ToxicBlood E-Book

Fabienne Gschwind

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 456

Beschreibung

Firrland is a wild volcanic island between Spitsbergen and Greenland. It would be an idyllic place if a poison and drug sect didn't rule everything there. Helga, the granddaughter of the high priestess, is torn from her studies and forced to succeed her. Then, when the goddess Elyyr herself appears and orders Helga to build a modern army to conquer the world, things get dicey. To complicate things further, a spaceship is discovered buried beneath the island ... what is the alien who lives there up to? Toxic Blood is a fast-paced science fiction novel. It is set in the beautiful landscape of the Arctic.

Leseprobe

Texts: © Copyright by Fabienne GschwindCover design: © Copyright by Fabienne Gschwind

Publisher:Fabienne GschwindBelgium

Distribution: epubli - a service of neopubli GmbH, Berl

Abstract

Firrland is a wild volcanic island between Spitsbergen and Greenland. It would be an idyllic place if a poison and drug sect didn't rule everything there.

Helga, the granddaughter of the high priestess, is torn from her studies and forced to succeed her. Then, when the goddess Elyyr herself appears and orders Helga to build a modern army to conquer the world, things get dicey. To complicate things further, a spaceship is discovered buried beneath the island ... what is the alien who lives there up to?

Toxic Blood is a fast-paced science fiction novel. It is set in the beautiful landscape of the Arctic.

Preface

For the younger generation:

please note that the book is set in 2009, smartphones were just being introduced at that time.

Year 1984

"Well?" Nichua's eyes burned with curiosity. "Yes, she has it, little Helga has it!" a young nurse answered. She breathlessly entered the parlor without taking off her seal boots.

"I inconspicuously dripped some of Elyyrsblood on the back of her hand. Nothing! She didn't scream or break out in a rash. Not even with the blood in the highest concentration."

Nichua, the High Priestess from the Cult of Elyyr, nodded thoughtfully. "My granddaughter has the tolerance. She could be my successor.“ She fell silent again, deep in thought. The addressed, still fully dressed, only said, "I hardly think Sabrina will allow it if she finds out who we are. She's far too civilized, after all."

"Then she won't find out. I'll have to call the Quatrik together, there's a lot to discuss."

The Quatrik referred to the three people who worked directly with the High Priestess and helped with administration. Nichua was the High Priestess of the Cult of Elyyr, thus commanding over the entire cult, which included all of the 5000 inhabitants of Firrland without exception, as well as the approximately 2000 foreign Firrlanders. Thus she was defacto state president of Firrland.

The inhabitants of Firrland worshipped the goddess Elyyr. In contrast to other religions, Elyyr did not represent an invisible power, but was worshipped as a person. In all ceremonies a drink called 'Elyyrsblood' played a major role. It was brewed from poisonous berries. From an early age, children drank it in tiny doses to get used to it. For only those who could drink Elyyrsblood were allowed to take higher positions in the cult. But the most important requirement was to learn how to live in the Firrland wilderness.

Firrland was a large island between Spitsbergen and the Arctic. Long ago extinct volcanoes crisscrossed the island, this mountain range determined Firrland's unique climate. While the east coast was washed by a weak branch of the warm Gulf Stream, the west coast was literally submerged under pack ice in winter.

Nichua's family also lived on this island. Her adult son Sunnio, his Norwegian-Swiss wife Sabrina, and now her newborn daughter, Helga, Nichua's granddaughter.

They all lived near the northern tip of the island. Here the warm current met the cold waters of the Arctic Ocean. The Shellia glacier was as if licked by the water current. Many climatologists, glaciologists and other researchers made a visit to Shellia, the small village near the glacier, to study this phenomenon. Sunnio and his wife Sabrina ran the famous research station Zivik 1, which was used as a base by many researchers.

Little Helga, who was born a few days ago, would grow up there.

It was evening and Nichua had managed to call the Quatrik together that same day. Everyone was sitting around the dining table in the parlor. Since her husband had died, Nichua lived alone and her house was used as a meeting place for such gatherings. For larger gatherings of this kind, the caves in the Shell Forest were used, or an old copper mine in the middle of the island.

The High Priestess looked around; to her right sat Murik. His Inuit ancestry was plain to see, for most Firrlanders were fair-skinned. In the Quatrik, he filled the role of the Winter Hunter. To Nichua's left sat Ajoischa, she was the Summer Hunter. In the past, there was a precise division of roles between the Winter Hunter and the Summer Hunter. The Winter Hunter was the head of the hunters when the eternal night fell. The Summer Hunter took the lead in the summer when the light prevailed. Today, this rigid distribution had been abandoned in favor of a flexible way of working.

This was also the reason why the Cult of Elyyr, despite its antiquity, was still supreme. The cult was open to change and adapted without forgetting the old traditions. Unlike many peoples in other regions, the cult demanded that members learn new skills. If possible, they were even expected to leave the island and return with new knowledge.

The third member was Kimuk Strallodjsen, he was half-Dane. A few months ago he had finished his studies in medicine in Denmark and had come back to Shellia to open a practice. While still a student, he had been chosen by the old medicine man to succeed him.

"All right, let's begin. Helga Oser was born a few days ago. One of the nurses at the hospital managed to test her for tolerance. She has the strongest tolerance I have ever seen in an infant! Even undiluted Elyyrsblood didn't leave even a redness on her delicate skin."

The others snapped their eyes open.

"So we have to train her," the observation came from Murik.

"Sabrina will counter that," Ajoischa spontaneously interjected, "she's civilized. She has always refused to join us. And calls us a backwoods hunter club. We have to cover for Sunnio all the time so he can participate in everything."

Nichua raised her voice, "It's common knowledge that Sabrina doesn't want to know about our beliefs and traditions. But she is a nice and helpful person, she is respected by everyone."

She looked around the room. "But when it comes to her daughter, she's hardly going to be tolerant. I agree with you there."

Everyone nodded. Sabrina Kultika-Oser had been married to Sunnio for years and lived in Shellia, where she ran the Zivik base with Sunnio. They had cleverly shared the leadership with Sunnio. Each of them took care of his own area, but had sufficient knowledge that the other could substitute at short notice. Despite her reservations about various Firrland traditions, she was popular with the locals. She had a Norwegian mother and a Swiss father. She had traveled extensively and knew a lot.

"In order to teach Helga, we have to disguise the cult of Elyyr."

Nichua stood up and reached for the cloak hanging on the chair behind her. Slowly, she placed it on her shoulder. With this formal gesture she indicated that she was about to decide something important. The other three sat up straighter, all were surprised, no one had expected an important decision in this meeting.

"After much deliberation, I have decided that to outsiders and civilized people, the Cult of Elyyr should look like a hunters and nature club. The world is getting smaller, explorers are running around, tourists are coming with their cameras. But our rituals have always been secret. We've never had any trouble keeping them secret in all these centuries, because practically everyone in Firrland is privy to them, and those who don't know are too afraid of us to want to pry into our affairs."

Kimuk and the others nodded. The cult was not as peaceful as it appeared at first glance. Human sacrifices and hunts for grave robbers or explorers who searched a little too deeply into Firrland's history were not uncommon. Murik thought of the massacre a good forty years ago when Russian soldiers were scouting to see if they could build an Arctic base on Firrland. During their stay, they had assaulted a young woman. Those who had not perished during the initial attack died of strange diseases or poisoned food. Two members had even been sent to Russia to kill the last soldier there.

But also the rituals, where blood played a central role as well as fights between humans and animals seemed completely out of place in the modern world and would have surely triggered a shitstorm should everything become known. Improved telecommunication, high-resolution small cameras and increasing tourism, made it more difficult every year to hide the cult.

"In little Helga's eyes and to all the other people, we'll just be nature-loving people. It will look like we are passing on the ancient knowledge of how to survive in nature to our children."

Kimuk suddenly got excited, "We could organize little weekend classes or camps and have the non-members pay us to teach them."

The others seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea, and Nichua changed the subject.

"I'm not sure yet if I'm going to train Helga as my successor. It would make sense, because she has the strongest tolerance seen in the last generations. But, I fear that Sabrina will be a bad influence on her. I can't train Sunnio, his tolerance is not strong enough."

Nichua actually wanted to continue, but a screech almost ruptured her eardrums. "Damn it! What was that!" gasped Kimuk. Then he saw the ecstatic faces of his three older colleagues.

He broke out in a cold sweat as he realized what that meant. Slowly, he turned around. But his fear abruptly subsided and a deep sense of happiness flooded through him.

Behind him stood Elyyr.

The goddess worshipped in the cult had come herself. She was taller than an average human and radiated a white light. Her face was unearthly beautiful. Nichua bowed deeply to her and smiled as if recognizing an old acquaintance. The goddess occasionally appeared at great and important ceremonies. Nichua had met her more often. Time and again, members reported meeting her in the wilderness. Occasionally, she also sought out members and assigned them missions. But her coming to a simple Quatrik meeting was most rare. It had to be related to Nichua's announcement.

"I felt Helga already showing a powerful tolerance. A tolerance like no newborn has shown since High Priest Mantia. Nichua, I want you to accept Helga as your successor. Should she survive all the trials, and likewise the high priestly ordination, she will become the most powerful High Priestess in centuries..."

Elyyr faltered and seemed to consider before continuing, "If technological progress continues as it is now, little Helga will lead the cult into a new future. And Firrland will become more powerful than ever. You will carry out the medicine man's suggestion. The visitors will not be initiated. But they will be given a special potion to drink that will bind them to me. I will send you the recipe."

And with another shriek, she disappeared again.

Kimuk finally managed to close his jaw. He had never seen Elyyr in real before, and was blown away by the feeling of happiness that had become even more intense as she spoke her orders.

Nichua sat back down in ecstasy and beamed, "Alright, that settles the near future and also my succession. I will "inoculate" her regularly to make her even more powerful. Now we just have to figure out how to baptize Helga without her mother's knowledge. And how we can transform the whole cult and keep it secret, and how to attract tourists and bind them to Elyyr, with this special potion."

Elyyr's order had to be carried out, of course, and no one thought to question what exactly Elyyr meant by "bind".

Only Ajoischa groaned, "The next few years are definitely going to be stressful."

Almost three months later, the time had come and the baptism for Helga was firmly scheduled. Sabrina was going to get her hair cut in the village and had to go to a meeting with a hotel in Shellia right after. A whole research group would arrive and the Zivik was too small to accommodate them all. Sabrina had to arrange the last details of the accommodation. For this time she would give Helga to her grandmother Nichua to babysit. As she did occasionally when she went shopping in the village or had to do something. Occasionally Nichua would come to the Zivik to babysit, or take Helga to her home. Sabrina was amazed at how the old grumpy Nichua had so suddenly turned into a loving grandmother. But she was glad for any help she could get. Sunnio was often away to take care of the many expeditions that were on their way in Firrland nature and they were also busy planning to build a new more modern base. Funds had to be raised and many talks with investors were necessary. After all, Nichua had never mentioned again anything about this strange religion that was practiced here in Firrland. Where the locals worshiped a deity called Elyyr. Even when Sabrina announced her wish to baptize Helga Protestant, Nichua had agreed and said she could organize a small baptism ceremony in Shellia. Sabrina was not keen on this idea, because the small wooden church that had been built by a missionary was quite run down. But surprise; not even a week later, Sabrina read in the newspaper that Shellia City Council had agreed to repair the slightly run-down church. What a coincidence! She thought to herself.

But what she didn't know. Shellia's City Council, or in short the Firrland government, was headed by Nichua. What she ordered was equal to an order from Elyyr and everyone would turn everything upside down to follow the orders. All Elyyr members were like that, Elyyr's orders or Nichua's were mandatory, it triggered an indescribable wave of joy in them to serve the High Priest or the deity. And they would do anything to obey the orders. No one had ever questioned this euphoria. Why should they? Elyyr was a deity, almost certainly the only real deity that existed on earth, so it was normal to receive this feeling of happiness when doing something for her.

But this time Sabrina would not go to Nichua's house. It was Tuesday afternoon and Nichua was having a sort of "board game afternoon" at Shellia's multifunctional hall. While Sabrina was surprised to hear this, she had never heard about game afternoons. But she didn't give it a second thought, after all, she didn't know what the old people did all day long on a remote island almost at the height of Greenland.

Curious, she stepped into the large building. Which was at the same time gymnasium, banqueting hall and meeting place. In fact, a small club of elderly ladies and gentlemen had gathered in an adjoining room. Games were scattered over various tables. Coffee and cake were served and the atmosphere was good and calm.

Nichua, Ajoischa and Murik were seated around a table playing some kind of dice game using small carved figures and bones.

After a short, warm greeting, Sabrina placed Helga's Maxi-Cosi near the table. "Earlier, she fell asleep. If she's hungry, here's her bottle and there are some diapers."

Nichua smiled good-naturedly

Feeling that Helga was in good hands, Sabrina left the house.

The three older people sat back down and continued playing, the sleeping Helga beside them.

Just then, a barely audible, high-pitched whistle came in through the one window. That was the sign that Sabrina had almost arrived at the hair salon.

In a few seconds the whole changed. Calmly, yet hurriedly, the three stood up. So did the two dozen players. Jackets and sweaters were taken off and underneath everyone wore their traditional costumes. Murik went to the adjacent gymnasium and looked inside. Almost 200 people were waiting there in the dark and in silence. The hall was decorated and they had tried to make it somewhat similar to the Shell Caves. The Shell Caves was the place where rituals were usually performed. At Murik's signal, everyone got ready. A few oil lamps were lit to imitate the fire effect of torches, but without increasing the fire hazard. The musicians got into position. The 200 people were the most important people in the the cult. The baptism of a future high priest was something very special and something that one would see perhaps only once in his lifetime. Even FirrTV was present to record everything so that all those who could not attend could experience the important moment. Many precautions had been taken so that Sabrina would never see this footage.

Nichua pulled her dress over her head, underneath appeared sealskin pants and the Ksinik, a sleeveless vest made of thick leather that the Elyyrs members practically always wore.

Actually, it was still winter and the traditional winter clothing of the High Priestess consisted of the darker sealskin pants and a white jacket made of polar bear fur. But because the ceremony was held inside, Nichua had decided to compromise. Murik and Ajoischa also put on their designated clothing. Finally, Nichua tied an amulet around her forehead. It was a forged Elyyrka, the symbol of Elyyr, their goddess. It had a lance in the center and two tusk-like bows.

"Where the hell is Kimuk?" asked Murik anxiously. He knew that the doctor had flown to another village this morning on an emergency basis in a small plane.

"I just hope he gets here in time, the schedule is awfully tight," Ajoischa whined as she pulled out from behind a curtain her beautifully carved javelin sling and quiver of throwing spears.

Nichua was still putting on her brown cloak. It was very old; her grandmother and great-grandmother had already owned it. It was called the 'mammoth cloak', but no one seriously believed it was made of mammoth leather.

Suddenly they heard the rattle of a snow motorcycle. A few seconds later Kimuk was standing in the hall. He tossed the practice key to his assistant, who had been driving him.

"Get everything ready already, I'll be right there," he called to her. "Sorry, I didn't have time to go home and get my clothes." He looked down at himself. He was wearing ski pants and a wool sweater over his shirt.

"This morning, I had to jump out of bed right onto the plane ... But on the way back, I figured something out." He pulled his shirt over his head. Emblazoned on his chest and both shoulder blades was a painted Elyyrka-Rim, the beautiful, squiggly version of the Elyyr symbol. "Tigit drew it for me on the plane, with a waterproof pen ..."

Ajoischa nodded appreciatively, "The little girl has a steady hand. Can someone give him a pair of pants!" she then commented. And immediately someone about the same size sat down on the ground and offered Kimuk his sealskin pants.

"Well, here we go!" Nichua carefully lifted Helga out of the cradle, the toddler opened her eyes blinking, smiled and went back to sleep.

Nichua walked to the entrance hall, where the double doors opened into the gym. She picked up her knife and as was tradition, the other three formed up behind her in a diamond shape. Together they entered the gym

The 200 people who had been standing huddled respectfully. The Drummers, as they called the musicians who drummed on human skulls, intoned the traditional rhythm, accompanied by some bone flutes.

Nichua and the Quatrik stepped through the line of attendees to the front where an improvised altar had been erected.

Glancing at her wristwatch, Nichua quite undignifiedly rattled off the words of welcome and took a small sip of Elyyrsblood. The usual ritual normally called for a triple blessing on Elyyr, but Nichua had only waved it off:

"If I drink three cups, I'll slip into a stupor. Sabrina would notice, so it has to go that way."

Now the High Priestess laid Helga on the rendier hide as the community rose to a chant. Nichua stood over Helga and raised her knife.

"We are about to proceed to the consecration ... please!" she urged the musicians and bystanders, who immediately began humming another tune. The real consecration would have taken over 3 hours, but now they had to reel everything into an hour to finally slip back into their roles.

"May Elyyr forgive us for our haste...", Nichua said thoughtfully.

But then a horrible sound boomed through the room and Elyyr stood in the room.

"I forgive you and will cut short the consecration myself," she said without mincing words to the members frozen in awe.

Of course, almost everyone had expected Elyyr to show up. It showed that Helga would truly be a powerful High Priest!

Elyyr floated closer to the altar and took over the consecrations and blessings that were needed, but she cut everything down so that she was done in 12 minutes. Helga had been looking up at the sparkling deity with wide eyes the whole time.

Finally, Elyyr finished and looked to Nichua: "High Priestess, take over again. It's time for your first gift!" With that, she disappeared, leaving everyone in ectasis.

The High Priestess took her knife again and carefully slashed her wrist a tiny bit. Then she dropped the drops of blood on Helga's lips and spoke:

"Here is my first gift to you: my own blood. It contains the knowledge and skills of all the high priests before you.”

*

Year 2009:

Helga sat hunched over the table in her small apartment in Switzerland, carefully studying the script for the last geology exam.

Looking at Helga's curriculum vitae so far, one could believe that her education was senselessly jumbled: an apprenticeship as a janitor technician, at the same time a commercial apprenticeship with a specialized baccalaureate and then a three-year bachelor's degree in meteorology, geology and glaciology.

But looking at Helga's goal, the different educations made perfect sense.

After all, Helga would be taking over her parents' research station in Firrland. A wish she had had from an early age, when she had prepared expeditions with her father, watched her mother do the bookkeeping, and also repaired snow motorcycles or heaters.

When Helga finished the chapter, she sat back, relaxed, and looked at the large picture of the Zivik-2 emblazoned on the wall.

Because of the huge influx of researchers and, not least, enormous financial support, Helga's parents had had a new research station built. Zivik-2 stood right next to the buildings of Zivik-1, blending in with the landscape with its modern architecture. The warm springs that had already supplied Zivik-1 with heat and electricity now also heated the new station. The dome-shaped Plexiglas roof was the landmark of Zivik-2, and had been funded by NASA, who were experimenting there for future Mars missions.

The roof collected solar energy, stored heat, and withstood wind and extreme weather. The station had already achieved international fame. Unfortunately, Sunnio had to manage the station alone for several years, because Sabrina was increasingly suffering from severe osteoporosis and, after two fractures of the neck of the femur, had decided to give up the hard life in Shellia and move to Bergen in Norway to live with her sister. There she helped out as much as she could and took care of administrative matters. She was glad that Helga would soon take over everything.

Helga stretched her arms and was about to start the last chapter when the doorbell rang.

It was nine o'clock in the evening and Helga got up in wonder. She didn't know who had come to visit her. Or was it the neighbor demanding the vacuum cleaner back?

But when Helga looked through the peephole, she saw three men. One was European, but the other two definitely had Firrish features.

Helga tensed, a deep-seated fear gripped her and bad memories awoke.

Still looking through the peephole, she watched as the Firrlander rolled up his sleeve and showed her his Elyyr tattoos on his forearm.

Holy shit, thought Helga....

Helga had been sixteen when she had seen through the true face of the Elyyr Sect. As a kid, everything had been fine, everything was a big game. At school, the subject was called „Firrland traditions and folklore“. Here everything about Elyyr was told. And also in small plays ceremonies and rituals were acted out. After all, the children should not have to forget their ancestors and their culture. The games were continued even after school. For fun as they told each other. After all, no one wanted the traditions to die out:

She had regularly drunk Elyyrsblood and laughed when the others broke down. She had playfully worshipped Elyyr with the other children and they had performed small consecrations and sacrifices. The teachers and the elders read stories to them. Her father had always joined in, but Helga had quickly understood that her mother did not like the Firrland traditions. So she kept quiet about what she was doing and her grandmother Nichua as well as her father said that it was all okay. And so she had slipped deeper into it. The other children called her "civilized" - a swear word - because she was not a full Firrlander, but she wanted to show them!

She had passed all the exams. The summer hunter's exam at nine and the winter hunter's exam already at fifteen. But at sixteen she would move away to a boarding school in Switzerland, because her mother wanted her to know another life than just the Firrland wilderness. Helga was looking forward to this adventure. Already on Sunday she would fly.

But when they were practicing survival techniques with the other teenagers on Friday afternoon after school - it had been the last day of school - Nichua came.

Helga remembered well: Nichua was completely dressed in a valuable traditional clothing, she looked imposing, like a Stone Age chieftain. A leather cloak waved around her shoulders and everyone huddled down in front of her. The whole place became silent. Helga became aware of how many people were there, many more than just a few children and teenagers. Helga did not understand. Why the hell was everyone crouching down in front of her old grandmother? Only she and Nichua were still standing. Then Nichua nodded and everyone stood up and formed a loose circle around the two women.

Nichua had drawn a forged knife and pointed it at Helga: "Helga, Elyyr has chosen you as the future High Priestess. You will be ordained a priestess this very night. We have hidden everything from you and your mother long enough. You are old enough to know the truth. The truth about us. The truth about you."

When Nichua told her that she would now be ordained a priestess, she had not understood. Priest? What was that all about? Of course she knew the mythology surrounding Elyyr and knew from history lessons that a high priest had commanded everyone back then....but that was history...say hundreds of years ago. Or was it?

Suddenly everything fell into place in Helga's mind like a puzzle. The scales fell from her eyes. Her grandmother was the high priestess of the sect, she would be her successor. Everything suddenly made sense...she was so petrified by the realization that she had been fooled into believing everything that she followed along willy-nilly. She followed Nichua and the others a little further into the forest in a clearing, where many more Firrlanders were waiting.

Behind her she heard someone murmur, "Pff, I really don't understand why Nichua would choose a half-Firrlander to be High Priestess...she is too weak for that!"

With that, Helga's ambition was piqued and she was determined to become a priest no matter what it took to show everyone that she was a true Firrlander.

The game turned into bitter seriousness. Poisonous berries and other herbs made Helga fall into a trance. But she could remember almost everything, even if only vaguely; the members' thirst for blood when the sacrifice took place and the drummers working their human skulls. It seemed perfectly normal to everyone, including her colleagues who had always sworn it was all just a game.

Tattooing came back to Helga's mind when Nichua had tattooed the Elyyr and Priestess symbols on her forearm and sternum. Because until then she had no tattoos, unlike everyone else. Her mother had always been against it.

Her grandmother's words still echoed in her mind, "No, it's not a game. It was never a game. We had to lie to your mother and therefore to you. But now you are old enough to know the truth. You carry Elyyr's heritage, you will be the future high priestess."

But the scary part came after that.

Nichua had cut her wrist deeply, and while still drugged, Helga had drunk the blood. It had felt so normal, and as if in some kind of flashback, she kept seeing that scene in front of her.

And then a captured bear was let loose on her, but she only dimly remembered it. The bear stood in front of her and dots like targets flashed all over its body. Helga knew exactly where to stab with her spear. Everyone cheered and cheered for her as if it was the most normal thing in the world that she was about to engage in a gladiatorial battle against a bear. Finally, the bear was dead, and everyone came to congratulate Helga. It had been the penultimate test, the last one would take place during the consecration as High Priestess.

Everything could have been a drug dream, but there were more than enough videos and other footage showing the ceremony and the fight.

Only later, when the effect of the drugs dissipated, Helga realized everything: her world was collapsing. She had grown up in a sect, and the members had hidden everything from her. Her grandmother was the high priestess and she was expected to inherit. It was a sect that worshipped a deity, drank poison and made blood sacrifices. Members were drugged with drugs and poisonous mixture. Who knew what other abuses were taking place!!!

After this "incident" there was of course huge row in the family. Sabrina was furious with Nichua and Sunnio. And went to the police to press charges against Nichua. After all, she had drugged and tattooed her daughter. Helga never found out what happened at the police station, only that nothing happened.

Sabrina came back and also talked Helga into it: this was a sect, she had been tricked! She had to leave as soon as possible, otherwise she would be caught in the clutches of this drug-mafia. Helga was well aware of what cults were and the power they had over their members. Suddenly she became frightened, they had let a bear attack her! She could have died, but everyone had only cheered her on. These people had to be sick. With that, she packed her things and left Firrland as quickly as possible. She only felt sorry for her father, he was so proud of her and he believed in all the Elyyr crap.

She had then gone to boarding school and the anger about this whole Elyyr lie had slowly faded away - just as her homesickness for Firrland increased.

Helga learned to live in cities, go to the movies, and ride streetcars and buses with lots of people. But the wilderness of Firrland wouldn't let her go. There was a wild call in her deepest inside, as if she would never be happy again. Everything in her told her that she was in the wrong place.

For two years she did not return. And ignored all the letters from her grandmother asking her to come back at least to talk. But then the homesickness was too great and she decided to give it a try, maybe a solution could be found. After all, she did not want to live her life in exile, because she loved Firrland.

And indeed, Nichua was overjoyed that she returned and was not angry with her at all, she even blamed herself and apologized. "I shouldn't have done it this way, it was unfair of me to make you a priestess in this way without first instructing you in everything."

Nichua asked Helga not to turn her back on her culture and ancestors.

Helga declared straight away that she would never submit to a sect and that she should look for another high priestess. Nichua nodded kindly again and offered to continue practicing with the Elyyr members without participating in the rituals.

Helga had been stunned; she had expected to be banished. But instead, she was offered to simply continue as before, participating only in "club life." A deep feeling of happiness had permeated her.

Now Helga could not know that Nichua had rehearsed the apology with an actor, nor that the Quatrik and all had been working diligently on how to tie Helga down after all. Anyway, they had no choice, Elyyr wanted to see Helga as high priestess, so it had to be done. Maybe they could do it the easy way.

After the conversation, everything was almost as before. Helga again practiced survival and bushcraft techniques with her colleagues or went on multi-day excursions with her father. However, she was never again included in any ceremony or ritual.

Helga was happy, she had found a compromise and everything seemed fine.

But in the last year she received more letters or now e-mails from her grandmother, asking her if she really could not imagine becoming a high priestess.

Helga denied each time and was annoyed by the letters. Finally she called and said again clearly that she would never again get involved with the Elyyr Cult. That had been three months ago.

...and now they were at her door!

Her hand was trembling. She could not decide whether to open the door or not. But a deep certainty gripped her: If she didn't open it, she would never see Firrland again, wouldn't be able to see much at all. She would be killed. She had no choice but to open the door. As a matter of course, the three men entered and Helga closed the door behind them. All gathered in the small living room. For a few breaths there was an eerie silence, then the Firrland man spoke, "Renegade priestess, Elyyr herself sent us to bring you back ..."

He continued speaking, it was not the normal colloquial Firrlandish, which was anyway not at all like any Indo-European language. It was ritual Firrlandish. The differences were not great, both languages could be understood without effort. But the Ritual firrlandish had something very uncanny and primal about it. The Firrlander spoke of endless freedom, godlike power, wild nature, untamable winters. These were the introductory sentences spoken before a consecration. They made Helga's insides tremble in a way they never had before.

Then he handed her a vial. "The High Priestess sends it to you; let it be her penultimate gift. Drink it!" He added nothing more to these strange words and held out the vial to Helga.

There was blood in it, Helga recognized it at once. She did not dread it, after all, it was part of the traditions to drink a little blood from killed animals. As a small child, Nichua had always given her little glasses of blood to drink. Maybe it was the poison potion Elyyrsblood, but she had drunk it often, together with her friends. Then she had laughed when her comrades broke into convulsions after the smallest sips.

As if in an act of defiance, she grabbed the vessel, downing it all in one gulp.

The metallic taste was familiar, but she couldn't match it to any particular animal.

"What kind of animal was it?" she asked out of curiosity.

"It's blood from the High Priestess, your grandmother."

Helga thought of the priest's ordination; she had drunk it there, too.

"Why?" she asked suddenly with difficulty, something happening inside her. The blood spread, flowed into her bloodstream, penetrated the blood-brain barrier and caused her eyes to go black for a moment. Just as it had once before, during her ordination as a priestess. Then it was over, but her vision changed.

As if that sip had opened a door to a part of her memory. A new dimension filled her: centuries-old memories that had always lain dormant within her awoke. As if in a flashback, both men and their parlor transformed.

This situation had happened several times before. Sometimes Helga was male in the process, sometimes female, sometimes she faced a single person, sometimes a horde of Elyyr hunters waving Stone Age spears.

"Renegade priest, Elyyr sends us to bring you back...", she heard the words again and again. Even uttered them herself.

Chases, flying spears, rushing dogs, knives and arrows. Short scenes flashed like in a movie trailer, mostly she was the huntress, in some cases she experienced her own death.

Then the visions were over.

"Tuesday afternoon, your flight home is reserved."

An electronic plane ticket appeared in the Firrlander's hand.

"What if I don't come?" Helga was herself again. "What if I'm sick of this Elyyr crap. I don't have to go back, the earth is big enough to live on as it is."

A shrug and the reply, "If you don't come back, we'll kill you! Elyyr ordered us to!"

It wasn't a threat, it was a matter-of-fact statement.

"You are not in Firrland, here the police do not belong to the Elyyr cult. You will end up in jail."

Another shrug, "Then I'll go to jail."

He was in bitter earnest. The man would kill her, and then go to the police to turn himself in.

Helga tried another trick, "I can't just leave like this. What about my apartment, and my papers? Then I still have to exmatriculate and cancel my health insurance and phone provider."

"Tomorrow you have your last exam, so you have three days to pack up what you need. Patrick will take care of everything else. After all, there's internet and phone on Firrland, too."

He gestured to the man next to him, who had not yet said a word, and repeated in English, "Patrick will help you organize everything."

The European spoke up and said in Swiss German, "Yes, we will take care of everything."

Patrick himself had no idea what was going on.

The Firrlanders had rung his apartment doorbell three hours ago. He held a metal cylinder in his hand as he did so. When Patrick, a young lawyer, was still considering whether to open the door completely, a hologram suddenly appeared next to him. It was a goddess, a beautiful powerful goddess. A feeling of happiness he had never known flowed through him. He was ready to immediately do whatever the strange person asked of him. "Do whatever my servant tells you."

Patrick had nodded joyfully and the feeling of happiness turned into compulsion. But it was not an unpleasant compulsion, for he felt overjoyed at it. He would do anything for this stranger, no matter what the cost.

He knew Firrland from his trekking vacations two years ago, which he had spent there with his wife.

When the couple arrived, they were offered a day course where they could learn basic things about the wilderness. The offer was exceedingly tempting and with the other few tourists - for Firrland was still an insider tip among trekkers - they had participated. It had been very enriching. The Firrlanders were kind, showing them poisonous plants and warning them of one danger or another. They were given maps with marked areas where there was something special to see and others where it was better not to go; be it dangerous swamps or native sanctuaries. The course ended with a simple herbal juice and delicious smelling cookies, talking comfortably with the locals. He hadn't noticed any sudden change, but something had changed.

Now he was standing in the living room of a stranger, he hadn't understood what the two of them had been talking about, but the tone of voice suggested it was a matter of life and death. And he had just agreed to clean out this woman's apartment as well as take all the administrative steps for her to leave.

"So it's as simple as that. Either I come or I get killed?"

"Yes."

"With what?" Helga couldn't think of anything better to say back. The man lifted his jacket, revealing a forged dagger.

More flashbacks flooded through her and she saw herself slitting someone's throat. Several times...many times....

Well, there was not much choice and Helga decided to admit defeat. She snatched the ticket out of the Firrlander's hand.

"Okay, tell your stupid goddess and my senile grandmother that I'm coming back. I'll talk it out with them personally. They're in for a treat!" She said defiantly.

The Firrlander smiled slightly and nodded respectfully.

"I will pass on your message, renegade priestess.“

*

Helga balanced her javelin briefly, then smashed it forward. The short spear hit the target with pinpoint accuracy.

Actually, the spear was not a real spear but a thin, arm-length spear, more like an arrow.

Since she had taken archery as a physical education subject at university a year ago, Helga had a key to the shooting cellar. Once the archery instructor was satisfied that the Firrland spear thrower did no more damage than an arrow on the target, she was allowed to practice with it as well.

In Firrland, archery was not very common. The spear thrower was the common hunting weapon. It was an evolution of the normal spear thrower, which was just an extension of the arm. The Firrland spear thrower usually consisted of two parts tied together with sinews. Both parts were folded together and the throwing spear was fixed on them. When thrown, they unfolded and catapulted the throwing spear much farther than a normal spear thrower. As with the bow, a wide variety of types of these had evolved in Firrland. Helga was currently using the small, two-piece summer thrower, as it was called, because it was built for woods, where there was little room to lunge, and also didn't need to shoot as far. When retreating after the throw, the thrower could be returned directly to the starting position and fitted with a new throwing spear.

There was also the winter thrower, this was three-part and longer. After that, there were various other types, which allowed, for example, an additional rotation as in a slingshot.

Another spear crashed into the target. I can participate in the Olympic Games soon. Too bad precision javelin throwing is not a discipline, she thought gleefully, and smashed another javelin ... oops, a Robin Hood, damn it. Helga had just split the other spear down the middle.

She hadn't had any more of those weird flashbacks, but somehow she had changed. During the exam she had been more focused than ever and now this terrific performance with the javelin. She felt like she always knew exactly where she was, as if she had a built-in GPS. Even as a child she had experienced such feelings, but now it was even more pronounced. Every now and then she would see bright spots of color on the bodies of others, just like when she was fighting the bear.

Helga didn't know what was going on, but she liked it.

Patrick had picked her up from the university at noon. He had already written her notice and gone to the community to get all the necessary info and forms when she moved back to Firrland.

He had taken pictures of the furniture Helga no longer wanted to take with her and had already called a trucking company to arrange for transportation of Helga's other belongings. Finally, she had asked him, "Why are you doing this anyway?"

He had looked at her with a rapt look. "I don't know exactly, but it's the right thing for me to do, and I enjoy it. I've never been so happy," had been his vague reply.

She glanced at the clock, it was nine o'clock at night, time for Helga to go home.

There were a lot of people in the street, after all it was Friday, plus it was a beautiful early summer day and it was still light out.

As she walked a little further up the street, two men approached her. They were visibly tipsy at this early hour. One of them jokingly tried to block her way.

Finally Helga had enough, she jostled the man and pressed with her elbow on one of the bright spots on his ribs. The man suddenly gasped and grabbed his chest as he slumped. The other man, seemed shocked he didn't even seem to think that Helga was to blame.

"You shouldn't have drunk that stuff, come on..." he dragged his buddy to a bench.

Helga's anger turned to concern at first, but the man was fine again. And he demanded more liquor from his friend.

The glowing dots she saw were probably some kind of nerve pressure points, she thought, wondering how it was possible to see something like that.

*

Helgas Childhood:

"Come on faster, or there won't be any flames." Five-year-old Helga and several other peers of the same age rubbed diligently at their piece of wood, trying to start a fire with it. Helga thought longingly of matches or a lighter. With these, she would have started a pretty fire in seconds. But the teenager who was guiding her today didn't let up. "You are not allowed to use matches and lighters again until you can start a fire without them. And remember, in the old days you were only allowed to use tools you made yourself."

In fact, just a few years ago, the Elyyr Cult - or Firrland Survival and Bushcraft Club, as it was called in public- had been much stricter. You only learned to throw a spear if you had built your own spear. Just as you were only allowed to carry a knife if you had forged it yourself. Children and young people had to be content with self-made stone or bone tools.

It was the same with clothes or furs. First you had to kill the animal, then you had to learn how to make the leather until you were finally allowed to wear your own hunter's outfit.

Today people were much more liberal. A child was already allowed to gut an animal with a knife, even though he had not yet forged it. Only when another excursion took place, during which the youngest stayed in the forest for several days to collect metal ores and build a crude forge, did they learn the art of forging. Even if only at an elementary level.

For today it was no longer possible for Elyyr members to forge their own pistols or rifles. One had gone over to transmit this knowledge to them only theoretically. It was the same with GPS and other high-tech devices, which also had to be learned.

The older members complained that there was always more to cram. In the past, one had gotten by with little: Fishing, hunting, spear throwing, fire making, shelter building, orientation to the stars, herb gathering, a little blacksmithing, a little tanning, tracking, and other survival or bushcraft knowledge.

But today a whole series of new knowledge was added: interpreting satellite maps, navigation, modern weaponry, first aid and medicine, repairing snow motorcycles, modern communication techniques and much more.

The younger generation did not find this extensive learning difficult. But the old people, who were used to learning only basic techniques and then perfecting them throughout their lives, found it extremely difficult to keep up. But Nichua did not tolerate slacking; all members had to be able to do a little bit of everything and acquire some special skills and knowledge.

"It's smoking," cheered one of the children and immediately tried to extend the small flame, but it went out again. The other children rubbed all the more to be the first to light the fire and thus take the praise of the leaders for themselves. Of course, they also wanted to escape the punishments they would receive if they did badly or did something wrong. Helga didn't think the punishments were very bad and didn't understand why her buddies trembled before them.

"You're civilized, you don't understand," they told her. Helga hated it, because 'civilized' was a swear word in Firrlandic. She thought it was an impertinence to be called that just because she was half-European, so she always tried extra hard to be better than the others.

Nichua knew this, and it was she who instructed the other leaders to spur Helga's ambition and competition with the other children. This was done in part by sabotaging Helga's equipment - as they did today when they gave her a soft wood. For she was much better than the children her age, and this was typical of the succession of the high priests. This could be verified in the archives, where exactly the progress, achievements, and weaknesses of all the members were recorded - and no one had been as advanced at five as Helga.

At the back of the forest, the high-pitched whistles of hunters could be heard, as a group of youths practiced their driving hunts.

Helga looked down at her homemade hunter's whistle dangling around her neck. It was already the fourth one she had made from a twig and a blade of grass. Meanwhile, she could whistle the right notes without the aid. It was so natural to her, as if she had always done it.

Hunter whistles were a language unto themselves. There were three pitches, each whistled short or long. A small vocabulary emerged from the various combinations.

Helga's sensitive ears now just perceived a familiar combination: high-short, medium-short, high-long. This meant "visual contact with the prey."

In this case, the prey was played by another teenager.

What Helga did not know was that the youth playing the prey had to do this as a punishment. She also did not know that the simple helmet with antlers that he wore was not there just to mark him as prey, nor was the thick leather dress. Indeed, the helmet was well padded. The other Elyyr hunters actually shot at him with blunted spears. Their heads left a characteristic imprint for each hunter when it hit the leather clothing.

The hunt was not a game. The fleeing boy was hounded by his colleagues until he was completely exhausted or they somehow got him otherwise. Like a real wild animal, he was tied on a pole and taken back to the square.

It was late when the hunting party returned like this.

Helga had long since been picked up by her father. The other children, as well as all the other Elyyr members present who had been practicing up to this point, gathered around the troop.

The bound boy was thrown roughly to the ground, yet he made no sound. The hunters looked to the elders who had supervised the whole hunt. Ajoischa glanced at the stopwatch.

"We started at 4 p.m., so it took you six hours."

That was too much, because in the small training forest you should catch a prey, even well hidden, in half the time.

"Untie him and spread the dress."

The boy was untied and freed from his thick costume. His head was flushed, but he grinned maliciously. He had done his thing well, although the shame of being dragged back to camp like this was evident on his face.

The elders were now evaluating how many spears had been thrown, how many had hit at all. They discussed with each other for a while, while the boys drank water and patted each other on the shoulders.

"Let's get to the evaluation: Ina hit three times out of seven shots, but was always behind the others and broke off an hour earlier due to weakness. Bad. Mauk threw only four spears. But it was he who tracked down the prey several times and correctly whistled their position to the others and guided them. Good."

The other five youngsters were criticized or praised in turn. "Thomas hit once out of six shots and was hit hard in the stomach by the prey as he tried to bring them to the ground. In real life, that would have been a mortal wound. Very bad. And now Anit, the prey. He acted like a reindeer the whole time and was hit a total of eleven times. All told, he kept eight armed hunters on their toes for six hours and mortally wounded one. The prey won, the hunters suffered a heavy loss, and probably should have called off the hunt at that point.

Thomas was effectively killed, and he will be punished accordingly. Mauk is also punished. Reason: poor performance. And a general punishment for the losers."

Anit, who played the reindeer, stood up and let the other members celebrate him, because it rarely happened that the prey won. Most of the time it was 'killed' within the normal time and brought back. Punishments were always given. A prey caught within an hour usually still remained tied on the pole for several hours while the hunters celebrated their triumph.

Anit, for his part, was punished for not aiming his spear sling well and thus missing the target several times. He knew that Mauk, who had not performed well, would have to play the prey next week. That was the usual penalty. The punishments for being killed, were usually much more draconian, but despite their nastiness, always had a certain learning effect: mere whipping or other corporal punishment did not exist.

For example, Thomas knew of a boy who was tied to a tree a good twenty kilometers away for the same mistake and had to free himself there. The Elyyr cult, before the individual clans united, had always been a warrior cult, where people occasionally attacked, killed or captured each other. This was still reflected in the punishments.