Myonna

“COME ON, MYONNA. YOU CAN do better than that.”  

I raise my finger to Penny, letting out a hoarse cough. From here I can see the trainer, my older sister, roll her eyes, staff still in hand.  

“Myonna,” her voice is weary and tired. “We don’t have much more time—”  

“I’m not any good when I’m hunched over vomiting, am I? We’ll kick off tomorrow.”  

She sighs, moving closer to me. I let out another cough and she visibly takes a step back. “If you continue like this you’ll never advance to the sword.”  

“Maybe if you didn’t smack my sternum with a stick, this wouldn’t be happening.”  

“You were training. You are training.”  

“I need to catch my breath, Penny.”  

Another cough. Then another. The pain still hasn’t subsided, and Penny stands behind me, waiting impatiently.  

“Are you done?” She asks condescendingly. 

After a few seconds of staring down at the brownish dirt, I nod, trying to stand. “Yeah, yeah. I’m ready or whatever.”   

She throws me my staff. Its designed with the symbol of my Jiakka tribe, the tamers. A carving of a bakunawa with long tentacles curves around the length of the lean wood. Above me, the sun is setting, its rays a flamboyant gold over the mountainous horizon.  

“Mm.” Penny clears her throat. I turn to meet her, my mind falling back from the clouds. Taking a deep breath, I dig my feet into the dirt. She smiles, taking a few steps back before doing same.  

“Are you ok?”  

“Peachy.” I grip my staff.  

“On the count of three.” She says, then starts counting down. I watch her every movement. Every tremble of her fingers, every shift of her legs. One she says two, her eyes lose their glint of concentration. I lunge.  

“Hey!” she yells as she just barely misses my attack. She tries to strike again but I instantly go on the defensive, my staff cutting through the air like a blade as I block every one of her blows.  

Penny is fast—dangerously fast—but I know I can be faster.  

When her staff nears, I arch as far as my back will bend, dodging her attack. I’m still arched when Penny strikes again, this time slamming her weapon down with the force of a girl twice her size. The small stones on the ground shake. I smile, and she does too.  

“Not bad.” I say.  

“I know.” She says, but I see the smile playing on her lips.  

I throw myself to the side, rolling across the ground as her staff smacks against the littered stones. Penny rears back to strike again as I struggle to find my footing. In one swift motion, I roll to my feet, planting myself,  and thrust my shaft upward, blocking Penny’s next blow. 

Our staffs collide with a loud crack, and the ground below us shudders. Penny leans closer, smiling at me. “You’re doing good, bug.”  

“Of course I am.” I say slyly, using her second of weakness to attack.  

My weapon is still reverberating from the blow when Penny pivots to strike at my knees. I push off my front leg and swing my arms for momentum, cartwheeling in mid-air. As I flip over her outstretched staff, I see my first opening—my chance to pin her down.  

With a smooth and precise move, I pin her down with my staff. Her body slams against the dirt and her staff rolls away and its stopped only by the mammoth tree close by. For a second, we don’t say anything, our chests heaving in unison. She smiles, and I outstretch my hand to pull her up.  

“Wow.” She says, brushing the dirt from her face. “You didn’t fight like this before.”  

“I was tired.” I joke, and her lip upturns as she runs across the dirt to pick up her staff from where it rolled. I try to catch my breath. 

She races back, staff in hand. The last rays of light shine across her skin as the sun disappears over the snowy mountain tops so far away. Where the palace once stood.  

“We should get inside,” Penny says, walking towards the front door of our small bungalow. When she notices I’m not following her, she turns around.  

“Myo, lets get inside.”  

I turn. “Is it true?”  

She looks confused for a moment, then her eyes clear. “Myo—” 

I tried not to bring it up when she asked me to train, in fact, I didn’t want to bring it up at all. I wasn’t ready for the lecture I’d be given by my parents if I told them I was eavesdropping.  

“Myo what?” I ask, tone sharp. “Oryon is my home, Penny. I cant just up and leave. What about my friends? We’ve made a life here.”  

“I understand, but Oryon isn’t safe anymore. Did you hear about the attack? These people brought down the palace. We have no word as to whether the monarchy survived or—”  

“We’ll just be careful, Penny! Where does mom want us to go? Bole? Na’arthen? Those states are so far from here! I wont see anyone again!”  

“You’re just thirteen, so I will excuse your stupidity. “ she sighs, fluttering her eyelashes. “If the monarchy is dead, Myonna, then Vahaltmir will attack and we will all die.”  

“Vahaltmir? I thought they were an ally.” I say, and Myo laughs. It angers me, and I fold my hands, waiting for her to stop.  

“You clearly don’t know anything.” She says after what feels like an hour of me waiting. I take a deep breath, stepping back.   

“W-will there really be a war?” I ask. I can’t help the quietness that now latches onto my voice. I’ve heard stories about war. They aren’t pretty. People die. Old, young. Some are slaughtered with their unborn still in tow.  

Penny notices the change in my voice and she sighs, coming closer to me and wrapping her hands around me in embrace. She rubs her soft hands on my back.  

“That’s why we have to get away, Myo. I know you have a connection with this place. We all do. But we have to do what’s best for us.”  

“What about everyone else? The people who don’t have the money to move state?” 

A beat passes before she answers. “Honestly...I don’t know. If there is going to be a war, Oryon will be the first to fall.”  

“That’s why you want me to fight.”  

“I don’t want what happened to her to happen to you, Myo. I love you far too much for that.”  

I brush her hand away. “Enough with the sap. I need to wash off.” She laughs as I skip away to the front door. This time its her that doesn’t move forward from where she stands. 

“Are you coming?”  

She hesitates before she answers. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”  

I twist the wood door handle, fighting the urge to say something stupid as I walk inside the house, my feet tracking mud. Usually, my mom would be screaming her head off at the mud footprints, but today her and dad are seated around our modest dining table, deep in conversation.  

Mom is the first to see me, and alerts my father that I’m here so he keeps quiet. She turns to me, wrinkles expanding as she smiles. “Myo. How was training today?”  

“It was good. I beat her ass.”  

“Language!” Father reprimands. Mama laughs, then notices my feet. Her eyes follow the mud trail to the door.  

“Myonna—”  

“I know, I know.” I say, walking to the back of the kitchen to grab a mop. I keep it beside the front door. “I’ll clean it when I’ve washed it all off from my legs.”  

“As you should. You reek.”  

“Thanks mother.” I raise an eyebrow, and she cant help but smile. Dad tells me to go have a bath first instead, and ignoring mama’s signature death glare, I turn around and walk down the hall to the bathroom.  

Once I get to the small bath, I turn on the faucet and let the cold water run into the round tub. The cramped room is lit only by a dying candle placed by the door, and in the serenity I sit cross legged on the floor and find myself breaking down. Gaia has been peaceful for eons. No significant tribal wars. No assassinations. No raiders. The coming war will purge a lot of things back to the surface, and I fear for what will be left of Gaia when it is over.  

My family are Iahna. We believe that the gods exist, but instead of being all powerful beings that created the universe, they used a taboo process known as isiya to give themselves more and more affinities until they grew so powerful they could command all the forces of the universe. We believe they are powerful, but not immortal. Not infallible.  

My nails dig into my own skin. If it is not certain that even the gods will survive, how will we fare? How will I fare? I only know my way around a staff. My taming abilities are horrible, and a measly piece of wood is no match for a blade. How will my friends fare? They know even less than I do.  

The sound of water overflowing from the tub jolts me from my thoughts as I rush to turn it off. After taking a few seconds to inspect the tub before undressing myself, I sink into the cold, the soreness of my muscles dissolving once they touch the water.  

I submerge myself in the water, my limbs floating. Here, it is perfect peace, where nobody can hurt me, not even myself.  

For a few minutes I stay like that, listening quietly to the sounds around the house. Mama and father talking in hushed tones, Penny walking upstairs to check on the crying Gabriel, the almost muted sound of the flame on the wick dying. 

I don’t know how long I last before I’m out cold.  

... 

. . .  

.  .  .  .  

I jolt up from sleep, splashing water around the room that puts out the burning candle. Unsurprisingly, the voice in my head vanishes so fast I don’t even remember what it sounded like. Dumbfounded, I look around the room to confirm I’m alone. As I thought, I am.  

What was it saying? Its like the words are in my grasp, but I cant exactly take them. I know they felt more than man. It didn’t feel real.  

I settle myself. It was probably just a dream, Myonna.  

“One weird dream.” I whisper to myself.   

Muscles tense, I drain the tub into the tank below and put on a loose fit purple nightgown. Outside, activities for the day have already obviously ended. The family room is empty, and everywhere is silent save for the crickets chirping outside the window.  

The trail of mud has already been cleaned for me, and the mop set back in the kitchen. How did I fall asleep for so long?  

Outside, the moon is high up in the sky, and stars twinkle around it in unison. Its a beautiful sight, and before I know it I find myself outside, covered in a frock coat, staring up at them. My staff is also in hand. Despite how useless it is compared to anything else, I never leave home without it.  

My feet take on a life of their own, walking down the dusty road. We live isolated from other houses for a good one mile. The only other things on our road and in our immediate vicinity are second hand good stalls and a market that mama rarely even buys from anymore.  

I don’t for the life of me understand why they chose to live so far away from anyone, but I guess it provides us with some sense of peace. That, however, is one pro in a sea of cons.  

As I walk further, a feeling of trepidation settles around me. I stop in my tracks, staring at the forest beyond. My grip involuntarily tenses on my staff. Something is coming. I can feel it in the way my bones tremble.  

I turn around only to be faced with nothing. The torches lighting the streets are blown out by a cold wind. My legs shake as I try to hold onto the strength in my voice. 

“Hello?”  

My only response is the howling of the wind. I turn fully, slowly making my way back home. I shouldn’t have come out. I’m so stupid. If mama finds out that I went outside after dark, she would never let me hear the end of it. 

Out of the darkness a figure cloaked by night jumps onto the path before me. I stumble backward as it raises its snout up into the night and lets out a howl.  

Direwolf.  

My heart slams against my ribcage as every bone in my body lurches forward. I scramble to my feet, watching as two other wolves that stand as tall as I move to flank the larger one in the middle.  

“Oh sh—”  

The beast makes a loud growling sound as it pounds forward, its grey silver fur shining against the moonlight. Its eyes are dilated with hunger.  

As I turn, running away, my nightgown billowing in the howling cold winds, the wolves chasing after me, something my old teacher used to say pries its way into my mind.  

Some are born to feast.  

“Some are born to feast.” I whisper to myself, muscles bulging as I race into the acacia forest beyond. Sharp branches scrape against my knees as I push on, hearing the three large monsters of night ripping through bark and wood as they charge at me, snarling and growling.  

One of them almost gets me, using its razor sharp claws to dig into the dirt a hairs length away from me. I trip over a thorny branch, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins helps me recover quickly.  

I run, run and run. I run until I cant hear anything but my own frigid breaths and the incessant beating of my heart.  

Once I cant hear the wolves again, I stop, resting on a large tree trunk. The moon is hidden by the canopy of trees, so I find myself shrouded within the confines of this. . .place. I’ve only ever passed through this forest once, and its known to be very safe, at least by the people that live in our small neighbourhood of Daghagen. Direwolves are always up in the snowy peaks, never here. Certainly not in Daghagen.  

After a few more seconds of silence, I hear a growl behind me. Its low at first, so low I mistake it for a trick of sound—then it grows louder, and suddenly the very tree I’m resting on is snapped from the ground, its roots gripping onto it like thick spider webs.  

Behind me is a direwolf.  

I scream as the beast wrestles with the roots of the tree, its large teeth clamped down into the bark like its a soft serving of cake.  

It throws the tree to its side and I hear it crash with an earth shattering thud that sends me to my back. I reach for my staff but the wolf presses its paws onto my arm, breaking them upon impact.  

I retract my screams. For myself and everyone who will cry over my coffin, I hold it back. I curl inward and bleed inside, alone, where no-one else can see. If I scream, more direwolves will come. I will be barely a snack to them, then they will find my family. They will kill them, and they will not show no mercy.  

Some of the tamer chants I’ve been taught come to mind. Trying to steady my voice, I start, but my voice shakes as I speak. The magic of the ether leaves me with the words. “Di alẹ alẹ pẹlu aṣọ fadaka, fi eti si ọrọ mi ki o má ṣe ṣan. Tunu. Ki o dakẹ titi tic oju rẹ fi sunmọ, gbọ ọrọ mi, Fetisi si ọrọ mi.”  

For a few seconds the eyes of the direwolf lose their bright red hue, but then it comes back greater than before. I gulp. It didn’t work.  

It growls again, and I close my eyes, trying not to reminisce on my failure and instead playing dead. My outstretched fingers just barely grip the dusty wood of my staff, and with a deep breath, I grab it.  

The direwolf roars, its jaws stretched wide open so I can see the array of flesh and teeth inside. With my final burst of energy I use my good hand to shove the length of my staff forcibly down the throat of the beast. 

 It growls as it flips over, trying to push me off its body, but I climb on its furry coat, my broken arm dangling as I use all my strength to push the staff deeper and deeper into it. Blood leaks from its mouth, pooling on the rose bushes behind it and tainting it a shade of red so dark its almost black.  

It manages to growl once more before I grab hold of the sides of the staff and let all my rage out. Screaming, I dig my nails into the wood as I slam it into the back of his throat. I don’t break its bone, but I hear it crack before the direwolf lets out a troubled moan.  

Its eyes close and its claws fall limply. My breathing is ragged and hard as I pull the staff from its throat, hearing bone slush. Once the staff is out, I let out a deep sigh, falling to its side of the now dead creature.  

With the side of my eye, I spy my still intact wood staff and the carving of the Bakunawa on it, now tainted with the blood if a direwolf. Maybe the hunk of wood isn’t so useless after all.  

I turn around and rest on my back, staring through the spot in the canopy of leaves where the now fallen tree used to be. The shining of the stars offers me calm.  

Then I hear a soft mewl.  

Turning to my left, I see the dying direwolf wobble as it tries to stand, its jaws still spilling blood. I grab my staff, pointing it at it threateningly. Just die already. It stalks forward, its body convulsing.  

I thrust forward with the staff, but I miss.  

The direwolf doesn’t.  

With its final burst of life, it lunges at me, pushing me backward with a force. I am pushed backward by its large claws towards a sudden cliff edge beyond the forest. I stumble before falling, involuntarily letting go of my staff. Suddenly, I find myself in the air, screaming for dear life. 

I don’t even have time to adjust before I find myself free falling at breakneck speed towards the horrifying unknown below.