Member-only story
The Union of Life
The price of a strong will
On the night of the full moon, my clan was attacked by a neighboring tribe. Our village was burned, our people left for dead, and our chieftain watched helplessly as I was captured and taken away.
I knew I’d have to forge my own escape. I may have been born a girl, but I was the daughter of a great warrior. He always told me that to be a great warrior, you must survive to fight another day.
My captors sat by the bonfire, telling tales and drinking themselves blind. I knew this was my chance to escape. I stayed in the shadows, stepping lightly so as not to make a sound. Soon, I’d made my way out of the village and into the woods. I had only the light of the moon to guide me. I followed the path, keeping the moon at my back, hoping to find the morning sun.
As the first rays of light began to rise, I entered a clearing in the forest. At the center was a weathered altar. On its left stood a statue of a long-forgotten female deity. On its right stood a mighty oak with what looked like a human face just below its massive branches.
I walked to the altar and lay my hands upon the stone. That’s when I heard a rustle in the trees. I spun around to find a young child carrying a straw-stuffed doll and wearing torn clothing and worn boots. She was the daughter of the village wise woman.
