Ember of a New World

by Watson, Tom

  This village is a tomb and no place for the living, she thought. Ember needed to decide what to do next, and her options seemed more limited by the moment. The sky was becoming darker, and the wind was growing. Ember was starting to worry about a coming storm. Normally she would not have dared to go farther down the river, but how could she sleep all night in this destroyed village with the dead all around!? The thought nearly sent her into a panic. It was said by some Elders that the dead could rise, especially at night, and wonder the forests. Ember gulped at the thought. It was decided then: she would try and put as much space between her and this village as she could before the storm came.

  As she made her way towards the path to the river, Ember noticed a mound in the dirt near the edge of the village. The dirt was moved not more than a few seasons ago, and grass had only barely stared to grow again. Ember couldn't help her curiosity. She grabbed a discarded stone hand hoe and started digging at the dirt pile. Could this have been buried by the raiders? What could have been left behind? If it was a grave for a raider, she would surely have to defile it!

  After a short while Embers arms hurt from digging frantically, the storm still on her mind, but she had unearthed several clay pots. Each had been sealed with clay or bees wax and contained dried nuts, tubers, and grains. Could this be a stockpile left behind by the Raiders? As she dug, Ember found caches of arrows and spears which looked like those of the raiders. An arrow and spear take lots of time to create, due to the stone heads. Flint arrow heads required a flint nodule, a large piece of flint, which could be broken into heads in a process known as flint knapping. Ember had been known for her ability to find such flint nodules. This was a valuable thing to be left behind.

  First, Ember thought of destroying the food. Then she remembered that, though most of the slaves would be traded to other tribes before these butchers returned if they were returning, some might be kept. A warrior who would kill and take slaves wouldn't feed his slave before himself. Additionally, for this many houses there were nowhere near enough bodies. Perhaps half of the tribe had fled and might return at some point.

  No, she would leave the food, but she must hurt these evil people. The destruction of the arrows and spears would cost enough in time or trade to render their raid less than profitable. With a satisfied grin Ember broke all of the spears and arrows removing the flint heads, and a few bone heads too. She carried the heads to the river in a pot and placed them into her boat. Ember considered keeping a few of the nice heads, but she couldn't keep such evil items. The bag of flint attached to her waist was clean and pure, not crafted by vile hands.

  Ember stood still for a moment and asked the Gods to watch over these fallen people in the afterlife. The more she thought about their fate, the more pain she felt welling in her chest. Ember gave the village one last look and brushed back a tear as she pushed the little boat into the water.

  What if the raiders had come to my village? she thought. This had been a bigger village, and she knew it was assuredly better guarded. When she returned she would discuss the matter with the Elders.

  “If I return…,” she grimaced.

  When Ember sat in the boat, she noticed the water becoming choppy and the wind blowing more steadily now. Ember pushed the boat into the current with her steering pole. She had two choices, either keep the boat close to the bank where she could easily get out of the river if the rain started, or move towards the center of the river where the current was the fastest. She might put more distance between herself and the dead village before the storm, at the risk of being too far out when the storm hit. Ember chose the latter of the two and maneuvered the boat into the center of the river, the thought of the dead village adding fear to every action.

  The boat was tugged constantly by the water as the wind picked up. The current made controlling the boat harder, but the images of the half decayed skeletons were still on her mind. Ember composed herself and threw the pot of arrow and spear heads into the water with a loud curse to the vile warriors. She hoped the Gods heard and took action for those poor people.

  The wind blew ever stronger while the choppy waters became a rough, treacherous current as the little boat bobbed about, barely controllable. The sky had become dark, suddenly, and the wind was really picking up fast. Though the boat bobbed about, buffeted by the winds, Ember still felt that she had control. She started to maneuver the boat towards the shore expecting to have to abandon the river for the night, soon. Ember was quite familiar with steering the little craft as she had grown up using such boats to fish the deeper waters, but all hopes of continuing vanished when the first blast of lightning hit not 60 lengths of a man from Ember!

  The sound pained her ears and she was temporarily blinded. After a moment, Ember regained her sight and realized, to her horror, that her paddle pole was gone! She must have dropped it into the river as she reeled back from the blast. Panic ensued, and a cold rush of fear danced up her spine. The storm was not getting closer, it was upon her now! Ember had misread her environment and taken too great of a risk. Fear made Ember's blood run as cold as the suddenly cooling air. A boat without a paddle was a feather falling in the wind! She would have no control where she went or upon what she landed.

  The boat was already starting to turn slightly sideways, a dangerous event as the boat would soon capsize! Ember noticed the small fishing spear she had beside her and removed the leather thong which lashed it down to the boat. Using her fishing spear she could try to control the boat in the ever faster moving river. She dipped the spear handle into the water and pulled hard against the current. The effect was noticeable, but the boat continued to grow increasingly hard to control. Drag in the water created by the rounded spear handle couldn't compare to the pole oar, which had a flat paddle side. The boat started drifting into the dead center of the river where the current was strongest.

  Ember couldn't believe how fast the river had turned to deadly. This was not the way the river behaved, normally. Storms usually moved from west to east, which meant the river wouldn't have filled with water so fast as it was now doing. How could a storm from downstream cause water to flow more greatly? As her muscles fought the current furiously, Ember wondered how a storm could cause such a torrent of water.

  Little did Ember know that the storm was a massive front moving north by north east. A larger portion of the storm system had already dumped a massive amount of water east of Ember. Only by happenstance did she now encounter the rise and rush of water at the same time as the storm. This truly was a very odd weather pattern. Somewhere not too far up the river a boulder fought a deadly duel with the onrush of water. The proud boulder seemed to be winning.

  Water rushed, and the rain fell as Ember rode her boat through what resembled a tidal bore. Ember was suddenly thrust aside as a hard knock from a hidden rock sent the little boat tumbling to the right. Ember dropped her spear in surprise, feeling her body lurching to the right. Reacting instinctively, Ember threw her weight to the other side of the boat in an act of desperation which she knew would likely result in the boat flipping over the opposite way, but without the ability to resist the attempt.

  The little boat obliged, nearly turning over, but held fast against her weight. Unfortunately, the force of Ember rocking the boat against the water had an equal and opposite effect as the boat barreled over in the direction she had moved her body, propelled by its own buoyancy as much as her movement and the shape of the hull. Over turned the boat and into the cold rapids went Ember and all of her precious supplies. The end of her perilous run had been around a major turn north in the river. The water was forced around the bend in the river pushing the water out wide and through rapids at either side.

  As luck or irony would have it, the rapids were caused by fast moving water against the riverbank. Ember knew that she had perhaps twelve lengths of a man to swim to the bank, but she was already under water and being pulled deeper by the second.

  Ember pulled hard against the current and fought to orien
t herself, but the water wouldn't allow her freedom. Down Ember went as the river pulled her, tumbling end over end. Her saving grace was the feel of the cool and soft silty sand against her feet as she hit the bottom of the river; she must have capsized in the shallows of the river, she realized, but how? She had been in the center of the river when she lost her oar. Had the boat moved into the shallows while out of her control? The rock which turned her boat over had to have been in the shallows...

  Her lungs burned for air whipping any thoughts from her mind, but one, Ember knew she would have to allow the river to have its way a moment longer. Ember allowed the river to win and stopped struggling, letting her body glide to the bottom fully, and her feet making solid contact, before springing upwards with all of the force she could muster. Ember could see the water becoming less dark as she pulled upwards, but the effect diminished quickly as her own eyesight began to turn black from lack of air. She let the air from her lungs leave her mouth, needing them free if she emerged from the water, for even a second.

  Suddenly, her head broke the surface, and she pulled in air furiously before she was again thrust under. Were her face not already wet, tears would be seen in her eyes as she was pulled down again. Suddenly Ember's face became free of the river once more, and she gasped in air. The river was indeed forcing her up and down, but she could see that she was nearly ashore! Ember swam with all of the energy she had left, which was not much. As she started to feel the sand in her grasp, she felt her body give way to the strain. The water still had her, and she was being pushed and pulled without any control. She took another half breath, but she had used too much energy in her burst of swimming and was giving in to the water now. This time when she was tugged down, by her exhaustion and not the water, she gave in. The light of the evening slowly faded into darkness as Ember just simply let go.

  Chapter 5: Alone

  There really isn't much evidence for large scale combat in early Neolithic Europe. Armies, warriors, battlements, and fortresses arose much later in history. There is evidence for raids during the Neolithic period but wholesale slaughter, and total war were not commonplace due to the lack of nations and the massive resources needed for such battle. Individual tribes may have practiced raids for food, tools, or even for women. These would have been local events and fatalities were probably more incidental than routine.

  Though the notion of taking women sounds quite misogynist, raids may have helped with gene pool diversification, with women being generally uninjured and on occasion, perhaps even staged as part of a ritualistic event. It is important to consider that modern conventions of right and wrong may have been vastly different in ancient times, though secular morality is seemingly a construct of social species and assuredly existed in some form.

  The sight of a full destroyed village with dead everywhere and mass murder would have been abhorrent to Ember. Such raids, more akin to Saxon or Viking style, would not become common in Europe for perhaps another five or six thousand years. Regardless of the reduced threat of raids, Ember grew up in a time when child birth was very risky, when a poor harvest or a bad winter could kill an entire people, and when harmony with nature was still required for life.

  That life, in general, was quite hard and dangerous. Ember watched her mother light fires by hand, plant and raise crops, and a multitude of domestic chores. Ember would have been fully able to gut an animal as easily as she could make pots and plates from clay and fire. Reconstructing and reenacting every skill used by Ember requires years of dedication and many painful injuries. Flint knapping cuts your fingers while weaving reeds leaves your fingers raw. Unfortunately, the skills Ember may not have had were related to hunting. She probably would be resourceful at gathering shellfish, flora, and hunting fish. Perhaps that will be enough.

  Ember opened her eyes and looked out at blackness. She was dead, and the river had carried her body away. Perhaps she would drift along the river and decay in some dark place. She felt no pain now and hoped it wouldn't come. The strange thing about dying was the stars all around her. Ember did not move for a short time simply watching the stars, when suddenly a shooting star caught her eye and snapped her from her daze.

  Did the dead float in the sky? she wondered.

  As Ember slowly became conscious, she realized that she had not died but had apparently washed ashore; or had she finished her swim? Ember was lying strewn along a pebbly bank with one of her legs still in the water. She couldn't remember anything past blacking out. The sky was dark, and it had become night, but the rain had subsided leaving a mostly clear sky. As a slight wind fell upon her skin, she realized that she wore no skirt. Looking down, Ember took a quick and half dazed inventory of her person. She still wore her precious doe skin shirt, though it was quite wet. Her woven fiber skirt had apparently been torn away by the currents and her leather boots with it. Ember carefully propped herself up on her elbows and looked around.

  A quick check revealed that she was alone on the pebbly river bank with none of her supplies to be seen. With great effort Ember pulled herself to her feet and stumbled off of the beach towards the brush farther ashore. She felt the chill again and a pang of modesty took her, causing her to grasp at her doe skinned shirt pulling it lower. Her breechcloth had come loose in the back, and she tucked it back into place, nearly falling in the process, as she was very weak.

  What a silly thing to worry about!, she thought as there was probably no person within a day's journey, and of course, the rabbits and deer don't worry with such things as modesty. Thankfully, the well-made shirt hung slightly below the waist and kept her somewhat covered, as much as a long shirt could. Ember's mind slowly began to go blank. The swim and her ordeal had tired her out much more than she expected. As Ember walked up the bank, she nearly toppled over several times from weakness. Dazed, Ember struggled to walk farther and fell limply into the brush. She curled into a tight ball against the wind and shivered back to sleep.

  That night Ember dreamed deep dreams in which she was a Raven. Ember took to the night skies and flew high with the stars. Below her, she saw dark forests for as far as the eye could see, but dotted with small points of light. Each point of light was a great distance from the next. Ember flew towards one of these points of light and came in low for a look. The lights turned out to be central hearth fires from small villages. Below her, people walked around talking and living their lives.

  Ember the bird landed upon a wooden post and watched the people. One couple of merry makers came from a longhouse in each other’s arms laughing and talking romantically, though Ember couldn't understand them. As they approached, she realized that the woman was her! She was perhaps a few harvests older, but the long red hair and green eyes were a giveaway. In her arms, she embraced a dark haired man who reminded her of a boy she had seen, and had a crush on, from another tribe close by. Her older self-had a necklace with a large shiny blue pendant and a large dagger at her waist. She carried herself as a warrior. Her hands were painted a deep blue from finger to elbow, and her legs were equally pained from toe to knee. As the couple wandered off for some romantically secluded spot, Ember suddenly felt alone. She had transitioned from a girl to a woman and ended up on a crazy adventure, the apparent will of the Gods! How would she ever go about being a woman? She took to the sky to contemplate these questions.

  Ember awoke to a welcoming sun warming her skin. She was covered in mud, dirt, and a bit of vegetation. She slowly sat up and took better note of her surroundings. She was sitting on a large pile of drift brush by a deceptively calm river. After a pleasant series of stretches, Ember slowly stood and walked down to the river’s edge to clean herself. She removed her doe skin shirt and walked carefully into the same water, now calm, which had nearly been her end just the day before. The water was slightly warmer with the sun, but the wind and the light upon her skin made the real difference. Ember placed her hands upon the river's surface and closed her eyes. She said a prayer to the River Spirits thanking them for letting her go,
or at least for not taking her. With her ritual thanks given, Ember dove under the water and ran her fingers through her long hair cleaning the debris from it. With a second lung full of air, she dove and scooped handfuls of mud and clay from the bottom of the river. She emerged from the water and began to spread the mud on her skin. Ember recalled her mother making a special paste from tubers and some other plant she couldn't recall. The paste allowed her to clean her hair more effectively, but for now the river would provide.

  After a short while she had covered her entire upper body with the mud. Ember proceeded to rub the mud vigorously over her skin before diving into the water again and cleaning it off. The mud had an exfoliating effect which left any who used this method feeling clean and refreshed. Standing at ankles depth in the shallows, Ember cleaned her lower body using the same method. She removed her breechcloth and rubbed it clean with the sand, all while in waist deep water. Afterward she came ashore and took her doe skin shirt and beat it against a large rock until much of the dirt had been removed. The sun had done its work, and the dried mud and the debris merely fell off of the shirt. As Ember replaced the shirt and the breechcloth, she suddenly realized that she had not checked for her precious knife or sack of flint!

  A feeling of fear and foreboding dread trickled down her spine and like a startled rabbit she was off running barefoot down the river bank looking for her possessions. She clearly knew the possibility was remote, but she had to check. Her capsizing had occurred, as best as she remembered, in the shallows at a bend in the river. Much of her possessions would have been lost as she swam ashore. Perhaps some had been washed ashore or were merely left by the water when she awoke, tired as she was. The ground around her had the telltale signs of having been submerged recently. Perhaps the river had flooded, and she now stood on what had been under water the night before.