Child of Mara

Trapped

Mar is climbing a tree. The wet green leaves slapping their arms as they race a golden monkey through the canopy. Suddenly the tree opens up and there's nothing but the night sky.

Mar's heart aches inexplicably and they reach a hand up. Up there is freedom. If they could only just...

With a gasp, Mar wakes up. There's the comfortable warmth of being under a blanket in the cold. Strange to dream of the jungle when they're with the Mother Tribe.

A scratching noise makes Mar poke a head out from the blanket.

It's not the warm yurt Mar expected. It's not the Mother Tribe. It's Tae, scratching away at another book.

Silent as a fox, Mar creeps closer.

It's not scribbles this time, it's art. A book on the side has a unmistakable drawing of Tae's arm, the ring of circular teeth marks clearly rendered. On the book in front of him, Tae is sketching a puffin. It's cute head upturned towards a starry sky. It's much better than the time Mar tried to draw a orchid to show Indigo.

With the Literan engrossed, Mar creeps to the other side of the room to poke at some of the objects. There are a few cups that looks like they are made of ice, but when Mar touches them they aren't cold. One had a white powder it in that Mar sniffs. It doesn't smell like anything so they move on.

There are a lot of books. Carefully, Mar peeks inside a few, however they're filled with that same boring scribbles from before. There's a board on the side of a large cabinet that has a rainbow of different bugs pinned to it and Mar delicately brushes the wings of a scarlet butterfly they recognize from the jungle. The wing falls off and Mar flinches, looking over their shoulder at Tae, but the man is still engrossed in his drawing.

Leaving the insects, Mar opens a box in a corner. Alongside some dull blue fabric and white fabric strips are Mar's clothes. The almost shimmering grey spider silk tunic with it's fur lining helps stave of the cold of the stone room as Mar slips it back on. The caribou leather pants and shoes make Mar's heart tighten, thinking of Mother Tribe. The pants are creeping up Mar's ankle and Antler'd promised a new pair before Mar's next birthday. Who knows if Mar will ever even see their Mother Tribe family again? What with Father Tribe do when Mar doesn't show up in the Original Cave? Are there even words to describe the horrible things that have happened?

Mar's nose itches again as the emotions build up, this time, however, it twists into hot anger. Mar's never felt so angry before, not even when Bird-chaser made fun of them for not being able to hear the Father Mind.

Reaching up on the shelf full of books, Mar yanks them down. The books make sounds like bird wings before they crash to the floor. Mar grabs one of the not-ice cups and throws it against the looked door. It statters with a sharper sound than they expected and Mar jumps along side Tae.

"No! Stop, don't do that! Those are expensive!" The Literan man scrambles to his feet and Mar recovers, grabbing another cup.

They raise it above their head and Tae freezes, his eyes flicking from the object to Mar's face. He holds up his hands, face pale. "Please don't throw that," he says in a strianed voice.

"I want to go home," Mar says, surprised how their voice wobbles.

"I know," Tae murmurs, his smooth voice heavy with sympathy, "but I can't let you out, I can't open the door any more than you can."

Mar presses their lips together. That's right, the old one said they were locked in. Locked like the door to Mother Tribes sharp spears. Mar lowers the cup, rubbing their fingers over the slick surface. "Why did they take me away?" Mar asks.