My contribution to the deadlinesforwriters short story challenge August 2025. The prompt was „What does it mean?“ and the required word count was 1500.
Picture by Dmitrijs Bojarovs auf Pixabay
Watching Over Them
It had been surprisingly easy to become the village’s wise woman. Selina had mostly had to wait for her hair to turn greyish and to have an opinion on everything. She had admired the wise woman before her, who always knew what to do and how to guide the community into doing the right thing.
The cave came with the position, as did a steady stream of produce. Now and then she received some extra treats when another couple of parents had seen their offspring happily married.
There were markings at the back of the cave that even she could not translate. The one who had lived here before her had told her about all the images drawn on the walls over the ages. They were stories about the sowing and the harvest, about births and deaths, about change and tradition and eternity.
It was a mostly solitary life, but this plateau up the hill offered an amazing view over the valley, the cave was dry and cosy, and she had everything she needed. And she also enjoyed having people come up here every other day to ask her for guidance.
For a while it seemed as if this particular morning was going to be quiet. Selina was treated to almost an hour of sipping tea at her fireplace and watching the sunrise before she heard the footsteps coming up towards her.
Part of them sounded like Wulf, much to her surprise. He had been to see her just yesterday, most likely not because he wanted to. His mother would have to have him receive the same advice a few more times until he would be able to convince one of the village girls that he was good company.
The other person turned out to be Frack, the other major influence on Wulf. It was surprising the two of them were friends. Wulf was short and chubby, Frack tall and muscular. But at the moment they looked very much alike, their faces bright red, maybe not just from the hurried climb.
‘You have to come down to the village! The harvest is in danger, and we need you to sort it out! They’ll listen to you!’ Frack shouted.
‘What exactly is the matter?’ Selina asked, but the boys had already turned around and started their journey back downhill, beckoning her to follow.
Selina stared after them for a moment, then got her staff from the cave. This had better be serious. The narrow path up and down the hill was rocky and overgrown with spiky shrubs. She made a mental note to have the young folk do some clearing work soon.
The village itself was situated in a fertile valley and surrounded by old fruit trees usually heavy with apples and pears this time of year. It consisted of honey-coloured, thatched houses built in rings around the centre square. Around it was farmland that everyone worked on together, mostly in harmony. Today the place was not that peaceful, however.
She found all the villagers in the centre square shouting over each other. There were also a few people she had not seen before. These new villagers stood to the side, their arms crossed and their faces stormy. Unlike the usual black, brown and grey, they had fiery red hair and fair, freckled faces.
When the squabblers noticed Selina, they gradually calmed down enough for her to ask what was going on.
One of the older women pointed towards the community wheat field and said,
‘Look for yourself! The grain is dying! What are we going to eat in the winter?’
Selina eyed the field adjacent to the square and noticed that the wheat indeed looked very strange. There were dark brown patches all over; none of the stalks carried the usual lush ears of grain.
‘They did this!’ shouted someone from the back of the fold.
Selina’s gaze travelled across the villagers. Some of them shrank away from her piercing grey eyes.
‘Who did what?’
This time it was Frack who spoke up. He didn’t hide behind anyone.
‘The new ones. Look at them! They must have done something during sowing! This never happened before they came here.’
Several villagers mumbled their agreement. Others looked at the ground and shuffled their feet.
The voice from the back piped up again:
‘Do something! Tell them to leave!’
Selina asked, ‘You want me to get rid of the newcomers for you? Really?’
Everyone looked up at her and she saw was sea of hopeful faces. They had had someone to think for them for too long, and she knew what she had to do. She pointed at Frack, one of the old women and one of the strangers.
‘You three! With me!’
She turned around and stormed back up the hill, at first grinning at how they quickly broke out into wheezes behind her. Then she shook her head and slowed down a bit.
When they reached Selina’s plateau, she lit a torch at her fireplace.
‘Come with me,’ she said as she disappeared into the darkness.
The others followed, ducking their heads. Soon she had found the first ancient drawing she wanted to show them. It was a stick figure holding a sack and throwing little bits to the ground.
‘See this villager? He brought the knowledge of farming. When he joined the community, they had food to store for the winter.’
Selina showed them another image. It was of another figure sitting cross-legged between bowls, flasks and other materials.
‘Look at her! She had the gift of healing. After she arrived here, sickness was no longer the death sentence it used to be.’
She looked at three frowns in front of her.
‘There’s more! See this one? They knew how to find water, even in the driest of summers. This didn’t just help the others quench their thirst. They made life more peaceful in doing so.’
The third drawing she pointed at was of someone kneeling and touching their hands to the ground. Selina went on showing them different drawings from different time periods and explaining the gifts that each of those ancestors had brought to the community.
Eventually they stood in front of a drawing that at first glance seemed abstract and purely geometrical in nature. A few upright parallel lines with curls rising from the tips. To the left of this pattern, there were irregular dark patches. To the right, there were circles filled with a brownish pigment. Selina trailed the ochre with her fingertips and smiled.
‘At last I understand what this means. It has happened before. And the ancient villager very obviously survived. So this is going to be my last piece of advice for you: Burn the field. Make sure you burn it all. For the winter, you will gather as many nuts as you can, like the ancients did in their days. Tell the others about what I showed you. If they want, take them up here and let them see for themselves. And then you have to decide on your own.’
The old woman pulled at Selina’s cape and asked, ‘What do you mean, your last piece of advice?’
Selina gave the woman a hug, smiling into the long white hair and patting her back.
‘I have made my decision. Now you will have to make yours.’
The stranger had gone back to marvel at all the artful messages from the past. She touched one that looked like a portrait of her. The person in the image had strikingly red hair and looked as if she was waving at the viewer. She glanced back at Selina, who had picked up a dark piece of rock.
Frack had placed his hands on his hips. He still wore his frown and huffed.
‘If you ask me, I’m not impressed. They still need to go.’
Selina placed her free hand on his shoulder and spoke gently but firmly.
‘I am asking you. And then again, I am not just asking you. Tell the others what you saw. Tell them to burn the wheat and collect other food to store for the winter. Go back to the others, the three of you. Because now I will add my own message.’
With that, Selina ushered the involuntary delegation towards the exit. She watched them disappear behind the brambles and drew a deep breath. Then she scraped the rock across the cave wall. She drew a woman with long grey hair, a cape and a staff. The woman in the drawing walked out of the cave towards a group of trees and little houses.
She stood back to appreciate her artwork. Then she nodded and took her staff and her bundle. She poured the cold tea on the fire, threw a last look back into her cave and finally left for the path down the hill.
In the end it was surprisingly easy sacrificing the position of the wise woman in order for the village to have a future.
Like my contribution to the story challenge August 2025? On my blog you can find and read more of my stories!
Schreibe einen Kommentar