”It is death, the Devil’s Mount. What lives there no man can hunt. What grows there no woman can pick. The water too foul to drink. When the light goes to sleep, give prayer to Hayim. Might he give comfort in the dark. For it is death, the Devil’s Mount…”
-A Shaman’s Words
Calli hummed as she sowed, a tune passed down from mother to daughter. She worked carefully, rhythmically, as she sowed deerskin into moccasins. A process also taught by her mother, and to her sisters. She sat outside her family’s small lodge, taking in the fresh air as her small village went about their days. Children ran about playing hunter and prey, elders sat about in groups smoking from their bone pipes, while most of the older girls and the women were busying themselves with work. Some men idled about with spears in hand, but most were out fishing and hunting and doing whatever men did. By the time the Light was setting, meaning nightfall fast approached, Calli was finished with her moccasins and it was time for dinner to begin preparation.
She wandered back inside, her mother teaching her younger sisters the art of beadmaking, with bone, rocks, and anything else shiny. Maya and her mother sat facing Calli, while Rowa and Seri faced away. Maya was the youngest of the trio, being born only five winters ago. Rowa came next having been born nine winters ago, and Seri was only a year younger then herself.
“Calli! Calli! Look, look!” Came Maya’s excited voice as she held up a small pink shell with a hole in it. Her sister’s large smile was infectious as she beamed with joy. “Isn’t it pretty, systir? Elder Dareeri says it came from Akhuz!”
Rowa and Seri began to laugh.
“If that came from Akhuz,” Seri began, “Then this pebble came from Voctao!” Which then prompted Seri and Rowa to laugh again. Maya was visibly upset at the accusation, the small girl breamed with anger and a shouting match commenced at the table, but her mothyr quickly put an end to it.
“Seri! Rowa! Enough. Apologize to your sister, now. Elder Dareeri is seldom wrong.”
As Calli walked over to examine the shell further, Seri and Rowa begrudgingly apologized to Maya. Calli then took the shell, holding it gently in her grasp. After a moment she exclaimed, “Akhuz! Yes, I think so! I bet Hayim himself wanted you to have this Maya.” As she handed the small shell back to Maya, the little girl’s face was again beaming with joy. Calli also noticed her mother smiling softly as she worked on her own shell.
Her mothyr was a kind-hearted soul, doing whatever it took to keep her children healthy and happy. Little lies such as this were just one of the things she did for Calli’s younger siblings, and who really knew, maybe the shell had come from Akhuz. Elder Dareeri had said strange things were out there.
“Calli,” Came her mother, “It’s time to start supper.”
“I know mothyr, I know.”
Her family feasted that night, her papa and brothyrs had hunted down a great elk, and because the animal was so large, they would have a head start for the colder season and plenty to spare for friends and other relatives. Her papa was particularly boastful that night around the fire, talking and talking as he always did. A lot of what he said was not true, but a great chorus of laughter told a different story. Her brothyrs, Notolak and Farur were quite quick to chime in and tell what really happened.
As their bellies were full, and the fire dimmed down- Elder Dareeri came by with news. She was an older woman, her hear was grey and she kept a walking staff carved with many symbols. Her words always carried weight, and everyone would grow quiet to listen.
“Borau, great luck I hear you had. A great elk, sent by Naswaru perhaps? You should thank the God of the Hunt, he works in strange ways.”
“We have Elder, we only took what we could carry, and gave back what we could not.” Came her father’s voice.
“Good Borau, good.” Dareeri said while taking a seat in between in brothers, “A runner came up from the south around midday, telling us grave news. The tremor that was felt a fortnight ago, came from the endless sand. Fire erupts from the sky of the great spire, he said, a bad omen.” Dareeri sighed, before continuing, “The Teradu Tribe faced great tragedy these last few days, a few of their own went Raving and… well, they may need help when the biting winds come.” At this, the group started breaking into hushed whispers and talk as Dareeri stared into the fire. Calli noticed she had avoided saying what really happened, probably not to frighten the young ones, but the adults would know. As she matured, she could see what was really going on in the world and wanted nothing more then the ignorance of youth. Her brothyr’s voices brought her back to the fire, they seemed to be in a heated discussion.
“The Raving will be the end of us all if we are not careful. We have our own worries here!” Said Notolak.
“Perhaps if they did not seek so much land this would not have happ-“ Started Farur but was interrupted by Borau.
“Enough of this talk, Farur, Notolak. We will help all those in need, it is what Hayim would want us to do.” Calli watched as they bowed their heads to his words, growing silent without protest. As it should be.
“Now,” said Borau in a more light-hearted voice, “Let us pass around the berry tart, I could use something sweet!”
As the twinkling lights shone brightly overhead, and the mirth of the fire settled to coals, Calli was left alone with her brothyrs. Elder Dareeri, her papa, mothyr, and systirs long ago retiring. The night air was cool upon her face, a fur blanket covered herself from the chill. She stared into the coals, while her brothers chatted quietly to themselves. She was cozy, and her eyes felt so heavy. She yawned, perhaps a quick nap was in order.
Then the screaming started.
Calli jolted awake at the blood curdling sounds, her brothyrs were already on their feet, with spears in hand. The screaming was coming deeper in the small village, and then came something else, something far more terrifying.
It sounded like a scream, only higher pitched and deafening. It belonged to no tribesman.
It instantly drove an arrow of fear into her heart, so profound and horrible she could only sit there and cover her ears. Hoping it would stop, no… Pleading it would stop! Such fear was far too crippling. Then it was over, and the world around her erupted into a frenzy as men shouted, women were yelling, and children were crying. Her papa ran out of the house with spear in hand, barking orders at his sons to get their mothyr and systirs and run.
Calli was crying uncontrollably when her papa reached her, giving her an embrace before pulling away to look at her.
“Calli! Calli, listen to me! Listen! Papa loves you. You are safe! Now go with your brothyrs! Keep your systirs safe! Go!” Calli could see on his face how much it pained him to say that, but her own voice faltered, and she said nothing as her Father ran into the village. She would never see him again.
It was Notolak that grabbed her hand, pulling her to follow. He said something but Calli failed to listen as a white demon appeared before her, appearing out of nowhere. Something erupted from it’s face, a sickening gurgle followed as her brother’s hand went limp. If she had turned to look, she would see Notolak had been punctured through the throat, but Calli could not remove her gaze from the demon before her.
A sudden spear hit the creature in the chest, startling Calli. Farur was screaming at her to run as he tackled the Demon into the coals. She dared not stay any longer and ran, as fast as she could with tears streaming down her face. Her Mothyr and Systirs had just left the Lodge, thank Hayim. She screamed at them to run, and grabbed Maya as she caught up to them, then buried her sister’s face into her right shoulder.
The girls ran, their swift feet carrying them into the dark forest as the screams began to fade. The only sound was their breathing, and Maya’s shrill cries.
When they at last stopped for breath in a small clearing, their bodies were exhausted. Calli’s heart was pounding in her head and her mothyr looked like she was going to faint. All of them then embraced one another, regardless of how tired they were, it was at times like this that comfort was needed.
“W-what w-was t-that?” asked a shaking Seri.
“I do not know little one, but we need to go.” Came her Mothyrs voice.
“B-But what about Papa, Farur, and N-Notolak.” Rowa cried softly. Whether or not she had seen what befell their brothers, Calli did not know, but she hoped Rowa would be spared the burden of having to watch them die.
“There is no time, my cub. We need to g-“ But her voice was caught off as a demon entered the clearing in front of them. It’s pale body the only defining trait in the darkness, as it watched them. Calli’s eyes went wide and she shouted to run, but upon turning around, she saw their exit was cut off by three more.
The girls screamed again, frantically holding onto her, while her mothyr fell to her knees. Calli clutched Maya harder, feeling the small girl sobbing. This was a nightmare, something the Elder’s told children to frighten them. Stories, only stories. It couldn’t be real… yet…
“No! No no no…” came her mothyr’s crying, “Don’t kill them! Please. Please! I beg you, please!”
Yet the demons made no sound as they began to walk towards them, no words of agreement, only the eerie silence that flew from them. Her legs buckled, she knew what would come next. As a long pale claw reached towards her, Calli shut her eyes, turning her body away to protect her small sister from the demon. Calli cried silently as she thought of her family, before embracing the end.
