Ⅰ Esther of Oktero Ⅰ 

Esther laid awake half-way through the most important day of her life, on top of the thin burlap sheet covering her straw mattress. The gentle gusts of wind coming through the wooden slat window of her hut brushed the translucent curtains out of the way to enter. The breeze was the only refuge from the heat of the Oktero desert, the hottest mid-day when her people slept so they could work under the forgiving divine moonlight. It wasn’t the sweat that kept Esther from dreaming, it was the event that would take place at sundown and change her life forever.

The thoughts that played in her mind overlapped in noise and made her head spin. It wasn’t getting the words right that she worried about, or whether or not her marks would really be symmetrical, or trying to decide which pattern she would call her own from this day on. She wasn’t concerned about her gepatro’s cooking for the party, or how many guests would turn up from the tribe. The answer to that last question, of course, was everyone. Everyone was depending on Esther, and she had to do it all on her own.

She didn’t notice she had fallen asleep until her gepatro woke her up by placing a glass of ice-melon water on her night stand and brushing through her brown curls. Upon realizing the time, Esther turned over to the other side, covered her face with her eight long fingers, and groaned.

“Nervous?” her gepatro, Avihail asked. They knew it was a burdensome question for their child. There had never been a day in Esther’s life when she wasn’t as brave and bright as a sand-fox; insisting otherwise resulted in a lot of yelling. Still, it was her big day, and a good gepatro doesn’t stop caring just because their offspring is turning 31.

Normally, questioning her ability would cause Esther to shoot up from her resting place and into a confident frenzy. Unfortunately the weight of a sleepless night was upon her like ten thousand bricks. She moved through the heavy air in slow motion until she was seated, her mess of curls covering her face until she parted the curtains. “No,” she answered, “I’m just tired.”

Her geppy leaned their head against hers, the faint brushing of the tapered antennae felt like the static of sparklers; there, but so close to nothing it was indescribable. Each person’s touch was unique, and Esther could recognize this one anywhere. It felt like home. She smiled. 

“I invited Demeter. I hope you don’t mind. She’s staying in Rivka’s camel shed.”

Avihail frowned. “One friend, and you make her stay in my sister’s camel shed?”

“It’s a nice camel shed. And you know they’d never look for her there, if the army found out she crossed the border.”

It wasn’t exactly hospitality, but geppy understood. There were risks involved with crossing into territories, even within alliances. Especially when the territory you crossed into was Oktero, the land of vicious warriors and violent outlaws. On normal circumstances a resident of Dutero wouldn’t dare cross into the desert wastelands, far from the lush plains full of fresh water and crops. Esther couldn’t promise her friend would even eat well, let alone drink to keep the dry heat at bay, in exchange for her travels. If the occasion hadn’t been so special she would have felt too guilty to have asked. 

Esther got dressed for the night, watched from above by the twin moons. She felt at peace in their presence, like the two Goddesses were approving her into the tribe already. She draped herself in her loose, white linen dress that kept the heat off her back and funneled the breeze inside; her most comfortable choice. She had her dagger strapped underneath in a leather sheath- just in case. You never know what battles could be waiting for you just outside your front door. She made sure her curls weren’t messy, but ah, who was she kidding? No matter how much time she spent on them, they’d never sit right. Sandals buckled on, downing a few more sips of ice-melon, she was ready for anything.

Under the colorful sunset Esther walked, shoulders back and standing strong, across the flat sand plains of her village. Her tribe members bowed their heads in honor of their beloved little one growing up. They had watched her blossom into a real warrior, fearless and prepared to take on her desired role as a defender of the tribe, 6’3 and contoured with muscle from long nights hunting under the stars. She offered them proud smiles, taking a deep breath as she neared Rivka’s house.

“Is that my Esther, all grown up?” Aunt Rivka snatched Esther before she could sneak by to the shed. Esther squeaked and rolled her eyes as she was clung to affectionately. She smiled.

“I don’t know. Am I?” She responded sarcastically.

Rivka was proud, in a bittersweet kind of way. Esther knew what this ceremony meant to her. Just a couple years before Esther was born, Rivka had lost her only son. Though she refused to speak about the details Esther knew it filled her with regret. Otherwise, she would have had a cousin by now. “You will be, once you get some paint on that pretty face. Alright, alright. Now go and get to your friend before the camels do.”

The shed was around the back enclosed in a corral. Esther hopped it and headed inside. The wooden door creaked as she opened it, sand falling from crevices above into her hair and palms. “Demeter,” she whispered into torch-lit dimness.

It had been a long hike from Dutero. Demeter was half asleep, but her dark eyes followed the light up towards the moonlit halo over Esther’s head. Demeter thought Esther looked surreal at times, like someone destined to be much larger than their shadow. “I’m awake!” she responded. She pulled herself up with the wooden beams around her and brushed the straw from her skirts.

“I know you’re awake, but are you ready?” Esther inquired playfully.

“Are you ready? You’re the one in the ceremony.”

Truthfully, Esther didn’t have an answer. She folded her arms and leaned in the doorway. Sometimes she felt too young and too old all at once. Demeter had always felt more mature by comparison, even if she was only older by a few moons. She was dressed in light layers and sandals she reserved for her desert treks to visit Esther. A green blouse fell below her brown shoulders, and her caramel colored hair had been brushed so neatly it was shining. 

Esther finally answered with a question of her own, her voice wavering in worry. “Demeter, do you remember when we were kids? Little kids?”

“Of course,” Demeter nodded. “How could I forget? That’s why I came to see you.” She stepped over and shoved Esther’s arm, hard enough to not offend her.

Esther shifted back. The push made her smile, averting her gaze for a second before she met her eyes again. “I just keep thinking about the world lately. I think I’m ready to grow up one night, then the next I feel so small. But it’s not really me, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not me who's weak. It’s the world that makes it feel that way. And no matter how much we grow, the world is still bigger. I’m saying, there’s so much out there that we don’t hear about! I’ve never even been to Dutero, and I don’t know anything about Kvintero. That’s not counting the rest of the world. And nobody ever talks about it- but me for some reason.”

Demeter sighed. There she was, always getting ahead of herself. Esther could think up battles between rocks and twigs if she sat beside some long enough. “It’s not that they won’t talk about it, it’s that no one really knows do we? Even if we wanted to go out, see the world, fix everything- what would be the point? Two people aren’t enough. And we have no idea what’s going on in the other alliances.”

It looked like she’d just crushed Esther’s heart. Demeter felt a guilty pang in her chest when she saw her friend slide down the door frame and place her face in her palms. It reminded her of those old winter nights when food was scarce, and she would find little Esther curled up in the sand defeated by an inability to spear a cactus-rat. Demeter, taller in those days, would reach for the prickly cactus fruits and peel the skins for each of them revealing the jewel colored jelly inside. They would eat and tell stories until sunrise, and Demeter hid the painful pricks on her hands in her sleeves. Anything to make Esther happy.

Demeter lowered herself again and took Esther’s hands in her own, prying them away from her face. “I’m not saying it’s stupid Esther. I’m just worried you’re thinking too much about it.” She wanted to come up with an idea that would cheer her up, something wild and crazy, and she promised without thinking. “We should go on an adventure together. Right after your ceremony, we can leave tomorrow night and just travel. We could go all the way to Kvintero if you want to. Would that make it any better?”

It really did. It made it so much better, in fact, that Esther took no time to tackle Demeter down in the shed. She squeezed her arms around her tightly and squealed. “You mean it?!” She yelled, with the excitement of a puppy but the voice of a growling wolf. 

Demeter stroked her back, feeling the thick curls under her fingers. She couldn't get out of it now, but oh well. She knew she'd be safe with Esther by her side. “Yes I mean it. I already told my gepatro I’d be away for a while.”

“You’re the best, most amazing-!” Esther couldn’t even finish her sentences. She sat back up and stared at Demeter’s face intensely. “You- have one thing missing for my birthday.” She decided.

“Oh? What’s that?” Demeter chimed. This was the Esther she knew and cared for, always onto the next wild idea.

“Well you did turn 31 before me. That makes you a tribal adult. And you don’t have any face paint.”

“Isn’t that cultural appropriation?”

“What? No. Not if I’m the one doing it.”

Demeter laughed. “But you haven’t even done it on yourself yet. Isn’t the whole point of the ceremony to be the first time?”

“Demeter, when have I ever followed a rule?” Esther groaned. “Now let me paint you, then I’ll be way more ready to do it myself.”

Demeter nodded and closed her eyes, awaiting her glorious make-over. Esther studied her features for a second before reaching for a piece of hardened clay lying in the sand outside. It was plentiful in the desert, and it was what they crushed for pigment. She grinded an old metal nail against it for a bit before adding a drop of water from the trough. Using two fingers on each hand simultaneously, she placed her fingertips equidistant at Demeter’s temples and swirled them down across her cheekbones. With one finger each this time she painted wings over her eyes, colored her lips, and ended with two small lines at her chin.

“Now we’ll match,” she said decidedly. 

Demeter opened her eyes and stood up, going to find a reflective window to see how it had turned out. She admired the markings and hummed in approval. “So, do you feel ready now?” She turned back.

Esther sighed and shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”