This is chapter 1 of a somewhat science-y short story I wrote called “Tilda and the Goja Berries.” Read all of “Tilda and the Goja Berries” here.
Tilda had come age. Like all newly minted adults of Arborea it was therefore her duty to report to the Head Villager. However, also like all newly minted young adults she had spent the night before her coming of age in merriment and was, well… a little hung over.
Under her purple cape Tilda was therefore a bit of a sweaty mess and her temples felt as though rail workers were striking pins into them every few seconds. Just as the head pain would subside, a bout of nausea would rise in her stomach and she cursed herself thinking, “you can be the life of the party without getting drunk… ugggghhhh.”
With the most recent bout of nausea gone, Tilda sluggishly pushed through the doors to the great hall of the village elders. The hall was little more than an oversized cabin, but it was much prized by all the villagers and the only building with metal doors in the whole village. The doors were laden with metalwork wrought into the creatures of Arborea. Their coolness was soothing to the touch, but Tilda had little time to contemplate their beauty. As soon as the doors opened, Tilda was greeted by the scolding voice of the head villager – “You’re late.” she said.
The head villager was seated at the raised head of a large wooden table carved similarly to the door. Tilda was particularly fond of the badger bear napping near the closest corner of the table and, even today, it’s sleepy face gave her comfort and she smiled as she stared down at the cuddly bear.
“Your attention Tilda,” said the head villager sternly but also with clear boredom and annoyance. She couldn’t believe that she had to deal with yet another hung-over twenty something.
“Yes, head villager,” said Tilda throwing on a smile she wasn’t sure how long she could keep.
“Right.” said the head villager, “so you’ve come of age. Now you must complete your deed of service to the village. What you do after the deed is of no importance to us, but you must first earn your freedom through service.”
“Service?” asked Tilda. She was more than a little unsure of her belief in this ridiculous practice, but her brain was far too broken at the moment to mount any more thoughtful questions about it.
“Yes. Service.” said the head villager, “You should take pride in the fact that you even get to serve. Every person who comes of age in Arborea gets a chance to prove him or herself, but not all succeed. Don’t you want to prove yourself?”
Now, you might think that the head villager made the above statements with some sort of exuberance or pride, but true to her deepest self, it was all stated in dry, matter of fact tones.
“Oh…” said Tilda, “okay…” but really she was just confused and it wasn’t the hangover. You see, Tilda didn’t think it was that simple. You don’t just complete some task and therefore come of age and “prove yourself” … whatever that meant. She had seen plenty of people come home from their “deeds” after coming of age and all they did was go back and work on the family farm or whatever.
Being from a family of metal crafters Tilda dreaded completing her task and returning home just to continue the family business. Not that she didn’t think her parents and brother were great at metal work – really they turned it into a art, but she just didn’t get any joy out of it.
Unfortunately, Tilda didn’t have time to express all of this.
“Great.” said the Head Villager curtly, “Now for your task.”
The Head Villager began mumbling as she read down a piece of paper paper in front of her.
“Ah. Your task is one of the most prestigious in all of Arborea.”
“Errr Cool?” said Tilda, another wave of nausea streaming over her.
“You, Tilda, will find 3 Goja berries and return them to Arborea.”
“Um… right,” said Tilda a perplexed look on her face.
“Of course,” said the head villager, “we want you to be prepared. Please ask any questions you might have.”
“Right, soooo, what’s a Goja berry and also… why?” asked Tilda, her stomach churning.
“Easy questions.” said the Head Villager. “Goja berries are the only things known to keep the Goja monster asleep. Why? Because if the Goja monster wakes up, he’ll destroy the village.”
At the conclusion of the above statements, the chorus of pain in Tilda’s head swelled to its raucous climax and she could do little more than say thank you and slump out of the room desperate to rest her head on something cool.
Tilda could feel the Head Villager’s eyes rolling as she said, “Get some sleep and we’ll send a map with more details to your cabin.”
As Tilda was leaving the hall, her friend Granite entered. His coming of age had coincided with her own and he was part of the reason Tilda was in so much pain today. Though great friends with Granite, she couldn’t stand to let the brute outshine her at any party.
Tilda rested her head against the ice cold metal of the great hall’s door as Granite was given the details of his own coming of age task. The doors were her father’s work and, by all accounts, outshone the handiwork of the table. Tilda looked down and to the right, scanning for her beloved Goja bear. As she was searching, she distinctly heard the Head Villager speaking to Granite, “Your task is one of the most prestigious in all of Arborea. You will find 3 Goja berries and return them to Arborea.”
At the close of this statement, Tilda’s eyes found the region where the Goja bear should have been. Strangely, the Goja bear had been replaced with an enormous catfish.