[centre][h3]Wrestling and Merrymaking — Life in Rehna[/h3]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/6HKeAgY.jpeg[/img][/centre]
[sub][i]24-30 AA | Years 9-15[/i][/sub]  

  The people of Rehna were for the most part lowly peasants and farmers. They were, however, by a happenstance of history free from some of the higher demands for labour, produce, and military levies to which petty [i]shid[/i] Dharqul of Zira subjected other towns and villages in his [abbr=a general term for lands a shid holds, from a kingdom-sized one to a manorial estate; in this case it is a fief]shidra[/abbr]. To the west and north of the village were hills, and nestled in a forested vale between the western hills was a lake of some size. Beyond the northern hills, the plains of the Khadaar stretched out for endless leagues in all directions, while the east and immediate south of the village was made up of farmlands. The river Muhaddir flowed perhaps a day’s journey south — meaning the village lay on the natural border between the two major belligerents in Dehrthaa’s civil war.

  But Rehna had always had something of a martial tradition — war and conflict was the norm in Dehrthaa, not the exception, and any town or village required able young men to leap to the defence of their kin at a moment’s notice. They were rural village people, and so their conception of the ideal warrior-youth emphasised strength — and that was why any festive occasion almost always included a village-wide wrestling event. Sometimes it was a competition in which all the youths took part, other times it was a match between the renowned wrestlers from across the region. 

  Sugae was by no means the strongest wrestler, but herding had made him deft and nimble, his hands — like those of near everyone — calloused even at a young age. While he was more than able to bring down opponents in single matches, he never won any competitions. His agility did, however, mean that those stronger and bigger than him often struggled to get him to submit — he was stubborn and strong-willed in that sense, his nature repulsed by the idea of surrender. 

  His close friend and kinsman Shidhig, however, was big and tall — often even the older boys struggled against him. And as he grew he waxed strong and gained increasing renown for his vigour and might in the wrestling ring. At thirteen he was able to throw even the hulking Olkiq, three years his senior. “It’s not all about strength or size,” Bori, Olkiq's father and Sugae's maternal great-uncle, would often say after such wrestling matches, “I’ve seen little fellas take out giants twice their size.”

  “How'd they do it?” Sugae once asked with a frown. Bori scoffed and brought the cup of palm wine to his lips.

  “It’s in the method, pup. Now method won’t help if you’re a twig — which you're not, my niece has taken care of that — and if you’ve got some strength and know what you’re doin’ you can tire out big lumbering oafs and crush ‘em. Brutes that think with their pecs may get far with the rabble, but one man with a good head for technique can bring ‘em down a notch or two.”

  Along with wrestling, there was a stick-fighting tradition — as, indeed, was the case for most towns and villages around the Khadaar. A stick was an effective weapon in skilled hands and villages had been known to drive off marauders and mercenary bands with nothing more than militias armed with sticks and staffs. Being nimble and quick aided Sugae when it came to stick-fighting — he was often able to duck and weave his way around bigger and stronger opponents, and even the brawny Shidhig could not always pin him down or best him.

  As with any community, disputes often arose — indeed, when young men were prone to wrestling and stick-fighting, competitiveness could very easily turn into rivalry, and rivalry into envy and enmity. Sometimes playfighting swiftly descended into an altogether more serious affair — that was the way with these things. When these were not resolved and became something bigger, it was to the headman that the people of Rehna turned — indeed, all kinds of disputes inexorably found their way to headman Jishnu who was the last living son of Rahuna himself, from whom most Rehnites were patrilineally or matrilineally descended and after whom Rehna was named. Intermittently brought before the old headman were marriage quarrels, land disputes, inheritance disagreements, squabbles between wives and in-laws, and — perhaps the most serious — troubles emerging from historic family feuds or unresolved issues.

  It came to be that a dispute arose one day between the old smith Palwijtha and his niece, Dhula. Now old Palwijtha had for a long time been a good uncle to Dhula and her son, Shidhig. Though she was a mere widow and had slaved away for her father- and mother-in-law until they died and now lived a simple life with her son, old Palwijtha had married her mother — his brother's widow — and taken the orphaned Shidhig under his wing and had taught the boy much of smithing; when he was not running off into the hills with Sugae, that was. And even when Dhula's mother died, he would often send them food or what coin he could spare, to ensure that his niece and her son were able to keep up some semblance of face and honour before the other villagers. In exchange for this, the old man asked little more than for Dhula to fix up old clothes for him from time to time.

  Now as he aged and his smith’s disease worsened, the old man — whose wife was now long dead, and whose daughters, Dhula's half-sisters, had all been married off and lived in different villages — found that he was in need of greater help and petitioned his niece to assist him. But Dhula was hard-pressed enough caring for herself and her son, and so naturally refused to take up caring duties for the old man. And so Palwijtha took his matter to the ancient headman Jishnu, his great-uncle. “I have been good to her — gone beyond the bounds of duty. And now when I am old and can hardly breathe, she turns her back on me.” The veteran of the bloodletting fields rasped in complaint. “Does a niece not have a duty to care for her old and ailing uncle?” 

  The frail Jishnu, sat on a bench leaning on his staff, nodded slowly. “You’ve been good to her Palwijtha — but you were good to her because you are good, not because you expected anything in return.”

  “Of course! But can no one speak some sense into her? She’s like my daughter! She has no husband — my brother was claimed long ago on the bloodletting fields — and she has no in-laws. Her mother I married and cared for, as was my duty — and she was good to me and did her duty also. Her sisters are all of them gone — Renu in Milna with her husband, Srupa with her husband in Ahpur. Had I sons and had they wives, I wouldn’t call on her, but I have only her.”

  “Come now Palwijtha, it doesn’t befit an old man like you — a warrior at that — to complain like this. We’ll send to Renu and Srupa and they can send you some help. Their daughters are old enough now, one of them should be able to come and aid her old grandfather, surely.” The old smith grumbled but ultimately acquiesced.

  “May the gods curse me if I aid her ever again,” he muttered as he rose.

  “Ah, Palwijtha, would you have all the virtues you’ve amassed thrown against the wind like dust? Don’t change your goodness because of this. And you need to understand that she is a woman alone — no mother, no husband  — , she only has her son and he is her greatest duty. Don’t hold it against her.” But Palwijtha was an old man, and age brought with it weakness and weakness brought with it fear; and out of fear and weakness grew selfishness and so he never sent aid to his niece again. He allowed Shidhig to work with him — though that was because he needed help and the boy was skilled, rather than anything else.

  Now as with any Dehru village, there were many festivals and causes for celebration throughout the year — the harvest was a time of showing thanks and gratitude to the gods, the time of shearing goats likewise festive and subsequent spinning of raw mohair into yarn a communal event filled with laughter, gossip, and renewed camaraderie.

  The celebration of the Mojtha’s birth was one Sugae and the young men generally looked forward to — it was celebrated by watering the sycamore-fig orchards near Rehna’s lake, and the women beautified themselves and chanted lovely songs while the men marched behind. Later, at the centre of the town around Rehna’s beautifully carved shrine — a great stone pillar which had representations of the gods along its length, as well as depictions of battles and feats of heroes and ancestors — music was played and dances were performed in celebration. 

  Priest Ahnu would then come out and stand before the pillar, and he would chant great poetic verses and regale the villagers sat about him in the dim light of dusk with tales of the Mojtha — how he came to descend into the world when the great god Misnaya saw that the world needed balance, how he was blessed with strength and wisdom even from a young age, how people flocked to him — drawn by his charisma, his strength, his justice, his beauty; and how he fought all the corrupt [i]shids[/i] who lived at that time and brought all the Dehrus under his banner to establish the sacred [i]Ramshidra[/i]. By then darkness would have long set-in and the villagers would have lit fires all around the shrine, giving the epic performance a magic of its own.

  The next day was one of wrestling and competing in all kinds of sports for the young men, where they would prove themselves in feats of strength and skill. Those who did well often felt confident enough to propose to one girl or another who had caught their eye during the festivities. Such unions were considered blessed and auspicious — the young women beautified themselves especially so that they could be noticed, the young men often prepared themselves months before so that they could excel in the feats and land themselves a worthy wife.

  Another celebration was that in honour of [abbr=Oraelia, conceived of as male]Hivilarti[/abbr], the great god of the sun, day, goodness, light, life, justice, and of the great open expanses; the one who maintained all life. When this celebration dawned Sugae’s mother, Shammur, would clean the entire house as well as its surroundings. She would have Sugae gather old and unneeded belongings, and the people of Rehna would assemble and light bonfires to burn them by the shrine. Homes were then painted and decorated to give them a festive look. New clothes were worn by all to mark the start of the festival, and so the period leading up to it was often quite demanding for Sugae’s mother and the women of Rehna at large as they busied themselves with weaving, cutting, sewing, embroidering, and quilting new clothes.

  The next day saw the women gathered to sing traditional songs and prepare special dishes of rice for the sun god. The offerings included sweet dishes and fruits too — mainly sugarcane, sweet lime, baobab fruit, and sycamore-figs offered in small wicker winnows. The food was cooked without salt, onions, or garlic, and was strictly vegetarian — only the purest food could be offered, and so great care was taken to ensure it was not contaminated by such impure ingredients. After the food was offered to Hivilarti, it was shared with all the villagers who often gathered to eat together. 

  Many families held reunions on this day — daughters married off to husbands in other villages often returned and distant in-laws gathered. Along with eating, social events were organised to strengthen mutual bonds. The young were expected to go out and accompany their senior relatives, paying respects and seeking blessings. These elders, in turn, were often prepared with gifts for their younger kinsfolk.

  While Sugae was quite used to seeing his [abbr=paternal grandparents][i]baabis[/i][/abbr] — old man Sugaenu and grandmother Satya — due to the fact that his mother cared for them diligently and visited them on a daily basis, this gathering was an opportunity to see kinsfolk who were not so frequently present — his [abbr=paternal aunt][i]bamti[/i][/abbr] Gipaja, who lived in a nearby village with her husband, was one such relative. She was a humorous woman and the heart of any gathering, talking ceaselessly and laughing just as much. She often brought gifts, assuring him that she had saved the very best for her favourite nephew. His [abbr=maternal aunt][i]mamti[/i][/abbr] Kumari was likewise talkative, though her humour was more cutting and often came at the expense of her soft-spoken husband. The youngest of his [abbr=paternal uncles][i]babtis[/i][/abbr], Arajit, invariably took this gathering as an opportunity to petition Sugae’s [abbr=maternal grandparents][i]maabis[/i][/abbr], old man Vasu and grandmother Sudeshna, for Shammur’s hand in marriage. “It is only fitting that I, her husband’s brother, should marry her.” He would say. But Sugae’s mother, as she had done every year since her husband’s strange disappearance, refused.

  “I am happy to live simply and do my duty to my husband’s parents.” She would respond.

  “A woman like you is yet young — do you not wish after more children? Soon you will be old, and you will find yourself alone. Numerous children are the delight of old age.”

  “When old age comes, I will deal with that. Please, don’t spoil the celebrations with such talk, brother-in-law.” Perhaps if Shammur had no brothers to fend off Arajit’s advances, she would have eventually succumbed to his incessant proposals, but she had two brothers, Baraha and Dharem, who were veterans of the bloodletting and renowned for their wild and fiery dispositions — a flash from either often quietened the dogged suitor. Arajit’s elder brother, Prahaben, was a veteran also and considered Shammur — the widow of a great warrior of the bloodletting fields like his brother Ravuk — far above being the wife of Arajit. The man had approached Shammur himself when Ravuk had first disappeared, but had taken her rejection as final and never sought her again — the stubborn Arajit, however, did not seem to know when to take no for an answer.

  On the eve of this third and last day, every household accompanied its matriarch over the hills and into the forested vale where Rehna’s great lake lay. There they made offerings to the setting sun along with prayers. Women and young girls prayed for their brothers’ wellbeing, and brothers paid special tribute to their married sisters by giving gifts as affirmation of their filial love. What followed was then almost a carnival and folk songs were sung throughout the evening, and young men danced around fires and fought with sticks and displayed their agility and quickness.

  Sugae had no siblings, however, and he would watch the women as they prayed for their brothers, and the brothers as they gave their sisters gifts and honoured them. From this part of the celebrations he felt distinctly excluded. Shidhig would sit by him and watch. “Eh, you brought a gift again this year?” He laughed, “you think sisters just magically emerge from the lake or pop out of a tree?”

  “I- uh,” Sugae coughed, “I’m gonna give it to my mam, that’s close enough.” The younger boy said with a huff.

  “Hah, that’s not how it works. Your mam just isn’t your sister.” Shidhig grinned.

  “So? If there is anyone who deserves a gift, it’s my mam.”

  “Sure sure, but this isn’t an occasion for that. You just need to accept that we don’t have sisters and so we don’t get to give gifts, and no one prays for us. That’s how it is, we just watch. And we get to wrestle!” The bigger boy rose and, punching Sugae lightly on the shoulder, went to mock-fight some of the other boys in preparation for the night's bouts. Sugae sat sullenly and eyed the small wooden figure he had carved for his mother, carefully wrapped in a small bit of mohair he had put aside just for this.

  “You brought a gift?” A soft voice reached him, driving him from his reverie. He looked to the side and, bathed in the cascading red light of the setting sun, there stood a little goddess. Sugae stared at her for a few seconds, lost in her endless obsidian eyes.

  “Uh- t- this?” He asked, forcefully moving his paralysed mouth. “Well. Yes. I mean. Y'know that I don’t- don’t have a…” he stopped and shut his mouth, then laughed in embarrassment.

  “I know it’s probably bad of me…” she said approaching slowly, “but I heard what you were saying to Shidhig.”

  “Oh. Y-yes.” He swallowed. “I guess it was just some silly idea.” He looked away, tears suddenly forming in his eyes for no reason he could fathom — perhaps it was more sheer embarrassment than anything else.

  “I’ll pray for you.” She said, and he glanced at her in shock. There was a certain anger in her eyes. “I’ll pray for you, Sugaera, so stand up and give me the gift. C’mon.”

  “B- but Mahula, you’re not-”

  “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have listened to Shidhig. I’ll be your sister, so you need to stand up and be a good brother.”

  “Ah, yes.” He stood up, blinking away the tears and looking at her. “Thank you.”

  “Don't thank me.” She smiled. "I'm just here for the gift." She chuckled, and her joy was immediately contagious.

  “Year on year you sound more and more like uncle Bori — you'll be growing a beard soon, no doubt.” He chortled, causing her to scowl in mock-anger. She was not quite able to stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles. 

  “If that happens I'll know who to blame!”

  He was quiet for a few moments, content to simply behold her. She cleared her throat after a few moments. “Uh. H- here, this is for you.” He stumbled over his words, extending the mohair-wrapped figure to her.

  “Thank you.” She smiled, accepting it from him and gently unwrapping it. Within was an amateurish attempt at a carving of the sun god. She looked at him with a smile, her eyes twinkling in the dying light. “I love it. You should keep practising and give me one next year too.” She wrapped it back up and hid it into the folds of her clothes, then glanced out towards the lake. “I’m going to the lake now — I will pray for you, I promise.” And she walked off at a quick but oddly graceful gait. She glanced back once, to find him staring after her with a broad grin that made her laugh.

[indent][list][*][hider=Summary]Introducing aspects of Rehnite life — wrestling and stick fighting traditions and competitions, dispute resolution, festivities, family politics. We end on the celebration in honour of the sun god. Sugae sits with his sercond-cousin Shidhig and they watch one of the rituals, where brothers give gifts to their sisters by the lake and sisters make prayers for their brothers. As both are sisterless, they don't get to partake. Sugae had made a gift anyway, and Shidhig mocks him for it before running off. Mahula, his cousin-once-removed, then shows up and comforts him, offering to be his sister. An agreement is forged in steel and rock, she takes the gift and goes off to pray for him (and her brothers, obvs) at the lake.[/hider]

[*][hider=Prestige]~19,000 characters. +5 Prestige to Sugae; 10 Prestige in total.[/hider][/list][/indent]