by Sarah Begg
Its eyes opened and for the first time
it Saw. Trees flew by far beneath as it soared, wind-bound, racing
across the land in the air currents. The feeling was exhilarating,
terrifying.
Muscles rippled as it beat its strong
wings and higher it flew. Its eyes scanned the land below, seeking
movement. There! Something darted in the fields. It gathered its
wings in, and began to plummet – but then a strange force compelled
its wings to open, its eyes to move away from its prey, forced it up
again into the air.
The great bird shrieked its annoyance
and, bunching its muscles, gave an almighty shake of its head,
expelling the force that was exerting a different will over the bird.
The youth sprawled backwards on the
ground as if he had been forcefully pushed, his head splitting with
an almighty headache.
“Jaquin!” the old man hobbled
forwards quickly and bent over the boy.
The boy's vision swum with
disorientation for a moment as he stared up at the close canvas
ceiling of the tent, the air strong with incense. The old Shaman bent
across his vision, the bright blue tattoos on his cheeks and forehead
shining in the light of the braziers.
“Did you make contact?” the
Shaman's eyes shone with excitement as he gazed down at his protege.
“Yes Master,” Jaquin managed to
say, finding his tongue as he regained his senses as a human again.
“I was one with the eagle.”
“And how was it? What happened?”
the Shaman leaned forward eagerly.
“It was... strange. Different. It was
only momentary. When I tried to control the bird it shook me off
almost straight away.”
The Shaman gasped. “You were able to
control it on your first encounter? That is extraordinary!”
The Shaman clambered awkwardly to his
feet and began pacing around the room, his excitement overcoming the
arthritis that usually crippled him from moving too much.
“Do you know what this means boy?”
Jaquin sat up, the pain in his head
beginning to subside. He looked up expectantly at his master, waiting
for the answer.
The Shaman stopped pacing and came to
stand proudly in front of Jaquin.
“It means, boy, that you have mastered the last trial of your apprenticeship. The time has come for you to step forwards and become Shaman.”
“It means, boy, that you have mastered the last trial of your apprenticeship. The time has come for you to step forwards and become Shaman.”
The ceremony took place at the half
moon. Jaquin spent the entire day fasting and meditating at the top
of Eagle rock, close to his clan's home. As the sun began its
descent, Jaquin rose and walked proudly back into the village. The
old Shaman, his former master, was waiting for him and together they
walked to the river for the ritual bathing. When they returned to the
village, now dressed in the ceremonial whites, it was to find every
one of the clan turned out to welcome him with respect – he, the
boy who no one had paid attention to would now be one of the most
highly esteemed members of the clan.
Most of the ritual was new to Jaquin,
having never seen a new Shaman initiated before. The old Shaman and
the clan Chief led the ceremony and Jaquin was surprised to see the
prettiest of the village girls now batting their eyelids at him
flirtatiously or simply staring at him in admiration. He felt his
chest swell with pride.
When the ceremony was over the girls
came forward and offered Jaquin sweet wine and fruits to break his
fast, smiling shyly at him all the while. Jaquin smiled back, feeling
his blood begin to pulse with a strange new feeling.
The feast began soon afterward with
Jaquin taking pride of place at the Chief's right hand side. There
was mountains of food and the children performed a dance to entertain
the adults.
Towards the end of the night, when
Jaquin's head was especially swimming with sweet wine, the Chief
leaned over and engaged him in conversation.
“I hear you have become one with the
great eagle that flies the plain, Jaquin,” the Chief said.
“Yes, Chief,” Jaquin nodded
respectfully. “I flew with the great bird and saw as he saw.”
“That is very good,” the Chief
replied. “Because now we have need of your skills. The Tahina clan
over the western hills have been silent for too long. I fear they
have cut off communication with us because they want to attack and
steal our lands, which are far superior to theirs.”
Jaquin remained silent, though he felt
a knot of dread clench his stomach.
“I need you to fly as the eagle flies
and bring us knowledge of what the Tahina clan does,” the Chief
continued. “Can you do that?”
The dread in Jaquin's stomach turned to
fear. He had only flown momentarily with the eagle, and something
like this was difficult and dangerous. He glanced quickly at the old
Shaman sitting nearby, who he knew would have been listening. His
former master was scowling, concern and anger etched on his face at
this dangerous request from the Chief. Yet now that Jaquin was
himself Shaman, it was not the place for the elder Shaman to
interfere in Jaquin's decisions.
Jaquin knew it would be unwise for him
to attempt what the Chief was asking, and he was about to say so when
he caught the gaze of the Chief's daughter sitting close by. The
young woman was gazing at him with a look of admiration and awe, also
waiting for his answer. Without another thought, Jaquin's mind was
made up.
“Yes Chief,” he said drawing
himself up proudly in his chair. “I can do this for you.”
The next morning Jaquin sat in the
Shaman's closed tent, the incense curling about his senses. His old
master had refused to attend, adamant Jaquin was making a mistake and
attempting too much too soon. But Jaquin was confident – he could
do this. This time he would not force the bird to do things, he would
only give it subtle suggestions so that he would not be thrown.
It took a few hours of meditation
before he managed to enter the trance, but then the connection was
almost instant.
The ground dropped away far beneath as
it soared over the land. The strong muscles held the wings
outstretched allowing it to simply glide, suspended in the air. A
feeling emerged – there was something slow and easy to catch
waiting for it beyond the hills over there.
Changing directions, it flew towards
the hills, feeling with its wings the signs of the air currents that
could take it up and over the land with ease.
As it glided over the trees there was a
sense of danger ahead – this was a bad direction. But then no, this
was a good direction – there was prey over here that was easy and
filling. It continued to fly over the hills.
It sailed over the land and again the
danger was sensed, more strongly. It tried to bank and turn, tried to
head back, but the other will was holding it steady, forcing it to
keep its course. Screaming, the eagle twisted in the air, fear and
confusion twisting its mind.
And then the arrow struck, piercing the
bird through the neck. Its wings flapped uselessly, horribly twisting
as the bird began to plummet. The air rushed past, its body went limp
and a second later it struck the land.
Jaquin's eyes sprung open – he was on
his back, all the air knocked out of his lungs, staring again at the
smokey canvas above. And now there was a horrible, hollow feeling in
his chest, as if he had been beaten profusely and then had his heart
scooped out.
He hadn't been able to free himself
from the bird in time. He knew, instinctively, that his power, his
Shaman ability, had died along with the bird.
Horrified, a tear rolled down his
cheek.
Moments later his old master entered
the tent and peered down at him, knowing.
“Jaquin,” the disappointment and
sadness in his voice could not be masked. “Your pride has failed
you. You have tried too much too quickly.”
The Shaman limped slowly out of the
tent again, his back bent with grief. At the entrance he stopped and
turned back, his voice cracking with sorrow as he spoke again.
“You are Shaman no more.”
The incense rippled slightly in the air
as the tent flap fell into place and the old Shaman was gone.
For a long time Jaquin lay in the
smokey tent, crying and grieving at his own stupidity, at the power
and esteem he had held so briefly and lost so quickly.
When he finally rose, determination had
filled the hollow in his chest.
This was not the end. He would not give
up. His Shaman ability may have died for now but he would resurrect
it and return stronger than before.
He would be Shaman again.
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