Falling Leaf

They were a people without the concerns of others, content with their simple, uncluttered way of life. Their quaint village lay beyond the majestic peaks of the Brown Rock Mountains in a vast realm known as Southwilde. For eight generations, the people of South Peak Village enjoyed fertile grounds for farming, lush pastures for their herds, and woods full of game to hunt. As the sun dawned, a girl on the cusp of womanhood strolled the banks of the High Bush River with her father. However, these two were not ordinary denizens of South Peak. He, as a dozen generations before him, was a druid. The young woman who strolled with him, a fledgling druid, hoped to follow the druid path.

“Tell me what you know of change, what it means,” he requested.

She paused at her father’s curious request and pointed toward the rising sun. “Change is when something becomes different. The world warms when the sun rises.”

He stopped to pick up a wilted leaf from the ground and gave it to her. “And this leaf?”

“A change in the season when the leaves wilt and fall from the trees.”

“And what of tomorrow?” he asked.

“Our farmers will plant the seeds for the summer harvest,” she replied.

“And what other change will happen tomorrow?” he asked.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, which prompted a massive eye roll from her. “Father, you would have to be deaf and blind not to know what’s happening tomorrow. Mother’s planned it since the day I was born.”

“That causes me to mention what you didn’t say about change.”

“Which is…?” she asked.

“That change is inevitable, such as changing the seasons and birthdays,” he said with an affectionate nudge.

“Father, why do we stroll along the river bank this morning, talking of change?”

“I sense change coming… great change,” he said pensively.

“So, I’m to call you Seer instead of Druid?”

He continued to speak as if he hadn’t heard her comment. “I sense great change, but more than that… an upheaval.”

“I don’t know what upheaval means, but by the look on your face, I’m not sure I want to know. Is everything well?” she asked and laid a hand on his arm.

He patted her hand. “I don’t mean to worry you. Perhaps my thoughts are running amok this morning. Come, let’s see what your mother has prepared for breakfast.”

***

As the sun rose to greet the first day of summer, Naria exhaled a long-suffering sigh and looked to the heavens for help. She felt poked, prodded, and groomed her to the end of her patience.

“Mother, please, I’ve had enough! You know how I hate all this fuss!” she pleaded.

“Humor your mother; it’s not every day that a girl comes of age in this village. I’ve dreamed of this since the day you were born.”

“Why couldn’t I have been born a male? They get to go out and hunt when they come of age! Something useful, something interesting! I must endure a ceremony displaying my… eligibility,” she spluttered, “It’s embarrassing!”

Leeda placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders to calm her, and there were times she honestly didn’t understand her. Her own coming-of-age day was the most memorable of her life, save her marriage day. “It’s tradition, an honored tradition at that. You’re smart and pretty, so why be embarrassed? There were eight fine young men at the door this morning asking your father for permission to court you! Eight! And it’s only morning!” she declared cheerfully.

The hut door swung open, and Nidale placed another suitor’s offering on the dining table with a sigh. “Make those nine young men,” he said dryly.

“Father, please say that Doonay was one of them! He’s the only one I’d even consider!”

“Yes, my falling leaf. He was the first,” he assured her. “He tried to scare the others away, but until you’ve formally declared your intention—”

Naria rolled her eyes. “I know, heaven help me, that anyone can seek my hand until I declare my intention. Don’t they know that Doonay and I have been friends since we could walk?”

“Childhood friends are one thing; a potential wife is another. Not only are you of age today, but you’re the future druid of this village. I imagine there will be a minor war among the men for your hand,” her father teased.

“Hanya only had three suitors,” her mother added smugly.

“Mother, she’s my friend. Be nice!” Naria chided. “My being a druid, that’s not known. Not until I complete the vision quest, if I receive a vision at all.”

Her father placed his hands on her shoulders and peered into her eyes as he spoke. “It’s known among our people that only druids have green eyes. There are only two pairs of green eyes in this village, and they belong to us. When you were a child, the others made mud cakes while you made poultices. You sensed your grandfather’s spirit, and it didn’t scare you. You’re Druid, I’m certain of it.”

While Naria finished her ritual preparations, Nidale appraised his daughter once more. It might be the thoughts of a proud father, but she was the prize of the village, he was sure of it. Whatever young man would catch her pretty eyes wouldn’t know what hit him.

***

When the sun was at its highest point in the midday sky, Naria began the symbolic rituals of her coming-of-age ceremony. The entire village gathered at the lodge of the celebrant. She emerged, clad a new woman’s doe-skin tunic, and placed her belongings outside the door.

South Peak’s chief elder spoke. “Nidale, do you present your daughter as a woman of our people on this day?”

“I do.”

The elder nodded and turned to Naria. “Are you ready to take your place as a woman of our people?”

“I am ready, elder.”

Her mother joyfully raised her hands to the sky.

“Are your food and crafts prepared for the feast?”

“It is, elder.”

The feast the elder spoke of was another part of the ritual. Naria had spent most of her time to prepare food and various crafts for the feast days before the ceremony. Potential suitors sampled her culinary offerings and evaluated her skills to judge her suitability as a homemaker for her future family. Her parents stood proudly behind her as she warmly greeted everyone who stepped forward and sampled her venison stew, which was a success. Feasting, dancing, storytelling, and games of chance and skill lasted well into the night. Children gathered around a fire to listen to Naria play songs on her wooden flute. She bid the children goodnight and brought the flute to her lips. Before she played another note, hands came from behind and covered her eyes.

“Will it be Naria’s bedtime soon?” a masculine voice playfully asked.

She pretended to yawn and face Doonay, who pulled her to her feet and nodded toward the High Bush River. Several men standing nearby that waited to talk to her shook their heads and mumbled as Doonay led her to the river. They walked silently along the riverbank, neither one knowing what to say. She realized that the feelings of their friendship had subtly shifted. Did her friend now look at her as a potential wife? How would things change between them? Doonay broke the awkward silence when he nervously cleared his throat.

“It’s a pleasant night out,” he remarked.

“It’s the solstice; the moon is at its fullest,” she replied.

“I… I shouldn’t be having this much trouble.”

“What trouble?”

“Talking to you, falling leaf.”

Her exasperation level rose once more. “It’s just me, Naria, the girl you’ve known your whole life… and I wish people would stop calling me that!”

When she was seven, she climbed a moon fruit tree to get the last of the season’s unpicked fruit and fell from the limb. She broke her arm, and since that day, her nickname had been “falling leaf.”

“As of today, you’re not a girl… now wait, that wasn’t right…” he stammered and frowned at his jumbled words.

“Ah, I see. Father said you were one of my suitors this morning.”

He ran a hand through his hair, straightened his tunic collar, and cleared his throat before speaking. “I know you’re leaving for your quest tomorrow, but when you return, w-would you consider letting m-me court you?”

She had never seen her friend so out of sorts, so she laid her hand on his arm to calm him. “Like I told Father this morning, you’re the only one I’d ever consider.”

“I saw you talking to Sondow, and he likes you, so—”

Sondow likes me? She held up her hand to halt his worried rambling. “I had to play a part today, and I had to talk to everyone. Sondow was admiring the fishing net I wove, which your father taught me to make years ago.”

His smile glowed in the moonlight when he removed the bear tooth necklace he was wearing and held it out to her. “I want you to have it.”

“I can’t take it; it’s from your hunt the day you came of age!”

“Please wear it. I know it’s not what you deserve, but it would mean much to me if you would wear it.”

“All right, if it means much to you, I will.”

After he put it around her neck, they shared their first kiss.