The Holy Gatherers

Several weeks had passed since I became a Holy Gatherer, and the voice from my dream echoed continuously in my mind. It was a comforting whisper, guiding me as I adjusted to my new life. But my experience had been markedly different from the others. While Meme had fought against life-like creatures from the old lands and emerged victorious, wielding the weapon she desired most, Ivy’s journey had taken a dark turn.

Meme recounted Ivy’s tale one afternoon during our training, her brow furrowed with concern. “Ivy was chasing after the mythical sword,” she said, shaking her head. “You know the one—the one that’s said to bleed the goddesses? It’s just a fable, yet she believed it was real.”

“She thought she could handle it, but it led to her downfall,” I replied, recalling the hushed whispers that followed Ivy’s name. “The Goddess of War did not look kindly on her ambition.”

Meme sighed, her expression solemn. “She was stung by the poisonous roots. It was a harsh lesson, but some just don’t know their limits.”

“Do you think she learned anything?” I asked, curiosity piquing within me.

“I hope so,” Meme said, glancing toward the training field where Ivy was practicing. “But she’s been different since then—more withdrawn. The others won’t even look at her.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy for Ivy, despite her earlier arrogance. It seemed she was paying the price for her aggression, while I had been labeled brave but reckless. I was the only one who had walked into the temple alone, disregarding Mother Cora’s advice to stay together. Now, it felt like the privilege of being a sister was a distant memory; I was no longer a sister but a mother in training, and the weight of that title pressed heavily on my shoulders.

Overa was an isolated and hidden community, located at the center of towering mountains, protected by a powerful cloaking spell. Our homes were domed structures made from the very soil of the land, covered in vibrant wildflowers that connected to the roots of the goddess trees we worshiped. The temples of the goddesses sat at the edges of our settlement, majestic and sacred. Each path leading to them was lined with tall grasses, their colors reflecting the sigils of the corresponding goddess. At night, the grasses illuminated softly, collecting prayers from every family in the community.

“Are you ready for today’s training?” Meme asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, though a sense of dread gnawed at me. The year of harvest was upon us, and we were training intensively with the weapons bestowed upon us by the Goddess of War. Yet, with each session, I felt the immense responsibility that came with ownership of my gift.

Training pushed us to our limits, challenging our physical and mental strength. Some of the Holy Gatherers struggled to control their weapons, which seemed to have minds of their own. Others found themselves battling not only their foes but the ghosts of previous owners who clung to their weapons like shadows.

Meme, ever the optimist, threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re so lucky! Your weapon doesn’t run away from you or try to kill you! This is more challenging than being chosen by a goddess!” she exclaimed, panting from her relentless efforts to capture her wayward arrows.

I smiled, trying to uplift her spirits. “Don’t worry; you will get there. You’re learning to control it; just give it time.”

As we sparred, the thin, venomous roots of the goddess trees danced around us, teaching us, testing us, and recording our improvements. I felt their energy surge around me, reminding me that I was part of something greater.

Suddenly, I saw Meme’s arrow speeding toward our direction. “Here I go!” she shouted, determination igniting in her eyes as she sprinted toward it.

With a mighty leap, she jumped high into the air, her hand reaching out to catch her arrow mid-flight. “Got it!” she cried triumphantly, landing gracefully on the ground. The bow floated toward her, hovering momentarily before pausing right in front of her.

As she grasped her bow, a shimmering apparition appeared before her—a ghostly figure that radiated light and warmth. “Well done, brave one,” it said, smiling approvingly. “Your spirit has proven worthy.”

The ghost congratulated her before vanishing, leaving Meme breathless and filled with elation. The sight of her accomplishment drew the attention of the other new Holy Gatherers, who began to gather around her, applauding and chanting her name.

“Meme! Meme!” they cheered, their voices rising in unison, echoing off the temple walls. I joined in, my heart swelling with pride for my friend. Finally, her weapon was hers to rule, and it was a moment worth celebrating.

As the cheers died down, I looked toward Ivy, who was training a distance away. I noticed she had paused, her expression unreadable as she watched the celebration. Despite her previous arrogance, there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze—perhaps longing, perhaps regret.

“Maybe we should invite her over,” I suggested hesitantly, glancing back at Meme. “Ivy needs support too.”

Meme frowned, the joyful spark in her eyes dimming. “After everything she put us through? I don’t know, Tiya. It’s hard to forget what she did.”

“I get that,” I said, feeling torn. “But she’s still one of us. She needs to know she’s not alone, especially after everything she’s been through.”

Meme sighed, biting her lip as she considered my words. “You’re right, but it’s complicated. What if she tries to drag us into her old ways?”

I shook my head, resolute. “I won’t let that happen. We can help her find a better path. That’s what being a Holy Gatherer is all about, isn’t it?”

Meme nodded slowly, her eyes shifting back to Ivy. “Okay, but let’s be cautious.”

With determination, I made my way toward Ivy, who was still practicing alone, her spear slicing through the air with newfound purpose. “Hey, Ivy!” I called out, my voice steady but inviting.

Ivy paused, turning to look at me with an unreadable expression. “What do you want?” she asked, her tone sharper than I expected.

I took a breath, steeling myself. “I just wanted to say congratulations on being back in training. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

She narrowed her eyes, skepticism etched across her face. “And why do you care? You’re just a naïve little girl playing at being a warrior.”

“That’s not true!” I replied, a little hurt by her words. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I just think you deserve to be part of this community again. We could all use a little more strength, and that includes you.”

Ivy’s gaze softened for a moment, but she quickly masked it with defiance. “I don’t need your pity, Tiya. I’m not here for your approval.”

“I’m not pitying you,” I said, my voice earnest. “I genuinely want to see you succeed. We’re all in this together, right?”

Her eyes flashed with something—maybe gratitude or vulnerability, but it was gone before I could grasp it. “I don’t need your help. I’ll prove myself in my own way.”

I nodded, respecting her need for independence but refusing to back down. “You’re stronger than you think, Ivy. Just remember, being strong doesn’t mean doing everything alone.”

Ivy stared at me for a moment longer, her expression shifting as if she were weighing my words. Then she turned back to her training, dismissing me without another word.

As I returned to Meme, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had struck a chord, however slight, with Ivy. “What did she say?” Meme asked, concern evident in her voice.

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” I replied, feeling a strange mix of hope and worry. “But I think she heard me. She just needs time.”

Meme smiled faintly, placing her hand on my shoulder. “You have a good heart, Tiya. Just be careful. Not everyone will appreciate your kindness.”

“I know,” I replied, watching Ivy train with fierce determination. “But I can’t help it. We all deserve a second chance.”

As the sun began to set over Overa, casting a warm golden hue over our training grounds, I felt a sense of purpose envelop me. I was a Holy Gatherer now, and my journey was just beginning. I would fight for my sisters, for Ivy, and for the community we had built together. And as I raised my sword to the sky, I knew in my heart that I was ready to own my gift, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

Since that day, Meme’s skills had blossomed like the wildflowers surrounding our homes. The rest of the clan had begun to notice her newfound abilities, praising her as she practiced. Meanwhile, Ivy’s light dimmed. Once a fierce contender, she now stood on the outskirts, her ambitions fading as if she had been cast into shadow. It was a stark contrast to the confident girl I once knew, and my heart ached for her.

We had all felt invisible in our attempts to impress those who mattered most. However, for Ivy, this feeling was unfamiliar. Her mothers—second in command to mine—had always held high expectations. When Ivy faltered, they stood before the court, demanding her exile and branding her ambitious nature a curse they had battled all their lives.

I remembered the whispers in the training grounds. Ivy’s trial had been called “the trial of the century.” Mothers had been divided; some even suggested the bitter kiss cleanse on top of her exile, arguing it was the only way to rid her of her tainted spirit. I was shocked to witness Ivy’s so-called friends, who had once rallied around her, nodding in agreement with the harsh suggestions, while others remained silent. I could hardly believe the betrayal. Despite Ivy’s past wrongdoings, I would have spoken up for her.

As I rested on the steps leading to the Temple Hall after training, I saw Meme chatting animatedly with Gudit, one of Ivy’s former mothers and a second in command to Mother Cora. After a few moments, Meme leaned in and kissed Gudit’s palm—a gesture of respect and gratitude. I couldn’t help but notice the change in Gudit’s demeanor when she caught sight of Ivy in the distance. Without a word, she hurried back to join the elder Holy Gatherers, leaving Ivy standing alone, looking hopeless.

“Meme!” I called, waving her over as she finished her conversation. She approached, a bright smile lighting up her face.

“What was that about?” I asked, curiosity mingling with concern.

“Guess what?” she said, practically bubbling over with excitement. “I’ve been chosen as the leader of the new Holy Gatherers!”

“Oh wow! Meme, that’s amazing! You deserve it!” I exclaimed, my voice filled with genuine joy.

Meme’s excitement radiated, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment in my own circumstances. The weight of my worries overshadowed her triumph, but she seemed blissfully unaware, gazing thoughtfully at the training field.

“Can you believe it? I’ll be responsible for leading us all!” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Yes, I know you’ll do a great job. The Goddess of War has bestowed you with this gift,” I said, wanting to share in her happiness. “Did Mother Gudit say anything else?”

“No… she just told me the announcement will be made tomorrow before training. Why do you ask?”

“I was curious if she asked about Ivy,” I replied, glancing toward Ivy, who stood alone, the weight of her past bearing down on her.

Meme frowned slightly, shaking her head. “She didn’t. You know the laws of our land! There’s no more special treatment after becoming mothers. All is earned in the eyes of the goddesses, no matter who raised us. We’re equal here.”

I could see the regret in her eyes the moment the words left her lips.

“I didn’t mean to say that. What I meant was…” She searched for the right words, clearly distressed.

“It’s fine, Meme. Don’t worry about it. I deserve it. I should have tried harder or prayed longer. I’m sure we all have a purpose,” I said, standing up to leave.

Meme grabbed my hand gently, her grip firm. “You’re right. We all have a purpose, including Ivy. We can’t afford to lose anyone else. Our numbers are not what they used to be.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, intrigued.

Meme leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What I’m about to tell you is something you can’t repeat, not even to yourself.”

“What is it?” My curiosity piqued, sensing the gravity in her tone.

“Promise me, in your faith to the Goddess of War. Promise me!” Meme insisted, urgency sharpening her features.

“I promise. What is it?” I replied, my heart racing.

“When Ivy’s fate was debated among the elders, I was there too,” she confessed.

“Wait, everyone was there?” I asked, my mind racing.

“No, I was there on the second day of the trial. Every new mother was told not to attend, but I didn’t know. I was ordered to help Mother Malta, the court keeper. She told me to show up early to sort out the back chamber. By the time I finished, the trial had already started. Your mother—Mother Cora—said that the trees in the old lands are dying. She said that in the last journey, many offspring had perished with the trees, and they could not save any of them. Each journey was costing us more, and our enemies will never stop hunting us.”

“What do you mean? This can’t be true! You’re lying! You just want to make yourself feel special. My mother—Mother Cora—would have prevented me from joining the Holy Gatherers!” I shouted, overwhelmed by a mix of disbelief and anger.

“Wait, Tiya!” Meme called after me, but I was already sprinting down the steps, the weight of her words crashing over me like a tidal wave.

“Please! You promised! Tiya!” she pleaded, but I could hardly hear her over the roaring in my mind.

I ran until my lungs burned and my heart raced, fueled by a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, fear, anger. How could Ivy’s fate be so dire? How could my mother allow such tragedy to unfold? I stumbled into the training yard, trying to collect my thoughts.

In the distance, Ivy trained alone, her spear slicing through the air with a fury that mirrored my own turmoil. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. Had we all become victims of the same oppressive fate?

“Hey, Tiya!” Meme called, finally catching up with me, her breath heavy. “You can’t run away from this!”

I stopped and turned to face her, my chest heaving. “How can I not? This is all too much! Ivy’s failure… the trees dying… it’s all so overwhelming! How can we expect to survive?”

Meme stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. “We need to face this together, Ti. Ignoring it won’t make it go away. We have to fight for our home, our families, and even for Ivy.”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “How can I fight for someone who once bullied me? For someone who failed?”

“Because that’s what being a Holy Gatherer means,” Meme replied, her tone firm yet compassionate. “We fight for each other. We lift one another up. Ivy made mistakes, but she’s still one of us.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Meme held up her hand, stopping me. “No more excuses, Tiya. You have a gift, and you’re wasting it if you don’t use it to help others. Don’t let fear dictate your choices. You’re stronger than you think.”

Her words resonated deep within me, stirring something I had been suppressing. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “You’re right. I can’t let fear control me. If there’s a chance for Ivy, I should at least try to help.”

Meme’s face brightened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s go talk to her. Together.”

As we walked toward Ivy, I felt a sense of resolve building within me. I would not be ruled by fear; I would embrace my role as a Holy Gatherer and face the challenges ahead. I owed that much to myself—and to Ivy.

Ivy looked up as we approached, her expression guarded. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

Meme stepped forward, her demeanor calm and collected. “We wanted to see how you’re doing, Ivy. We’ve all been worried about you.”

Ivy’s gaze hardened, but I saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. “Worried? About me? That’s rich coming from you.”

“You’ve been through a lot, and it’s okay to lean on us. We want to help.” Said Meme softly.

“Help?” Ivy scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. “I don’t need your pity or your help. I’m fine on my own.”

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice. “You don’t have to be fine on your own, Ivy. None of us are. We’re all struggling, and it’s okay to admit that.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes at me, but I pressed on. “I’ve seen what you can do. You’re strong, and you belong with us. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

For a moment, silence enveloped us, the air thick with tension. I could see the gears turning in Ivy’s mind, her defenses wavering.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” Ivy finally said, though the sharpness in her voice had dulled slightly. “I just want to prove myself.”

“You can prove yourself alongside us,” I replied, my heart racing. “Join us, Ivy. Let’s work together to face whatever challenges come our way.”

Ivy’s expression hardened as she squared her shoulders and looked at both of us with a mixture of disdain and wounded pride. “Meme, you might feel special today,” she began, her voice dripping with venom. “I can see the attention you’re getting from my mothers. Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t last. I was raised to be the leader of my peers—the ambition inside me was planted by those very mothers who raised me.”

Her eyes flicked to me, cold and sharp. “And you, Tiya. The only reason you haven’t faced my fate is because of your privilege. Your mothers are the leaders of our community. You’ve never had to struggle the way I have.”

Meme’s face flushed with anger. I could feel the tension rising between the two of them, and for the first time, I saw a side of Meme I had never seen before—fierce and protective. Her fists clenched, and I knew she was about to say something she might regret. Before she could lash out, I placed a firm hand on her arm, holding her back.

“Meme,” I whispered urgently. “Don’t.”

She glanced at me, her eyes blazing with fury, but my grip on her arm remained steady. I had never seen Meme this angry, and it was clear her new status and abilities were changing her. I felt a flicker of worry. Meme was growing more powerful with each passing day, but it was also starting to change her. Would she still be the same Meme, or was this the beginning of something darker?

Ivy, oblivious to Meme’s struggle to contain herself, turned her back on us and stormed off toward the training field. Even though the session for the day had ended, she continued her movements with fierce intensity, refusing to acknowledge that the day was over for the rest of us.

“Let her be, Meme,” I said softly, my hand still on her arm. “She’s not in her right mind. It’s not our place to change her.”

Meme took a deep breath, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She glanced back at Ivy, then turned to me, her brow furrowed. “I can’t have her in my team, Tiya,” she said, her voice laced with frustration. “She’s a danger to us all. I can’t trust her after everything that’s happened.”

“Meme,” I said gently, trying to soften her mood. “You need to reconsider. Give her time. If she can’t join your team, she won’t be claimed by another Holy Gatherer. And with what we know about the challenges ahead, you’re going to need all of us.”

I paused, pulling out my sword and holding it up between us. The blade gleamed in the fading light of the evening, but it felt cold and distant in my hands. “Even me,” I added softly. “Look at my sword, Meme. It has no character like your bow. I haven’t felt its power the way you did yours. But that doesn’t mean I can’t use it in combat. We all have something to offer, even Ivy.”

Meme’s expression softened as she gazed at my sword, and I could see her anger ebbing away. She understood what I was trying to tell her—that leadership wasn’t about only accepting those who were perfect, but about guiding those who needed help finding their way.

“I know she’s difficult,” I continued, lowering my sword. “But you’re her leader now. You have to see beyond her mistakes. Besides, your leadership hasn’t been officially announced yet. You can let this one slide. For now.”

Meme let out a long sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ease the weight of the responsibility that had suddenly fallen on her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said after a moment, her voice calmer. “It’s just... hard to let go of the past. Ivy’s made so many mistakes, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to make up for them.”

I nodded, sliding my sword back into its sheath as I stepped closer to her. “I understand, but that’s what being a leader means. You have to believe in your team, even when they don’t believe in themselves.”

Meme gave me a weak smile, though I could see the exhaustion behind her eyes. “I guess I have some thinking to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I said, patting her on the shoulder. “You’ve always been good at seeing the bigger picture.”

With that, I turned and began to walk away, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air. Meme didn’t follow me right away. I could feel her lingering behind, processing everything that had happened. As I walked, the quiet of the evening settled around me, but my thoughts were anything but peaceful.

Ivy’s words echoed in my mind. “Your privilege…” The accusation stung, even though I knew deep down that she wasn’t entirely wrong. My mothers were the leaders of the community, and I had always been treated with a certain level of respect because of that. But I had worked hard to get where I was, and it pained me to think that others, like Ivy, saw me as someone who didn’t deserve my place here.

As I reached the path that led back to the domes, I stopped for a moment, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled above me, and I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. I had been chosen by the Goddess of War, just like Meme and Ivy, and that meant something. No matter how uncertain I felt, I knew I had a role to play in the battles to come.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, half expecting Meme, but it wasn’t her. It was Mother Cora.

“Tiya,” she called softly, her voice carrying through the quiet air. “Walk with me.”

I hesitated for a moment, surprised by her sudden appearance, but then I fell into step beside her. We walked in silence for a while, the soft glow of the grasses lighting our path.

“I sense you are troubled,” Mother Cora finally said, her voice gentle. “Is it about Ivy?”

I nodded, unsure of how much to reveal. “She said some things today... things that made me question myself. About privilege, about why I’m here.”

Mother Cora stopped walking, turning to face me with a knowing look in her eyes. “Ivy is lost right now, Tiya. She is lashing out because she feels abandoned by those she thought would always stand by her. Her words are a reflection of her pain, not a reflection of your worth.”

I looked down, unsure how to respond. “But she’s not wrong, is she? My mothers are the leaders, and maybe that’s the only reason I’ve gotten this far.”

Mother Cora shook her head, her hand gently tilting my chin so I could meet her gaze. “You are here because you are worthy, not because of your mothers. The Goddess of War chose you, Tiya. Never forget that. Your journey is your own, no matter what anyone else says.”

Her words sank deep into my heart, soothing the doubts that had begun to fester. I nodded, feeling a little lighter. “Thank you, Mother.”

She smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth. “Now, rest. Tomorrow brings new challenges, and you will need your strength.”

I nodded once more, watching as she turned and continued her walk down the path. As I headed back to my dome, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. Whatever trials lay ahead, I would face them head-on.