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Irin: Chapter one
Chapter one: a visitor
Irin used to wander by the clear ocean during days when any other activity would make her grandmother proud. “Be careful of the sea” her grandmother warned, ranting on about the dangers of Gareda invaders, blustery waves which at any moment could toss her off rocks or every other fret imaginable. “I’ll be fine grandma. I always am” Irin sighed, clenching her fist behind her back, trying hard to not mutter a word that could cause a fight. Her grandmother, Eva Skalil, always had a word to speak about dangers women face as if irin didn’t already know of them. It felt as if grandmother thought she lacked intelligence which Irin constantly felt need to contradict. She could handle most opinions but in regard to her intellect, she would always intervene.
Now she sat in the dim lit kitchen peeling beans which hurt her nimble fingers. The kitchen fire at least warmed her but it felt nothing like the warm breeze of the relin sea. The sea understood her. Its waves felt welcoming as if beconning her to their depths. She never left Relin, a country of seafaring people who welcome magic, peace and unity in every situation.
In the village schools she was taught rules of servitude. As a woman she would soon be expected to marry and school taught her the art of marriage. Long days cooking, cleaning, writing and dancing were pounded in her brain like a Relin magic drum. Relin drums warned of raiders and kept the country from invaders. Drummers chant words of ancient magic sacrament to ward off bad luck, wars and evil. Irin wished she could have been born a boy so she could be skilled in the art of relin magic. She’d only heard rumors of magic sacrament but knew as a woman she’d always be forbidden to learn the skills. As a child the village boys would tease her. “I learned to call the fish” gabe would boast, showing off his intricate drum. “Bet you wish to learn that. Pity you’re just a girl” he’d taunt. Irin shrugged it off like a piece of dirt but still the words stuck. Why couldn’t women learn sea magic? After all, women are just as important to society as men. Irin knew her mouth always got her in trouble yet she felt the need to intervene whenever trouble arose.
“Are the beans done” grandmother walked in the kitchen and grabbed the poker to stoke the fire.
“Yes”
“You’ll need to bake the fish next. We are having visitors for dinner.”
Irin rolled her eyes. Certainly this meant grandmother would attempt to convince another family that Irin would make a suitable wife for their son. Last...
Irin used to wander by the clear ocean during days when any other activity would make her grandmother proud. “Be careful of the sea” her grandmother warned, ranting on about the dangers of Gareda invaders, blustery waves which at any moment could toss her off rocks or every other fret imaginable. “I’ll be fine grandma. I always am” Irin sighed, clenching her fist behind her back, trying hard to not mutter a word that could cause a fight. Her grandmother, Eva Skalil, always had a word to speak about dangers women face as if irin didn’t already know of them. It felt as if grandmother thought she lacked intelligence which Irin constantly felt need to contradict. She could handle most opinions but in regard to her intellect, she would always intervene.
Now she sat in the dim lit kitchen peeling beans which hurt her nimble fingers. The kitchen fire at least warmed her but it felt nothing like the warm breeze of the relin sea. The sea understood her. Its waves felt welcoming as if beconning her to their depths. She never left Relin, a country of seafaring people who welcome magic, peace and unity in every situation.
In the village schools she was taught rules of servitude. As a woman she would soon be expected to marry and school taught her the art of marriage. Long days cooking, cleaning, writing and dancing were pounded in her brain like a Relin magic drum. Relin drums warned of raiders and kept the country from invaders. Drummers chant words of ancient magic sacrament to ward off bad luck, wars and evil. Irin wished she could have been born a boy so she could be skilled in the art of relin magic. She’d only heard rumors of magic sacrament but knew as a woman she’d always be forbidden to learn the skills. As a child the village boys would tease her. “I learned to call the fish” gabe would boast, showing off his intricate drum. “Bet you wish to learn that. Pity you’re just a girl” he’d taunt. Irin shrugged it off like a piece of dirt but still the words stuck. Why couldn’t women learn sea magic? After all, women are just as important to society as men. Irin knew her mouth always got her in trouble yet she felt the need to intervene whenever trouble arose.
“Are the beans done” grandmother walked in the kitchen and grabbed the poker to stoke the fire.
“Yes”
“You’ll need to bake the fish next. We are having visitors for dinner.”
Irin rolled her eyes. Certainly this meant grandmother would attempt to convince another family that Irin would make a suitable wife for their son. Last...
