Leo indulged in the rewards of his triumph silently as he walked towards the hulking flame. The weight in his chest felt as though it had been crushed and the needle in his brain lay trapped in a thick gel. Communion was a test of bravery and loyalty. It was a test of faith. And he had faith. Leo pulled the fight that he had pushed back to the dark recesses of his mind out into the light. He imagined his victory, the Lion crushed under his superior will. He imagined the pride in his father’s eyes, the lust in Aella’s. He was better than Pait. He was special. Leo showed his vigor to Rathanni, and Rathanni favored him. It felt as if he had already won.
As he got closer to the Ankh Fire the warm night air began to thrum with the sound of drums and laughter. Red embers rained down upon the land and Leo caught one in his regrown hand. It created a tingling in his palm before fading to a numbness. The rhythmic drumming changed tempos between a bouncy, pulsating beat and something slower and more hypnotic.
As Leo came closer to the fire, Ajan caught his eye. With two horns of greef in his hand, he headed up a ring of people watching a youthful woman perform a Drum Dance. The dancer was wearing black leather adorned with long red threads. Upon her face hung a dark mask bordered with white. The rhythm of the dance was in tandem with the drums. During the quicker tempos the dancer would perform stomps. After each stomp, she lifted herself off the ground and transitioned into a hop. After a series of hops in a semicircle, she would stomp the ground again. This repeated until the drums transitioned into a slower beat. Once the tempo slowed, she shook her body around in fluid arcs, mesmerizing the audience with her flowing, scarlet threads.
Another firework roared into the air, this time exploding with a blinding white blast. Multiple Grangari cheered and roared at the sound. The explosion knocked Ajan out of his trance and he noticed Leo’s arrival.
Ajan sauntered over to Leo and handed him one of his drinks. “Leo, lad! What took you so long?” Moments after Leo took the drink Ajan patted him on the back with the might matching a smithy. The force knocked Leo forward and his drink spattered over the grass. “Ohoops, sorry there lad. Don’t know,” Ajan hiccuped. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes, you know lad?” Ajan swayed in the warm air.
Leo chuckled after recovering from the blow, looking at Ajan’s red, beaming face. “Boy” became “lad” when Ajan drank enough. “You’re exactly how I expected to find you Ajan. How long do you reckon you have left tonight before you meet the grass for bed?”
“HAHAHAHA!” Ajan laughed raucously. “Not long now!” The arc of his sways grew.
Leo looked down at the ocre drink before taking a sip. He had grown used to the bitter taste, with its hint of iron. Leo looked around and noticed his father sitting before a circle of Grangari, mostly teenagers. Pait’s moppish blond hair looked up at Tavr. “He’s telling his stories again, huh?”
“Yup! He’s earned that right you know lad. You should have seen him in his prime, nobody could match him! I remember the last Pride War we were in together, the one before he was given Ulni, that is. He ended that one early.” His beaming smile faded slightly. “I might have died if not for him.” Suddenly, Ajan was looking at him intently. “Leo! You’ve got good blood in you lad. Make us proud tomorrow, yeah?”
Another white flash lit up the night sky. Leo decided to hug Ajan instead of giving a response. There were so many people he could fail. “I’m going to go listen to my dad. Try to pace yourself Ajan.”
Ajan responded by bottoming out his horn. “Tonight’s not a night for pacing lad.”
Leo walked up to the group. Tavr paused his story as he saw Leo’s approach, interrupting the reverie of his audience. “Ah, Leo. Pait tells me you were still on the altar when he left. Good job son.”
Part of Leo became awash in pride, but something else froze him. He thought about telling Tavr of his encounter with Rathanni, but decided against it. Instead he took a long swig of greef. “Thanks.” Leo sat down behind Pait, nestling himself between two other Grangari that were nearly his age. “You can continue, don’t let me stop you.”
Tavr’s brow furrowed again as his eyes lingered upon his son. Leo frowned and looked down at his drink. Tavr always tried so hard to discern him from a distance.
One of the younger boys in the audience cut through the stifling silence. “So what happened after you got the message, Tavr?”
Tavr slowly looked back into the crowd of red eyes staring at him. He let out a deep breath and continued, his tense eyes melting back into the past’s warm certainty. “Well on the day of the war the Pride had to be organized. The oldest elder at that time, Holne was his name, ordered all of us into a long line. I remember thinking that there must have been more than a hundred men in our group. You probably know, all the men who have survived their first Communion have the mandate. I was only twenty and one then…” Tavr’s eyes drifted around the audience, the behemoth red fire burning in the background. “Now, the line itself, it’s very important you see. Its ordering follows Rathanni’s guidance. The old hold the center, the youngest hold the ends. Ten paces or so separated each person on the line. The other pride will do the same. We were told that when the two lines meet in the crimson fog, we should engage the man directly in front of us. If you do win your fight, you will move on to whichever fighter on the other side of the line has won as well, whether he is on your right or left. If your potential opponents are in combat with a man to your side, then you must wait to see if he wins before you engage. Understand this now young ones, there are only two things more dishonorable than breaking the vow of partnership: relenting in Communion, or interrupting a fight. So, I was the farthest to the left on the line. My twin brother was farthest to the right. And in the center was elder Holne. Oh yes, Holne was an old man, even older than me or Grisha if you young ones can believe it. I’ve never met anyone wiser, all us young men looked up to him. But he was weak by then, living well into his white years. He struggled to lift his shield and his mace shook unsteadily in his hand. None of this was out of fear mind you. You don’t get to that age without a Lion’s spirit, but he was weary. His body was failing him.”
“So, there I stood at the edge of the group, staring across the black demarcation line. Most Grangari will never cross that line, they’ll never know the feeling of stepping into another pride’s territory. If you young ones haven’t tried yet, hah well, give it a go one of these days. Just one leg though, you’ll find the burning painful enough. A pride war is the only time that won’t happen. As we stood in formation in the warm air, I looked out over the other pride standing across the demarcation line. We could not cross yet, not until the crimson fog came. But, I could see their faces. They looked exactly like us. I was scared. I knew I was strong, I had faced death before and won, but this was different. You must understand what a pride war is, young ones. The wars happen when a pride gets too big, when a pride begins to stumble under its own weight. In his wisdom, Rathanni tells us to thin ourselves, as we slaughter the milk-beasts when their herd grows too big. It is natural and healthy. But, it is an extermination. It is likely that the majority of those you stand with will die if you’re called to a pride war. And indeed, my brother did die that evening.”
The warmth in Tavr’s eyes died. His reverie broke, his eyes drawing slowly to Leo and laying there. In the red light of the ankh fire, Leo could see his father’s eyes glistening. Leo wanted to look back down, but instead he stared into Tavr’s eyes, hard. There were no tears in Leo’s eyes. “Come on then dad. You haven’t finished, have you? What was the fight like?”
Tavr twitched his head to the left, then continued his story. “Right. Well… let me remember. Yes, that’s right. The crimson fog, we had heard stories of it. After some time it swept over the mountains, gliding over the wheat, chilling the air and obscuring our vision. The fog was milky white, but specks of red floated within it, like red stars in a white sky. It was cold, and when I breathed it in it set me on edge. It’s a feeling that’s hard to communicate, the closest thing I’ve felt to it is the feeling after downing a few horns of greef. It numbs some senses as greef does, but the fog heightens others. I never felt more aggravated than the first time I breathed in the crimson fog. My fear melted away. Soon after, someone on the other side blew a horn and our line was set into motion. I was no longer able to see Holne, but I know he was the first across that demarcation line. We were told to never surpass the middle. “Never surpass the middle. March straight and true through the fog until you meet your opponent,” that’s what we were told. And so I did.”
“After marching through the numbing mist for a hundred heartbeats, I saw the red eyes of my first opponent shining through the fog. He must have been about my age, and he was about my size. A tall, lean boy. Soon after I laid eyes on him, the sound of combat burst through the fog on my right. A cacophony of bone hitting bone filled the air, and grunts turned to desperate yells. I remember the scent of the fresh blood, it was heightened by the crimson fog. An overpowering smell. The man to my side, I did not know him very well, but he was brave. He rushed ahead and clashed with the man before him. Hah, now look, I don’t recommend this to any of you if you’re called to a war, in fact I’m a bit ashamed, but I watched their fight. My opponent did too. We were young, morbidly curious. The only time we’d ever seen a Grangari fight another was in training. I wanted to see what it looked like.”
“The fellow to my side was indeed brave, but he was uncoordinated, uncontrolled. Maybe he was overcome by the intoxications of the fog, I can’t say I understand it. Perhaps he simply wanted the moment to be over. Whatever the case, he rushed up to the man on my opponent’s right and unleashed a wild, powerful thrash with his mace. His opponent’s response was effortless. If you young ones know nothing else about combat, I hope that you all understand this by now. A swing of the mace is a commitment, never forget that. Do not make it unless you are sure that your blow will find your mark. His opponent lifted his shield in response and absorbed the blow, then responded with one of his own. A swift swing to the side caught my pridesmate defenseless. I heard one side of his ribs shatter and he keeled to the ground before his head was smashed in.”
“The victor stood over my pridesmate's body, breathing hard. My opponent and I just looked at him quietly. When he did look up from the body at his feet, he met my gaze with a yell. He glared over the man to his side and began to walk towards him. I think he may have meant to kill him. Our idling was offensive. My opponent got the message though, and he began to walk towards me, mace raised in the fog. The victor, in his blood thirst, was pulled away by the next man on my side of the line. I realized then that it was my time to fight, there were no delays remaining.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I knew that I had to fight smarter than my pridesmate, he whose empty head was bleeding on the ground next to us. I was determined not to throw the first blow. I would only respond, as the victor before us did. My shield granted me protection. But, my opponent had the same idea. Haha well, he had just seen the same fight as me after all. We circled each other in the white fog, eyes locked on each other's mace. But fog disallows complacency. As we stayed locked in our battle trance, every breath of the wet air that we took became more and more painful. It felt as if we were taking sharp crystals into our lungs. I couldn’t bear it, I decided that I had to act. So, I threw a feint. I was looking to see how my opponent would react, how jumpy he would be to respond. I looked at his shield as I gave my false blow. Momentarily, my mind left the present as I tried to formulate a plan. I didn’t notice his mace swing low. It caught me on the leg, near the knee. My weight collapsed under me as my leg’s bones cracked open. I lay on the ground, screaming. I thought it was over at that moment, as did my opponent. He stood over me and readied his mace for my head, as the victor from before us did.” Tavr grinned, a rare sight. “That man must have felt such superiority over us then, I’m sure our pride seemed weak as he stared down at me on the ground. But, in his certainty, he lost caution. His attack was clearly telegraphed. With such a predictable blow, he should have gone for the chest. I dodged his mace with a flick of my neck as it came down, and then I battered his unprotected side. I finished him quickly, then. Powerful, but precise blows to the side and chest as he went down.”
“You see, fighting a man is different from fighting a lion. We have a cunning that they lack, but we are fragile. The outcome of a battle is decided in an instant. Hearing this story in the comfortable atmosphere of the Ankh Fire, your thoughts made warm and soft from greef, you may think this mistake proved him dull. But, you will all come to understand. In the heat of combat you do not fight with a right mind. Many things can go wrong. It was then that I realized the true importance of focus. A duel is not a matter of muscle, it’s a matter of mind.”
“So, though victorious in the end, there I lay, bleeding on the ground. I thought I did not have long before death. But, when I looked over I saw that the pridesmate to my right was still alive. He had beaten the victor from before, and another after him. If anyone on the other side was to get to me, they would first have to go through him. I lay crippled on the ground for a while longer, but I was not in pain. The fog numbed me. And I didn’t have to wait much longer. Soon after I was downed, the fog lifted.”
“After the fight, the women came upon the battlefield on their labor beasts and picked us up. Poen, my partner in my youth, came for me. I’m sure none of you are old enough to have met her. She was a lovely woman. She had such soft eyes. Well, she carried me back to the Blood Temple that day. As I looked out over the battlefield, I saw my brother’s dead body. I found out later that he had won his first fight, I knew he would. He was strong. The man who killed him, I tried my best to respect him, but I wanted to find him in the next war. I wanted to know the strength of the warrior who had bested my brother. But, he didn’t last long enough.
“So, as you all know, that was not my last Pride War. Our Pride is a vigorous one, we grow quickly. Each time I fought another man, I learned something new. If they didn’t make any of the mistakes that I had come to understand before that fight, well then I knew that they would make a new one.”
Aella’s voice broke through Tavr’s deep, resonant timbre. “How many have you killed Tavr?” Leo had not even noted her arrival, he must have been truly enraptured. Hearing about the success of his father gave him hope.
“I’ve been in three pride wars. In the first, I killed one man. In the second I killed three. And in my Last Pride war, about twenty years ago, I killed five.” Tavr basked in the awe of the audience, but he showed no vanity on his worn face. “The last man I bested was the most skilled. He and I were nearly evenly matched, but he was older than I. I had fought my way up and down the battle line. He had happened to be to the right of where I started, towards the center. That fight was the only one in which I was able to win by overpowering my opponent. After trading enough blows, he lost his stamina. When a person gets to that point, finding a blow is easy enough. But, it was not easy getting to that point. In truth, I’d wager that he would have bested me if I had fought him in his prime. Killing him granted me Ulni, Leo’s mother.”
“I know that most of you young ones haven’t even considered it, but what do you think happens if your partner dies in Communion? I understand it, you’ve got more immediate things on your mind. You’ve got to mate first after all. And yes, you will be finally given the opportunity to mate if you stand victorious on the night of your first Communion. But what then? Well, my dear Poen and I, we did consider it deeply once we had become partners. And indeed, she died one year after giving birth to my first son. After that night, I accepted that I would not feel the touch of a woman for the rest of my life. But, there was one way left for me.”
“Rathanni teaches us that we must not feel hatred towards the other prides. His siblings would not have hated him for what he did to them, it was a natural response to the unflinching reality of circumstance. Nature can do no evil. It is simply the way of things. Though we may engage in brutality with them, we must love the other prides as we love our own. We are all connected. This is how I was joined with Ulni.”
Tavr looked back at Leo as he continued. “Ulni was the partner of the last man that I killed. She was pregnant with his child during the pride war. When I killed her partner, she became mine.” Leo noticed the girl next to him tensing up, her nails digging into her left hand as she sat. She was staring at a boy near the edge of the crowd. “She came to our village one week after the war, seeking me,” Tavr continued on. It had been decided that her bloodline was not to die out with the death of her partner. It was Rathanni’s will. A few months after, she gave birth to my dear Sier, my one and only daughter. Soon after, Ulni was pregnant with Leo. Do you understand? Sier was not even my own blood. But, I found that I loved her like she was. I cared for and loved that girl just as much as I have all my other children.”
The tense girl to Leo’s right lost control of her tongue. Her voice quivered as she yelled out from the audience. “You killed her father and raised her as your own! And yet, you speak as if there is dignity in that!” Her shrill speech cracked. “Tavr, you know what we have to go through to become joined with another. We face death itself for that privilege! I know, It’s Rathanni’s will, I understand it damn it, and I’ve made my peace with it. But now you’re telling me that after all that, my partner could be killed in an ordered extermination? Oh, but not only that. You’re also telling me that I should be happy to leave the only village that I’ve ever known so that I can raise my slain partner’s child with the man who murdered his father? So that I can birth his killer’s children? It’s abhorrent!”
Tavr responded calmly and deliberately, as though he had had this conversation before. “I’m not telling you these things Eine, Rathanni tell us all. Do not question his wisdom. Understand that I respected Ulni’s partner greatly. And I know, I know it well, that if my first opponent had managed to finish me, that we would have treated Poem well. When you can feel yourself in the eyes of your opponent, you will understand what I mean then. We all share in the love of our creator.”
Eine was shaking with rage as she got up from her feet. Everyone around her began to back away, and Leo followed. Her anger was abrasive, but he could recognize it truly. She was terrified. “Why would our creator put us through this? We follow his will blindly, yet he plays games with our hearts!”
Tavr remained sitting. “Conflict is what gives our lives meaning. Rathanni gives us a land of abundance. We wake up most days with the certainty that we will be given the abundance to gorge ourselves upon, and we partake in Life’s pleasure. But, appreciation for these gifts comes out of our memories of hardship, with the knowledge that our lives have been tempered with pain. A life without Communion or pride wars, without glory and grief, would be meaningless, worthless.”
Tavr’s words only seemed to feed Eine’s fire. “I do not speak of Communion or the wars. I speak of loyalty. Rathanni enforces loyalty to our partners with the threat of affliction. Where does that loy…”
“Shut your mouth Eine”, a louder, higher-pitched voice cut Eine’s words down in the air. Aella had gotten up and begun to march towards her. “Tavr has forgiven your transgressions thus far, but I’ve grown sick of them. You owe your life, your love, your loyalty, all of it, solely to Rathanni’s grace. Nobody wants to hear you whine.”
Eine’s eyes pooled with tears as they fixed upon the boy she was staring at before. She tried to interject. “I just wan…” “Nobody cares what you want! Your doubts are your own, I don’t want them,” Aella’s voice overpowered her. Aella continued to push towards Eine as she backed away. She tripped on a rock behind her and fell to the ground, looking up at Aella as she stood before her, berating her. “You disgust me, you ingrate. How can you distrust with such strength? When before in your miserable life did you get such gall. Where has your nobility gone to? So you feel a little scared, so what? Get used to it.”
A firework set the air alight with a black boom. The dark streams melded in with the inky night sky, and the shining light of the stars were blotted out by obsidian. The explosion made everyone in the crowd jump, and the girl on the ground began to cry heavily. It looked like Aella might hit her. Leo looked upon the pair and saw a scene that tugged at a fresh, painful memory. His eyes scanned the crowd for Pait and didn’t find him. He must have left. Leo thought to himself that he should do the same. He shuddered as he walked away from the shouting.
After grabbing another horn of greef, Leo wandered around the Ankh Fire, listening to its violent crackling. He stepped over the snoring body of Ajan as it tossed restlessly on the grass. After walking halfway around the bonfire, he finally found Pait sitting at the edge of a crowd of children, mostly young boys. They sat around Grisha, another elder.
Wild curly black hair meandered down to her thin shoulders. Grisha’s long, lined neck creaked to the side. “Wonderful to see you dear”, she said sweetly. Her matronly voice eased his nerves. In his mind, Grisha was his mother, more so than Ajan was his father. She had practically raised him after Ulni’s death, for most of his life. “Oh, don’t think I didn’t notice your arrival. Rathanni is impressed with you tonight.” Grisha got up and clasped Leo’s hand. “Look now, young ones. I’ve known this young man since he was a cub.” She looked over her audience with doting eyes. “He was just like many of you boys, couldn’t sit still when I told him of anything unrelated to whatever had captured his attention at that particular moment. Grisha looked up at Leo from below and squeezed the muscles of his right arm, working down to his numb wrist. “But see now, he’s grown into a man. He gives well to our guardian. He has learned devotion, as you all will. That is what it takes to grow up strong. And you will see him strong tomorrow. Now go dear, sit next to your friend. You’re never too old to hear our story”.
Leo smiled sheepishly and nodded, before going to sit next to Pait. The children watched him with golden idolization in their eyes as he passed. Pait looked over at him as he sat down, smiling, but a sneering curve in his upward turned mouth betrayed him. His cheeks were flushed and rosy, head bobbing up and down. “Wow, look at you. You’re a big man huh? You know, I saw Aella looking at you after she came in. She couldn’t stop, actually. Whose approval do you not have tonight?” Pait took a long drink and looked away.
Leo didn’t bother with a response, there had been enough quarrel. These times were wearing everyone down raw. He understood why Pait had come over here. They had heard the story of their genesis more times than they could count, but there was warm comfort in the past. Leo laid down and looked up at the stars. Grisha began to speak, her speech soothing and slow. He closed his eyes, and listened.
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