Child of the Night

                  Standing in the night breeze, my dress fluttering in the soft wind as it’s soft fingers caress my face, I remember my first night wandering this forest. I had been lead there by the track beneath my feet, only wearing a blindfold, my newly painted on marks, and the leather strap holding various knives. The villagers decided I was to be their new prize to keep the dark demon at bay, called Kirivoth. After eating the meat of the sacrificed boar, my whole body was painted in the swirling designs of my tribe made of a combination of the boar’s blood and certain dyes and pastes. On my forehead was placed the symbol of guidance and a martyr, the slicing signs of protections crossed down both my eyes, and the gift of the night across the bridge of my nose. My lip newly pierced, to show the pain I was to endure for my people; they blindfolded me and draped the ceremonial knives down my shoulder, which they would collect when they found my corpse.

                For a brief moment I could imagine what my village looked like through this blindfold; the moonlight shining softly on the roofs of the huts, the breeze making the leaves swirl and dance on the limbs of the trees like old women weaving baskets. I could almost hear the soft snores and breathing of the children sound asleep in their bedding. The smell of the small fresh stream that used to be a river this village was built around.

 Suddenly I was pushed down the path, although not traveled much, there was a distinct line between the undergrowth and this soft rich dirt. I walked through the forest, my skin alive to every touch and my ears taking in every sound. I kept on my way because if I ever wondered off my feet would get bitten by sharp thorns. While I was wondering what it would feel like sacrificing my virgin flesh to this demon, I heard a crack behind my right side. Suddenly I heard and felt a whoosh of air over me as I instinctively ducked to the left. I thumbled and drew one of the knives and turned to my attacker. Another crack of a branch almost in front of me and I held out my only protection against this large predator, I didn’t hear anything just felt sharp razors biting in my hamstring. I fell down my tendon now cut as I grabbed another knife for my left hand. I stayed silent on one knee and felt warm fur cross my knee, it lunged for my throat and I struck out blindly repeatedly. Teeth caught my shoulder and searing pain rippled through me, shaking my brain inside my head, as I kept hitting hard spots, then one of my knives sunk in. I heard a animalistic groan and kept stabbing. Soon I was just stabbing a corpse and I let myself fall backwards, breathing hard and bleeding profusely.

I slipped off my blindfold, and as my eyes adjusted I started ripping apart the cloth to bind my wounds. I looked at my attacker; Kirivoth was a huge black male jaguar, bigger than any of the cats brought back by village men, its fangs almost twice the size of ones boasted on the necklaces of old wise men. I wrapped the cloth tightly around my wounds, knowing if I didn’t get help soon I could easily bleed to death. I wondered about going back to my village, but they would never believe my story, or that this jaguar was the demon, and just send me back out to die. I was suddenly filled with anger, I had the will to live, I killed what was terrorizing my village, and I should be a savior. Instead, no woman could take credit for this, and there was no man to take credit for it here.

I calmed myself down, trying to keep my heartbeat as slow as possible, and remembered the lessons I learned from the healer when I spent the summer months there some years ago. I was getting dizzy, my mind fogging up; I could barely remember my name. I decided to at least start walking, to get rid of the anxious feeling building up in my chest speeding up my heartbeat, and I grabbed the nearest branch as a walking stick. I stumbled through the path, remembering to hold the wound high so blood wouldn’t pump to it, my leg couldn’t be helped but I got a stick and stuck it through the bandage on my arm and down my side. The sharp end dug into my ribs, but at least the pain kept me awake. I remembered a few herbs that would help prevent infections and stem bleeding, but I didn’t know where to find them, and if they would even help for a case like this. I decided my best chance of surviving was to wander around and hope I could find someone, who knew enough to save me. I don’t know how long I had walked, the night was still pitch black, and I couldn’t find the moon through the thick tops of the trees. I was so close to the brink of unconsciousness I didn’t realize the light was a campfire, until I was close enough to feel the heat, and then everything was black, blacker than the night.

                When I awoke I could tell it was dark outside, I panicked, disorientated, and sat up, gasping and temporarily passing out because of the pain. I remember some of the events of the night before, wishing now that I was alive that I had taken the hide or fangs of that massive cat and sighed. I tested out my right arm and found through the excruciating pain I could still move it, although I had no success with my left leg, finding it was useless. Suddenly, I was aware of a presence. I looked behind me as well as I could manage and found a man warily looking at me from under his brow. He spoke in a few languages until I finally recognized a greeting in mine. I nodded and instead just stared at him, obviously being the one who had wrapped these herbs and bandages around me, saving my life. I wondered how much of a scare I had given him, wandering into his camp bleeding from bite wounds, my right arm protruding oddly from my body on a stick, covered in swirling patterns, naked except for various knives. He must think I am one of those odd warrior women near our village, who cut off their right breast to better use their bows, and use men as lowly people and slaves. He held out a dish made of wood with stretched hide covering it filled with crystal clear water to me and a similarly made dish with fruits and berries on it.  Also on the fire was a one of the wild birds roasting on a spit. I smiled at him, it seems he meant to take care of me.

                After a few weeks staying with this man, we hardly speak but it seems easier just to gesture with him. After trying to bath I found out my markings are permanent, it seems I will always be the child of kirivoth’s even after slaying him. I am improving swiftly and I can’t help but wonder where I shall go after this. With the man it’s comfortable, but I am of no use. He lives and works himself and has time to rest and relax every day, all I would do is eat his supplies and take more time of his. I do have enough knowledge to live on my own, but I know that if I am injured severely again I will die. I also don’t have any tools or supplies, and only the knives for protection and cutting. It seems I’ll have to start again, like a new babe; I’ll be with nothing and make a new life.

                Today I woke quite similar to that other day, disorientated and confused. The fire was sputtering out next to me and by my feet laid a small thing of water and food, also several tools and a linen tunic and breeches. I looked around and the man was gone, and so were all the rest of his supplies. His farewell gifts were the tools to my survival. How much I owed that man, the man whole saved me from nothingness.

                Now I look around, this night almost a duplicate of the one so long ago, and I stare once again at the eyes of that man. His eyes though instead of being filled with apprehension and confusion, now only knew love and care. His hands that had wrapped my wounds now caressed my face and markings. This man who gave me life, and took my heart into his, I smile even now as he takes my life rightfully so, as it is his for he gave it. His hands now caress my throat, and he slides my ceremonial knife across my neck. I am always the child of the night, and I now know he is the Kirivoth my people spoke of. Sharp pain and tingles go through my neck and I can feel the blood welling on my neck. Although it took so long, I finally let my body be sacrificed to this demon, like I suppose to many years ago. I feel his feathery light kiss upon my cheek, right on the protection mark, and then everything was black, blacker than the night.