blood. She grabbed Sila by her arm and dragged her back to the village.
“Let me go, I have to help Ava,” cried Sila.
“You will get yourself killed, you silly child,” the priestess replied in a harsh voice. “Our men have arrived, leave the fighting to them.”
“But she is in so much pain,” protested Sila while she struggled to free herself.
The high priestess did not speak another word and dragged Sila towards the village. She did not let go until she pushed Sila into her little cottage.
“Mam!”
Her mother paced back and forth restlessly. As soon as she saw Sila she took her in her arms. “My little girl, I was so afraid when I lost you. I wanted to go back and look for you, but Fara stopped me and said she would look after you.” She held Sila away from her body. “Are you okay?” Worried eyes investigated her.
“Yes, I am fine. But Ava is in so much pain, mam. The yellow haired are so mean. Their axes can harm the stones. How is that possible? A stone that is protected by the Cireara cannot be harmed by any of the elements, right?”
Her mother hugged her again. “I don’t know sweetheart, I don’t know. Their axes had a weird glow. I have never seen such stone before. We have to trust our men; they will drive away the yellow haired.”
Sila sat by the fire and clutched her hands tightly together. She closed her eyes and new images appeared before her mind’s eye. A creature clenched herself tightly to the standing stone. It was not Ava’s stone but the stone next to her. Her yellow wings, if that was what they were, were folded around the stone and shimmered softly in the light of the burning stones. An axe cut right through the wing and the creature cried in pain. A golden substance poured out of the spot where the axe had hurt her yellow wing. The shimmer disappeared and all that remained was a dull, grey color.
A new cry cut right through Sila. The despair overwhelmed her and she cringed.
“Sila.” Her mother grabbed her. “What’s wrong?”
“The yellow haired are killing the Cireara and damaging the stones,” sobbed Sila. “We have to do something.”
At the same moment her father entered. Blood gushed from a wound on his shoulder. “There are too many yellow haired.” he panted. “Their axes are made from a material that is harder than I have ever seen.” He staggered and fell on his knees. All the color had left his face. “We have to flee. I... I don’t see another option.”
Sila only half heard the last words of her father. The screaming in her head grew louder. The shiny surface of an axe hovered above her head. Without really knowing what she was doing, she sent an image to Ava. She had to withdraw her wing when the axe came down. Ava obeyed and withdrew her wing. The axe cleaved in the stone and missed Ava’s wing by a hair. A deep crack was visible when the axe was pulled free. Ava moaned and Sila felt the grief with her.
“I have to do something,” she mumbled and stumbled out of the house. She sought her way through the cottages towards Brea. When she pushed away the hanging, she saw what she had feared. The old woman lay on the ground, her face paler than the moon and her eyes wide open. Sila walked towards her and took her hand. Her breathing was quick and shallow.
“Brea, the yellow Cireara, that was your sister,” whispered Sila.
“They killed her,” mumbled Brea. “They killed my big sister. I felt her pain.”
“I am so sorry Brea, but you need to help me. If we do nothing, all the Cireara will die.” Sila forced the cries of fear and pain that Ava constantly sent her to the background. “We have to take the Cireara to safety, but how and where?”
“So much pain,” mumbled Brea and she closed her eyes.
Sila grabbed the old woman by her shoulders and shook her. “Please, Brea.”
“Cannot live without her,” she mumbled.
“Brea, help me!” cried Sila desperately.
The woman opened her eyes and looked at Sila. “The Kennet Long Barrow, the old burial chamber there is well hidden and only known to our people. Bring them there.”
“All right, the hill, but how do I get them there? The Cireara cannot let go of the stones.”
“Can live no more,” said Brea and she again closed her eyes. Her breathing stopped and her head fell to the right.
“Brea, no!”
The old woman did not respond anymore. Sila pushed her hands against her temples when Ava sent her another image. Color drained from a red Cireara as she flapped her wings frantically. Her body shrank and stretched in her desperate flight. Sila visualized herself running in the direction of the Cireara. “I am coming,” she mumbled while she ran out of the cottage. In her hurry she almost bumped into the high priestess. Fara grabbed her arm. “You are a sister of the Cireara now. Can you see what is happening?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Sila. “The Cireara are being killed by the yellow haired. We have to bring them to the Kennet Long Barrow.” Sila expected that the high priestess would send her back to her mother but to her surprise she nodded.
“Good, give me a few heartbeats. I will call the strongest priestesses, and then we will go together.” Instead of running away, the high priestess took a piece of coal out of her pouch. She whispered some words and the coal started to smolder. Only a few heartbeats later, priestesses came running from all directions. Judging from the burning marks in some of the dresses of the priestesses, they carried similar coals as the high priestess.
“We have to get the Cireara to safety,” said Fara. “Sila will tell us what to do.”
They hurried to the stones, aided by the Goddess who lit their path. The yellow haired had free reign. Most of them hacked on the stones like crazy, their faces red from the effort. The strange material of their axes shimmered in the moonlight. Their efforts had the desired result; chopped off pieces of stone lay everywhere. Other men were busy gathering the stones in sacks and loading the sacks on carts. Sila barely recognized some of the standing stones due to the severe damage that had been done. Sila gestured to the other priestess that they had to be silent. An idea formed in her mind. They could not carry the standing stones to the barrow, but they could carry the large pieces of debris that were scattered around. The Cireara would be able to hold on to the pieces of debris.
Pain soared through her temples again. Two axes hit Ava’s stone and she desperately tried to avoid the blows. A piece of stone came loose and fell on the ground with a thud. The high priestess laid her hands on Sila’s head. The pain decreased and Sila carefully formed an image in her head. She showed Ava the piece of fallen stone and tried to remember Ava’s wings as well as she could. She folded the wings around the stone and then showed two priestesses, who picked up the stone and carried it away. She imagined another piece of debris, this time showing green wings. The other Cireara should do this as well. Sila sent the images and words with all the strength she had in her. An image returned. This time there was no pain but a feeling that resembled joy. Ava folded her wings around the piece of fallen stone.
“They are doing it!” Sila cried.
“Doing what?” Fara asked.
“The Cireara that are still alive will clamp themselves to the chopped off stone pieces. We can then pick up these stones and bring them to the barrow. We can only save a small part of our stones like this, but it is better than nothing.”
“It’s a good plan,” Fara replied.
“But how do we take away the pieces of stone without the yellow haired noticing?” one of the priestesses asked.
“I will take care of that,” replied Fara. “As soon as the yellow haired are distracted, you get the stones and carry them to the barrow. Understood?”
The priestesses bowed respectfully, “Understood, high priestess.”
Fara walked toward the yellow haired, her back straight and her shoulders backward. With her slow but determined pace she commanded their attention.
“What do you want, stonewoman?” one of the yellow haired yelled with a heavy accent.
The high priestess again took
a wooden figure from her pouch. Sila gasped when it burst into a big, floating ball of fire. “Does Fara have many of those figures?” she asked the priestess standing next to her.
“I fear not,” whispered the priestess. “I think she only has the Natukra of force left.”
“Behold the power of the Goddess, yellow haired,” Fara said. “Her wraith will fall upon you for this terrible deed.”
The men stopped hacking and all looked at Fara.
“Now,” Sila whispered. They spread out to the stones that the four Cireara held onto. Together with two high priestesses, Sila took Ava’s stone and they carried it into the shadows. At the same moment, Sila heard a woman scream. One of the yellow haired had blocked the way of the priestesses carrying the stone with the green Cireara.
“Let them go!” Fara threw the ball of fire in the direction of the biggest group of yellow haired. Screams sounded and the men that blocked the way of the priestesses ran towards their comrades to extinguish the fire.
From that moment onwards they ran. Fara led the way to the hill and Sila’s lungs burned while she carried the stone with the two priestesses. She had often walked from the stones to the barrow, but now the distance seemed to have doubled. They had only just reached the foot of the hill, when the torches of the men came into sight.
“Carry on, priestesses, only a short way to go now.” The words did not help one of the priestesses that carried the stone with the green Cireara.