Today is the day. It’s impossible to dey it, no matter how much I beg the gods to let me be. I roll around in my bed, sheets thin and cold against the lingering night air, knowing that at any minute my mother would come in and try to make a fuss about it being my Big Day. I stop rolling and stare out the window, the light of the sun just starting to come over the open windowsill, the heat of summer starting to creep in.
It is my eighteenth birthday, a day where everything changes for every child of Rin, when we become adults. The gods will bestow on us our purpose in life in the form of a blessing, a thing that defines us, shapes us and enhances us. A cursed existence bestowed upon us, its never what we want, always something that is the opposite of who we believe we are.
I hear a creaking from behind me as the door opens slowly, my mother’s gentle voice chiming through, “Eta… It’s time to get up my little basket of joy… it's the big day!” A sing-song voice, trying her best to show that it’s a good day, not that either of us could believe that.
Everyone faced their eighteenth birthday with fear, at least here in our vilge, so close to the great wall. It was too easy for them to send people with combat blessings away as soon as they could, to get sughtered like baby Ramin. “Yeah… I'm awake… It was hard enough to sleep with today on my mind…” She sighs and I hear her approaching the bed, a warm arm gently wrapping around my back.
She was always warm, always working in front of the firepce with her hands, until they were hurting, just because she was given a crafting blessing. She hated using her hands like this… She wanted to be a shield-maiden. She tried so hard, wishing that she could overcome the curse. Will I be the same way? living a hated life just to make sure my family could keep living? ... Do I even want a family?
“Alright that's enough sulking my little moo! There's a full day of harvesting to be done before you even have to deal with such things!” I groan, push my mother’s arm away and roll over once more, facing her worried eyes.
A bell chimes in the distance, calling out to our poor town that the day has begun. “Do you think…” I start to ask, then stop, already knowing the answer.
She smiles wryly at me, still trying to hide her anxiety. “Of course I think butterbean, I think everything will be perfectly fine! Now, get yourself up, Your father will need help in the fields, don’t you skip out of scripture and then after your blessing, we have a special present waiting for you!”
I would never skip out on scripture, the cocky grin of the town Guardian coming to mind, bringing some small comfort. I smile and shoo her out, zily waving my hand at her. The door closes softly and instantly voices are heard from beyond it. Father and mother arguing to relieve their tension, that we all have been feeling for the st few weeks as my birthday got closer.
I rise from my bed and close the window, knowing at least a few of the vilgers that would savor the sight. Slipping out of my white bed-clothes, the gentlest silk a girl could find in such a run-down vilge, the st birthday present I had received, taking care of it as if it was my own skin.
My farming gear is next to my bed for quick access. I carefully dress, putting each piece on at a time, making sure it's perfect, patting down all the creases. I stand in front of an old tall mirror and brush through my hair with a wooden comb. My most precious possession, given from my grandmother before she passed, a woman of unbridled beauty, never one to give up on bettering her looks no matter the cost, despite her being blessed as a bcksmith. A profession requiring you to stand in front of a roaring fme for most of the day will do things to you, all that sweat and grime, ugh.
I thread the wooden brush through my hair. Slowly I count, knowing I have time aplenty before father calls out to me, wanting myself to be as beautiful as possible before going. I'm an adult now, I have women to impress upon. I hum as I comb, watching my long bck hair rise and fall, as I find every imperfection, with my slow and practised movements.
…
“One day you're going to have to learn that being pretty isn't everything Eta, and I fear that today might be that day Moonshine!” My father cackles at how prim and proper I'm trying to look in my farming gear, he says something simir every time I come out into the fields. But on more than one occasion a maiden of the vilge has come looking for me, I would not allow myself to look bad for them, lest they are here for their own interest.
“The gods are cruel but are they that cruel? No matter what blessing I get it's not going to stop me from trying to look my best! Even gran was able to incorporate beauty into being a bcksmith. Some men just love a muscled woman… even if she wasn't the best at it, but at least the expectation isn't there…” He nods and takes out a pipe from a pocket in the top of his shirt, lights it and spouts his fatherly wisdom before us…
“Fuck the gods!” He announces, pipe held high. “We got what we got right now Eta, we just have to do the best we can to survive! Besides, yer too fuckin young to be thinking about what men want, yer gonna have enough on yer pte figuring out what the fuck to do about yer blessin!” He nods like he just threw a goddamn wisdom explosion and resumes his farming. I can only sigh and pick up the tool bag next to him. I've worked the fields long enough that I know exactly where to start, and so I do, ready to ruin all the work I’d spent the morning on, just like I had the past 7 years… If I actually owned makeup I would be even more pissed!
The day feels as long as it always does, though the sun starts disappearing earlier and earlier, showing us that the hot season will be coming, the worst time for my skin! I have to be extra careful that I don't get too much contact with the light, ruining my complexion for the day and feeling constantly dry like one of mothers cooked desserts without the nulfur’s sweet milk. I am no cooked dessert!
The day starts to regrettably end, my time in the fields waning, getting closer to what is starting to feel like my demise. My fathers words weighing on me more. Would the gods make some kind of special exception to give me something really gross?! Noo they wouldn't dare! I swear to the Underpath that they’d better not! I shiver at the thought of getting a blessing that involves being good at cleaning sewers or having to raise pigs… the horror of the thought! I might be a farm girl but I have my dignity!
“Alright little moo I think it's about time…” My father approaches me from behind, patting me on the shoulder and then pushing me forwards as I look towards the sunset. The golden hue whispering sweet farewells to my childhood. I guess it's time to get this over and done with!
I set my resolve, making a promise to myself to never give up who I am as a person regardless of what blessing I would be given. Besides, it will probably be something that is needed in the farm. The whole family has been given something reted to working it or in the vilge for the st 6 generations. I feel it's only right if I'm the same, maybe I’ll become a bcksmith like gran? It would still be easy to have the girls will swoon over me if its that.
I’ve already got plenty of muscles from working the fields everyday, nothing gets a girl more interested than to feel your muscles. Most of the girls seem to be all about men this and men that, why doesn't anyone talk about women the same way? Insane to not appreciate beauty when it's right in front of you. They seem to have forgotten the times I had so many of them behind the barns, their blushing faces, now they look at me with worry, like I would spill their secrets. But Eta never kisses and tells! It feels like they are being told who to want, they talk in their circles forcing themselves to say such things, its downright strange!
We walk back to the house in silence before putting away the farming equipment. The creaking of the barn door bringing an end to the day for us, and the start of a new day for just me. “Get ready and head to the temple, I'm sure the guardian is waiting for you to arrive.” My room feels… empty, worry filling every corner, despite my resolve. I strip and get on my white gown. Something I had chosen a year ago for the occasion, not just because of what day it is, but because the Guardian was an older extremely fit woman who’s cocky grin could knock down each and every part of my brain with a look, her voice doing much the same or more.
My hair tied and brushed no less than 100 times, my gown patted down and looked at from every angle, my sandal shoes tightened and the ces hanging perfectly adjacent to one another. After further multiple inspections, my brain finally agrees with me that it will work, it's fine… just fine… agh! I could never get it perfect anyway! My constant frustration at how perfection would look is disturbed by a rapping on my door.
“That's quite enough now! Your father has been pacing for a gosh-darn hour and I’m sick of it! Take your old man up before I take you both behind the house and find a good spot to bury the both of you!” Oh she was done. Dust it, this is good enough! I emerge and ask for comments, my father cps his hands with tears in his eyes, my mother, is about ready to grab her rgest spoon, yeah that's the best I’ll get for now!
The walk to the church is, uncomfortable, the silence, the knowing that things will change for me once the words of blessing are spoken. They say each blessing changes you in different ways, tries its best to mould you into what you should be, not who you are. A constant fighting of your personality against something that you aren't. That's why they say it's a curse on us, but we receive it willingly every time we turn 18, forced or not by the ws of the nd. It's a need to create bance… or that's at least what they tell us.
I’m pulled to a stop and brought in for a bear hug. The smell on earth from my fathers clothes is still evident from a long work day, I have to stop myself from panicking, worrying that hes gotten something on my dress. “Alright my little moo… this is as far as I go. I'll be waiting here for when yer, done.” He pulls back, tears in the sides of his eyes, fearful for me more than I am for myself.
“I’ll be fine papa, it will not change me… and I’ll be back working on the farm ruining my beauty again before you know it!” He smiles back at me ruefully knowing it won't be true, it always changes. I nod back sadly and push at the heavy oak doors of the temple, its creaking noises as it gives way, the beautiful carvings in the dark, along with the fluttering of the candles as I enter. It sms behind me with a thud as I enter. I startle and whisper to myself as I do whenever I enter, “Keep out the cold and the bad thoughts.”
A deep voice rings out through the building, “Are ya scared child?” Startled again, I look over to see the rge hooded woman sitting on a pew, her rge scarred hands csped in prayer.
I shake my head violently at her words, “N-no, I won't be scared of my future no matter what it holds, and I'm no longer a child! I could be counted as a woman you know, of Ahem b-bondable age!” She pauses and then ughs at my words.
“Oh aye, you always were a pretty one I will count you that!” Her words send shivers up my spine, she stands up and hulks over me, her gristled features dominating every part of my brain, how can a woman be so rugged yet so beautiful?! “But ye are but still a child. Ya ain’t an adult until ye syed yer first beastie!” My brain is fuming listening to such words, provoking anger for some reason in the core of myself. “But aye can tell ya one thing, yar right to not be afraid! An aym proud of ya fer that!”
“There's nothing child-like about me! And how can I be afraid of such a curse when everyone else gets it?! That would just be silly!” She pauses and looks over, shaking her head.
“Hah, no child, that’s not why ya shouldn’t be afraid, ya people see it as a curse because they think it is, it aint that… it’s a chance to better yourself is what it is, to be the absolute best of yerself, overcome all yer trivialities!” She resumes walking and I follow obediently behind her. But there is nothing wrong with me? I just think I should look pretty and clean, that's not a bad thing!? Just because I have to make sure everything’s perfect and in pce and ugh! I'll show them all, I'll still be myself even with my blessing!
I’m led to a room with a pool of water in the centre. She motions to the mat on the floor, it lies above the water so as to be able to see it below yourself. “I'll be locking the door, only ye will see what ye see and hear what ye hear, it will happen as it always happens, good luck young pup!”
I hurriedly open my mouth before she leaves, “Wait! What happens if someone doesn't do this? Do they still get their blessing?!” I’ve always wondered such but people never wanted to say. She pauses and speaks with sadness.
“Do ya member Det, the baker’s son?” Of course I do, everyone remembers, he woke up screaming in pain, nearly went mad, you could hear it through the whole town, he was taken as a warrior for the walls soon after… oh! Oh…
She nods, seeing that I’ve realised from the look on my face, I guess this is the less painful path then? See it in the water instead of your head, must be painful for the gods to smoosh it into your brain! I'll take this way thank you. The heavy door cnks, and then clicks as a key turns, the jingle of keys fading as The Guardian turns to rest and wait.
I sit down on the mat dutifully and stare around the room, anywhere but the water. It's bright here I realise… I can see every marking on the stone as it was id here. I see the markings of damage to the walls as over the hundreds of years people have attacked it in dismay for finding out what their entire purpose would be, farmers made to be sacrificed on the fields in only moments.
The room is lit by the Guardian's eye, it shines white in the pure darkness of the hollow sky. The domain of the gods, behind the darkness. From the window behind me into the rge basin of water, the eye is reflected back at me… No it's not a reflection… I should be in front of it if it was reflecting from the window??
I lean over and hesitatingly touch it, watching the ripples flow over and under the eye, is it not real?... Just a figment of my imagination? That is until I hear her voice… my… voice?
? Ohhh run, run, young daughter of rage, towards the horde that will not fadeRun, run, no fear only fun, rage into the night~They fall as you swing, they fall as you chop, A mountain of corpses will not be enoughYou fight for your heart, you fight for your home but what is left when you're cut to the bone?!Rage! Rage! Oh daughter of Rage! Morning does cometh but so does the pain. ?
The song resounds in my head as I watch someone running through the fields, their half broken body screaming for them to stop as they ugh. A madness of the mind overtaking them, the smile on their face as they bring down monster after monster, their body becoming more and more devastated, until there’s nothing left but blood and exposed bone. Her body full of scars already, her hair nearly cut down to the scalp, in her hand is the rgest weapon I've ever seen, some kind of curved giant bde.
“That’s, that's me isn't it?” the singing has stopped, I had stopped singing, Is that my future? Covered in wounds and scars and blood and my beautiful, beautiful hair. That can't be me?!
But I now know what my blessing is, I’d heard the stories. I fall to my knees in horror scrapping them against the stone uncaring.
A Berserker, A Mindless Camity of Rage and Sughter.
