Heir of Fire and Ice

The Tattoo

Four years had passed since she had escaped from Maeve, and Elentiya's friendship with Eleri had flowered. They were twelve, and she was aware that things were changing. She was growing up. It had begun last year with her period, but now there were more changes. Her body was changing shape. She was slowly becoming a woman.

She wasn't sure how she'd gotten up the courage to ask Rowan, but finally she did. She wanted her story tattooed onto her skin in the Old Language. Because it was hers, and she wanted to claim it. She had expected argument, but Rowan seemed to understand. He had gone away and came back with some designs. It had been a hard choice - they were all so perfect. But one had stood out. It was simple - just a spiral. It started just between her shoulder blades and the lowest point was around the bottom of her rib cage. It spiraled inwards on her back, finishing close to her heart.

It hurt, but not in a bad way. It was bearable. She knew that she could cope with the pain. She wasn't scared. She wanted to have proof of what she had suffered, for it to belong to her. Not Maeve, not anyone else. To her.

...

Rowan was glad. It must sound odd to anyone who did not understand their culture, but Elentiya was doing what seemed right to her. Some might call her young, and she was, but it was her body, her choice. Anyway, she may not be old in years, but she had maturity in an uncommon way. You could tell that she was in no way normal, that she had had different experiences. She did not seem young. Not old or heavy, but not foolish or ignorant.

...

Elentiya felt... she didn't really know how she felt. Happy, in a way. But sad too. It felt like she was in some way growing older. She would never be the same again. Good - she shouldn't. Shouldn't forget, or pretend it never happened. She would never let herself be pushed down by Maeve again.