Naya
Chapter Three
Year 2346
Naya
When Naya’s people first came to this island they quickly learned of the frequent and violent storms that raged through the sea and their land. To protect themselves, they set up stone huts that led to underground shelters.
After the Chief had been warned of the storm Naya had seen, the villagers quickly disposed of their small beach huts, collected needed supplies and valuables, and evacuated behind the giant wall of the Circle within the hour. When the storm eventually hit their beach, everyone was safe behind the stone in their own little huts.
Naya, Papan, her father, and Li’em - her father’s jaguar - settled into their own shelter. The jaguars paced anxiously as the sharp howling of the wind passed over them. They could hear the rumbling of the thunder and the harsh pitter-patter of the rain.
Naya looked at Papan over the stew she stirred in a pot. The fire was warm and she could smell the delicious stew. She couldn’t wait to have the warmth in her belly. Despite the fur layers she had dressed herself in, she could not shake the cold that radiated from the earth.
“Rema, Papan,” Naya murmured gently.
The cat lied down next to her, purring anxiously. Naya petted her large head, hoping to comfort her. The jaguars never liked the storms, they made them nervous.
“The gods sound angry,” Naya mused after a loud boom of thunder. “I hope Herue is alright.”
Her father looked back at her from where he stood near the entrance of the shelter. “Herue will be fine. The storm is already beginning to pass.” He stepped away and sat beside his daughter near the fire. His long fur cloak draped behind him. “What it was that upset the gods is gone now.”
Naya was not so sure about that, but she did not speak of her opinion.
The Chief looked at his daughter fondly. How beautiful she was; just like her mother. At the thought, his heart sunk into his belly.
“You look like your mother,” he said to his daughter, who looked up at him in surprise. He tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “So beautiful, so wise beyond your years.”
“Why do you bring up mother now?”
The Chief shrugged. “An observance, my daughter.”
Naya quickly looked back at her stew. It was beginning to bubble. Soon, it would be in her belly. Maybe it could remove this ache she suddenly felt low in her body.
“Are you alright, Naya? I sense trouble in you.”
First Herue, now her father.
She looked at him, her gaze softening upon the man she respected most. He was strong, unlike herself. He was the greatest leader her people had ever known, wise and kind, unlike some they had experienced.
“I fear for my friend,” she whispers, handing him a wooden bowl full of stew. Steam rose and circled in front of his face as he took it.
“Herue will be alright. He is Chief now.”
She nodded, sipping her own stew. It burned down her throat and settled in her belly. It was warm as she wanted, but it wasn’t what she needed. She ached inside. How she missed her mother. Her mother would know what to do about these dreams that haunted her.
Naya looked over at her father quietly eating his stew. His black hair hung in a thick braid down his back, green feathers and beads decorating it. He wore a white loincloth and a fur cloak to keep him warm. Thick weaved grass bracelets adorned his wrists and ankles. His age was beginning to show in his tanned face, wrinkles lined his eyes and the corners of his mouth. However, Naya did not doubt his strength; muscles rippled through him, scars from early years marred his body. Even without a weapon, her father could defeat any of his own warriors. He was a force not to be reckoned with. And yet, even with all his skill and strength, the old chief was peaceful. There had not been a war between tribes since he arose to the title. Peace for over 300 years was definitely something to gloat about, but he was also humble.
Naya smiled. Mother would be so proud.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The minute the storm passed, Naya left the shelter in search of Herue despite her father’s request to stay home. The sun set low on the horizon, creating pink and purple streaks in a now cloudless sky. The air was chilly and a strong wind still blew.
Naya wore her thick deer skin leggings and dress with a heavy fur cloak to keep warm. Her bow and arrows were strapped to her back. She slid onto Papan and led her through the stone huts and towards the Forest. Perhaps Herue had not left yet. She could only hope.
The storm had raged havoc on the land. Tree limbs littered the ground and massive puddles blocked paths. Minimal and survival damage, she knew.
At the top of the valley, Naya could see the storm clouds in the distance, now past the island. She urged Papan faster across the open fields of wet green grass. The ground was soft and mud splashed at them both, but they did not care. Hunkered low on Papan, Naya searched for clues of Herue and his Knights. There were none until they reached the edge of the Forest.
I sense Herue’s Jaguar, Papan lifted her head as she spoke, eyes searching for what she felt. They are fine. Not far from here.
Naya felt relief flood through her as they made their way into the thick vines of the Forest. The mud was thick here, Pan’s paws sunk through. Leaves floated in the puddles and the critters were silent as they hid. The trees moaned in the whipping wind, leaves falling rapidly.
I can feel their cries, Pan murmured sadly. The Forest is in pain.
“The gods were very angry,” Naya agreed, her heart low in her belly. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as the trees continued to crack and bend in the wind. She feared the gods’ wrath.
“Naya!”
Her head snapped up as Herue burst through a line of bushes atop his jet black Jaguar O’dius, who was just as large as Herue.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Naya breathed.
“Doubt me, little one?” Herue teased as three of his most trusted knights came through the bushes, lining up behind him.
“Never,” Naya smiled. “Come, Father is waiting.”
Herue nodded, coming up beside her as they began the journey back to the Circle. It was silent except for the wind until they reached the open fields of grass that separated the Forest from Naya’s home.
Herue looked over at Naya from the side of his leather hood, his green eyes bright, but wary. They slowed their pace to a walk as they came upon the hill that looked over the valley.
“This storm… it means something, Naya.”
“Are the gods angry with us, Herue?”
“Not us,” Herue gazed out at the vast sapphire sea, large waves crashing against the beach.
“Then who?”
“We will soon know.”
Something is coming. Papan was looking out at the sea. Naya followed her gaze. At the brink of the horizon were the three black silhouettes of the moving mountains that haunted her dreams. Fear struck her still, but even as her blood ran cold, her heart burned with curiosity.
Something was coming indeed.
Naya
When Naya’s people first came to this island they quickly learned of the frequent and violent storms that raged through the sea and their land. To protect themselves, they set up stone huts that led to underground shelters.
After the Chief had been warned of the storm Naya had seen, the villagers quickly disposed of their small beach huts, collected needed supplies and valuables, and evacuated behind the giant wall of the Circle within the hour. When the storm eventually hit their beach, everyone was safe behind the stone in their own little huts.
Naya, Papan, her father, and Li’em - her father’s jaguar - settled into their own shelter. The jaguars paced anxiously as the sharp howling of the wind passed over them. They could hear the rumbling of the thunder and the harsh pitter-patter of the rain.
Naya looked at Papan over the stew she stirred in a pot. The fire was warm and she could smell the delicious stew. She couldn’t wait to have the warmth in her belly. Despite the fur layers she had dressed herself in, she could not shake the cold that radiated from the earth.
“Rema, Papan,” Naya murmured gently.
The cat lied down next to her, purring anxiously. Naya petted her large head, hoping to comfort her. The jaguars never liked the storms, they made them nervous.
“The gods sound angry,” Naya mused after a loud boom of thunder. “I hope Herue is alright.”
Her father looked back at her from where he stood near the entrance of the shelter. “Herue will be fine. The storm is already beginning to pass.” He stepped away and sat beside his daughter near the fire. His long fur cloak draped behind him. “What it was that upset the gods is gone now.”
Naya was not so sure about that, but she did not speak of her opinion.
The Chief looked at his daughter fondly. How beautiful she was; just like her mother. At the thought, his heart sunk into his belly.
“You look like your mother,” he said to his daughter, who looked up at him in surprise. He tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “So beautiful, so wise beyond your years.”
“Why do you bring up mother now?”
The Chief shrugged. “An observance, my daughter.”
Naya quickly looked back at her stew. It was beginning to bubble. Soon, it would be in her belly. Maybe it could remove this ache she suddenly felt low in her body.
“Are you alright, Naya? I sense trouble in you.”
First Herue, now her father.
She looked at him, her gaze softening upon the man she respected most. He was strong, unlike herself. He was the greatest leader her people had ever known, wise and kind, unlike some they had experienced.
“I fear for my friend,” she whispers, handing him a wooden bowl full of stew. Steam rose and circled in front of his face as he took it.
“Herue will be alright. He is Chief now.”
She nodded, sipping her own stew. It burned down her throat and settled in her belly. It was warm as she wanted, but it wasn’t what she needed. She ached inside. How she missed her mother. Her mother would know what to do about these dreams that haunted her.
Naya looked over at her father quietly eating his stew. His black hair hung in a thick braid down his back, green feathers and beads decorating it. He wore a white loincloth and a fur cloak to keep him warm. Thick weaved grass bracelets adorned his wrists and ankles. His age was beginning to show in his tanned face, wrinkles lined his eyes and the corners of his mouth. However, Naya did not doubt his strength; muscles rippled through him, scars from early years marred his body. Even without a weapon, her father could defeat any of his own warriors. He was a force not to be reckoned with. And yet, even with all his skill and strength, the old chief was peaceful. There had not been a war between tribes since he arose to the title. Peace for over 300 years was definitely something to gloat about, but he was also humble.
Naya smiled. Mother would be so proud.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The minute the storm passed, Naya left the shelter in search of Herue despite her father’s request to stay home. The sun set low on the horizon, creating pink and purple streaks in a now cloudless sky. The air was chilly and a strong wind still blew.
Naya wore her thick deer skin leggings and dress with a heavy fur cloak to keep warm. Her bow and arrows were strapped to her back. She slid onto Papan and led her through the stone huts and towards the Forest. Perhaps Herue had not left yet. She could only hope.
The storm had raged havoc on the land. Tree limbs littered the ground and massive puddles blocked paths. Minimal and survival damage, she knew.
At the top of the valley, Naya could see the storm clouds in the distance, now past the island. She urged Papan faster across the open fields of wet green grass. The ground was soft and mud splashed at them both, but they did not care. Hunkered low on Papan, Naya searched for clues of Herue and his Knights. There were none until they reached the edge of the Forest.
I sense Herue’s Jaguar, Papan lifted her head as she spoke, eyes searching for what she felt. They are fine. Not far from here.
Naya felt relief flood through her as they made their way into the thick vines of the Forest. The mud was thick here, Pan’s paws sunk through. Leaves floated in the puddles and the critters were silent as they hid. The trees moaned in the whipping wind, leaves falling rapidly.
I can feel their cries, Pan murmured sadly. The Forest is in pain.
“The gods were very angry,” Naya agreed, her heart low in her belly. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as the trees continued to crack and bend in the wind. She feared the gods’ wrath.
“Naya!”
Her head snapped up as Herue burst through a line of bushes atop his jet black Jaguar O’dius, who was just as large as Herue.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Naya breathed.
“Doubt me, little one?” Herue teased as three of his most trusted knights came through the bushes, lining up behind him.
“Never,” Naya smiled. “Come, Father is waiting.”
Herue nodded, coming up beside her as they began the journey back to the Circle. It was silent except for the wind until they reached the open fields of grass that separated the Forest from Naya’s home.
Herue looked over at Naya from the side of his leather hood, his green eyes bright, but wary. They slowed their pace to a walk as they came upon the hill that looked over the valley.
“This storm… it means something, Naya.”
“Are the gods angry with us, Herue?”
“Not us,” Herue gazed out at the vast sapphire sea, large waves crashing against the beach.
“Then who?”
“We will soon know.”
Something is coming. Papan was looking out at the sea. Naya followed her gaze. At the brink of the horizon were the three black silhouettes of the moving mountains that haunted her dreams. Fear struck her still, but even as her blood ran cold, her heart burned with curiosity.
Something was coming indeed.