On the Felixes of Lumaria

The creature slowly opened his eyes as the tribe-mother gave him water, but he drank too fast and coughed out most of it. Then, he gazed around the room in a feverish daze, taking in his surroundings, far calmer than it had any right to be. Finally, he sobered enough to realize what he was surrounded by and freaked, fumbling his legs in a desperate attempt to stand.

The tribe-mother moved to pin him down again, but to everyone’s surprise, the creature reached into his leg-coverings as if searching for something. His hand emerged holding a tiny, but sharp, blade.

The tribe-mother hesitated for a blink and in that moment the creature threw himself to the side, mounting a feeble resistance in the corner of the room, pointing the shiny stick at any and all who dared spare him a glance while barking what could only be threats with his mouth.

“Can’t you do anything right?” Nya yelled at the tribe-mother as she rushed to Thrawn’s mat on the opposite side of the room.

“He- I just didn’t want to hurt him!” The tribe mother protested.

Myrrha believed it. Even the tribe mother was more than a match for the monkey-man, armed or otherwise. Besides, they needed him alive after all, she was right to err to the side of caution. Still, she could not let it go, it would be the weak thing to do. Failure was weakness, and the tribe-mother had failed. Letting it go could give the wrong impression to the cadre. Don’t be weak, can’t be weak. Myrrha’s mind echoed the mantra, forcing a scowl. “Did you not search him?”

“I- I did not know how his- his… I don’t know, leg coverings? Yes, I didn’t know how they worked, I kept pulling but they didn’t come off and-” she kept on stammering.

Myrrha considered hitting the tribe-mother in a quick show of dominance, but Satha interjected just in time “You want him in that mat I will get him there. It’s not an issue.”

Myrrha took the way out Satha offered, “Maybe in pieces, we need him alive.”

“For what? You see how it yaps like an animal; it has nothing to say!”

Just then, the man contradicted her by pointing his small blade in her direction, guessing they were talking about him. Satha’s tail twitched “Oh, you want to fight little guy?” She took a step forward.

“Stand down…” Myrrha waved her off, her eyes surveying the creature from top to bottom.

He was indeed small, and frail. His features were so smooth they seemed delicate: his unblemished skin showed no signs of weariness from the rigors of the sun. His small eyes squinted, constantly trying to focus. What was inside them, however, intrigued her: his pupils were round. Of course, when it was dark her people did the same, to the point they swallowed their eyes in pitch-black darkness, but for all intents and purposes, his should be slit right now.

But despite his apparent weakness, there was a purpose to his stance, training on his grip, and technique on how to sing it. His movements were clumsy, lacking confidence, but she could tell he knew exactly what the blade was and how to use it. He had the answers, she was sure of it.

“Go pick the blade.” She turned to Jura, who left without question. Age did wonders to subdue one’s temper, or maybe she was just tired; a lifetime of fighting did that to people. Either way, Jura was always quick to obey, which Myrrha was more than partial to.

“You want to give him a bigger blade?” Nya snapped back as the older huntress passed her.

“I am pretty sure it belongs to him,” Myrrha said, her eyes still fixed on the man in the corner of the room as he kept barking his monkeyish tongue. She was not afraid, though, despite his bravado, his legs shook, and he reeked of fear, he knew the hopelessness of his situation, that much was clear, which calmed her. And yet, instead of surrendering the way prey always did, he stood.

Felix showed bravery only when it suited them. Survival was all, and there was no honor in foolishness - just as she tried explaining to Satha. But Myrrha begrudgingly admired it, even if quietly.

Jura returned just in time. The second the blade was in the room, the man winced, his eyes fixed upon it instead of his captors, which told her everything she needed to know about how important it was to him. “Is this yours?” She muttered under her breath.

The cadre confused her remark as understanding, and immediately questions erupted around her. “You understand what it’s saying?” “What is it? Did he tell you where he came from?” “Is it really a monkey?”

“Oh, by the moon and stars… give me time!” Myrrha growled back at them, peeling out some silence from her spectating cadre. She sighed, calming herself before turning to the man. She extended the blade non-threateningly, allowing him to get a better look at it.

He recoiled at first, afraid of it as perhaps he should, but then calmed himself as her intent to communicate became clearer. Still, he kept his knife pointed at her as she approached, which Myrrha didn’t mind; he would need something far more powerful than that to get the better of her.

She pointed to the blade and then to him. The man swallowed, looked at her, and then at the other huntresses, thought about it, then nodded.

“It is his!” Myrrha felt her tail perking up

Nya fumed, crossing her arms, standing tall “Great, he understands, now tell him he owes me blood.”

“Thrawn lives,” Kiri said flatly from behind.

“Fine! Then he owes me a scar! Tell him that! Better yet, let me show it to him!” She stepped forward.

“You will do no such thing.” A meek voice emanated from behind. It was the matriarch, barely on two feet and a cane.

The tribe-mother rushed to aid her, but the matriarch shoved her away. ‘I can stand on my own, fool!’ she dismissed her, trying her best to mask her weakness.

Myrrha ignored every instinct within her and turned her back on the man “Matriarch, I brought this creature-”

“I can see what you did well enough, daughter of Nienna. Now, as to why he stands armed in one of our few places of peace is another matter.”

“It is under control.”

The matriarch opened her mouth but fell prey to a coughing fit that swept her off her feet. No aid came from the tribe-mother though, and she was felled on the ground, having to recompose herself from scratch by sheer force of will.

This is bad, Myrrha thought, the poison had really taken a toll this time. She did not give the matriarch more than a few more seasons before passing.

She was still the matriarch though, silencing the room with her gaze and scanning the room, displeased by the sheer number of faces she saw “Myrrha stays, the rest leaves.”

“Matriarch, my son is here, I won’t leave him alone while that… thing stands armed in his presence!” She pointed, claws popped in his direction, to which the man recoiled.

“You are a huntress of your tribe.” The matriarch simply put.

Nya threatened to snap back, but bit her lip, reciting with her head low “And I will do as I am told.” And leaving.

Myrrha patted her on the shoulder as she went, a silent guarantee of protection in her eyes before she left with the rest following. Now, it was just them and creature, man, or whatever he was to be upon the matriarch’s judgment.

The man for his part seemed very much confused at the sudden change, reigniting his fear. Still, he made no attempts besides barking more.

The Matriarch took a good look at him, then broke the silence “Who else knows about him?”.

“Everyone.”

She sighed. “Well, I suppose a tribe has no secrets. What have you learned from it?”

“Only that the blade belongs to him… as you foretold.”

“I did?”

Myrrha recoiled at that “Yes! You told me to return the blade!” She almost fumbled her words, something she hadn't done since she was a kitten. She had so many questions, and the one supposed to hold all the answers seemed just as oblivious as her. You called me ‘great mother’.

The matriarch nodded, understanding her confusion, "You must understand, child, that visions fade once I awake. It is the great frustration of all matriarchs: what belongs to the heavens remains with the heavens, including knowledge. We can only impart it when we are on the edge between the two worlds, and then fades, almost like a dream."

She tried to hide her disappointment “Then what are we to do?”

“You tell me, daughter of Nienna. You brought him here.”

Stop calling me that, she thought, but shoved the feeling aside, quick to defend herself, “Under the goddesses’ command!”

“The way you saw it.” The Matriarch shrugged “Instead of returning the blade you brought its master here. It is not how I would interpret the goddess’s will, that is for sure.”

“What?!” Myrrha snapped, but stopped herself, opting to tread carefully “Matriarch… I stand by my decision. This man is the only link to these strange shiny blades and that wooden monstrosity you called a ship! Who knows what other dangers lay there? He may hold the answers to all of that, that is why I could not have left him: the dead don’t talk.”

The Matriarch sighed “For what it’s worth, I agree with you. The man, or rather, what he knows, may be important. However, I passed by Tara and the others, they were restless, to say the least; you put me in a delicate position. Our people are quick to worry Myrrha, he came from the sea; you know what dwells in its depths.”

“You need not remind me…” She murmured, and indeed, she did not. She heard the tales since birth: the horror stories of old. The squishers had not been sighed in millennia and yet, there was a reason they never swam beyond the reef.

“Then you understand my view: that he should be put down. His presence is a risk we cannot afford!”

Her heart skipped a beat “No! I mean- I am returning the blade, as commanded. True, maybe not to the ship, but to its owner. The blade is his! Don’t you see? This is the goddesses’ will. It is destiny!”

“If you return the blade, he seems likely to use it against us.”

“He won’t, not with me around, this I swear.” She gazed down at the man still in the corner – a clear message to behave. “Let me have a try at taming him and I will make him sing his secrets. Your vision… I think the precipice you saw is connected to him.”

“I saw horror…”

“Not just horror! You said we are between life and damnation. Are you really willing to risk the former by putting him down?”

“He could just as well be the cause of it.” She said sternly, but Myrrha could tell she was getting to her. It was clear the matriarch did not understand the visions, who did, after all? But the coincidences, the blood moon… this was it. This was something.

Myrrha took a deep breath, then continued “All I know is death is permanent, life is not. We can go back on granting him life, but not death. Give me this chance, I have a feeling about this…”

The Matriarch was silent, then finally spoke “Very well, but he is your responsibility. You will take his weight as your own. If he steps out of line, it shall be on you to make amends. Are we understood?”

Myrrha clicked her tongue, this was not ideal, but it was necessary. “Very well.”

“For my part, I will declare he is not to be harmed, but that holds bar only for our people, and the jungle takes the weak.”

“Believe me, matriarch, strength is the one thing I have enough to spare.”

The matriarch seemed unamused but nodded, nonetheless. “I believe you, daughter of Nienna. I trust you, much like I did your mother before you.”

That hit her hard. They all kept assuming she was better than her mother. That she was stronger, greater. Would they still think of her the same way if they knew the truth?

But all that stayed bottled down inside as Myrrha nodded, looking at the frightened man again, then turned back to her “I will not fail you, Matriarch.