[Story] A Story a Week 17

[[ Prompt: A story set in a country you’ve never been to.

Wow, this prompt was soooo vague, because basically everything I write is set in a place I’ve never been to. I decided to continue Tamazi’s story, as she’ll soon be stepping into a place she’s never been as well. ]]

Tamazi could still feel the lightning crackling through her whiskers as she and Harvian fled the swamp. Tamazi the Drakeslayer! She could only imagine the expression on the faces of her clan if they ever heard about that. But how would they? They were so far away from them now, and they wouldn’t allow her back even if she did return. And the only one who’d seen it was the little creature beside her, marching grimly through the black mud beside her. She doubted very much that they would listen to him. Perhaps if he did that lightning trick first. Still, Tamazi felt a thrill of excitement that was difficult to forget.

They found a place to rest near a small stream, wading in to wash away the clinging black mud. Tamazi’s reached over her knees, but poor Harvian was covered nearly to his neck. His fancy cloth looked ruined too. Tamazi watched as he shrugged out of it and washed them in the stream, too. He looked even smaller and more vulnerable without it, just a tiny scrap of a thing. He hung it across a branch to dry, and he made a fire so they could get warm in the meantime. He took the map out from his pack and unrolled it.

“We should be here,” he said, pointing just beside a dark spot on the map. That must be the swamp. Tamazi looked at the markings, but they didn’t mean anything to her. She’d never been this far south, and wasn’t sure what else might lay ahead of them. There was one thing she could decipher — the temple. It was drawn larger than anything else, and had a circle drawn above it that looked like the Eye. But if Harvian had a map, why did he need her to take him there? If he could make lightning, he seemed perfectly capable of protecting himself against clans or drakes or anything else.

Harvian put a string into the stream with a bug on it, and caught some fish to eat. Tamazi had never eaten fish before, but she found them very pleasing, their flesh was light and delicious, yet just as filling as meat. That was something else she could show to the clan — if she ever went back, that is. She could not think of any places where fish might live, but she could find one and return with some, their bodies gleaming silver in the sunlight. She had not really considered what might happen once Harvian reached the temple.

Unmarked, any proper clan would see her as an outsider, and turn her away. There were surely groups of rogues, other unmarked hunters who banded together for the sake of survival. She remembered sometimes hearing stories about them from the males. But he made them sound wicked and terrible, oathbreakers and murderers and worse. Tamazi wasn’t any of those things, at least not on purpose. She looked at the map again. Maybe clans did things differently in the south. Maybe one of them would invite her to stay; after Harvian told them of her amazing feats. Maybe they’d even make her their chief huntress. Wouldn’t that be something!

 

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