Painting Wings in Shades of Red

[Istvan]

Istvan remembered sixteen seasons ago, when the bottom dropped out of the world and he was thrust into the swirling void alone. He had been young then, possessed of the heady self-confidence of youth that helped him know that his path was right and his choice was just. The otter was older now, and experience had tempered this arrogance into bedrock faith worthy of a saint. He had felt no small amount of pride in his ability to ignore the distractions of the world in favor of the truth of the All-Mother, and considered his belief to be utterly unshakeable.

Then in five minutes a mud-covered amphibian had shattered that assumption and sent his mind reeling. It wouldn?t do to let the group know this, of course. They all thought him an idiot, but he would not humiliate himself further with this... momentary lapse. The otter walked stiffly away until he was out of sight of the others, then sat down with his head in his paws.

Moles. He had been played for a fool by moles. The landslide had not been a judgment of the Mother, but the action of a greedy bunch of tunnel-grubbers. Rather than restoring the balance of life, it had just made everything worse. The beasts in the convoy?s sacrifice was necessary, of course, but the moles had offset all the good of it. A landslide born of the Mother would have been a condemnation of the sins of the beasts in the convoy, but the revelation of its true cause cast that in to doubt. If this was not the will of the Mother, how could he be sure that their deaths were right? Had they really been undeserving? If death was truly so capricious, how could he really know that their death and his life represented the guiding paw of the All-Mother?

?Are you all right??

Istvan nearly jumped out of his fur at the quiet, frightened query. While he was engrossed in his thoughts Nyika had followed him in to the location he had thought secluded.

?Completely fine! I am as always a rock of sense among you blasphemers,? answered the otter, his voice noticeably shriller than its normal monotone. ?Don?t you have better things to do than creep around beasts who want to be alone??

The cat sat down next to him. ?You?re not alone. Not with all those haunts who follow you around. Do you even know their names, all these beasts you?ve killed over the seasons??

Istvan sighed. ?Do you have a reason for following me, other than to disparage my faith? I have heard that question so many times before it has become tiresome. Of course I do not. Do you remember the name of every beast you have ever known? I... help them. That is what matters.?

She looked askance at him. ?Are you sure you?re all right? You?re shaking.?

Ignoring her question, the otter turned to face the wildcat and asked her, ?Tell me, if you truly can do what you claim: what do the spirits say of the All-Mother??

Nyika seemed to pause for a moment to think, looking Istvan over with wide, searching eyes that disquieted him more than he would admit.

?Why do you ask that??

After a pause, Istvan replied, "So that I can know if you are telling the truth. I of course only ask this to ascertain if you are a barefaced blasphemer."

Nyika's tail swished in annoyance. "Then why ask me? Whether or not my truth is irrelevant; I know what I'm about. Do you? Truly?"

"Because you may be something great! A miracle unseen since the long-past glory days. If you are real, I want to see you achieve your full potential and be a beacon of light to believers."

"I'm no beacon of light," she said, casting her gaze to the snow. "Why do you think you need one, if you are so sure in your faith?"

The otter scuffed the ground with his boot, then threw up his paws. "Because I have suffered seventeen seasons of being shunned because I chose what I know is right. Because I have never managed to convince another beast that this is true. And to think that I could be wrong..."

"Why is your faith so important to you?"

Istvan sighed, and after a moment of thought, said, "It's all I have."

Nyika closed her eyes, hesitating. Then she spoke. "I have heard the dead talk about her, the All-Mother. What, I cannot discern, but they do speak of her."

The otter wasn?t sure why, but following those words he lifted the wildcat up in to the air and squeezed her tightly until her miaows of distress brought him back to his senses.

?I?m sorry,? he said, setting her down. ?I?m not sure what came over me.?

?It?s okay. We should probably be getting back to the others though,? replied the cat.

She began walking back, Istvan trailing her. His head was now awash in golden light, the dark fog that had briefly enveloped it lifted. He should not have even thought of doubting the All-Mother. She was all-knowing and all-powerful. If she used rather... unconventional pawns to help restore the balance of life, it was not the concern of her loyal priest. His duty was to carry out her will, not question it. As long as he did so, she would continue to shower him with grace.

He needed all the grace he could get at this point, he thought as he rejoined the others without them acknowledging his presence. This ice fishing represented a serious challenge not to his spiritual well-being, but his physical body and the Mother?s continued use of it.

The fact of the matter was, Istvan did not know how to swim.

It was a fact that rankled him every time he thought of it; an otter unable to use the Mother?s unique gift to his kind. It was like a smooth-backed hedgehog, or a stupid fox, or a mole that could not... perhaps it was best not to think about moles for the time being. But the point still stood: he was a failure to his species, and he did not deserve the blessings the All-Mother reserved for them.

On the other paw, what reason did he have to worry? The Mother had saved him from a landslide, surely she had some other purpose in mind for him than to die in a frozen lake soon afterward. He would have to trust her will, as he always had.

?So tell me,? he asked Gashrock as they clambered on down the slope again. ?Where did you learn to sew skin as easily as you do cloth? You did quite a fine job on Cookie.?

The rat shrugged. "It ain't easy. Reckon I learned on Poko, sort of, but Cookie ain't a whiner so even if I'm a bit rubbish, he'll say it's all right, just for a lark. Though Mum an' Dad'd be right proud, I reckon. Searats are always moanin' about needin' to be patched up. Only I didn't think they meant it all literal, like."

?So that?s all you know of the healing arts then? Not, say, what to do if somebeast?s lungs fill with water?? Istvan scratched his scarred arm nervously.

?No. I think Zevka said that she learned somethin? like that at that fancy Ak-a-derm-y of hers. Why??

?Guardsbeast Vanessa and I are going to be diving in an unfamiliar, dark, frozen lake. If we come out entirely unharmed it will only be by the grace of the Mother,? he replied, ignoring the reference to the pine marten. He had his pride.

?Yer otters. Ain?t yer built fer this kinda thing?? said Gashrock incredulously.

The group reached the shining plain of ice that was to be their larder, and began gingerly stepping on to its slippery surface. Istvan looked away from the rat to help Nyika when she seemed about to fall, and noticed that Poko shot him a dirty look when he did so. He did not understand the hostile relationship that seemed to have sprung up between the group?s two youngest vermin, but the ferret had at least been somewhat receptive to his talk about the eternal destiny of her parents. He would have to speak with her about that later, preferably when her older, scarred guardian was not around.

Turning back to Gashrock, he continued, ?It?s nothing to do with that. The Mother would not appreciate the life of her most loyal priest being thrown away in a probably fruitless effort to acquire some small amount of food.?

?You have a very high opinion of yourself,? cut in Zevka. ?To be perfectly all right with the rest of us starving because you want to preserve your precious little life. Are you sure that this is because of your invisible friend, or are you just a coward??

Not dignifying her jibes with a response, Istvan stalked away to where the remainder of the Guard had gathered.

?Ah, Corporal Istvan. Good of you to join us,? said Noonahootin. ?Guardsbeast Vanessa and I were discussing how best to make a hole for you two to dive through.?

The tattooed otter swallowed, then drew his knife. ?Of course. I will first ask the All-Mother to bless this endeavor, and grant us protection and success.?

?Do so quickly then, Corporal. We have mouths to feed.?

Istvan knelt and stared across the frozen lake. He extended his arm out, and drew a thin red line on it with his blade.

?Mother,? he whispered, ?You know the heart of your truest follower, and he does not demand favors of you. All I ask is that if it is your will for me to survive this trial, may you shower your grace upon me... and my companion.?

He watched the crimson splatter on the ice in silence. It reminded him of broken glass covered with the same precious liquid, piled on a tray next to a reclining figure who screamed curses at the world.

?You plannin? to sit there all day, Inkpan? Get over ?ere and ?elp me with this boulder.? Cookie?s impatient demand cut through the otter?s reverie.

The ferret was struggling to lift a large rock that lay by the shore of the lake. Istvan found it odd that such an obviously strong beast could not do it on his own. That stomach wound of his must have been more damaging than he let on. So the old fighter had at least one weakness, then. That would be good to remember for when it came time for him to pay for his crimes. 

The pair?s combined strength managed to lift the stone and awkwardly shuffle back over to the group, where with a great effort they heaved it above their heads and then let it fall. It crashed through the ice with a loud splash that showered the otter and ferret with freezing water. Istvan jumped out of the way, biting back a curse. Cookie didn?t bother to restrain himself.

After a fruitless effort to shake himself dry, the tattooed otter stepped back to the rim of the hole. The dark mouth stared back at him. He shivered, and not from the cold.

?Yer lookin' a wee bit green in the gills there, Inkface.?

For the second time in an hour Istvan started violently.

?Why does everybeast find it necessary to sneak up on me today??

Vanessa snickered. ?Ah dinnae know aboot any other beasties, but et would do yae good to be shaken up a bit. An' ye stil havenae told me why yer lookin' at that hole like a scared kit. ?

?I suppose...? the otter sighed. He had no choice, did he? Vanessa was going to be down there with him, and she might well be his only chance of survival. ?I suppose you should know this, though I would appreciate you not shouting it out to all and sundry. The truth is, I was never taught how to swim.?

She stared at him, then broke into incredulous laughter, her sarcastic voice ringing out loudly.

"Och, 'an otter who cannae swim. Noo Ah've seen everythin'. Wot's the matter, were ye so interested in learnin' about 'ow tae bleed other beasties that ye didnae bother tae learn anythin' else? Mah faither taught when Ah was a wee babe!"

?Yes, well, some of us were not so fortunate as to have that opportunity,? he hissed back, a move he immediately regretted. By the grace of the All-Mother, why did her words have to provoke him like that? The events of seasons past were just that, and would remain so.

?I apologize. That outburst was impolite of me. Please, I am not in the habit of begging, but I will tell you this: if you help me to survive this endeavor, I will owe you the greatest of all possible debts. The life-debt, that same sacred debt that the Mother carries for all of us. Nothing will stop me from assuring that the obligation is repaid.?

?Bloody ?gates, yer really scairt, ain?t ye? Dinnae worry laddie, Ah'll hold yer paw. At least, ye better hope Ah will. Hahahaha!  ?

That was that, then. Nothing left but to consign himself to the paws of the All-Mother. And those of Guardsbeast Vanessa.

Istvan thought wistfully of bodies strewn across a mountainside, and wondered why life couldn?t always be so simple.