Taghna, running at wind speed, was striding along ferns into long strides. The frustration she had felt when talking to Færn returned in intense waves that confused her. Didn't her friend see that if she hadn't intervened, he would be the one bathing in a pool of blood? That if she hadn't slept so long after the ceremony, Ranié would still be alive? Her intuition urged her to do everything possible to help the village.
However, she was irremediably attracted by the reasons given by Færn. The insistence of the séalyar on the need to respect their traditions resonated within her. All her life, Taghna had followed the injunctions of her peers with more or less enthusiasm but without ever really disobeying them. Out of habit and repetition, the rules of the village had taken root and germinated in her. They had become her natural position, the place where she could rest at any time without having to make the effort to think.
On the other hand, when she began to think about the survival of her classmates, these ancestral customs seemed meaningless, empty. Worse, having absorbed a large part of the sacred water, Taghna considered herself responsible for the failure of the other children. It seemed normal to want to rectify the harm she had caused even if she had to ignore the proper functioning of her community.
Thus she didn't know what position to take.
Every time her reason told her to follow the voice of the deans, her instinct shouted to listen only to her own will. Whether she broke Séaroën's laws or let her friends die, no decision could appease her. She was torn from all sides and when she leaned towards a choice, the contradiction of her position was revealed with all the more violence.
Increasingly lost, Taghna stopped thinking and took a moment to clear her head by paying attention to nature. The familiar sounds and smells of the forest calmed her down. The sun's luminosity decreased and the canopy lost its soft green and took on darker shades. Despite the long day that was coming to an end, Taghna felt neither hunger, thirst nor fatigue.
She caught the trail of a group of wild boars.
Taghna let herself be guided by her senses and completely forgot herself. She became one with the vegetation around her. Each breath, each step brought its own set of perfumes and visual clues with which she drew a detailed map in her head. Similarly to when she had wanted to find Færn, she had no trouble tracking down the game.
When she saw the wild pigs, she approached the group downwind to hide her presence. She managed to stand so close to them that she could have reached out her hand to touch them. Such closeness should have made her jump with joy, shouted loud and clear about her success, but she remained invisible and inaudible. Like her néach, Taghna had adopted an attitude that was half present and half absent.
By her side, a male was sniffing the ground. When it detected the presence of soft roots and white, juicy larvae, it used its two front legs to dig deep furrows in the loose soil. He then used his nose and curved teeth to clear the discovered food.
Just behind Taghna, a female had found mushrooms that grew in thin black strata on séarach roots. With a sharp squeak, it called its little one who hastened to eat the food. Taghna heard the friction of the young boar's teeth chewing the elastic texture of the plant. A strong smell of wet soil and wild garlic was emanating from the animal's mouth.
Taghna realized that the villagers of Séaroën and the animals that populated the world were not so different. They were trying to survive. Forgetful of her situation, she put a hand on the male's back beside her. Through her fingers, she felt a wave of surprise running through the spine of the boar, which cried of distress. The animals ran away at full speed, completely panicked at having been surprised.
The wild boars' cries of fear took Taghna out of her state of semi-consciousness. In the fresh and humid air of dusk, she captured the smell of Déan. The trace, barely perceptible, was enough for her to set off. That's how she made her decision, letting her body act in her place. She would hunt for her comrades and go against the séalyar.
She could not deny the importance of being able to survive on her own. Since she had plunged into the uisgaïr, Taghna felt how much she had grown, in strength, agility and speed. Her progress had exceeded her highest expectations. She had become so skilled that she had just shared a moment with wild boars without them even noticing her presence. Thanks to her new skills, she could hunt without any difficulty.
If her classmates could not benefit from the same gifts as she did, it was clear that Séaroën's future would be uncertain. Without sacred water, they could not survive the surprise attack of predators or flush out the game they would smoke, dry and store in anticipation of the Hir. For all these reasons, she was going to do everything she could to help her friends and villagers.
After a long run, she found Déan lying on the ground shaking with a fever. He, who had always been the strongest of the gang from the beginning, now looked like a weak and helpless little boy. Taghna felt a pinch of remorse passing through her belly. She called his name several times while rubbing his body with force.
Déan finally reacted. His tremors were more pronounced and he whispered confused words. Not wanting to see him die in the night, Taghna took him on her shoulders and returned to where she had left Færn. The child did not weigh much and the journey was quick and uneventful.
The bear was still lying in a puddle of blood shimmering with a silvery light reflecting the brightness of the moon. Taghna looked around and easily found Færn. He had taken refuge a few steps away in a small cave. The smell from the walls, polished by the repeated passage of a large animal, was weak. The cave must have been abandoned a while ago.
A flickering light emanated from a cramped alcove where Færn was sitting. He had made a fire, more because he wanted some light than to keep warm.
- Færn, come help me, I found Déan, called Taghna.
The boy complied. He laid Déan down by the fire and looked at Taghna, not knowing what to do. While helping Déan, she said:
- Go find something to lower his fever while I go get more wood and water.
- Taghna... It's not a good idea, he replied.
- You're not going to do it again, are you? Look at him, Taghna said, pointing to Déan. Does that look normal to you? Let me tell you, it doesn't.
The darkness couldn't hide Færn's hesitation. He couldn't deny Déan's weakness but he was also convinced of the validity of the words of the séalyar. Taghna came out of the cave and Færn stayed to observe his friend. He finally sighed and went to get some medicinal plants. He couldn't argue for long with Taghna.
After giving Déan rudimentary care, Taghna did not wait another moment:
- Well, I'll go back and get the others. Make sure Déan doesn't need anything, please.
- But you can't see anything outside, Færn replied.
- What are you talking about? We can see perfectly.
- Taghna, I'm telling you, you're not normal. Maybe the uisgaïr allowed you to benefit from Lorgá's gifts more than we did, but...
- It has nothing to do with Lorgá, stop it with that.
- And how do you explain all this, then? The fact that you heal so quickly, that we find the animals' tracks without making any effort? What is it if it's not Lorgá?
- I don't know what it is. But I can't think that the First Woman would condemn our comrades like that, Taghna replied. I could never believe that the death of most of our friends is fair.
- I don't know. They may succeed in....
- Succeed in what? she interrupted.
- To hunt a prey by themselves.
- Færn, don't be naive. You see what happens to those who haven't had a uisgaïr. Ranié is dead and Déan is not far from it. When we get everyone together, I'll go hunting for you. I can do it. Everything will be fine, you'll see.
Taghna had raised her voice. She had become authoritarian and almost haughty. Færn could not help but feel diminished by his friend's attitude. Somehow, he had always told her what he thought and he was proud that Taghna took his opinion into account. He had often managed to make her listen to reason, but he saw that at that moment she was in one of her periods when she would not listen.
Taghna realized that her words had hurt Færn. Regretting that she had let herself be carried away, and not wanting to be isolated once again from her friend by her stubborn personality, she added:
- Excuse me... I can't just sit around and do nothing when everyone else dies around me. Do you understand?
Færn relaxed a bit.
- Yes, yes, you're right. But you can't do it all by yourself. And even if you could, what would that mean for us, for our traditions? We have to be useful to the village.
- Perhaps traditions can only be respected when everything is going well. But I think if we have the opportunity to help each other, then we have to do it. After all, that's what we do every day between us, right?
- Yes, except that everyone must pass the stroïgil....
The two friends were at a dead end. It was useless for Taghna to continue to argue with Færn; she had had enough trouble convincing herself. She knew that Færn's beliefs were as valid as hers but he could not imagine the gulf that separated them now.
Indeed, there was something else Taghna didn't want to tell Færn. She was convinced that he was still far from being able to catch a prey. Compared to her, Færn's way of moving as well as his senses were not sufficiently developed. He may have wanted to follow customs, but Tagna's instinct told her that his stroïgil was doomed.
Taghna decided to leave him the next day to realize his shortcomings before trying to rally him to her cause. As she came out of the cave, she crouched down and took a deep breath. She found the traces of Branach, Asgeül, Caïséan and Slavan. Her friends were far away from her. Knowing that Asgeül and Caïséan had benefited from the uisgaïr's powers, she decided to go get Slavan, closer to her than Branach.
Surrounded by darkness, she ran as fast as she could. Spending time had always helped her and she wanted to push her body into its deepest depths. If she had to hunt for her companions, she would have to be even more enduring than the deer and believe in her convictions without a drop of doubt.
In the action, hope returned.
Slavan had headed for the Tui. He had obviously found several traces of game, but could not follow one to the end. Just by retracing the movements of his brataïr, Taghna could see the course of events he had been through.
From a space with trampled grass, she detected Slavan's difficulties, saw him get lost, go around in circles before continuing his journey. She found the places where he had fallen asleep, the ones that had given her hope because he had accelerated the pace despite his decreasing forces. All these clues also convinced her that she had to help him because he was unable to hunt alone.
It took Taghna a good part of the night to reach Slavan. She found him, wandering aimlessly and rather thin. He was leaning towards the roots of a trunk. He took a few breaths and stood up with difficulty. His inability to decide on the way forward was painful to see.
When he noticed Taghna's presence, he gave her a lifeless look. She saw that, deep inside, he knew he couldn't do it. Slavan had given up on succeeding with the stroïgil.
- Well, what are you doing here? Have you not yet managed to pass the ceremony? he said in a tone where irony pierced above a great fatigue.
- Something happened, with the uisgaïr....
Slavan didn't answer anything. He didn't care now, he was determined to become a durséar. Taghna tried to share with him her idea of getting together to have a better chance of succeeding.
- Slavan, come with me.
- Why would you want me to come?
- To help you. Together, we can hunt a prey. Come, please....
- I don't need your help.
- You're not going to make it, I'm telling you.
Slavan drew a smile before answering, his lips pinched in a bitter grin:
- I see you don't know any more than I do.
Slavan could not be reasoned. He was detached, his gaze slipped from one tree to another without fixing itself. She felt he was like an empty shell, as if part of his mind had already joined the Great Plains. He had always been so brave, the one who had decided so many times when an argument broke out in the group. He was only a shadow of himself.
Taghna insisted once again to convince her brataïr:
- I... It's my fault, it's because of me if you haven't had enough uisgaïr.
- Why is that so?
- Why what?
- Why would it be your fault?
- I'm not sure... Ranié is dead, Déan is very weak. We have to help each other to survive.
- Leave me alone. It doesn't change anything. Come on, leave me alone, said Slavan.
The boy had turned around, no longer wanting to continue the discussion. He wanted to leave, go away from this forest which no longer welcomed him as it had done in his childhood. From a protective playground and food source, it had turned into a hostile world. Taghna wanted to grab Slavan by the arm but he screamed as he jerked his shoulder with force.
- Go away! Just go away, will you!
His anger destroyed Taghna's will like a rock smashing a sheet of ice. She had hesitated so much to help her comrades and ignore the words of the séalyar that she hadn't considered such a categorical refusal. She had imagined that, once she was convinced, the rest would follow. Already Færn, then Slavan... all her comrades seemed to reject her help.
Yet she had to admit that if she were them, she would certainly have done the same thing. She would never have admitted that she had no chance of killing a prey. Perhaps her reasons would have been different, but she would not have wanted anyone to come and tell her that she was unable to hunt.
Taghna felt as if a heavy log had fallen on her neck. She dropped to her knees as Slavan walked away. No matter how much she listened to her convictions and instincts, she could not change either the traditions that had been instilled in them or the personal will of her friends. Whatever she did, she couldn't change the course of the stroïgil.
She would have liked to curl up in a ball or fly away and lose her mind in the dark blue vastness above her. More than ever, she wished things had gone differently. Taghna felt such an injustice that she no longer knew what to do. Her world was crumbling before her eyes but she couldn't do anything about it.
Time followed its course and the day was slowly dawning. Taghna saw that the buds of the séarach were bristling with small pink petals that would soon hatch into fragrant flowers.
The hatching had begun, the stroïgil was nearing its end.
Taghna wandered for part of the morning until she caught a strong smell of blood mixed with Færn's scent. She rushed in its direction.
She found Færn crouching near a freshly killed deer. Still haggard after Slavan's brutal rejection, she could not understand what she was seeing.
- But, Færn? Did you... did you succeed? How? I...?
- Well, yes, why not? Did you think I couldn't do it?
- No, I... I mean, yes. I thought the animals would be stronger.
Færn, happy with his capture, did not realize Taghna's deep trouble. He laughed and began a long description of his success:
- It wasn't easy, though. I've been tracking this deer since this morning. But I felt like I would eventually get there. Every time I tried, I got a little closer. Well, I missed a few times, but...
Færn's voice formed an incomprehensible flow of words to Tagna's ears. She still couldn't believe her eyes. She was dizzy with the course of events. She, who had been sure that her friend was not up to the task, was sitting on the still warm body of a beautifully sized deer.
Taghna watched him, unable to formulate a thought. While continuing his story with enthusiasm, Færn struggled to cut a piece of a beautiful white horn, proof of his success. Finally, she managed to pronounce a sentence:
- But, what about Déan?
- He returned to the village. This morning, he had enough strength to walk and...
Færn stopped when he noticed Taghna's condition. He saw how tired her face was and took her in his arms. Taghna continued to stammer, still unable to put her thoughts in order:
- Well done. I really don't understand how all this is possible. Well done...
- Taghna, are you all right?
- I went to find Slavan. He won't make it, you know, she said after a moment of silence.
- Are you sure about that? Look, I finally got it right....
- Yes. That's true, but Slavan...
Taghna didn't finish her sentence. Færn wanted to comfort her:
- You know, I think it's better to wait until the end of the stroïgil. As our néach said, we can't know how it's going to end. We should go home and ask the séalyar for their opinion, don't you think?
- Yes, you're probably right, Taghna replied in a whisper.
Færn broke the recalcitrant piece of horn and dragged Taghna towards the village.
- Oh, I almost forgot! he said, turning back in a hurry after a few steps.
He came back quickly and gave Taghna something. In the palm of her hand, she felt a smooth, sharp object. It was the big claw from the bear she had killed.
- Oh... Thank you, said Taghna without much conviction.
As she remained motionless, Færn resumed his journey and they returned to Séaroën. Færn's joy had returned, but Taghna remained silent. She felt broken and scattered in many pieces. Her success brought her no pleasure and she could not share her friend's good humour. She also feared the answer her séalyar when they returned to the village.