Chapter 15: First Warrior of Emberfrost

Seraya chuckled under her breath. Vaelira snapped her gaze up from the compress held against her stomach, eyeing her with a dark scowl as if that slight hint of amusement were another insult to her shamanic majesty.

"What are you snickering at now?" she hissed, tilting her chin up. "Can you actually help me, or are you just amusing yourself at my expense?"

Seraya cleared her throat, shaking off her thoughts, and hitched up the stretched collar of her shirt, which slipped off her shoulder every time she leaned forward.

"I can," she replied, sounding as certain as if she had known what she was doing from the start. "We just need to handle this properly instead of waiting for you to double over on the ground again."

Vaelira studied her with guarded distrust, fingers tracing the warm bundle. It wasn't that she still thought the newcomer was a fraud; it was all the times she had tried to find a remedy herself, only for the pain to return as reliably as the cold after sunset.

Seraya saw it in her face and felt a prick of memory she definitely had no use for in this cursed cave.

In her previous life, she had her own personal "goddess" - a woman for whom she would jump out of bed in the middle of the night, haul groceries across half the city, and apologize for taking so long.

That girl had suffered from brutal cramps too, so Seraya had combed through countless pages, sought out specialists, and even accompanied her to an elderly doctor of traditional medicine.

In the end, they managed to get the pain under control, which restored her girlfriend's mood, energy, and apparently her desire to pine after someone else entirely.

At the thought, Seraya pressed her lips thin, feeling that old wound twinge beneath her ribs.

Great. You ran around with hot water bottles playing personal maid, while someone else got all the smiles. Focus, idiot, because this time more than bruised pride is on the line.

She cleared her throat again and looked back at Vaelira, brushing the memories aside for a far more urgent problem. She had to win the proud shaman's trust, because without her protection she wouldn't survive two peaceful days in Emberfrost.

"You said this trouble started around the time you became shaman, right?" she asked, putting on an expression so grave it looked like she had just uncovered some hidden truth.

Vaelira nodded, though a hint of impatience showed in her eyes.

"I just explained that to you."

Seraya leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"That's exactly why I'm asking. You took on the weight of rituals, fire, and everything these women bring to you, but you neglected your body's balance. Where I come from, they say that when too much cold gathers inside, the energy stops flowing as it should."

The shaman frowned, and seeing her focus, Seraya laid on another layer of calm confidence.

"Then the body rebels. You can keep performing rituals and pretend to the tribe that nothing is wrong, but stubbornness alone won't restore that balance."

She was bluffing through her teeth, weaving half-remembered terms into a mystical-sounding tale she couldn't defend before a real doctor.

It wasn't a diagnosis or insight into the spirits of this world, just another bluff from a girl who desperately needed an influential ally.

Yet this time she didn't wield threats of the shaman's death; she offered an explanation that spared her pride: Vaelira didn't have to be weak or flawed if her suffering could be framed as the toll of bearing too heavy a burden.

Thoughtful hesitation showed in the young woman's eyes as her hands pressed the compress tighter against her stomach.

"So... I cannot handle what I took upon myself?" she asked softly, then fixed Seraya with sudden suspicion. "Are you saying I should step down as shaman?"

Seraya shook her head at once, her tangled hair brushing the crimson mark on her right cheek.

"Not at all. You stay the shaman, and I help you tend to your body so you don't have to bear this alone every time."

Like hell! I just found someone who can make those old hags shut their traps, and you already want to give up power? I didn't take a stick to the shoulder today for that!

Vaelira studied her in silence for a long time, as if searching the stranger's face for a hidden trick. Seraya held her gaze, though beneath her calm front she felt an uneasy tension, knowing full well that promising help was very different from delivering a cure.

"Do you truly believe you can change anything?" the shaman asked at last, a trace of guarded, long-buried hope in her voice.

Seraya pointed to the bundle resting on her lower abdomen.

"And how do you feel right now, Lady Shaman?"

Vaelira looked down at the compress and slowly lowered her shoulders, remembering that not long ago she couldn't straighten up without a sharp cramp. The relief was only partial and the weakness remained, but for a woman expecting hours more agony, even that small difference meant the world.

Seraya caught the shift in her gaze and allowed herself a faint smile.

Look at that, sister. Finally looking at me like someone you can talk to, not a punching bag for your staff.

Meanwhile, outside the cave, the elders were running out of patience, straining to catch voices from within and trading glances of mingled worry and helplessness.

Selka stood closest to the entrance, fox ears tuned toward the dark passage, her reptilian tail twitching across the stones.

Raska hovered at her side, clearly convinced that if she repeated her accusations enough times, the elder would finally order Seraya dragged from the cave.

"Elder Selka, she's only stalling," she hissed, leaning in. "If she could truly save Vaelira, she wouldn't be in there this long. That demon is trying to fool us again!"

Selka didn't even look her way; right now, the outsider's fate mattered far less to her than whether the shaman was still breathing on the other side of the stone.

She might despise Seraya and dream of driving her from the valley, but if forced to choose between her own spite and Vaelira's life, she wouldn't hesitate for a second.

Raska took the silence as encouragement, rattling off more of the newcomer's suspicious habits until Morra turned on her, her patience worn thin.

"Enough, shut your filthy mouth!" she snarled, bear ears pinning back in anger. "If you can't help, at least stop getting in the way!"

Raska flinched and quickly bowed her head, hiding her indignation behind a mask of obedience. Before she could invent another excuse, the rustle of hides carried from the cave, followed by measured footsteps.

Every woman turned toward the entrance.

Seraya emerged from the gloom, supporting Vaelira under her arm and matching her pace. The shaman was still pale, but she walked upright and alert, her wrap adjusted and hair brushed from her face, looking nothing like the limp body they had wept over moments before.

Seraya held her steady, though her scraped knees and bruised shoulder ached with every step. Taking the woman's weight, she straightened her back, her shirt tightening across her chest before she could hitch the crooked collar back into place with her free hand.

At the sight of the two women, Morra blew out a breath as if she had only now remembered to exhale, while Selka froze with her lips parted, unable to square what she expected with what she saw.

She truly helped her? flashed through the fox elder's mind, while Raska stared at Vaelira with open disbelief she didn't even have time to hide.

Only when the shaman fixed her with a cold stare did the horned futa snap to her senses and bow her head with the rest.

"Grand Shaman."

Vaelira lifted her chin, settling her features back into familiar aloof gravity, though her hand still gripped Seraya's forearm tight.

"Selka, Raska, look up."

Both obeyed with a caution that improved Seraya's mood even further. She tried not to grin too wide, but the sight of a suddenly meek Raska was a welcome change after an entire evening of her squawking.

Vaelira indicated the newcomer with a slight nod.

"Tell me, Selka, what do you think of this warrior?"

The elder glanced at Seraya, then back to the shaman, searching for an answer that sounded neither like praise nor open defiance.

"She is... capable," she forced out at last.

Vaelira smiled coldly, and beneath that smile, Selka's fingers tightened on her staff.

"More than capable. She killed a giant serpent, tamed the beast in our valley, showed the people how to use fire, and then helped me when none of you knew what to do. Such deeds are not dismissed with a single word."

Despite her fatigue, satisfaction warmed Seraya's chest, and as Vaelira turned toward the others, she straightened a little more, settling into a proud posture on instinct.

"From this day forth, Seraya shall be the First Warrior of Emberfrost."

Raska's head jerked up, while Selka's jaw worked as if she were trying to swallow something foul and jagged.

"Shaman, surely..."

"Do you have an objection?" Vaelira asked, so softly that the sudden silence at the entrance turned palpable.

Selka lowered her chin, a sheen of sweat breaking out on the back of her neck.

"No, none."

The shaman summoned her with a flick of her hand, and the elder stepped forward, eyes fixed on the stone floor. Seraya barely had time to brace her footing before Vaelira shifted her weight and raised her free hand.

CRACK!

Selka's head snapped sideways, the sharp crack of the slap echoing through the rocks, making one of the guards tighten her grip on her spear.

The elder froze with her head turned from the blow, looking for a moment like she couldn't believe this had happened in front of witnesses.

"The warrior proved herself through deeds, yet you heeded slander and ordered her skull smashed," Vaelira said, eyeing her without a shred of leniency. "Do you consider this punishment unjust?"

Selka slowly turned back, a red handprint blooming across her cheek, and bowed her head lower.

"No, shaman."

The words sounded obedient, but inside her, humiliation curdled into quiet, bitter hatred. For years she had forged her standing as an elder whose orders were obeyed without question, and now she had been struck before the guards over an outsider who had set foot in the valley barely hours ago.

Seraya noticed the pale knuckles gripping the staff and felt her satisfaction give way to an uneasy hunch.

Great. Now the witch will wish death on me even over breakfast.

Vaelira turned her gaze on Raska, who instantly tore her eyes from Selka's cheek and stiffened her neck.

"And you used lies to incite the elders against the warrior. How should such conduct be dealt with?"

The horned futa dropped to her knees before the shaman could finish the question.

"Grand Shaman, I only wanted to protect the tribe! That fraud... that warrior came from nowhere, so how could I know her intentions?!"

Vaelira raised an eyebrow, and Raska regretted her words at once.

"So you question my judgment?"

"No! Never would I…"

"I just acknowledged her deeds, and you still attempt to convince me she is a threat."

Raska shivered, looking pleadingly at Morra, and receiving no help, raised her hands and began slapping her own cheeks, stammering apologies faster and faster.

"My fault! Forgive me, shaman! My fault!"

Vaelira turned away, leaving her on her knees, and looked at the burly elder by the entrance.

"Morra, you did well to halt the execution and bring Seraya to me."

Morra bowed her head, still surprised by how swiftly the lone newcomer had secured the shaman's personal protection. Yet she had seen enough to understand that treating the girl like a suspicious vagrant was no longer an option.

"Thank you for the kind words, Vaelira."

"Find a clean cave for her near mine," the shaman instructed. "She must have a place to rest and work."

Seraya turned toward her, having fought for a spot on someone else's pile of dry grass earlier that very evening. Before she could savor the turn of fortune, Selka raised her head and cut in again.

"Shaman, if she lives apart from the other hunters, it will be harder for her to learn their customs and cooperate on hunts."

Morra shot her a look of such deep weariness that Seraya nearly snorted.

Even a slap across the mouth wasn't enough to keep the old crone from finding another bone to pick.

Vaelira turned her head slowly, regarding Selka with cool interest.

"By your reasoning, should I also head into the forest with a spear each day?"

The elder waved her hands at once.

"No, of course not. I only meant a warrior's duties..."

"Her skills are not limited to hunting," the shaman cut in. "Since she can serve the tribe here, we will not waste her talents merely because it is more convenient for dividing the spoils."

Selka tightened her mouth, and Vaelira addressed all present, giving her next words the weight of a command.

"From this day forth, Seraya is not required to take part in daily hunts. She will receive the food she needs from the tribe, and I will assign her tasks personally."

Seraya stood beside her, keeping her face as straight as possible, while her mind scrambled to process everything she had just heard.

A cave of her own, food, and no mandatory chasing after beasts? Damn... A second ago I was free target practice for throwing rocks, and now I've landed a post beside the shaman?

Selka swallowed, grasping for the last argument that might stem this flood of privileges.

"And Chieftain Maerra? She should approve such a choice."

Vaelira looked at her without the slightest hesitation.

"I will speak with Maerra myself."

This time Selka offered no answer, merely bowing her head, feeling the last hopes of ridding herself of the newcomer fade with the shaman's words. As long as Vaelira stood by Seraya, any further attempt to cast her out would no longer be a matter of dealing with a lone outsider, but open defiance of their spiritual leader.

Kneeling on the stones, Raska understood this just as clearly, clenching her fists tighter with every decree.

Looking at Seraya standing tall beside the shaman, she saw not only the girl who had stolen Niva's attention, but also the new First Warrior of Emberfrost, draped in protection and respect that Raska could only dream of.

If Niva couldn't tear her eyes away from her before, would she even notice Raska at all now?