great harm."
I opened my hand and indeed, it was just a white and clear crystal with no glow coming from its depths. "So there's no way to make it long lasting without harming someone?"
He plucked it from my hand, and held it in his fist over his heart before handing it back to me. "There are. Inscriptions, for example. When something is carved with intention, the medium carved becomes a channel for the mana to flow, and depending on the inscription, direct it. So, if I were to carve such an inscription on this stone, it would have to have the directions for what to do with that mana, and then use a sliver of my own energy to start the mana flowing into the stone. If there is no catalyst to move the mana, no inscription would work."
I held out the stone to him, intending to give it back.
He shook his head and said shyly, "Keep it for now. When you see it light up, it'll be because I'm thinking of you."
With that said, the stone lit up a blend of greens, blues, pinks and purples, casting shifting lights across our faces.
My jaw dropped. "How pretty!"
"Like you." The words, quietly spoken sounded very sincere and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. They plunged when he said next, "I must get you to the Maidentree so I can attend the Elders. Come along."
In silence I followed him out the desolate market square, up and down staircases, heading down stone paths and under carved archways, until we reached the Maidentree. He escorted me to the large double doors with the pole ax-wielding guards.
Cleve turned to me and bowed. "I look forward to tomorrow and I hope you rest well. Please let me know if there's any issues with the medicine." And then he left before the guards even opened the doors. Was shocked at how abrupt his parting was compared to his attentiveness at the feast and after.
But once I was inside, I made my way to the small bedchamber I was given. Inside, a comfortable bed, small table, and a chair waited. A tall and narrow basket sat in a corner. One entire wall was a sheet of clear crystal. It served as a weather-tight window. Looking through it, I could see the feasting grounds alight in the distance and hundreds of people dancing. Put my medicines and the glowing stone Cleve gave me upon the table. Drew the sheathed knife from my bodice. I studied it, looking at it, realizing I was seeing it for the first time without wanting to plunge it into Ram Helm's chest. Cleve didn't want it, either. Sigh. Put it on the table, too.
All my clothing but the knee-length shift, which I kept on, went into the basket and I plopped backwards onto the bed.
I sank deep into the feather bed and thought about all of tonight. Went to the feast dreading it. Dreading the attention. Dreading the people. And until my stomach settled down, I couldn't enjoy myself. My whole evening spent with Cleve gave me mixed feelings. I felt drawn to him. But everything that's happened the last few days gave me a big heaping helping of wariness. But his mere presence just seem to obliterate my sense of self-preservation and that bothered me. was my complacency toward him due to something in the drink or food? Some herbal concoction to make newly arrived captives easier to handle? I wasn't sure and I couldn't rule it out, at least for now.
Sat up and reached for the tincture bottle. Measured out three drops into my mouth before capping the bottle again and laying back down.
My mind swarmed with Cleve while I watched the play of lights emitting from the crystal dance upon the wall, and as I replayed the evening in my mind, the sensation of laying in the midst of cotton fluff flooded my senses. Felt like I was floating in a cloud, sinking down into it, deeper and deeper. My eyes drifted shut.
As I sank into sleep, my mind stayed alert, in the sense that it felt like a light nap with floaty sensations. Could hear the other girls arrive and shuffle off to their rooms. I stayed like that for a while, before opening my eyes and feeling too awake to suit my taste. So I took three more drops.
And that is when the nightmare began.