Celestial Roots

Chapter 13: The weather is turning

When Taghna woke up, the darkness was slowly enveloping the forest. An orange light was spreading between the larger and darker leaves. Taghna was shaking from the cold. It took her a moment to remember the events of the day. Then everything came back to her all of a sudden. The boar's skrieks, the sounds of its footsteps, the fear of death, the guilt of Færn's accident... Her heart started beating very fast and she had trouble breathing.

She made an effort to get up, her legs numb, and tapped her feet on the ground to get out of her torpor. She wanted to leave, run away to forget, to be forgotten. However, her concern for her friend was stronger and she walked quickly to return to Séaroën. She reached the village after dark.

Rissar was telling a story. She had chosen a soothing and playful theme: the first hunts that followed her own transition to adulthood. The dean saw Taghna, stopped talking for a moment and looked at her with a warm and kind smile. Taghna sat next to Ranié. The little girl put a hand on her shoulder and glanced at her with a comforting look. Taghna appreciated the gesture and was touched by it. Her classmates seemed really concerned about her.

At the end of the story, Taghna hurried to join Rissar who was leaving for the mataïg. She wanted to hear from Færn. The dean's face darkened:

- Færn has a broken arm and cracked ribs. We have to wait and see how it goes tonight. If his condition does not worsen, then he will be saved.

- Is that true? asked Tagha, with a knotted throat.

- Yes. But I trust him. He's always followed you wherever you go, hasn't he? He's not going to abandon you anytime soon.

Taghna wanted to smile, to show that she believed in the abilities of the séalyar, but her lips did not respond to her orders. She was obsessed by a thought:

- Rissar... Do you think he'll be ready for the stroïgil?

The dean was thoughtful for a while. Taghna didn't know if the old woman was trying to hide the truth or if she was thinking seriously about the issue.

- No one can know what is in store for us when something has not yet happened. Færn must rest. There is nothing more we can do at this time.

The next day, a hot and foul wind was blowing over the village. The snow had suddenly melted. In the centre, only mud, viscous and wet, was visible. In the woods, grey and brown patches remained in places. The snow had lost its dominance over nature. The atmosphere was heavy, worried, as if a harmful vapour thickened the ambient air, transforming it into a palpable element.

After a moment of hesitation, the children removed their furs. Taghna wanted to go to Færn but access to mataïg was refused by Séacas, who simply told her that Færn was still alive. Determined not to listen to the lame man's injunctions, Taghna pretended to walk away. She went around the houses and squatted down behind the swollen roots of a séarach. She waited until everyone was busy and rushed to the entrance of the séalyar's house. She lifted the skin effortlessly and entered the forbidden space.

The smells that reigned there immediately reminded Taghna of the long moments spent during the Hir, locked up playing with Asgeül and Slavan. The smoky air stung her eyes and nose, but she felt good and safe there. She looked into the darkness. Færn was lying not far from a small fire. He was breathing quickly and his face was tight and covered with sweat. She approached him in small steps and took his hand. Her friend woke up and sketched the shadow of a smile.

- Taghna.... I'm relieved you're okay.

- Stop talking nonsense, she replied softly.

- Did we get it?