Pieces of the Torn

(Part One)

Pieces of the Torn

It was a bright summer day in a Western Civilization.  Aaralyn breathes in the fresh air as she steps out of the hut to get away from the annoying people she calls her family.  In the south rests a valley which continues further than even the horizon it is of magnificent beauty and horrors that isn’t to be spoken amongst her people. To the north are mountains; the east and the west are wonders as many haven’t be explored much past eye site from her village. Anyone who walks further than that are not expected to return so few even dare to gaze in the directions.

 At the age of 17, she is to be expected of finding a beau, but Aaralyn has a stubborn disposition and purposefully separates herself from men.  She avoids them as much as possible simply because she feels that being married shouldn’t be a requirement but instead a choice.  Staying out of reach from her people, she sets out towards her favorite tree. 

Along the path, she picks dandelions and other yellow flowers.  She feels that yellow brightens up her gloomy days and bring peace between her and the gods.  Smiling to herself, she grabs the closest branch and hauls herself up to a comfortable spot.  A light breeze whisks past her face causing her hair to fly.  Smoothing her jet black hair back to its original position, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.  “Hello?” Aaralyn said.   Whatever the creature may be, it dashed away from the tree and moved further into the nearby mountains.  Without a second thought of the creature Aaralyn took out her blade which was forbidden for women to possess.

Aaralyn looked down at her blade that she stole three years ago from a man that died at night.  Aaralyn grins at the memory and with delight runs her fingers across the blade being careful not to cut her.  She begins to carve into the bark of a dead tree making her feel very strong and secure.  She carved the sun with a person standing beside it representing one of the gods. God of light as her people would call it.   And then she carved ۞ a symbol that she uses to claim that it is her carving.   Scanning her carvings all over her tree, she was impressed on how well she has improved since three summers ago.  Her people would not be proud if they discovered what she has done.  This is why she chose her hiding spot carefully so she wouldn’t be found. 

She laid her head against the tree wondering what it would be like to sleep up there and count the stars at night but she knows for now that is impossible.  She must get back soon before the sun sets otherwise her people will be out searching for her.  As the daughter of the Shaman, which one day this honor will be passed down to her, with this unique and highly coveted title she is always under strict village scrutiny to uphold honor for her village. With all people that up to her and after her she never seems to have time to be alone. 

Aaralyn walked into the hut and felt eyes on her as she settled into her wooden chair.  She glanced away as Kael sat down next to her and with effort tried capturing her attention. Her eyes met his and she gave him a vivid stare.  Aaralyn smiled at her own success as he stood up and hurried away.  Kael was a member of the hunting clan. Built big with endearing strength that was ideal for any father's taste that is looking for a future son-in-law. Aaralyn’s mother imagined her and Kael together.  Aaralyn knew her mother often thought of it but didn’t speak a word because this was to be the father’s role. 

Aaralyn grimaced at the unforgotten memory of her own father lying dead after a severe battle with the Eastern Civilization.  Her village was far greater in numbers before the battle but numbers diminished in great pace as the battle carried on.  Soon after it was over, Aaralyn laid her father to rest and surplus amount of others as well.  Side by side they lay with wooden crosses marking their graves.  Aaralyn snuck out one night and carved her symbol on her father’s cross.  Later on she was asked of the symbol but Aaralyn quickly denies of knowing anything pertaining to it.   Years passed and Aaralyn’s memory of her father faded away.  Tears met her quivering lips as guilt began to simmer in her heart and mind.  She wished she was there to protect her father and somehow keep him alive.  She knew her wishing would not bring him back but its painful moments like these is when she imagines he is back.  Later on her thoughts led her to bed and deep into sleep she settled while her father played a part in her dreams.

Early the next morning before the sun glimmered in the horizon.  Aaralyn woke and discreetly tip toed out of the village.  Once out of the range of her people, she jogged to her tree and climbed to her favorite spot.  She settled her head back and gazed upon the remaining stars.  What seemed like hours to her were only minutes as she connected the stars in hoping to make an image of something.  An image of her father she secretly hoped.  Aaralyn loved stars.  She wondered about her gods and where they were located beyond the stars.  Aaralyn imagined the gods using the stars or the moon for their beds and she smiled at the thought. 

Noise not too far from the tree startled Aaralyn.  In reaction, she took out her blade and scanned the area surrounding her.  Little movement in the bushes caught the corner of Aaralyn’s eye.   She waited while the pounding of heart seemed to jump out of her chest.  Aaralyn timed it perfectly as the person quietly moved out of the bushes with a bow and arrow in hand but Aaralyn with swift grace, turned, jumped and landed with foot first on the stranger and slammed the person on the ground.  Aggressiveness motivated her body as she swiped the blade across the neck with one hand and grabbed the belongings with the other and threw them over to the side out of reach.  She slid off the hat of the mysterious person and long blond hair tumbled out. 

Aaralyn was too late to shadow her surprise seeing that this was a woman warrior.  The woman breathing became gasps and her eyes were failing at feigning courage.   “Who are you and why are you in my presence?” Aaralyn asked.  The woman replied “I am a warrior with words you must know.  I am from the valleys of the south.” Aaralyn feared to know, “What words?” She asked.  The woman spoke, “War from the Eastern Civilization and beyond is coming our way.  They plan to invade and destroy every human in their path.” Aaralyn took her blade away from the woman’s throat. Aaralyn said, “You will watch me engrave a symbol into my arm; this symbol will represent our land and the women warriors that fought for it. “ The woman watched in amazement as Aaralyn put the knife into the skin.  Aaralyn said to the woman, “This will be the first of many wounds to come.”  The woman nodded in agreement and waited for Aaralyn to engrave it into her skin as well.  Aaralyn felt pain and was sickened at first but time shouldn’t be wasted on pain she thought.  Her father fought for land years ago and now it was Aaralyn’s turn to fight and to teach other women that they can fight as well as men.  It was time to win again and not give up her village and the southern villages to the wicked Eastern Civilizations.