Birth and Celebration
The Naming
The women of the tribe had already begun preparing the celebration.
Only the finest foods would be offered on this special night the night of my brother’s birth.
The birth of Taranis Stormborne.
In the woods, the younger children laughed as they filled baskets with berries, blackberries and raspberries, bilberries (wild blueberries).
elderberries (cooked only), hawthorn berries, rose hips, crab apples, and sloes from the blackthorn.
Their chatter echoed with pride
a new life meant strength for the tribe.
The women worked in quiet rhythm.
Hazelnuts, acorns (leached to remove tannins), beech nuts, pine nuts, and the seeds. Young leaves of nettles
were piled high beside bundles of wild garlic and sacred greens.
I saw my mother’s sister lay a sprig of rosemary at the fire. Not for seasoning but for blessing.
“Hey, young Lore,” someone called, grinning.
“You coming hunting? Father says we’re after red deer and boar, fox, grouse, even river salmon. Only the finest meats for your mother and father. A new chieftain has been born!”
“Father’s naming him tonight? I’m coming!” I said, breath quickening.
I tried to keep the smile off my face, but it broke through anyway.
I was seventeen — broad-shouldered, proud, still hungry to prove myself.
I grabbed my spear and cast a glance back at my brothers and father.
our father, stood straight as an ash tree his expression unreadable.
Part of him was already in the cave, beside my mother and the child.
The rest of him… watched the woods.
I ran to join the others, my heart pounding. Together, we hollered and sprinted into the deep forest
a forest older than memory.
But as our laughter faded behind us,
a silence settled.
And then…
that chill again.
Not the kind that comes with wind or storm. No, this cold was the kind that clung to your bones. The kind that made birds quiet and your breath feel too loud.
Something was watching.
But nothing moved.
Still, we pressed on.
The Naming Feast had to be worthy.
“I hope he survives,” I muttered, trying to sound casual but Nyx heard the worry in my voice.
“Drax is furious,” he said under his breath.“He thinks the prophecy’s come true.”
He didn’t say what the prophecy meant but we both knew the stories.
A child born under eclipse.
A name written in fire.
A brother… destined to break us or save us.
Suddenly, Nyx raised a hand.
A deer just ahead.
I nodded once, crouched low, and let my spear fly.
A perfect strike.
Nyx gave the bird-call whistle to alert his father. We hauled the carcass back to camp together.
The others returned soon after.
The fire was lit. The meat laid out.
Herbs were thrown onto the flames
and their smoke curled skyward.
in a spiral that reminded me of a dragon’s breath.
Tonight, my baby brother would be named.
But even as the tribe gathered in joy.
I couldn’t shake the feeling
that something was coming through the trees.
© written by ELHewitt
Further Reading
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