Post by Jenny on Aug 12, 2013 3:16:52 GMT -5
The pack animals pulling the wagons were desert hardy, and their curious looking feet were wide and perfect for movement over the sand so they did not easily sink, even under the weight of the yoke. The tribe went on, until Moraji, having caught up to the caravan, called for a halt. They ate and drank, made sure the animals were watered, and moved on. Night turned into day and then night again. One more revolution followed. The sun rising in the east cast a warm glow onto the maw of the canyons, only a few miles away now, but clearly seen like a wound in the earth.
The wagons had to be abandoned when they reached the canyon at last. They unharnessed the beasts and packed them just to the right weight and no more, and placed the rest on their backs or as bundles in their arms. The trail down was wide enough for the animals to pass through and they slowly wound their way down the canyon wall. Again, the Yitoki paused for a long rest, awaiting the coming of the shaman.
The elders, and Yiska, gathered to greet him as the old man walked, favoring his staff, along the canyon floor. He was timeless, and wizened but still spry for his age. The spiritual energy within him kept his body going. His eyes were beginning to fail but the spirits could see well enough for him. His keen nose certainly helped too. He sat down on a large sandstone boulder as the elders approached him.
“Moraji,” the shaman bowed his head slightly in respect, then to each elder in return. His rheumy eyes fell on Yiska and he smiled his somewhat toothless grin. Yiska remembered about his mother’s soft bread and he would later give the shaman that small request gladly.
The shaman beckoned Yiska to move forward and stand before him as he continued to sit. He looked Yiska up and down, touched a temple, appeared to sniff a little, and then gave an appreciative grin, so endearing on one so old. Yiska regarded him fondly, his body pose giving indication that this was a common procedure of a pupil being examined by his teacher.
“You have been practicing, boy. I can feel the energy around you and it is strong. The spirits now walk with you, most encouraging.”
“Thank you, master.” Yiska bowed his head, not allowing how pleased he was show on his face. He would have gotten a knock on the head with the staff if he became smug. “I have felt it important to pray very much lately.”
“Yes, I have felt sinister presences in the desert. They are not close, but they draw closer every day.” He turned his eyes on Moraji. “The tribe has done well to come for protection. Tell me, elder, what exactly are we dealing with?”
Moraji told him everything they knew, not leaving anything out nor sugar coating it. The shaman ran a hand over his beard and nodded a little from time to time. When Moraji was finished speaking, the shaman had his eyes closed, his forehead against his staff. But Yiska knew he was not sleeping, only deep in thought. He stirred at last, reaching among his belt which held talismans, ground powders of sacred herbs, and such, and took out a pinch of desert sage. He placed it in the palm of his hand and added a few other things, shook it up a bit and threw it up in the wind. He watched it twist and turn in the air before whisking away into the canyon.
“Not much time, not much time at all. I am glad we have one of those go-lems protecting the heart, for there are metal beasties crawling through the dunes. See, he protects us now.”
They couldn’t very well see, but they understood figuratively. “If you have waited to move our people any later, I fear there may have been deaths.”
The shaman blinked a little, rousing himself. “No time to lose. Be on your way. I will come up presently.” He shooed them away. “Yiska, stay with me.”
“Yes, shaman.” Moraji did not hesitate to move the tribe after their rest, and on they went up the other side of the canyon, to the dunes beyond. When the elders had approved the proper location, they began to reassemble their homes. It would not take long to raise the tents, but it would take longer to suit their homes to their accustomed taste.
A communal meal was prepared as cooking fires were lit. The tribe would eat well that night, for they had rationed their food and water carefully along the long journey. Water was drawn from a well, ancient but still working and clearly marked.
Yiska stayed with the shaman as the night wore on, and Tahki had left a meal for them before the tribe went on. The shaman finally had his soft bread and ate it quite happily.
A time later, Yiska and the shaman were down to business. They were making preparations for a grand commune between them and the spirits, with the blessing of the ancient ancestors that dwelled in the heart. The shaman and his apprentice stripped to their loincloths within the sacred circle, their bodies being lit by the glow of firelight. With the addition of special herbs to the fire, and the burning of incense to attract the spirits, they went into a trance. In their vision they knew each other’s presence, and then beyond, as their own spirits left their bodies.
They joined the great dance in that sacred place. Gods, spirits, and the shaman ancestors moved together as one, radiating out and gaining awareness of all that is. The spirit that was Yiska hovered at the edge for a time, but the old shaman growled and he snapped out of it. He had been thinking of Sinjun, but the shaman had warned him to stay focused.
They could see the life around them in spirit essence, the warm glow of the Yitoki, the beasts of the desert, and every animal around them. They asked the spirits to bless the Yitoki tribe and the land they would now call their home. The spirits swirled playfully about the canyon, and did as they were asked, a warm glow etching itself along the canyon walls, seen only by spirit eyes. Yiska danced with them, sung with them, and moved with them.
But shaman bodies can only take so much. Eventually their spirits had to return to their bodies, the animal and god spirits lingering for a few moments before Yiska and the shaman left the trance completely. Both were covered in sweat, their hearts beating strongly in their chests, their emotions now calm. They thanked the spirits for coming to them.
Now they needed rest, and they ate the last of the food slowly and carefully. As the fire guttered out, they dressed, now ready to rejoin the Yitoki. They made their way up the canyon slowly, their bodies completely wiped out by their efforts. But their bodies felt good all the same.
The wagons had to be abandoned when they reached the canyon at last. They unharnessed the beasts and packed them just to the right weight and no more, and placed the rest on their backs or as bundles in their arms. The trail down was wide enough for the animals to pass through and they slowly wound their way down the canyon wall. Again, the Yitoki paused for a long rest, awaiting the coming of the shaman.
The elders, and Yiska, gathered to greet him as the old man walked, favoring his staff, along the canyon floor. He was timeless, and wizened but still spry for his age. The spiritual energy within him kept his body going. His eyes were beginning to fail but the spirits could see well enough for him. His keen nose certainly helped too. He sat down on a large sandstone boulder as the elders approached him.
“Moraji,” the shaman bowed his head slightly in respect, then to each elder in return. His rheumy eyes fell on Yiska and he smiled his somewhat toothless grin. Yiska remembered about his mother’s soft bread and he would later give the shaman that small request gladly.
The shaman beckoned Yiska to move forward and stand before him as he continued to sit. He looked Yiska up and down, touched a temple, appeared to sniff a little, and then gave an appreciative grin, so endearing on one so old. Yiska regarded him fondly, his body pose giving indication that this was a common procedure of a pupil being examined by his teacher.
“You have been practicing, boy. I can feel the energy around you and it is strong. The spirits now walk with you, most encouraging.”
“Thank you, master.” Yiska bowed his head, not allowing how pleased he was show on his face. He would have gotten a knock on the head with the staff if he became smug. “I have felt it important to pray very much lately.”
“Yes, I have felt sinister presences in the desert. They are not close, but they draw closer every day.” He turned his eyes on Moraji. “The tribe has done well to come for protection. Tell me, elder, what exactly are we dealing with?”
Moraji told him everything they knew, not leaving anything out nor sugar coating it. The shaman ran a hand over his beard and nodded a little from time to time. When Moraji was finished speaking, the shaman had his eyes closed, his forehead against his staff. But Yiska knew he was not sleeping, only deep in thought. He stirred at last, reaching among his belt which held talismans, ground powders of sacred herbs, and such, and took out a pinch of desert sage. He placed it in the palm of his hand and added a few other things, shook it up a bit and threw it up in the wind. He watched it twist and turn in the air before whisking away into the canyon.
“Not much time, not much time at all. I am glad we have one of those go-lems protecting the heart, for there are metal beasties crawling through the dunes. See, he protects us now.”
They couldn’t very well see, but they understood figuratively. “If you have waited to move our people any later, I fear there may have been deaths.”
The shaman blinked a little, rousing himself. “No time to lose. Be on your way. I will come up presently.” He shooed them away. “Yiska, stay with me.”
“Yes, shaman.” Moraji did not hesitate to move the tribe after their rest, and on they went up the other side of the canyon, to the dunes beyond. When the elders had approved the proper location, they began to reassemble their homes. It would not take long to raise the tents, but it would take longer to suit their homes to their accustomed taste.
A communal meal was prepared as cooking fires were lit. The tribe would eat well that night, for they had rationed their food and water carefully along the long journey. Water was drawn from a well, ancient but still working and clearly marked.
Yiska stayed with the shaman as the night wore on, and Tahki had left a meal for them before the tribe went on. The shaman finally had his soft bread and ate it quite happily.
A time later, Yiska and the shaman were down to business. They were making preparations for a grand commune between them and the spirits, with the blessing of the ancient ancestors that dwelled in the heart. The shaman and his apprentice stripped to their loincloths within the sacred circle, their bodies being lit by the glow of firelight. With the addition of special herbs to the fire, and the burning of incense to attract the spirits, they went into a trance. In their vision they knew each other’s presence, and then beyond, as their own spirits left their bodies.
They joined the great dance in that sacred place. Gods, spirits, and the shaman ancestors moved together as one, radiating out and gaining awareness of all that is. The spirit that was Yiska hovered at the edge for a time, but the old shaman growled and he snapped out of it. He had been thinking of Sinjun, but the shaman had warned him to stay focused.
They could see the life around them in spirit essence, the warm glow of the Yitoki, the beasts of the desert, and every animal around them. They asked the spirits to bless the Yitoki tribe and the land they would now call their home. The spirits swirled playfully about the canyon, and did as they were asked, a warm glow etching itself along the canyon walls, seen only by spirit eyes. Yiska danced with them, sung with them, and moved with them.
But shaman bodies can only take so much. Eventually their spirits had to return to their bodies, the animal and god spirits lingering for a few moments before Yiska and the shaman left the trance completely. Both were covered in sweat, their hearts beating strongly in their chests, their emotions now calm. They thanked the spirits for coming to them.
Now they needed rest, and they ate the last of the food slowly and carefully. As the fire guttered out, they dressed, now ready to rejoin the Yitoki. They made their way up the canyon slowly, their bodies completely wiped out by their efforts. But their bodies felt good all the same.