There’s a knock on my door, waking me from my sleep. I get up and trudge to my door, my stomach knotting around itself. Today I turn eighteen. I should be happy, excited… but I’m not. Instead, I’m filled with fear and uncertainty.
And the thing I’m most afraid of is the full moon tonight.
I slowly open the door, expecting one of the Tribe Leaders, or all of them, to be standing outside of it, ready to quiz me. Instead, there is nothing but the light of the rising sun.
I take a step out of my house, looking around. Something to my right catches my eye, pulling my attention over to the figure. A girl about ten years of age shuffles through the center of my village holding two large stone buckets of freshly boiled seawater. She stumbles and staggers, almost falling over and dropping the water buckets a few times as I stand there watching. I glance around. Maybe someone will help her.
But everyone else is asleep.
I focus on her again, and, after confirming the animal hides were secure over the scales on my legs, I rush to help her. She looks up at me with tired eyes, startled. No one ever helps the people that bring the water. They’re afraid these people might have accidentally touched the water and that they never report it.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “Let me help you.”
She begins to refuse, to reject my offer and say it’s her job and she can do it, but I shake my head.
“Here,” I say, taking the long stick off her neck and placing it on mine. “No one will know. Everyone’s sleeping.”
She smiles a small smile. “Thank you.”
I grin back. I recognize her. She’s one of the girls that hangs around Lily-flor sometimes.
“I’m Sar-ee,” she says quietly.
“Nice to meet you,” I respond politely, making conversation with the little girl. “My name is Cressa-la.”
“I know,” she says as we reach the Bathing House, the one with the man-made well inside of it. “Everyone knows who you are.”
I glance at her, confused, and her face turns red. “I—I mean, you’re turning reaching year eighteen… Almost none of us make it that far.”
I readjust the stick on my back and turn sideways. “You just have to stay aware of everything, is all. Open the door, would you?”
She nods and jumps to do as I say. I side step inside and set the stone buckets down one at a time by tipping the stick one way and then the other. The water makes soft sloshing sounds.
“Thank you,” Sar-ee repeats, looking shyly down at the ground.
“You’re welcome,” I nod, smiling kindly at her.
Sar-ee shifts her weight uncomfortably and stares at the dirt floor. She walks quietly over to one of the buckets, almost as if making any loud noise would scare me away. Her tiny body drags it over to the well as she tries not to catch my eye.
“Hey.” I make my way over to her and help her drag the bucket the rest of the way. “We all need help sometimes. We can’t do everything alone.”
My own advice strikes a chord in my heart as the hypocrisy of my sentence touches my brain. I really do work better alone though… So I let the meaning of it hollow out as the words hang in the air.
She looks up at me and smiles. Her mood shifts from unease into something happier. I wonder if I’m the first to ever help her. I sure hope not.
We dump the first and then the second bucket into the well and set the hollow bucket-shaped stones to the side. We don’t say a word as we turn back to walk out the door.
The risen sun blinds us as the door swings open, and I have to blink several times. I make out blurry figures standing all around us. And then faces come into view.
The Tribe Leaders stand outside of the Bathing House, smiling. They clap as we walk out.
“Wha…?”
Kan-ner slaps me on the back, interrupting my question.
I catch a glimpse of Sar-ee as she beams up at me, clapping too.
“Congratulations, Cressa-la.” Rai-si smiles as he walks up to me. “You passed the first test.”
“What?” I croak, a smile of my own tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“Humility, the first trait of a Tribe Leader,” Tani-mah says, her eyes still as sharp and piercing as they were last night. “Congratulations.”
The rest of the Tribe Leaders slap me on the back and offer congratulations. As soon as I reach the edge of the crowd, Yurt-sah and Marin-na are standing with their arms crossed across their chest and wearing serious faces.
“You will have five tests,” Yurt-sah says, his chest heaving with each word. He smiles sheepishly. “Minus that last test.”
“The second one will test your better judgment. Fail it and you will not become a Tribe Leader. Follow us.” Marin-na turns sharply and walks in the opposite direction of me.
I take in a big gulp of air and walk with them. They march to the stone where we set and dress our food. Rai-si and Tani-mah say something to the rest of the villagers and they all begin to walk to where we now stand.
“Stand on top of the Feasting Table,” Yurt-sah bellows after turning fully around to face me. He holds out his hand to help me up.
I place my hands in spots that aren’t stained red with blood and push myself up, waving Yurt-sah’s hand away. Many times I’ve scaled this island without anyone else’s help, and I’m sure I can climb on top of this by myself too.
I get my knee up, being careful not to disturb the animal skin reaching above my knee.
Once standing, I stare down at Yurt-sah and Marin-na. They peer up at me, smiles playing on their faces. Uncertainty hits me like a tidal wave. I don’t remember what happened during the next few stages of becoming a Tribe Leader. It’s been two years since it’s happened, but I feel as if I should recall the memory, considering I’d been steadfast on becoming one myself growing up.
“Why don’t I remember?” I whisper to the sky.
“Are you okay?” Marin-na asks, her long black hair swaying behind her as she changes her stance, pulling her dark hands up to her temples. Yurt-sah does the same.
“Yes,” I nod, swallowing fear and calming the churning of my stomach. “I just… don’t remember this happening to anyone else.”
“It’s because everyone’s different, Cressa-la,” Yurt-sah smiles reassuringly. “So we make them different.”
“But… but you don’t understand—I don’t remember seeing anyone go through the process to become a Tribe Leader.”
Hushed voices dance across the mouths of my people as I finish my explanation. Marin-nah looks back at Rai-si and he nods, eyeing me. Tani-mah stands beside him, seeming to watch me even more carefully than her husband. Kan-ner and Lup-mem stand on either side of them, paying attention to Yurt-sah and Marin-na.
I gulp nervously again, my heart picking up its pace.
Marin-na turns back around and nods to Yurt-sah, ignoring my statement. The crowd falls silent.
The two Tribe Leaders before me close their eyes and sway side to side slowly as if they’re moving to the beat of the same invisible drum. They begin to hum quietly.
I glance down at Rai-si, but he does nothing to tell me everything will be okay.
I take a shaky breath and lace my fingers together, stretching my arms above my head.
Their humming has grown louder, approaching its climax.
I fill my lungs with air.
And then I almost fall off the rock.
Blue light dances around me, my vision taken over with the intensity of the color. Animals of all kinds fly around me, their bodies made of only light. I close my eyes as it grows brighter and brighter. Escalating, chaotic sounds fill my ears. They’re of laughter, of screams, of pain, of joy. They’re of death, of life, of music, of nature.
I cover my ears and sink to the rock.
“Make it stop!” I cry, but my voice is drowned out by the sounds, its volume rising by the second.
I cry out once more—and everything stops. Everything is still. Everything is quiet.
I open my eyes.
>
Before me stands my tribe. They watch me with eager eyes, tainted with confusion. I stand slowly.
“That’s it?” I ask.
And then water begins to crash through my village.
“Watch out!” I cry, waving my hands. My people twist to see over their shoulders, back at where I point. “Move! Get to higher land!”
Save them, Cressa-la.
The familiar voice sends a chill down my spine and I freeze.
Use your gift.
The water sprints toward them.
“Why aren’t you moving?” I gasp, my mouth suddenly dry.
Save them.
“What do you want from me?”
And then I see Lily-flor. Running. Running from the water.
It swallows her whole.
“No!” I cry, falling off the rock. The ground hits me hard and I scramble up. I stagger to the water, my blood filled with adrenaline but my body heavy as stones. “Lily-flor!”
“Cress…!”I hear.
It’s her.
The chilling voice in my head chuckles.
I see an image of Tamir flash into my head. He holds his hands out, making the water move from around me.
I mimic him.
The water moves away from Lily-flor.
She lies on the ground.
Her chest is still. Her eyes are open.
And all I can hear is my heartbeat.
I let out a cry and pull my hand to the side as I turn away. The water parts and dodges my tribe, not a drop harming them. A high-pitched squeal passes by, and I catch a glimpse at a long, gray fish whip by, the laughter in my head fading out.
The deluge disappears and I glance at Lily-flor’s body. A tear threatens to make its way down my cheek. It would have fallen if the light animals didn’t appear from the trees and circle around me again, struggling to shove me back into reality.
Confusion courses through me.
“What?” I ask as the sounds rising again.
I feel myself begin to walk. I see nothing, but I know I’m headed somewhere. My feet stop.
The animals disappear and I stand on top of the cliff, overlooking the water.
I’m gazing over the edge, sharp rocks and raging seas below me. The sight is both breathtaking and startling. I stagger backwards, away from the ledge. My body doesn’t like standing that close—it’s as if I’m going to tumble over it at any given moment.
Something sharp pokes me in the shoulder. I turn around to see the Wurn Tribe girl that had taken me captive pointing her spear at me. A smirk tugs at her face as an abrupt mix of fear and anger surge through of me.
“You,” I spit.
“Jump or they all die,” she sneers, cackling echoing from behind her.
I peek over her shoulder.
Behind her stands the rest of my tribe. The Wurn Tribe holds several blades up to their necks, sneering and smiling. My eyes lock onto Rai-si’s. He shakes his head, telling me not to do it.
“Why?” I ask, fear churning around in my chest.
“Jump, Initi Girl,” she snarls, jabbing me with the spear and drawing blood.
I take a step back, and my heel touches nothing but air.
I pitch forward as I regain my balance, my heart leaping into my chest as I try to distance myself from the edge. Jagged rocks poke up from the raging sea, the foamy whiteness drowned out by another large wave. My breath hitches in my throat.
“Jump or they all die.”
I snap my head around. “You’d just kill them all?”
She nods, a smirk playing on her round face.
I take an unsteady breath and swallow every emotion pushing through my body. Anger. Rage. Sickness. Fear.
“One less tribe to worry about,” she snickers.
Disgust. Shame. Courage.
“Jump.”
Longing. Uncertainty.
“Now.”
Love.
“Okay,” I breathe.
I lean back. Grab her wrist. Dodge the spear.
Plunge to the bottom.
But something stops me.
Rocks don’t touch me. The bright blue light is back. The noises have returned. And then I feel myself being lifted up.
The sound goes away. The light fades. My tribe stares eagerly down at me from the edge of the cliff. Tani-mah is at the front with her arms crossed and her face hard.
Rai-si, Kan-ner, and Lup-mem pull ropes, grunting from the weight. My weight.
I had plunged off the side of the island. Granted, the trees would have broken my fall once again, but if that net hadn’t have been there…
Maybe I would have been broken by the trees.
I gawk at the distance to the ground, my heart leaping in my chest. Had I really fallen that far not that long ago? It seemed like a much shorter distance then.
The net holding me is one used to capture prey, one that isn’t normally placed where it is at this moment. Did they know I was going to jump?
Once I’m to the top, the men help me back onto solid ground.
I’m going to be sick.
“Did I pass?” I croak, looking down at the ground.
Marin-na and Yurt-sah make their way through the anxious crowd gathered around me. They stop when they make it through, and I wearily shift my eyes up to them. They’re tired and sweaty like I am, resting their hands on their hips.
“Good job, Cressa-la,” Yurt-sah smiles. “You passed.”
Everyone cheers and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Yet I can’t help but notice Tani-mah as she stares at me icily, her arms folded across her body. She’s never been impressed by anything I’ve done, but this is a new thing entirely. Something teeters in her eyes, like she’s not quite sure what to do with me just yet.
Someone slaps my back. I pull my focus away from her only to refocus once again. She walks up to me.
“Congratulations.” Her voice is sharp. “Time for test number three. Follow me.”
I do as she says. She leads me to the Wall of the Dead. I tear my eyes away. I know what I’ll find. It’ll be the first name.
“For this test, I will tell you what to do. We must learn from our pasts, not regret them. There is a name on here that makes you uneasy,” she says, stepping away from the worn stone. “I want you to look at it.”
Stubbornly, I shake my head.
“Look at it, Cressa-la,” she says quietly but firmly.
I take a breath and glance everywhere but the tall block of wood.
And then I force my eyes to fall upon its surface, taking in every detail, every nick in the old cut down tree. I see her name etched in a handwriting that isn’t mine. Etched in by someone that should have been me.
Tears leap into my eyes and a knot ties in my throat.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
A hand wraps around mine. I jump. For a reason unknown, my heart longs for it to be the boy from the sea—but it is equally warmed when I look down and see Lily-flor. My head is confused at first, but then it reminds itself that what happened to her was just a test, a vision of some sort.
“Yes you can,” she says, her eyes glowing with intensity.
I squat down beside her, her face blurry from the tears in my eyes.
“I believe in you,” she whispers.
It makes me smile and I pull her in for a hug.
“Thank you, Lily-flor,” I say softly to her. My legs find their strength again and I stand, looking straight at her name. The woman that raised me.
“Now say it out loud.”
My eyes dart up to Tani-mah. Her eyes are like stones. She won’t ask again. It’s now or never. And I’m not throwing my life away because of something that happened in the past. Forgive and forget. And this is the moment where I need to forgive myself.
I take a deep, rickety breath. “Nan-ah.”
She touches her temples like Yurt-sah and Marin-na had, her eyes focused on me.
“Again.”
Forgive
and forget.
“Nan-ah.”
Suddenly I’m flung into my memory. Into my past. Into my deepest regret.