Memories
#2 of Traveller's Tales
This is my first story, so I would really appreciate feedback. There will be yiff, but not in the first couple of chapters. All characters are human unless otherwise specified.
Memories
The cold moon gazed lidless and uncaring upon the hunched figure. A figure that huddled before a tiny fire as dark trees, stationed around the lonely clearing, leered with hoary branches. The figure sniffed once, pulling flea-bitten furs closer to her body, while slanted brown eyes stared into the bold illumination, their look glazed and distant; haunted and aged beyond the years of their young owner.
The frozen wind bit into her grazed flesh as snow began to fall: fall from dark dungeons of cloud descending upon the baleful moon. A hiss and a crack, the snap and sizzle of snow upon her fire brought the girl out of her daze. She lifted her head to the sky and frowned slowly, her eyes sought out the comfort of the moon, and then stopped: the moon was gone now.
The girl looked with sad eyes at her hands, human hands blue from cold, always human hands now. Human hands, human hair, human skin: a cold human body. The girl sniffed again, from the cold she assured herself, she was not that weak. Not yet.
A numbed hand sought the memory that hung around her neck: a single tanned scale, no bigger than her little finger, tied by old leather cord. It was a scale whom merchant and scholar both would find worthless. Yet it was a memory, that in this cold clearing, to the girl was priceless. It was her past, a remembrance of something she would never again attain. It was gone now, like the moon.
* * *
The trials. Every year they took place. Every year, from her distant lair, the Dreki Tivar would descend. Out of their huts the Shaman would, with the rattle of bones, come and greet the mighty creature. There, as a living god, the Dreki Tivar would be worshipped. In her honour feasts would be made and Skalds would sing of her beauty. Dragon, foreigners named the goddess, 'Dragon' as if such a word could describe all the wonders of the Dreki Tivar.
It was not uncommon for the tribes of Pentican to have a Draconic patron. When civilisation turned against them, the Dragons departed, some across the sea and a few to Pentican where they were received and revered as gods. They became avatars of the strength and power embodied by the wild deities of Pentican and eventually they became seen as gods themselves.
When the time came, the Dreki Tivar would come before them all and declare three tasks. At the end of the tasks, she would then choose one warrior, that warrior would be taken by the goddess and changed by her divine will. He would become Dreki Vakar, a true servant of the goddess, a combination of both Dreki Tivar and tribesman.
The girl stood alone in the hut, her feet scrapping at the straw floor, brown eyes peering across at the other warriors who sought trial. She was nervous, but not afraid: fear was weakness. She knew the Dreki Tivar would never choose a weakling. She knew she would have to show her strength. She eyed the other warriors, daring any to challenge her, but none would - she was beneath them.
She was alone not because of her gender, women were as much warriors as men in Pentican, she was alone because she had no status. She was not the daughter of a line of warriors, nor was she Jarl-blood. She was just simply herself: an orphan with no family, no tribal status.
The girl had come of age, but without status she would never be chosen as wife, for a warrior might marry an orphan, but not if she was from another tribe and this girl was one such orphan. Without a husband she was of no use to the tribe, she would be sacrificed to Lupa, the ever hungering Wolf Spirit. To become Dreki Vakar and be bound to the Dreki Tivar, the Dragon, that was her freedom. Freedom from such a fate.
Every year the trials took place. Every year the goddess would name her tasks and choose a warrior. It was constant, unchanging, all knew the pattern and many hoped to one day be chosen. It was the misfortune of the girl to be chosen that year.