1711 after the second apocalypse
The days were warm. The tools left by my grandfather Aakan helped me and my mother survive the scorched landscape of Vearda. Summer gave us plenty of crops for harvest and animals were abundant. Life was prosperous.
My mother, Maelaki, was crafting a harp for me to practice alongside her. She tried to hide it from me since she was going to give it to me for my tenth birthday, but I knew what it was. She had shaved her head with one of grandfather's knives to use her hair for the strings of the harp. They would be beautiful amber strings when she finishes them.
The twin suns rose, the golden and amber suns. Morning light filled our yurt with light. Birds chirped. The trees lush rustling above us. Mother was preparing for a hunt. I wanted to join her desperately. I needed to kill a stag to prove myself to her before she would let me wander the forest on my own.
My voice was tender, anxious even, "Mother, can I join your hunt?"
"Not yet Sekan."
It was nearly a month before I dared ask again. But again a morning rose and then I mustered up courage to ask again.
"Mother, can I join your hunt?"
"If you join, we return with a stag by your own shot. We do not return until then."