Beginning at the End (Moon Child Trilogy: Book One)

Beginning at the End

  Moon Child Trilogy

  Book One

  By

  Sandra Lang

  * * * * *

  Copyright © 2013 by Sandra Lang

  All rights reserved by the Author

  Cover by Vila Design

  https://www.viladesign.net

  This novel is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  * * * * *

  There are not enough Thank You’s in the world I could give to my parents Bill and Carol Lang for their continued support of my writing and for allowing me to live with them while I wrote my novel. I love you both and I could never thank you enough.

  I would also like to thank my brother Billy for giving me the push and advice I needed when this novel became overwhelming. You are amazing and I appreciate you more than words could convey.

  And finally, to my dear significant other Nick Nikolaev for all of his support. Thank you for being so understanding throughout this whole process and for giving me the opinion I needed to hear, even when it was not what I wanted to hear.

  * * * * *

  Chapter One

  The celebration of the Rising Sun is sacred to my people. After living in the darkness of the tundra for three straight moon cycles, the rising of the sun – and the signal of the forthcoming spring – is a blessed sight. My people worship the spirit of the sun above all other spirits and we begin the celebration at the beginning of the waking hours the day before the actual rising and do not stop until late the following morning. We eat what food we can spare before the journey back to our main village. We drink the arctic wine that has been fermenting all winter long. We dance until we nearly fall over from exhaustion.

  I sit with my family and watch as the members of my tribe dance merrily and laugh gaily. It is strange being back with my tribe. I left four summers ago to undertake the journey to become the Wise Woman of my tribe and returned last fall. In the time I was away, so much changed. I came home to learn that my sister had a child and my grandfather passed from our world and into the Spirit World. New children were born. Elders passed into the Spirit World. Couples bound themselves together for life. The world had continued moving while I was away; just as I knew it would, with or without me. Not enough changed, however.

  All winter the whispers from before I left still followed me. I still see the wary glances in my direction. Even on this night – even with my new position in the tribe – I am still the odd one. Like before, it is all too much. Yet unlike before, I can now look past it.

  I stand to leave when my sister Sarali grabs the sleeve of my thick hide coat. “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “I am just going. Do not worry,” I say with a small smile. She nods, understanding my tolerance level has been met. She lets her gloved hand drop into her lap without saying another word.

  It is not that I cannot handle these celebrations; it is that I do not want to. Too many people crowded into a space too small to confine us all. It is overwhelming and it always has been. I savor the open spaces to be clear of people. Preferring the solitary over the confined has always been my way. So I walk away from the safety of the village and out toward the edge of my world.

  Every fall, my tribe migrates north to live in the tundra at the top of the world. The tradition’s beginning has been long lost to the passage of time. Yet because of tradition, we continue to weather the harsh winters in huts of ice and snow. The others favor living in the village by the bay during the spring and summer. For me, living surrounded by the darkness is comforting.

  With only moon light to guide me, I find my way to the edge of the ice cliff that constitutes the end of my world. Cautiously, I check the snow and ice beneath up to the edge of the cliff. When I am sure it will hold my weight (though one can never be too sure), I sit down and dangle my feet off the lip. Far below me is the frozen ocean and far beyond me is the gentle curve of the horizon haloed by the large band of stars.

  The moon in the clear night sky steadily moves down to the horizon while the sun below is making its way upward. They will pass each other as one sets and the other rises. I like to pretend that they kiss as they pass each other. Although I am just projecting my own fantasy onto the two guardians of our tribe, I prefer it this way. It is both the most tragic and romantic love story I can think of. But even spirits deserve love, right?

  Crunching snow draws my attention from the horizon. There are only a handful of people in the world it could be. I pick the most likely person and say, “Tala, you never come to see the sunrise.” The girl is my age and related to me through the binding of my sister to her older brother. She is the only person brave enough to come out here, even though she would much rather be eyeing the cousin of the future Chief of our tribe.

  “I am not Tala.”

  My breath catches in my throat at the sound of his voice. I do not have the pleasure of speaking with him often enough to ever truly get used to the distinct cadence. Knowing full well who it is, I look over my shoulder at him – just to see if my ears do not truly deceive me. And I am not wrong. Tarok stands a few feet behind me with his arms behind his back, likely clamped together at the wrists, and his face trained in the warrior’s reserve to keep his emotions hidden from my view.

  “Oh, I did not think you would be out here,” I say as my way of apology.

  “Stranger things have happened. May I?” he says, gesturing to the empty space next to me.

  I could not say no even if I wanted to. My brain is no longer working with my mouth. He takes my silence as a sign that it is okay and sits. My eyes follow his movement trying to process what is happening. Surely he is not actually sitting next to me. Surely this is all a dream. I discretely pinch myself and pain flares beneath the pinched skin. My hands become clammy in my gloves, my cheeks flare with heat. Tarok, the next Chief of our tribe, is sitting next to me.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt out.

  “This is the best spot for the sunrise. I guess I should not be surprised that someone else found it.”

  “I can leave if you would like to be alone…”

  He looks over at me. “No, you were here first. I hope you do not mind the intrusion.”

  I shake my head, unable to think of anything else to say and not wanting to fill the silence.

  “You have changed since the last time I saw you.”

  “You see me nearly every day.” Unless I am truly as invisible as I think I am, I add mentally.

  “I meant from before you left. There is something different about you that I cannot put my finger on.”

  “I am four winters older, if that helps.”

  “A little, but that is not it.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye and the corner of his lips pull up a little. So rarely does the reserve break that this gesture takes me by surprise. “Especially since I am four summers older as well.”

  “You look older,” I say, quickly wishing I could take it back. In my own mind, it sounds insulting. If it were anyone else I was talking to, I would not have cared about the comment. But I am talking to the future Chief and arguably the most powerful man in my tribe.

  His deadpan stare makes me cringe. He reaches up to rub the tuft of black hair on his chin. “I should. I am going to be twenty summers. I would not get any respect if I still looked like that sixteen summer boy you last saw.”

  I sigh with relief and let my shoulders slump forward. “To be honest, I did not recognize you when I came back.”


  “Really? I recognized you immediately.”

  “I am not that hard to miss.” I look forward in hopes of ending the conversation before it goes down a path I am not willing to follow.

  Instead, he chooses a different path that I am not expecting. “So, Moon Child, why were you gone for so long?”

  I bristle at the nickname the tribe has given me. As true as it may be, I still do not like it. “Do you want the honest truth or a lie?”

  He tilts his head to look at me as he leans back on his arms to stare up at the stars. “Is there such a thing as an unhonest truth?”

  “Of course there is,” I reply.

  “Then I will have the honest truth, if you are willing to give it.”

  A small smile crosses my lips involuntarily. “One day I may tell you. But this morning, I came to watch the sun rise in the sky, not to talk.”

  Before his reserve returns, he offers me another smile. “Good.”

  We wait in comfortable silence until the moon begins to dip on the horizon and the sun begins to rise. When I see them meet halfway and for that split second I see them touch, I smile.

  “Ah, there it is,” says Tarok.

  When the guardians resume their journey, I look over at him to see he is looking back at me. The newly risen sunlight bathes his deeply tanned skin in such a way that he glistens. “There what is?”

  “The smile. It is so rare that I think it is better than watching the sun rise after three cycles of darkness.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. I tip my chin down to my chest and let my hair fall to cover my blush.

  “I should give you the honest truth of my being out here,” he says, drawing my attention so that he can see my face once more. “I saw you walking out here, knowing you were heading toward my spot. I was not going to join you at first.”

  “What changed your mind?” I ask meekly.

  His mouth smirks, but his eyes smile. “Do you want the honest truth or a lie?”

  “Using my own words against me, now?” I say, giving him a hard look that I do not truly mean. I pause for a moment and pretend to think over my options. “Hmm. I think I will take the lie.”

  He smiles and leans closer to me as if to whisper a secret. “I wanted to watch the sunrise.”

  My cheeks flush again as a shy, yet surprised smile takes control of my mouth.

  Tarok lets loose a breath of laughter and stands up, offering his hand out to me. “We should get back to the village.”

  I hesitantly take his hand and allow him to help me stand. I immediately pull my hand from his, nearly missing the flash of loss that crosses his eyes before his warrior’s reserve covers it.

  We walk toward the village in silence with the sun at our backs leading our way across the ice. Tarok’s words replay in my mind. He wanted to watch the sunset… which he said was the lie. Was he saying he came to speak with me? My heart beats a little quicker. Has he finally noticed me?

  When the village comes into view, Tarok breaks the silence. “We should do this again. It was pleasant.”

  “Well, you know where to find me during the next sunrise.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile again. I like this smile and wish he would wear it more. “I meant before then.”

  I am caught by surprise and stop for a second before walking forward again. “Oh. In that case, I am not hard to find.”

  “I know.”

  I feel another blush rising in my face. I let my hair fall from behind my ear to cover my face from his view. I do not know what to say, so I say nothing at all.

  “Oh, and Wise Woman,” he says, “I may need a new spear for the Hunt this summer.”

  I frown. “What happened to your last one?”

  “It broke,” he says with a shrug.

  “You had best stop breaking them or I will not allow you a new one.”

  “Wait, are you even supposed to be working with your father?”

  I stop walking, sink into a hip, and cross my arms. “I am the Wise Woman. I will do whatever I please.”

  He settles into a stance with his hands behind his back once again. “Then I have another reason to seek you out.”

  “What is the first?”

  “One day I may tell you.” He tips his head forward and places his fist over his heart in the traditional greeting/departing gesture of a warrior. “Good night, Akari.”

  I touch my forehead with my fingertips and pull my hand outward, palm open. “Good morning, Tarok.”

  We part ways; he to Rising Sun House and I to Sharp Stone. Everything that has happened since I left the celebration feels like a dream. Once again I pinch myself just to feel the pain blossom between my fingers. No, I am not dreaming.

  In the tundra, we live in huts made of ice and snow. Each House sets aside a bit of land to build their igloos so they can remain a family. Our land contains only two huts: one for my uncle and his family and one for mine. Our House is small compared to the others, but that means little to us. We keep ourselves to ourselves and prefer it that way.

  Inside, my parents still sleep on their shared wooden platform. I move as quietly as I can to lay down on my own. I settle beneath the blankets and furs and nestle into my pillow. My eyes close and I start to fall asleep when I hear the shifting of the wooden platform across from mine. I groan as my mother calls me to wake. I listen to my father’s steps as he leaves the hut to meet with my uncle and cousins, leaving us women to prepare the meal while they gather supplies for our move.

  My aunt Ruki joins us soon after the men leave and helps my mother who is beginning to cook. Mother calls me to wake up again, despite my obvious reluctance.

  “You should not have stayed up so late, young one,” Mother scolds.

  I give another protesting groan and push back the furs and blankets.

  “Who was up late?” my bond-sister Tala says as she and my sister walk into the hut. My mother hugs each of them in turn. Tala sits herself on the edge of my platform before lying down and wrapping her arms around me. “Was it you?”

  “Who else would it have been?” I say with a yawn.

  She releases me and rolls onto her back. “Who were you with?”

  “Who says I was with anyone?”

  Tala’s pretty face smirks. “That pretty little blush all over your face. So, who was it?”

  “Oh leave her alone, Tala,” Sarali says. “If she wants to tell us who she spent the sunrise with, then she will tell us.”

  Tala whines as she gets off my sleeping platform. “I bet she was with a man.”

  Sarali looks over at me questioningly. “You have been home for only four cycles and now you are finding yourself a mate?”

  “I am not looking for a mate. I have duties to my tribe that do not include bearing children,” I protest.

  “I should hope so,” my mother interjects. “You did not spend four summers training to be the Wise Woman just to come home and bed the first man who shows interest.”

  “I am not looking to bed any man, whether he is interested or not. Why are none of you listening to me?”

  “If you ask me,” Ruki says, “Tala will be next. And I do not mean to cause offense, Akari, but I believe my sons will be bound before you are.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Ruki,” I say with an appreciative smile before glowering at the other three women. “At least someone here understands that my duty comes before my personal feelings.”

  Tala seemingly hears none of what I said. “So there is someone you have feelings for?”

  I glare at the girl. “Tala, how is it that of all I say, you choose to twist those particular words?”

  Tala shrugs. “It is a gift, my sister. And a very special one at that.”

  The four of us roll our eyes at the young woman. Sarali moves to sit on my platform, holding onto her ever growing belly.

  “Where is your son?” I ask, suddenly reminded of his lack of presence.

  “Learning to be a man with his father and grandfathe
rs,” she says happily. “It is getting hard to keep up with him and not become overly tired myself.”

  “Boys are often more difficult to manage than girls,” my mother says expertly.

  “When I was pregnant with Reven, Aros was just learning to walk. He was always on the move. I relied heavily on Ara keeping him entertained,” Ruki adds.

  “Mother will help you, Sarali,” Tala says. “You just need to ask her.”

  “You could just let him run around with the other children of Deep Forest,” Mother suggests.

  “You do not think he is too young, Mother?” Sarali asks.

  “He is a strong little one that will get into trouble. But you must let him learn and grow.”

  “I will talk with Sirak about it,” Sarali says placing her hand onto her belly.

  The men of Sharp Stone return with leather strips in their hands and baskets to carry our items back to the main village in a few days. My family gathers around and eats the stew my mother and Ruki prepared.

  “Little one, you were out late,” my father says.

  “Yes, I was watching the sunrise,” I reply.

  “Who were you with?” he asks, giving me a pointed look. Tala snickers and Sarali covers her blatant smile behind her hand.

  “Why do you all assume I was with someone? I cannot enjoy my first sunrise back home by myself?”

  “You are unintended, Akari. With your place as Wise Woman, many men will want you to share their beds.”

  “I do not want to share anyone’s bed, Father. My duty is what must come first.”

  My father smiles at me. “That is what I want to hear, my child.”

  After eating, Tala, Sarali, and I walk through the village toward their House, Deep Forest. Tala and I walk with our arms linked, enjoying the newly risen sun.

  “You are eighteen winters now, Akari. It is time that you develop feelings for a man in our tribe,” Tala says.

  “You and I are the same age. Have you found a man to share your bed?” I retort.

  Her face reddens. “No, I have not.”

  Sarali rolls her eyes. “Tala, you watch Merick like a hawk. Do not think we have not noticed.”

  “Am I that obvious?” she asks quietly.

  “Only to us. Though I doubt Merick has noticed,” I add.

  “How do I go about getting him to notice?”

  Sarali and I look at each other. “This one is yours, sister,” I say.

  “Why me? Sirak noticed me long before I ever noticed him,” Sarali protests.

  “You are the woman with child among us three. I have been away from home for four summers, when was I supposed to have learned-”

  “Akari,” a male voice calls interrupting me. We turn our heads to see Tarok and Merick walking toward us. “I did not expect to see you up this early.”

  My sister and bond-sister give me questioning looks. I can already feel my omission swallowing me whole. “It seems that there is no sleep for a person with a family like mine,” I grumble.

  For the sixth time in my entire life, and the fifth since last night, he smiles at me. “It would seem that we are alike in that regard.”

  “Your family wakes you at the worst possible time as well?”

  “That and a future Chief is never without his duty.”

  “I see. Well, we would not want to keep you and Merick from your duties.” I say to end the conversation before it can begin and to hide my omission. The three of us bow our heads and offer our respectful good-byes.

  Merick and Tarok do the same with their own warrior motions. The two men walk off leaving a guilty me about to be interrogated by my sisters.

  “Does not know how to get a man to notice her, right?” Sarali says, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Who were you with again last night?” Tala asks with a smirk.

  I sigh heavily and hang my head in shame. “I went out to the cliffs to be alone and Tarok went to do the same. We simply sat together and watched the sunrise.”

  Sarali gives me an unconvinced look. “He has never acknowledged you before.”

  Even though no truer words could be spoken, they still slice into my heart. “I do find it strange,” I say.

  “I do not think it to be strange,” Tala interjects. “You have grown into a beautiful woman these last four summers. I am surprised he has not made you an offer yet.”

  “We all know why he has not,” I say and walk off toward Deep Forest House.

  Chapter Two