If you were to seek me out, I would evade you. If you were to pray for my appearance, I would not come. If you thought I were some sacred chief? Impossible. An Assapiscan hammering and labouring his way through the mountains to make his living? Absurd! Let me assure you, I am not the kind of person you will expect to find before you as a spirit of the land. But I am here, a single individual for certain, living off of the land woven and left here by the Manitou. If you chose not to believe me—I won't object, for you will not know who it is you will confront. However, as I write these entries, I am on the lookout from the very highest peak of the Shield Rock. The winds grow fierce in the skies. Yes, the stars must endure a terrible hardship mustn't they? An endless tempest that smothers the great flames of the celestial plain. The curse of service. The stars get old as men do, and someday they must be blown out. Like men, the stars are born fragile and must strengthen themselves before they can ever hope to create a life for themselves. That life will not come instantly, but a sizeable portion of that experience must come quickly—like a sudden realization! A vision! Every man must have their sudden vision. "Pawakan" is what the men here call their sudden visions.
Let it be known that it is the twenty-five thousandth year of the whales, the turtles, and the pelican. Whereupon being granted chieftaincy over the land by the Manitou, themselves went on their own spiritual quests to understand their place in the world: that they were to be the nurses of man, the family and protectors of young mankind. In this year the Chieftain's son—made now a respected warrior by the grace of the Great Mother—has been set to go out on his Pawakan. It his he who I am observing here upon the Shield Rock. In his great home, he spends his time mastering the way of life. He is an ambitious boy, I am certain now that he wishes to be made Chieftain when his father inevitably leaves the position. He is skilled in the art of the rifle and the dagger, intelligent with respect to the nature which binds him nonetheless. Yet this young man is lost. He is the maximum that a Chieftain's son can be, yet he has been deceived by the luxury of it all. He understands every aspect of the land without having seen it himself. He knows the routes and the ravines by heart, yet has never left his hometown of Menykawn.
I will see to it that you are supported, Pactaw. I will see to it that your quest is wholesome and insightful. I will see to it that though you will be drowned in the horrific and beautiful visions of the world, you will emerge unchallenged and endlessly powerful.
— • —
THE RESIDENCE OF CHIEFTAIN NICAMON PASCAW
"Must I ask you again, Kiscawak?" The Chieftain asked.
"Yes you will. And again and again and again until I'm done my work here."
"Kiscawak, you are a visionary, tomorrow you will be off on a supremely tiresome journey. If you do not come eat your bison now, you will go hungry for days."
"Then I'm at an advantage father, because the later I eat, the more time I will be able to go without..."
The Chieftain suddenly rose from his great chair. The focused ambience of the room fell through the floor, and the lights seemed to weaken as he himself from the table. Kiscawak turned from his schoolwork quickly once he heard the squeak of the cedar chair. The Chieftain was now standing with an eyebrow raised, his palm resting upon his belt and his mouth in a low toothy smirk. Kiscawak turned back to his books and shut them quickly before proceeding to the table and bowing his head towards his father. Kiscawak was not in the mood for reprimand.
"Mihciyawêsiw, Chieftain." Kiscawak said.
"Yes, my son. You are of the most courageous men I know, but your disobedience fouls the spirit. Sit and eat with me before your mother comes home. I have much to tell you about my own Pawakan."
Kiscawak sat upon the cedar chair and observed the great steak before him on the cloth assiette. They began to eat. Kiscawak took a blade and cut a section of the bison out and placed it before him, he chewed at it harshly with his teeth. The bison was leathery and hard.
"The Pawakan is different for every young man. When I was sent out, I lived in Tawaic and faced immediately the intersection of the southern forest and the northern plains. You will have the luxury of being able to pass through Tawaic and finding food as you continue on individually. I chose the plains because my friends told me that only cowards went through the undemanding forest. The truth is this, son: both the plains and the forest are equally challenging. The riptides of the lake can wash you down rapids till you are dead from exhaustion, the hidden mountain lions and lynxes waiting for their game can rip at you until you are one with the earth. The forest is not for the unskilled. If the Manitou tells you to go through the forest, do not hesitate to do so."
"I'm ready for it." Kiscawak said.
"Ready? Ready for the journey?"
The Chieftain began to chuckle before squinting his eyes at his son, almost concerned.
"Do you honestly think anyone is ready for it?" The chieftain said.
"I think I'm ready. I know everything there is to know about the forest and also the plains! I've gone farther in school than any other student, I am the chief of my brigade, I am the son of the Chieftain. How could I not be ready?"
"Son. This will be my sole warning to you: the more arrogant you are approaching the Pawakan, the more testy Manitou shall be. I'm not suggesting that you are not equipped for it, but no man will ever be ready for what they see out on the land. Even the smartest mind cannot subvert the tricks of the land."
Kiscawak sighed, this was something he had heard every night for the past week.
"If you chose the plains like I did, then you must not for a second distract yourself from finding a bison. The bison should be your sole objective once you arrive in the plains. One bison shall be enough to sustain you for the entirety of the Pawakan. Dry the meat over a fire and make pemmican for the rest of your journey."
"Of course."
"If you chose the forest, make pemmican from the caribou. You will need to hunt several, but the caribou will be easier to trap and to kill than the bison who live in herds. Fishing for salmon is out of the question, it will only slow you down and keep you off of your guard."
"What was the longest you went without food, father?" Kiscawak asked.
The Chieftain laid back in his seat and smirked.
"Perhaps five days? Six days? It was the most harrowing thing of all—the hunger."
"The hunger..." Kiscawak repeated.
Kiscawak was ambitious, but the thought of starvation had shook him to his core. A person could be excessively skilled in cooking, tanning, and hunting but never find any game purely due to probability. The hunger...
"But it will be the most revolutionary experience of your entire life, son. The moment I realized I was destined to be Chieftain I went fast for the nearest stallion I could find and rode my way for weeks through the plain to return to Tawaic. I am sure I never even stopped to rest! I filled my cheeks with pemmican without stopping and exhausted my horse just until I saw the colourful houses of my town in the horizon. I returned to my own father and exclaimed what I had heard to him, although he was hesitant to believe what I had seen. But I was right, was I not? And the Great Mother called upon me a year later to appoint me the new Chieftain. You could not imagine how exciting that was for me."
"No. No I guess not."
"Kiscawak, I wish you good fortune out in the wild land. Though, promise me that you will not pass over the mountains."
"The mountains? Why?'
"The outlanders are curious and dangerous people. It is why—as you know—the Manitou has placed them beyond the rocks. Even if they appear peaceful and kind, you must understand that they do not see the land the way we do, and they are not the children of the turtle, nor whale, nor pelican. If there is to be a day where we meet—then so be it. But for our time we must stay put behind the shield wall. It is our only restriction, and a just one at that."
Kiscawak finished his bison and cleaned his hands on the pelt. He looked at his father and frowned.
"You know, I'll be devastated if I'm not called to be chieftain."
"You will not be devastated, son. And just know that the office of chieftain is not the only honour that this world can offer.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Manitou — "The Great Spirit", the universal spirit and the principal deity of Animism Assapiscan — "Children of beyond the mountain", the clanless descendants of Tuscawyan exiles and outlander captives Shield Rock — The mountain range immediately south of Tusacaway, bordering Mintoria Great Mother — The highest power and matriarch in the Tusacaway, equivalent to a queen Pactaw — Male Honorific Mihciyawêsiw — "I am full of guilt", an expression of sorrow Pemmican — A protein-rich mixture of animal fat, meat, and dried berries Caribou — Reindeer
They say that the land of the Tusacaway is shaped like an eye. It is not a perfectly so, but then again, is any gift from the Manitou perfect? This 'eye' is formed out of two crescents: a northern crescent, and a southern crescent, with the Sky Rock being the 'pupil' of sorts. Anyways, the northern crescent is a barren world of endless prairie with the exception of the coasts. The rivers and the rocks here are hidden below the fields of grass, wheat, the rye. Those who managed to live there sustained themselves with the mighty bison. The Masinah suggests that because the bison rebelled against the Manitou, they were chosen to live in the plains, unable to hide from mankind and other hungry beasts. In packs, they graze and stampede like the boulders that crash from the Sky-Door. Their meat is tough and fatty—good for those living off the barren steppe. They are hunted as a group. First they are startled and frightened by horseman so that they start a stampede in one direction. Not weary of where they are headed, they descend from the high cliffs and smash their heads into the death-rock below. Despite being known as the rebellious ones, they are given the respect of all the other animals and euthanized if not instantly killed. Their pelts are large and good for about three winter coats.
The southern forest is a labyrinth, a testy land where your path is determined by the rivers and not by the directions of the peaks which are kept hidden by the pines. The rivers are relentless and tough like their mother, the tempest. Among the trees live the noble caribou. When the Manitou rowed down the river during his own Pawakan, the caribou led him in the right direction. For their service, they were gifted an intelligence unchallenged by man. With their piercing eyes, they can recognize the spirit within every tree, rock, and plant, every wave of the river. To lose your acuity as a caribou is a sorrowful disease well done by malevolent forces. While man can hide among the treetops and kill the caribou speedily, their meat is soft and brittle, and will only be enough for a fortnight.
The bison is considered a beast because it is unwise, and unwise because it has rebelled against the spirit. It feeds mankind. The caribou is considered divine because it is wise, and wise because of its respect for the supremacy of the Manitou. It feeds itself. This is an example of how the Manitou organizes his children. Those who show disregard are to be banished and shown nothing but common decency. Those who are righteous are bestowed the gifts of the earth.
Allow your minds to absorb this. The Manitou's judgement reflects mankind too.
— • —
THE PAVILION OF TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND YEARS
The Pavilion of Twenty-Five Thousand Years was bursting with celebration. Among the powwow were thousands of the youth of Menykawn, the largest city in the Tusacwyan confederacy. Each child was dressed in their bright pelt-tunics and their festive feather-clips tucked into their braids. From around the pavilion, chiefs, parents, and spectators from around the entire country had assembled to see the children off on their adventures. Each clump of children along the pavilion was the site for emotional farewells and hopeful exchanges between friends, parents, and clan. Upon a high balcony overlooking the terrace, the Great Mother Kimisweyn and her two daughters sat, observing the visionaries under the protection of two armed chaperones. Her face was embellished with bright red face-paint and black markings with large streaks beneath her stern and yet thoughtful eyes which scanned the rows of children.
Suddenly, the Otenahk Chief of Menykawn produced a massive bison horn and blew deeply into it, the bellowing sound a sign for the visionaries to assemble themselves into single-file rows. Kiscawak—in the midst of his parting with his mother and father—placed a quick and firm hand on his father's shoulder.
"Father, I'll come back a wise man. I promise you."
His father nodded in approval, restricting any commentary to be mindful of his pride. If the possibility for him not to come back a wise man was a concern, then those words would only be necessary then. Kiscawak then turned to his mother, who immediately grasped onto her son's wrists.
"Clan mother, you've given me your name. A name which I will carry until the day I am dead."
"Oh, Kiscawak. You are my only child, I hope you find your Pawakan soon." She replied.
"I will, mother."
"The Manitou is observing you. He will protect you but he will also challenge you. Use your knowledge well."
"I will, mother."
Kiscawak kissed his mother's cheek and took off towards the lineup of teenagers. As he lined up, the Great Mother arose from her throne at the top of the balcony and was taken to a pedestal by the Otenagk Chief where she stood and stared down the rows of the young Tusacwyan.
"Children. You are the the fruit of this generation. While we elders sit and share our past knowledge to make sense of the world, you will now go out and obtain that knowledge. Until you are bestowed a vision by the Manitou, you shall be banished from all the towns and all the houses and shunned by anyone not a visionary. The ayêsihtinpawâkan will keep it this way, reminding those who may see it not to interfere, so that your venture is wholesome and without hindrance."
The Great Mother then paused in contemplation. With her eyes closed she lifted her face towards the afternoon sun and felt the light on her face. She suddenly stuck out her hand. The Otenahk Chief recoiled as the Spirit-Chief, Acacos Kysic, bowed his head and passed a pelt-bound book to Kimisweyn.
"Now, I shall read from the Masinah."
"Holy is he, the Manitou." The attendees all chanted in reply.
The Great mother moved her hands gracefully across the pages, in an attempt to find the text she desired.
"This is the tale of the adventure of the Manitou," She began.
The continued to read the text, now in the Elder language.
"In those days the world was freshly woven and neither the vast plain nor the deep forest was inhabited by beast or fowl. From the trunk of the Tawaic, the Manitou went on a mighty journey around the Sky-Door from whence he came as to appoint a creature to care for each land. Whilst the whale, turtle, and pelican nursed mankind upon the Shield Rock, many beings began to be formed out of their likenesses. The bison out of the image of the whale, was made to roam the plain. The caribou out of the likeness of the pelican, was made to roam the forest. The salmon out of the image of the turtle, was made to roam the rapids. Having travelled far across the land and seeing the very purpose of his creation, the Manitou was wracked with images of concerning clarity. In his revelation, he knew the potential for mankind and their utility to the land, for they had the power to work the land and keep it tidy, preserving the beauty of the world which had been hand-stitched by the Manitou. In the gaiety of his realization, the Manitou jumped to the very top of the Sky-Door and saw mankind now at their greatest potential, with the pelican, the whale, and the turtle depleted from old age. The Manitou took mankind in his arms and distributed them among the fish, among the bison, and among the caribou, whilst the three nurses of man were sent to live in the peaceful eternity of the vast Tusacaway. Holy is he, the Manitou."
The congregation nodded and murmured.
The Great Mother closed the scripture and returned it to the Spirit Chief. She closed her eyes and began to immerse her face in the light of the sun once again, a common medium of praying for strength. As she did this, several volunteers began to walk around the ranks of children with small branding irons and flaming torches. Kiscawak's throat went dry and his stomach went queasy seeing the red-hot pokers and hearing the cries of his fellow visionaries as the irons were pressed into their arms and sustained. As the branding-volunteers grew closer, Kiscawak looked to the Great Mother who had stopped basking her face the sun and was now gazing directly at him. Kiscawak was unnerved and peered back at her, unsure of why she was staring. She then signalled over one of her chaperones and whispered something briefly into her ear before returning to her original position, bathing her face in the sunlight.
The chaperone walked quickly over to Kiscawak and took his right arm, pressing her thumb into his skin.
"You are the chieftain's son?" She asked.
"Um... Yes?"
The chaperone paused and smirked.
"Anisco the Great Mother wishes you the best of luck."
As Kiscawak's focused on her message, his left arm was also taken abruptly. The volunteers quickly lifted his sleeve as the branding iron was quickly plunged onto the skin. Like the bite of the centipede of the plains, hot needles seemed to plunge into the skin and crunch down on the flesh, a metallic pinch that imbeds flaming coal into the bone. It was an unimaginable pain that sent Kiscawak into a belligerent fit of anguish. The hot sting pounded against his bone like a barrage of gunfire aimed for his arm. As the branding iron was lifted, the bouncing waves of pain began to move about his whole body, and Kiscawak found he was almost unable to breathe. as his hand shivered an inch above the black-charred letter "S" now engraved into his arm.
"Children! Now being branded, you are proper and true visionaries, embarked on a quest to find your Pawakan. The meaning of your spirit will be found in the wilderness! Go and seek it out!
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Sky-Door — A mountain in the central Tusacaway Powwow — "Celebration" Ayêsihtinpawâkan— "The mark of the pawakan", the ceremonial branding of the arm before a Pawakan journey to warn others that the bearer is on his journey Masinah — "Scripture", the compendium of stories detailing the actions and challenges of the Manitou and his creations Tusacaway — Depending on the context, the "Tusacaway" is either the ocean which surrounds the country or the country itself Ekosi — "So be it", comparable to amen
Spirit Chief — The supreme religious authority of the Tusacaway, comparable to medicine man
Anisco — Female honorific "The centipede of the plains" — The plains centipede (scolopendra famelicus) is known in the Tusacaway for its excruciating venom
The shield rock holds the secret riches of the Tusacaway. Degraded and bereaved over time, the ancestral stone washed into sediment and exposed the ore from within and out. On the twenty-three thousandth year following creation (or about one-hundred years before he who the outlanders call the "Messiah" came about) these riches had finally been brought to every village and every home in the region. Swords to fight, chalices to drink, tools to build. The iron age came late to the Tusacwyan, but its implications were immense. Every person had believed they were the first to encounter the brilliant discovery. Namely, in those days so very long ago, I very well remember seeing the first sword-fight happen between a Mistamek man and an Apithana man. Swords were often impure and wore quickly. Craftsmanship had yet to be refined, so swords often appeared dull and imprecise. When the bison had all left the hunting plains of the Apithana, they came into contact with the enemy Mistameka on their hunting grounds upon which they had trespassed. The Apithana chieftain revealed his dagger believing it to be foreign to the Mistameka. To their surprise, the Mistamek chieftain suddenly revealed his own blade—a longsword. Yet in the end of the chaotic duel it ended up being the Apithana chieftain who won, overcoming the Mistamek and killing him. In his victory, he pranced joyously alongside his hunting group before immediately dying from a javelin to the face, launched by the enemy chieftain's son who had accompanied him to the plains.
Arrogance is the failure to hold insight. It is the failure to think consciously and to refrain from making proper assumptions. It is equally the failure to distinguish luck from success and success from security. I can assure you that the Apithana never went back to Mistamek hunting grounds after what had happened that day. And I can assure you equally that longswords did not become popular among the Mistameka. The just vengeance of the spirit can render men inconsolable from shame or otherwise, dead.
Kiscawak, I can intercede in your death, but never with your courage. Fear not of nature, but of yourself.
— • —
THE TOWN OF TAWAIC
Having travelled on foot for the entire day among other the visionaries, Kiscawak had finally reached the limits of the town of Tawaic. Being the son of the Chieftain and well-recognized among some, he believed the shunning would be rather shocking to him. And it was a shocking feature of the quest. Even if it were the Great Mother herself on Pawakan, it would be inappropriate to interfere with her journey and so she would go on ignored. Having now arrived in Tawaic, the only purpose herein would be to find a place to sleep. Owing to the nature of their journey, they would not be allowed into any homes or pot-houses and instead would be forced to settle in the parks, upon the docks, or in the streets. However, Kiscawak was not so certain he wished to do so. He had an additional agenda.
"Honestly, I think it's a mistake to go into the boreal early, Nistis." One of Kiscawak's compatriots said.
"I've been walking all day and I don't feel an iota of fatigue. Even so, it would be better to wander into the forest early to hunt rather than to wake up next morning wracked with hunger pains and prostrate like a fool on the city-streets." Kiscawak replied.
"You could be wrong. And listen, I'm sure people in Tawaic see these visionaries come and go all the time. I'm not sure why you'd feel we'd look like fools. We're on a quest after all."
"You know, Maicwynn told me that some of the people who go on Pawakan just find a colleague in Tawaic and stay with them secretly for a month before returning home." Kiscawak said.
"You're not trying to be a coward, are you, Nistis?"
"Never! That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent here!"
"So then you're either afraid of your own self-restraint or you've let the pride go to your head."
"Or rather I have the bollocks to do this right," He shot back. "Nakacikêniya."
Kiscawak then turned right in front of the boy, jolting him off to the left and moving to the other side of the row of visionaries travelling into the town. As Kiscawak expected, the people of the town acted as though the group of children did not exist. Their eyes were acute in their ignorance, as habitants moved down the busy streets, they simply moved out of the way without any regard for their presence. They were the worms along the forest-floor, left unseen by the more magnificent fauna that lived atop them. The group simply stood together at the entrance of the town, looking and shrugging indecisively at each-other with no sense of what to do. A few dedicated visionaries had proceeded into the town fearlessly. Aside from them, everyone else rather formed a small circle on the terrain outside of the town, eager to start a fire and rest without interfering with the townspeople. Kiscawak remained though as his group began to step off of the road. Though the boy he had reproached turned to him before continuing along.
Kiscawak had expected a contemptuous rebuttal from the boy, but instead he had seemingly suggested something else. It was an off-putting transition in sentiment, especially since the boy was seemingly lamenting Kiscawak. He didn't know how to respond to such an unexpected comment, such a precise and complex affirmation. He considered perhaps that he was overthinking it and decided just to shrug before him without any real reply. The boy turned his head and shook it piteously before returning to the group. Kiscawak began to make his way immediately down the ditch of the road and along the frontier-pines.
Tawaic was a significant place in the Confederacy because it acted as its capital. Being the place in which the Manitou was said to have woven the first knot of his quilt, the town was also plurinational, hosting Mistameka, Apithana, Ayaskapiew, Akimasca, and Miapiskiew—the five pre-confederal peoples of the Tusacaway. Another importance feature was that it was situated along a river which divided the plain from the boreal forest. To the southeast of Tawaic, there was null but a dark, vast expanse of pines that blocked the terrain from the sunshine. To the Northwest you can see the Sky-Door and the expanse of plain before it, a hot floor of yellow rye with everywhere to run and yet nowhere to hide. Kiscawak had chosen during his walk to Tawaic to enter through the forest because it seemed it was what his father had done. Other than through what was implied in his stories, Kiscawak had essentially known nothing about his father's Pawakan. Yet judging on their last discussion, it seemed like his father had indeed gone through the forest after departing from Tawaic. Despite his father's word, he also believed—though did not admit it—that survival in the forest seemed easier.
His initial venture into the forest seemed almost peaceful. After having walked a steady half-hour through the forest, Kiscawak began to unravel his anxieties in thought. The rows of trees seemed to stretch on forever, an endless maze that bored him into an exploration of his subconscious. No longer watching his strides, he swam through waves of thoughts. I wonder what it will be like seeing the spirits—I wonder what the Shield Rock looks like from above—I hope I am on the right path. Additionally, thoughts about his domestic life had brought his head to the ground, unaware of his surroundings. I should've brought my math textbook to practice—Oh, I never said goodbye to Makiminco—I wonder if I will have a sibling when I return home. As he continued to stride forwards, inattentive of direction, Kiscawak suddenly bludgeoned his face and fell dramatically into pines and twigs piled upon the dirt. Kiscawak immediately put a hand to his stinging forehead and felt the blood trickling down to his nose.
"Atimocisk!" He yelled, wiping his bloodied hand upon his tunic.
As he raised himself from the ground, he stared at what he had collided with. It was a tree trunk protruding from a large rock-formation on a tall ledge at overlooked the rest of the forest. Roots, twigs, and branches had reached down below the cliff and covered the rock formation in an arboreal-roof a sorts, a cave. From above, the sun's rays poured in, filling the small clearing with warm light.
"Shelter!" Kiscawak whispered with a smile, "I've found a place to settle. All I need to do now is find something to hunt."
Kiscawak walked carefully along the exterior wall of the cave and peered into the dark abyss within. It was an eternal night within the cave, a place hosting the fiercest of creatures: those which did not rely on the sunshine. Kiscawak listened along the opening of the cave for animal snoring or for movement. Mountain lions and lynxes slept in caves and were fierce animals to deal with, but luckily he kept a dagger with him on his journey. There was nothing after all, that could overcome mankind's most trusted weapon. Kiscawak eventually noticed a silent rustling within the cave. The response jarred him quite a bit and he quickly dashed towards the exterior wall. It was then devised a plan to lure the animal out of its home.
At the top of the cave-entrance, Kiscawak laid himself over the ledge silently with his dagger outstretched in his hand. Now in a suitable position to inflict physical damage onto any confused animal, he whistled out the call of the young faun, directly over the cave. The faun's cry was a helpless whine that would certainly alert any predator inside the cave to come and take the easy prey. Watching gently for the animal's exit, Kiscawak listened closely to the pitter-patter of footsteps within the cavern. Suddenly, the fierce creature revealed itself from the abyss.
A... A little cub!
A small bear cub had appeared from out of the cave in curiosity. It was quite large for a cub his age, but it was immature nonetheless. Kiscawak had no use slaughtering the young bear, knowing it had an important life ahead of it as he did. Kiscawak retracted himself from above the entrance and put his dagger away in his pouch. As he reclined against the top of the rock-formation in relief of his discovery, he turned his head to find a new problem.
Freshly incarnated from the ledge above was a matron of the night, a queen among the forests which went unparalleled to the lynx and the lion. With its red eyes and dark coat, it blended in with the black shade that the pines cast upon the forest floor. Kiscawak's father had once said, To say we are the masters of the land is a fool's presumption. He who meets the cave bear will know just who was chosen to dominate the world. As Kiscawak locked eyes with the beast, the cave bear suddenly dropped the unrecognizable game from its mouth and set its ruby-eyes upon the larger, fresher game that had come upon her den. Additionally, she saw her cub without the cave, and recognized this potential murderer stalking her only child. The dark matron was not willing to stand idly by as Kiscawak shuffled down the ledge, she made the first move.
Kiscawak jumped suddenly from the cave entrance and smashed his knees onto the ground below in a frantic attempt to escape. The cave bear followed him, but hit the ground running, landing gently on her aerobic paws. Kiscawak sprinted just an arm's length away from the snapping jaws of the indomitable creature. Her eyes shined with the embers of vengeance. The bear continued after Kiscawak for what seemed like the longest sprint of his life, never unfixing her gaze from Kiscawak's flesh nor letting down her pursuit. The sprint would not go on forever though. While turning his face to see the creature's face, Kiscawak's foot became hooked upon the root of a tree.
He fell forth, and the bear stumbled over his body, rolling across the terrain and stumbling into a tree. As Kiscawak raised his already-bruised head above from the dirt, he saw the cave bear emerge from her prostration, wracked with anger over her deceit. She stood up on her bare paws, revealing her height which was that of two grown men. She lifted her claws and unveiled her deathly smile, teeth covered in blood and saliva. Kiscawak felt the numbness in his foot absorb the last of his strength. Not a day into his quest and he was already finished.
Death. I am now one with the spirit. Holy Manitou, blessed am I to have serviced your creation.
As he rose to his knees in reverence, the cave bear lunged forward and pressed its full weight into the boy's body. She attached her claws into Kiscawak's tunic, digging further thence into his chest and slicing deep into his torso. As Kiscawak began to panic, the bear sunk its ivory cutters into his shoulder, ripping at his bones as he attempted to hold back the immovable beast's muzzle with his puny arms. He screamed in unimaginable pain as the curtain of night began to descend over his eyes. A graceful departure from the world as the black bear tore at his body like a quilt.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Apithana — Along with the Mistamek and others, the pre-confederal nations within the Tusacaway Pot-House — An inn or tavern purposed for the usage of cannabis and tobacco, offering overnight accommodation Nistis — "Older Brother", An informal term of address used for new friends or acquaintances Nakacikêniya — "Leave me (behind)." Comparable to the expression "Get lost!" "Woven the first knot of his quilt" — Referential to the Animist story of creation Atimocisk! — "Dog's ass." A vulgar profanity.
I have recalled a ferocious debate among the Spirit Chief and his holy council in 24,953rd third year of creation. You may perhaps know it as the 1,953rd year of the messiah as the outlanders describe it. The tumult was the result of some stories to be considered for induction into the Masinah. These stories had very contradictory natures, and their interpretations became a massive inconnu. You see, there goes a tale that the Manitou—incarnated as man on his Pawakan—espoused a goddess known among the Tusacwyan as 'Sky-woman'. Disputably, she fell from the sky after rejection among the stars for not shining as bright as they did. Other traditions recount her as the embodiment of darkness, and the space between that which exists and that which does not. This was not the source of the debate however. The problem was the 'perfection'—so it is said—of their union. Some accounts claimed that the wictowwen was bitter, disloyal, and wrought with contempt. Others claim that the wictowwen was primordial and beautiful, that it went by without any issues. Furthermore, some accounts claimed that the Manitou and Sky-Woman's wictowwen ended in divorce, while others claimed that it continued on, presumably to this very day.
The dispute was significant enough that it wracked the day-to-day affairs of Nistokamek and sewed acrimony among those who believed one way and those who believed another. Namely, the traditions differed among those who were descendant among one the three pre-confederal nations in the Tusacaway. That notion was disastrous, and the idea of renewed tribalism or kiwymacan was a concept that shook the nation to its very core. It was not only forbidden to consider a reversal of confederation, but separatism was a breach of the religious and spiritual nature of the confederation itself. The year following the disputes, the Nistokamek became fractured into a partisanship among the previous three nations. The members of the Nistokamek were now precisely disobeying the orders of the Great Mother. Kiwymacan's adherents grew in popularity as hostilities began to grow into differing issues stemming from this small problem of the Manitou's wife. I heard one chief describe the problem like the Tusacwyan rivers, "They flow in a delta, one ravine makes way into two, two into four, and four into eight". The great and terrible
However, the very day that a reversal of confederation came up in the Nistokamek, something beyond comprehension occurred. You must understand that the Tusacwyan are a superstitious people. They perceive every deviation of normality as divine intervention, as some kind of reaction from Manitou's grace. And on that day a massive earthquake tore through the coast of the eastern Tusacaway. It was as though the Manitou himself had wrapped his hands onto his creation and shook it about with all his might. The quake set off fires, set the rivers running backwards, and caused the sky-door to erupt in a brief lava-pour. After the fires had ruined the villages and the shaking had stopped, the shores sank all the way to the deep sea. In the distance came a massive tidal wave which crashed into the towns and swept away the tsunami within Tusacwyan politics.
To even speak about separation is no longer just forbidden, it is a subject that can have you exiled. And as for the perfection of wictowwen? Frankly, the minuscule nature of the problem brought the argument to an end. All conflicting accounts of the Manitou and Sky-Woman were each considered valid and published in the Masinah.
Let not others define what love is. Let not others decide whether one has the ideal union. It is a personal subject, an intimate affair, and its bounds and definitions cannot be described by one man.
— • —
DEEP WITHIN THE BOREAL FOREST
"Wake up... Wake up...!"
Kiscawak felt himself awaken to the involuntary tugging of his arm. Someone was talking to him. As he began to feel aware of his body, a reciprocal stinging could be felt all over his body. It erupted over his shoulder, over his stomach, over his legs.
"Are you okay?" The voice continued.
Kiscawak opened his eyes and found himself face-up on the grass of the forest floor. The sky poked through the holes in the branches above. A single ray of sunshine laid warmth on his face. He tried to move his head, but could only poise it so far as to see the deep, vicious scratch-marks upon his abdomen. He waved his hand towards his shoulder and pressed his palm into the bite-marks wreaked by the cave bear. Somehow, his braids had been completely undone, and his loose lochs were tangled among the grass and the clovers as he slumbered. What was left of his shirt was now situated under his head like a pillow, allowing him to rest at the foot of a massive cedar.
"Tânisi?" Kiscawak called out.
"What on earth happened to you?
"A bear," Kiscawak replied, "A bear got me."
The voice then seemed to step into frame. From his side the voice came around—a girl—and had a good look at his face. She was strikingly beautiful, and her tunic was emblazoned with delicate and fine patterns. She had accessory feathers keeping her braids neat at the back of her head, which descended about her shoulders. Upon seeing her, Kiscawak jolted upwards along the tree.
"Wait, you're not on Pawakan, are you?" He asked anxiously.
"Nope." She replied.
"I'm not supposed to talk to you then."
"You're pale, and you look close to death. You really think I'm just going to pass you by?"
Kiscawak sighed and nodded. Kiscawak began to look around the forest. In an attempt to orient himself from memories of his previous location, he drifted his eyes along the forest floor, looking for clues. None came to mind. Though based on the trails on the dirt, it seemed like he had been dragged to the place he was in now.
"I can't believe I'm not dead. It was a cave bear too."
"A cave bear? You're right, you should be dead!" She chuckled.
"I honestly don't know. All I remember was tripping over a root while the bear chased me. She stood up, pounced on me. That's all I remember from there."
"Seriously? Who dragged you away from the bear's territory then?"
Kiscawak shrugged—although in doing so, tugged at the recovering scabs on his shoulder and caused him a great deal of pain. As he went to place his hand on his shoulder again, the girl intervened and grabbed at his palm, holding it away from the bite-marks. She placed it down to the grass.
"You won't want to hurt your shoulder again. Just wait here, I'll go fetch you some water."
As soon as she said "water", Kiscawak noticed how thirsty he was. A great migraine also began to pound at his forehead. As the girl ran off, Kiscawak contemplated who might have taken him away from the bear cave. Now completely aware of his surroundings, he managed to peer his head around the cedar behind him and noticed a ravine flowing through a clearing of trees. The sunlight shot through and illuminated the forest grass around him. Seeing that the river was flowing towards his left, it meant that wherever he was now was across the river from where he was during the attacked. That was at least a half-hour walk away from where he was before.
"Who brought me here?" He whispered to himself.
The girl returned now from within the woods. She likely had set up a teepee not too far off, though Kiscawak wondered why the girl was seemingly by her lonesome in the forest. Suddenly, she returned to him and brought a large metal canister of water with her. She laid down next to him and poured the water into a smaller metal cup. She held it up to his face.
"Drink." She said.
He accepted to water, drinking in slight gulps. His throat was quite a bit sore, probably from all the recovery his body was doing. The malaise was unavoidable. When the girl put down the canister, he began to speak again.
"What's your name?"
"Oh me? I'm Okinee."
"Okinee? That's all?" Kiscawak asked.
"Oh, you want my full name? Miskinâk Okiniyikisêpîsim."
"No no, I just meant it's quite a cute name. Very short, you know."
Okinee smiled, "What's your name?"
"My name is Kiscawak."
Okinee jolted for a moment and proceeded to looked deep into Kiscawak's face.
"Kiscawak... Oh! You're the Chieftain's son?" She asked nervously.
"Yep. That I am. Kiscawak Pascaw."
"Atimocisk! If they find out I broke the shunning with the Chieftain's son..."
"Relax, Okinee. I'm not all about that. Besides, any longer out here sleeping and I could've gotten attacked by another cave bear."
Okinee smiled in a deep sigh.
"What are you doing out here anyways?" Kiscawak asked.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll tell you that in a bit." She laughed.
"Oh, that's alright." Kiscawak conceded.
Okinee was quick to change the subject.
"So you're on your Pawakan, hmm? Where are you off to?"
"Well, the Manitou didn't come to me during the bear attack, so I guess I'll just... Continue on into the forest."
"Well you'll need some help obviously."
"Help!?" Kiscawak frowned defensively.
"I mean... You got yourself attacked to a cave bear. You obviously need some guidance before you set out again."
"I don't need help." Kiscawak chuckled.
Okinee frowned a little bit, "Really? Don't need a woman's help, right?"
"Oh come on," Kiscawak replied, "You're pulling that card?"
She smiled in righteous indignation, Okinee let go of the canister and allowed it to fall onto Kiscawak's damaged leg, causing him to yelp in pain. She got up and began to walk away.
"What are you doing?" Kiscawak shot back.
"You visionaries are always so ambitious. You want to be chief? You want to be top dog? Earn those titles with respect. You're not going to find your Pawakan until you grow up out here, so speaking on that... You can live another night out here by the cedar."
Okinee continued on towards her teepee. Kiscawak scoffed as he wrapped his hand around his stinging leg.
"Vicious." He muttered.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Nistokamek — The consensual legislative assembly of the Tusacaway Wictowwen — Marriage, although more commonly translated as "union" Tânisi — "Hello", a common greeting in Tusacaw Teepee — Sometimes known as a tipi, mobile animal-skin tents used as shelter in the wilderness Atimocisk! — "Dog's ass!", an offensive expletive similar to "Fuck!"
I am now in the place. Your sleeping mind is soft ground for all sorts of familiars. Sprites with no goal but to deceive and to frighten will enter your unconscious mind to weave dread into your living spirit. I know the stories about the manipulated souls, overcome by devils who have planted their malicious roots into their dreams. Their visions become a precipitation of their malefaction. They struggle with their thoughts—they hold a blade to their neck for a release. What occurs... Yes, it is a tale of the most dreadful kind of death. But I must also remind you that there are also the good familiars. I have come from well atop the Shield Rock. My star-nearing observatory is a place far from the spiritual chicanery in the frivolous cities and the lawless expanses of forest and prairie. My place is with a mighty fence upon which the whole world can unfold before you. I am your watchman. You may consider me hence, a good familiar. So fear not, Kiscawak! Do not fear the night! I've come to offer you help...
Young visionary, destined soul...
Let the purity of the night-air wash away the pain from your wounds. Let the warmth of the pink skies heal your wounded bones. It is said that the claws of the cave bear are wrought with the essence of strength. Within the black shell is a marrow of pure and unrefined fire. Let this fire surround and embellish your spirit with the consecration of the Manitou. I've saved you once, I'll have you healed once, but these things are not powers that I can abuse for your sake. You must learn to be your own healer, your own saviour. Those you will become once you have become enlightened.
My child...
Do you know where you are going? Do you know what your destiny is? Where will you find the Manitou and his message for you?... Yes... His guidance is never so obvious, is it? I believe I am able to help you here too... You see, for thousands of years—Kiscawak—those who have gone over the great walls of our land have been done away with, or killed. Returned exiled or disappeared unsought, those are the two fates that come when one peeks above the profane window. When one wishes to acquire a glimpse of the sun's ascension from the horizon, they are banished from sharing their sights. You must go there, Kiscawak. Go to where one can see the Manitou in exposed beams. Go to where one can find the Manitou entering the sky from his graceful slumber. There he may speak to you some more...
Are you scared, Kiscawak?
Yes, I know this... To violate a tenet who's consecrated jurisdiction has lasted more than a millenium is not a request that I expect you to execute without a mote of apprehension. It is a curse to disobey your Great Mother. But I believe it is here where you will find the inspiration you desire so heavily... On the Shield Rock... Come with me... Meet me here...
— • —
DEEP WITHIN THE BOREAL FOREST
"Hey, are you okay?" Okinee's voice rang out.
Kiscawak became suddenly aware of himself. His eyes flew open frantically as he returned from his nightmares. He observed his surroundings quickly, frightened by what he had seen in his mind during his slumber. Conscious, Kiscawak realized he was standing his two feet, his palms were wide open, spread out and forward in some kind of suppliance. The intense sweat borne of his stressful encounter covered his body, and an aching pain pounded in his head.
"Are you okay?" Okinee asked again.
"I'm... I just had a vision."
Okinee nodded. The boy closed his eyes in contemplation of what he'd seen, trying to remember what he'd heard too. In a renewed awareness, Kiscawak turned to Okinee with a frown.
"You were pretty grim yesterday" He remarked.
"Grim? You were so patronizing."
"All I said was that I didn't need your help. It was a polite thing to say, not patronizing."
"Look, I know all about politeness and I'm not going to concede to your platitudes. Admit you were belittling me!" She replied.
"Alright, sheesh. If I'd known you were so matter-of-fact I wouldn't have..."
"Wait a moment... You can walk?" Okinee asked.
Kiscawak looked away from Okinee's face and turned towards his feet. Alas—it was true, he was standing upright. He did not know how he had ended up like this—likely from sleep-walking—but more importantly, he was surprised by how much easier it was to move around compared to yesterday when he had returned from his traumatic blackout.
"Man, I've been sleeping too much," Kiscawak noted, "I feel like I've come out of hibernation..."
"Well... I hunted a caribou this morning, would you like some pemmican?"
"You hunted a caribou?"
Okinee scowled. Kiscawak replied by laughing under his breath.
"Yes. I will have some pemmican, Anisco."
"Alright, good. Let's eat."
Kiscawak took easy strides as he followed Okinee towards her teepee. There was still a degree of stiffness in his limbs, but the walking was mostly pain-free. Additionally, the wounds on his shoulder had now been enveloped in thick scabs whilst his abdomen was now healed with all but a few scars upon it. Okinee's teepee was in reality, a tall wigwam covered in several stitched pelts. The pelts were tanned to a darker brown and dressed with red paint, detailing a few patterns and concentric lines. Her fire was dull and near-sooted from last night, while a metallic pot full of the tender caribou-meat simmered atop. On the ground there was a red tapestry-rug with a metallic sheet adorned with little balls of pemmican. Some had already been eaten. The pair sat down over the rug and began to pick at the food.
"So, did you remember what your dream was about?" Okinee asked.
"I remembered seeing a man. Yeah, Some guy. He was all mystical..."
"Was it an ancestor?"
"It was... A familiar... He said that he'd been watching me from somewhere."
"Ha-ha, maybe you don't need my help after all."
Kiscawak rolled his eyes.
"Sorry," She giggled, "Continue."
"Wait... I think I remember what he said."
"What?"
"Yes, I know this... To violate a tenet who's consecrated jurisdiction..." He began to whisper.
"What? What are you saying?"
Kiscawak recalled the watchman's words and immediately took a deep breath.
"Go to where one can find the Manitou entering the sky from his graceful slumber."
"Entering the sky? Does he mean go east?" Okinee asked.
"No... Well, yes but... He said that I need to climb... The shield wall." Kiscawak admitted.
Okinee's interested smile lowered into a reluctant lour. What Kiscawak had said was nearly profane.
"I really don't think so, Kiscawak."
"That's what he said. I have to go to the Shield Rock."
Hearing those words a second time, Okinee became defensive.
"No, Kiscawak, just no! That's a really bad idea. The army patrols up there seven days a week! You'll get a bullet to the face if you're lucky! Even better if you end up exiled!"
"It's not an idea it's a directive. This isn't about a challenge, this is about something I'm supposed to see."
"No one is supposed to see that, nistis."
Kiscawak was quick to see the dilemma he was in.
"So if you're seriously one not to tell, I need to know now. I'm going to the Shield Rock, no matter what anyone says. But if you rat me out, my Pawakan... I'm not sure I'll ever get to know it."
"Tell? How could I possibly tell anyone?" Okinee laughed.
"I don't know how! You still haven't told me who you are nor why you're out here in the forest by yourself."
"Because it's none of your business!" Okinee yelled in reply.
Kiscawak stood up in a confused rage.
"Okay... What is this? What's going on here? How did I end up by this cedar, near some stubborn girl camping by herself! Why won't you tell me anything? What is happening?"
"Calm down, Kiscawak. I think you're just stressed out."
"No! I need to know! Tell me who you are, Okinee."
"Okay, fine!" Okinee yelled.
Kiscawak sheathed his enraged grimace and proceeded to sit back down onto the rug, picking at his meal.
"I'm Assapiscan." She muttered.
Kiscawak's eyes widened.
"Assapiscan? You're from the Northwest?" He asked.
"I'm from Picipowwan, the prison-town. I'm the kid of the town-chief there and my mother, whom he abandoned. I'm a mutt."
"Don't say that." Kiscawak admitted.
"I ran away a month ago, I've been trying to live on my own out here. It's been shitty and hard but I did it and I don't regret it."
Kiscawak remained silent.
"My mother's... Well... She told me that long ago an outlander from Mayistawscic came and married her great-great-great-whatever-grandmother. That's how she ended up in Picipowwan. Kiscawak, do you know what Assapiscan women do all day? I'll tell you, we sit at home, we do chores, we run short errands. At home I felt like death was always creeping about the ceiling, waiting to pounce on me. I was trapped in a house, left there to cave in on myself. I never even had the chance to work in the factories, or to help with the quotas, I was confined, chained to my 'domestic duty'. The street-fights, the poison, the beatings, the toxins in the air... You know, no matter how much fresh air I fill my lungs with out here, I can never seem to forget the stench of all that smoke."
The silence muffled the ambiance. After sharing her story, the sounds of the forest quieted and the rapids of the stream nearby went still. In response, Kiscawak slowly moved to place his hand on her shoulder—although at the last second, he decided not to.
"You don't like it when people patronize you..." Kiscawak muttered.
"I left in the night, snuck through the quarry-fields below the Twin Sister. The army patrols caught me right at the bank of the river. All I could do was jump in, and the rapids swept me away with all my equipment. I was drowned for half an hour before I washed up on the shore with my pelts and my crockery. I felt like Sky-Woman as she fell. Although this wasn't even half as graceful."
Kiscawak exhaled as he wiped his hands on the grass behind him. Okinee could barely look at him. Although Kiscawak suddenly shot a glance at her.
"I don't think you're a mutt. I think you come from a disadvantaged place."
"Okay, the-chieftain's-son."
"I'm not fucking around." Kiscawak shot back.
Okinee returned the glance. The two sat there in silence for a moment.
"I think I know what all of this means now..."
Okinee's face sank towards the grass as Kiscawak spoke.
"Can you take me to the Shield Rock, Okinee?"
Pause.
"Yes... Yes, I can take you there." She said.
"I think I was dragged here next to your camp for a reason. I think... Whoever brought me here knew that you were supposed to be a part of my quest. And this right here confirms it. You're an outlaw, and I'm an outlaw. I can't do this alone, I need to rely on someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who has experience. And I think... I only think you need some kind of pursuit."
"A pursuit... Yeah... Better paired in the deep forest than alone." Okinee remarked.
"You're right about that."
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Familiars — Some of the Manitou's many offspring that act as smaller extensions of his essence. Anisco — Female honourific, here it is used sarcastically Wigwam — A variant of a teepee that is constructed out of a loose framework of wood, covered by pelts. Assapiscan — "Children of beyond the mountain", the clanless descendants of Tuscawyan exiles and outlander captives Mayistawscic — "Land of men who wear beards", The Kingdom of Prydania
Let us apply our knowledge of mathematics to better understand the situation of the Tusacaway. At the moment, there are fourteen and a half million inhabitants of this country, spread out across two hundred and twenty thousand square kilometres of land. And would you know that makes for about sixty five persons per square kilometre! Of course, take into account many people live in close and compact towns, meaning this is never accurate outside the bounds of generalizations. But regardless, this statistic alone proves one thing: your chances of encountering a stranger deep in the wilderness are reasonably high. Now there are enough cedars and pines around to shield yourself and enough open space therein to distance yourself, but know this: There is always someone nearby. A friend? A traveller? A ghost? It could be any one individual lurking the forest. So knowing now the reality of your surroundings, it should be wise to acknowledge very well that what is done in the woods often goes undiscovered, blanketed in the mystery of nature. In solitude, the mischief of the wilderness is sheltered by the unforgiving shade of the pines.
UPON THE BLACK TAWAIC
Now in a wholesome understanding of each-other, Okinee and Kiscawak began to tread along the Black Tawaic in partnership. Based on Okinee's estimations, they were not too far away from the small town of Napacostac, a fishing village. Upon reaching the limits of the settlement, they would be able to see the peak of the Shield Rock in the distance. Throughout their discussions, it became evident that Kiscawak was heavily focused on the content of his previous dream. Despite his wit and inclination to rather be safe than sorry, he surprisingly expressed no noticeable contentions against what was asked of him. This frightened Okinee slightly, seeing how unquestionably devoted to this calling he was. Many times she considered whether Kiscawak had really seen a Manitou or if it was all some kind of false-pretence. Despite this awkward disconnection, the pair amended their bittersweet introduction and began to properly get to know one another on their way through the forest.
"I can tell you weren't too eager about going into your Pawakan." Okinee remarked as they walked.
"Ah... Nah... I just felt it was an inconvenience. Something I didn't really need to do."
"And so that's changed?" She asked.
"We've only been out here for a week," Kiscawak said, "I can say that I get the meaning of the past few days all I want, but every day after there's another new thing out here that tests me. So... I guess I'm better off just living this through while I can rather than shrugging it off like an idiot."
"Kiscawak the wise! You get mauled by a bear once and it makes all the difference."
"Like I said, every day there's another new—"
"Wait a second." Okinee halted.
Okinee then threw her arm in front of Kiscawak to prevent him from stepping further. She began to scan her eyes around the right side of the forest and the left of the river. As the twosome fell silent, something new could be heard from about their surroundings. A voice of immense richness could be heard, groaning in poetic vocalizations from an unknown place in the woods.
Okinee and Kiscawak turned to face each other as they heard the disheartened chanting. The voices seemed to approach, and the two began to hurriedly tip-toe along the grass of the riverbank as opposed to the brittle, twig-laden dirt ground that could attract attention from whoever treaded among the trees. There was always the possibility that the voices were those of other travellers or harmless visionaries, but there was only one kind of individual that entered the pair's minds, soldiers. A forcible encounter with soldiers deep in the woods was bad news for the both of them. Okinee being Asspiscan would draw a lot of suspicion, and Kiscawak bearing the mark of Pawakan would only entrench the two into an altercation if caught by a mobile regiment or members of the country's mounted rangers, the Okipah. As they moved along, the voices seemed to carry on further from them, finally starting to diverge.
"Cold summers... Don't tussle with strangers."
But the escape would not be so successful for Okinee and Kiscawak. Focused on the content of the voices, Kiscawak proceeded to slip on a wet stone that was wedged in the grass. He gasped suddenly as his foot slid, and became airborne. He crashed down along the bank into the river and splashed about the bay. The incantations from within the forest abruptly ceased. Okinee froze, as though a flashlight had illuminated her immoral actions. In shameful apprehension, Kiscawak emerged out of the river and returned to the coast, proceeding towards Okinee. There was nothing to stop their meeting with the unseen voices.
"You're a fucking idiot." Okinee hissed.
"Did they hear?" He whispered.
"Of course they did!"
All of a sudden, the timely silhouette emerged from behind a gross cedar near the fringe of the wood. It was however, an undignified and short silhouette, so it was possible that the individual wasn't a soldier. Kiscawak stopped slightly ahead of Okinee to encounter the person first. As the shadow emerged from the tree, its true likeness appeared. It was a weird, dishevelled old man. His face had greyed with age and his thin hair seemed like it had been plucked straight from his head, the long lochs of his mortal life disappearing one by one. He wore a patchwork-tunic made of extremely thin pelt, so thin it was near to rotting right off his body, evident from the numerous tears and discolourations. The man looked like a nightmarish figure, and his disjointed face certainly raised a degree of fear in Okinee and Kiscawak.
"Tânisi." Kiscawak finally spoke.
"Tânisi." The man said.
It was a quivering and destitute voice that did not match the finely aged vigour of his singing voice.
"Who are you?" Kiscawak asked.
"Who are you?" The man mimicked.
"I... I asked first." Kiscawak shuddered.
"I... I asked first."
Kiscawak turned briefly towards Okinee who now had placed her arms to her side, likely to have her hands closer to her dagger kept at the right-back side of her ceinture. Kiscawak returned his gaze over to the man who now, seemed to be five steps closer than before. His eyes were white and nearly washed out by age, blindness had been settling in over time. These facts only served to unnerve Kiscawak more, who now was also slowly reaching his hands closer to his stiletto.
"Did you hear—song?" The man asked.
"I did."
"The cold summers—real you know—real as hot winters..."
Kiscawak nodded. He could barely understand.
"You think a cold winter stupid?—you think—of course not, these are just names, little ant!"
"Mhmm."
"Words words words. We say—we do—we say—we do—andwe say we do—Weesayweedooweesayweedo!"
Okinee's eyes widened as the dishevelled elder exited a knife from one of his tunic pockets. He pointed it at Kiscawak who was now trembling in fear. He readied himself.
"How-see words lose their meaning! Weesayweedooweesayweedoo!"
The gross man then sprang from the tree like a wild lynx upon Kiscawak. It was the traumatic reenactment of his encounter with the bear. Although this time, the young visionary was prepared for the attack. With the subtle motion of his wrist, Kiscawak sliced right across the old man's neck and pushed him off in a deathly fall. The man tumbled backwards into a stone as he succumbed almost immediately to the warm stream of blood flowing through the gash in his throat. His eyes were ever full of mad craze, and in a final motion preluding his death, he held his finger out and pointed towards the branches. There were two other crazed old men hiding above! Like banshees, they shot down from the high pines onto both Okinee and Kiscawak, they embodied the whooping crane in a desperate search of fish from the stream. The sheer impact caused the pair to endure great initial injuries. Kiscawak rolled down from the impact and watched as his assailant procured a cutter, who tried to quickly stab it into his chest. Kiscawak rolled again to dodge the knife, although the attacker was quick enough to slash at him as he escaped and wounded him along his black.
Okinee kicked her assailant to the ground the moment he descended upon her, causing her herself to tumble to the ground. In anguish, she began to crawl backwards as the crazed man leaped forwards with his knife. Okinee managed to ascend to her knees, and grabbed at the man's wrists while he descended upon her the second time, preventing him from carving into her. Kiscawak was now in a deadlock with his attacker, and procured a massive kick into the man's privates. Although the man preparedly shielded himself from the kick with his thighs, bringing Kiscawak down onto him. Okinee watched in horror as her attacker—with a relentless gaze—clenched down onto her arm with his rotting teeth like several sharp daggers. The teeth cut into her flesh like a saw and caused her to shriek in fearsome pain. In a primal reaction, she quickly picked up a stone from the ground where she was kneeling in her struggle and bashed it repeatedly along the old man's head like a hammer. Even though the old man had clearly let go and died, she continued to smash the stone into the man's forehead in anger, watching it collapse inwards like a squash. Kiscawak was in a stalemate with his attacker, who had now began to whisper black oracles into his victim's ears.
"I'm nothing like the people, Nistis," He intimately chuckled, "There's hell—their hearts—it's something you can't fix."
"Let go of me you disgusting thing!"
"You speak too much, you speak too soon. You may as well not speak at all!"
Suddenly, Okinee came into view with her blood-stained stone. To the side of the man's head, she brought down the thunderous rock from the heavens. The lunatic man proceeded to fly off of Kiscawak, dropping his knife onto the dirt as he landed. Okinee went in to deliver the final blow, although Kiscawak quickly noticed that his own cutter had gone missing.
"Okinee, watch out!"
The old man flipped over like a squirming beetle and plunged Kiscawak's dagger into Okinee's leg, slicing downwards with the rest of his deathly strength. Okinee screeched and fell over, trying to tend to the massive iron blade tucked deep into her calve. Kiscawak then grabbed the old man's brittle dagger and forced it into his eyeball. The old man began to bellow and gargle, flailing about. Though Kiscawak removed the blade from the man's eye and descended it quickly into his heart, where it remained for the next few moments until the old man finally departed from the mortal world in an evil unrest.
As this occured, Okinee finally managed to remove Kiscawak's deep-plunged dagger from her leg as Kiscawak reclined against a small tree-stump rooted nearby. Kiscawak rested for a moment in silence, trying to comprehend what had just happened and recover from the shock of their killings. Okinee also laid back for a moment, trying to manage the shock caused by the gaping wound in her leg.
How see words lose their meaning! The phrase reverberated in Kiscawak's mind for the next few minutes as he reclined, unable to find peace. It was a harmful platitude that lingered in the visionary's conscious mind like an extension of the man after his death. Although after a few moments of meditation on the bloodied forest floor, silence finally filled the air.
"Are you alright?" Okinee abruptly asked.
Kiscawak opened his eyes and glanced at Okinee, who had now wrapped a section of bandage around her leg and arm. She had likely procured it from the bag of supplies she dropped, alongside the coverings for the exterior of her teepee.
"It uh... He got me in the back." Kiscawak muttered.
Okinee nodded and then proceeded to crawl over with a degree of discomfort clear in her expression. She then had him slouch over so she could tend to his wounds. Not having any feasible tunic since the bear attack wrecked it, there was no need for him to get up.
"You had it worse with the cave bear, thankfully... Yeah, I'll just cover this up with a bandage and we can be off soon."
"Are you good to walk?" Kiscawak asked.
"I am. But I don't think I can carry my share of supplies. Can you please take them?"
"Yeah," Kiscawak said, "For sure."
The pair proceeded to help one another off the ground in an attempt to flee the scene of the attack. Kiscawak fetched a fallen branch in the shape of a 'Y' from a nearby cedar and gifted it to Okinee to use as a crutch as her leg recovered. Kiscawak proceeded to collect the supplies for the teepee, and headed off.
"Wait." Okinee interjected.
Kiscawak turned around from his direction to see Okinee hovering over one of the dead bodies. Her eyes gazed upon her assailant with a dull regard of pity. She looked to Kiscawak for a moment before dragging one of the corpses by the arms over to the bank. Kiscawak squinted in disbelief, watching Okinee then pushing the body away into the current of the river. She then began to repeat the process with the other assailant. Kiscawak suddenly understood the importance of what she was doing, and followed Okinee. He took the final corpse—that which belonged to the first attacker—over to the riverbank, allowing it to slide off through the water into the rapids. The three strange wretches from within the forest were now one with nature as was prescribed, and despite their vicious and murderous attack, had been granted the base decency of being reunited with their environment. Kiscawak and Okinee stood momentarily as the bodies disappeared under the murky waters of the Black Tawaic, the hot sun from above overcasting their voyage down the river.
How-see words lose their meaning.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
The Black Tawaic — One of the main tributaries of the Tawaic river, the other being the White Tawaic Okipah — The mounted rangers of the Tusacaway, acting as both a national police force and a border-patrol agency Tânisi — "Hello", a common greeting in the Tusacaway Nistis — "Older brother", an honorific or title employed when speaking to a new friend or acquaintance
I heard someone ask a long time ago, "We have been living in the Tusacaway for so long! We know about the outer-lands, we know that they are not evil places. Our armies keep in contact with them to keep the peace. So why are we forbidden to seek out these places?"
Of course, there is no doubt that the Tusacaway is a closed country. No man, woman, or child is allowed to leave, and most importantly no man, woman, or child is allowed to enter. This is the way it has been for centuries, and from the gazes of the highly-thrusted throne of arrogance which we call the 'outlander point of view', it seems totally unreasonable. To them, this lawless country has stripped their people from freedom! They've hired those thugs—the Okipah—to keep their underdeveloped society poor and oppressed under the penalty of exile if they so dare take one step outside of the Tusacaway. But is that really how it seems to the Tusacwyan?
Think for a moment about the multiple times outsiders have made their way into the Tusacaway. If you do not remember, consider searching for your Tusacwyan cultural studies textbook. Of course, you do not have a Tusacwyan cultural studies textbook, meaning you do not know about the multiple times outsiders have made their way into the country. You additionally do not know the suffering and tragedy that those contacts have borne. Allow me hence to tell you about the tempestuous summer of 1088, when bearded-men from the land of the bearded men burnt a centuries-old town to the ground. And then about the missionaries who returned to the Tusacaway and attempted to seduce them from their native and naturalistic beliefs. And finally about the expeditionaries from the land of the gun who became an intolerable menace for the quiet towns of the southern forests. These are a people who deserve the basic privilege to be left by themselves, and as for those who wish to leave—I say do it—but never come back. Because the superstition in this land climbs higher than the mountains you must scale to reach those faraway lands. And now knowing the unfortunate history of the Tusacwyan and the outlanders, one should know better than to assume that their picture of the outer lands is a place of contemporary values and democracy.
Nevertheless, there will come a point and time when the Tusacaway parts ways with its isolation. Is this because it is a necessary step towards modernity? Absolutely not. It is a consequence of a natural culmination of events to occur, and then—and only then—will the barrier with the outer world be broken.
— • —
THE RADIO TOWER NEAR SIPYK
Having now crossed past Sipyk and near Wacwasi, the pair continued their trek along the Black Tawaic river. The seasons' change was present in the air. Frigid dew began to drip from the trees in the morning as mist seemed to waft from the semi-glacial frost that was decking the forest floor. That fact being present, Kiscawak had found the desperate need to find a tunic ever since his had been ripped apart at the hands of a beast. Okinee managed to sew up her tunic well enough after it had endured the swinging plunges of the three lunatic's cutters. In Sipyk, Kiscawak managed to confiscate some poor fool's laundry—although stealing was an undoubted crime which could have you forced to recommence your Pawakan if severe enough. This proposition was better than death however, death at the hands of the bashful sun and overwhelming cold.
Now the pair had come across something rather striking. Beyond the town of Sipyk was a massive radio mast that stretched for metres into the sky. At first impression, Okinee was unaware of what the structure was and became compelled that it was a watchtower of some sort. Kiscawak however was able to explain the nature of the structure in order to soothe her worries. And at last, the twosome were finally at peace, setting up camp quietly near the radio tower without fear of cave bears, or of the deranged, or of the Okipah. The resonant waters from the distant river provided a thoughtful ambience that accompanied the majestic night sky which was drowned in grey clouds. The few holes through these clouds became apertures into the mysterious universe. The light of the galaxy and the smoke of ancestral nebulae stared back through the gaps in the heavens. It was a bluish glow that made the immediate surroundings seem very calm.
"It's a nice night, Okinee." Kiscawak remarked.
"Yeah." She giggled.
Kiscawak's eyes were dead-set on the phenomena in the sky as he lay back on a stone, observing from the ground. Okinee was applying her survivalist faculties towards starting the fire. At the beginning of their journeys, it was a strange dynamic for Kiscawak to let a girl assume principal responsibility over the affairs of the lodging, but Kiscawak was beginning to understand now that there was no meaning in sex, no special distinction, just that the two were distinguished for the sake of love. Moreover, Okinee was now beginning to enjoy her responsibilities, finally being free from the unfortunate and ill-suited work of home economy in the Northwest. The degree of trust between the two was something they had never known before.
"You know, sometimes I feel bad for the Sky-Woman. It's so pretty up there. Such a shame she got thrown out."
"The Shield Rock is so close up. We'll be even closer to the stars soon, Kiscawak."
"Yes we will." Kiscawak smiled, staring unimpeded at the stars.
Okinee regarded the comment and looked up from her tinderbox for a moment to smile at Kiscawak, although he was too focused on the clouds. She returned to her work.
"Hey, I'm sorry I haven't been talking much about what I've been thinking." He revealed.
"Well... What are you thinking?" Okinee asked.
Kiscawak turned to look at Okinee, still reclined on the stone.
"To be honest, I haven't had a single dream like the one I had two weeks ago. A whole fourteen nights have passed since then and now I'm completely in the dark again. I'm not even sure if I can remember it anymore."
"Does that scare you?"
"I am fucking scared." Kiscawak admitted.
Okinee stopped with the fire for a moment and looked up again. Kiscawak was staring at her with an uneasy expression, eyebrows raised.
"Two weeks ago I was really glad to finally get going somewhere... With somebody... I started to worry though that this was all just a consequence of some one-shot nightmare." Kiscawak said.
"Do you think that's what it was?"
He stared up at the star-holes again.
"It feels like... What I saw is very distant from me now, but..." He looked back, "Whatever I did see was something I'd never seen before in my entire life."
Okinee smiled.
"I trust you, Kiscawak."
As she said this, the fire suddenly sprung up from Okinee's kindling. As it shot fearsomely through the dead twigs and grass, it slowly began to climb up the great logs of wood, free from the turbulence below. It climbed higher and higher, reaching the very pinnacle of the cedar-construction where a fog of black smoke began to pillar out. Kiscawak retreated from the hard-stone for one of the soft pelts that Okinee had laid out onto the ground. She came around and sat next to him.
"You know, these radio towers are military." He said.
"What do you mean?"
"Military, they transmit military signals mostly. They have contact with the Mayistawscic, the Pascisaskic, even with the white man's land."
"Like... They actually talk to them?"
"Well... My father told me about it once. You see, as much as we'd like to stay sheltered from the outside, it's infeasible if we want to keep isolated. To stay isolated we have to... actually reach out. Mostly, the army just transmits simple coded messages to let the outlanders know if there are climate emergencies or if there are any sort of 'international' issues that needs to be shared with the outside. All of it is on a need-to-know basis. It definitely sounds like collaboration, but it's for our own good in the end."
Okinee turned away from the fire to stare at the radio tower for a moment. It was painted red and white, and continued in a pattern of beams and ladders all the way into the clouds.
"And you're going to ignore your own good then."
Kiscawak nodded as he stared off into the fire.
"I think it's a test... Maybe... I'm not sure. Maybe we have it wrong, maybe the outside isn't so bad after all."
Okinee couldn't help but laugh.
"Of course it's not bad. There are so many beautiful places past the mountains, Kiscawak."
"Huh? I thought you said it was a bad idea to go up the mountain!" Kiscawak grimaced.
"Hey-hey-hey... I said I thought it was a bad idea because of the army patrols."
Kiscawak nodded.
"What are the outlander-worlds like, I wonder..." Kiscawak muttered.
"My grandmother told me a story about one of them... She said her ancestors had passed the story down all the way from when the bearded men came." Okinee said.
"Really? Tell me!"
"There is a place, the land of the bearded men. They call it Prydansk. It looks... Well... My grandmother told me that it looks just like where we are right now. It has its forests and it has farms and it has the delicate oceans that we have always had. It has fearsome long-boats, painted in many colours. But most strikingly, Prydansk has these towering structures made from the stones of the mountains. They carve them out and chop them into slabs and stack them upon one another like books. They make these massive walled fortresses they call kastali."
"Like the Great Mother's Stronghold?" Kiscawak pondered.
"Maybe... It has been one thousand years since these things happened, Kiscawak. Think about how much this land has changed in one thousand years."
Kiscawak nodded, Okinee was right of course. But he was too prideful to let the fact slide from his lips. Instead, he reclined upon the pelt and returned his gaze to the night-sky.
"You keep watching the heavens and you might float right up there." Okinee muttered.
"Would that be so bad?" Kiscawak asked.
"Not if I was there too."
Okinee then realized what the massive hint she let slide from her tongue, but despite her sudden panic, she felt no regret. Instead, she calmly followed in Kiscawak's way and reclined upon the pelt too, feeling her heart begin to jump.
"I... I'd like that." Kiscawak replied.
The both of them had now crossed a great line together, and subdued their beating hearts by resting their gazes towards the sky. Suddenly, words became to emerge. Kiscawak began to admit his love as though a magic incantation had brought him to his most determined state of mind.
"You know, when I first saw you—"
Okinee had also found confidence, but rather than delivering passionate prose, she instead found the nerve to act in a more immediate manner. As Kiscawak continued his remarks, Okinee rolled over on her side and placed her hand on Kiscawak's shoulder. He paused abruptly, trying to understand Okinee's motions. Her eyes were splendid and doting, it was his moment. In an instant, he rose from his side and placed his hand upon Okinee's cheek. They kissed very softly.
Kiscawak's mind went blank. All he could do, all he desired to do, was to continue this moment. It was foreign for him of course, no former lover had ever brought him this much bliss. But in contrast with his former partners, there was no guilt nor shame when he kissed her. The two of them continued their embrace for quite some time, basking in the joy of their romance. When the time felt right, the two let go to capture each-other in their vision again.
"You're a good kisser." Kiscawak whispered.
"I know." Okinee giggled.
The two laughed together as Okinee slowly fell into Kiscawak's arms. She let one of her hands rest upon his chest as She laid her head on his shoulder. Thankfully, it was not the shoulder that had been wounded by the bear. Looking at their surroundings again, they realized that it had now started snowing. Beautiful animate sprinklings of snow began to descend, illuminated in the sweet moonlight. They were all-too pleasant.
"You know two weeks ago when we first met, I hated your damn guts, but now I wouldn't dare leave your arms." Okinee whispered.
"Nah... I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you." He admitted.
She smiled again, moving her head further into Kiscawak's. Sitting under the snowfall, the couple managed to lay together for half an hour, doing nought but enjoying each-other's still company. Although Okinee was rapidly developing a romantic fervour of her own.
"Let's go into the tipi. We're gonna freeze to death out here." She proposed
"Well I'm very warm here by the fire, but I won't go against your better judgement."
Okinee grinned and took Kiscawak's hand. She quickly got up from the pelt and pulled him from the ground with all her strength. They both laughed as Okinee began to tug Kiscawak towards the wigwam with great enthusiasm.
"Mmm. Slow down would you?" He chuckled.
The couple went into the tipi and let down the door-cover from its strings. As they shared their affectionate moment together alone and deep within the inner forest, the passionate howls of the wolf-pack began to resonate around the woods. The fire outside the tent continued to burn steadily, all throughout the night.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
The Okipah — The national frontier guard of the Tusacaway, likened to a national police force Bearded-men — Prydanians Land of the gun — Mintoria Sky-Woman — The wife of the Manitou, who is said to have fallen from the sky for her failure to shine like the stars. "The Mayistawscic, the Pascisaskic, even with the white man's land." — Prydania, Mintoria, and Highton respectively. Kastali — "Castle" in Prydanian Makari
The cave bear has a remarkable sense of smell. They can identify the odour of their prey despite being kilometres away from them. Their hearing too—is a precious gift. They can hear the knock of the caribou's soft hooves against the forest floor. Bears can detect what we cannot, and find the leftover scraps from years past. This is to some, a cynical but accurate description of the Tusacaway's national frontiersmen guard, the Okipah. This organization was established expeditiously after confederation, some even say they were assembled well before an official army. They are the bears of the country, a fact which they revel in, their star animal displayed in its aggressive might on their standards. They are the ancient manhood guardians of the country and their violent escapades along the mountains can be sometimes controversial. They chase fugitives for days with nothing but the barrel of a rifle and a stick of pemmican. They dehumanize their horses, forcing them to climb rock after rock, cliff after cliff. It is said that they deplete their animals of any passion or sensitivity, never again to breed. Some are not aware of this, but they carry skis solely for the unlikely scenario that a defector intends to use the snow of the mountain to their advantage. Yes, these men are loathsome and vile. But for the security of the nation, are the great defenders.
From atop this sacred mountain, I see Lieutenant Kaskitew, the seventh only officer of his rank in the Okipah. His lifeless eyes have seen a truly gruesome pawakan, dark oracles bestowed ancient and nefarious demons into his mind to plague him with the curse of service for all eternity. Knowing the sheer murder that man has had to witness can spoil the amicable bonds that come about so naturally between living beings. It is said that this man is frozen in his age, never to grow nor diminish in size.
It is the individual's choice to be faithful to his pawakan in the end, but I know enough guilt-stricken and perverse men disloyal to their spiritual duty to know that the choice to disregard your calling is one that can be ruinous. Lieutenant Kaskitew know it, that day at the coast of the pond where nightmarish machinations rose from the waters to deliver his regrettable news.
The constellations have been hard for those like me to read. I see every aspect and orientation of these bodies in rhythm but I cannot hear any of the real melody. This celestial place has grown too complex for my insight. Curse my transcendence! And curse that which I cannot see! Oh, to be a bear.
— • —
SIPYK
Kaskitew was dispatched from Nytamatin to investigate a petty burglary. The events of which were still unclear, but Kaskitew knew that the issue was trivial. The natures of these things were perfectly predictable to him, and what bothered him even more was the ancient sun which appeared to be in combat with the approaching winter. One day, scorching heat, Another day, deathly cold. Kaskitew broke a sweat the moment he mounted his horse and left from Sipyk to investigate.
Upon arriving, he was greeted by an elder who occupied the house. Unfortunately, it was not an elder from which one could find information of use, but the kind that had began the so-called "dying of the lights". The wisdom of his younger-older years was now beginning to be bleached in a thick fog of forgetfulness, a fate that all the wise elders of the land would be forced to face someday. This very fact repelled Kaskitew even more from the situation, although he managed to endure the man's frantic explanation of events.
"I heard 'em come into my yard yesterday... While I was making dinner, I went over to the table to get over with finalizing my relinquishment, and all of a sudden I see two shadows making a fuss in the garden! I was worried that they had criminal intent, so I ducked behind the sill and watched as they began to tear through m'laundry! Crazy kids!"
Unaware of the great ordeal to follow his seemingly trivial investigation, Kaskitew scoffed and begrudgingly began to record the man's statements onto his pad of paper. His headband was growing awfully uncomfortable around his head as the intermittent autumn sun beamed against his head, and his foul mood had nearly completely led him to consider just dropping the entire thing.
"And so these were kids then, Pactaw?" Kaskitew demanded.
"Kids! Littl'uns! Young'uns! Teena..."
"I get it, Pactaw, I want to know how you knew they were kids." He interjected.
"Oh, they were as tall as the sky-door but I could tell by their giggling."
"Giggles, eh?"
"A young man and 'er lady friend!"
Kaskitew looked up for a moment.
"So this was a couple too." Kaskitew muttered, rubbing his chin with his leather glove, "What did they take?"
"Just a tunic! One single ol' tunic! Boy-oh-boy, if they'd only come to the door I would've given it to 'em for free!"
"Do you mind if I have a look in your backyard, Pactaw?"
"I don't mind at all! I'll have some tea made for you as well if you're mighty thirsty!"
The mere thought of a hot beverage in this climate angered him to the very centre of his physical and spiritual core.
"No. I'll just make my way around if that's alright."
Kaskitew immediately swung away from the old man's door and hopped over the wooden fence-posts. He landed in a maple shrub who's brittle branches squeaked under his suede boots as he dragged his feet over them into the lawn. He began to look around the premises, trying to find anything to indicate if a group of people had been there. He scanned the walls of the house for any markings or belongings at the foundation, he diverted his eyes after finding nothing and approached the laundry line with haste. The line was a crude rope that blew a foot in either direction even with the smallest gush of wind. He moved along it with his gloves, and ended at the wooden post which the rope was tied to. There were some cement tiles that supported a cedar-barrel filled to the brim with dirty laundry. Kaskitew began to look around the barrel and found something promising.
"A cloth?" He inquired firmly, "What on earth is going on here? Is this... blood?"
He observed the cloth for a few more moments and then immediately shoved it into his pocket, he decided again to peek around the barrel one last time before returning to the man's front door, but fate had it that Kaskitew would find something else. There were two feathers resting atop the dirty laundry pile. Kaskitew caught them in his final gaze and reached out to inspect them. Evidently, they were cosmetic feathers. They had the gleaming quality attributed to other sorts of hair-ties and they demonstrated great sturdiness.
"This is... screech owl plumage. What is a plains person doing down here, hmm?"
Kaskitew frowned, further considering his findings.
"Wait, I've seen these before... in Menykawn. These feathers are way too small to be from the prairie."
Suddenly, the realization came upon him and his eyes widened in a fit of pursuant rage.
"Teenagers from Menykawn! Those bastards are on pawakan! They thought they were slick stealing some poor old bugger's laundry, eh?"
"Nistis! Did you find anything?" The old man called from the back window.
Kaskitew turned around smoothly with a wide grin on his face. There was colour to his cheeks now, and his displeased, immobile state had been suddenly invigorated with energy. His senses were locked on now.
"I found something, alright."
"What is it?" The old man asked.
"You've got some visionaries here, Pascaw." Kaskitew replied.
"Visionaries! Stealing!? No wonder they didn't try to talk to me. Oh well, kids'll be kids I guess."
Kaskitew nodded and quickly darted away from the window.
"Hey? I don't think I want to press charges though!" He shouted uneasily.
"Don't matter, old man. These feathers are all I needed. Thanks though!"
Kaskitew stepped on the maple shrub again to boost himself over the fence poles. He dashed for his horse which he had left tied to a streetlamp near the gravel road. The old man scoffed before retreating his head back through his window and drawing in the shutters. Kaskitew quickly rode out of the neighbourhood, towards tae nearby plateau where he could get a good look at his surroundings. He withdrew a map from his horse's satchel as they climbed up to the flat and clipped his compass to the top of the chart. He began to move the map around, following the compass with his eyes.
"From Menykawn to Sipyk..."
He moved his map to the left and followed the compass towards the great looming figure of the shield rock in the background.
"I can't believe this!" He shouted, "I caught 'em early!" He roared.
Kaskitew then slapped his horse across the top of his head in self-splendour, continuing to laugh at his remarkable success. The horse flinched in discomfort.
"Let's get going buddy! We're off to Nytamatin to find ourselves a legion!"
He let the full force of his spur into the stallion's hindquarters and hollered pridefully as the horse leapt up from the ground in shock. It began to charge forward at full speed into the forest, destined to bring the young Lieutenant to his legions.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Pactaw — Male honorific Nistis — Term used to address an acquaintance or new colleague Nytamatin — A military-town in the southern Tusacaway, one of the most remote in the country
I see you there, at the base of this ivory castle,
The stairs are vast and steep,
Its tenants have been long asleep,
Do you know from where you came?
Your low-born lover trembles,
The ethereal winds sing ballads of love,
In star-born flutes from above,
Your conspirator herein assembles,
Do you know from where you came?
Overlook thy holy shield,
Do not concede to the battlefield,
When all is won,
When all is through,
Will you know from where you came?
— • —
THE BASE OF THE SHIELD ROCK
It was getting very cold now. Snowfall had become a daily occurance, and vast accumulations of frost and dew permeated the forest floor. But having spent two and a half weeks on foot, Kiscawak and Okinee had finally reached the base of the Shield Rock. The pair emerged carefully from the forest and onto a plateau that fed onto a nearby cliff. They stopped for occasionally to see if there were any Okipah around, but there was nothing at all. There was no one to see. There were no birds, no animals, no flowing of the springs, no draught of the wind. The stoney flat upon which they settled for the night was a place tempered from the constraints of time. The motions of the day were microscopic eternities within a blurred fever. It was true that there had only been a few memorable moments in the past seventeen nights, wandering through the forest accounted for the majority of those days. Though it was now the distance from home that began to burden Kiscawak. Specks of nostalgia seemed to poke him and fall away in a depressing withdrawal. Fortunately, every day Kiscawak had Okinee to rely on. His rapid consumption was appeased by his love, and the absence of wholesome moments could be remedied by his affection.
In the morning, they began to climb.
It was now too difficult to carry all of the supplies Okinee had salvaged. But to leave their wares out in the open was a death sentence. They assembled crockery, dishes, bundles of sticks, and tools into the massive pelt exterior that covered their tipi. Okinee tied it up with pelt straps and Kiscawak left early in the morning to bury it near a promenant boulder in the landscape. All the pair had now was their firewood, their cots, their furs, and their wits. Most importantly, they had their last stocks of pemmican with them, the finality of the congealed energy-rich squares that Kiscawak was beginning to resent, being in the wilderness for so long.
They moved up the low mountain slowly, their impatience pushed them to move faster, but they knew better than to punish their lungs for time's sake.
"You're quiet, nîcimos." Okinee remarked.
"Yeah... I guess I've just been thinking too much for my own good."
"I understand that. Things are getting pretty bleak these days. It's damaging for the spirit."
"That's to be expected I think... I guess... I really can't touch on anything my dad talked about anymore."
Okinee's face dropped. But she didn't want to openly pity the boy.
"My father always said that it was silly to prepare a man without experience. You can't learn lacrosse by reading about it."
Kiscawak nodded firmly but did not say a word. Any further pursuing the topic would lead to a conversation they had had over and over again. Kiscawak decided to change the mood.
"What was your dad like, nîcimos?" Kiscawak asked.
"My father? He wasn't around too much." Okinee replied.
"No?"
"He worked in a medicine factory or something... He wasn't a miner, that's for sure. He didn't have the strength. My own mother could probably carry him around in her own arms. That's how skinny he was."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Kiscawak replied.
She sighed, "I know you are."
Today was not to be a satisfying day for sure. Kiscawak reckoned the constellations were inverted this month, a sign that it was time to be distant and to self-reflect. Although Kiscawak knew the burden of self-reflection could prove hostile. He would rather be wracked in the guilt that came with his privilege than travel alone through his mind.
As they continued navigating the stoney hill, a sudden buzzing began to trail behind. It was surprising to find that the only other living being to be found in the region was in the form of a tiny insect humming behind Kiscawak. He stopped walking for a moment and then turned around to find the bug that was pestering him. A ravenous horse fly was pursuing Kiscawak and began to orbit around him as he attempted to whack it. Unfortunately, the fly possessed brilliant acrobatic faculties and dove right upon Kiscawak's arm to bite him.
"Ouch!" Kiscawak exclaimed, crushing the fly with his hand.
He looked up after swatting away the dead insect and quickly noticed something further behind him. On a cliff further downhill, there was movement. A man emerged from beyond the curve of the mountain. He held in his hand a Mintorian-style and wore a great red banner around his head, kept in place by a single hawk feather. There was no time to be sensitive, Kiscawak yanked Okinee from her place and thrusted her behind a stone ridge, he followed, just before the man could catch them.
"Don't say anything. There's Okipah." He whispered.
Okinee reached for the back of her head in pain, the collision had left a sore spot. She quickly resolved to hitting Kiscawak across the cheek. Kiscawak groaned at her reaction. Okinee then gazed beyond the ridge to look for the officer. She then locked eyes with the man, or so she thought. At first it seemed like the man was staring right at her, but she was certain he was just patrolling. His gaze was solemn and difficult to clearly make out, reminiscent of the soldiers back in Assipisk.
"I see him over there still but I'm pretty sure he's just on the lookout. He might stand there looking around for the next half-hour so we're going to have to wait around for a bit." Okinee said.
"Is that what they do?" Kiscawak asked.
"It's what they did on Twin Sister, I'm sure it wouldn't be any different here."
Kiscawak nodded. The pair proceeded to quietly sit down behind the rock. As they waited, Okinee placed her hand in Kiscawak's.
— • —
NYTAMATIN
"Well this is very intriguing indeed, Lieutenant. And you are certain about it?"
The Okipah precinct in Nytamatin was empty for the weekend. Maps, files, and affairs were smothered across tables. Radio-receivers faintly chirped at the back of the office near the wall. Alone in the quarters was Lieutenant Kaskitew, worn out from his day's voyage to Nytamatin, and the solitary Lieutenant Wammyt. The two were both high officials within the ranks of the Okipah, and had worked together for some time, usually with great success. Despite this, their means of pursuit and justice were both quite different. What really brought these two lieutenants together was their fervour. The pursuit of justice to them was an olympic game, and the prospect of winning pleased them immensely.
"There's plenty of evidence already, but more than that, I can smell that something's up."
"Scents can be misleading and no, the evidence which you have procured for me is baseline at most."
"I'm willing to stake anything on it."
"Anything?"
"I said what I said."
Wammyt looked from over the documents on his desk. Kaskitew glared persistently, it was the somewhat irritating and somewhat endearing quality that he used to sway others. It was enough to extract Wammyt from his passive thoughts and entice him to focus on the situation.
"You are actually this certain?" Wammyt inquired.
"Are you gonna make me repeat myself a million times?
"Well, you know better than most how much I enjoy my job here. If you really are this positive... I can come with you."
Kaskitew let out a smile from his hardened face. Wammyt simpered, amused in having broken his relentless expression. He turned back to his work again, adopting his natural persona of a calculator. Yet the lieutenant remained there, loitering over the desk with his hands on the edges.
"You are hovering, Pactaw." Wammyt muttered.
"I like seeing you smile, Lieutenant." Kaskitew replied.
"That is correct, I am a Lieutenant here."
"Why don't we go do something after we catch 'em, Lieutenant?"
Wammyt scoffed and laughed in the same breath.
"Just because this office is closed does not mean that I am not working."
"Oh yeah?" Kaskitew said, going for his hand.
Wammyt avoided his offer and went quickly to grab a pen. Kaskitew conceded.
"Come on."
"Kaskitew, you always get like this. Every time you find a lead you wish to work things out. But I know better than anyone else how you act after the case is over."
Kaskitew rose from over the desk and grabbed the pen out of Wammyt's hands. Wammyt immediately interlocked his fingers and sighed before looking up at the Lieutenant again.
"You want me to come now?" Wammyt inquired.
"Criminals are on the run, Lieutenant. Time to haul ass."
"Very well. I will fetch my horse then," Wammyt replied, "And this time, you had better wait for me otherwise I will return to my desk and you can go off on your own."
Kaskitew giggled as Wammyt rose from his desk and gathered his affairs into his bag. He broke off from the desk and slowly made his way outside the precinct, twirling the pen between his fingers. His long-suffering stallion was drawn to a lamppost, who's eyes widened seeing his avid rider return outside. Kaskitew looked towards the Shield Rock as he awaited Wammyt to return.
"You're not going anywhere, kids." He hexed under his breath.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Nîcimos — "You whom I love", a neutral term of endearment in Tusacaw Mintorian-style — Originally meaning any firearm acquired or copied from Mintorian vendors, today the term is used for pump-action shotguns Twin Sister — The northernmost mountain in the Tusacaway, located near and within the Tusacwyan northwest Pactaw — Male honorific
Your nights grow swift and quick as the air finds less of itself in your lungs. The days go short. You must adjust yourself promptly to the change in conditions on the mountain, or else you will never make it up here alive. I understand now that you are being sought out. I can see your pursuer in the distance. He is an ostentatious young fellow and eager to catch men in the act, and he has a partner too. So now your endurance must be your primordial strength. Balance is what you are prayed to find. Rush too soon and the elements shall have you deceased, trot too slow and your stalkers on horseback shall steal you from your pawakan. I advise you now to never feel ashamed of yourself, Kiscawak. It seems so silly that the gentle stars can float up above with no problem. But you must know that those stars are burning embers smuggled in a thick cloud of darkness. At any moment, the weakest ones may be snuffed out and killed.
You are so close, Kiscawak. I want you to feel the glory of your strife on the horizon. And most importantly, do not give up hope.
— • —
ONE THOUSAND METRES FROM THE GROUND
It had been two days since their encounter with the Okipah-man on the Shield Rock. As the pair ascended the cold hard mountain, the mists and the clouds shrouded the trees of the forest below. One turn of the head and the perilous ground could be seen retreating away in the shadows. Kiscawak and Okinee were extremely tired now, and the thought of any means to quicken their exhaustive journey was blissful. Hiking for another five straight hours, the pair found the time to sit down near a fire and drink water, a commodity which had gracefully been in great supply up on the snowy banks. The twilight shined a vivid violet over their heads as they lied near the permafrost and the stone. The fire burned a little smaller, but seemed to aid their endeavour to keep trackless. They could only light fires at dark now. It was a small blessing after marching for hours through the frigid mountain ridges. As they set down their affairs, Okinee immediately fell into Kiscawak's body, as though she had conceded to fainting.
"I wish we had a horse." Okinee muttered.
"If only..." Kiscawak muttered back.
As Kiscawak grew closer and closer to the peak of the Shield Rock, his pallor became more and more profound . It was a mixture of the uncertainty and the lack of energy, whichever dominated his lack of good health was irrelevant considering there was no way to alleviate either.
"So what do you think you're gonna see?" Okinee asked.
"I think..." He deliberated, "I think I'm gonna see something no one has ever seen before." Kiscawak admitted.
"Everyone sees something they haven't seen before."
"I mean something unique to this country. Something that will affect everyone."
Okinee turned over.
"Do visionaries ever go up mountains?" Okinee asked.
"Never. Not that I've ever heard of."
"Are you still afraid you won't find anything up there?"
Kiscawak sighed.
"I don't think so anymore. I think I just... I'm just afraid I'll never find out."
Okinee's eyes shot open in concern of his attitude. It was a striking and new morbidity that Okinee had never seen in him. Kiscawak had never been a cynic. It was the result of his homesickness no doubt, fanned by the uncertainty of his actions. Okinee decided to move away from the subject.
"Still no more dreams?"
"Not dreams... But..."
Kiscawak grunted. He looked above his head and turned around to see the peak of the mountain at the very tip of his gaze. There were lights up there, very subtle rays of white that contrasted with the purple-black sky. The stars were dimmer than usual, and made way for the spectral phenomenon.
"Visions, I think. I'm beginning to see things up here. I'm beginning to feel things up here. I can almost hear sounds from the peak, little notions that just sort of put me off. It's really different... So no, I'm not afraid that what I've dreamt was wrong, I'm afraid that we're... never going to make it up to the top."
"We're not going to get killed." Okinee quickly shot back, "You killed those highwaymen, you endured that bear attack, you found your way to the Shield Rock."
"I killed three meagre lunatics with breadknives, I was saved from a bear attack after getting my ass handed to me, and I found you to lead me to the Shield Rock." Kiscawak muttered."
Okinee rose from her lover's arms and grabbed his wrist with all her strength. He shot up in pain and tried to resist her grasp.
"Listen to me Kiscawak, and you listen good! I won't have some sissy-boy complaining about being favoured by the Manitou. In Assipisk do you think I was given the opportunity to go out and find my calling in life? Of course not, I was stuck in a house with my mother waiting to get married off to some guy who I lived down the trail from. At least he had wêyo, but was I ready to marry some raging, violent, monster down the road? So think, Kiscawak. What would have happened if I hadn't left some few months ago? What would have happened if I'd given up? I worried about getting killed on my way out too, but dammit! I grew a pair and managed my way out and I would never regret it within an inch of my life."
"Stop that!" Kiscawak said, pushing her angrily away.
Okinee fell over but quickly regained her footing. Kiscawak immediately covered his face with his hands.
"So you didn't know what you were getting into. You were ready to do it alone, you were ready to face anything. But right here, right now, you are going through what every other man your age is going through right now. Think about everyone else, alone in the plains, in the forest, along the river... The one thing you all have in common is that you're about to know something crazy."
Okinee kneeled next to Kiscawak.
"I can hold your hand and cheer you along the way, but dammit Kiscawak. You can't give up! Not when you've made it so far."
Kiscawak turned to face her. His face was red with agitation, although he made it a point of himself not to burst into tears.
"But Okinee, what are we going to do when this is all over?"
Okinee's resolute face suddenly went very solemn. It was a question she herself had not yet considered, and seeing how close the two were to their final destination, it seemed to inflate in importance. She sighed.
"Yeah... Yeah..." She conceded pensively.
Okinee turned and overlooked the plateau upon which they had set up their camp. There was a massive cliff that dropped below the mists at the treetops, slowly forming a frost at the base of the mountain. The air moved tumultuously and reflected the deep purple sky back into Okinee's gaze. The ground was now just a strange void, and bore no resemblance to home.
"If you came back to Tawaic with me, you'd be toast. You're Assipisca. And I know for a fact they keep records of all escapees. Even if you could live among them, you'd be forced to confront my parents."
"Them?" Okinee inquired.
"Them... Tawaic."
"No, no. I know you mean Tawaic. But you said 'them'. You're separating yourself from them."
Kiscawak turned his face to find Okinee sitting over the drop. Soft moonbeams dimly illuminated her position, dangling her legs in thorough consideration. It was a sight that brought sadness into Kiscawak, as though she felt dejected, her face out of his sight. He wondered if he was supposed to feel sad for her here. This was his own mission after all, why was she forcing him into such an uncomfortable position?
"So now you're going to make this a 'me or them'?" Kiscawak asked.
"No, I never said that."
"How am I supposed to feel better or confident about myself if you're going to back me into a corner like this?"
Okinee gave up, and revealed her intention.
"You have to make the choice someday, Kiscawak. It's not like you can have us both."
"You can be really manipulative, you know. You wanted my trust and my empathy, okay, you got it. But now you're trying to use it against me to favour you."
"I just want to get off this fucking mountain!" She shouted.
"You agreed to come with me... And... And you're going to come with me to the top."
"Now who's manipulative?"
Kiscawak suddenly got a hold of his emotions. The fury he was fondling had burst into a sense of command, and he was prepared to go all in.
"You know what, fine! Tomorrow morning we're not stopping until sundown. We're going to reach the top in the next 48 hours whether you like it or not!"
"Hey! What did I tell you about pushing me around?"
"This is what you want. You wanted me to get up off my ass, so here we are."
The two were now on their feet, staring at each other with bitter adversity. Kiscawak wanted badly to preserve the initial grace of their relationship, and to keep their affairs in tranquil splendour, but now Kiscawak knew there was no undoing this dispute. It would have to proceed as time dictated.
"You can't keep playing the Assipisk card whenever I make a decision. So now it's you who needs to make the decision, Okinee. Are you going to stay with me? Or are you going back to the woods?"
Okinee scoffed in surprise. She wore a shocked expression and put her hand to her mouth as if to cover the shame she held. The plateau fell flat for a long time. There was a venomous silence that neither wished to be the first to undo. With their heads down, they refused to face each other.
"Go up your mountain, Kiscawak... It's your pawakan... But I can't be there in the end. You're right. I'm not in that picture."
"Okinee." Kiscawak shook his head.
But Okinee began to walk off. She left her satchel with the pemmican and she left her knife at Kiscawak's side. She just left. Kiscawak tried to follow her down to path to reconcile, only to have Okinee turn around and face him again. This time her eyes were softened with surprising tears. Kiscawak breathed.
"Just leave me alone, okay?"
She continued on, by herself. The sight of Okinee so damaged had left Kiscawak disturbed, had he really done that to the headstrong woman he loved? It was unexpected to Kiscawak that he withheld the power to be so cruel, and at that point he gave up trying to consider how to reverse what had happened.
Goodbye, sweet Okinee. Kiscawak stuttered away with his own thoughts.
Your parents went to the Atakamek in Tawaic last night. The manitou constellation was so close you could reach for it and grab for the stars, shining at the zenith of the night sky. Even the Mitouyew was shocked by such a gracious sight. Just north of the manitou appeared the big bear constellation, who's stars shone dimly next to those of the manitou's. To the east was the pelican, who's wings carried her towards the Shield Rock. You could not imagine how gracious the attendees were. The moon left no imprint on the sky, there was not a single dark star to impede the orrery, the planetarium was the most peaceful it could ever be. Some called it a godsend. Seeing such excellent sights from their place on the ground, your parents rejoiced, thankful for this providence that their child would be alright. Although yours were not alone. As I speak, only a trifle of visionaries have come back to Tawaic. Most, I presume, falsified their visions. Some may have had miniature encounters with the Manitou. Fear not, Kiscawak, most of your parents' contemporaries are also rejoicing for their children's safety.
Imagine that, an entire town praying in unison for their children under starlight. Optimistic and frightened they are for what tales their progeny will return to them.
Are you ready?
— • —
THE BASE OF THE SHIELD ROCK
After her lone descent, Okinee had finally reached the base of the mountain again. Each step backwards felt offensive, and it was not until reaching the glare of the forest that she realized how quiet it was. The deathly valley where the forest met the mountain forced her to stop and recollect her surroundings. This place, devoid of life, felt timeless. It felt like there was nothing to ever happen in this place for thousands of years, the sterility of the green belt felt like sacred ground for ghosts trapped in their ancient places, never dared to be disturbed by humanity. Okinee shuddered, and went over to the boulder where she had buried her wares, quick to leave and to start again on her personal journey.
Suddenly, from without the end of the glare came two men on horseback. The deep black stallions were raging with a thunderous edge, whilst the men on top carried an obvious machismo, their eyes hidden by the tips of their hats which were black laden with bands of woven string—Okipah!
Okinee hadn't noticed the twosome until the sounds of horses trotting across the glare finally reached her ears. Her head whipped back in fear just as she arrived in front of the boulder. Luckily she hadn't started to uncover her things otherwise she would appear even more suspicious. Unfortunately, Okinee had lost her nerve, her mind went numb and it felt like she had woken up after falling asleep at the wheel of a speedboat. Fake stories assembled in her mind, secret identities, names, places. She had no idea what to say to the approaching officers. Her life was at stake.
"Anisco, what are you doing 'round here?" One of the lieutenants asked.
"Oh, I was just..."
"Kaskitew! There is no time for conversation... Anisco, have you seen a teenage boy and a girl around here?"
"... Yes." Okinee replied.
"Wammyt, we were right!" The other lieutenant beamed.
"And were these individuals bound up the mountain?"
"They went up that path, yes." Okinee said.
"We're some lucky duckies today, Wammyt. Thanks, Anisco, you've done us some good!"
The more verbose lieutenant looked on as the cheerful one galloped on towards the pathway, ramming his spur into his horse's hindquarters. A painful sight for Okinee.
"I apologize. This lieutenant is quite an eager man. Thank you for your service, Anisco, and try to keep away from the mountains to avoid danger, yes?"
"Yes, Pactaw." Okinee replied.
"Goodbye!"
The other lieutenant began to follow up the footpath that Okinee and Kiscawak had taken to reach the summit of the Shield Rock. As Okinee drew a sigh of relief and slowly began to dig at her supplies buried in the dirt. She stopped, a pang of guilt besieged her. She had just doomed Kiscawak! She rested with her back to the edge of the boulder, observing the snow-patches for relief as she was pommeled with guilt. It was shameful to lie, and not only that, to incriminate someone of a crime you had been equally responsible for. And regardless, once the officers reached the peak of the Shield Rock, they would find out that she was the 'girl' with Kiscawak.
But she could run now.
No! Don't run! What are you thinking?
Get out of here! Make away with your life!
No, absolve your mistakes! Get up there and stop them before it's too late!
Okinee began to rub her eyes with her palms. The guilt was like strangulation, and she felt nauseated. As she released her palms and took another deep sigh, another appearance came from without the glare. This one was different. It was a woman, dressed in some glowing feathers, the air around her glowed like sparkling diamonds as her hair blew in a wind that did not exist. Okinee gasped. An ethereal blue haze seemed to follow her as she walked towards her. She then realized that the woman was dressed in nothing but feathers. Pelican, screech owl, magpie, crow, all adorned around her figure. It was the Sky-Woman. Okinee felt immobilized as the light of the world seemed to centre around the apparition. She walked slowly towards Okinee before halting very close to her. She felt very resistant to face what she believed to be a hallucination, but she also refused to leave.
Her face was beautiful, her hair was full and gorgeous, a matronly-like figure who radiated love and warm compassion. Okinee felt as if she were about to cry.
"My sweet child, are you well?" The Sky-Woman asked.
"No... I feel lousy." Okinee admitted.
"Oh, my poor girl! Come and be held your dear mother."
The apparition began to hug Okinee. Her light was cleansing and the warmth was illuminating. Within just a moment of the Sky-Woman's consolation, Okinee began to feel a mote of hope.
"What do I do, Great Mother?"
"You, Okinee, are a great and powerful woman. And you have been neglected and ignored because of it. It was hard to see such a strong individual live among the beaten and destroyed, but know now, your suffering is to be rectified my dear. You are not just some low-born lover of the chosen one, Okinee, you are chosen."
"I... I am?" Okinee asked.
"You have come all this way from the abyss, persevering among great perils and proving yourself to the Manitou. Yes, Kiscawak is indeed a chosen man, but duality is the nature of mankind, and you and Kiscawak are both the next great leaders of your people"
"But... I'm clanless." Okinee frowned.
"You will find that once you appear among your people, they will not be able to condemn you or to send you away."
"How, Great Mother?"
"You will know once you have committed to your destiny. Do not be afraid to show your face in public. Your torment will end the moment you rise from the earth... As a Great Mother."
"G... Great Mother!" Okinee gasped.
"You are the next Great Mother, Okinee. The next mother of mankind, the next matron of the earth. Your duty is sacred, and you must obey my words."
"Yes... Yes, Mother!"
"Save your man from his death and the duality will endure. A bond that will last the ages. I can only count on you, my daughter."
"Yes, Mother!"
The Sky-Woman proceeded to hold Okinee's face with her radiant hand, smiling. Suddenly, she lifted her two arms and let her face indulge in the light of the day, she began to rise upwards, and disappear in the sunbeams. Okinee stood there for a moment, contemplative. And then she looked to the mountain.
There's a stone altar at the centre of the summit.
A colonnade of dead pines, carved with the names of ancient souls surrounds the perimeter.
In the distance, the light of twilight and the wintry clouds covers the image of another land.
Kiscawak began to walk senselessly and mindlessly up the final stretch of mountain, with the mindset of finality rather than beginning. With the rest of his resources, he had perilously charged up the rest of the path. He wished whatever that was to happen to happen quickly. His eyes were rounded in tired, black rings. He shivered endlessly as he walked with his bearskin blanket at his shoulders. The frostbite began to bite. He devoured the rest of his pemmican like a sickly owl, pecking and swallowing without thought. He walked among the snow as the cold froze his nerves. Approaching the summit, he began to see the terrific structures about the place, including the stone altar which began to glow as he put one foot in front of the other. Approaching the artefact with the final reserves of his strength, a red, hazy figure began to appear. It was floating just above the altar, the man he had seen in his dreams, the Watchman.
Kiscawak dug his knees into the snow, prostrating before what he knew to be a hallowed relic. The Watchman was a daunting figure. He held an astral telescope in his hands, and was adorned in many rich pelts, but a long trailing bonnet that seemed to trail endlessly behind him. He looked down upon Kiscawak.
"Cahcahkiw Kîskâwacâpaskwâw." He addressed Kiscawak by his full name.
"Watchman... Elder." He muttered.
"You have made it just in time, my child. I have been waiting quite patiently, three weeks it took you to come here."
"Yes, Elder..."
"Are you prepared to see your pawakan?"
"I've been prepared... For days..."
"I see the truth in your desperation, let it help you along your vision, Kiscawak. Come up upon this altar."
Kiscawak looked up to the Watchman with a resentful glare, his eyes broken with a tiny current of determination still flickering through them. He crawled onto the altar like a shaky hermit and fell over in fatigue. The Watchman proceeded to step down towards the cedar pillars and conjure up his hands.
"The outlanders are not dangerous people. They are not evil people. They are not intrinsically different from you." The Watchman said.
"I know." Kiscawak muttered.
"And essential that you do know it. You have the desire and the willingness to accept the truth, however heavy it may seem. But there is a truth which you do not know about the outlanders. Because it rests in a time that does not yet exist."
"No?"
"Let me show you."
The Watchman proceeded to disappear, disappearing into a thin haze and moving about the summit, letting out a trail of ethereal dust wherever he moved. Suddenly the subtle light of twilight faded into black, clouds and fog began to block the rest of the world as Kiscawak descended into a nightmare.
There were images that began to flood Kiscawak's consciousness. Terrifying personifications of the evils of the world. Agitation which forced him about as flashes of hateful intent began to disorient him. Suddenly, the likenesses of a hundred ancient warriors began to appear before him, all facing Kiscawak with distraught faces. They were dressed in Mistamek feathers, their faces painted with purple and green in the ancient fashion. They shrieked in fear as from behind Kiscawak, came thousands of bearded warriors in chain and metal. The Mistamek were blocked by the ravaging outlanders with their swords, shields, and torches alight. Ghoulish shrieking began to emerge among the massacre, Kiscawak attempted to cover his ears but the sounds only became more and more piercing.
Then there was a sudden decrescendo. In the next scope of visions that enveloped Kiscawak's mind came some damaged-looking men, musketeers dressed in leather and mountaineering equipment. Some wore beards, some wore long, straight hair. They each laid their eyes upon Kiscawak in condescending glare. They then dropped their rifles in unison before Kiscawak, as though they were inviting him to pick one of them up. He reached out with his fearsome hand and pulled one of the rifles into his arm as the musketeer apparitions began to evaporate. In their place came a horde of ugly, angry soldiers. They wore bright blue military uniforms and large hats adorned with gold trimmings. Bayonets topped their guns as they charged forward, eyes ready to kill anyone on sight. One of them had their sights right on Kiscawak. The fear was insurmountable, the silver blade came pouncing like a mountain lion. He readied his rifle and fired just moments before the soldier came into distance.
The soldier collapsed and his bright military cap flew from his head onto the ground. Blood began to trickle from his wounds as a quietus surrounded him and Kiscawak. The rest of the army vanished as the gunshot's flash eclipsed the darkness. Kiscawak crawled forward instinctively to look upon who he had killed. As he looked into the deceased eyes of the soldier, he found that his face seemed to change repeatedly, transfiguring along those of many different ethnicities, people of all other countries, of all other towns and cities and families.
Kiscawak began to fall. His body lost control as the floor seemed to burst away into a deep tunnel of lights and flashes. Streaks of red and blue careened past his vision as he tumbled deeper and deeper into the floor. He screamed as he descended faster and faster.
"The Tusacwyan people are savages!" A thunderous voice boomed across the tunnel.
Kiscawak looked towards his descent and saw a great face at the end of the fall, a red face wrought with fiery expression, scared with the wrinkles of battle. Another leader, hollering at his zealots as they charged into the motherland.
"They kill without thought! They refuse to accept peace! They have armed themselves in anger and have oppressed their own people! They accept a way of living that is vicious and leaves no mercy for the meek!"
Kiscawak tried to cover his ears again to no avail. All he could do was close his weary eyes, though the image of the wrathful head scarred his mind like bad familiars.
"These people are evil! We have been called to liberate them from the oppression of their barbaric councils and their primitive religions, which throw lashes of unending terror upon those who strive for freedom. Onwards!"
Kiscawak began to wail.
"And their precious commodities, their fields of corn and their splendid mines, they shall serve for the betterment of all they have destroyed, including our own people! Those things which they have refused to share in spite of themselves. As our people endure horrors to merely put food on the table, these people drown in the luxuries of their own vanity!"
"No!" Kiscawak screamed! "I won't let you do this!"
Suddenly, the descent stopped. Kiscawak's descent began to slow until he stopped, resting in a supine position above a dark floor. The bright flashes and despicable voices all vanished as the red haze of the Watchman reappeared before Kiscawak.
"They want to kill us." Kiscawak cried.
"They will, Kiscawak, they will."
"Yes... I understand the truth of this."
"You will rejoice when you have saved our people." The Watchman smiled.
"I... I want to go home."
"Yes... You have not forgotten your home in spite of your ambition. You have not forgotten your elders when fated with death. Even now, deep in the confines of the Manitou's tests, you have kept what is important within your mind."
"How will I be able to save anyone? It all seems to have come so fast."
"You will see it unfold along all your life. Your choices will unravel the folds of a golden tapestry. And you will die knowing that woven cloth is fully opened. Its bounty free for all who take from it.
"I'm ready... I'm ready to commit, Watchman."
"Ah... That you are, Chieftain. My work here is complete, you are now prepared to let me go."
— • —
THE SUMMIT OF THE SHIELD ROCK
Kiscawak awoke to find nothing new but a freshly invigorated spirit about him. The altar upon which he rested had shattered into a dozen pieces, tiny pebbles which were now accumulating snow in the blizzard, a relic of time now buried by the coming days. The antique carvings upon the cedar pillars had all vanished, the bark of the dead trees having drifted off in the endless cavalcade of piercing wind. He was certain now that his destiny had been met, and wisdom from a strange place long proceeding this era flooded his mind. He felt certain of his ways, and starting his pawakan as a young man, Kiscawak knew he was beginning to mature.
He stood up and looked around. Only to see the rocky silhouettes that jutted out in the storm. But Kiscawak immediately recognized silhouettes which certainly were not rocky protrusions. There were horsemen in the distance, coming up the side of the Shield Rock.
"Does a man ever get a break?" Kiscawak whispered to himself.
Out of the winds, two Okipah officers appeared, dressed in dark caribou-furs. One of them had a very dark aura about him, and he was the one to immediately dismount his stallion to approach Kiscawak. As he did, his eyes were kept shielded by his prominent okipah hat, all but a glassy smile was covered by his clothing. Kiscawak suddenly revealed a blade from under his pelt. The officer immediately stopped and put a hand to his Mintorian-style.
"No need to get all troubled, kid. I'm just wanna ask you a few questions."
The other man, still mounted on his horse, also went for his rifle.
"Let's not play dumb. I know exactly what you want here." Kiscawak laughed.
The man's smile began to deepen like that of a fiery lynx, although his eyes could not prove his true feelings, determination or anger.
"My name's Lieutenant Kaskitew. This here is Lieutenant Wammyt. Drop the knife or I shoot, outlander."
"Outlander? You might want to pull that hat from over your eyes and see who you're talking to."
"You want to go see the hogs? You're already one of 'em to me. You want to get shot, kid?"
"I'm not leaving the Tusacaway, idiot. I'm trying to get back home. I'm on pawakan!"
"You crossed the frontier, boy. Don't try any of your little excuses. So put that cutter down or I'll arrange a meeting for you and the Manitou."
"I already met the Manitou, pwâsta, and he wants you to put that gun down."
"Aaaaaaaaah!" Lieutenant Wammyt screeched.
From beyond Kiscawak's sight, the other lieutenant appeared to be dragged off his horse from behind. The sound of a struggle ensued in the distance.
"What the..." Kaskitew began, turning to face Wammyt.
Kiscawak charged in abruptly with his newfound strength and plunged the cutter into the back of Kaskitew's neck.
"Gah!" Kaskitew yelled.
He immediately spun around and fired his rifle, although Kiscawak was fast to evade the gunfire. He proceeded to dive behind a small cliff. Kaskitew then began to fondle the blade-handle which was lodged deep into his neck. Although the numbness muted the pain, his smile was still wide and vicious.
"I'll get your fucking head, kid!" He screamed.
A gunshot then came from Wammyt's horse. The bullets fired right through Kaskitew's chest and let a spray of blood out the back of his body. He hollered again as he felt the bullets rip through him, but the anger had enveloped his entire being now. He stood up with the last of his constitution and shot towards the horse, causing the unknown vigilante who had thankfully intervened to scream and plummet from the saddle. Kaskitew descended to the ground, still smiling. Blood had stained his teeth and began to drip from his lips as he fell over and died. His hat rolled off across the summit.
Kiscawak reappeared from his hiding place and promptly went to go check on his hidden saviour. He crouched and crawled as the frost began to eat away at his limbs with relentless burning. As he approached the horse which had now died from the interceding in the gunshot, Kiscawak saw the face of someone familiar. Someone he now understood would be with him for the rest of his life. He smiled.
"Okinee, are you okay?'
'He... He just got the horse... I think." She said, shivering from the cold.
Kiscawak began to look over Okinee to see if there was any blood or wound. There was none that he could see.
"You... You came back, Okinee."
She began to weep.
"I love you, Kiscawak."
Kiscawak began to cry as well.
"You love me?"
"I love you. I always will love you. Where I come from or where you come from doesn't matter anymore. I don't care about any of it. All I care about is the future. All I care about is where we go together. I always want to be with you."
"I always want to be with you." Kiscawak repeated.
Kiscawak lifted Okinee from the ground and the pair kissed passionately, securing the parity of their fate. Both knowing the nature of their destinies, their mutual love reappeared to them like a gift.
"There's still one horse, do you think you take me to a hospital? My legs are frostbitten."
Okinee smiled.
"Let's get out of here quickly, Nîcimos."
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Atakamek — Places of worship for animists in the Tusacaway, wherein blessings and insight are given through the discernment of their native astrology Mitouyew — "Medicine man", the spiritual acolytes of animism Sky-woman — The wife of the Manitou, known for having been cast from the night sky Pwâsta — "Shit-for-brains!", a vulgar and offensive insult in Tusacaw Nîcimos — "My love", an endearing term in Tusacaw
I must bid you farewell, Kiscawak. Though you are still on a cumbersome and lifelong journey, your pawakan ends the moment you have been wholely enlightened. My commentaries... Well, they shall remain real in your mind and in their places at their times. As a man, it is a privilege to know the inner cunning of a familiar, and with all my purposes satisfied, I am now free to return to the place I belong. Familiars are gentle spirits, no matter how they are portrayed in your society. We are ghosts with vital purposes here on Eras. Sometimes they remain unconscious of their purpose and become angry, rogue familiars that inspire the worst of nightmares. Remember that the next time you meet one face-to-face. My next great scheme is to return on high, where I am indebted to belong, riding the pelican towards the stars where I may reunite with the Manitou by crossing the sea of darkness towards his holy constellation. Someday it will be you who will ride that fowl—A hero, deceased and delivered to the highest peaks of the Manitou's paradise where all the great Chieftains lay, gazing at celestial wonders and having adventures of their own. Yes, I do entreat myself by writing about such amazing things. I am eager to see them as well, and thankfully there is not a minute to spare, so I must be gone. Goodbye, Kiscawak, and please remember... Do not fear the night!
— • —
UNIVERSITY OF TAWAIC VALOUR HOSPITAL
Kiscawak's awareness resumed as his eyelids slowly reopened. His body was dry, cold, and fatigued. His throat felt congested. His eyesight was fuzzy.
"Water, Ayhay."
"Kiscawak?!" A voice rustled.
It was Okinee, she was present in the room, Kiscawak could see a little more clearly. The lamp in the room was dim and set to a low level, the window was dark and shining with the curse of night. A blizzard tore across his view, and whooshed against the window with great power. Okinee came to Kiscawak's side and began to lift him to a sitting position in his bed.
"Nîcimos, did you say you wanted some water?"
"Yeah." Kiscawak let out slowly.
"Here we are. Fresh from the spring."
Okinee let a cup of water up to Kiscawak's lips. As she tipped the vessel, water began to spill out. Kiscawak's throat was still very stiff however, and he immediately coughed the lot of it up. Okinee apologized profusely as Kiscawak's adrenaline surge caused him to snap out of his grogginess and sit up straight. He proceeded to snatch the water cup and drink it under his own control.
"How are we doing?" Okinee asked.
"I'm fine. Thanks for taking me to the hospital."
"You were out cold by the time you arrived, you seriously could've died. Your heartbeat was incredibly weak."
"And the frostbite?"
"The Onatawew has you on pain medicine and infection-fighting drugs, and the clinician told me that your frostbite will turn into a wound over the coming week and at that point they'll know how serious the wound is. But they are assuming for now that its mostly superficial."
"How long am I gonna have to stay here?"
"They haven't told me yet but frostbite patients are said to take about a month to recover."
Kiscawak sighed and let his head fall backwards. Okinee grabbed his hand and placed it along her cheek.
"And what's going on with the Okipah?"
Okinee quickly put a finger to her lips and began to whisper.
"The Okipah found the bodies on the shield rock, but most of them speculate it was a flight into Pascisaskic. It was in all the papers."
"What!" Kiscawak uttered.
"For now, Kiscawak, we have nothing to worry about."
"You're still at large, Okinee, and if those officers seriously managed to find us on the mountain, someone must've pointed them in that direction."
"I said for now, Kiscawak. And brighten up, your parents will be coming to see you tomorrow."
Kiscawak shuddered.
"Only a miracle could get us out of this mess."
— • —
UNIVERSITY OF TAWAIC VALOUR HOSPITAL
After another few hours of sleep, the morning eventually came to rise over the night. In the distance, a white sun began to rise over the horizon, filling the sky with a red radiance. The flurries trekked through the buildings of Tawaic like wind through the forest, drifting from one wall to another and enveloping the town in snow. The light then began to shine directly through the window. Since the University's hospital was built high on a hill, the sunlight was most visible from that point. It was intentional of course, a means of trying to allow patients to capture as much sunlight as possible whilst confined to their beds. It poked through the slats and shone upon Kiscawak's drowsy eyelids.
He groaned as he began to wake. This time, he felt slightly more refreshed. During the night, a clinician came to change his bandages, something he had not noticed until he rose. Additionally, he noticed his parents now present before him, both entranced in sleep. Kiscawak considered if they had met Okinee yet. Then, the clinician entered.
"Good morning everyone. Sorry to bother you all, I just wanted to tell you about Kiscawak's condition since all of your clan is here."
His parents began to waken, Nicamon—his father, and Naskota, his mother. She slowly groaned in her wakefulness and uttered, "Yes. Go ahead."
"Kiscawak here has frostbite on his legs, so obviously this was a bad year for his pawakan since the snow came so early in the Deep Wood. The extent of the injury won't be too clear until a week from now, but what we do know is that the frostbite is pretty minor, and our only real concern right now is infection. That being said, we may be looking at about three weeks here in the clinic and at least a month of recovery time at home. Pactaw Nicamon, Onatawew Paminam extends his most honourable congratulations regarding your son's pawakan."
"Thank you, Anisco. Please extend our gratitude to the onatawew."
"I certainly will. Are there any questions about Kiscawak's condition right now?"
Okinee suddenly spoke out, Kiscawak was not aware she had woken.
"How often do frostbites get infected?"
"The risk pretty much depends on the extent of the wound and the amount of care is put into cleaning it. In that regard we are putting the utmost of our care into cleaning and redressing Kiscawak's injury. Since he is also on anti-infection medication, the team expects to see Kiscawak recover without any complications."
"That's good." Okinee replied.
"Anyways. That's rounds for us. We'll be back in the evening for a check-up on the wound and we'll probably proceed likewise for the remainder of the week before we can discharge you. Sounds good?"
"Mhmm." Kiscawak muttered.
"I should also mention that your animal wounds have basically healed as well. We still want to check on them though. You were lucky not getting an infection. Alright, see you all later."
The clinician scurried from the room and drew the curtains behind her. As she did so, Kiscawak's father stood from his chair and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Well I simply cannot believe it. My son, truly a man."
"And in quite rough shape. You seem to have endured quite a lot, Kiscawak." Naskota chimed in.
"I really did." Kiscawak scoffed.
"We met with... Um... Yes, Okinee! We met her last night when we arrived. How nice of her to bring you here to rest after your adventure." Naskota said.
Okinee smiled before veering her anxious gaze towards Kiscawak.
"Yeah, well I'm glad you guys have met." Kiscawak replied.
"So tell us, Kiscawak. What have you seen? What did you learn?" Nicamon asked.
Kiscawak smiled and chuckled for a moment.
"It's interesting, I learned something pretty... Well... Intimate."
"Intimate?" Nicamon asked, "You are unable to tell us?"
"No, well... Basically, I've been given a special purpose."
"What is it, son?"
Kiscawak choked on his words.
"He is called to lead the Tusacaway." Okinee said.
"Lead? Really?" Nicamon inquired.
"In Chieftaincy, yes. But what he means by intimate is that he was inspired in a very personal way that is difficult to entirely... Express."
"Leadership with secret ambitions is concerning... I really think we are entitled to know..." Naskota began.
"Dearest, give the man some time. He's been entirely honest for goodness sake. First, I'd like to get to know you Okinee."
Okinee shot up in anxiety again, "Yes? Yes! Of course!"
"So Okinee, how did you meet Kiscawak?"
"Oh well, after your son was attacked by the cave bear..."
Nicamon exploded in surprise, "Cave bear!?"
"Yeah." Kiscawak muttered.
"Like the ten-akwac tall monsters that rip men in half like paper?"
"It was a mother, protecting her cubs."
"It's incredible luck you've had. The worst thing that happened to me was a bite from the plains centipede." Nicamon chuckled.
"Where did you say you were from, Okinee?" Naskota asked.
Okinee shot a glance at Kiscawak's mother. Kiscawak dropped his half-smile.
"I'm from... Further north."
"What were you doing in the Deep Wood, then?"
"Women have the option of not going on pawakan. It's a dangerous journey for some of us, especially further north where the plains go dry. Instead I decided to camp independently in the Deep Wood to gain that sense of enlightenment."
"I find it ridiculous that a woman would concede the opportunity of pawakan. But perhaps thats just because you are a product of wherever you came from... Which is?"
Okinee scoffed.
"I said, I'm from the north."
"What town are you from, Okinee?"
Suddenly, there came the sound of struggle from the outside. Conveniently cutting off Okinee from revealing herself. From without the hospital, marching noises cluttered against the sounds of shouting from other clinicians before they suddenly turned into Kiscawak's patient room. Like a thunderbolt, the drapes were flung open, with a group of five musketeers presenting themselves before the family. They were okipah, distinguished by their distinctive mîhawêstotin. Kiscawak clenched the bedsheets in worry. A constable began to speak.
"Kiscawak Pascaw, you have been called to be detained upon the following assertions: larceny, ritual deceit, obstruction of justice, perverse transit, harbouring an escapee, and murder of an agent of justice. Okinee Kiscokin, you have been called to be detained upon the following assertions: larceny, perverse transit, escape from lawful custody, and murder of an agent of justice."
Kiscawak's parents seemed shocked. Naskota quickly realized realized the truth regarding Okinee's origin and it seemed to have the biggest impression on her out of all charges.
"Well it seems we know why you have such bad judgement after all. You come from the very bowels of this country."
"Mother!" Kiscawak shouted.
"Oh Lord, Kiscawak. What have you done!?"
"Chieftain Pascaw, I understand how difficult this must be for you." The constable began, "We are willing to allow Kiscawak to recover here under surveillance before he approaches the Garrison Chief to be tried. We have done all we can to resist this arrest to be known."
Nicamon nodded.
"As for you, young crossbreed," The constable directed his gaze to Okinee, "You've been out of your comfort zone for far too long. Back to the factories with you!"
Two other lieutenants appeared from behind and went to apprehend Okinee. As this played out before him, Kiscawak jumped from his bed and attempted to intervene. Oblivious to his wounds, he hollered in pain as his legs collapsed and he brought the lieutenant to the floor. The constables rifles were immediately drawn. Nicamon and Naskota shrieked as this all unfolded before them.
"Stop! Stop this immediately!"
A woman's voice moved strongly about the room, halting the commotion.
"I am entering this room, move aside!"
As this was said, the several Okipah officers behind the constable moved out of the way and began to bow. As the constable removed his hat respectfully and stepped in the opposite direction, the figure of the woman speaking revealed herself. Dressed in the traditional fashion, she wore a great headdress which trailed along her mantle, dyed a purple-yellow-red pattern. Her dress was plain and beige, aside from purple sashes and embellishments at the shirt and at the neckline. She was the Great Mother of the Tusacaway, and she was accompanied by two of her radiant and mysterious chaperones. Kiscawak and the lieutenant quit wrestling immediately and fell to their knees upon seeing the Great Mother.
"Ah, so it seems we have fallen into quite the dispute this morning. Such a shame we cannot enjoy the rare winter sun since today's incident seems to have truly reached its peak in a matter of moments. That being said, I have come here on completely different precedent. I was interrupted in tranquil meditation by noble familiars and instructed to quickly go out and seek the family of the Chieftain. I was tasked to intercede in their troubles as soon as possible as to secure some kind of future contingency. I have heard many things about you Kiscawak, I have meditated on you specifically ever since I watched you leave the gates of Tawaic among that group of young men. Your pawakan has been unusual, odd, and bloody. I am certain in saying that it was bloody. But the blood of the lieutenant which you drew was done in defence, and the assumptions that I feel at ease sharing with the public are infallible. You have been placed in a most precarious situation, my son. And for that reason, I have decided to officially relinquish all charges against you and your companion. Kiscawak and Okinee, you have been honourably pardoned under spiritual and legal convention, a commodity of the Great Mother's private power executed personally and in the presence of justice. The two of you are free."
The Great Mother suddenly walked beyond Kiscawak and his opponent, taking Okinee by the hands.
"You are the woman I have seen in my dreams, Okinee. The clanless, nameless soul who holds the spirit of the Tusacaway. Make no mistake, I am aware of the moral void which plagued your ancestors, but you have distinguished yourself from that place. You are the glorious and mysterious truth that has risen from the Northwest, like a star rises above the horizon. Your generation shall be an extension of everything that defines you, I have seen this for myself. And you will know a time, Okinee, where your people shall be truly free. I think you understand that all which I am telling you is factual."
"Yes, Great Mother." Okinee spoke.
"I believe you met one of my many ancestral matrons as you accompanied Kiscawak along his Pawakan... Indeed a very special one."
"Yes."
"Then you know exactly what it is I am about to do. Another commodity of my private power is the right to appoint a daughter, a woman who shall oversee and nurture her land in the successive motherhood of the confederacy. Yes, I have that power. And though I may chose to naturally bear a woman-child to succeed and inherit the responsibility to nurse the land, I may also chose to adopt she who shall inherit the land. It is under this notion that I adopt you, Okinee Kiscokin. You are by the lips of the highest power in the world, daughter to the Tusacaway, and daughter to the Great Mother. Your clan has been relinquished in joining the most high of families, and your name shall be chiseled independently into the rocks, as your contentious past is severed and adjoins in the bonds of motherhood. You are Okinee. Solely Okinee. Great Daughter of the Tusacaway. Take my hand, daughter, and I will lead you to our stronghold."
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Ayhay — "Thanks", an informal expression of gratitude Nîcimos — Literally, "of whom I love", an endearing term Onatawew — The title for physicians in the Tusacaway which translate to "medicine man" Clinicians — Registered Nurses in the Tusacaway are known as clinicians Pascisaskic — "Land of the Gun", Mintoria Akwac — Unit of length used in the Tusacaway measuring in at just over half a metre Mîhawêstotin — The circular caps worn by Okipah and municipal law enforcement, banded with multicolour strings or a woven kerchief
There were long coiling banners around pillars of cedar framed in stone and glass. Brown fur carpets trailed on and on as far as the eye could see. There was a pervasive odour, it was somewhat like pine but with an extra note of something artificial, something sweet. Okinee sat at the long glossy table which was spread out before her like a valley before a hill, she could imagine tiny armies charging at each other from each side. When she looked up, she found herself gazing at a chandelier made from the antlers of moose, which each held actual candles to be lit when the occasion came.
“How are you enjoying home, so far, daughter?” A voice called out from behind.
Okinee turned and smiled as she saw the Great Mother, standing like a radiant madonna before the door, accompanied by several chaperones.
“You ask me that a lot.” Okinee replied, smiling.
“I just wish that you be comfortable here. I understand this place is quite different from your homeland. I want to be firm in knowing that this is not too sudden a change for you.”
“To be honest… It is a sudden change, but I can't deny that I love it here.”
“Listen to the whispers within your soul, they may be obfuscated by the bellowing howls of the mind…”
“Yeah… I guess so.” Okinee remarked.
“So... I've come to talk to you about something. I understand you have had no education insofar, Okinee?” The Great Mother asked.
Okinee awkwardly flashed her eyes before answering in a dull “No”.
“Do not feel ashamed, it is only a circumstance of your upbringing. Of course, it seems we have quite a rift in our means of expressing ourselves and in our particular... Well..." She paused, "I am pleased to say you are very much an earth-child, deeply rooted in the land as all young girls your age should be…"
Okinee began to stare again.
“Of course, if you are to be Great Mother someday, my darling… It is necessary that you receive the finest education in both a mental sense and in the spiritual sense.”
“So you want me to go to Religious Seminary?” Okinee interjected.
“Aha… No, I will have the Religious Seminary come to you!”
Okinee half-heartedly smiled. She really did not feel as though it was her place to complain; after all, she felt indebted to Kimisweyn, her saviour. The Great Mother analyzed this, and felt as though she needed to intercede to encourage her more.
“Okinee… Don’t let any of this separate you from who you really are... Do you know about the Sayicscik?”
Her tone had changed dramatically just for moment, it almost felt like Okinee was speaking to herself.
“They’re a new trade partner, right? A foreign nation somewhere off.” Okinee replied.
“They also have a great family of sorts in their nation… But they do all that they can to preserve this deluded image… To propagate some kind of false sense of morality or propriety… It sows discord of the highest power... Living purely to lie to themselves. This is not what we are here to do, daughter. We are here to be the best examples for our people and live among them as models for an honest life, for real love, and for utmost devotion. And if the time comes, we will die alongside them, because we love this confederacy. These are the sorts of things you will learn in Religious Seminary.”
Some aides walked by with potted cedars, wafting the smell of the forest into the room.
“I guess that’s pretty important.” Okinee said.
“It is vital to the principles of our nation. Understand that without a Great Family to inspire, a confederacy is destined to be lost. Nay, not even a Great Family... Purely something Great.”
Okinee nodded.
“Anyways, for supper the staff shall make us a great turkey, and in honour of our new outlander partnerships, I’ve sent Nakota to find us some authentic Sentonskic biscuits!”
“Those things are addictive.” Okinee chuckled.
Kimisweyn smiled once again before proceeding down the hallway, accompanied by her beaming Chaperones who each nodded their head at Okinee before disappearing round the corner.
— • —
THE RESIDENCE OF CHIEFTAIN NICAMON PASCAW
“How is mother?” Kiscawak asked his father.
Kiscawak stood at the egress of the window which hosted a variety of ornamental rock sculptures he placed his hands behind him and relaxed upon the sill only to find that it was freezing to the touch. Cold air was trickling in through the windows of the Pascaw residence. Even the heating in the house was insufficient to quell the freezing, arctic winds billowing inside the house from outside. Nicamon was standing over the kitchen, cooking over the shiny new stove. It was a recent purchase in the Pascaw household and its improved efficiency went undoubted.
“Your mother is tired, as am I. The winter months have been quite indifferent to our comfort these days.” Nicamon replied, covering himself in a bison-fur.
“The harbour's been getting noisier and noisier lately. I’m starting to see all these crazy new things going on. I'm seriously really glad you’ve pushed these changes through, father.”
“Do not act so sure of yourself, son, it is irritating. This is only the beginning of a long trail of problems which we statesmen will have to improve as we go. Not to mention the recurring opposition...”
“They’ll see…” Kiscawak muttered.
Nicamon sat down at the cedar table and proceeded to eat his bowl of oats which he had prepared by coating coated in cinnamon and apple.
“I will agree that the food we have been receiving has been spectacular, though. I am truly considering growing some of these apples in our own backyard. I cannot suffice in their taste.”
“I've been seeing all the new fancy cars in the streets. It’s kind of nice to see the town so busy all the time.”
"We must account for the noise, however."
"We were good about it in Antofagosta, we'll be fine, I think."
A door opened from outside the kitchen. Nicamon and Kiscawak both turned their heads see Maskota standing in the frame with a letter.
“Maskota, how are you?” Nicamon asked.
“I am… I am ready to talk to Kiscawak about our agreement.” Maskota replied.
Kiscawak frowned and turned to his father, “Agreement?”
“Maskota, I told you that this conversation would be better suited—”
“Nonsense, I am the head of the family, I am going to make an individual judgement here.” Maskota replied.
Nicamon rolled his eyes and continued at his oats.
“Kiscawak… I think for the summer and autumn we are going to let you go out on your own for a while.”
“Yes…?” Kiscawak replied.
“We want you to go to Ceekascotin and stay with your uncle.”
Kiscawak laughed, “So you’re kicking me out?”
“Son!” Nicamon hollered.
Kiscawak jumped in his place. His smile vanished from his face and his gaze became meek.
“It is understood that the family is meant to stay together and endure no matter what… But we both agreed that you needed a change in scenery… A change in… Environment.”
“Uh-huh.” Kiscawak affirmed.
“Well, that is just about all that it entails… You will stay with your uncle and your aunt, watch over their children, perhaps find a job and make some money before you come home.”
Kiscawak scratched his head.
“And Okin—”
“Okinee has the responsibilities of a Great Daughter now, and might not have the opportunity to see you over the entirety of your stay.”
“Of course… Of course…” Kiscawak scoffed.
Nicamon rose from his seat.
“You are not being very grateful, son. I expected you to be thrilled to have such freedom… Not all young men get the luxury to move away from their parents.”
Kiscawak was silent. He didn’t wish to agitate the situation any further and to a partial degree, he agreed with his father. Although he knew he would not thrilled to be so distant from Okinee. He would literally be on the other side of the country.
“Alright.” He muttered.
“Good. This is good. I suggest after dinner you go tell your… ‘Okinee’… about your—”
“I will.” Kiscawak interrupted.
Like a bullfrog, Kiscawak jumped from his place before the kitchen and hopped through the door, just aching for an opportunity to be away from his mother. He began to walk down the street, passing by the iron-clad vehicles which rumbled and whirled across the slippery road.
"Some mother I have." He whispered.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Sayiscik — "Syrixia" in romanized Tusacaw Sentonskic — "Saintonge" in romanized Tusacaw
It had been a long time since Kiscawak had left Tawaic. In a way, it was sort of therapeutic. New-fangled cars and jets spewed a great deal of smoke into the air, trash began to settle along the street corners, infrastructure works and innovation brought forth thunderous construction. Even outside his waterfront home of the town's interior, there was much ado about renovating the homes and the roadways. And in the crossway between the vast, endless prairie and the lush forest, there was little nature anymore to behold. The boat engines rumbled. Tall cedars and pines rushed on by so quickly, they began to blend together into a green haze. The Black Tawaic River was a familiar place for Kiscawak. For the most part, he had followed the river upstream on his journey towards the Shield Rock. There were small glades, islands, and boulders which obfuscated it, although on the boat ride there was not much to see from his previous experiences.
Warm mist began to emerge from over the bow and brushed against his cheeks as Kiscawak slumbered, his thoughts mostly fixed upon what he would do once he reached Ceekascotin. His mother, the hardliner she was, could not manage to accept his loyalties. His father, the innovator he was, could not manage to accept his sins... Yes, the murdered faces of those three old forest-men could sometimes be seen in the ripples of the water. And in the beacon of palatial glory which was the grey cap of the Shield Rock, the face of a frontiersman and his lover could be found as well.
Though in his dreams, Kiscawak was mostly at peace. Perhaps he could even come to admire this vacation, far away from his bustling metropolis and into the viridescent outback which had been curated for thousands of years by the bountiful river. Ceekascotin was indeed the great resort of the Tusacaway, a rich valley which flowed between the Shield Rock and the Gatekeeper. It was a dream-world to those who had never seen it, and a crossway between the Tusacaway and the outerlander world. From the gatekeeper, one could see the Pascisaskic country.
"Excuse me..." A voice sounded.
Kiscawak was tired from his night of restless preparation, he failed to respond.
"Excuse me, Pactaw."
"Huh?" Kiscawak muttered, lifting an eye open.
"Your head is on my shoulder."
Kiscawak jolted from his incrimination and straightened himself upwards, peeling his eyes open to look at the spirit he had been using as a pillow.
"Yes, thank you... That was getting kind of weird there for a second."
"I'm so embarrassed..." Kiscawak scoffed, "Mihciyawêsiw. I was just so tired."
"No worries. I understand." The man laughed, "I'm a clinician, but I work at two infirmaries, so I'm always going between Nytamatin and Ceekascotin by boat. This isn't the first time it's happened."
Kiscawak chuckled.
"That's interesting. Why do you switch?" He asked.
"Oh... Well Ceekascotin has a higher population than Nytamatin, so I'm the blood runner! I transport it back to Nytamatin where we can sometimes have shortages. Hopefully when the train is finished that duty will be obsolete and I can go back to general practice."
"Well that's so cool. I never really thought about how blood gets transported."
"What about you? What are you up to in Ceekascotin?" The man asked.
"Me? Oh, I'm just... Seeing family."
"Oh that's real sweet. When I go to Ceekascotin I visit the Gatekeeper observatory at least once. You can see everything from up there!"
Kiscawak smiled.
"I've been to the top of the shield rock, so maybe I'll have to find something different."
"The top of the shield rock!" The man exclaimed, "Why that's crazy! I've never heard of anyone doing that... Especially someone your age. I'm surprised you weren't stopped. What was the occasion?"
"... Pawakan." Kiscawak uttered.
"Ahh, I see. When I went out—on pawakan—I spent seventy days surrounded by hungry coyotes in the middle of a bog. I sat down on a filthy tree-stump and prayed everyday that I could somehow make my escape. I was forced to face off against individual coyotes for their meat, and I would drink nothing but water from the flat."
Kiscawak nodded in great surprise. For a moment he considered if the kind of an experience his new friend had undertaken was even more insufferable than his.
"What's your name, by the way?" Kiscawak asked.
"Pakan... Pakan Kysic."
That was an odd name.
"Bizarre?"
"Some people say my name is 'bizarre'. I like to think my name means 'exotic' or something like that."
"I'm pretty sure your name means 'bizarre', nistis."
Pakan frowned.
"And so what, 'star-blanket'? What makes you so special?"
"I'm just kidding." Kiscawak chuckled.
"Well, I was gonna offer to buy you a joint once we got to Ceekascotin, but now I don't think you deserve it."
"Do you want me to lay down on your shoulder again?"
Pakan frowned again.
"You belong with the fish, swim!"
Pakan proceeded to push Kiscawak to the side of the hull, nearly knocking him over the ledge of the motorboat.
The expressive valley-township of Ceekascotin was the great foot of the land, with residential blocks of red, yellow, and blue surrounding the ancient interior—whose monolithic walls were painted in the Yowah, the Elder Tusacaw, and with stories of a past long-forgotten now. It was at the very head of the Tawaic rivers, with falls of fresh mountain water splashing across mineralized ravines right into the stream. Kiscawak was pleased by the new environment, although he seemed less enthused at the prospect of being mostly alone, despite having made one friend—Pakan—who had gotten straight into the habit of calling him Kinosêw—'fish'.
"This is not like Menykawn." Kiscawak mentioned.
"So you've never been?" Pakan asked.
"I've never been so far," Kiscawak began, "I've been to Sipyk... That's about as far as I've gone with the exception of my pathfinding."
"Ceekascotin is like a forgotten jewel," Pakan replied, "You'll find the people are pretty much the same though. Most are physiocrats, with a sizeable minority of kids like you."
Kiscawak shot a glance at Pakan.
"Kids like me?" He pursued.
"Well... Those who have space within their families."
"Nakacikêniya! You don't know anything about that!" Pakan uttered.
"You're 'visiting family', in Ayênanewpîs, at the end of your Pawakan..."
Kiscawak crossed his arms.
"Don't feel ashamed, Fish!" Pakan laughed, "Everyone goes through the same thing."
"Really?" Kiscawak asked.
"Of course. At least for anyone who legitimately cares about their purpose. Your mother may have accepted your pawakan, but I can guess she is troubled by what she's learned."
"Why didn't I know about this?" Kiscawak exclaimed.
"It's not really something to know, it's just natural... I guess." Pakan replied.
By the end of their conversation, the riverboat had docked at the port near the centre of town. The pair disembarked swiftly, taking in the majesty of the town. As it was nearly the evening, the sun had began to flush the air with cool, orange light which seemed to bring out the smells of the summer. The flowers were much more fragrant out in the deeper country, with sweetgrass brushing against the wind. In the distance, one could see a railway being constructed among the dense bush.
"So, how about that joint?" Kiscawak asked.
"Sorry Fish. It's a little bit late, and I have to get this cooler to the clinic. Tomorrow though, okay? Noon at the pothouse in town."
"Noon at the pothouse in town... Got it." Kiscawak nodded.
"See you then, Fish!" Pakan chuckled.
— • —
THE RESIDENCE OF NICAMON NAPACASSET
Kiscawak had spent the rest of the evening asking around for directions. It was quite embarrassing for him to need guidance to the residence of his own uncle, but without guidance he would be sleeping on the ground for the night and that was a prospect he despised. Additionally, it seemed most in the town were aware of his uncle. He had a 'reputation' so to speak. Uttering his name brought awkward chuckles or poignant staring.
"Ugh, I hope he's not some weirdo." Kiscawak whispered, dropping his items before his new quarters.
The house was in the old style, definitely built before the crisis. It was on the fringe of Ceekascotin, in fact, it seemed to be the furthest house from the centre of town. The lights inside were not electric, oil lamps provided a glimmering and shallow light across the walls. Kiscawak knocked at the door.
In truth, Kiscawak had not seen his uncle since his birth. There was some family scandal which was not discussed sufficiently for Kiscawak to know anything about. Although Kiscawak had gotten the sense it was in the interest of preserving his father's political career, as indicated by his father's reluctance to provide information about his family to anyone but his spouse.
"Hello?" A voice spoke through.
"Hi... Um... It's... It's Kiscawak."
There was a silence. Then the door began to rattle as whoever stood behind it passionately ripped away at the locks. The door was thrown wide open, and revealed a tall, stocky man dressed from head to toe in a pastoral kind of clothing. Denim pants, a thin white undershirt, and a great white khaki sun hat that shielded his eyes from absolutely nothing.
"My boy!"
He stuck out his arms and began to embrace the boy tightly, lifting him off the ground. Kiscawak could do nothing but grunt in discomfort.
"My boy... Tânisi! I had no clue you were gonna get here so early! Your dad wrote me a brief memo about what was going on, but heck! You're standing here right in front of me and I could care less what he thinks!"
Kiscawak smiled awkwardly, "Yeah... Um... How should I...?"
"Oh yes!" The man smiled, removing his massive hat from his head.
He was bald! Kiscawak could do nothing but stare at the emptiness on his head as he spoke. Although, as he beheld him more, Kiscawak could begin to see more and more that there was a problem here. That problem was that his uncle and his father certainly shared very different lifestyles.
"Uncle Mon is how you can call me! I don't want you calling me Nicamon since that's just gonna remind you of your dad... Although we do have the same name, yup... Well you might as well come on in and meet my partner. We'll all be living together for a while so you should get comfortable in here."
Uncle Mon's house was a treasure trove of niche relics and monuments to nostalgia. There were no modern appliances, without all the decorations there may be a sink, a toilet, a table and chairs, and an icebox. But the emptiness was supplanted by photos and posters of the highest pop culture value. Music groups and bands plastered the walls in posters and postcards. There were photos of every chieftain, every great warrior, every historical figure. There were album records clung to the trimming with tacks and duct tape. Miniature paintings from local dealers were lined all across the living room with little electronic lights—some working, some not—casting a mild glow up at the works. The carpets on the floor were woven so well, but without all the familiar simplistic lines or regard for tradition. The colours made the rooms pop, with bright colours and irregular patterns merging together like the buds of a flower.
And in the living room, Kiscawak first set his eyes upon a woman who seemed to be his Uncle's partner.
"Tânisi, Kiscawak." She smiled brightly.
"Tânisi." Kiscawak returned.
"Kiscawak, this is my partner, Kannek... I guess you should call her Auntie Kannek..."
"Or... Auntie Mon." Kiscawak smiled.
The two of them laughed. Uncle Mon then began to lean over the wall in the living room.
"Well we're so glad to finally be having you, Kiscawak. In all honesty I wish I could say I've heard a lot about you... But I don't." Auntie Mon said.
"There'll be time to learn I guess." Kiscawak remarked.
"Yes there will be! Although your dad did say you were going to be looking for a job around here. Obviously we're not going to charge you to live here... But you'll need a wêyo or two around here to get lunch or see a show obviously."
"Ah, well there's a new foreign auto concession in town. They're probably going to be looking for hands as their cars get swept out off the rack." Uncle Mon said.
"Sounds like something to do." Kiscawak noted.
Kiscawak would need money if he was to get around, although he had now developed a profound interest in the lives of his aunt and uncle. They seemed more like him in a way, and the sorts of lives they lived had yet to be understood—although Kiscawak got the feeling this would be a worthwhile place to spend his summer.
— • —
FOOTNOTES FROM THE TEXT
Nakacikêniya — "Get lost!" or "Enough!" Ayênanewpîs — The month of August Tânisi — General greeting in Tusacaw
