Fell stood alone in the communal tent, trying to calm himself. Outside Fell could hear the singing of his tribe, their voices resounding through the sky. The sky was bright, lit by the frost moon. A great fire had been lit in the centre of the camp, illuminating the surroundings in a bright red light that made it seem like the snow itself was glowing orange. Having already given his axe to Njal, he tidied his unruly hair to the best of his ability. Fell stepped outside and joined his tribesmen. They sat surrounding the great fire, looking up at the full moon and swaying with the song. Seeing Fell step out, the Elder smiled and patted the ground next to her in a motion for him to sit. Complying, Fell sat down on the grass, still wet from the melted snow. The pace of the song picked up, flowing into a chanting rhythm, describing a great fight between an unarmoured warrior and a bear three times the size of the warrior. The song described great blows and quick dodges, with the warrior only just able to survive fighting this wild beast. With his final strength, the warrior sank his blade deep into the bear, finishing the battle.
Fell closed his eyes, swaying to the songs. They flowed into each other, some calm, composing little more than humming, and some deep and powerful, seeming the make the ground itself shake with each cry. Unknown the Fell, the fire responded to these voices, flickering, and growing as the song itself grew. Without realising it, Fell was shouting alongside his tribesmen, stamping his feet with them. The Elders’ voice rose above everyone else’s, chanting and crying out, leading the tribe in their songs.
As the voices grew, and song seemed like it could grow no stronger, the song changed again. This time it was slow and rhythmic, as powerful grunts from the men impacted the still air. The voices became low, the only voice that could clearly be heard was the Elders’. She sung is a language fell did not recognise, yet it seemed ancient, and powerful. The tribe seemed to echo her words, and Fell found himself doing so as well, despite not knowing what he was saying. The rhythm grew even stronger, each thump of a footstep sounding like an anvil hit alongside it. The fire roared, seemingly large enough to burn Fell. And yet he felt no pain, instead he felt strong, stronger than he had ever felt. Heat flowed through his body, empowering him. Unbeknownst to all, underneath his furs a warm glow shone from within him. The song reached its peak, the Elder’s chants becoming lower in volume. Slowly, Fell felt the heat and power within him recede but not disappear, the fire declining but not snuffing out, instead becoming a low ember. The tribe opened their eyes, they all stared at the Elder and Fell next to her. The Elder nodded towards Ljos, who stepped towards her grandmother and passed her a necklace made of braided and treated leather – a songstrand. Lowering her head respectfully, Ljos stood back. Next came Njal, who brought with him a simple bone charm with a large hole in the top. The bone charm was shaped like a horn and curved back on itself, multiple ridges could clearly be felt along it. Fell carefully undid the knot on his songstrand and fed the charm onto it. Bringing it around his neck, he retied the knot, securing the songstrand to himself.
To this the chanting from the Elder which had previously been subdued began to increase in volume and pace once again, leading the tribe in song. She praised the boat for its endurance, and she praised the seal for its perseverance. She praised the bear for its strength, and she praised the ram for its resourcefulness. Finally, she praised the cryophoenix for its sacrifice.
After this, the Elder stopped chanting, and instead began to hum a soft tune. Following her lead, the tribe echoed her song, the previous rhythmic chanting and stomping of feet smoothly becoming a soft wordless hum. Eventually, the Elder stopped humming, her eyes staring into the now calm fire. The ceremony of the frost moon had ended.
The ceremony completed; the tribesmen gather around to ate. Unlike the usual dubious meat stew, this meal consisted of an entire Elnuk, the meat enough to feed the tribe of 40 odd for many weeks. As such every tribesman could eat as much as he wanted. Many of the tribesmen congratulated Fell on becoming an adult, for any coming of age ceremony was of great importance to the small tribe of Notai. Njal came over to congratulate Fell as well, gifting Fell with his “new” axe. A rare grin swept across the face of the grizzled warrior as he winked at Fell.
Fell settled down near the fire, savouring the juices from the freshly cut steak. His sister Ljos joined him, sitting down on a upturned wooden crate. Fell saw her and smiled, and then pointed at his songstrand around his neck
“I take is this is why you haven’t been letting me stay in the tent recently” he smiled. Grinning slightly, Ljos ruffled his red hair in response.
She paused before speaking, then smiled. “And I take it that’s the same axe I've seen you sleeping with.”
To this Fell could only look downwards, avoiding her eyes and a smug grin he knew would follow. The two chattered for a while, interrupted by the occasional tribesmen congratulating Fell. The tribe celebrated and ate under the light of the full moon, and eventually people began to separate and go to their furs to sleep.
A few hours passed, and by now Fell was one of the last awake as he watched the flames of the bonfire dance. The night was quiet and Fell felt calm listening to the crackling of the wood and breathing in the wood smoke scented air. A light amount of snow began to fall, landing on the exposed grass but quickly melting. Fell looked up at the moon as the snow floated downwards.
The wind was beginning to pick up, as did the snow. More and more snow landed, quickly covered the ground and causing the fire to die down. Unwilling to climb into his furs while wet thanks to the snow, Fell walked over to Njal's tent. As an Adult, he was no longer able to sleep in the communal tent. As he had yet to make his own, Njal had allowed him to sleep in his spare tent, where he normally stored the tools and weapons he was working on. Carefully stepping over and moving the metal tools and forging equipment that was scattered haphazardly around the tent to make space for himself, Fell wrapped himself up in his sleeping furs. Despite the lack of a fire, he did not feel cold, instead he felt like he was in front of Njal’s forge, watching him fix and forge weapons and tools. A wave of exhaustion hit him, and the last thing he thought of was how quickly the snow and wind had grown.
Hey, author here. Sorry this one is short, but next ones a big one. Thanks for reading
