Curled Leaves
Author's note: the Nimata, and thus the Lessai, do not observe binary genders. The characters are both referred to with the neutral pronoun "they/them."The forest floor creaked and groaned as heavy, panicked footfalls met uneven ground. Panting, terrified, a pair of lessai frantically sprinted and weaved between the trees. Twigs and logs hidden in the underbrush splintered beneath their feet, met with gasps of fear for one another at each potential misstep. “Avinu kier’la chiers, trestik!” The shorter of the two lessai cried out to the other, blinking back tears as the shouting behind the pair grew louder. The other took the hand of their distraught sibling and urged them forward. Slowing down, they knew, would be the death of them both. “Relaya, post testayu chier’la?” Mere moments ago, the lessai siblings were at peace, playing, laughing together in the forest they called home. They stumbled upon a scene they should not have, poachers tearing the land apart to sate their greed, and were now finding that there is a price to pay for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Ash, ash, Naiat…” Relaya hushed their younger sibling, in spite of the tears forming in their own eyes. They both were young; the siblings were just shy of adulthood by Nimata standards and were wholly unprepared for the situation they had fallen into. With a deep breath, Relaya offered what they thought might help calm their crying younger sibling. “Shier, shefush mider ika tanketerka…” You, the curled leaves upon the trees… As the words left their lips, Relaya felt a wave of calm, remembering the voice of their mother reciting the ancient poem to them, in days of peace. Naiat felt the same calm, the flow of tears on their young face slowing. All around the two of them, curled leaves did grow. Feeling brave, Naiat’s trembling voice, shaking from both fear and exhaustion, continued where Relaya had left off. “Festu chier’la mider shieri; festu chier’la li shier…” We see your wings; we see you there… The lessai people, naturally, knew a great deal about the Hearthwood, the great forest they call home. Poems, myths, and common tales tell stories of the guardians of the wild, who protect the forest’s inhabitants. Look for the curled leaves of the forest, the elders would say. It is there that they hide. Relaya’s calm faded to a heavy dread as the voices of the poachers grew louder still. They were at their heels. Despite knowing the forests intimately, the clumsiness of youth lingered in the siblings and the limitations of their strength made pushing through the dense forest more challenging for them than for the larger, more experienced forest poachers following their trail. “Tronu chier’la adzal shieri! Voku chier’la chanet shieri!” We feel your light! We know your heart! As though swapping roles, Relaya was now the one with tears flooding their eyes and wetting their face. They came to the realization that there was no outrunning the poachers. There was no way out; they had strayed too far from home, and now Relaya blamed themselves for the deaths that were to come, for the both of them. What would their families think? Would they even know? “Relaya!” Luck seemed to turn on the pair. Naiat shrieked in horror as their sibling was sent floundering to the ground, having caught themselves on a swinging vine they could not see. There was no time to recover the breath knocked from their lungs. Naiat skidded to a stop, scrambling to help their sibling to their feet. “Triu chier’la eta shierta!” We are your children! Naiat continued the poem, eyes widening in shock as attempting to lift Relaya from the ground only caused the two of them to fall back to the forest floor together as both siblings felt their legs give out from underneath them. The two of them could do little else besides gaze tearfully into one another’s eyes as they waited for the end to come. “Tyai…” Please… Naiat stumbled on the final line of the poem, stuttering and panicking as their pursuers finally entered clear line of sight. Any hope to stand and run was lost; they would be upon them in seconds. Even still, Naiat tried desperately to complete the poem. It was tradition; it was a part of them. Relaya took the hands of their sibling and shut their eyes tightly to blink away the tears. “Tyai dyamu shier’la eta chiersta chanet shieri!” Please show your heart to us! As the desperate plea of the final line of the poem rang out from Relaya’s lips, silence fell on the forest. It was a deep quiet, serene. They never thought tranquility could be simultaneously welcome and so incredibly jarring. Relaya remained still, eyes shut, not wanting to face what was waiting to be seen. Certainly, it must be their end, painstakingly drawn out as a cruel trick by fate. They sat this way for a moment, continuing to brace themselves for what was coming. Soft laughter coming from Naiat pulled Relaya from their anticipation-fueled trance. Naiat's laughter spelled hope for them. Narrow ribbons of light flitted past as Relaya opened their eyes, and they could see Naiat smiling through tears as their pursuers, a mere several feet away, were immobilized, shrouded in cloaks of curled leaves and ribbons of light. “Relaya—” “Midshefusher…” A chill ran down Relaya’s spine as they found themselves in the presence of faespinners, the guardians of the Hearthwild. They emerged in the hundreds from the surrounding wood, coating every surface in curled leaves that glowed softly against the dark forest. “Lonaichu shier’la chiers ot lonaichu chier’la shier!” You honor us and we honor you. Relaya and Naiat, in unison, voiced their respect and thanks to the creatures that had saved them, in the traditional way; never did they think that they would come to use it outside of the rituals held in their own homes. Regaining their bearings and recovering from the shock of what had happened and what had very nearly transpired, the scared siblings helped one another off the ground before taking off in the direction of home, not looking back for a moment. As they drew farther and farther away, the soft glow of the faespinners faded along with the illusions they had cast. Gone were the curled leaf cloaks and trappings of light, revealing skeletons, picked clean to the very bone by hundreds of eager mouths. It was a courtesy of the faespinners to spare the young lessai the gruesome sight. They were happy to help.
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