Still Earth

CHAPTER 1

I can Sense him before I hear him call my name. He walks with purpose, creating sharp, thrumming pulses through the Earth. From the way he favors his left leg, I suspect he still aches from our training session yesterday. A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, though it abruptly falls the moment he peers around the entry.

“Hello Hum, I’m sorry to bother. Gilli isn’t feeling well, and the Elders have asked that you take her place today at the river.” 

It isn’t a request — it never is. Not from Taio, or from anyone in the village, for that matter. Work is not something we do as favors for one another. 

“Ah, poor Gilli.” I sit up from my bed. I had been enjoying a day off my duties. “I’ll head out at once.”

Taio nods approvingly. “Before you do, Great Elder Luco wishes to see you.” He pauses for a moment, his black eyes lingering at the cloth bandages wrapped snugly around my feet. “You should consider removing those today. Recent rains have loosened the soil. You’ll need traction to keep your feet below you.” 

I look down. My toes twitch unconsciously beneath the fabric. “Fair points —  but training is most valuable when it’s challenging, isn’t it?” I smirk, winking quickly in his direction, allowing my gaze to flicker briefly to his injured leg. 

Taio’s nostrils flare, and I can feel the shift in his body: the way he pulses slightly on his toes. His voice drops low with irritation. “Perhaps a little stumble would be good to humble you, then. You might be inclined to learn your limits, for a change.” 

“Still feeling a little testy after yesterday’s spars, are we?” He responds with a turned back and a swatting gesture over his shoulder. My smirk returns in full force. “Shall we let off a little steam when I return?” 

He ignores me, and I Sense his gait shift — no doubt to compensate for the limp I left him with yesterday. 

Taio’s warning echoes in my mind. He makes a fair point: beyond traction, it is much harder to Channel without full contact with the Earth. It’s like trying to see through a fog, or push a cart through mud. Yet the Tribe cannot grow stronger if its people do not; and so, I tighten the knots of my bandages, gather the tunic in my arms, and head out for the far side of the village. 

Our village is a small speck on the vast expanse of the landscape, made all the more obvious by our elevation. One could walk to the far side and back again before the sun shifts its position. With so little vegetation atop our plateau, the far ledge is always within vision — except, perhaps, on the rare days where a low-lying cloud rolls through. 

I know every name and face of my Tribemembers. I see many of them as I make my way west towards the center of the village. Though most are preoccupied with their own tasks —  splitting wood, repairing the clay in the ovens, tending to the children  — all straighten up and wave when they see me.

A smile inevitably spreads across my face as laughter echoes out from the village center, where smoke billows up from the firepits. 

“Oh come now! It’s been years, Vetta. Years. There’s more than one love for us all.” Elyro’s voice, as always, booms.

I can practically hear my Tribemother roll her eyes in response. “Indeed there is, Elyro. There was Temmen when I was still in my school years, and Friena after my flowering, and Kumo after that.” 

Yezna, the third of their little trio, is quick to reply. “Don’t forget about that traveler from the west — what was her name?” Something in Yezna’s voice makes me certain that she recalls exactly what her name was.

I get close enough to catch the wistful expression on my Tribemother’s face as she looks away. “Ah, Oriba. I loved her too. But only as one loves the flash of green light before sunset. It is only to be loved because it was never meant to last.” 

Elyro scowls in response. “I never did like her.” 

“And what, exactly, was her sin, Elyro?” Vetta asks gently, “Aside from not being born on this plateau, I mean?”

Elyro opens her mouth to reply — something cutting, I suspect, by the look on her face — when Yezna interrupts, “Oh! Hum’s here!” 

Vetta makes no acknowledgment, though I am certain she can Sense my footsteps. I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze them tightly. She sinks slightly into her stool, lifting her hands from their labors to pat my own. She leaves little handprints of dirt on them.

“Ah, little Pebble, what brings you this way on your day off?” She lifts my hands to her lips to kiss them.

I bow my head respectfully to her companions. “Yezna, Elder Elyro, it is a pleasure to see you both, as always.” I lean forward, over Vetta’s shoulders to catch her eye. “Gilli’s feeling unwell, and I’m off to cover for her at the river.” 

“Pah!” Elyro grunts, brushing a large clump of dirt off the potato in her hand. “Gilli is fine. The only thing unwell about that girl is her work ethic.” I hold my tongue. Elyro’s growing age and status entitles her to such boldness. Yezna and I are many, many years off from those privileges. 

“We all do our part,” Vetta notes with a gentle tone few would recognize as the reprimand it is. She pats my hand. “Do be careful on the trek down, Pebble. We’ve had more rains than usual.”

Elyro scoffs with a loud pah. “Don’t coddle the child, Vetta. It will do her no favors on her path. You’ve always been too gentle with her, especially since…”

“...I will soon have the honor of leading us. Yes, of course Elder Elyro. Wisely spoken.” It is not what Elyro was going to say. I am certain that statement would have ended with, since Master Yuen left, had I let her finish. But, with a long journey ahead, I am in no mood to hear Elyro besmirch the name of my old master. I turn purposefully away from her, towards my Tribemother, who offers a little wrinkle of her nose in solidarity.

Vetta is a small woman, made to look even smaller by her enormous brown eyes, delicate nose, and shortly cropped hair. It is a mystery to us all how she managed to grow me within her tiny frame. I look much like my father did in his younger years: vast shoulders atop a muscular build, broad nose, and squared jaw. But there are features of mine that are undeniably Vetta’s: her warmer skin tone, her full lips, her big brown eyes — even the identical dark freckle, just above my upper lip. Still, beside her, you could be forgiven for thinking me her older sister, instead of her daughter. 

“I’ll be back before sundown. Can I get you anything from the river?” 

“Not at all, child. Just bring yourself back safely.” 

I lean down and kiss her lightly on the forehead, snatching a boiled sweet potato from the pile next to her. I take a big bite before stuffing it into my satchel, saying my goodbyes, and detouring towards Great Elder Luco’s home. Based on Elyro’s scathing tone, I suspect she has reignited talks of Master Yuen. Many share in her resentment; Elder Elyro simply voices it far more passionately than others. There are few things more distrustful to my village than an outsider — foremost among them, those who actually choose to leave.

The walk takes only a few moments. It is at the southernmost edge of the plateau, the point of highest elevation, giving him an unobstructed view of both the village and the surrounding lands. One would have to travel nearly a week east towards the Midland Rise, or west towards the Ostalta Ridge, to find anything that rivals the height of our plateau. Standing at its edge, where Great Elder Luco lives, the sight is awe-inspiring. No matter how many times I have stood in this very spot, I marvel. The world seems endless, and life carries on below. Not a single other settlement is in sight. 

I have to peel my eyes away, lest I delay the Great Elder any longer. He has never had much patience for tardiness. I stand at the entryway of his home. Yet before I have a chance to announce myself, a deep voice bellows from within: “Hum, come in.”

Even in his old age, my Tribefather is an imposing man. He is built like a tree trunk and prides himself on being as hardy as one. Wrinkles line his broad face, framed by waist-length silver hair that falls in messy, tangled waves. He sits on a solid mound of rock, elbows resting on his thick knees, looking pensively towards the ground. His hand does not shake as it beckons me in. 

I take a few steps towards him and stop. I see no seat for me. Great Elder Luco’s eyes flash towards the ground below me before meeting my gaze. He says nothing, but gestures a hand towards the empty space in front of him. 

I was not naive enough to think this might be a casual visit. With our Great Elder, it never is. Head bowed, eyes closed, I prepare myself for my task. I bend my knees slightly and focus on the contact my feet make with the Earth. I can feel the quiet rumblings of the ground beneath me: the unending song from the Great Mother herself. Nice and easy. I take a focusing breath and press into my feet, forcing a small, stout pillar of Earth to rise beneath me. It bumps ungracefully into my tailbone, and I wince. 

Great Elder Luco takes interest in all the members of the village, meeting with each of them in rotation throughout the year. However, most of my Tribepeople are called in once every few seasons, at most. He has taken to calling on me around once every couple weeks; and every time, it is the same:

“I see you are still struggling with tempering yourself.” It is not a question.

A knot in my chest tightens. “Indeed I am.”

“I would not be so concerned if your raw power were not so impressive. As you know, there are consequences, good and bad, to the Gifts you have been given by our Great Mother.” He nods thoughtfully. “Tell me, what maneuver gave Taio that limp I saw him trying to hide today?”

My hands clench in my lap. “It was a leg sweep.”

He waits. 

“Taio’s stance was too wide,” I explain. “I suspect he was aiming for more stability, to compensate for the blows to his upper body. He did not account for the instability he would experience if one of his legs were taken out from under him.”

“Tactical. Yet such a stance also prohibits quick repositioning. You could have taught him the same lesson by forcing a dodge, and thus sparing him his leg and his dignity. What prevented you from making such a decision in the moment?”

I try not to shift in my seat. “Master Yuen described my fighting style as…unrelenting. I am still working on exercising more restraint.” The irony is not lost on me: Master Yuen left me limping on more occasions than I can count.

“Yes, I suspect training has been more difficult since her departure.” He speaks with practiced pragmatism. “Remember, however, that you have the wisdom of every member of our Tribe, all here to aid you in your path. I am sure you will develop all the skills you need, even without her.”

“Yes, Great Elder.” My voice tightens with emotion. I bow my head. “I will do my best.” 

He sighs. The sound is soft, almost wistful. He reaches out and places a massive hand on my shoulder. It carries more weight than a hand should. “You always do, Hum. I am certain it is why the Great Mother chose you. Keep that in mind as you continue to hone yourself.”  

I look up to see a gentle smile on his face. It fills my heart. “Thank you, Great Elder. I will.” 

He pulls back his hand then, interlacing his fingers together. His expression grows stoic once again. “I understand you are to replace Gilli at the river today. Elder Elyro has voiced concerns about your Tribesister’s work ethic. I have no doubt she has shared them with you. What is your take?” 

The glimmer in his eye suggests that he has come to the right conclusion already. He is simply determining whether or not I am capable of coming to the same one. I straighten my spine.

“I’m sure you have noticed that Gilli has more trouble breathing than most, especially when exerting herself. It appears to be a permanent condition. Unless we have a treatment for such an ailment, I believe more intense physical activity would only put her at risk.” 

He bobs his head slowly. “What would you recommend, then?” 

My voice grows a bit clearer with confidence. “Gilli is still a very capable young woman. I’m sure we can find a way for her to contribute consistently, without endangering her health. Perhaps we might make an exception, and allow her to join in on the tasks of the Elderwives. She has always been a talented cook.” 

Great Elder Luco does not smile, but his face beams with approval. “We must each do what we can — nothing more, nothing less. You continue to raise us higher, Hum.”

I stand and bow. But as I turn to leave, I am surprised to hear Elder Luco speak again. “Did you notice anything different to the east?” 

He must be referring to the moments I spent lingering at the cliffside. Of course he noticed my delay. “No, Elder, I did not.” 

“One of the tallest trees, just behind the Four Peaks, has been felled. That tree has been there longer than this plateau. Its influence has been felt by our Tribe for generations.” He pauses, and the silence feels heavy. “It was too healthy, too well-rooted to have fallen on its own.”

“It was taken down, then?” I ask. “Do you think another tribe seeks to make their home so close?” 

Elder Luco’s nostrils flare in response. “That is but one of many undesirable possibilities.”   

I want to press him for more, but the finality of his tone tells me our conversation is over.