Preparing for trial

It had been a while since Edward had reached the age of trial. Tradition had it that he should traverse the needle range of mountains before his 20th year on earth. Many a man had been through it before. Most finish. But those who didn’t were never seen or heard from again.

His father had many deep scars from his venture. But refused to talk about the events that marked him for life. His father was a humble man, but was the chieftain of the tribe. He was wise with it, unlike other local tribes chiefs. His mother was also well respected. She had saved many from death during childbirth with her medicines and care. Together they stood proud. But Edward felt a heavy burden upon his shoulders with the upcoming feat. He felt if he failed he would bring disgrace to his family. He owed it to his father, who had trained him, to succeed.

The fire was roaring. Plenty of meat and wine were to hand for the warrior’s path. It was an occasion the tribe well and truly celebrated so that what could be the young men’s final meal would see them remembered in a happy life. Even grieving mothers would join in bittersweet celebration. The men were sure to be kind towards them. Many bought small tokens of appreciation for their sacrifice.

Many used this opportunity to lay with those who had taken their affection. As the numbers dwindled the fire reduced to a large pile of embers; still ferociously hot. Edward stood, staring into them. Eyes beginning to water from the heat. He’d had a skinful of wine and was contemplating what lay ahead for him. Sora had been smiling at him from the other side of the fire, whispering and giggling with her friends. With a sigh he approached her. Her friends soon slipped away, leaving the two of them together.

She gripped him tightly. Fighting back her tears while holding her head close to his chest. He noticed her silence and cupped her head in his hand. Bending to kiss her on the head. Taking a moment to smell her hair, in case it was the last time. He still didn’t know how she managed to smell quite so different to the others. She was a master of oils after learning from her parents. She had her own blend.

A horn sounded. The elders came out in full ceremonial dress. Feathers and beads with strips of bright cloth around their arms and legs. One carried a bow, another a quiver, and another a leather sack. This was the traditional equipment for the trial. Some of the younger men bullishly knocked him into their arms, raising him up above their heads. Their chant signified the beginning. What was meant to be encouragement was drowned out by the sadness of being torn away from his love so abruptly.
He took the items with a heavy heart. With a strong embrace from his mother and a firm grab on his shoulder from his father he turned with a sigh and took his first steps into the foothills.

I quickly grew to regret the name Edward despite our amusement. But I’ll leave it in!