Celestial Roots

Chapter 24 - Doubts

Taghna headed for the exit. As she climbed up the steps, she noticed that a rock was obstructing part of the tunnel. Its rounded shape and the polished surface of its edges and floor indicated that it was used as a door. A few holes, which provided a space for hands to handle it, marked its smooth surface. Thus, rather than locking themselves in during the Hir, as the inhabitants of Séaroën did, the muïréal used this system to enter and leave their homes as they wished while still being protected from the intense cold.

Outside, the air was fresh and pleasant. Taghna was not used to being locked up for so long. She had always preferred to stay outside and practice hunting. The muïréal's home was comfortable, but for her, who suffered neither cold nor hunger, the open air was worth all the refuge in the world.

The day had been full of novelties. The last time she has discovered so many things at once must have been during her first trip at the end of Hir. Her thoughts were flying around. The feeling that kept coming back was betrayal. The séalyar had lied.

Throughout her childhood, she had believed that the world came down to what she was taught, to the word of the deans and the néach. Rissar's stories, the knowledge that Maoïr gave, the advice from adults, sometimes with ease, sometimes by repeating the same thing over and over; all of this formed an image that described the world as it was.

Strangely, however, Taghna felt that this description of the world, which seemed indestructible, was only part of the truth. Each word of the séalyar gave the impression of an immutability which, far from reflecting the world as it was, in fact revealed the personal vision of the deans that they willingly maintained and perpetuated.

Taghna had been immersed in this vision, in these words, since she was born, and she had rarely questioned what she was taught. She certainly liked to do things her own way, and, for example, the blue expanse beyond the treetops had drawn her in despite the repeated warnings of her néach, and her classmates stared at the ground like they were told.

This certainty of being part of an orderly world had been destroyed during the stroïgil. The coming of age ceremony, and especially the gift of the uisgaïr, had allowed Taghna to discover the hidden face of her village: the behaviours of the séalyar had become impossible to understand when Taghna was thinking about the survival of the village.

Thus, the séalyar appeared to her as liars, a group of old women who didn't want to change their ways even though the outside world was sending strong signals that something off was going on. Maybe their method worked when the majority of the children managed to hunt their first prey, but when so many of them died, then it was a clear sign to Taghna that an alternative had to be found.

Although Taghna understood that hunting too much could have a negative impact on future generations, she still did not see why the séalyar refused to help her comrades. If it was necessary to ensure that the members of the village were able to provide for Séaroën's needs, it would have sufficed for Déan, Branach or Ranié to return to the village and regain their strength before entering the Great Plains.

The exact opposite had happened. Slavan, exhausted after a too difficult stroïgil without Lorgá's help, had not been able to rest. He presented himself in front of Séabanh, admitted his defeat and fled the village, driven by the invisible but nonetheless real pressure of the group. Without Taghna's help, Slavan would have been exhausted by the time he reached the Great Plains.

Taghna saw this disastrous result as the arrogance of the séalyar who had not wanted to think of another solution. If only they had dared to show their weakness, their lack of knowledge about this new situation, perhaps no one would have died. If, instead of thinking that the other villages were enemies, the deanesses sought to contact them and share their knowledge, as the muireal did, the dangers of Hir could turn into a mere inconvenience.