Bittersweet Tragedy

1

Chapter one:

Eve

I dared to sneak a glance around the thick trunk of an oak tree, my ears twitching as they strained to listen for the snap of a twig or the crunch of leaves. Above me the sky opened and cold rain fell down onto my skin, making the air crisp and moist and I held back my shiver as one of the fat droplets slid down my bare back. A few yards ahead of me, grazing on a blue coloured sedge, was a young stag. He was big, easily over six feet tall, with warm brown fur and antlers the length of my arm situated either side of his head. I silently unsheathed my bow from around my shoulders - A stunning piece of weaponry that had been passed down my family from generation to generation. Its curved upper and lower limb was crafted from the bone of a Thylacine hound, a fox-faced creature that prowled the forest around my village and was etched with various symbols that were supposed to bring luck to the hunter wielding the weapon. I eyed the stag once more, my stomach doing somersaults as I knocked the shaft of an arrow into the bow and pulled back the string, inhaling a deep breath to steady myself as I aimed around the tree for the exposed throat of the creature. I blocked out the noises of the forest, the rustling of the leaves above me, the call of a bird and even the sloshing sound of rain falling into a puddle and pulled the string tighter, my arm screaming at the restraint, and fired.

Only my arrow hadn't penetrated the thick skin around the stag's throat, but rather it had been knocked out of the air by an unusually large mountain lion that had pounced from the thicket moments before. My prey thrashed in its maw, blood splattering over the flora surrounding the two mammals and startled, I ducked back behind the tree, cursing profoundly in my head. Not only was I now within the short throwing distance of the fiercest predator on my Isle, but I had also just lost the meal I had been tracking for the better part of the entire morning. I kept my irritation leashed as there wasn't any point fretting over something entirely out of my control. Besides I had much bigger things to worry about, such as the lion gorging itself on its newfound meal behind me. I threw my bow back around my shoulders and rolled them as they had gotten stiff with cold and quietly prayed to the Great Goddess that the beast was too distracted by its bloodlust to notice me slipping away. On silent feet I begin to ever so slowly creep forwards over the uneven ground of the forest, my tail swishing to help keep my balance, as I braved a peek at the Lion - just once, to make sure I had not caught its attention and it wasn't soundlessly prowling towards me. The beast was mighty and had fangs longer than my finger protruding out from its gums, so large and vicious that even when it had closed its mouth, they were still on show. The lion's legs were thick with muscle, its long tail was as slick as a whip and its fur was a ruddy orange, dotted with dark blue-black spots. But it was not feasting as I thought it would've been but rather it was sniffing the air, glancing around the threshold for something.

For me.

I realised with a start, dread curdling in the pit of my stomach. But it was too late; my moment of curiosity had distracted me and I had missed the twig that prodded up from the ground next to my foot. The sound of wood snapping echoed through the trees and with astonishing amount of speed the mountain lion's head whipped around to where I was trying to softly make my escape. The curses I called myself were filthy as it began to sink to the floor and prowl towards me, hackles already raised. I palmed the knife I had strapped in the halter that hung around my neck. It had been carved from a chunk of crystal I had found in a riverbed and it had two sides, one was smooth and curved to help break things open, the other was jagged and sharp and could inflict plenty of damage. I wasn't as skilled at close combat as I was at long distance attacks with my bow. But if the beast was about to pounce, I knew I wouldn't be quick enough to gain plenty of distance to use my favoured weapon. It would have to be the knife.

I raised myself on surprisingly steady legs; a weak attempt at making myself seem bigger to scare the predator off and said with as much confidence as I could muster:

"If you're going to pounce, you might as well hurry up. I have a long list of things to do today."

The lion roared at me, the sound seeming to make the earth shudder beneath my feet and I hissed back unsheathing my knife, holding it in front of my heart that thundered inside of my chest. As I inhaled through my nose the smell of wet earth and the metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils; and as I studied the beast, unwilling to break my stare, its tawny eyes found mine. I could see myself in the lion's reflection, the warped version of my body, the tail that sliced through the air behind me and the long round-tipped ears that were flat against my head. The Great Goddess had moulded my body after the animal standing before me and unlike my Kin that had hooves and horns that twisted up from their heads, I was honed with fluidity and grace. My own ferociousness earned me the title of Venator - which meant blessed hunter. If anyone could fight a lion and live to tell the tale it would be me. With this newfound certainty I offered a prayer up to the Goddess, the words seeming to be inaudible as the rain poured harder and when the mountain lion pounced finally, I was ready.

Like an arrow that had been fired, I surged forward and flung myself onto my knees, skidding through the slick earth and under the Beast. I slashed a deep cut across the inside of its leg and before it could register what had occurred I was back on my feet, panting with adrenaline. The lions deafening roar of anger filled the air and quicker than I could muster it turned and swiped with claws as long as my thumb. I barely sidestepped its advances and thrusted my dagger forwards, aiming left and right. Its massive paws came at me with such severity I was taken aback and just as I had narrowly avoided one attack another was on me in an instant. I held in a cry as its talons caught my arm, ignoring the ruby coloured blood that dribbled down my arm and rolled, scarcely missing the assault that would've left my guts hanging out from my body. But before I could regain my footing the Lion launched itself upon me and I was pinned, the wood of my bow digging painfully into my back. My panic surged and I willed it to calm as I used two hands to stop the teeth that were horrifyingly nearing my exposed throat. I snarled up at the beast as its saliva dripped down onto my face and the repulsive stench of rotten flesh seeped its way from the lion's mouth into my own. I gagged, before using the remaining strength I had left to hold its head back with one hand while my other curled into a fist and with as much force as I could gather collided with the side of its jaw. Teeth and blood flew and the lion reared back, giving me a split second to scramble up from the slippery earth and flee. My knife had been thrown from my hand and I was now defenceless, so I ran, hurling over fallen tree branches and roots, through thickets of bushes and shrubbery. I didn't dare make the same mistake as I had last time and refused to look behind as I bolted through the forest, unstrapping my bow as I moved. I knocked an arrow, begging whatever forces were watching me at that precise moment and continued forward, the sound of paws slapping the wet earth close behind me. Before I skidded to a stop and quickly turned with efficiency that had been drilled into me at a young age. The mountain lion could do absolutely nothing as my arrow flew through the air and embedded itself in the spot between its eyes. I fired another and it found its mark next to the one already there and when I knocked another the beast collapsed to the floor, bucking, thrashing and writhing as death finally swept in to claim its life.

I stood dumbfounded for a moment, my legs as shaky as a newborn fawns, before my fear finally caught up to me and I vomited profoundly onto the floor. Once my heaving had subsided, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and cursed loudly. I trudged over to the corpse and prodded it with the end of my bow, just to be sure, and retrieved my knife that had landed on a patch of moss. When I returned I sat on my knees and placed a palm on the lion's side, the fur beneath my fingers surprisingly soft as I whispered a Prayer:

"Great creature, you have not died in vain, you will live on through the people. I thank you for your sacrifice and release your spirit to the arms of the Great Goddess, may she guide you to the afterworld."

Sunlight began to filter through the canopy of the trees, warming the air around us, and I raised my knife, angling it downward before plunging it into the heart of the mountain lion.

Chapter 2:

Dragging a dead stag wrapped in the pelt of a mountain lion back to my village proved harder than I had anticipated and I was gasping for breath by the time I had returned, every inch of my body seeming to tremble with fatigue. The downpour had finally ceased, but night had well and truly begun to wash over the sky, the bioluminescent algae that coated every inch of the forest glowing blue and green in the darkness. The arm that had been shredded in my fight was left in ribbons, and while the gashes had stopped bleeding, the pain caused dark spots to form in the corners of my vision and a nasty headache had begun to bloom on my brow. In the clearing ahead of me, standing proudly and starkly against the wildness of the woods was my village. The wooden huts were situated in a circle and in its centre was a large bonfire that we lit for festivals or important ceremonies such as the one that happened to fall on that very same day. From where I stood, or rather swayed I could already hear the drums made from animal skin being beaten with sticks, bone rattlers filled with dried seeds were shaken and flutes crafted from tree branches pierced through the air. If I pushed past my blurring vision, I could see figures dancing, their bodies swaying and writhing alongside the flame that licked its way up into the sky. I stumbled forward, tugging on the rope that I had tied around the stag's leg and made my way to the rows of houses, muttering my hellos to the villagers I passed, their faces merging into one. They might have asked me whether I needed help, or if I was alright because judging from how I felt, I couldn't have looked much better, but I marched onwards with only one specific goal in mind and not one person could stop me at that moment.