When I was seven, I remember an owlbear making its way into the center of the village. It was scared and threatened by everything around it. Eventually it started attacking the villagers. A boy a few years older than me decided to attack the owlbear before the adults could arrive. The owlbear reacted defensibly and mauled the boy's leg. I can remember his exposed bone ripped barren of flesh from the owlbear's claws. The sight caused the other kids to cry, and some ran away. I remember staring at it for a moment in shock before I realized he was still alive.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the boy. After wrapping my arms under his, I tried to carry him away before the owlbear's next attack. I remember his labored whisper. Back then, and even now, it was as clear as a bird's call through a cloudless sky: help me.
Without proper thought, I positioned myself over the boy's limp body as if I could do something to save him. The owlbear screeched and reared backwards. A woman down the road called out for the boy as the owlbear's claws bared for impact, and I did the only thing I could; I screamed. I screamed for my mother. I screamed so loudly my world froze for an instant before the birds scattered from the treetops.
The soft whistle of an arrow silenced my scream. And the owlbear collapsed onto me and the boy. However, it was dead. Killed by the arrow through its right eye. I recognized the amber peryton feathers my mother used to make her ammunition. The owlbear was moved from atop our bodies, and I was comforted by the sight of my mother in an apron with her bow hung over her torso.
My mother pulled me into her arms while the other adults took the boy away so he could be healed. She smoothed the frazzled strands of my black hair while I cried into her chest.
"It is alright. You do not need to be afraid anymore," she whispered to me.
I told her I was not afraid as I looked up at her with my round slate blue eyes. I cried because I could not do anything to save the boy.
"That is not true," she proclaimed. "Without you, that boy would have been alone in his hour of need. You saved him from a lonely death."
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Memories of Mei
FantasyMei Marivaldi recounts the events of her life growing up in the era of the Second Lands. Many of these events remain a secret from her current traveling companions, and she planned to take them to the grave. Can Mei learn to let go of the past? The...
