《Frostbound - Classic Sword and Sorcery Fantasy》


 The Hunt

    T''aakshi


    Wind howled past T''aakshi''s face, the frigid air slicing at any exposed skin like a blade, the barrage of snow it brought with it forcing him to squint his watering eyes to see at all. They had been out on the plains for four days and nights already. Long enough that nightly fires and the layers of dense hide and fur that the entire party wore no longer prevented the bitter cold from seeping into their bones.


    Still, there was an odd comfort to the savage snowstorms of the Tagayan wastes, hidden within the obvious mortal danger. For T¡¯aakshi, these unforgiving lands were his home. His people had hunted them for a thousand generations, and likely would for a thousand more. Here, they were the top predator, and all else was prey. Sure enough, there were dangerous beasts more than capable of killing the weak or unprepared, but his tribe, the Su¡¯roi, were neither.


    And so, even as the frigid gale of the third storm they¡¯d faced on this hunt lashed against his face, and the falling snow rushed at his eyes, T¡¯aakshi felt at home.


    Today, however, was different. As he peered out across wind-scarred snow-fields, devoid of much of anything besides scattered rock and ice, there was nobody ahead of him. He glanced back and could see a line of figures following his tracks. Each wore thick, tan-coloured wolf or bear skins, with a heavy fur lining, hunting spears or bows in hand, ready. It was bad for the bowstrings, but danger here arrived suddenly enough that it was worth the cost.


    The man closest stood a little taller than the rest, and T¡¯aakshi knew he sported the same brown eyes and dark hair as he did. Even from here, he could see the subtle luminescent glow of the jewel embedded in the haft of his spear that marked him out as the Chief of the Su¡¯roi. He was their leader. A man who had led more than a thousand successful hunts. He was Saamu, T¡¯aakshi¡¯s father.


    Normally, he would lead the way, guiding them through the brutal snowstorm that had slowed their progress to a near stop. Today though, it was T¡¯aakshi¡¯s job to bring them all to the hunting grounds, and co-ordinate the attack that would feed their entire tribe. It was not the first hunt he had led, but the responsibility of it still bore down on him like a great boulder upon his shoulders. His stomach hadn¡¯t stopped fluttering since they had set out.


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s hesitation had been noticed. His father arrived beside him, clapping a heavy hand onto his shoulder. A fur wrap covered the lower half of his face, shielding it from the worst of the winds, but his eyes were curved up into a smile.


    ¡°Trust yourself, Shi. You have done well to keep us on the right path despite the storm. We are not far.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi nodded, the turning of his stomach easing at his father¡¯s reassurance. ¡°Thank you, father. I think we should be there before nightfall.¡±


    Taking a sharp breath, T¡¯aakshi set his shoulders and moved off again through the ankle-deep snow, his father following at his back. He used what few markers there were to navigate. The hunters of the Su¡¯roi memorised as many of the recognisable rock formations as they could: long-dead trees, or scattered remains of the titanic creatures that had once wandered the wastes. The sun or stars were impossible to see too often in the wastes, and they needed as many landmarks as possible to navigate with.


    In the end, as much as all the hunters learned what they could, the final responsibility came down to the person leading the hunt. Him. The further they had ventured into the Deep Wastes, the more barren the landscape became, and the more sparse landmarks he knew were. Today had been a brutal slog through the snow, with moments of joyous relief at the sight of something he recognised broken up by long, anxious hours of hoping he was still leading them all in the right direction.


    Finally, the scattered rocks that marked their destination came into view. Hundreds of generations past, their ancestors had stacked them upright, two stone pillars holding up a larger capstone in the shape of a wide circle. He could not see it, but in the centre was a large, flat rock, like an enormous bowl. A few days prior, a smaller team had stocked it with a mass of gathered vegetables and mineral salt to lure in their prey.


    T¡¯aakshi swallowed and raised a hand to warn that everyone should stop. Behind him, he knew his father had stopped and mimicked the signal, passing it to the person behind him, and so on. As anxious as he had been to see his party here safely, now they had to do what they had come all this way to accomplish.


    He crouched, heart racing, and crept forward towards the first of the pillars, keeping the heavy grey stone between him and the centre of the circle, disguising his approach. When he reached it, he pressed himself against the frosted surface, its cold seeping through his storm-dampened furs and sending a chill running through his body.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Peering around the stone, his heart leaped. Standing in the centre was the game they had come for. The plainsdeer had not noticed their approach, and its hulking form hunched over the stone bowl, gorging itself on the food they had left for it. T¡¯aakshi had heard once that in the South, the deer were only man-sized, their antlers like two spindly arms.


    It was not so in Tagaya. This animal stood as tall as several men, its powerful leg-muscles rippling with every slight movement, visible even beneath its thick coat of milk-white fur. As always, however, what drew T¡¯aakshi¡¯s attention was its crown¡ªtwo monstrous ivory antlers, each by itself nearly the size of a man, their ends sharpened into vicious spear-points.


    T¡¯aakshi raised his hand and gestured to either side of the stone circle. All the hunters besides Saamu moved, filtering out and around it, their crouching silhouettes surrounding the creature. His father knelt down beside him to observe, nodding for him to continue as he was. T¡¯aakshi reached down at the base of the pillar, trying to forget he was being watched as closely as he was, and dug into the snow with gloved hands, pulling up a thick rope.


    Like the trough laced food, the party that had come before them had prepared this, too. They had coated the rope with a heavy smearing of whale blubber oil. It ran all the way around the circle, leaving only a small gap where it was possible to leave the circle without having to step over the rope.


    Deathly silent, the hunters pulled up the entire length of rope and moved toward the gap, ready to begin their ambush. The plainsdeer were too large and dangerous to attack outright, so they had engineered a method to trap them and kill them as safely as possible.


    ¡°When you¡¯re ready, Shi¡ªit¡¯s your moment.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi nodded, ignoring the pounding of his heart in his ears as he returned his attention to the rope. The Su¡¯roi all carried tinder pouches and enough fuel to start a fire out on the plains, but T¡¯aakshi was the only one of them all that did not need one to make fire. There was a reason that there was so much expectation upon his shoulders. A reason that he was leading hunts already, despite having only seen eighteen winters.


    He closed his eyes, blocking out as much of his surroundings as he could manage. He searched his mind for the right memory, one fairly unimportant that had just the right amount of anger behind it. One came to him, an argument he¡¯d had with his mother over something he had been being unreasonable about. He held it in his mind¡¯s eye, letting that child-like, petty anger wash over him.


    He burned it. The anger fizzled out, stripped away from the memory in his mind, leaving in its wake a hollow space inside of him, an absence. But with sacrifice came reward. His skin crawled, and he shuddered as warmth flowed through him like hot cocoa. Senses sharpened. He could hear the rhythmic breathing of his father beside him, and the slow thud of his heart; see the saliva of the plainsdeer moistening the fur at the corners of its mouth, even through the swirling snowfall.


    His memory had only granted him a sliver, but it was still enough. Self, the power he had been born with, filled him. The world without it seemed like a gaunt reflection of what he was now experiencing. T¡¯aakshi took a deep breath. It was easy to get caught up in the euphoria of power, and he had a job to do.


    He extended a gloved hand over the rope, and focused the power to his palm, keeping the image of a flame in his mind¡¯s eye. Heat built up in his palm, hotter and hotter until at last, flame sprang into life in the space between his hand and the rope, bathing the oil-coated material in white-hot flame.


    It flared a brilliant orange, and the fire raced across the length of the rope, igniting the entire thing and enclosing the stone circle with a ring of roaring flame. The plainsdeer let out a panicked shriek, rearing back, food forgotten as it was surrounding by a wall of fire. It span, bolting for the only gap it could see in a blind panic, only to be met by another wall, this one made of Su¡¯roi spear-points, stabbing and biting at vulnerable parts.


    The creature, too afraid to think clearly, stumbled back away from the source of its pain. It was so overwhelmed, it never thought to use its vicious antlers to break through, even as the arrows rained down around it, and the Su¡¯roi closed in to deliver the final blows.


    T¡¯aakshi felt a surge of triumph as it fell without injuring a single one of his people. He jumped to his feet, and hurried across to help with breaking down their kill for transport home, when his stomach lurched, stopping him in his tracks.


    The heightened awareness of Self still had not left him, and the hair on his skin now stood on end, static jolts dancing across his skin as he felt something.


    ¡°T¡¯aakshi, what is wrong? You¡¯re shaking.¡±


    It was only once he heard his father¡¯s concerned voice beside him he realised he had fallen to his knees, breaths coming in rasped gasps, the world spinning around him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ªI don¡¯t know. Something is wrong. Something¡ª¡±


    He sagged as the last remnants of Self left him, and the sensation, the wrongness, disappeared.


    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± he said, catching his breath. ¡°What¡ª¡±


    From amidst the falling snow, somewhere in the distance, a piercing howl cut across the surging winds and celebrations of the other hunters. It stopped every one of them in their tracks, their heads turning wide-eyed in the direction the noise had come from. Even without Self flowing through him, T¡¯aakshi knew that the noise was the source of the wrongness.


    Then he saw it. A goliath shadow, cloaked by falling snow. Its sheer size eclipsed even the plainsdeer they had just slain, padding forward on four legs that seemed more akin to enormous stone pillars. A nightmare that, until that moment, T¡¯aakshi had thought only existed in fireside tales told in the black of night.


    The shape, still half-hidden in the snowfall, reared up on its back legs, and roared again, a noise that rattled his bones, and T¡¯aakshi knew with iron-wrought certainty that he was going to die.

 The Beast

    T''aakshi


    The beast stalked forward through the blistering snows, finally coming into full view. It howled again at the sight of them, a deep, primal sound that set T¡¯aakshi¡¯s teeth on edge. He stood, rooted to the spot as though bound there, mouth agape. It towered over them, shaggy white fur tinted crimson around its slathering mouth, baring teeth as long and wide as his arms.


    For a moment, the only motion came from the storm itself. He had been wrong¡ªnot even in stories had T¡¯aakshi heard of a creature like this. Bear-like, but staggering in size, its limbs resembled the trunks of the great pines in the forests far south of them. Across its back and shoulders, he could make out what looked like obsidian fish scales overlapping each other to form some kind of armour; and, strangest of all, its muzzle was undoubtedly that of a plainswolf, its amber eyes sweeping across the hunters as it stalked towards them.


    Chaos erupted. A flurry of arrows burst forth from the hunters behind him, some sinking into the creature¡¯s flesh, others bouncing off of the strange, scaled armor across its shoulders. T¡¯aakshi¡¯s legs were like lead. He tried to will them into motion, but he could not tear his eyes away from the Beast.


    It exploded into motion, crossing the space between it and them in a few, loping strides, straight through the flurry of arrow-fire. T¡¯aakshi knew he should move, knew he should do something. Instead, his father stepped forward, putting himself between the creature and the rest of his tribe.


    Everything else in his vision seemed to melt away into nothing, and the sight of his father dashing through the snow at an abomination that dwarfed him filled his eyes. T¡¯aakshi knew what would happen. He had to move, had to help. His throat tightened, heart thundering in his chest and finally his legs moved, carrying him across the snow towards his father.


    Ahead of him, his father ducked under a lunge from one of the beast¡¯s clawed paws. He darted underneath it, and his spear danced, targeting the tendons at the back of its legs. The beast roared, breaking its stride to twist around and face his father again. It was unnaturally fast, lashing out with its arms like a whip. His father dived to the floor to avoid a first swipe, vanishing into the deep snow. A second followed, a slamming strike into the space his father had disappeared into.


    The beast moved on and headed towards the source of the arrows still raining down on it, but T¡¯aakshi only had eyes for where he had last seen his father. He staggered forward, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears overwhelming even the storm raging around them.


    His father lay on his back in a pit of flattened snow. Blood frothed at the corners of his mouth, and he took horrible, gurgled breaths with his eyes held tightly closed.


    T¡¯aakshi knew, even as he collapsed to the floor beside the man that had raised him and lifted his head gently into his lap.


    ¡°No¡ª¡± he gasped, but still he knew.


    So did his father. Saamu opened his eyes at the sound of his voice, but they seemed to stare right past T¡¯aakshi, unable to focus on anything.


    ¡°Shi?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here, father.¡±


    His breathing was already weaker. Gasping breaths further apart. His head trembled, but T¡¯aakshi knew it was his own hands that were shaking.


    ¡°You need¡ª¡±


    Saamu coughed, spraying a fine crimson mist and staining his furs. T¡¯aakshi did not look away from his father¡¯s face. He knew what he would see if he dared to glance below.


    ¡°You need to help them.¡±


    Every inch of him wanted to protest, wanted to tell his father that he couldn¡¯t. That he needed to stay by his side. But he couldn¡¯t refuse him. Not now.


    ¡°I promise, father.¡±


    T¡¯saamu smiled, and his breathing became so light it was almost imperceptible. He mumbled something, but the words came out more like a throaty exhalation of breath. No more came.


    T¡¯aakshi froze. His eyes darted back and forth across his father¡¯s face, searching desperately for any sign of movement¡ªany sign at all that he was alive. There were none.


    ¡°No. No. It can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    His vision blurred as tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. He couldn¡¯t do this. He wasn¡¯t strong enough¡ªnot without his father, not alone. Help them. It was the only thought that he could separate from the furious blizzard of emotion raging through his mind.


    Help them. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    I promise, father.


    That thought alone dragged him to his feet, the pulsing drumbeat of his heart overpowering the battle-din in the distance and whipping winds in his ears. He swayed, legs weak, but the bodies of his kin that lay scattered behind where his father had fallen hardened his resolve. They had been good men and women. Folk that had taught him to fish, hunt, and fight. To build fires and tan leather. To survive.


    Saka was closest to him, eyes wide and a pair of gaping tears in his chest. Saka had taught him to shoot. T¡¯aakshi could see the memories of it, clear as a midsummer sky. He took the strongest of them¡ªhis first kill with a bow¡ª and held it in his mind. His fists clenched as the tension of that hunt filled him, and the pride that came with preparing his catch for his family¡¯s table flooded through him. He could see the arrow sail through the sky, even as the taste of seal-meat touched his tongue.


    It burned. Flame tore through the vibrant colour of the memory of one of the greatest days of his life, leaving only empty grey in its wake. Pride and tension and joy left him, and in return for his sacrifice, the Gods filled him once more with power. It filled his veins like a river bursting its banks, a raging torrent of force ready to be turned to his will. Using this power, Self, was one of the few things T¡¯aakshi had been forced to teach himself. Of his tribe, only he could touch it, could do the things that Self allowed one to do.


    Thrumming with invincibility, he looked at the beast, the wrongness he had felt before tainting the wonder Self normally brought, a crystalline mountain spring spoiled by the rotting corpse of a drowned animal. It had paused in its rampage and turned back, allowing what was left of the hunting party to regroup behind it.


    Plainsbeasts were said to be drawn to Self, and this one had known the moment T¡¯aakshi had embraced his power. With more restraint than he felt capable of, he channelled a sliver of power to his eyes, and the world sharpened, every detail magnified and clear. Even from here, T¡¯aakshi could see the shift in the animal, its black eyes gazing at him warily, no longer the look of a hawk observing scurrying mice.


    Good. He allowed Self to flow through him fully, binding it to himself, to his muscles and skin. There was a tightness in them as his muscles grew and skin hardened, changing him into a true warrior of Tagaya. Burning different emotions had different results¡ªanger allowed him to conjure the fire from before, whilst memories laced with pride or determination allowed him to fortify his own body.


    The beast lumbered over in response, but T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t wait. He sprung forward into the air, faster than any normal man, and was eye-level with the beast in a heartbeat, spear reared back to strike.


    Fast as he was, it was faster. The creature struck out and T¡¯aakshi twisted, bringing his spear across his body to block as the enormous paw crashed into him, swatting him to the floor. He landed on his back, skidding across the snow, strengthened skin taking the worst of the impact.


    The beast turned away again, back towards the rest of the hunters currently peppering arrows into its back, even as T¡¯aakshi clambered back to his feet. The self within him seemed to boil and froth in his veins as he realised it had thought him dead. Snarling, he redirected as much self to his spear-arm as he could manage and hurled the weapon full-force at the retreating creature.


    It flew true, lancing straight into the beast¡¯s left thigh and punching right through to the other side. The beast staggered, howling dreadfully as it felt the first genuine pain of the battle. But it didn¡¯t fall. It only lumbered around slowly and made for him with a slow, terrifying fury behind its eyes.


    T¡¯aakshi couldn¡¯t afford to let up, not now he had done actual harm to it. He reached for the hunting knife at his belt and readied himself to leap once more. The Self he had gained by burning his memory of Saka was noticeably less now and faded further every second he used it to increase his strength. This had to be ended quickly.


    He darted towards the beast, feet falling light on the snow, knife in a reverse grip. It saw him coming, raising his arm to strike at him once again, but T¡¯aakshi was ready for it. He waited for the beast to move, its movements slowed by pain, before flooding his legs with power and leaping inside the creature¡¯s strike and delivering a vicious slash powered by magic and the force of his jump.


    The throat had been the target. An instant death. Instead, a horrific wound on the beast¡¯s shoulder opened up, spraying blood behind it. The beast swung a pained backhand at T¡¯aakshi. In mid-air, he could only try to block with his arms to reduce the damage, and the blow carried him once more into the snow.


    He landed face first, with his ears ringing and arms unmoving and throbbing with pain. The scraps of self left in him did nothing to ease it. Whatever was wrong with his arms was beyond his ability to heal, even with magic. He forced himself to move, using all of his natural strength to haul himself upright via some combination of core muscle strength and his forehead to steady himself.


    T¡¯aakshi searched for a fresh memory to restore his power, trying to ignore the warmth of whatever his head had fallen into as it trickled lazily down his face. He froze as it touched the corner of his mouth, and he tasted its distinct copper tang. The beast limped towards him, slowed by its wounds and exhaustion, but T¡¯aakshi only had eyes for where he had dragged himself upright, and the crimson-slick snow where his head had been. He could still feel the warmth of it on him and knew that it covered his face with it.


    The blood of his father.


    Self left him like breath after being punched in the gut as his eyes met those of his father. He scrambled back from the body, trembling and gasping for air, falling back into the snow in his desperation to escape. Suddenly, a colossal weight slammed into him from above, driving him deeper into the snow and squeezing what little air he had left out of him.


    The beast¡¯s claws dug into his shoulders and T¡¯aakshi¡¯s mouth filled with snow as he squirmed wretchedly to find some air. His chest tightened and spots flashed across the back of his eyelids as consciousness slipped away from him. He was going to die here in the snow, alongside his father. There was a large part of him that was just fine with that.


    Then, the weight disappeared and T¡¯aakshi rolled onto his side, spitting snow and taking gasping breaths that burned in his lungs. Shouts of battle surrounded him, alongside the distant roaring of the Beast as what remained of the hunting party chased the wounded creature away.


    The very last thing T¡¯aakshi remembered of the day his father died was a hand resting on his shoulder, a voice like iron telling him to rest and the glassy, lifeless eyes of his father staring as consciousness abandoned him.

 The Village I

    T''aakshi


    Hunger. It coursed through him as unyielding as the tides themselves, cavernous and never-ending. It never stopped, and neither did his hunt. He loped through the deep snows with a lithe ease that belied his size. They were close. He could smell them. Feel them. They would struggle, he knew. Resist with biting iron, resist with every ounce of their meagre strength. It would do them no good.


    His eyes found the first of them before they noticed him, the howling winds impairing their vision and cloaking him behind a wall of cruel white. But he could see them clearly, and even if he couldn¡¯t, their scent would be enough. He surged forward, already half-tasting the warm tang of blood across his tongue, and lashed out with his claws.


    His father¡¯s face contorted, fear and pain and betrayal etched across it as he fell into the snow. He froze, hunger overtaken by nausea even as his prey, now aware, struck at him in their panic. Father? The unfamiliar concept rolled around in his mind. There was only prey and himself¡ªthere had never been anything else. He reached out, scooping his prey from the snow and bringing it up to eye-level.


    Grey eyes stared back. Eyes he knew. Its mouth opened and closed, slick with blood, but instead of the unintelligible bleating of the other prey, another sound left it.


    ¡°T¡¯aakshi, why?¡±


    He lurched back, prey falling from his hands. The world spun but the sounds persisted as though the prey was right beside his ear.


    ¡°How could you¡ª¡° He felt the icy touch of the snow as he sank to his knees. ¡°¡ªKill¡ª¡°


    His hands were warm, slick with some kind of liquid. T¡¯aakshi looked down, only to be met my his father¡¯s severed head, eyes empty and mouth twisted in shock.


    It moved.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ?


    T¡¯aakshi bolted upright in his bed, slick with sweat, and immediately hissed and clutched at his bandaged side as broken ribs reminded him of their presence. Scant candlelight flickered against the pinewood walls of his part of the family home, and the deep shadows it cast twitched and jerked like fresh-hunted game. The stern-faced master of herbs had instructed him to stick to bed rest for the first few weeks of recovery from his injuries, and T¡¯aakshi wasn¡¯t in any kind of mood to disobey the man.


    The last two weeks had been a haze of reliving the Beast¡¯s attack in his mind, everything he had done and worse, everything he hadn¡¯t. How many children would still have both of their parents had he done more? Had he been better? It didn¡¯t bear thinking about, yet he could think of nothing else whilst he was awake.


    Sleep was worse. He spent his dreams covered in blood that wasn¡¯t his, staring into the black, hollow eyes of the Beast or the accusing eyes of his father. Often, they were the same. Other nights, much as in the dream he had just woken from, he was the beast, savouring the smell of fresh meat as he swept his claws through prey with familiar faces until he finally met the eyes of his father once more.


    He had left his family¡¯s hut only once since his return, gingerly stepping outside the door for some fresh air. It was as though folk had been waiting for him or his mother to emerge¡ªat least a dozen people were half-feigning productivity in the street surrounding their home, and a dozen more seemed to arrive as word spread that they had seen him. He had expected the guilt. His father had been loved, and where he hadn¡¯t been, he had been respected. He¡¯d even been prepared for hatred¡ªgiven what had happened, how could they not?


    The only thing he hadn¡¯t been prepared for was sympathy, and when it came, it had blindsided him. T¡¯aakshi had staggered back inside, mute, and retreated to his room. He couldn¡¯t face that again. Not yet.


    A trio of harsh raps at their door broke T¡¯aakshi mercifully free of the wanderings of his mind. Nobody had visited since the first time he¡¯d been outside, and he felt his mouth go dry at the thought of having to deal with anybody. He heard his mother¡¯s footsteps on wooden boards, and the creak of the door as it swung open. The voices on the other side of it were all-too familiar.


    Cursing softly, he pulled himself up from the bed, hauling himself to his feet with only a little difficulty. He pulled a fur coat from the battered stool in the room¡¯s corner and put it on, trying and failing to ignore the sharp, piercing pain in his side as he thread his arm through the sleeves. Nerves set in as he made for the hanging deerskin that separated his bedroom from the rest of their living space.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    T¡¯aakshi paused for a moment before pulling the cover aside, daubing sweat from his face and taking several slow breaths to calm his still-racing heart. There would already be more pity on the other side than he could bear ¡ª he didn¡¯t need to add any more by looking as though he¡¯d just woken from a nightmare. One final breath passed his lips with only a slight tremor, and he pulled the curtain aside and forced himself into the living area of his home.


    S¡¯aahiri and Mura knelt on one knee before his mother, heads bowed and fists pressed to their hearts. It was strange to see S¡¯aahiri in anything other than her hunting clothes, but he had never seen her in formal dress as she was now, clad in robes a deep blue, her auburn hair tied back tight. She had wrapped cream beads around the fingers of her hand, and had it pressed into her heart so tight, he could see where they dug into her skin, cutting off the circulation. Mura¡¯s similarly formal attire did not surprise him, however¡ªthey had always been a stickler for tradition.


    ¡°Honoured Mother,¡± S¡¯aahiri began the words T¡¯aakshi had heard his father say a dozen times over when speaking with families of those lost on the hunt, her eyes fixed intently on the floor. T¡¯aakshi clenched his jaw to hold back the stinging of moisture in his eyes. This ¡ª all the formal clothes, the traditional words. It was too real. Too soon. ¡°We¡ª¡±


    Just as T¡¯aakshi was thinking no sound could be worse, a sob escaped his mother before S¡¯aahiri could continue, and in one smooth movement she had crossed the distance between them and engulfed the two in a deep embrace.


    ¡°Fool children ¡ª when you¡¯re under my roof, you behave as the family you are. Piss on ceremony.¡±


    Any response made was buried in wool and fur, and as they drew apart, the eyes of his friends found him standing only just inside the room, more than a little awkwardly.


    ¡°Shi!¡± S¡¯aahiri said, rising from her knee. ¡°I wanted to ask you how you were holding up, but I don¡¯t think I need to. You look like shit, brother.¡±


    Mura aimed a playful cuff at S¡¯aahiri, who had to duck out of the way, grinning, and T¡¯aakshi felt a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth for the first time in what felt like an age.


    ¡°At least I have an excuse. Your looks are all natural.¡±


    S¡¯aahiri¡¯s grin grew for a moment, but almost immediately a silence fell and her smile faltered as both of them struggled to find something to say without acknowledging the grim reality of why they were all here. Mura stepped forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°All jokes aside, Shi, you really do look awful. When was the last time you ate something proper?¡±


    T¡¯aakshi shifted his eyes away from theirs, hoping to dodge the question, but his mother was having none of it.


    ¡°Long enough ago that you¡¯re right to be concerned. Truth be told, neither of us has been much up to leaving for food. We could probably both do with a good meal ¡ª folk have been kind enough to bring what they can, but even that we¡¯ve only really picked at.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi lowered his head, matching the shame he could hear in his mother¡¯s voice. Food was hard earned for his people, and every morsel was dangerous to come by in the frigid plains of Tagaya. For he and his mother to have wasted any, when it had required one of their number to risk their lives to get, was a substantial source of guilt and shame ¡ª two things that he had more than enough of already.


    Mura smiled awkwardly, pretending they hadn¡¯t noticed the way he and his mother were behaving. ¡°Well, hunts have been fewer out of respect, but a group left a few hours ago in search of some seal. S¡¯aahiri and I can head to the shrine and bring you back a share.¡±


    ¡°You are both too kind,¡± his mother started, smiling warmly, ¡°but I think it would do T¡¯aakshi some good to get out of this house.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s mouth felt suddenly dry, and he took a step back before he could control himself, his head already shaking in denial. ¡°Mother, I¡ª¡°


    ¡°I know, Shi,¡± she said quietly, cutting him off with a sad smile. ¡°But you know what is coming. It¡¯s been two weeks already ¡ª I¡¯m surprised the summons haven¡¯t arrived by now. It¡¯s better that you cross this bridge now, while you don¡¯t have the weight of that upon your shoulders.¡±


    He swallowed hard. She was, as usual, completely correct. S¡¯aamu¡¯s death had left them without a Chief, a situation that couldn¡¯t be allowed to continue. Soon, messengers would leave the capital of Tagaya, Kuchisoto, bearing a summons to the members of their tribe who might replace his father as Chief.


    T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t deserve to be receiving any summons. He had proven he was not fit to lead on the hunt that had killed his father, and had he not been S¡¯aamu¡¯s son, they would almost certainly be requesting audiences with several of the veteran hunters of his tribe.


    But he wasn¡¯t somebody. He was the son of the previous chief. That alone gave him a right to try to prove his worthiness for the position if he desired it. Most importantly, however, he was the first wielder of Self among his tribe in generations. For him, there were expectations from outside as well as inside of the Su¡¯roi about what he would do with his life.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, his shoulders slumped in defeat. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course. I just¡ª¡°


    T¡¯aakshi sighed, unsure how to get across the dread that gnawed at him when he thought of the people outside his door and their reactions, and when he thought of the hunters who had come back with him. The ones who had seen what had happened first hand. How could he ever face them, let alone the families of those who hadn¡¯t come back at all?


    A soft touch against his cheek broke him from his thoughts and he flinched, jerking back from it. S¡¯aahiri was quick to hide the hurt that flashed across her face, but not so fast that he didn¡¯t catch it before her hand fell away.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be with you every step of the way, Shi. You¡¯re not alone.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Both of you.¡±

 The Village II

    <i>A soft touch against his cheek broke him from his thoughts and he flinched, jerking back from it. S¡¯aahiri was quick to hide the hurt that flashed across her face, but not so fast that he didn¡¯t catch it before her hand fell away.</i>


    <i>¡°We¡¯ll be with you every step of the way, Shi. You¡¯re not alone.¡±</i>


    <i>¡°Thank you. Both of you.¡±</i>


    And he meant it. They had both always come through for him. From lying to cover for him when he¡¯d hidden nettles in the bed of his Spearmaster after a brutal day out on the ice as a child, all the way to refusing to leave his back when they had been separated from their group and attacked by plainswolves; S¡¯aahiri and Mura had been better friends than he ever could have hoped to find.


    But for all their support and kindness, it didn¡¯t ease the constant, cruel ache inside him. He needed more than anything else in the world to sit down with his father again, to ask for his help, for his guidance just one more time. To hear that the man he had respected above any other still believed in him.


    Never again would any of those things happen, and deep down in his very core, T¡¯aakshi knew it was his fault.


    Thankfully, since T¡¯aakshi had last ventured outside of his home, most folk had moved on with their lives enough that there weren¡¯t a half-dozen prying eyes waiting for him. Despite that, he couldn¡¯t help the hesitance in his movements as he followed his two friends across the threshold of his home and into the outside world.


    The midday sun shone high in cloudless skies, its light striking the densely packed snow piled either side of the dirt paths that wound through the village, forcing him to squint to see through the glare. The hunt had clearly been a successful one. He could hear the cheery sound of the tribe gathering around the kill and beginning to eat coming from the direction of the shrine.


    ¡°Catching flies, Shi?¡± S¡¯aahiri asked from several feet ahead, grinning. Both she and Mura had turned back, waiting for him to actually move.


    He cursed under his breath and hurried after them, and the three set off at a leisurely pace towards the village shrine. The dirt path they followed had to be dug out of the snow, often daily, and it meandered gently through a mix of rounded huts draped with animal hide to keep the wind and moisture out, and more permanent, pinewood houses. They reserved these sturdier and warmer dwellings for the more experienced hunters and their families, like his father had been.


    As they walked, the tension in T¡¯aakshi¡¯s muscles gradually eased. He was still not comfortable, but the feeling of being on the verge of a fit of panicked, gasping breaths had subsided, and with most folk gathered in one place, he even began to enjoy the trip.


    ¡°So,¡± he started, ¡°how are both of you holding up?¡±


    Mura snorted. ¡°I reckon you¡¯ve got enough to be dealing with, without worrying about us, Shi.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± S¡¯aahiri echoed. ¡°What kind of siblings would we be if we let you worry about us at a time like this?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I ask, though. We might not share blood, but you two are family. It isn¡¯t as though he was just some stranger to you both.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine, Shi,¡± S¡¯aahiri said, glancing towards him. ¡°We grieve ¡ª of course we do. But he was your father, Shi. You and your family were there for us after ¡ª well, when we needed you most. Shut it and let us return the favour.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi frowned, but said nothing. He couldn¡¯t really argue, not when he had caught her slip and had seen her hand reach for where the knife she usually kept tucked in her belt would normally be, only to fall away when it wasn¡¯t there. It had been her mother¡¯s knife, but now it lived in S¡¯aahiri¡¯s belt instead, cared for fastidiously but, to his knowledge, never used.


    They continued to walk towards the busy noise of the village shrine, the excited chatter of hunt-sharing building in his ears like a gathering storm. For the first time, he noticed mourning candles lit in the doorways of homes, still burning for his father and the others, and the noise of them joined the howling of the distant crowd in his brain. T¡¯aakshi¡¯s chest tightened, and as the shrine came into view, he felt his breathing quicken through already clenched teeth.


    His friends moved closer as they reached the shrine entrance, one beside each of his shoulders. Mura nodded at him, and he heard S¡¯aahiri¡¯s voice, quiet but firm beside him.


    ¡°We¡¯re here. You¡¯ve got this, Shi.¡±


    The raging storm inside of his head calmed enough for him to take control of his panicked breathing, at least a little. Several deep breaths later, he knew he was as ready as he could be.


    ¡°Thanks, you two. Let¡¯s get this over and done with.¡±


    He stepped forward, past the two piles of rounded grey stones clad in white prayer flags that marked the entrance to his tribe¡¯s shrine to Ai¡¯nou, the God of the Hunt; and started on the winding path up the hill to the shrine proper, where the rest of the Su¡¯roi would be gathered.


    Deep snow lay across the hill on either side of the path, covering what would be, in spring, one of the few places in Tagaya where flowers grew in abundance. Sheets of purples, pinks and yellows would to smother the hill just as soon as the thawing snows allowed any light to reach the floor in a display of colour so vibrant, T¡¯aakshi¡¯s ancestors had thought this place touched by the Gods themselves.


    It was why game was brought here to be shared. Food was provided by the Gods, and the essence of it would be returned to them here to ensure more would be provided. It was also why his father¡¯s ashes had been scattered here ¡ª to return him to the embrace of the Gods.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    T¡¯aakshi had still been unconscious when they had burned and scattered his father, and this would be the first time he had been here since.


    Soon, they reached the crest of the hill and found themselves on the outside of the throng of people. Happy chatter and occasional laughter buzzed through his ears, and T¡¯aakshi fought the urge to clench his fists. He knew his anger was unreasonable. A successful hunt was a joyous occasion for the entire tribe, and death was simply another part of life in on the plains. T¡¯aakshi himself was just as accustomed as anybody else to folk he¡¯d known his entire life not returning from hunts, or passing in the night from some illness or other.


    But this was different. This was his father. Their chief. A man who had led them through some of the most difficult times in living memory. That people could still laugh and celebrate with him gone was¡ª


    A hand touched his forearm, and T¡¯aakshi jerked towards S¡¯aahiri, her face set in a slight frown. Belatedly, he realised he had failed to stop himself from clenching his fists, and had been holding them so tight they shook.


    ¡°They all seem to move on so damned fast,¡± she murmured, eyes looking out across the crowd. ¡°All the laughter, even just how they¡¯re all able to just feel normal ¡ª makes me want to hit something.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi sighed. ¡°I know it shouldn¡¯t make me angry. I just¡ª¡± he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.


    ¡°How could they all just move on when your whole world¡¯s been ripped to pieces?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°Gods, Shi ¡ª you remember how angry I was. Angry¡¯s normal. You¡¯ve done well not throwing yourself at anybody who dares to smile in front of you.¡±


    ¡°In your defence, you were just a kid,¡± T¡¯aakshi said as they made their way through the crowd, trying not to draw attention.


    S¡¯aahiri turned to him, a smirk on her face. ¡°I¡¯d do the same damned things all over again if I were in your shoes and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Poor Mura.¡±


    She snorted, and the din of emotion in T¡¯aakshi¡¯s head grew quieter still. He really did have the best friends. Mura had moved ahead of them, parting the crowd just enough as he walked that T¡¯aakshi and S¡¯aahiri could walk through without too much trouble.


    Around them, he could see people talking with friends and family as they waited for their share of the hunt. Skins filled with a deep red liquid had made it to the back of the crowd and were being passed around those waiting and poured into ceramic cups. The hunters themselves will have had their fill first, to warm them after their trip into the frigid wastes and replenish their strength.


    Sure enough, as they reached their place on the hilltop ¡ª as hunters themselves, the three of them could take what they needed after the successful party, but before the rest of the tribe ¡ª T¡¯aakshi could see a circle of a dozen men around half as many dead seal on the floor. Two men, former hunters now too old to venture out themselves, crouched over the kills, bleeding the seals into hide skins to be passed around fresh for drinking.


    The hunting party laughed and drank from their own skins, the sealblood stark against their tan and white fur clothes. In between sips of sealblood, they crouched down, carving off chunks of fresh meat with belt knives, eating them there on the spot.


    T¡¯aakshi?¡±


    He jolted as his name was spoken by a voice that belonged to somebody other than his two companions and turned to face it. A woman, her hair as white as snow and framing a leathery face, met his gaze. She seemed to smile at him straight from her eyes, radiating genuine delight at seeing him, even if her mouth itself didn¡¯t show it. Her hand curled into a fist, and she moved to place it against her heart but stopped herself halfway. Instead, she raised up her hand and cupped his cheek.


    ¡°I should say the words, but I¡¯d guess you want to hear them even less than I can stand to say them yet again.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi smiled at the woman who had taught him to read ¡ª a rare skill among his tribe. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you, S¡¯aarasu¡±


    ¡°And you, boy. Here,¡± she said, offering him a mug of crimson liquid. ¡°Get this down you. You look all skin and bones.¡±


    He thought about protesting, but quickly thought better of it and took the proffered cup and took a long sip. He had still yet to see anybody win an argument with the elder woman. The blood was still warm, and the rich taste of seal meat flooded his mouth, with just the barest hint of a coppery tang. S¡¯aarasu nodded approvingly as he swallowed, her eyes on him as though he were a fussy infant.


    ¡°Thank you, S¡¯aarasu. This is the first time I¡¯ve had anything but water since¡ª¡± he hesitated, and the woman¡¯s hawk-like gaze eased. ¡°Well, since my last hunt.¡±


    S¡¯aarasu frowned for a moment, and then nodded. ¡°That won¡¯t do, boy. If you aren¡¯t up to making it to the sharing, I¡¯ll see that you¡¯re at least getting enough to drink. The summons should already be here, you can¡¯t afford¡ª¡±


    T¡¯aakshi heard the splintering of the cup against the floor before he registered the swiping blow that had taken it out of his hands. A hulking figure staggered its way in front of S¡¯aarasu and before he could react, had its hand around his throat. Reflexively, he tried to gasp at the shock, but couldn¡¯t take in any air.


    He swiped and claw at the arm that held him, its owner swaying slightly on the spot as though he were a boat on the ocean, but the grip on him was iron-wrought. T¡¯aakshi tried to get a look at who held him, but already world was spinning and he could feel the strength draining from his flailing arms.


    ¡°How dare you show your face here¡ª¡± the figure, a man with a voice he knew, spat.


    ¡°Let him go!¡±


    That voice had been S¡¯aahiri¡¯s. The man spun to face her and the grip loosened just enough that T¡¯aakshi could heave in several wonderful, pained breaths. His vision came back into focus. The man had drawn his knife and had it aimed unsteadily at S¡¯aahiri¡¯s throat. Now he could half-breathe again, the stench of alcohol flooding from the man filled his lungs.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t there, girl¡ªyou didn¡¯t see! He stood there! Watched as the bastard thing cut his father down!¡±


    The man span back towards him, and pressed the blade into his throat. It was T¡¯aarak, a veteran of the hunt. T¡¯aarak brought his face in, close enough that T¡¯aakshi could taste the booze on his breath.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you, boy? Stood there pissing your britches as your father died, even with all that power at your fingertips? How many died that you could have saved? I ought to cut your throat here and now. ¡±


    The blade pressed deeper into his throat, burning as it broke skin. T¡¯aakshi shut his eyes tight, the screaming in his brain back to the raging torrent it had been before. He was right. It was my fault ¡ª I froze. And now¡ª


    The grip around his throat disappeared, and he opened his eyes tentatively. T¡¯aarak had sunk to his knees and his belt knife clattered to the floor, the noise ringing around the dead-silent shrine. Tears streamed down his face, and the veteran that T¡¯aakshi had practically worshipped as a boy crumbled at his feet, sobbing desperately into trembling hands.


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Breathing was harder now than it had been with the man¡¯s hand squeezing the life from him. Every eye was on him. Every one of them had heard what T¡¯aarak had said. They all knew now, if they hadn¡¯t already. He was the reason their loved ones hadn¡¯t returned. Why they no longer had a chief. Him and his cowardice.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he gasped, his own tears burning at the corners of his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    T¡¯aakshi did all he could think of. He ran.

 The Prey

    S''aahiri


    The frigid evening air of Tagaya struck S¡¯aahiri and took her breath like a sparring pole to her chest. The hide hanging that kept the cold from T¡¯aakshi¡¯s home fell to the floor behind her, and she finally allowed the anger that had been boiling deep in the back of her mind to flood through her, filling her veins like the burning cold glacial waters all around them.


    Mura had remained with Shi a little longer, for which S¡¯aahiri was deeply grateful. She knew how broken Shi must have been feeling, the unearned guilt that must claw at him. She felt it too on her worst nights, even years removed from her mother¡¯s disappearance.


    Her friend would need as much companionship and support as she and Mura could provide. Mura was much better at this than her, always knowing when a joke or arm around the shoulder was the right thing. She would do her best, of course. Honour demanded nothing less. But there were other ways that S¡¯aahiri could support her friend, ways more suited to her than Mura. First, though, she would need to stop past her own home.


    She set off; her face set in a fierce scowl, stalking through the winding paths that led towards her home. Freshly frozen dirt crunched beneath her feet, and moonlight set a silver sheen across the village. The village was deathly silent, most folk already in their homes and preparing for another day of work in the biting cold, but in the distance, she could make out the faint sounds of cheer and laughter.


    Those still out, mostly the hunters returned from the day¡¯s hunt, would be drinking in celebration of their success. S¡¯aahiri¡¯s eyes narrowed at the thought, another wave of cold fury washing over her. Her pace quickened.


    She didn¡¯t live far, and in what felt like moments, she had cut between a pair of hide-covered shacks and arrived at her own. It was a modest size, rounded to match the rest and smothered in a patchwork of tattered skins several months past needing to be replaced. Caring for the place was really a two person task, and though she tried her damnest, their home was gradually slipping further and further into disrepair.


    Stepping inside, she glanced around the main living area, basking for a moment in the firepit¡¯s warmth before her eyes found her father. He lay a few feet back from the fire, face pressed against the dirt floor, passed out. The reek of stale ibi¡¯ato filled the room. Her father brewed it himself from what he grew and shared with nobody. If the village found out he did this, the shame would be colossal. Food and drink were to be shared with everybody, not hoarded like a Southerner.


    In years past, the sight of her father like this would have stoked her anger like nothing else. Now, her shoulders just sank as she took in, yet again, what he had become. S¡¯aahiri stepped around him, pausing only to check he was still breathing, and stepped into her corner of their home, pulling the hide curtain around herself, creating a small space for her to change in privacy.


    She emerged clad in her hunting gear, and breathed a sigh of relief. Her formal wear was loose and light, and gave plenty of freedom as she moved. Yet never was she more at ease than when wearing this. The familiar weight of the leather plates that protected her torso and thighs gave all the comfort she would ever need, and her right hand found its usual resting place atop the hilt of her mother¡¯s simply carved bone dagger.


    It was all the woman had left behind, besides what was in S¡¯aahiri¡¯s memories and today had been the first time in a long time she had left home without it. She had come back especially for it. The clothes were a comfort, but the blade would be necessary for what was to come.


    She left as quietly as she had entered, her father not so much as stirred as she stepped past his prone form. S¡¯aahiri breathed deep the crisp air outside, relishing the escape from the odour of old booze and sweat. She took a moment to savour it, before squaring her shoulders and setting off towards the faint laughter she had heard earlier.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Before, she had strode purposefully through the village to get what she needed from her home. Now that she had, her gait had become a distinct prowl. She still moved quickly, but now there was a smoothness to her, like a seal gliding through the depths, ready to twist and turn in any direction at a moment¡¯s notice. The drinking tent was by far the largest structure in the village, and came into view faster than she had expected, and S¡¯aahiri licked her drying lips, trying to relax her muscles as she approached. There was no guarantee her quarry was here, after all.


    She slipped past a handful of folk drinking outside, nodding back at the few who acknowledged her as she did so, and ducked inside the tent. Inside, the sound of celebration hit her like a club. The shouting and laughter of what had to be at least two dozen men and women filled the space alongside the clinking of mugs and scraping chairs.


    S¡¯aahiri scanned the interior, looking for the face of her prey. Barrels lined the rear of the room, each containing alcohol brewed from any of the few things they could actually grow, and folk helped themselves to what they liked. They filled the centre of the room, clusters of people stood or sitting around tables that surrounded the large firepit in the very middle of the tent, sharing stories of the day¡¯s hunt, or stories of hunts long since past, or even just the day¡¯s gossip from the village itself.


    A successful hunt turned the place as it was now, full of good cheer and humour as folk enjoyed the certainty that came with a healthy supply of food. This made her quarry exceptionally easy to spot.


    T¡¯aarak sat by himself, clutching a half-cup of something alcoholic. He swayed slightly in his seat, eyes not really focusing on everything. Folk pointedly had their backs to him, and as S¡¯aahiri waited for him to move, she more than once caught another shooting him a disdainful glare. Was that because of what happened at the shrine, or had he caused trouble here, too?


    It didn¡¯t matter. He could have spent the rest of the day entertaining orphans for all S¡¯aahiri cared. It would not ease the bitter anger feeding her muscles, nor would it change what she was here to do.


    Finally, T¡¯aarak stood. He staggered across the tent, knocking and bumping into what seemed like every person along the way to the door before stumbling through to the outside. S¡¯aahiri followed, keeping a safe distance between herself and the older man. She didn¡¯t think he would notice her even if she pulled up beside him, but it was better to be safe.


    She let him bumble away from the tent, walking in an unsteady zigzag along the dirt path until he suddenly veered off of it, out of sight. S¡¯aahiri frowned, breath caught in her throat. Had he seen her? It wasn¡¯t possible, surely? She edged towards the tent he had wandered behind, being careful not the let herself cast a shadow against the hide lining it. A frustrated breath escaped her as her ears caught the tell-tale sound of trickling liquid and a contented sigh coming from the direction T¡¯aarak had gone.


    Still, he had taken himself off of the path, and out of sight. As long as she was quiet, this was perfect. The trickling stopped, only to be followed by the uneven crunch of T¡¯aarak¡¯s boots as he tried to make his way back to the path. She crouched on the balls of her feet, muscles taut. The crunch came closer, and S¡¯aahiri held her breath, her left hand¡¯s fingers curling around the hilt of her mother¡¯s dagger.


    T¡¯aarak rounded the corner, and S¡¯aahiri pounced. Her right elbow met the man¡¯s face with all her bodyweight behind it, the sickening crunch of impact nearly muffling his pained grunt. He toppled back, falling into snow like a sack of beets. S¡¯aahiri crouched beside him as he clutched at his nose, groaning.


    His eyes found hers, and she watched as blind panic morphed into anger and immediately shifted back to fear as her dagger met his throat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t speak,¡± she ground out, and he nodded in response, eyes wide and desperate.


    S¡¯aahiri grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him half-upright, keeping the blade tight to his neck. To his credit, T¡¯aarak didn¡¯t so much as flinch now that he was prepared for pain, even as wasted as he was.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be brief. I don¡¯t care what you think about T¡¯aakshi and I don¡¯t give a shit what you think happened on that hunt. It means less than nothing to me. But if you dare lay your hands on him, or anybody else I care about¡ª¡±


    She hauled him up by his hair and leant towards him, making her gaze as hard as iron.


    ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll take those hands from you. Do we understand each other, T¡¯aarak?¡±


    He nodded, glaring at her despite the dagger pressing into his throat.


    ¡°Good,¡± she said icily, dropping him back into the snow. ¡°Go home, T¡¯aarak. Sleep off the drink¡ªit makes you act a fool, and you¡¯re above that.¡±


    S¡¯aahiri didn¡¯t wait for a response. She span on her heel and strode away towards her home, half-listening to make sure he did nothing even more foolish than he already had.


    There would be consequences for what she had done. There always were. But those were tomorrow¡¯s problems, and for now, she could sleep easy knowing that she had done right by her friend.

 The Summons I

    T''aakshi


    A solitary bead of sweat trickled down T¡¯aakshi¡¯s forehead, the moisture cooling quickly in the frigid air. His arms trembled as they held his spear above his head, aimed at an imaginary enemy. He had only ever used his spear for hunting; he wasn¡¯t old enough to have fought in the last conflict between tribes. But as the son of their Chief, and potentially, the successor, he was expected to be accomplished at using it for both hunting and battle.


    Really, he just found the exertion calming. Several days had passed since the sharing, and he¡¯d not found the courage to return to the shrine. Thanks to Mura and S¡¯aahiri, however, he was no longer spending his days cooped up inside, hiding.


    T¡¯aakshi lowered his spear, catching his breath as folk hurried back and forth past the space he practiced in, going about their day. Some nodded respectfully as they did so, a gesture that he returned every time. A few had even stopped to talk for a few moments. None had held the bitterness that T¡¯aarak had, or seemed to blame him for what had happened.


    It was difficult not to find blame in their eyes when he looked for it, though, not when he himself thought it should be there.


    He slid his lead foot forward, readying his spear for another of the forms, when the sound of his name being called broke his concentration.


    ¡°Shi!¡±


    T¡¯aakshi turned towards his mother¡¯s voice, and saw her standing in their doorway in the distance, hand raised in a wave for his attention. He frowned, but lowered the spear and set off in a jog towards her, regardless.


    It wasn¡¯t like her to shout across a distance like that, and her face was much too serious for his liking. She had spent the past few weeks attempting to keep a brave face. For it to have slipped¡­ He quickened his pace, not bothering to follow the winding path, cutting straight across the snow instead.


    By the time he reached the entrance to their home, she had taken herself back inside and T¡¯aakshi followed, mouth dry. His mother knelt on a cushion, waiting for him. Kneeling beside her was S¡¯aarasu, both their expressions severe. His heat sank. There was only one explanation for S¡¯aarasu¡¯s presence.


    ¡°Sit, boy,¡± the elder said firmly, and T¡¯aakshi slumped to his knees on a third cushion, set out especially. He looked at his mother.


    ¡°The summons have arrived, haven¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    It had been S¡¯aarasu that answered, but T¡¯aakshi¡¯s eyes never left his mother¡¯s. She had her face pinched into a worried frown, and her eyes pleaded where her words could not. She wanted this even less than he did.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got no interest in being the next Chief¡ªnot now, not like this,¡± he said, trying to make his voice like iron, as his father used to in village meetings.


    ¡°That may be so, boy. But the summons have come, and you must answer them. You can refuse to put your name forward for succession, but you¡¯ll have to do it before the Inari-da. When they call, you answer.¡±


    The Inari-da. S¡¯aarasu was right about one thing: you did not refuse them when they called. Offending one could mean death¡ªwhether that be by their order and another¡¯s hand, or by their own mastery of Self. In days past they had been prayer-leaders for their tribes, offering tributes to the Gods before battles and hunts, asking for their favour. The stories said that the Gods gave it, gifting the Inari-da with Self¡ªmagic.


    As they grew in power and influence, the Inari-da from some of the tribe met and began to share knowledge. Eventually, Inari-da representing each of the twelve tribes of Tagaya had joined and founded the capital city, Kuchisoto. From there, the Inari-da now oversaw all of Tagaya as the closest thing to southern rule they had.


    It was the Inari-da who would choose the Su¡¯roi¡¯s next Chief, though as the son of the previous one, T¡¯aakshi could put his own name forward before any others. Everyone expected him to do so, and to succeed. Being the son of T¡¯saamu alone would have done that¡ªbeing the first Self-user in their tribe for generations made the expectation mountainous.


    ¡°What needs to be done?¡±


    S¡¯aarasu nodded approvingly. ¡°Good. I always say it¡¯s better to get a task done than live with the fear of it. There is little for you to do, boy, truth be told. I shall deal with preparing your supplies and guard. You just prepare your mind¡ªit will need it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, S¡¯aarasu,¡± he said, pressing his fist flat against his forehead, bowing his head slightly. She waved him away.


    ¡°Nonsense, boy. It is my role, now that my bones creak loud enough to startle the seal. Now,¡± she said, rising with a slight groan. ¡°I best get to it.¡±


    She paused as she found her feet, taking a moment to steady herself before shuffling towards the door, wearing a satisfied smile. However, before pulling aside the hide hanging to leave, she turned back and fixed T¡¯aakshi with a serious stare.


    ¡°I understand how difficult it must be¡ªall the pressure to fill your father¡¯s boots so soon after he left them. Just make sure you¡¯re not being too hasty in discounting yourself. You have it in you to be great, boy.¡±


    S¡¯aarasu had already made it through the doorway by the time T¡¯aakshi had crafted another refusal. Instead, he looked helplessly at his mother, hoping for some kind of support. What he got was a faint smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes.


    ¡°S¡¯aarasu is right, Shi.¡±


    ¡°You think I should put my name forward?¡±


    Her smile faltered, but was back in place so fast T¡¯aakshi would have been forgiven for thinking he had imagined it.


    ¡°I think you should do what you think is right for you. This is a decision only you can make. Now,¡± she said, averting her eyes from him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you head out and get us some fish for supper? You¡¯ll think on things better with fresh air and busy hands.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his lips. He would say his mother was staring at the walls, only it looked more like she was seeing far past them, off into the distance. He wanted so badly to talk things through with her; but how could he when her pain was so clear, so overwhelming?


    ¡°Are you sure you wouldn¡¯t prefer company?¡± he asked softly, and she started as though she hadn¡¯t realised he was still there. Maybe she hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°No, no, Shi. You go.¡±


    He swallowed, then nodded, but she noticed neither. T¡¯aakshi turned and set off, picking up a small wooden box tucked beside the door as he passed through it, glancing back to see his mother unmoved, still staring through the wall at something in the far distance.

 The Summons II

    T¡¯aakshi knew the path to the lake almost as well as he knew his way around the village itself. With the snow as deep as it was, there were few landmarks to mark the route, and those that remained were subtle. He curved to the right after the final one¡ªa black granite rock that jutted out of the snow at the height of his knees like a southern shield¡ªand saw the hollowed-out pine tree remains that had marked the shore of the lake since long before he¡¯d been born.


    He walked past the tree, putting it directly between him and the village, and headed towards where he knew deeper water would be. Most would have needed to bring far more equipment than the small box that he carried and the spear that he wore, but T¡¯aakshi had an advantage they didn¡¯t.


    Finally satisfied with a spot, he knelt, placing the box carefully next to him and held his right palm just above the snow. He took a handful of deep, calming breaths and closed his eyes. It had taken years of meditation and practice to gain enough control of his thoughts for this. He had heard that it was different for others, that the image used to access could change depending on the person. For him, it was a book that appeared in his mind¡¯s eye. He could smell its aged leather bindings, and etchings on its surface caressed his fingertips as though it were on the floor before him.


    It opened, unbidden, and across the time-stained pages he could see his memories. Each had its own page. Some were so startling in their clarity that it felt as though he was reliving them again when he looked at their pages. Others had faded to different degrees, as though T¡¯aakshi had left their ink exposed to the sunlight for too long, the memories themselves disappearing or lost entirely to the passing of time.


    Self may have been a gift from the Gods, but this did not mean they did not demand a price.


    T¡¯aakshi skimmed through his memories, searching for one that had just the right amount of strength behind it. A bright, cloudless day. Sparring on the lake. Have to prove myself, but it¡¯s futile. S¡¯aahiri is just better with a spear in her hands. She swept his legs with the haft of her weapon and bitterness swelled in him. He leapt to his feet, flushing, and stepped toward her, only to be met by cold, black eyes, full of contempt. He could see the glisten of crimson-tinted saliva ooze from its gaping mouth and taste its flesh-soured breath. The Beast lifted its arm, tree-trunk thick, and-


    He gasped, staggering back across the snow. T¡¯aakshi wasn¡¯t sure when he¡¯d stood, but he was grateful for it as his head jolted left and right, searching for any signs of danger. But, of course, there weren¡¯t any. He was far enough away from the village that the only sound was that of his own ragged breathing.


    Learning to grasp memories could be a difficult thing¡ªwhen he had first started, he would often get them jumbled together when he tried to grasp one. But he had never had part of one memory merge with another as he grasped it. Had that image of the beast even been a memory, or was his mind playing the sort of trick it normally reserved for his dreams?


    He returned to his spot beside the box and tried again, this time with a fresh memory. A spat with another child he¡¯d had in his eighth summer. This one¡¯s page had faded¡ªhe could no longer recall why they had been so angry with one another, nor which adult had hauled them away from each other when the argument had turned into a fight. What he could remember was the righteous indignation only a child can muster, and the boy¡¯s snarling face, his fur matted with blood¡ªDid you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    He let go of the memory, and the indignation melted away like spring ice. T¡¯aakshi scowled and set his jaw, reaching this time for the same memory. Beast or no, he would not be defeated by something he had been doing since his tenth summer. He took hold of the memory, and child-like fury flooded through him. T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t give the beast a chance to interrupt again. He burned the memory, searing away the colour and leaving it an ashen grey.


    The fury burned away, too. But in its wake, a tingle of power crept through him that set the hairs on his arm on their end. Self. The power the Gods had first granted to the Inari-da. He took hold of it, channelling it into the palm of his outstretched hand, brow knitted in concentration.


    Creating fire had been the first thing he¡¯d taught himself to do. Small amounts of it were easy enough to conjure with the right memory, and living where they did, mastering it had not been optional. A lick of amber flame sprang from the palm of his hand, dancing between him and the snow. He could feel the heat of it, but despite how close it was, he knew his own flame wouldn¡¯t burn him.


    The snow melted, and the moisture it left behind bubbled and steamed, his flame boiling what little water there was. He moved his hand in a circular motion, creating a small, circular pit, and before long, he was burning through the layer of ice that led to the glacial waters beneath.


    He kept the amount of Self he channelled into maintaining the fire under tight control. It was easy to get carried away when you could feel the raw power of the Gods running through your veins, but a larger flame would burn through the memory¡¯s power more quickly, and he¡¯d likely not make it through the ice. Memories were too precious to use frivolously, even memories that were themselves frivolous.


    T¡¯aakshi allowed the flame to flicker and die moments after he had finished the fishing hole in the ice, but he kept hold of the power left over¡ªhe would need it again to stop the hole from freezing over as he fished. He reached for the wooden box and carefully lifted away its lid. Resting atop a fur base to protect it from the wood was the fishing equipment he¡¯d made before he¡¯d been old enough to hunt. A wooden handle with a line he¡¯d had to braid himself using deer sinew wrapped around it, with a hooked lure he¡¯d carved into a fish from a bear¡¯s tooth under the watchful eye of his father.


    He reached inside, fingertips brushing the finely carved lines as he savoured the memory of it, and then got to work. T¡¯aakshi dropped the lure into the black waters and leant over the hole he¡¯d made to hide its silhouette from the fish below. He tugged at the handle rhythmically, making the lure dart back and forth in the water, using his other hand to periodically heat the water to prevent it from freezing.


    T¡¯aakshi knew the motions well, and his mind quickly wandered. But, instead of his future and the summons of the Inari-da, he couldn¡¯t help but think about his failed attempts at grasping his memories. He had not failed to conjure a small flame in years, and he had experienced nothing like what had happened before.


    He could rationalise the beast invading his dreams. After what had happened, nightmares were to be expected. They were normal. As far as he knew, his memory of the beast shouldn¡¯t have been able to interfere with other memories like that. But that, of course, was the problem with having no one to teach you a thing you didn¡¯t really understand. As far as he knew. Who knew how what had happened might have affected things in his own mind? Were the images of the beast merely the result of his mind trying to deal with what he had seen, or was it something else, something more, that was wrong with him.


    Then another thought struck him, and blood became like ice in his veins. What would happen if his magic were to fail again out on a hunt? Or worse, if they came across the beast again? How many more would die because he could do nothing?

 The Believer

    T''aakshi


    Kuchisoto¡¯s walls finally came into view as they crested the third frost-bitten hill of the day¡¯s walking. T¡¯aakshi had been before with his father, but it was always strange to see its stone buildings reaching skywards with their curved, tiled roofs. Standing tall in its centre, with each of its floors marked by their own roof, lay the Temple where the Inari-da met and prayed.


    T¡¯aakshi glanced behind him. Twelve others trudged along in his wake and he couldn¡¯t help the frown that creased his face. They were twelve of the tribe¡¯s best, and most were survivors of the Beast¡¯s attack. They should have been back with the rest of the Su¡¯roi, hunting and keeping their supply of food strong. Doing something worthwhile. But when you came before the Inari-da, you came with your tribe¡¯s best. To do otherwise was an insult.


    None had uttered so much as a murmur of disagreement. Not whilst they slogged through heavy snowfall and bitter winds, nor around the fires of their temporary camps. But they all knew that their efforts were being wasted. They had trekked for a week, left their families and their duty to provide for the tribe, just so that T¡¯aakshi could reject the Inari-da¡¯s offer to their faces, instead of by parchment and avoid some kind of retribution.


    T¡¯aakshi swallowed back the lump in his throat and pressed forward towards the town¡¯s gates. A week ago, he¡¯d been sick with fear at the idea of coming here. Now the fear had attached itself to a bigger problem than saying no to a council of stuffy old folk, no matter the power they wielded. Self still only worked when he needed it occasionally, as though he was being allowed to channel it at the whim of a pernicious God, and the beast had not left his dreams.


    Two pairs of guards stood on either side of the town¡¯s gates, each clad in black, fur-lined leathers and clutching long spears with crescent blades. T¡¯aakshi approached with his escort, and the guards closest to the entrance lowered their weapons to block their paths.


    ¡°Name yourselves visitors,¡± ordered the woman on the far left, a severe expression stressing a deep scare running across her left cheek and lips.


    ¡°I am T¡¯aakshi, of the Su¡¯roi, and we have come in answer to the summons of the Inari-da.¡±


    The woman nodded, and the spears parted. ¡°You are expected, T¡¯aakshi of the Su¡¯roi. Come.¡±


    The woman stepped away from her post and strode towards the entrance without so much as a glance back to make sure that they followed. T¡¯aakshi could not resist his own look over the shoulder before stalking after the guard, his companions remaining a respectful distance behind.


    Inside the walls, Kuchisoto¡¯s streets were far busier than any he had ever seen. Men and women in a variety of furs hauled woven baskets and hide sacks of produce back and forth, some even dragging rickety wagons full of grown food and crafted goods for trade. Each tribe had its own needs, as well as things they specialised in making or producing, and Kuchisoto was where they came to do it safely, under the watchful eye of the Inari-da.


    His father had once told him that, whilst hunters were never to be parted from the tools of their trade, to draw a weapon here was punishable by death. T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t doubt it. Even tribes who were in conflict in their own territories traded safely with each other here, albeit with barbed words forced through gritted teeth.


    Beyond that, the Tagayan capital really wasn¡¯t all too different from the settlements his own tribe called home. The stone buildings replaced the Su¡¯roi¡¯s wooden huts, but he could still identify the same carved ivory figurines of the all the Gods he knew standing in window frames and doorways of homes, or besides the wooden stalls of merchants. Frosted dirt tracks still wove between buildings, and the smells of fish and meat still hung in the air.


    Eventually, the guard led them to a small building that had the same overhanging tiled roof as every other. Its stone walls were bleached white like the snow, with its timber cladding painted a solid black. She drew up beside its doorway, a rectangular opening with nothing separating the inside from the cold of the outside.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°We have assigned you this dwelling for your stay here,¡± she said, her voiced laced with just a hint of boredom. ¡°One of the Ia¡¯dou will come and escort you when the Inari-da are ready.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi nodded in thanks, and the woman stepped past him and marched back to her post at the gate, leaving them to make themselves at home.


    Inside, the house was really just a single room. In the centre, smooth, sun-faded wooden boards led to a square fire pit, with an iron tripod for boiling water and cooking stood over it. His eyebrows raised as he noticed the piles of firewood ready for the fire pit. Wood was a scarce resource in the wastes, even this far south. It was rare to see this much in one place¡ªespecially to be used for something like fire. Somebody had also laid out thirteen bed rolls in a neat circle around the fire pit and given the place a thorough tidy before they arrived.


    The walls were the same plain white as they were on the outside, with half a dozen scrolls hung from iron nails. Each scroll depicted a pair of the original Inari-da, receiving their power from the Gods¡ªcrowned men and women being basked in light from the clouds, or being presented a glimmering jewel by the talons of a mighty eagle. On the eastern wall, T¡¯aakshi recognised the mighty bear, Ain-ou¡ªthe God of the Hunt¡ªsharing his power with the two Inari-da that had come from the Su¡¯roi by sinking his vicious fangs into their throats.


    Men and women filed in behind him, peeling off thick fur coats and slumping onto their bed rolls for some well-earned rest. They chatted amongst themselves cheerfully enough, but he could see the exhaustion in their eyes, the weariness in their muscles and its effect on their movement. They had pushed hard to arrive here on time to avoid offending the Inari-da.


    Rather than do the same, T¡¯aakshi moved over to the firepit and began building a fire using the dried wood and cottongrass tinder that had already been set out for them. Once he had built the frame, he reached for the flint in the pouch at his side, but hesitated, scowling. The only reason he carried a flint normally was for absolute emergencies. He shouldn¡¯t need one¡ªhe had Self. But he hadn¡¯t been able to bring himself to risk failing where the others could see.


    The shame made his insides curl, but he took out the flint anyway, and began striking.


    ¡°You know, Shi, you need to rest too. You¡¯ve taken more watch than anybody else and built the fires for the entire journey¡ªif I¡¯m not mistaken, you¡¯ve carried more than your fair share of the water, too. Let one of the lads build this one, eh?¡±


    T¡¯aakshi struck the flint and glinting firestone together and glanced at the hulking form of T¡¯aallin crouched down beside him. He wore a pitying smile, weathered skin flushing red from the cold. T¡¯aallin had been a hunter of considerable experience when T¡¯aakshi¡¯s father had become chief. Now the hunters of the Su¡¯roi positively revered him for his expertise, T¡¯aakshi himself included.


    ¡°They¡¯ve come all this way for no reason but to appease the Inari-da, Lin. This is the least I can do for them.¡±


    The older man sighed, brushing stray greying hair away from his eyes just as the fire roared into existence in front of them.


    ¡°You are still set on refusing to take your father¡¯s place, then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not ready. And, even if I was, I¡¯m not the best person for the job. Any of the men here could do it as well as I¡ªmost would do even better.¡±


    ¡°Not a man here would deny you have a lot to learn, lad. But, as S¡¯aarasu is so fond of saying, the time to repair the roof is when the sun is shining. You are young, and the tribe is strong. We have the time for you to learn. To grow into the man we can all see you becoming, Shi. Of the thirteen of us here now, I would choose you¡ªnot for the man you are, but the man you will be.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi had no response to that. How could he ever justify accepting leadership of the Su¡¯roi on the merits of a man that didn¡¯t exist yet? The pressure that came with that level of expectation had been mountainous even before his father had passed, back when it had seemed like it would be several dozen years before he would have to decide.


    The eyes of the tribe had always been on him. Every moment of every day, people had questioned his abilities and readiness, right from the moment he could walk. Once he had passed into adulthood and begun leading his out parties out into the wastes, expectation had pressed upon him like stone boulders strapped to his back.


    Failed hunts were normal, and most parties that headed out failed to find a substantial catch¡ªthe wastes, after all, were vast and mostly empty¡ªbut every time he had returned empty-handed had been more confirmation for everyone that he was lacking. That he was not good enough. Not able to live up to the legacy his father had left for him.


    Now his father had passed, and his tribe needed somebody who could live up to that legacy. Somebody that wasn¡¯t him.


    Fortunately, T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t have to try to explain this. A figure clad all in white stepped into their room. It was a man, older than T¡¯aakshi, wearing a flowing white robe that reached to his ankles, leaving his filthy and bare feet exposed, red raw from the cold. One of the Ia¡¯dou, the servants of the Inari-da.


    ¡°T¡¯aakshi of the Su¡¯roi,¡± the man intoned, his voice straining to hide the shivers. ¡°the Inari-da are ready for you. Come.¡±

 The Task I

    T''aakshi


    The jade green stone walls of Kuchisoto¡¯s temple loomed over T¡¯aakshi from their vantage point at the top of a smoothed white marble staircase. On either side of him, weather-worn terracotta statues flanked the stairs in the shape of ferocious razor-fanged wolves, their fur curled like flame across their backs.


    Several layers of curved roofs, similar to the rest of the town, capped the ocean green walls. Only here, the black timber holding the tiles in place were inlaid with intricate gold detail: sprawling and delicate floral patterns dotted with the occasional figure knelt in prayer amongst the leaves.


    Narrowed wolf eyes tracked him all the way up the stairs as he followed the Ia-dou to the temple entrance, past the two guards stationed there, and through heavy wooden doors.


    The temple¡¯s main chamber was a simple enough room. A violet mat led visitors on a straight path towards a large raised dais at the back of the room, and a kneeling cushion set out before it. Twelve velvet-cushioned chairs sat in an arc on the dais facing the kneeling cushion, with six lit torch sconces burning behind them.


    T¡¯aakshi licked his suddenly dry lips and followed the violet fabric to the cushion, and kneeled down onto it. This was just a formality. There was no need to be nervous. He kept those things in the forefront of his mind, but it did nothing to calm the pounding in his chest.


    ¡°T¡¯aakshi of the Su¡¯roi has come to answer the summons of the Inari-da,¡± the Ia-dou called from his position just inside the doorway.


    For a moment, only silence answered. Then, a doorway that T¡¯aakshi hadn¡¯t noticed in the wall behind the dais swung open, and six people ambled through, each perching themselves straight-backed, on a chair.


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s eyes found the most familiar of the figures first. S¡¯aana was the Inari-da his father had dealt with most often and was the only one of the six he knew by name. In times past, each tribe would send a Self user to Kuchisoto to become Inari-da and represent the interests of the tribe. However, the Su¡¯roi had not produced a channeler of its own in many years, and the Inari-da had chosen another to represent them in their ranks.


    S¡¯aana regarded him through narrowed eyes, her hands clasped together and resting lightly atop her lap. T¡¯aakshi swallowed thickly. His father had always met even her iciest of glares as an equal, but now that she turned that hard stare upon him, it was a struggle just to not flinch away from it. All the Inari-da wore fine robes, and S¡¯aana¡¯s cerulean gown, trimmed with gold, not unlike the temple itself, only added to the aura of authority that seemed to radiate from the woman.


    ¡°So,¡± she began, her voice rasping and strained, yet somehow razor sharp. ¡°T¡¯aakshi of the Su¡¯roi comes before us. It pleases us to receive you, boy. We only wish it wasn¡¯t in circumstances such as these. All the Inari-da feel the loss of your father as keenly as any blade. He was a great man.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Several of the others murmured their agreement, and T¡¯aakshi bowed, his fist pressed tight to his heart.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    He meant to say more¡ªthe formal response was certainly meant to be longer¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t force the words past his lips. Thankfully, S¡¯aana did not appear offended, merely inclining her head in acknowledgement.


    ¡°Let us move on to why we are here, then. The Su¡¯roi need a new Chief. As the son of the previous, and the first wielder of Self that your tribe has seen in some time, we believe you to be suitable.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi tensed. He had known it was coming, but hearing it out loud made it real. His answer here, no matter what it was, would change the course of his entire life. Before S¡¯aana had said it aloud, he had been certain of his choice. He still was. Despite that, some small part of him wanted to say yes. To put himself forward. I would choose you. Not for the man you are, but for the man you will be.


    He tried to shake T¡¯allin¡¯s words from his mind. How could he gamble his people¡¯s future on the promise of potential he might never reach? No. This had been his father¡¯s path, not his. He would do anything for his people, give anything. But he wasn¡¯t the person to lead them.


    ¡°I am honoured, S¡¯aana of the Inari-da,¡± he said, eyes fixed to the floor. ¡°But I must decline. I am not the right person for this.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± she said, eyebrows raised. ¡°There would be much glory in leading your tribe¡ªmuch honour. That is no small thing for a young man.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as I would lose by putting my own honour and glory before my people¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± S¡¯aana whooped, and T¡¯aakshi jerked back in surprise, eyes wide. The other Inari-da chuckled to themselves behind robed hands. ¡°I see your father¡¯s prideful boasting was not just vain bleating. You represent him well, boy.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s heart twisted painfully in his chest, but he did not have the opportunity to thank the woman for her words.


    ¡°Indeed, S¡¯aana,¡± a man to her left spoke before he could, hand caressing a wispy silver beard. He, like her, wore flowing azure robes, and T¡¯aakshi couldn¡¯t help but glance at the gleaming ruby that occupied the space his left eye once had.


    ¡°But it is not wise, boy, to refuse before you know the entirety of what you sacrifice.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi frowned. He had expected nothing beyond a dismissal upon his refusal. Now, his mind raced to figure out what he could possibly be sacrificing by refusing them. Before he could ask, another of the Ia¡¯dou, a woman dressed in white and barefoot just as the man who stood at the door was, entered through the same door as the Inari-da had.


    In her hands, she carried a plump cushion of rich ruby fabric, trimmed with silver. The woman inclined her head to the Inari-da, and held the cushion towards S¡¯aana. T¡¯aakshi¡¯s breath caught in his throat. Resting on top of the soft material was a crystal sphere glowing a faint blue. He would have recognised it anywhere.


    ¡°That came from my father¡¯s spear.¡±


    The words had escaped his mouth before he could stop them, but S¡¯aana only nodded in confirmation. She reached out her hand, and plucked the sphere from its resting place, holding it out towards him. The woman with the cushion turned and disappeared back through the doorway.


    ¡°Do you know what this is, boy?¡±


    He looked again at the jewel, its surface seeming to shift and flow as though it were liquid.


    ¡°My father never really talked about it. He said it helped him make decisions, but he never explained how.¡±


    ¡°It is called a tanae. They are used to preserve memory. Each chief of the twelve tribes has their own, which they fill with their memories and experiences. They store all the cumulative knowledge of their tribe in its tanae, which is then passed on to the next chief upon their passing.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi could barely breathe. ¡°So in that sphere¡ª¡±


    ¡°Is all the knowledge and experience your father wanted to pass on, yes. And all the memories he wanted to preserve for you.¡±

 The Task II

    He couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the sphere. Not now that he knew what it contained. His father¡¯s memories. It would not be simply useful knowledge, or things to help him lead the tribe, either. He knew his father well enough to know that he would have left personal memories there, too. Memories of them, together. Memories meant for nobody else but him, and perhaps his mother. His eyes shot back to the Inari-da as he remembered what the bearded one had said: It is not wise, boy, to refuse before you know the entirety of what you sacrifice.


    ¡°Those memories¡ªthe ones my father left¡ªthey should go to me. They are mine by right. The others¡ª¡±


    S¡¯aana scoffed. ¡°Nothing on that tanae is yours by right. It belongs only to the next Chief of the Su¡¯roi¡ªwhoever that may be.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi was on his feet in a heartbeat, hot fire surging through his veins.


    ¡°He left them for me! I don¡¯t care about any of the others,¡± he stepped forward, fists clenched, ¡°but you have to give me the memories he left¡ª¡±


    The air left him as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He keeled, vision spotty, gasping for breath. A pressure gripped his throat like an iron hand, and he felt himself being lifted off of the ground, his feet flailing wildly. S¡¯aana stalked towards him, index finger upturned like a meat-hook.


    ¡°Do not presume to tell us what we do, and do not have to do, boy,¡± she rasped, hawk eyes boring into him.


    The pressure vanished, and he crumpled to the floor as though she had actually hung him on that meat-hook finger, and he lay there gasping for breath, trying to focus his eyes on her, on any of them.


    ¡°You would keep them from me? My own father¡¯s memories?¡±


    ¡°Memories he preserved for his successor. There are rules, boy. Rules that must be followed, even for the grieving sons of great men.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± T¡¯aakshi ground out, hauling himself back to his kneeling position.


    ¡°If you prove yourself worthy of becoming Chief, I will tell you. You have my word. Those answers, these memories¡ªthey wait for you at the top of that peak, not here at the bottom.¡±


    ¡°And how can I prove myself?¡±


    S¡¯aana sighed, and rubbed tiredly at her face, the power that had exploded from her earlier fading to nothing, leaving a tired old woman in its wake.


    ¡°The creature that killed your father. The descriptions we have¡ªthere are no records of anything like it. Tall tales from hunters that range deep into the plains are nothing new, but every man that came back tells the same story.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi had to resist the urge to run. He knew what was coming and the certainty of it hit him like a lance of ice through his heart.


    ¡°You want me to kill it.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said simply, as though she were asking him to fetch her a drink. ¡°Even if the stories are exaggerated, they will spread to the other tribes and keep people afraid to hunt. But if they aren¡¯t, the beast needs to die before it can do any more harm to our people.¡±


    ¡°And if I say no?¡±


    ¡°Then that is your right, boy. The task will go to somebody else, as will your father¡¯s memories¡ªprovided they survive it, of course.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    T¡¯aakshi narrowed his eyes. He may simply be a boy, but that did not mean he was some goat fleeing the wolf, unaware that he was being shepherded towards the rest of the pack.


    ¡°What are you not telling me? Why are you pushing so hard for me to do this when I clearly don¡¯t want it?¡±


    ¡°Boy, I could fill an ocean with the things we aren¡¯t telling you. Not a single one would change the reality of your situation. I will, however, tell you one thing that might.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s eyes narrowed even further. The lack of denial meant that he was on the right track, but what difference did that make when he could do nothing to change things?


    ¡°What?¡± he asked.


    ¡°In all the stories the hunters of the Su¡¯roi told us, one truth stood out above all others: whatever that creature is, not a single one of your hunting party did a damned thing to it. Nobody but you.¡±


    ¡°There are other channellers among the tribes.¡±


    ¡°By all means, if you think you can convince one of the other Chiefs to risk a channeler on a problem only affecting Su¡¯roi territory, go right ahead.¡±


    ¡°You could order it.¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡±


    But we won¡¯t. And if that was the case, then of all the people they could send, T¡¯aakshi was the only one who had a chance of success. Of survival. They were trying to paint him into a corner, to force him the way they wanted him to go, and he had no idea why. Worst of all, they might well succeed.


    ¡°Do not rush your decision, boy. You may remain in Kuchisoto for three days. We will receive your answer before you leave.¡±


    ¡°No need,¡± he spat, rising to his feet once more, his fists clenched but held tight to his sides. ¡°What kind of man would I be if I allowed you to throw my people¡¯s lives at a problem that only I can solve? I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi didn¡¯t give any of them a chance to respond. He spun on his heels and stalked from the room. Cold fury took him from the chamber, and all the way down the marble steps before the fear set in. Kill the beast? What on earth was he thinking? Just remembering the damned thing had him breaking out in cold sweats, and he hadn¡¯t gotten to the fact that the creature¡¯s awful eyes made channeling Self feel more like trying to catch fish with his bare hands.


    ¡°T¡¯aakshi.¡±


    A horrifyingly familiar voice broke him from his thoughts.


    ¡°T¡¯aarak? What¡ª¡±


    But almost immediately he knew exactly why T¡¯aarak was here. He was, after all, one of the best that the Su¡¯roi had to offer. When T¡¯aakshi had seen him last, he was a man broken by what he had seen. Now, he looked solemn, his brows folded into a sort of concerned frown. His back, though, was straight. His shoulders squared. This was very much the T¡¯aarak that he had revered as a boy.


    ¡°I, too, received a summons. I am to meet the Inari-da to find out my task, just as you have.¡±


    T¡¯aakshi¡¯s mouth worked, but no sound left it. After all that, he wasn¡¯t even the only candidate. If they had been truthful about the beast¡­


    ¡°They want us to kill the creature,¡± he said, finally forcing the words out. T¡¯aarak¡¯s shoulders dropped¡ªthe only sign the revelation affected him.


    ¡°I see. Either way, before I go in, I wanted to apologise to you. My behaviour at the shrine, no matter what I felt¡ªit wasn¡¯t acceptable.¡±


    ¡°I under¡ª¡±


    ¡°But I also want to make this clear, T¡¯aakshi. I do not think you are fit to lead us. You are not ready, and there is no guarantee that you ever will be. I will not leave our people¡¯s fate to chance. I will kill the beast, and I will become our next Chief. No matter what it takes. I would think hard on whether you truly wish to stand in my way.¡±


    And with that, T¡¯aarak strode past him, leaving T¡¯aakshi standing at the bottom of the temple¡¯s marble staircase, mind racing and mouth agape.


    ?


    S''aana


    S¡¯aana watched T¡¯aarak of the Su¡¯roi leave with distinct disinterest.


    ¡°He is capable,¡± Aram ventured, hand stroking that abominable beard.


    ¡°Not for what we require.¡±


    ¡°And you believe the boy is?¡± A¡¯alein asked.


    A¡¯alein had remained silent throughout both audiences. It was required that as many of the Inari-da as were available attended when they vetted candidates to lead the tribes, but the final say would be S¡¯aana¡¯s as the representative of the Su¡¯roi.


    ¡°He is the best choice we have. He is untested and raw, but everything we need is there. All accounts say he is well-liked and respected. His people believe he is capable, even if he is yet to himself.¡±


    The others said nothing, but she could feel the uncertainty churning inside all of them, herself most of all. Things had changed. The tribes were weakening, and what few alliances had ever existed between them were collapsing in on themselves. Food was scarcer than it had ever been, and violent blizzards now wracked places they had never before touched.


    They had all read the signs, just as they could all feel the change in the winds. It was an unmistakable feeling, like the oppressive weight of the air immediately before a storm.


    The boy had been right. They were not telling him everything¡ªif they had, he may well have run south and never looked back.