Tales of The Primordial Dawn

My next question seemed to resonate with Aiasha, her brows knitting together as she relayed it to Vilthur. His response was immediate, a scoff ringing through the air as he spoke to Aiasha. His demeanor suggested that the very idea was laughable.

"He says it is not for them to decide," Aiasha told me, her gaze shifting between Vilthur and me. "And he sees no benefit in staying in one place for long."

"But don't they want more?" I asked, unable to hide my confusion. "They can farm, build, create. Like this," I added, pulling out my clay sundial from my pocket.

Aiasha's dark eyes widened at the unfamiliar object. "Hwæt is þæt?"¹What is this? she asked, her gaze flickering between the sundial and me.

"This," I explained, "is a way to tell time, based on the position of the sun." I could see her struggling to translate my words, and I waited patiently as she conversed with Vilthur in their complex language.

To my surprise, Vilthur leaned forward, a spark of interest in his eyes. His demand was clear even without Aiasha's translation. I handed the sundial to him, my heart pounding in my chest. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it with a curiosity that seemed at odds with his hardened exterior.

The young girl next to Vilthur, who'd been silent up to this point, extended a hand. The sundial was passed to her, and she examined it with the same interest as Vilthur.

"Where did you find this?" Vilthur asked, his gaze meeting mine through Aiasha's translation.

"I didn't find it," I replied, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. "I made it."

Aiasha conveyed my words to Vilthur, her voice shaking slightly. The shock on Vilthur's face matched that of the young woman beside him.

“How?” he demanded, a single word filled with a dozen questions. Aiasha wasted no time in translating, her voice barely above a whisper.

“With clay,” I explained, watching as Aiasha relayed my answer, “One of our resources.”

A pause filled the tent as Vilthur processed this, then another question. “What else have you created?”

“There are many ideas,” I told him, Aiasha dutifully translating my words. “The sundial is just one of them.”

For a long moment, Vilthur and the young woman conversed quietly amongst themselves. I couldn’t decipher their words, but their expressions spoke volumes. Hope bloomed within me. Were they considering a trade?

Finally, Vilthur spoke, his eyes locked onto mine. Aiasha, after a quick translation, relayed his words. "The sundial is a fine tool, but it is not worth trading for."

My heart dropped. "Why not?" I found myself asking, my voice choked with disappointment.

Vilthur erupted into laughter, a chilling sound that echoed through the quiet tent. His reply came through Aiasha, her voice wavering. "He says if he wanted your sundial, he could just take it from you."

My stomach twisted, the harsh reality of our situation striking me like a punch.

Vilthur broke the heavy silence, his voice low. Aiasha hurriedly translated. "He says you were foolish to come here after being shown mercy twice."

I frowned. "Twice?" I questioned.

Aiasha translated my question, prompting Vilthur to speak again. "You were spared the first time you came here," Aiasha relayed. "Your elders were also allowed to leave unharmed during their visit. And now, this is your third encounter. Why do you think you'll be spared again?"

Her words stung. I glanced over at Vilthur, his black eyes as hard and cold as stone, then to the young woman, her curious gaze never leaving me. "I didn't come here thinking I would be spared," I admitted. "I came here to find answers. A tribe that doesn't see the benefit of settling down and trading won't last long, especially with the number of people you have."

Aiasha's translation was met with silence. Vilthur simply stared at me, his face unreadable. Then, he spoke. Aiasha turned to me, her voice almost a whisper. "Why do you believe we won't last long?"

"The lack of a water source is obvious," I began, my gaze sweeping over the room. "Your women are not strong, their faces carry marks of sadness. And with the size of your tribe, you will deplete the nearby food resources in no time."

"It's unsustainable," I insisted, watching the pair closely. "Keeping or increasing your population while maintaining this way of life will lead to your tribe's downfall."

Aiasha hesitated for a moment before she translated my words to Vilthur. The man's reaction was nonchalant, almost as if he was expecting such a statement. Then he responded, the words sounding more like a question than an accusation.

"Why do you think we haven't settled down already?" Aiasha echoed his query.

The question took me by surprise. I looked at the barren landscape, the makeshift huts, the lack of any sign of agriculture or permanent residence. "You don't look settled," I blurted out, more to myself than to them.

A small, amused smile appeared on Vilthur's face at my response. He said something, and Aiasha translated again, "We could be a scouting party, sent to explore and gather resources before returning to our main settlement. Perhaps we have a large, thriving community there. Have you considered that?"

I blinked, taken aback by the plausible explanation. It made sense, yet my gut told me something was off. I turned to Aiasha, asking a question that had been nagging at the back of my mind. "How were you and the other Wulani women captured?"

A pained expression crossed Aiasha's face at my question. She looked down, her voice barely above a whisper as she recounted the horrific event. "We came across a hunting party. We tried to steal their kill, but they outnumbered and overpowered us. All our men died. The women...we were taken captive."

"Did this happen here?" I asked, my heart pounding with the anxiety of the unknown.

Aiasha shook her head, "No. I've been with them for some time. We're always moving."

Before I could ask anything else, Vilthur's loud voice echoed in the tent. Aiasha quickly interpreted, "He wants you to stop speaking directly to me."

"Well, if you were settled, you wouldn't need to roam, hunting new game and searching for fresh places to forage," I responded, my voice steady despite the intense gaze of the man across from me.

Aiasha translated my words. I continued, "And how come you don't have a water source? That's basic survival."

Vilthur's smile sent a chill down my spine. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the young girl next to him raised her hand. Surprisingly, he fell silent, giving her a nod.

To my surprise, the girl spoke in our language. "You are very perceptive for someone your age," she said, her voice soft yet firm.

My eyes widened in surprise. "You speak Wulian?" I stammered out. The fact that she had stayed quiet all this time was puzzling. "Who are you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

The girl's lips curved into a small smile. "You are brighter than the two elders who came before you," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she was suppressing a laugh.

"Who are you?" I asked again, my mind filled with questions.

"I am the Chieftess, Silma," she said, her voice ringing with authority.

A surprised gasp escaped my lips. I glanced at Vilthur, who I had presumed was the leader all this time.

Silma must have noticed the surprise on my face. "Vilthur is an elder of the Mayitan," she explained, "But he is not our leader."

"You're so young..." I whispered, finding it hard to believe.

"And so are you," she retorted, a faint smile on her face. "Why aren't you leading your people?"

I remembered Rasha's words - the elder who had voted against me becoming the next leader. "I am too young. The elders want me to enjoy my childhood," I confessed.

"In our tribe, there is no such thing," Silma declared, her voice echoing in the tent. "The most suitable person leads. Everyone else follows."

"Why didn't you speak until now?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why would I?"

I had no response to that.

"Vilthur played his part well," she added. "You had no reason to suspect anything else."

"But why speak now?" I asked, still baffled.

"Because you have shown more insight than the others," she replied. "It is only right to extend you the courtesy of a proper introduction."

"Why won't you trade?" I asked, a bit of desperation creeping into my voice.

Silma seemed to study me for a moment before she replied, "We are open to trade, your people have interesting technology that we could find useful."

"Then why did you decline the trade?" I asked, my mind racing as I tried to understand her reasoning.

"Because," she started, a look of seriousness appearing on her face. "What you propose is trading the lives of our captives for something so small. This trade would not benefit my tribe."

I frowned at her words, feeling a sense of despair creeping into my heart. "So, you'll only release them for our weapons?"

Silma nodded, "Yes, it would make our hunting easier. However, I am willing to consider another trade."

My heart skipped a beat. "What kind of trade are you thinking of?"

She smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "I will release the Wulani women if your tribe trades you, Tak."

The words hung in the air. Aiasha looked at me, her eyes wide with shock. Vilthur too looked surprised.

"Why me?" I managed to stammer out, not quite believing what I was hearing.

Silma pointed to the sundial I had shown them earlier. "You made this, and you have other ideas. You have knowledge that could be beneficial to us, more so than the Wulani women."

"My tribe will not trade me for them," I said quickly, "And I don't want that either."

Silma shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Then there is nothing else your tribe can offer us, besides weapons."

I took a deep breath, thinking about her words. "Are you satisfied with this life, with constantly moving, Silma?"

She looked at me, her expression unreadable. "It is all my tribe knows, and it has done us well."

I shook my head. "It may have served you well, but it has its flaws," I countered, "Why don't you want to settle down here?"

"Staying in one place is difficult with our numbers," Silma responded, her voice quiet in the cool evening air. "Our food would deplete quickly and the animals would learn to avoid us. How would we survive without food?"

I nodded, understanding her predicament. "It's possible though," I proposed, a plan beginning to form in my mind. "You could plant your resources, roam as you normally do and return to an area rich with food."

Silma chuckled, a surprising sound in the quiet camp. "This is why you should join us, Tak."

I shook my head, glancing at Aiasha before turning back to Silma. "Why did you kill the Wulani men?" I asked, a question that had been bothering me since I first heard the story.

Silma's smile faltered. "They killed my people," she said, her voice firm. "So I killed theirs. It's only fair."

I understood her perspective, as hard as it was to accept. The cycle of revenge and bloodshed was all too familiar. "Then why did you take the women captive?"

"To increase our population," she said simply.

"But you can't force people to do that," I argued.

Silma regarded me with a curious expression. "Why not?"

"It's wrong," I said, trying to convey my conviction.

"And why do you think that?" she asked, challenging my belief. "We fought, we won. Doesn't the victor decide the fate of the defeated?"

I was reminded then of the stark difference between our worldviews. Silma was a woman of the Neolithic age, where taking lives was part of survival. I sighed heavily.

"Do you know that the Wulani people are upset?" I asked. "They're planning to attack."

"I know," she said, her voice steady. "But they would be foolish to attack my tribe."

"Why is that?" I asked.

Silma smiled at me. "What did I just tell you, Tak?"

I furrowed my brow, going over our conversation in my head. "Even if you fight them back due to spilled blood," I said slowly, "your tribe won't survive."

"Maybe not us," she admitted. "But there are others watching."

Silma leaned in closer to me, her eyes serious. "Why did you tell Vilthur your tribe were beyond the range of the animals?" she asked.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I recalled the tale Brin and I had spun for Vilthur, about living on the other side of the Bison's range. I had assumed they'd see it as a bluff, but Silma's words suggested otherwise.

"We didn't want to reveal the location of our home so easily," I admitted, understanding flashing in her eyes.

"It was a wise move," she said, a touch of respect in her voice. "But we found out regardless."

My heart pounded in my chest at her revelation, my thoughts flashing to Maeve and Zulu, my younger siblings back at our village. The vulnerability we had just exposed filled me with dread. Seeing my reaction, Silma's lips curved into a knowing smile.

"You understand what I mean now, don't you?" she said, her words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. I nodded slowly, unable to form words.

"But I have an offer," Silma said, leaning forward in anticipation. Her words sparked my curiosity, pushing aside my momentary fear. "What is it?" I asked, meeting her gaze.

Silma paused, as if considering her next words carefully. "A way to avoid all this pointless fighting," she began. "A way to return the Wulani women to their people."

I sighed, weary of all the games and hidden agendas. "What do you have in mind?" I asked, my tone cautious.

Silma's eyes flickered between me and her people, then back to me. "You wish for us to settle down, to avoid war, right?" she asked, her words slow and deliberate. "Then offer yourself as a bridge to bring our two tribes closer together."

I stumbled over my words, barely able to process her suggestion. "You mean... we should be wed?" I asked, my voice heavy with disbelief.

Silma pondered this for a moment, repeating the word 'wed' a few times as if tasting a new dish for the first time. "We call it a joining," she explained, "blessed by our ancestors and elders. But if your people call it being wed, then so be it."

"Are you crazy?" I asked, my incredulity overriding any sense of decorum. Silma only tilted her head at me, a serene smile playing on her lips. "What's the matter, Tak? You get what you want and I get..."

I cut her off, my frustration mounting. "Get what? You haven't said what you want."

Silma's smile widened as she studied me, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. "The decision rests in your hands, Tak. Join our tribe, trade weapons, or bridge the gap between our people," she offered, laying out the stark choices before me. "You're free to go. I trust you'll make the right decision."

I felt a weight settle in my stomach at her words. "Why me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Silma's eyes held mine as she answered, her gaze steady.

"There are many reasons, as you've shown. Now, tell me, Tak," she paused, her gaze probing. "Is there anyone else who would have done the same as you?"