E.R. COOK

This is an ongoing fictional serial book, one chapter published every week. If you have not read up to this point, please check out the other chapters.

Asha is a fifteen year old girl born into a savage world sculpted by tribal wars and elemental magic. She is chosen as the elder shaman’s apprentice, the akira. She is also a Raven’s Eye, one able to communicate and see through a raven’s eyes, a special talent even among the shamans. Though she will one day be powerful, she is looked down upon as the failed firstborn daughter of the chieftain of the tribe. As she struggles to understand herself and her powers along with dealing with the eternal hatred and shame of her father, she must also constantly figure out how to bring her tribe through the clouds of war and danger that the ravens tell her about.

As you can read, this book deals with violence and trauma, but it’s not all doom and gloom. Like other works of fiction, any resemblance to any living person, place or thing is purely coincidental.

Dark Clouds

Viro’s group approached the village late in the afternoon. Asha’s heart dropped as they trudged within the gates. Every horse held two to three wounded, every travois and wagon piled with the dead. Few soldiers walked through whole, though some seemed to have minor wounds that would heal clean if they still had any poultice.

Asha turned and motioned to the groups of villagers to move forward to help. The mixed groups of men and women, clothes and aprons stained with mud and blood, left their work and flowed forward like a wave.

She spotted Viro, walking with the aid of a long staff, at the front of the troop. A bandage was wrapped around his head, his graying hair poking out spiky with dried blood. His armor was torn and askew, but he still barked out commands with a strong voice. He directed the few men who were standing to help unload the horses and direct the wounded to the aid area.

He turned at her approach. “Shaman.”

“Viro. What news?” Her mind tried to stop counting the dead and wounded. It was too many. Like leaves in the fall. A raven cackled deep within her mind and she winced. She quickly tried to block it before more visions of the battlefield formed. Visions of her tribesman.

“Your father has stayed behind with a small force to protect our retreat. We were able to carry many from the field, but the terrain was rough. Some. . . some remain.” He shuddered.

Asha whispered a quick protection prayer, reminding herself to ask Chalese about teaching her the warding spells. It was said that soldiers who died in battle who could not have the rites done would wander the earth forever, and sometimes, come back to haunt and terrorize those that remained.

At the same time, she restrained a sarcastic laugh at Viro’s description of her father’s refusal to return.

Just then, Chalese came up, leaning heavily on her cane. Viro bowed. “Shaman.”

“General.”

Viro started to open his mouth, but then stopped, looking side-eyed at Asha. Chalese chuckled. “What is it you would say, my old friend? You may speak freely in front of my akira.”

He grimaced. “It is nothing. Merely hoping that the ceremonies are in place for my men. And those we were forced to leave on the mountains.”

Chalese nodded. “It is done.”

He nodded, turning back to the wounded area to see to his men. After he was out of earshot, Asha hissed. “What was that?”

Chalese chuckled. “You have to understand, Viro and I grew up together. We have always had an easy way of talking. I have a feeling he was going to give me a piece of what he thought about your father.”

Asha huffed. “Well, why should my presence stop him?”

Chalese said, “Just because you are akira now doesn’t mean that you are not also your father’s daughter. And might be tempted to tell him things.”

Asha laughed. “Not likely.”

“Just as it is not likely that he will be chief after today’s defeat. Already I hear the growling thunder about how he did not listen to you.”

Asha stared at her mentor for a moment. “You knew this would happen. He would defy me and then be removed after the defeat.”

Chalese sighed. “No child. I did not know that. No one truly knows the future except the gods, remember that. As much as I want to have them see you as an equal, I would also not endanger the tribesman to play a political game. Remember that as well. It is a rule your father has forgotten.”

She continued, “I did hope your father would listen to you. But I feared he would do exactly what happened, defying you to try to tear down your new status. So, you say. . .why didn’t I go and deliver the vision? Because my dear, I feared your father would tear me down as well, for having chosen you and destroyed what little hope he had for gaining power through you.”

“That,” Asha stuttered. It was one thing for her father to defy her, he had hated her from the moment she was born. But to go against an elder shaman? To tear her down in the eye’s of the tribe? But as she took a breath, the dark truth settled in her eyes. “He was going to destroy the tribe either way.”

“Once the die was cast, all we could do was take the roll as it came.” Chalese’s eyes swept over the devastated village. “What do your ravens tell you?”

“Nothing good.” Asha bit her lip. “I do not hear words as much as a feeling. Like the electricity of a storm before it breaks over the mountain.”

Chalese nodded. “A storm comes. One which we may not weather.”

Without another word, she walked off to tend to the wounded.

A second had not gone by before Preen walked up. Her eyes were red, her cheeks tear-stained, but the lithe petite woman was standing with the strength of a stone. In a calm, clear voice she said, “Shaman. The river has been running clear for many hours now. But Anastal says that there are many to mourn. That we do not have. . .do not have enough room in the field for all the piers.”

The darkness grew in Asha’s body. Too many dead for the field. What has my father done? My friends. My family. My tribe. “Tell her that we will begin ceremonies tonight for those that have been prepared. Chalese and I will oversee. Then tomorrow we will build again. And again until all the dead are properly seen off.”

“But,” the young woman’s eyes grew confused. “We do not have enough goods made. Enough weapons and baskets.”

The darkness started gnawing at Asha. “Then we will burn their real weapons. I am so tired of war.”

Preen did not say anything, just nodded. “We will make do, as we always have, Shaman.”

Asha gave a weary smile to the woman, five years her senior. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being stone when many of the others are mud.”

Preen just gave her a shy smile, then walked off in the direction of the field.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of mud and blood, bandages, poultices and settling squabbles and fights amongst the stressed villagers. Tempers flared, trauma leaked. But through it all Asha soldiered on, one part of her mind seething at all the pain and loss her father caused through his narcissism, the rest on autopilot as she struggled to hold the bodies and souls of her friends and elders together.

Sundown was approaching as a great gong rang. Chalese put a hand on her shoulder. “It is time.”

Asha looked at their robes, stained with blood and muck and death. “We should be purified.”

Chalese sighed. “There is no water clean enough to purify us from this. The gods will understand.”

Those that could be spared and who could walk trudged to the field. There, piers sat stacked as far as the eye could see, stretching to the forest beyond. On top of each, a white wrapped body lay among their goods: woven baskets, flowers, fruit, nuts, weapons. A group of young boys holding lit torches already awaited, their tired eyes turning to Chalese for instruction. She nodded, then turned to the gathered group, raising her hands.

“We come her as One, as the light fades in the west, to grant peace and safe journey to those who have passed from this world.”

“We comes as One to grant them peace.” The village called back in dead voices.

“We come as one, as the souls of our departed rise on the winds, to wish them safe journey through the forest. Over the mountains and rivers and chasms to the great Golden Lands.”

“We come as One to wish them safe journey.” The village called.

She turned back to the piers, hands still upraised. With a nod, the boys were released. Running pier to pier, they lit the wood. At first, nothing seemed to be happening but one by one the fires started licking at the bases, hungrily consuming the wood. Asha could feel Chalese calling out to the fires, begging them to go hire. Telling them to pull more energy, to grow hot and fast and consume the bodies. The fires growled in response, suddenly exploding into towers of flame and smoke, engulfing the bodies as tears and silent sobs wracked the villagers.

“We come as One,” Chalese cried as the roars of the fire sought to drown her out. “To bid farewell to our loved ones, and rejoice in the day we shall see them again in the Golden Lands.”

“We come as One to say farewell.” The strangled voice of the crowd called back.

They all stood in silence, watching the towering flames eating at the bodies of their loved one, the forms mere dark shadows in the center of the towering infernos, a shadow that slowly faded as the light of the fire grew brighter as darkness descended.

Words came to Asha’s lips, a song that burst from her heart. At first she just whispered a word or two, but as the power of the earth flowed through her, she knew it was something for all to hear. She lifted her voice:

As the rains bring life upon the earth,
As the sun brings life to those who seek,
As the plants bring food to nourish our souls
As the fire brings us heat,
We all return to where we came
A cycle now complete
But all is not lost, 
All should not cry
For there is comfort and peace to be found
As we die
For all shall return to the lands of the Sun
Where we can hunt forever
And forever be as One.

One by one, other villagers picked up the song, repeating the verse over and over, their voices rising in painful cries to the sky. As the last of the fires died out, smoke rising from a pile of ashes, the voices drained away. The last notes drifted off into the dark night, swallowed by the shadows and the stars.

It was in this silence that Asha first realized a strange buzzing in the back of her mind. A raven in the forest beyond, yammering about something. She closed her eyes, trying to focus. She still could not hear words yet, or directly speak to them, something Chalese said should come in time. But she could see things through their eyes. She concentrated, one hand drifting to the pendant at her throat, willing the connection to be stronger.

Confusing flashes began entering her mind.

Shadows. Shadows flitting from tree to tree. On the ground. Flashes of light when the moon hits them.

A strange sensation fluttered through the earth. Chalese suddenly stiffened, turning to look at her, a question in her eyes.

Before Asha could say a word, the ground erupted at her feet. She jumped back. To see a single arrow piercing the earth.

An explosion knocked her to the earth. She choked and coughed in the dust. To see the front gates on fire.

They were being attacked. They were all going to die.