Prelude

I think I’m drowning. I can’t be sure. I definitely feel the air in my lungs start to drain. Had it not been for the fear threatening to burst out of my heart, the deafening silence would have usually allowed me a much needed break to think about all that transpired in a short amount of time. The golden rays of the sun permeating through the eerie green hue gives the water a strange other worldly gleam. I feel the full weight of the lake on me as I sink lower from the surface, and yet I don’t feel the suffocation that is said to come with drowning. It is, perhaps, this strange calm that allows me to reflect back.

The elders had a saying that they would always say every chance they got. It went: “You must know you’re past, to know where you’re going”. I never fully grasped the full weight of those words until this precise moment, when the possibility of death seems more certain than ever. So, let me start my tale from the beginning. In doing so, I want you to keep an open mind. It seems the descriptions of good and bad are not always black and white. Our species has proven that we are capable of fantastic feats as well as terrible atrocities when the moment calls for it.

Our land was called ‘Girar’. It was beautiful. The land was an endless expanse of green pastures that sustained us with whatever we need. We were all blessed with so much that there was no need of being envious of each other. We got what we asked for.

Our world and everything in it was created by five goddesses: Goddess of Fertility, Goddess of War, Goddess of Unity, Goddess of Harmony and Goddess of Union. It was said that for the first hundred years or so, our society prospered. We respected and followed the rules of the goddesses, but eventually greed and hatred spawned upon the masses. We started to fight among ourselves. The minor disputes turned into ugly wars that cost us gravely.

The Goddesses were disappointed at this and decided that we did not deserve the liberties bestowed upon us. Thus, the end seemed near. However, the Goddess of Fertility saw that there was also so much good in us that if properly nurtured, could manifest into something beautiful. She devised a plan and convinced the other goddesses to join her. She created a smaller protected enclosure within Girar. The new land would have stricter laws for its citizens. It was to be named Overa. Together, the goddesses handpicked a handful of settlers and relocated them. Each was responsible for a specific task, they all contributed. Overa would be like a finely calibrated machine, relying on the perfect synchronicity of its parts. No role was greater than the rest. High Priestesses would act as a voice of the goddesses to the society, while every goddess would have temples and disciples who would ensure the balance. The most sought after role was that of the Holy Gatherer. Every harvest season, these brave warriors would leave the safety of Overa and venture into the old land. They would then seek the sacred trees of the goddesses and look in the bark. The goddesses would often bless us with new off springs to join our clan. The Holy Gatherers would take the off springs back to Overa to be raised as sisters by the other mothers.

Meanwhile, with the attention of the goddesses solely on Overa, Girar started to wilt. Nature took her course and the lush green pastures turned into wild wasteland. The creatures turned among themselves in a desperate bid to survive. The strong hunted the prey. There was no more room for weakness anymore.

I was among the few who were raised to be a Holy Gatherer. It felt like it was meant to be. Without new members, our community would be doomed to fail. It was an honor to join the brave souls who venture out in the hopes of ensuring our survival.