Causality

Aouicha was like every other woman in the village of Ain El Louh — living for a single purpose: bearing children, building a happy family, and honoring men, the gods, mothers, then elders, and on rare occasions, even animals.
Throughout her twenty years of life, she believed herself the luckiest woman in the world. Her marriage to the man she loved had only confirmed this, sparing her the nightmare of the mandatory marriage season. This deepened her love, and she vowed to obey her husband, Boutroud — and strangely enough, he obeyed her too, never once raising his voice at her except twice in all those years.
By this day, the matter hadn't begun only now — it had been building for a full year of rumors. Some gave them healing herbs out of pity; others asked out of mockery and envy, until the same question settled on every tongue: "When will you finally be blessed with a child, Aouicha?"
Aouicha answered patiently, reminding them that such matters rested with the gods alone. But her answer only opened the door to more talk, and they spoke freely in front of her. She soon understood what truly drove them was envy — envy of her beautiful bond with her husband. So she isolated herself, waiting for the child to come and silence their mouths. But when the words began coming from her own husband's lips, she could bear it no longer, and all that her heart had carried burst out at once:
"You traitor! You should be the one staying silent — you're the barren one. I was ready to bear this in silence, but you... you..."
His fingers were already trembling; the thought of striking her had crossed his mind. But unfortunately, he failed to hold back the wave rising in his chest, and struck her hard enough that she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Then, after an unknown stretch of time, and quite suddenly, his voice began again, murmuring calmly as though nothing had happened:
"I only wonder — why don't we visit Tata? Perhaps we'll learn the reasons."
Then he stared at her pale face, and beneath the firelight's reflection, he added:
"I can't believe that actually came from your mouth."
Aouicha felt dizzy, barely able to stand, for his words terrified her more than any storm she'd expected.
Suddenly, he seized her hand, and without waiting, threw the door open to the wind. Pain was the last thing on Aouicha's mind as she was pulled along barefoot, him urging her to hurry at every turn. They hadn't walked far before Tata appeared before them — beside a tree whose leaves grew downward stood a strange woman, a dark blue parrot perched on her shoulder, barely visible in the dark, heavy enough to press her shoulder down, yet she showed no discomfort — not from its weight, nor from its claws digging firmly into her flesh. A strange mixture of burnt herbs and old wood after months of rain surrounded her.
Boutroud felt Aouicha's resistance and finally let go of her hand. They stood at a distance close enough to hear her voice. It was calm, yet it carried an unsettling edge — piercing the ear despite its calmness.
"I won't leave you walking barefoot. May the gods protect you both from the evil of men."
Then, in secret, she whispered to herself and to the parrot on her shoulder:
"Of course I won't let her walk barefoot."
Then she raised her voice further and declared:
"I am here by the will of the gods: you are among the most wretched of their creatures on this earth."
She hadn't moved an inch from where she stood, which made Boutroud think it was the parrot speaking, not her.
"And did your gods ever care about us?" Boutroud sneered bitterly.
Aouicha, unable to hold back, stepped forward to ask:
"Wretched... just because of a child?"
Boutroud grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him, waiting for the answer.
In response, Tata stepped closer — close enough for her eyes to gleam beneath her wrinkles — and smiled for the first time:
"Of course, it isn't the only reason, but its presence matters to you regardless. There's no need to worry anymore — nine months from today, you shall be blessed with one."
Boutroud turned his head to ask his wife:
"Do you mean she's pregnant?"
"Lies!" Aouicha screamed.
She pushed her husband back and stepped forward herself, her tone firm, her expression utterly transformed — enough that Tata herself felt a chill run through her soul. Tata hurried to clarify:
"Let me finish. What I've received in the vision is that you've been cursed by someone. The only path to a child that unites you both is this: bring a goat pregnant for the first time, and feed it a drop of your blood throughout its pregnancy. When nine months pass, strangle it with a rope, hang it from a tree, then cut a small opening for the newborn to breathe through. On that very night, the child will tear through the sacrifice's skin to be born alive — a child of yours both, carrying both your blood."
With her hand, dyed entirely black, she pointed behind her and continued:
"This very tree."
A strong wind blew as she finished speaking, as though pushing the couple away. Boutroud took his wife's hand, ready to leave without even a farewell. But beside him, Aouicha collapsed in tears — deep down, she already felt they were cursed.
Unable to bear seeing his wife like this, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and murmured close to her ear:
"Just a child... we only need patience."
Tata heard this and replied as she drew closer:
"Patience may help — if you aren't cursed."
Boutroud growled, warning her not to come any closer, and shouted:
"Then why did the gods let them curse us?"
Tata stopped where she stood and directed her answer to Aouicha instead:
"You've always been protected, Aouicha. And after just three years without that protection, look what's happening to you. The child will come and break the curse, blessing you and your husband once more."
Was I protected? she wondered silently, trying to grasp the meaning of Tata's words.
As she pondered, she noticed Tata take another step toward them. Then Aouicha's gaze dropped to Tata's feet below. What she saw sent a shock through her lower body, paralyzing it for a moment. A warm fluid she hadn't even felt trickled down, running along her thighs. All she could move was her head, and with her eyes she did what her mouth could not — she tried to scream a warning to Boutroud, but her voice betrayed her; nothing left her lips but a terrified stare, helpless to do anything but watch him.
In that same instant, faster than either of them could react, Tata lunged toward them — before Boutroud could even cry out. He fell, and his consciousness fell with him, into what seemed an eternal dark.
And before she awoke from her fainting spell and that night's dream, the last thing she saw was Tata's feet... cloven, like a goat's.
It wasn't just a dream to pass and be forgotten with time — it had come to Aouicha specifically, out of everyone. And so, the decisions she would make afterward would affect not only the fate of the village of Ain El Louh, but the lives of many people not yet even born.