by Aderyn Wood
“Anton!” Yuli shouted again as he entered the tent.
Inside his mother was putting down reed mats. The daylight from the smoke hole at the top of the tent filtered through, but Yuli still blinked, trying to adjust his eyes.
“I’ve sent your brother to fill our water jugs. A job you should have done by rights.” His mother gave him a frown. “He won’t be happy with you.”
Yuli shrugged. He shouldn’t have to do all the jobs. Just because Anton now joined the men on their hunt and was betrothed, he thought he was better. Well, Yuli would be Soragan one day. Then no one could boss him around and other people would have to fetch water for him.
Just then Anton walked in carrying two clay jugs; water dripped onto the mat.
“Try not to spill it, son. I’ve just put these reeds down.”
“Yes, Mother.” Anton placed the jugs at the back of the tent next to the clay cups, bowls and oil pots.
“Anton!” Yuli still shouted a little. “Some of the others have started a game of Lion and Wolf down by the river. Let’s go and join them.”
Anton smiled briefly before frowning. “I am ten summers old now, Yuli, almost a man. I have no interest in these childish games.”
“But you love Lion and Wolf. It’s your favorite game, and you’re good at it. You’d be sure to win.”
“There is no shame in playing with the others, son,” their mother spoke. “Your father used to love that game too when he was your age. I remember playing with him when we were at Agria. We had been betrothed, he and I, just as you are betrothed to Hennita.”
Anton scratched his head, still frowning.
“I think Hennita is there. It will be a chance for you to spend some time with her. Come on, brother.” Yuli clapped his brother’s shoulder.
“No. Father and a group of hunters are going to survey the surrounding forest. There’s a good chance we will bring back a deer, or boar. I will go with them.” He left the tent.
“Strange,” his mother whispered.
“I know,” Yuli said. “He loves that game.”
“I’m not so concerned about his lack of interest in the game.” She looked towards the entrance, folding her arms.
“I suppose I’ll have to join in without him then,” Yuli said.
“Go on, have fun,” his mother said with a smile. “And Yuli—”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Don’t be a sore loser.”
∞
Yuli walked toward the river trying to work out what was wrong with Anton. All the children of their clan had played a game of Lion and Wolf not long before they had left for Agria. That was not even a turn of the moon ago. It was all right for Anton to play then; why not now? Oh, well, he’d play without his brother. He’d already made some new friends. Smiling, he picked up his pace.
“Yuli.”
Yuli stopped, recognizing the voice of Soragan Izhur. He pretended he couldn’t hear. Izhur would want to give him a boring job – or worse – make him sit through another boring lesson. He started running again.
“Yuli, I know you can hear me. Come here, please.”
Yuli stopped and, with shoulders slouched, walked to Izhur who stood outside the large tent the Soragans shared during Agria. It was coloured with various decorations. Each clan had designed a section of the tent over the years. It was painted with images that represented all eight tribes –Wolf, Bear, Lion, Eagle, Snake, Ox, Otter and Deer. After every Agria, each clan would take custody of their section of the Soragan’s tent, protecting it until the next Agria. Then, when all the clans met again, they would put their sections together to make one very large tent – large enough to house each Soragan.
It stood in the centre of the camp. Yuli had watched the tent being erected the day before. It had taken the strength of grown men, all hunters, to raise it on a tall pole and hitch the eight leather sections together. The huge shelter could be seen from any point in the large encampment.
Yuli walked toward it, wishing he had gone around rather than cutting through the middle of the campground.
“Yes, Izhur.” He kicked a lump of dirt.
“What were you in such a hurry for, Yuli?”
Yuli kept his gaze on the ground. “I want to play with the other children.”
“Have I taught you nothing? Are you so spoiled not to look at your Soragan when he talks to you?”
He looked up, forcing his eyes to meet Izhur’s. “I am sorry, Soragan.”
“That’s better.” Izhur’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I want you to run and find Iluna. It has been many days since our last lesson. Just because we are at Agria doesn’t mean we can be lax with our studies.”
Yuli pouted. He could feel his bottom lip poke out like a fat slug. Izhur didn’t like it when he pouted. But Yuli couldn’t help it. Why should he have to fetch Iluna? She should be the one to run after him.
“What is it now?” Izhur asked, quietly.
“Why can’t I have some fun with the other children? And why do I have to fetch Iluna? Why does she have to do lessons with me at all? I’m going to be the next Soragan. We’re to have the promising ceremony tomorrow.”
Izhur sighed, but when he spoke his voice was friendly and kind. “Yuli, let me tell you why we must include Iluna in our lessons.” Izhur walked to a nearby cherry tree and sat beneath its shade. He patted the ground next to him. “Come sit with me for a moment.”
Yuli’s pout disappeared. This was unexpected. No lecture?
He skipped over and sat.
“You know Iluna has the gift, don’t you?” Izhur asked.
Yuli nodded. Everyone knew that.
“If such clan members – and they are clan members no matter what rank they have, mark my word, Yuli.” Izhur’s face looked very serious. “If such members as Iluna are not taught how to manage their gift, they create a risk to the entire clan. The Malfir may find them and corrupt them, using their powers for evil. Or, they may even learn skills by themselves and leave the clan to wield undisciplined power as isolated nomads. Either scenario is dangerous for a clan. This is why we must include Iluna. And why you must understand, as our next Soragan, your responsibility in training such members if this happens in the future.
“The likelihood of having three gift-born in a clan again is very low. But you must keep this in mind, Yuli. Consider this an important lesson in a Soragan’s responsibility.”
Yuli nodded. He understood, but he still didn’t like having to fetch her. He stood, nonetheless, and brushed off his short tunic. “I’ll get her now.”
∞
Her shelter was at the very edge of the wolf clan’s camp, as it should be for the lowest member of the clan. The old woman sat by her breakfast fire, in front of their lean-to. The hide was very plain compared to the large elaborate white tent owned by his family. If they got heavy rain it would be difficult for the two of them to remain dry. That was also fitting.
Yuli stuck his nose up in the air and asked the old woman where Iluna was.
She pointed. “Our little bird has found a friend.”
Yuli walked behind the lean-to. A heavy vine had grown over itself as well as a long dead tree, but he heard Iluna talking; asking strange questions.
“Do you prefer moonberries? I can bring some for you next time,” she was saying.
Yuli rounded the vine slowly, wondering who she was talking to. It couldn’t be anyone important; he didn’t like the thought of Iluna making a friend.
“I know just where to find them, too, up there in the mountain forest. You don’t have to climb too far before you come across them. The biggest patch of moonberries I have ever seen. I brought some back for Aunty for our breakfast, but we ate them all.” She laughed.
Yuli stepped closer.
“They’re so delicious.”
With another step he could see her, but no one else. Who was she talking to? He took a step and the sharp snap of a stick sounded.
Iluna turned her head and locked dark ey
es with him. Yuli was just about to ask the question on his mind when a large bird, like a crow, squawked and flew off over his head. He ducked, covering his head with his arms. The flapping sound gradually disappeared, but Yuli stayed down; he didn’t like birds. When he was small the birds used to dive and peck at his hair. He would cry and Anton would laugh at him.
“What do you want?”
He looked up. Iluna stared at him, a scowl on her face.
“Who were you talking to?”
She didn’t answer, but her eyes flicked to where the bird had perched on the highest branch of the dead tree-vine.
“You were talking to that crow?”
“It’s a raven.”
“Raven?” Yuli had heard of ravens, in the stories about witches. They were evil birds and their powers were used by evil witches to hunt little boys down and eat them. He’d heard the stories around the evenfire when his mother thought he’d been asleep in her arms.
He slowly raised his finger, pointing to the branch. “You were talking to a raven? They are evil.” He screwed up his face. “I knew you were a witch. I’m telling Izhur.” He turned to march away but almost ran into the tallest woman he’d ever seen. He had to bend his neck back to look up at her. She had short hair. He’d never seen a woman with short hair before. All the women in his tribe had long dark hair, or grey. This woman had light hair, almost the colour of straw, but it was grey too. She was very old. Wrinkles lined her face like the crinkles in autumn leaves.
“You’re quite mistaken, boy,” she said.
Yuli gulped.
Her eyes were a sharp blue, speckled with ice, and they didn’t shift from Yuli’s. Something about her frightened him.
“Excuse me, Aunty.” He circled her, stepping backward, trying to tear his gaze away. “I have to go.” He turned to sprint away but ran into someone else – a monster with an oversized head and all the features of a person somehow strangely twisted and wrong. The monster had bulging eyes of different colours and a mouth that drooled thick saliva. One foot was not a foot at all, rather a club that made the cretin sway like a moon monster and lurch in front of him. Yuli felt his stomach drop.
“Boy,” the monster groaned, repeating the woman’s last word. Yuli yelped and ran.
∞
The evenfire was the biggest Yuli had ever seen. Its flames reached higher than a young tree. His eyes followed the path of the red glowing sparks that floated ever upwards. A handful of stars peeked through the blanket of sky, but they would remain dulled over the next eightnight – or so he had been told. Yuli looked to the west. The daysun had just gone down leaving remnants of pink and purple splashed across the horizon. Above, the nightsun shimmered, and toward the east the full moon reflected the daysun’s setting glow, shining red in the purple sky. He shifted his gaze to the eastern horizon. When Atoll’s Star showed its familiar blue face, Agria would begin.
All the clans had converged for the ceremony. The eight Soragans stood in a perfect circle around the evenfire while the few novices tended the flames, adding more light to the evening. Then, with a wave from the Grand Soragan , the novices sat on the ground behind their masters. There was a murmuring of excitement as he turned to the milling crowd.
“All, be seated now,” the Grand Soragan said, limping forward.
And all eight clans sat with a hush.
Drum beats started a slow rhythm; a singular thrum that echoed in the evening air, followed by another. Cal, the Lion novice kept the tempo on the ceremonial drum, a great instrument larger than any man and very old. It had been used to mark the start of every Agria for more summers than anyone knew. Yuli wondered if it was the drum that had started the very first.
The Grand Soragan began the chant. “Ona, Great Mother, open your protective shield to us.” He was very old. His face was lined with deep crevices and his shoulders bent forward. He leaned heavily on a twisted staff. Yuli’s mother had told him that the old Soragan could turn the staff into a slithering snake with a click of his fingers, but Yuli thought that must have been a story. Like the evenfire tales, not everything the elders told him was true. One thing was true though, the Grand Soragan was quick-witted despite his age. Everyone said so.
One by one the other Soragans joined in the chant, from oldest through to youngest. The old woman went second, her ice eyes clearly visible in the night’s light. Yuli hadn’t known any female Soragans until he’d run into her. Now he had to resist shivering every time he looked at her. And that monster who followed her around everywhere – the man who hadn’t been exposed as he should have as a babe. Yuli would never allow that when he became Soragan. Abnormal babies would be given back, as was the natural way.
The eight Soragans were in full chant now. There was another female amongst the men, Jana, from the Deer. The women’s voices added a strange harmony to the men’s timbre and Yuli shivered again.
“Close the paths to the Malfir, and let us walk free in day and night. Let the light given by Goda, Imbrit and Atoll protect us. Bless us with holy spirits and ancestors past so that we may accept the wisdom of what has gone before and what is yet to come in the circle of time.”
A cool breeze flowed and the Soragans’ tent seemed to shimmer beyond the evenfire, its stones and gems glimmering. Then everyone looked to the east and there it was. The rise of Atoll’s star was slow, as always, but the line of blue fiery light shone strong and true as it crested the horizon, slowly becoming larger, casting its azure radiance on the faces of the clan. There was a happy murmuring from the vast crowd until Cal stopped drumming and silence descended.
Xaroth’s voice rose loud and clear. “Ona, with this Agria it is time to reward your Soragans, protectors of your people.”
The Soragans stood and walked into their tent as Cal started the drum beat again. This was the most secretive, and Izhur told him, most important part of the celebration in which each Soragan would receive more strings of beads. Yuli hadn’t learnt much about the beads yet, but he knew he was to receive the mark of the novice – a string of wooden beads that symbolised the power of trees. He couldn’t wait; it would show the clan he was important.
During the Soragans’ absence the novices started the chant of light known by all of Ona’s people and the entire host took up the song that would give the Soragans energy and protection. The voices of more than ten one hundred people became one large beast, enough to frighten any dark lingering evil.
After the song the Soragans returned and the people cheered them, welcoming them back. Izhur now wore two more strings of beads and more colours reflected in the firelight as he strode back to his position in front of the evenfire.
Cal stopped the drumming and the Grand Soragan spoke to the crowd once more. “Ona, welcome into your light your new young apostles who will promise to accept the wisdom and guidance of your sacred name.”
This was Yuli’s cue. He pulled his ceremonial robe close, admiring the way the pale leather glowed in the evening light. He held his head high and walked toward the blaze. There were two others becoming novices tonight – Jethro and Kiar – and they also approached.
The fire was as hot as the burning heat of the midday summer daysun. Yuli turned to face the seated crowd. Izhur walked toward him carrying a bowl and a string of wooden beads.
“Novices —” the Grand Soragan’s voice seemed to effortlessly reach every ear, “your sacred vow – to serve, to guide, to protect your clan will now be given. You will promise to follow the guidance of your master Soragans and learn, serve and protect. Do you swear to undertake this?”
“We humbly ask the great Mother Ona to take us into her service. We promise to learn and to protect.” Yuli said the words Izhur had taught him, his voice matching that of the other two novices.
“Then accept the Mother’s gifts.”
Izhur stepped forward. First he extended the bowl.
“Drink so that the essence of your totem may give you power to defend your clan against the constant threat of malfir.
”
Yuli took the cup. It was the blood of his totem, the wolf; a lucky totem matching that of his clan. Only two people knew Yuli’s totem – Izhur and his father. But it was Izhur’s role to know the totems of all of his clan. Every father knew the totems of their sons, and every mother her daughters’. Unless you were tamatu; no one held the knowledge of a tamatu’s totem.
Zodor had hunted the wolf himself. Izhur had mixed a substance with the blood to keep it fresh, but it did not ease the copper taste. The heat of the evening and the fire had warmed the viscous fluid and Yuli concentrated hard to get it down without bringing it back up, for that would be ill-omened; a sign that the totem had been rejected, and Yuli would have to walk away in disgrace. He had to drink it all, too. He took his last mouthful and licked his lips. The salty warmth stuck to his teeth.
Izhur turned the bowl upside down to show his fellow Soragans that Yuli had drunk all the blood, and that the totem had accepted Yuli.
“Now bend your heads, as you always will to our blessed Mother and accept the gift of one of her greatest treasures – the trees.”
Yuli followed the Grand Soragan’s instructions and stared at the ground as Izhur placed the wooden beads around his neck. This would be his first string of beads. They felt light on his chest. He glanced at Izhur’s when he looked back up. Amongst the amber, azurite and jade he saw the light coloured wood. The beads Izhur would have received when he was noviced.
“It is done.”
And the drum sounded eight times, to represent the eight years between each Agria, the eight nights of the festival, the eight spirits of Ona – sky, mountain, river, plains, oceans, forest, valley, lakes.
