by Lisa Mangum
Agé examined the terrain, then groaned. “Please don’t tell me you intend on hunting it.”
“Only with your blessing, of course,” the huntress was quick to say.
“Did you bring diamonds in case it needs to be bargained with? The Grootslang’s cruelty can only be quenched by jewelry.”
“You know candidates can’t bring anything during the trial, otherwise I would’ve brought my spear.” Oseye spread her arms wide. “See? No shoes. No water. Not even a machete. Just as instructed.”
“Was your common sense left behind, as well?”
Oseye punched him in the arm. “Fon Agé, surviving the wilderness alone will not be enough for me to pass the trials. Everyone back home thinks I have it easy since one of the great Fons is always at my side to help me directly. I have to risk it—no options, no bargains.”
Agé placed his hands on his hips, a stern grimace etched over his face. “Oseye—”
“Don’t look so worried, silly. With you here, I’m certain we’ll manage, and then everyone will know I am truly worthy of becoming a Mino.”
Agé shook his head and chuckled. “You know I’ll never be one to say you’re incapable of anything, Oseye.”
“Great! Then let’s go!”
The Fon grabbed the huntress by the hand before she hurried off. “But first, we need to talk.”
In all her years, Oseye had never heard Agé sound so serious. Something was wrong, or at least something was about to be wrong. Given the sternness in his eyes, Agé was about to give her the most dreaded news imaginable.
She released the Fon’s hand, backing away from him as if he was plagued by an illness. “You’re not going to help me.”
When Agé didn’t deny it, Oseye’s stomach twisted and churned. Her skin turned cold as ice, and her heartbeat raced. She had always drawn comfort in knowing Agé would protect her. He had to. He was the deity of hunters. It was his responsibility. She was his responsibility!
“Little Oseye, let me explain—”
“You can’t leave me, Agé! Not now. Am I being punished? What wrong have I caused you?”
“No, dear child,” Agé said, cupping Oseye’s face. “Throughout your young life, never have you done me wrong. You are the purest of souls. Such is why you can see me in the flesh.”
Oseye shut her eyes as tears ran down her face. “Then why are you abandoning me? I need you.”
“And that’s exactly why I can’t do this task with you. I’ve spoken to my kin, and we all agree that my favoring you has diminished your potential. Oseye, you must learn to manage on your own just as any other would, even more since you want to become a defender of your state.”
He sat on the grass, bringing Oseye down with him. “You and I have had a unique bond. Because you can see me, I’ve been able to train you, travel with you, make you the hunter any soul would dream of being. You’ve had quite the advantage your entire life because of it.”
Oseye wiped her eyes. “Advantage? Fon Agé, I’ve worked twice as hard to prove my worth to my people because everyone looks upon me with jealousy and disdain. And yet, I don’t care because I have you. Don’t you see? Without you, I have nothing. I am nothing.”
Agé shook his head. “You speak your own truth, yet you still don’t understand why I shouldn’t help you.” The Fon stood up. “I will still watch you from afar, and you will even hear my voice in the wind if your heart is willing. Beyond that, you’re on your own. If you truly want to prove you’re worthy of becoming a Mino to your people, then you’ll manage without me, just as everyone else does.”
Oseye grumbled as she curled her fingers into fists. “That does sound fair, but what about the Grootslang? I can’t fight it alone.”
“Then you best leave this place and stay clear of it. No one told you to fight the beast.”
The huntress stomped the ground, annoyed. She hated it when he was right. Then she took a deep breath, calming herself.
“If this is what it takes, Agé. The least I can do is try, as you’ve always taught me.”
The Fon winked at her. “Then be careful. I believe in you.”
A breeze from the west swooshed by, as it always did before Oseye and Agé parted ways. Leaves swept around the Fon, and he disappeared, leaving the huntress, alone. She backed away from the ledge, her spirit shaken.
“Agé?” she called out. “Are you there? You said I could hear you in the wind.”
No response. Apparently, his absence had already broken her heart beyond repair.
The huntress examined the riverbed again, which now appeared farther away with more treacherous terrain. Something bristled in the grass from behind, and she spun around. Any other day, she would’ve shrugged it off, accounting it for a small rodent. Today, however, it could’ve been a wild dog, a lion, maybe even a warthog. It was a dreadful summer day in the country of Dahomey. Maybe her becoming a Mino was a foolish dream, after all.
Then the huntress laughed at herself. “Enough. I can do this. They’re wrong.”
A sudden howl in the distance shook the ground like thunder, numbing Oseye’s thoughts. Flocks of birds in the trees below flew away as the game approaching the riverbank scattered. She narrowed her eyes as the Grootslang—a hundred meters away—strolled toward the water.
Seeing the beast in the flesh, Oseye realized the legends had gotten it wrong. The Grootslang’s head was shaped like an elephant—its trunk curled in so it wouldn’t drag across the ground, and two giant tusks arched toward its mouth—and its scaled tail was the size of a python. But the legends had neglected to mention its four strong legs and its body reminiscent of a wildebeest. Given its physique, it had to be as strong as it was fast. Chasing down a human would require little effort.
“Agé?” she heard her timid voice call out.
The Grootslang stopped, forcing Oseye to cover her mouth. Surely it couldn’t have heard her! The creature turned its large head from left to right, as if searching for what had interrupted its drink. The monster sniffed the air, then locked eyes on her.
“It’s okay,” she assured herself, backing away carefully. “At least he believes in me.”
The monster howled again, and Oseye scanned the ledge in search of something—anything—she could use to defend herself. Her options were limited.
Stories warned that people died within a minute of the Grootslang spotting them. The only way to survive an encounter was to lay all valuables at its feet, but since Oseye had nothing, she would have to use the environment to her advantage. Crawl into a cave. Go through the woods. Leap into the river and hope it would diminish the creature’s scent of human flesh. Since the waterfall was too high for a safe dive, the only option Oseye had was that stupid tree back on the hill she had climbed.
The Grootslang roared, giving away its position. It was now only fifty meters away. Impossible! No creature could be that fast.
Oseye ran for the hill, the wind cutting at her eyes. When she reached the tree. Instead of grabbing the nearest branch and climbing, however, she tugged with all her might trying to break it. She wouldn’t back down. Mino warriors were meant to fight. Conquer or die. That was their motto.
The branch refused to give way, despite her efforts. The monster snarled like a wild dog as it neared. Oseye gritted her teeth, pulling at the tree again. The branch gave a timid creak, but nothing more.
“Break, damn you!” she cried. “Please!”
The ground quaked with each stride the monster made toward Oseye. She was going to be ripped to pieces and eaten alive like an antelope. Death wouldn’t be instant, but slow, agonizing, and mortifying.
“Agé, help!”
The branch snapped off into her hands, and she spun around to swing with all her might. She was greeted with rows of teeth slicing into her right shoulder. The pain was so great that her screams were lost in gasps. The Grootslang lifted her body off the ground with its mouth, shaking her with such ferociousness, she thought her shoulder would dislocate.
/> She clawed at its nose with her free arm, and in return, the monster smacked her in the face with one of its paws, using its trunk to pin her down.
Though in a daze, Oseye saw splatters of red on the once-green grass—blood that had once belonged to her. But nothing was hers anymore. Since she had no jewels to exchange, the Grootslang would claim her life, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Stop,” she heard herself plead.
How cruel, to be killed so horribly on the first day. If any remains were left to be found, her family would not even have the peace of knowing she had put up a fight. They would forever conclude she had suffered dearly, too weak to defend herself, just as they had always told her. That she died because she was useless.
The huntress tried to squirm free, enraged at the thought. She still had so much to prove, and no creature—whether it be normal or mystical—would dare take that dream from her. She’d show the Grootslang. She’d show them all.
Oseye screamed at the top of her lungs and grabbed the nearby broken branch with her free arm. She rammed the jagged end into the monster’s face. The creature yipped like a hyena as it swatted her away. Seizing the opportunity, the huntress scurried off, holding her wounded right shoulder, knowing the monster would be quick to recover and punish her dearly.
She reached the waterfall’s ledge. If the Grootslang didn’t kill her, the impending drop would. On the other hand, the fall could kill the monster, as well. The creature rubbed its blinded eye before turning its attention back to her, and Oseye eased her heels to the ledge, smirking.
“Face me, monster!” the huntress demanded. “I’m right here.”
The Grootslang charged, and just when Oseye was about to dive away, it stopped and, without warning, smacked the huntress off the ledge with its tail and into the stream below.
Oseye awoke to the clamor of wildlife amid a dense and dark oasis. It was nighttime, the full moon offering little light beyond the few pokes it made through the lush leaves overhead. She must’ve been out for hours. How fortunate for her that the legend about the Grootslang losing a person’s scent in water was true. Regardless, she had more troubles to deal with beyond being eaten.
Oseye rubbed her left cheek, feeling around the edges of three deep gashes slashed across it as she trudged out of the stream. She examined her right arm, the water having numbed it along with the blood loss. Upon reaching the tiny shore, she curled into a ball. She sneezed; she’d catch pneumonia if she didn’t warm herself soon, her wounds hastening the process.
Her first day of the trial had seen her being mauled by a supernatural predator, tossed into a river, and her clothes drenched. Oseye rolled onto her back, swallowing the cry building in her chest. She had failed. Thinking she could fight the Grootslang was beyond foolish. Now it’d be on the hunt for what she had done to its eye, and she was in no shape to fend for herself once it found her. Perhaps she was better off hurrying back home to safety.
No. She’d rather die than prove the naysayers right. Oseye eyed the stream. Maybe it was deep enough. Maybe she should just end it all now.
“My poor Oseye. Look what it did to you.”
Agé towered over her, and she turned away, ashamed. She didn’t want to see him peering down like she was a pathetic specimen that would eventually die like any other mortal.
Instead, the Fon rolled Oseye onto her side, and she bit her lip as the movement pulled at her injuries. “That horrid thing. Your wounds run almost to the bone.”
He stood up to sniff the air, then chuckled. “And you made quite the friend in it, didn’t you? It’s a good ways from here since losing your scent, though it clearly hunts for you. You need to get up, quickly.”
The huntress, however, refused to budge. “I’m finished, Agé.”
“You most certainly will be if you don’t clean those wounds and dry yourself. You’ll die of fever.”
“Look at me, Fon Agé!” Oseye cried. “I’m left alone for a mere moment and look what happened. Who cares about a fever when I obviously can’t survive a single day in your absence, let alone nine?” She covered her face. “What the others think of me is true. I am useless.”
The Fon crossed his arms. “Don’t you ever speak such foolishness again. In all the ages, I’ve rarely seen a soul endure a physical encounter with that monster. And yet here you are, not only surviving an attack but wounding it in return. Trust me when I say that those who shed blood from the Grootslang don’t have much time to brag about their wounds.”
Oseye laid her head on the ground, still transfixed on the deep end of the stream. “Those poor lot were probably just smart enough to give in to their fate.”
“No, my Little Oseye,” Agé said. “Those poor lot were weak enough to give up on living. You, however, still have something to prove. And it’s not to your people. It’s not even to me.” He directed Oseye’s face to his, then pointed at her heart.
“So, is this what this is?” Oseye asked. “Surely the deities do not send monstrosities into our lives just to prove your points.”
Agé rubbed the young woman’s scratched cheek. “Never. We do not toss hardships on you out of mere amusement, though it’s not our place to stand in the way of them. It’s called life. It’s joy and pain. It’s laughter and tears. It’s just. And yes, it’s even cruel.” The Fon grabbed Oseye’s hand, squeezing it. “And that’s what makes it beautiful. Not ugly. Just beautiful.”
“I don’t see how that’s even possible.”
“Of course, you can’t,” Agé said, laughing. “Why, it’s a notion that even your elders struggle with. But that, Oseye, is the value in discovering such a truth.”
Oseye looked away from the stream and into her friend’s piercing eyes. “But that sounds impossible. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t even know if I can do this.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Agé helped the huntress sit up. “Treasure this brief failure you had today and grow from it. Sunrise brings a new day, meaning you’ll have another chance. Now, can you stand?”
Oseye examined the Fon’s extended hand. He was always quick to catch her when she fell. Hold her when she cried. Now he wanted to help her up, only to leave her upon doing so.
“Will you still not help me, just this once?” she begged.
Agé smiled. “No.”
She held his gaze, tears streaming down her face. “Then you can’t even promise I’ll survive this ordeal, can you?”
Her friend shook his head, hand still extended. “No. Are you scared?”
A sudden howl from afar silenced the entire jungle. The Grootslang had caught her scent again.
“Am I scared?” Oseye repeated. “More than you know.”
And then the huntress grabbed Agé by the hand.
“Dear Little Oseye, I knew I could always believe in you.” The Fon pulled her up, and with a gust of the west wind, he was gone.
The distant howl from the monster rang again, though Oseye no longer quivered at the rumble it made. Bruised and battered, she went deeper into the jungle, prepared to make what would be her final stand.
Oseye had traveled the entire night through the jungle, only stopping to tend to her wounds with whatever herbs she had found in the brushes. She was beyond exhausted, her injured body drained of energy. Even so, she pressed on, knowing her pursuer was nearby.
At noon, she took a brief rest and sharpened what had to be her tenth wooden spear. She had created a half-kilometer square perimeter around the oasis, learning the layout of the land so she could prepare evasive routes. Her plan was to attack the monster with her agility and a barrage of spears, hoping to tire out the beast. But she knew this creature of legend took pleasure in hunting down and toying with humans, and one that had caused it bodily harm would only entice its craving.
Had she not been injured, Oseye could’ve made more weapons, but she forced herself not to lose heart at her small stockpile of spears. She was hurt, but so was the monster. She had to believe in
herself just as much as Agé did, if not more.
Another flock of birds scattered in flight as a deep growl shook the ground once more. The creature was close. Oseye grabbed a spear and crawled into a narrow passage made of tree roots. From there, she spotted the Grootslang lurking ahead, sniffing the ground, following her scent.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “Come and get me.”
The creature paused and hissed as if hearing her words.
Oseye clutched her spear, the monster close enough for her to see its wounded eye.
Don’t panic, she told herself. Wait until it’s in range.
The Grootslang approached the opening Oseye had crawled through, and she pulled her feet closer to her body. She had chosen this spot because the narrow passage was too small for the beast to fit into. It would have to find another way in. But the only opening large enough would place it right over Oseye’s hiding place.
The monster eased over to the opening.
Closer.
It lowered its head.
Closer.
It locked eyes with its prey.
Now!
Oseye thrust her spear, aiming for the throat. The monster quickly shifted to the right, and the spear stabbed its shoulder instead. The huntress crawled deeper into the pathway as the Grootslang cried out, roaring as it ripped apart the roots that protected Oseye. It slashed her left thigh with a tusk before grabbing and pulling her out of the passageway with its trunk.
Oseye hollered, unleashing a barrage of jabs into the creature’s face and paws, refusing to let up.
The monster pulled away, dropping her. It tried to recapture her with its tail, but Oseye had already shimmied out of reach. The fall had broken her spear, so she left it behind.
She slid down to a lower level of the oasis, aiming for another spear she had propped against a tree.
The monster leapt and landed in front of her, blocking her from the weapon. Instead of lunging at her, it began circling her, looking for an opening to strike. The creature had learned not to underestimate her.