The Broken Crown

Chapter 3

Asha

 The trees around her melted into a line of green and brown and dots of colours from the flowers as her short legs picked up the speed. It was only what lay ahead of her that she saw clearly, and even that was blurry. With expertise, she dodged the trunks that appeared on her paths and jumped over roots, pretending that they were poisonous snakes. The ground beneath her feet was muddy, creating a challenge in itself even without the untamed roots and leaves that kept snapping at her arms and face.

 Still, the wind that blew in her face was a momentary relief from the damp heat that surrounded her. Her own body created a different heat, a burning heat that didn’t envelope her like the heat of the air.

 When she saw the light of the clearing appear just ahead of her, the fence created from slim trunks placed in x’s, she averted her gaze from the path and selected the right branch above the fence. Without a moment’s hesitation, she jumped from the ground and grabbed the branch with one hand, lunging forward across the trunks.

 She landed on her feet, her knees and hip bended and didn’t resist her upper body’s fall towards the ground, though she slowed it by supporting her weight against her other hand. Just as quickly as she had fallen, she stood up and walked into her village.

 The lands of the Jaguar had many of these kinds of villages. The fact that the current Kahari lived here made no difference; this village was no richer or larger than any other. It was made up of seven large houses, each holding their own large family, placed in a circle. They were placed atop tall wooden pillars so that they would not be flooded when the spring tide came to this part of the large forest. Each of them had a rope with wooden sticks attached to it so that you could easily crawl up and down, as well as ropes connecting all of the houses.

 The Kahari’s house was not different; it was a part of the circle, fishing nets hanging to dry on the walls along with clothes and spears leaned against the fence surrounding it. There was only one thing that marked that this house was special; the skull of a jaguar lying unceremoniously beside the door and the fact that only two people lived there.

 It was a rule among the Yaguar people that the Kahari was not allowed to be joined with another man or woman. He was not allowed to have a family of his own. He could have as many lover as he wanted to, and as many children with those lovers as he wanted to, and his lover or lovers could sleep in his house for several nights in a row, but if they placed their belongings there or indicated that they had moved in, it would cause scandal. The house of the Kahari was reserved for only those who were of the Jaguar. Right now, there were only two of those; the Kahari and herself.

 Asha crawled up the rope to her home quickly, with trained movements. Within seconds, she was standing on the platform that surrounded her house, like the balconies that she had heard of, the ones that the castles in the north had. Pushing the wooden door open, she walked into the dimly lit room.

 The Kahari sat in the corner on his sleeping mat and skins. His dark, almost black skin was only visible because of that the candlelight reflected in the layer of sweat that had formed on his arms. The curtains were closed, keeping away the sunlight. When there was no breeze, it only became hotter when you opened them. When he looked up at her, his golden eyes gleamed even in the darkness. It was those eyes that made him Kahari; the elders said that it was the soul of the Jaguar that shone through them. Everyone who was of the Jaguar had those eyes, gold instead of black.

 “Asha.” She could hear the question in his statement.

 “I was hunting,” she explained before he had the chance to ask. She pulled her hunting skin off her shoulder and opened it. A small, golden-red monkey fell out – it was large for its species but its species was small. It was enough to feed them that night.