The Accused

The familiar path from the village to the top of the hill is wide, and worn smooth by years of footsteps, warm beneath the soles of Jago’s feet as he breathed through his raw throat. A few steps behind him, the small group of villagers who had come to escort him to the Seven Sisters glance at him fearfully from beneath their eye lashes. Squinting against the bright morning sunlight, Jago climbs.

Leaves dance in the gusting wind, pulling Jago forward. The cool fingers of the morning breeze tingle across his skin, as the word “prophecy” swirls from his escorts’ lips. One steady step follows another as he leads the small group of awkward Providers and Caregivers whispering behind him. Rolling his shoulders, Jago straightens his spine and hangs his head, eyes fixed on his feet.

The ground rises to meet his measured steps. Rex’s dried blood stains his hands, clenched into fists at his side. Jenna’s wail still rattles through his bones as the curving path gives way to the open field. Flashes of Lana sobbing over Rex’s dead body sear his soul.

Sun bounces off the dirt and blinds Jagos’s first glimpse of the council in the morning light. High above the valley, a view of the waterfall dropping from the desert into Smok and Sola’s motionless pool emerges.

Like the night before, the Seven Sisters sit in their seats, their familiar faces bare in the new day. A carved wood bench sits between Sunda, The Wanderer and Eira, The Mother. Makos sits directly across from the empty bench, the old man’s tired shoulders slump as he leans an elbow on one knee and the wind spirals into tiny dirt tornados at the elder’s feet.

Jago feels The Storyteller’s gaze on him and avoids Sister One’s gaze as he settles into the wooden seat. The villagers who escorted him drop back into the shadows.

The ground calms as Kara, The Weaver, declares. “This court comes to order. As Sister Six, it is my solemn duty to bind the threads that tell the story.” She holds a thin bone in her hand and reaches for a red strand from a spool at her feet and makes the first loop as she studies Jago’s lowered head and determined spine.

Jago ignores her empathetic gaze, revolted by the gentleness in the older woman’s voice. Clenching his jaw, Jago remains perfectly still as the wind pools around the firepit, settling at Makos’s leathered feet. The crashing waves settle and slide back into the River of Stories below. The vibrating ground slows to a seething stillness as the flames dip close to the glowing coals.

Makos lifts his tired voice so the wind can carry his words, “Jago the Provider, you stand accused of murdering Rex the Provider. How do you plead?”

Jago raises his chin, his gold gaze on the fire before looking directly into Makos’s dark eyes. The words pour past his lips, his voice determined and clear, “Guilty. I deserve to die.”

The valley responds before the Seven Sisters, a sudden shift of wind teases the fire into a tower of orange glowing sparks. The River of Stories swells and crashes against the side of the cliff, resuming its climb up the hilltop. Heavy rain clouds roll across the horizon, blocking the burning sun. From the ground, “When the forest wails, the first story will fail,” bubbles to the surface, settling at Makos’s feet.

Jago glances around the circle at each of the Sisters, settling on the red chain flowing from Kara’s lap, then back to Makos. The Storyteller stares at Luma, terror bare on his face, as he watches Luma stare at Jago with curiosity. Breathing deeply, Jago digs dried blood from under his fingertips as he watches the other Sisters glance toward Makos.

Nadu, The Warrior, shifts her attention from Makos to Jago, her eyes narrowing, her question abrupt. “When did the conflict begin?”

Makos leans back in his chair, triggering Jago to lean forward, forearms on his knees, hands clasped. The question swirls slowly around the firepit, a chilled breath that slinks through the circle, as Jago stares at the fire. His red eyes fill with tears that make bloody streaks down his cheeks. “Last night, before the ceremony.”

Jago continues, his voice oddly calm. “Lana and I were in the woods. We had a fight; it’s all my fault. I was so mad, I didn’t mean to start a fight. I just wanted her to choose us. I killed them.” Staring directly at Nadu, Jago straightens his spine and raises his chin, watching her questioning gaze flit to Terran, then to Makos.

The hilltop shudders, the vibrations from the core of the earth returning. Jago watches Sister Two lean down and scoop up a handful of dirt and study it in his flat palm. Terran drops the dirt back to the ground and demands, “When did conflict with Rex the Provider begin?”

A wet sob bubbles from Jago’s chest as an image of Rex busting into the clear rips through his brain. “Last night, this morning, I don’t know.”

Inhaling calming breaths, Jago regains his calm and starts over, “After Lana and I fought, I looked everywhere for her. Trent found me and told me about…” Another sob tears through him before he gathers himself and continues, “...about the baby. It was all my fault, Lana told Rex about our fight… the miscarriage and he flew into a rage. I spent the night at the river hiding, like a coward. I am a monster and I ruined Lana’s life.” Jago drops his head once more, his sobs now escaping freely, the ground pulsing with his shudders.

Swaying branches circle the firepit, swirling around the fire, flames leaping. In the smoke a vision of Jago and Lana fighting in the woods sharpens into Jago’s angry face behind Lana, her face stained with tears, before fading into the morning sky once more.

The writhing River of Stories jumps up the cliffside, a spray of water droplets landing at Makos’s feet.

Makos stares in horror at Jago, then slides his gaze to the chain in Kara’s lap that has faded from red threads to pink. Terran and Nadu stare at Jago, confused. Sunda watches Eira’s eyes fill with tears that don’t fall. Luma stares up into the sky, the sun filling her face with a rosy glow, light tingling down her spine.

Sunda’s gentle voice breaks the silence, “What did you intend when you stabbed the victim?”

Jago felt the words enter his brain and from somewhere far away. A flash of Rex’s dead body fills Jago’s body as a hysterical laugh escapes his lungs. “What do you mean, intend? I thought…I don’t know. Lana, the baby, we haven’t even talked about it yet. And he just came from nowhere.” Another hysterical laugh escaped, “He just came from nowhere, yelling…I didn’t think. I should have let him kill me.”

The Seven Sisters glance away from Jago’s sobbing body, as he held his head in his hands and slows his gasps. Kara pauses and cuts the pink thread and ties the loose end to a blue string and waits to continue weaving the chain.

Terran wiggles his feet in the dirt and looked at Makos. The Storyteller slumps, the prophecy settling around his shoulders and throat, prompting Terran’s next question to come out gentler than he had intended, “Are you aware of what you have set off across the valley?”

Jago drags his scratchy gaze to The Witche’s earnest face. “I have brought only grief to the only people who I love the most in this world. I have dimmed the valley’s light.”

A frustrated sigh erupts from Makos. Nadu pounces, “Why did you incite the prophecy?”

Jago opens his mouth, but before he can speak Sunda jumps to her feet, “Objection! We don’t know that!”

Wind whips through the coals, the flames jump and dance. Waves hurtle against the cliff side.

Nadu turns to Makos, furious, “We have a right to know!”

Makos holds his wrinkled hands flat, palms toward the ground. Muttering under his breath, the valley calms once more. “Kara, unravel the thread. The court may proceed.”

Jago felt the fingers of uncertainty climb up his spine as they all waited for Nadu to formulate her next question. The numb grief inside his body began to thaw and he felt the prophecy creep from the underbrush and fill the space between them.

“When the forest wails, the first story will fail.”

Luma glances at Makos and then at the waterfall glistening in the distance. The wind whistles through the valley, fluttering leaves and bending branches, the sun shining even brighter as it climbs in the sky, before staring directly into Jagos’s eyes. “Did you murder Rex to keep your role in the Protectors a secret?”

Jago shudders, “No!” Looking from face to face, each one peering at him intently, “Why would I do that? Rex is our leader.”

The valley halted at his words, the water stilled, the wind dropped to the silent ground, and the flames dipped beneath the coals. Makos’s face filled with fear and confusion, as he slumped further into his worn wooden seat. A dark cloud smears across the sun, shadows smothering the valley floor. Terran scoops a handful of dirt up and studies the motionless earth.

Nadu recovers first and accuses, “You were jealous, you murdered him to incite the prophecy so you could be the leader of the Protectors, didn’t you!”

“Objection, Storyteller!” Sunda jumps up.

The River of Stories resumes its tireless crash against the cliff wall as it leaps for the hilltop in glistening droplets. The fire leaps in Jago’s defense.

“What? No, I love Rex, he raised me after our parents died! I owe him my life” Jago cries.

The wind claws along the grass and the sisters’ feet, as flashes of a boat filled with Provider’s sinking beneath writhing waves rise between them, before dissolving into the sky.

Makos responds with an automatic whisper, “Sustained. Kara, unwind the string.”

Jago drops his head into his hands as sobs rack his body, the dirt under his feet vibrating once more. A low roar fills his head; the memory of Rex’s warm body against his hand, the knife sliding into Rex’s body, stains his brain.

Eira stares at Makos who is shrinking smaller into his chair, and then at Sunda. “Sister Four, you were right to remind us that we had determined the end before we ever heard the story.”

Kara winds a deep green thread into the story chain in her lap, her bone needles clicking as she loops the dyed yarn.

Jago calms his jagged breath and stills his tears, meeting Eira’s gaze as she twists towards him, her hand reaching for his shoulder, and continues, “I have only one question, why did you think Rex wanted to kill you?”

Swallowing a wave of panic, Jago stares back at Sister Five, “After our parents died, Rex and Jenna raised us. Our parents were all in the same hunting group and Rex and Jenna are the oldest, so even before the accident, they were more like parents than our own parents ever were, to me, Trent, and Mason. And Lana, of course. She is more like a daughter than a sister to Rex.”

The suppressed sob shudders through Jagos’ body, and up Eira’s arm. “I deserve to be punished for what I did to Lana and betraying Rex after everything he has done for me. I should have let him kill me.”

Eira stands silently behind him, looking at each of the other Sisters. Luma stares back at Eira and at Jago’s shattered soul, then up to the sky as the clouds pass and the sunlight returns, exposing the valley once more.

Makos rubs a wrinkled hand over his face and tries to silence the words pounding in his ears, “The first story will fail.”

The Sisters stare uncomfortably at Makos, waiting for him to end the court proceedings. Unheard stories escape from the river snaking through the valley floor. Long suppressed tales swirl into a roar as they rise to the top of the hill.

Eira calms the circle once more, “Thank you, Jago, there are no more questions. The court calls Lana to the circle.”

Makos remains motionless, giving no indication her words reached him, despite the growing glow emanating from Luma’ skin, basking the hilltop in a golden glow.

Kara brings the thread to her teeth and severs the green thread, before tying the end of the chain of Jago’s testimony into a careful knot.

Eira soothes Jago’s as he stands, “For everyone’s safety, I will escort you back to your hut until the court has reached its decision.”

The vibrating ground hums under Jago’s feet as the Sisters watch Eira lead Jago down the hill, his shattered soul clinging to the older woman’s comfort.