Rachel closed her eyes and breathed out slowly as she felt a vague heat signature coming from the north. She saw a red blob form into a recognizable shape in her mind. "Its a deer, alone, average size I think." She said with her eyes still closed, her face frowning as she tried to concentrate. She turned and hushed the group of laughing drunk men behind her. They bared their ugly teeth in return to the black-haired girl and went back to their laughing. She looked away in disgust and focused on her job. She shuffled around trying to lock the location of the feeling she felt.

"It’s around 500 steps from here, north." She approximated. Every creature had a unique warmth to them. Rachel had been just eight years old when she realized she could sense it and twelve when she realized she could approximate its distance. And it hadn’t taken long after that to be noticed by Gorham, the white-haired leader of the southern tribe she grew up in - Fenland Tribe. This gift of hers made her tribe the most famous around the Old Neanderlands. Now at seventeen, she was delighted to be taken for every hunt to help detect their prey, much to the horror of the women of her tribe. They had no interest in hunting or fighting, which Rachel didn’t understand.

"Good girl. Hunters! North we go." Gorham shouted to the group of ten men behind him who cheered back in unison as they gathered up their weapons.

"Its moving Gorham. Moving further north." Rachel continued getting up.

"Listen to that fellas? Hurry up and gather yer things." Gorham screamed impatiently. He let out a sigh of despair as he saw the stumbling men grinning behind him and quickly moved out of the way as one of them rushed to the side to hurl.

Rachel glared angrily at the vomiting man. "Men are all fools. Where did they get the ale from anyways?"

"Stole it a few days back from a group of Settlers that were on their way to the mines. It’s easy to take things off those god loving fellas when you show them a knife." Gorham grinned showing what was left of his set of teeth. Most of the teeth had fallen from the left side of his mouth and those that managed to stay were yellow and rotten.

"Were my parents like this?" Rachel knew it annoyed Gorham to talk about this topic. But she found ways to sneak in the topic every now and then.

Gorham’s grin quickly turned into a scowl. "To hell with your parents." He muttered gesturing the group of men to follow him. "How many times do I have to tell ye I don’t know em. My woman got ya for a piece of bread and some -" 

"-eggs. Yes, yes I know." Rachel continued rolling her eyes at how much she was worth. She started walking in the direction of the hunt.

"Did they have this birthmark? Do you know at least that?" She pointing to her right wrist where a pitch-black unusual mark was seen, as large as the nail on her little finger.

Gorham shook his head and walked on. No one knew much about her parents even Gorham, who got her as a baby, didn’t know. Whenever she tried to remember them, all she could remember was a warm glow that made her feel safe. She was part of the Fenland tribe for as long as she can remember. The women of the tribe, who took care of her, always stayed near the camps near Fenland lake, south of the great Neander River that ran across the land. While they gathered berries and knit clothes all day, she grew up learning to fend off the boys that made fun of and pulled her hair and stole her share of the food. It didn’t take long for her to realize she didn’t fit in with the group of brown-haired humans and she had to fight to keep them off ever since she could walk. The women she complained to told her to stay away from men. Men will be men. They said day after day. Men are fools. She had replied each time. All her life she saw women complying with the wishes of men and she swore to herself she wouldn’t become like them. It was an old man that eventually told her what she wanted to hear all along. He told her everyone had to fight for their place in the tribe. She had learned from then that a knife was her best friend. The boys from then on thought twice before picking on her.  

"Stop. It’s close." Rachel whispered holding out a hand to the sobering men behind her.

"Its been more than 500 steps, you silly girl." One of the men grumbled behind her.

"It’s in front of us now fool." She snapped back, gesturing the man to be silent. It was the fourth hunt of the day. The last three had failed as the men were too drunk. They had never been this far north. She could hear the monstrous flow of the Neander river. She crouched down and silently yet quickly drew her knife. The men readied their spear and spread out in different directions as gestured by Gorham. Rachel nodded to Gorham before quickly moving towards the target, her eyes fixed on the deer she had spend the past hour tracking. The deer stopped nibbling and straightened up, listening for the slightest of noise that hinted at trouble. Rachel stopped and held her breath, she glanced to the men who were carefully moving closer to the final part of the hunt. They let their instincts run their bodies as they closed in for the kill. Rachel counted to three, took a deep breath and rushed towards the deer, knife in her hand. It wasn’t her job to make the killing shot. Her role was to scare the animal into running in the opposite direction, towards the group of men waiting with spears. It was the ones with the spears risking death and she was considered too important to be injured. She watched as the deer dashed towards the hunters and fell as the spears found their mark. One of the men rushed with a knife to make the killing strike as the deer lay on the ground bleeding. The men cheered as they came to retrieve their spears and tie the meat to the sticks to be taken back to camp. They would have been hunting for days if it weren’t for her skill. 

Rachel huffed angrily and shook her head in disappointment. She hated them all, especially the way they treated her like a prized possession. As a child, if she tried to get out of their sights alone, it didn’t take much time for them to overpower her. It had angered her to feel weak and so she had practiced day and night to learn to survive. Now, she would have a knife at their throats before they could even think about touching her. I’m not one of the women back at camp to let the likes of you come near me. She would remind them, smiling at how far she had come. And as long as Gorham could use her gift for his tribe, he would tell the men to back off. But she feared the day Gorham would be replaced by a man that didn’t think much of her gift. Men are fools. She thought to herself for the millionth time that day. 

Rachel heard Gorham screaming to keep everyone in order as she watched the distant mountains of the west from the top of a tall tree, away from the cheering and laughing men below her. It was one of her favorite past times to lie back and daydream. She would remember the stories told by the old women back at the camp of strange dangerous creatures that breathed fire that were found beyond the mountains. It had fascinated her as a kid and although she was now old enough to realize it couldn’t be true, she was still curious to know if anything existed behind those tall mountains. The southern tribe used to camp nearer to the mountains a few months when the animals flocked there. They even stayed there when people started to go missing. It was, however, the stories of flying giant birds and strange animals that captured and ate people that finally got them to avoid the west and travel east. And hence the southern tribe became the Fenland Tribe. 

As the sound of the river drifted her off to sleep, she found herself thinking about the mountains. Did the world end after the mountains? Or was there another land there, with different people? Would they be more merry and kind or would they be fools like the ones she was used to? A strange feeling broke her thoughts. She quickly sat up and concentrated. She felt a lot of heat all around her but she wasn’t concerned with any of them. The one she just felt, was different. It was only there for a second, but it felt more...powerful and scary. It was large enough to wake her up. She stood up on the branch and closed her eyes, concentrating. Suddenly she felt a chill down her spine as she felt the warmth of raw power coming from the east. And as fast as it came, it disappeared. An elephant? No. Although she had never seen one before, she knew no living creature was this large. And the way the heat came and disappeared. It was as if trying to get her attention. No living creature could do that. A searing pain over the birthmark broke her thoughts yet again. As she heard Gorham calling for her, she massaged her wrist and she climbed down the tree to head with the group back to their camps. She knew it meant something. She had never been north of the Neander River. Did it have the answers to her questions? What was calling to her? Whatever it was, it felt larger than anything she had heard of. It had felt larger than the tree she was on too. It both excited and scared her.  

"Gorham. What’s north of the river, to the east?" Rachel casually asked as they were walking back to Fenland Lake. 

"North is the Bamboo forest. Now that’s the wood we use for building the camp. Strong stuff. More north, ye have the Hilland strip, nothin but green hills all around. Not a tree in sight. Ye follow the green, you reach the northern Dweller camps. My ol’ home was there. Till me brother took it from right under me nose." Gorham complained. He took a long sip of the ale and grinned. "Expect nothin more from a bastard." 

"And east?" Rachel pushed impatiently. 

"Let’s see now girl... east is a small forest and then... yes!" His face brightened up proudly as he remembered a detail. "The Palm Gatherin. The tallest palm trees ye ever saw. It surrounds the statue of the earth dragon. Greatest statue ever built by a human. They say it warms ye in the winter." He proudly exclaimed, happy that his memory still knew the lands and the stories. 

Rachel’s eyes widened at the mention of the dragon. Could that be it? Was that the warmth she felt? But how can a mere statue give off so much heat? It was more than any creature ever could. She decided then and there that she must see it for herself.     

"Can we go there to see it? Please?" She asked pleading. She had never asked anything from Gurham. It was the first time she truly wanted anything this bad. And Gurham could sense she meant it. He turned to study her curiously. 

"Why? All of a sudden?" He questioned curiously. 

"I want to see the greatest statue ever built. It’s interesting." Rachel replied hoping it was enough. 

"Nah. Its at least a fortnight away. Too far." Gorham decided after staring at her for some time. 

Rachel made an angry noise. "We move camp for a month. We can camp in the forests after the green hills!" Rachel suggested with a small smile. 

Gorham shook his head immediately. "That’s the route the Settlers take to reach the mines. Not safe for women." He grunted.

"It doesn’t matter. I can help you steal from them Settlers. We can have food for weeks then. Maybe more Ale? Right?" Rachel said slyly watching his face light up when she mentioned the Ale. 

"Ay. Tell the women to pack when we reach camp. We leave in a week, at dawn." Gorham agreed reluctantly.

Rachel couldn’t help but smile. "Men really are fools," She thought as she ran ahead into the familiar path between the trees that lead the way to the camp.