The next day, Taghna was quick to share with Færn what she had heard during the night. She had urged him to finish his meal and they had moved away to be able to talk in peace. The children had gotten used to never staying idle and, while Taghna was telling her story, the two were picking buds that grew on trees and bushes.
After listening carefully to the summary of the discussion, Færn remained thoughtful for a long time. Taghna took the opportunity to assail him with her own questions, wanting to know his opinion on Rissar's particular remark about learning through the body. To her, that was the real mystery. But in front of Færn's silence, she began to lose patience. His lack of will, or worse, curiosity, was not something she took lightly:
- Færn, I'm talking to you, are you ignoring me or what?
- It's strange, he replied without taking into account his friend's last remark. What are they talking about when they say they can't know before the stroïgil?
This remark cut Taghna off in her tracks. She was more interested in the first part of the discussion and thought that the rest was less important. But now that Færn was pointing to this idea, she felt she had made a mistake.
The children had never wondered if there were things that adults could not know. They answered all their questions and seemed infallible, both in the collection of food and about the village's past and the function of each villager in the community. Their very way of behaving, as if they were never really concerned about what was around them, reinforced this idea.
- You think they actually don't know what's going on during the stroïgil, do you? asked Taghna.
- I don't know about that. It seems more like they can't know in advance how it's going to go. As if we were as likely to pass as or not...
This thought made the two children shiver. Until now, the future seemed to them to be set in stone. They learned to survive on their own, got ready to participate in the ceremony of adulthood before perpetuating the traditions of Séaroën.
- Yet all the adults took part, didn't they? continued Færn.
- Yes, yes, I think so....
- So it's weird, they should know if we're going to become... durchar, right?
It took them a few minutes to think about this option, continuing their actions mechanically. Failure was not part of their thoughts and the adults never told them that what they were doing was not good enough.
- Well, either they know and don't tell us, or they don't know, concluded Taghna.
This did not reassure them either. They continued to collect more and more fresh shoots. Without them noticing, the Hir was coming to an end. The temperature was sometimes so mild that they no longer wore their mittens. As they licked with pleasure the sap of the burgeoning flowers, their fingers would get covered with sticky liquid. More insects were buzzing in their ears and supplementing their food.
They focused for a moment on gathering resources and then distinguished Maoïr behind a dense séarach bush. The master, on all fours on the ground, was lost in thought. Taghna and Færn immediately looked at each other and thought the same thing. They started running towards him. He welcomed them as usual with a simple "Hello, children" while showing no sign of interest. He was breathing a handful of dirty snow. The crystals were covered with soil and dead grass. His eyes darted around and then he resumed his search.
Taghna and Færn were reluctant to interrupt Maoïr in what seemed to be a particularly important analysis. They waited a long time before deciding to ask in unison:
- Maoïr, what happens during the stroïgil? Said Taghna.
The man, imperturbable, replied:
- When you are ready, you will have the opportunity to prove your ability to survive.
- But why don't you want to train us for this, then?
- Taghna, every awakened moment is dedicated to this training, don't you know it yet? he said most naturally.
- But you don't hunt, do you? asked Færn.
- There are many ways to hunt, my little Færn, and all of them are essential to Séaroën's survival.
- I don't see how picking is the same as hunting, Taghna added.
- Don't worry about it, you just have to do your best. Now, where are you with your harvest? asked Maoïr in a tone that indicated he wanted to close this discussion.
- We're doing very well. Besides, Færn is even starting to make reserves, isn't Færn? said Taghna. Do you think we'll be able to try hunting soon?
The little girl did not forget why they had come to do. So the man ended up admitting:
- It's still a little early for that, but it will come. First of all, you must be one with what surrounds you. That said, he added with a smile, the pieces of wood I asked you to look for will be useful to you in making your first assegai. So don't waste any time!
Surprised to be given such valuable information, it took Taghna a moment to understand Maoïr's words. Then she jumped with joy, shouting that they would soon start hunting. Her enthusiasm convinced Færn, who joined in her happiness and started looking for branches that could be used to make the most beautiful spear ever made.
Very quickly, the word spread around the group of children and a light and joyful competition took place. All began to pick up or break branches of varying length and thickness, not knowing how to build a spear or what characteristics of the wood to use to make a weapon worthy of the name. Everyone went on to argue their own theory and were debating it with all the seriousness of those in the unknown.
At the end of the day, as the sun was dropping in the sky, they were famished. They had rushed to complete their daily tasks to spend as much time as possible choosing their tools, exchanging opinions and justifying their choices. They didn't mind not knowing anything about it, they followed what they felt. They would have time to change their strategy. Déan, who had mocked Stær when he saw the tiny branches she had gathered under her frail arm, had sworn that the largest possible piece of wood was needed and he had found one so long and thick that he could not even carry it alone.
After long debates around the fire, each child was left with two or three possible sizes that could do the job. They preferred to keep options open if an adult suddenly gave them valuable advice that would change the situation. Only Slavan and Taghna worked with a single straight branch. They jealously protected it and no one could touch it.
Realizing that most adults were slow to return, Asgeül offered to play archféar by brandishing their new weapon. Taghna obviously refused to take over the role of the losers, claiming that she had already done so last time.
- But we didn't even have time to play, Branach protested.
- That's right, added Caïséan, who usually stayed quiet. Besides, we should all change roles, otherwise it's not fair.
- Asgeül should be an archféar. That way, we'll be even, said Taghna.
Seeing this as an opportunity to show magnanimity, Asgeül, more socially skilled than Taghna, was about to accept her role when Færn interrupted:
- I don't mind being an archféar for today.
- What?! reacted Taghna who almost choked of surprise. Asgeül was going to say yes! In that case, you go with her.
- Okay, we can do that, he agreed.
Her friend's attitude ended up driving Taghna mad with anger and she just stood back. In the end, she even refused to take part in the childish fight, when everyone was hitting each other with their piece of wood. Her attitude allowed the invaders, led by Stær, to win the game. Taghna refused to speak to anyone that evening and she did everything she could not to listen to Rissar's story.
The following days were dedicated to the making of their spears. The children spent the morning and part of the afternoon collecting enough food for the group. They then sat in a circle and followed Maoïr's instructions. Their master had shown them several pruning techniques, from the simplest, ideal for making a weapon for the day, to the most complicated, which would allow them to keep their javelin for years to come. He still insisted that they do as they please. They must feel free to experiment or else they would never learn what was right for them.
Very quickly, the ground was covered with many wood chips that looked like pale yellow feathers. The children meticulously cut, refined, debarked and blackened their piece of wood. Despite Maoïr's recommendations, which advised them not to spend too much time perfecting a tool that was highly dependent on the skill of its owner, everyone was working as meticulously as possible.
During those days, Taghna didn't see time going by. She was completely immersed in her work and anything that slowed her down, whether it was picking or just a conversation, irritated her. She never let go of her branch and kept it close to her even when she slept. This had earned her mockery from some of her classmates, but she didn't care. She was even proud to distinguish herself in this way. She had the impression that her body was absorbing the spear, as could roots that gradually covered stones on their way.
One morning, Maoïr took them near a rock at the entrance to the village. He had continued to teach them the art of plants as soon as they woke up so the children didn't realize what was awaiting them. Their master had made several poles to which three roughly braided baskets were attached. As soon as Taghna saw them, her heart started to beat so excited she was.
- To begin with, you will have to train on these targets, said Maoïr. You can choose the distance. To throw effectively, you have to hold the spear like this. Don't try too hard to aim, try to find a natural movement instead.
He did as he said and the javelin went straight ahead. It sank deep into the target. His gesture had been very flexible and Taghna had to face the facts: Maoïr knew what he was talking about.
She and her comrades then stood one behind the other and tried to reach the target. The first tries immediately revealed those who were comfortable with spear throwing, and those who would have more difficulty controlling their motions. Lighter spears were easier to handle but did not penetrate the target and fell to the ground. INversely, the heavier they were, the more force they required to throw them if the children wanted to stand more than two steps from their imaginary prey. They therefore decided to put aside the heaviest weapons, such as those of Déan and Slavan. They would use them later, when their arms became stronger.
Taghna's weapon was a little too heavy but she still persisted, thinking that she would rather have more trouble now than waste time gaining muscle. When she threw, she quickly gave up all her doubts and fears and just kept doing it, again and again, adjusting the angle, turning on herself and using her wrist. When she pierced the basket filled with dead leaves, she felt an absolute joy. However, she never let herself go easy and took a step further before trying again. This way, she progressed very fast.
She could feel it in every fiber of her body. Hunting was what she was predestined to do, she had no doubt about it. Already, she could only see the backs of the other children, who were not as good as she was at propelling the spear where they wanted. Even Asgeül, who was not far behind, was losing ground from her.
But since no one asked Taghna for help, she simply observed them in silence, judging their technique and keeping her remarks to herself. She was still helping Færn, who was having a hard time aiming and even more so finding the right body movement. She always placed his hand back in the center of the long branch and mimicked the gesture to be made. The little boy couldn't imitate her and his throws lacked speed and precision.
After a long training session, Taghna realized that she could no longer progress as fast as she wanted. Worse still, Caïséan, who had always remained silent, had almost taken the lead. Her spear flew straight ahead and hit the target with a satisfying chak! Taghna looked at her with envy, studied her throw but still couldn't reproduce the prowess of her classmate. Upset, she decided to seek her advice after some inconclusive and particularly frustrating attempts.
Caïséan listened to Taghna's query and looked deep into her eyes, without answering. Taghna noticed a calm that already resembled that of adults. It was as if she had no pleasure in training but continued, without question, out of duty and tradition. Surprised to see that she was not the only one who was gifted, and uncomfortable understanding that her attitude was very different from Caïséan's, Taghna waited a moment without saying anything, before getting bored, disappointed. The bitterness was already rising in her stomach when she replied:
- Well, if you don't want to tell me, I understand...
And she turned around but heard:
- Take my spear in hand.
Caïséan's calm voice stopped Taghna in her tracks. She did as she was told. The weapon was surprisingly heavy in her hand. She must have chosen a denser wood than her. She realized that Caïséan had not looked down on her, that her slow, calm and silent reactions were simply part of her personality. She also had simply followed Maoïr's advice by using a heavier spear each time. Her lack of trust made Taghna feel ashamed. She was angry at herself for doubting everything and everyone. She showed none of her discomfort and listened to Caïséan's instructions.
- Look, when you use it, you can help yourself with your back foot, like you're pushing it. That way, even if your weapon is heavier, you can still throw it with all your might.
At the end of the third attempt, the tip of the javelin pierced the pole through, which surprised Caïséan and the other children. Taghna thanked Caïséan summarily, still ashamed of her thoughts, ignored a jealous remark by Asgeül and immediately set out to find a more appropriate branch.
With her new spear in hand, Taghna progressed even faster. The further away she was physically from the target, the more she felt she was cutting herself off from the group. Not wanting to think too much about these things, on which she couldn't put words, she just left. The stationary targets had become too boring. So she started to walk through the forest alone, shooting at what she saw: falling leaves, buds and even flying insects or birds, everything was a pretext to try to train her, even if the latter were theoretically forbidden to hunt. Without seeing what adults were capable of and knowing that she was more skilled than her companions, she came to imagine that they were simply unable to kill a flying animal, which further strengthened her efforts to do so.
Her constant search for new imaginary prey isolated her almost completely from the rest of the world. She felt free and strong at those times and that feeling of independence was exhilarating. However, she could not deny the fact that she was running away from another kind of feeling, much less pleasant. Færn tried several times to tell her that she had changed, that they would no longer explore the surroundings together, but Taghna, not using the words she wanted to, told him that he should stop worrying about nothing.
- But you're never around, I can't know if you're okay or not, he said, grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to stop for a moment.
- It is not me who is leaving, she replied, it is the others who do not want me.
- You're talking nonsense. Slavan has offered you several times to join us. I'm willing to believe that Asgeül annoys you, but now you're the one who's going away from us.
She saw in his eyes that he was hurt but also that he was worried about her, that he was wondering what had changed since their first outings, when they shared all their findings. Færn, usually silent, had done everything he could to open himself to his friend, but Taghna could only notice the gap that was inevitably widening between them. Unable to open up to him, she simply says:
- Let me go, I need to practice.
She immediately regretted her words and saw Færn walk away, shoulders down.