The oxen leisurely pulled their cart along the well-worked trail, with Hogog sitting at the front and Gairin sleeping on the back, furs wrapped around him. Walking behind them, Kaye stared at the Nanur village below.

  About half the buildings were tree-houses which connected to each other through suspended bridges or to walkways around particularly large trees. In the ground there were log-houses, several of them with ladders leading up. The Nagra were a peaceful people, the Nanur even more than other tribes, yet they seemed to have still built fortifications, places where they could fight enemies above ground and escape routes. That was what a visitor would likely think; Kaye knew it wasn’t the case.

  The intertwining bridges made the place a cluster of paths, some of which led outside the village, and that meant in as well. The village had no walls for defense and the several entrances and exits would at best serve for them to flee—or be invaded—in just as many directions.

  Aside from the occasional Nagra from another village that happened to have business with the Nanur, anyone traveling close by would have little reason to reach them. There had been conflicts, of course, sometimes with hunters that weren’t Nagra looking for game in their territory, but in general the Nagra would only see new faces in Korok’Kan, Kakinse or on their way to either. Kaye had never seen a foreign visitor come to the village.

  Gairin woke up as the oxen took a turn, but closed his eyes again after seeing that nothing had happened. Hogog was taking them around the village and towards the main entrance, since none of the bridges were sturdy enough for the cart and the draft animals.

  Kaye would rather avoid the attention. “See you soon.”

  She was expecting her father to protest as she stepped out of the trail, but he didn’t. Maybe succeeding in the White Death would give her more leeway.

  Ritual hunts like the one they had set on always drew attention, as big an occasion as a secluded village could have; and it wasn’t just anyone this time, it was Kaye Nanur. The only Starborn to be so obviously connected to the star of her birth, the one that was walking while the other babies were toddlers, the one that had such a strong intuition and learned so easily that they brought her to shamans by the age of six, all of whom expected her gift of prophecy to awake soon.

  It was around that age that what Kaye thought was mere intuition started revealing itself as memories, and in the following years she relived swaths of her fifteen years before death. She grew more cautious since then, but that did not stop her reputation from spreading. Kaye had had few opportunities to speak with Nagra from other villages, but she was well known among all of them.

  There would be a crowd as soon as they approached the main entrance, but her father and uncle could deal with it. Later, Kaye knew, Gairin would complain that she should have been there, that it was an honor to succeed in the rite and that he was proud of her, but he never got angry about those things. Disappointed, perhaps, but not angry.

  She found the other entrance she was looking for soon enough, nothing but the very end of a long bridge that led inside the village. Someone was standing in front of it, which she didn’t expect. Worse: it was Rogar. The narrow face and long braided hair as black as his eyes were hard to mistake.

  His loud laugh reached her and Kaye sighed, approaching. “How did you know when I was coming back?”

  “I didn’t, but you’re not going to believe that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I just happened to be on guard today. You surprised me as much as I did you.”

  “Sounds like something too low for the chief’s son,” Kaye said, stepping onto the bridge.

  “Not at all, Kaye. I will be chief one day…” Rogar’s voice trailed, seeming to suggest something more. “The least I can do is help where I can so I understand my people.”

  She had heard him saying that too many times already.

  The bridge was creaking under her weight, and it creaked differently when Rogar followed.

  “I thought you were on guard.”

  “Are you upset? Did you fail?” he sounded worried. Rogar was genuine, but his intentions were clear.

  If she succeeded, then that meant she could marry.

  “I hunted it down on the first night.”

  Rogar laughed again, even louder. “That is impressive. But then, did something happen? Is your father well?”

  No, but he is old and dying. Rogar was good, but Kaye had no interest. He always tried to have a good relationship with her, but sometimes, if she was too disrespectful towards him, he would always remind her that he was Chief Yorog’s son. “My father is well. I am just tired, Rogar, I am sorry. I came here to avoid a crowd in the entrance.”

  “I understand that. Truly, I do. Sometimes I ask to be on guard to be alone. I like the quiet.”

  Was this one of those times? Maybe he had been expecting Kaye to ask. It was better not to push Rogar to dislike her, but she didn’t want to sound interested either.

  She stopped, turned around to look at him. Rogar was only a year older, but he still towered over her. In a few years, his shoulders would grow larger and he would be a tree of a man, almost surely taller than Hogog.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  Rogar smiled, retreating a little. “I promise you it was a coincidence.”

  Kaye believed him. She nodded, turned and continued walking. They were at the village’s edge now, stepping towards the tree-houses.

  “Kaye Nanur!” Rogar shouted from behind her. She turned again, keeping a scowl away from her face, knowing he was only doing it now that some could hear. Holding his spear towards the sky, he said: “And so does a star fall now, from me into you.”

  “And from me into you,” Kaye answered before turning yet again.

  All Nagra knew the words and had said them multiple times. It meant a connection, but no type of connection in particular despite how intimate it sounded. It did not mean they were betrothed, but that was what he wanted it to sound like. She had known for years that this was the night Rogar would ask to marry her, during the ritual. Her family would accept, of course. The future chief and a Starborn, a special one at that. Who wouldn’t accept it?

  Kaye reached the village, stepped onto a wooden platform and then on a bridge that didn’t creak as much. Other Nanur were looking at her now, saying their congratulations. Kaye answered in kind. She truly liked them. She didn’t like what they expected of her.

  Eight-hundred men and women now expected Kaye to be destined for greatness. Stars fell beyond the White Death almost every other year; all Nagra were said to be born under a star because one was always falling somewhere, here or in another world, but only the ones born on the days that a star was visible falling or a comet cut across the sky were known as Starborn. They took her green hair to be a sign of that, a telltale that they should all pay attention to her, that her star brought power with it.

  When Kaye was only Jane, she dreamed of dying her hair green, but her father would only allow it after she turned sixteen. In the last two years she didn’t have any hair and had screamed at her father when he bought her a wig as a birthday present. It was indeed a sign, but of something very different that only she understood. That someone, something out there was responsible for her being born again, and that something had given her a small thing she wanted.

  Though the village was a labyrinth Kaye knew it well enough to take the shortest path towards her home. Seeing the log-house and the treehouse above it on the east-side of the village, she was thankful it was beyond its center and the ancient tree in it. It was much more peaceful that way.

  Her mother was, as expected, the only one inside. She saw Kaye approaching through the window and her smile grew so big it was obnoxious.

  Taya embraced her in the entrance. “I was starting to get worried.”

  “Uncle was with me.”

  “But your father was with him,” her mother said, releasing her from the embrace. For a long moment, Taya stared at her as if seeing something unbelievable, before moving so Kaye could enter.

  She took a deep breath as she did so. The whole village smelled just like the forest around it, but something about her house smelled different.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “The two troublemakers?”

  “Fighting through a crowd as we speak.”

  Taya laughed, sitting down to keep working on shaping pottery. Unlike her husband, Taya’s hair was still mostly black with only a few strands of white. She was shorter than Kaye, rounder.

  “I know you’re tired of hearing this, but you should try to get used to them. You’re not shy with us.”

  “It’s not shyness.”

  “Oh, I think it is.”

  “I just—” she didn’t like lying to her mom. The shyness wasn’t a lie, but she couldn’t say the real reason. “I don’t think it’s fair, and it’s only going to keep happening. They never talk about you. They look at the family but only see me.”

  “I don’t mind, dear. I was a hunter too, though not a great one, and I’ve settled down. It’s your time now, and I know you. You’re not the type to let them drag you around. That part you took from me. The ‘worrying too much’ is from your father.”

  Taya stopped after saying that, taking her hands away from the half-molded earthenware. The shaking wasn’t so bad she couldn’t work, but it did make it harder, especially when it turned into spasms that could last for upwards of minutes. Kaye wished she knew what it was her mother had, maybe she could find a treatment for it that way.

  “Are you listening?” Taya asked.

  “I killed it on the first night.”

  At that her mother turned and they shared a mischievous smile. “Oh, your uncle must have been mad.”

  “Not really.”

  “He was. He just didn’t show it. Trust me. Well, the Hogog from now maybe didn’t, but he was at least a little jealous, that I’m sure of. But don’t think I missed you changing topics, you little rascal.”

  “I was listening, mom.”

  “And?”

  “And I mean it. It bothers me. Besides, everyone will be watching every step I take from now on.”

  “It comes with greatness, dear.”

  I never asked for greatness.

  “And I know you never asked for it, but we can’t control everything. We can’t control most things. It’s up to us to make the best out of what we have.”

  “You’re not wrong, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Stubborn like your father.”

  Taya’s hands stopped trembling and she reached for the pot again. Kaye gave her one last smile before making for the rope ladder and climbing to the treehouse.

  Most Nanur families slept together, but Kaye had taken to sleeping alone most nights a few years ago. She had made half of the upper house her room—the other half was still a storage—, saying that she liked to stare through the window and see the view of the mountains to the north and the sky beyond it, which was all true even if it wasn’t the only reason.

  Taking the recurve bow from her back, she unstrung it and leaned it against the wall, unbraided her hair and removed her moccasins. She wasn’t tired enough to be able to sleep but still needed something to do for the rest of the day. They had arrived early, which meant the ritual would take place tonight.

  Her mind wandered to Taya for a while. When Kaye was still confused on how to feel about her memories and how to not raise any suspicion, there was a period of time in which she avoided talking about her issues much like how an actual child would. Taya often tried to speak with her when she felt something was wrong but Kaye wouldn’t give her anything. Thus, every time they talked about something Kaye felt that Taya had been wanting to have that conversation for ages. If she had said anything that would only have served to feed the rumors of her talent as a seer, but that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was all the different kinds of guilt she felt. Towards Frederick, towards Gairin. She had had two fathers but only one mother, at least only one that was present, and that felt wrong in a different way, almost as if she expected there to be someone else, as if Taya wasn’t enough. Besides that, she had stolen Taya’s chances of having a normal child.

  They were all proud of her, but Kaye would betray them for her own sake. A child that was only Kaye and had never been Jane would continue among the Nanur, most likely ending up wed to the chief, living the Nagra’s way of life. Maybe that girl would be destined to greatness, whatever that meant.

  Then there was the expectation that whatever she did, the attention around her would turn into followers. If she married someone that wasn’t the chief’s son… No, there was no use thinking about that. It wasn’t going to happen.

  Kaye heard her father and uncle arriving and decided she was going to take a bath by the river to avoid having the same conversation again.

  Kaye was fashioning new arrows when they called for her to attend the ritual. She told her mother to wait, fixed her hair the way she preferred—twin small braids falling in front of her ears, the rest of her hair allowed to flow to beyond the shoulders—and dressed in her simplest clothing, a white nightgown that reached all the way to her ankles with a few decorative lines painted in red.

  Her father and mother were waiting in the log-house, each holding a small pot with a lit rushlight protruding out. They stared at her with proud smiles for a moment before moving. Kaye followed them.

  She knew what it would be like as soon as she stepped out. There was no one to be seen around their home, not even in the treehouses.

  Her parents walked slowly; Kaye paced in-between them. With Kaye being slightly taller than other Nanur girls her age and Gairin being hunchback, the three of them were level. Halfway through the village her mother’s light started to tremble and she moved it to the other hand.

  Kaye wasn’t surprised to see what was apparently the entire Nanur village gathered around the ancient tree. There was not enough space for all of them so some were looking down from the ways above the trees. There had been this many people when it was Rogar’s turn, but that was because he was the chief’s son. In most rites of passage there were at best a hundred witnesses, though most of the village would attend the festivities later.

  I hate it. She’d be lucky to get only one proposal tonight.

  There was absolute silence as they approached. A path had already been left open among the crowd, which led towards the gigantic, twisting tree with branches that shot in every direction much like the bridges in the village. Kaye caught dozens of glances, nods and smiles along the way.

  At the base of the ancient tree there was an exposed curved root that looked too round, forming two benches. On the one closer to the tree Chief Yorog was sitting, his long white braided beard reaching to his waistline.

  Her father and mother left her side, leaving Kaye alone to walk the rest of the way.

  She sat in front of the chief.

  This close, Kaye could see the slightest curve to Yorog’s lips, which was the most emotion the man seemed to manage. Everyone agreed that he was a calm person, but Kaye always thought that an understatement. Most times, he seemed outright uninterested in whatever he was seeing.

  Which told her that he was deeply happy with what he was seeing now.

  Yorog raised both hands — no trembling to them despite being as old as her parents —, and as he brought them down the Nanur extinguished the rushlights and torches they carried, the latter in pots filled with water that sizzled for a moment.

  “Why are we gathered on this night?” Yorog asked. His voice was a croak; most of them probably couldn’t hear.

  Kaye thought it would be disrespectful to speak too loudly and so kept her voice only slightly above his. “Kaye Nanur, Starchild.”

  Hundreds of voices echoed her name. They didn’t shout but spoke.

  “What have you achieved?”

  “I hunted on the White Death.”

  “She hunted on the White Death.”

  Kaye’s eyes were getting used to the darkness. She took note of how tired Yorog’s looked.

  “Then leave you mark upon the White Life,” the chief produced a small bone dagger from his sleeve.

  Kaye took it in her right hand before standing up. She walked around the root and the chief, cut a wound across her left palm, then pressed it against the tree and started pacing around it.

  The tree wasn’t perfectly round and there were spots where roots beneath the ground made pumps in the soil, but Kaye still walked around it, left hand against the tree and the right one holding the dagger. Around the pale tree there were brown lines of inconsistent depth where thousands of hunters had left their marks before her, some higher and some lower depending on their height.

  She reached the point where she had started, connected the two ends of the line, scratchy husk against hot blood, then slowly drew away from the tree, delivered the dagger back to Chief Yorog and sat in front of him again.

  “I have left my mark upon the White Life,” Kaye said.

  Her voice was echoed.

  “The day I was born, a star fell.”

  “The day we were born, a star fell.”

  “And so too does one fall now.”

  “From us into you.”

  “And from me into you.”

  The hundreds of voices fell silent.

  When Yorog made to stand up the ritual was done, then the congratulations and shouts started. Rushlights and torches were lit again, fireplaces started to be built. The ceremony always felt simplistic to Kaye. Perhaps half the reason it existed was to justify a social occasion in an uneventful village.

  Kaye knew her father would like to treat her wound, but Rogar reached her before she managed the few paces between them. She allowed him to clean it with a piece of wet cloth, bandage it with another that already had a salve rubbed on top.

  “This night is a great one, Kaye Nanur,” Rogar said, tapping her on the shoulder before he moved away. He had enough tact to not do it immediately, but it would happen later. If Kaye was lucky, Rogar would only ask her parents.

  Gairin’s disappointment was clear in his face when she reached him.

  “Dear,” Taya said. Gairin snapped out of it and his expression changed to a thin smile.

  “Out of the cradle already.”

  She chose to ignore that.

  Hogog appeared between them like a savior, a hand on each of her parent’s shoulders. “Which means you don’t have to flock around her anymore. Kaye, archery contest?”

  With a wave to her father and mother, Kaye followed her uncle.

  “He won’t be the first and only one, you know,” Hogog said when they were far enough away from her parents.

  “I know.”

  “Can I ask you something, girl?”

  “You want to know if I like boys.”

  “That, or if you want me to keep my brother and Taya away. Chances are, the marriage proposals will go to them instead. At least some of them.”

  “No need for that. I can handle it. As for the other thing, I don’t think I like anyone. Never did.” Kaye thought she did, once, back in school, but it didn’t feel that way anymore after comparing it to how some of her friends felt. Perhaps she simply hadn’t met the right person yet, boy or girl. She doubted the distinction mattered.

  “Hmm,” Hogog groaned when it became clear she wasn’t going to elaborate.

  They reached the place where the archery contest was set to take place. The targets were already being set up and there were maybe thirty people waiting, mostly men. The quickness of it told Kaye it had been planned.

  Three hunters at a time took their turns shooting at targets that got progressively farther away, with points being earned by both distance and accuracy. Kaye wasn’t the best archer, but was far from the worst. Her uncle always placed among the top in contests—this time he was third out of almost forty. Even on the bottom of the list, none of them were terrible, only not as good on this night as the other ones.

  Left leg forward, aiming to her side instead of in front to use as much of her back muscles as she could, Kaye took her last shot.

  Shouts ringed around her and Kaye couldn’t help but smile and raise her hands as if taking all the praise in. It was a great shot, almost dead-center, but only enough to bring her up to eighteenth. It went as well as it possibly could. Most hunters competing against her were men, all of whom used longbows and had more upper-body strength than her.

  With that the contestants started to spread around, only a few drunkards staying behind, Hogog among them. Kaye was having her second cup of what she thought of as mead even if they didn’t call it that. She wasn’t good with alcohol, had only ever had it a few times, but did enjoy it.

  Despite her other feelings, this would be the last rite of passage she would attend. At least it should be a good memory, one she could long for after leaving them all behind to chase her own happiness.

  But for now, she raised her drinking horn to ask for more.