Amma loves all her children. It pained her to see them lost, to see them suffer, to see them in conflict, dying, and killing. Perhaps that is why she closed her eyes when the endless war began and perhaps that is why she has not ceased weeping.

*****

The woods within the Cairn valley were vast and beautiful. They were even a bit magical to the young girl who called them her playground. Light streamed down from the treetops in ethereal beams and caught on floating wisps of pollen and dust. This place was quiet in a way that the village never managed even at night, and yet there was an unmistakable music of life that radiated from all around.

There was a chorus of leaves rustling in the wind and light trills of bird song, small animals scurried almost, but never entirely, silent, and the almost forgettable chirp of insects that would all be missed if absent. The forest was never silent; it was quiet. Maya’s mother called it the perfect place for focused and peaceful contemplation. This was why she always trained Maya in a glade that exemplified all these features. Peace and quiet weren’t all that interesting to a child.

The peace of the woods made the joyful laughter of a young girl easy to hear within the trees. It was not the ancient song of life but there was still music to be found in it. The music was cut short.

Maya did not mean to wander so far into the forest but things like that tended to happen when chasing celties. You never quite knew where they would lead you. She wasn’t lost—even if she didn’t know exactly the way back to the glade, Maya would find it—and she wasn’t scared—the forests were as much her home as the village. She wasn’t, however, looking forward to the scolding she would revive from mama. Which was why Maya shifted uncertainly on her little feet wondering what to do.

Could she hurry back before mama caught her absence? Unlikely. Mama was probably out tracking her down already. Then should she keep running through the forest? Maybe, but Maya was tired from the morning of training and play, and she could feel her tummy rumbling for lunch. Home then it was.

Once the decision was made the actions to take were simple. Maya bolted up a nearby tree with practice and enthusiasm that only a child could muster and was soon at the top overlooking the tips of pines and aspen. Not far in the distance, Maya could spot the unnaturally cleared fields surrounding a cluster of homes and the smoke of cook fires gently rising to the sky. Target set, Maya grinned and descended the tree in what was little more than a controlled fall; snatching at branches to slow down.

It was a task that required focus and quick reflexes to spot and then grab the oncoming branches accurately. A flighty child, Maya might have been, but she gave the task the focus it was due, and what little could be spared remained focused on the cook fires and thoughts of lunch. Perhaps then, it was only natural that she did not notice the man below—a hunter with a powerful bow.

The fast descent of Maya was not quiet. Between the occasional snaps of branches and the unhindered giggling of a young girl, it would have been difficult to miss. The hunter noticed her. He saw the child crashing down the tree in a flurry of ebony locks and nimble ivy limbs. It was a scene in its own right to be sure, but the two protruding horns he spotted made it so much more.

The man was shocked but quick to react. Maya still did not notice him. She did not notice him notch an arrow and pull his bow taught. She did not hear the loud snap as the bow was let loose, nor did she hear the whistle of the arrow's flight. So much was going on and it was all happening so fast after all.

When a massive force intercepted her outstretched arm and made her miss the final branch Maya noticed. She screamed as her arm burst into throbbing, burning, pain and the ground racing towards her became an imminent threat. She hit it in a tangled heap and was grateful that in spite of this fact nothing felt broken. She would have been in a lot more pain then, like the time she broke her arm two summers ago.

In her disorientation from her fall, Maya noticed the arrow protruding from her arm only belatedly and with quite a bit of confusion. Why would there be a branch sprouting from her arm? She then heard the deep footsteps of a powerful man approaching and looked up. Maya finally noticed the hunter.

He was tall and powerfully built with dark brown hair that cast a disconcerting shadow over his bearded face. From his clothing and bow, Maya could tell he was a hunter. Perhaps he had mistaken her for an animal? Boyd had warned her such a thing was possible on a previous misadventure, but Maya somehow doubted this was the case. Though she couldn’t see his face—curled up at his feet as she was—she knew it was filled with contempt.

“Well looky here…” he said almost jovially but a sneer implicit in his tone. “A little monster out playing in the woods. What are you doing out of the Wild Lands?”

Maya didn’t respond and tried to back away. Her small, beaten body was trembling and could only curl up in terror as its pathetic retreat was halted by the tree behind her. Snot and tears began streaming down her face. Her voice was hoarse from her pain and wails when Maya began calling out to her Mama.

The man gripped her arm forcefully and pulled her to her feet before growling in her ear, “Shut up and behave.”

Maya only cried harder, screamed harder so that her voice cracked and her throat was pained but kept on crying out desperately.“Mama! Mama save me! Please, mama-”

He hit her across the cheek cutting her off.

Maya felt her left cheek burn and begin to swell as her head swam incoherently and lights flashed before her eyes. The man wrapped a grubby hand over her face and held her mouth shut. “Quiet.” He commanded. Maya bit him. His blood tasted of iron.

“You little bitch!” He hit her tummy and her legs gave way under her. She was held aloft only by the man's massive hand gripping her face and his other hand digging into her arm. It hurt. It hurt so much. It hur—

“Listen here ya little monster, the bounty doesn’t care if you dead or alive, but I don’t want to haul your corpse through these abysmal woods. I also don’t want to deal with a wild little demon, so here’s what we’re going to do.” He pulled Maya’s face to his and spoke his instructions enunciating every word, spittle flying in her face. “I’m going to tie you up and you're going to let me, and then you're going to follow me all nice and quiet like. Got it?”

Maya’s eyes widened and she tried to nod affirmation, but only managed to squirm in the man's iron grip. He threw her to the ground harshly, making the arrow still logged in her arm jostle about. A yelp escaped her lips only to be muffled by the forest floor. She felt her hands being yanked backwards and the coarse rope wound tightly around them. She heard footsteps approaching.

“Let my daughter go.” Her Mamma’s voice was low and flat, and it made Maya’s heart soar.

“Another demon bitch, eh? My lucky day.” He let Maya go and rose above her.

She heard shuffling, the clang of metal, cursing, hisses, and a grunt. She rolled to her side so that she might see her mama and saw the man falling from her blade.

“Mamma!”

“Sweetie.”

Her Mamma rushed towards her and hurriedly untangled Maya from the bindings before embracing her completely. Maya sniffled and cried anew, this time in relief.

“I know sweetie, I know.”

Her Mamma rubbed her back and continued to whisper soothing noises into her ear, calming Maya down. It was only when her Mamma's arm fell from her back the Maya noticed anything was wrong. She felt a warm wetness sticking her dress to her skin and her mamma’s breath grow shallow then vanish altogether.

When Papa found her that night, the arms around her were frozen and stiff.

*****

Maya hung limply her head swimming in an all too familiar manner. Her eyes wandered unfocused until they met two other eyes; clearwater blue and glistening. They were wide with fear and Maya wanted to help them so much. her body wouldn’t move. Something was stopping her. She focused on the eyes—Erin’s eyes—she watched them stare back at her. They closed for a moment; slowly, as though in acceptance, then returned to staring at Maya. They were swimming with despair and determination, hope and resignation, and they were commanding Maya to do—

Something?

“Enough,” someone was speaking, “the head is proof enough.”

What were they saying? There was a flash as the sun reflected off a polished blade; it quickly descended, and Erin’s beautiful cornflower eyes lost their life and light, turning cold as mama’s arms.

Maya had no more tears, no more screams of despair to beseech the world for mercy. They were all spent a decade ago and the world was merciless. She had failed and there would be no recovery. Just like that. As her peaceful existence fell apart around her, Erin's eyes stared wide and unseeing towards the death and cold reflected in her friend's sulphur depths.