Chapter 1: A Vision Realised
38,000 years BCE
The sound of birdsong pulled Juaan from his sleep. A soft breeze blew across his face, bringing with it the scent of the approaching morning. He kept his eyes closed, willing his mind to sink back into oblivion. The slumbering presence of the girl lying beside him, pressed against his latent senses. Hers was a presence that had always been a balm to his soul, a power it had still somehow possessed even when he had not remembered who she was.
Now, even that one beacon of light in all his wretched life had become a torture. A torment. Her presence a stark reminder of the evil he had become.
Juaan could not see the lifting of darkness behind the shelter of his eyelids, but the sound of Nyriaana’s breathing altered. She was waking as she always did with the rise of Utu, of Ninmah, whichever name the burning ball of fire in the sky chose to go by.
Juaan hunched his shoulders, ignoring the pain the motion caused. The wounds Eldrax had dealt during his failed Challenge were healed thanks to the skills of the woman who had saved his life, but the pain of them continued to twist his scarred innards.
Nyri groaned. From the sound of shifting pebbles, Juaan surmised she had pushed herself into a sitting position. He could feel the burn of her eyes upon his back. There was no point in pretending. She would sense that he wasn’t asleep, but Juaan could not bring himself to turn and look her in the face.
Her sigh of frustration echoed through the cave, but she did not attempt to call for his attention and Juaan was grateful for that small mercy.
More scraping sounded, then came the soft pad of her feet moving away from him. It took Juaan a moment to realise she was heading towards the cave’s mouth and the naked world beyond. His heart skipped a beat.
“Where are you going?” he asked without turning, his voice rough from disuse. There was no need for her to venture out. They still had the rations Halima had given them upon their escape from camp. An underground stream breaching the surface at the rear of the cave provided them with all the water they needed.
“To find forage,” she said, her voice a mere intonation.
“What forage?”
“I don’t know, a root, a mouldy nut. Anything! I cannot bear one more bite of dried flesh.”
“Nyriaana,” Juaan reproved, and flinched as he heard a bite of his former self in his tone, of Khalvir.
“It’s been days, Juaan. I need… clean air.”
To get away from you. Juaan’s mind supplied her true meaning between the spoken words.
“I won’t go far, and I will know if anyone approaches.”
Juaan could almost picture her finger tapping her forehead as she reassured him, and before he could raise another protest, the crunch of thawing snow signalled her exit from the cave.
Silence.
The torment of Juaan’s thoughts grew louder, as if finding it necessary to fill the void. Juaan tightened his fist around the symbolic spearhead resting in his palm. Carved with the image of a wolf, it was one of the many trinkets he had kept in the now destroyed leaf-leather pouch gifted to him by his mother. Keep it with you and remember. Remember the people who have loved you and sacrificed themselves for you.
It was the promise his mother had exacted from him over this very object. Juaan screwed his eyes shut and squeezed his fingers around the carved spearhead until the edges cut into his skin. Fresh blood spilled forth to mingle with the crusted remains of his own dead father’s. He had betrayed his mother. He had betrayed them all.
Rebaa’s dying face, glowing with misplaced trust and boundless love, swam in the void behind his closed lids. Her sacrifice had been in vain. She had been wrong. I’m sorry, mother, Juaan thought to the vision. You should have lived. You should have let me die…
Tears welled and Juaan could no longer hold them back as he clutched the tattered remains of the leaf leather pouch to his chest with his free hand. It was a long time before he regained enough control to force the tears away and release his hold on the spearhead.
The silence inside the cave reigned, unrelenting.
Nyri. Juaan glanced up, realising with a kick to his gut that Utu was now above the horizon and Nyriaana had not returned. Fear for her thrilled through his limbs, driving back the sucking grip of despair and self-loathing. “Nyri?” he called as loud as he dared. She had said she was not going far. If she was right outside the cave, she would have heard his call.
Had she finally tired of looking upon the face of the man who had destroyed her life and left? Juaan would not blame her if she had. He was out of danger now, and she no longer needed to care for him. Her obligation was at an end.
Though the thought of separation pained Juaan above all else, he should let her go. And he would let her go, but first he needed to ensure she was safe. Much as he respected her skills with the creatures of KI, she still did not fully understand the dangers of this savage world beyond her forests. If another human should come upon her…
Juaan staggered to his feet, wincing as his mangled tissues tugged. “Nyri.” His heart thudded harder when silence remained his only answer. Frustrated with the continued weakness that pulled at his steps, Juaan limped from the cave. “Nyriaana!”
The wind whipped at his hair as he emerged onto the open landscape. They had followed the river south, away from the Mountains of the Nine Gods, away from Hunting Bear and Eagle territory, putting as much distance between them and Eldrax’s hunters as they could manage. Juaan’s injuries had slowed them down, but Nyri had refused to leave him, no matter how much he had begged, or tried to push her away in the first grip of madness that had overcome him as his old identity closed over his soul.
The Mountains of the Nine Gods dominated the skyline far to the north, looming over the foothills and the Southern Plains. Winter’s icy grip continued to clutch greedily at the vast lands that should by now be flushed with new life.
At least the lingering snow cover was a friend to Juaan now. Not that bare rock would have stopped him tracking her, but it eased his task. He needed to teach her the art of covering her trail.
Nyri’s bold footprints led away from their refuge, moving in a direction leading back towards the foothills and the Mountains. Why would she go that way? Juaan shifted into a jog, ignoring his body’s protest. They had evaded Eldrax’s hunters for now, but that did not mean the dread Chief would have given up on them.
Juaan knew Eldrax. He would not break hunt until he had run down his quarry. Accepting defeat was not in his nature. Neither was forgiveness. Eldrax would pursue them to the ends of the earth. He would not be satisfied until he had Juaan’s hide strung over his dwelling as a warning to all, while he made Nyri his own within.
“Nyriaana!” Juaan shouted, throwing caution to the wind as his fear for her consumed all else. If Eldrax had come upon them at last—
There! A lone figure was sitting huddled on an outcropping of rock facing away towards the distant Mountains. The sight of her slight frame swallowed by the vast emptiness of the Plains squeezed Juaan’s heart afresh. She did not belong here. She belonged in the arms of the trees, kissed by the gentle dappled light filtering down through the protective canopy of home.
A home he had deprived her of.
