Post by Mayetoro on Jan 2, 2011 17:23:45 GMT -5
Srin'yei spun wildly, the fire wrapping about him as if in some lover's caress, sparks and cinders forcing others nearby to shy away as they danced in time to the deep, rocking drums. The moon and the fire mixed in the darkness and shadows, creating a thousand other people around the small tribe, as if each of the trolls was partnered with weaving, sinuous spirits that had come to celebrate with them.
"I am earth! I am fire!", Srin cried to the stars, crazy with happiness, drunk on his first night of manhood, covered in sweat and very little else. The young women and girls watched his powerful frame gyrate and twist so close to the fire it seemed it would consume him. Sitting in the shadows with several of the older men, Jurtsrik laughed softly and muttered to the flames around his new apprentice, protecting his spirit and strength. Another day, he would dampen this one's bright needs, but not tonight. Tonight the old shaman let the next generation drown in the heady power of the elements he would someday control.
Srin scooped up Huryie'ke in his arms, drawing a squeal from the pretty young girl, "Come, hunter! Dance with me! It is too early to be tired and sitting! I want to fly around the fire until the ground melts under my feet!"
The young woman laughed as his powerful arms whirled her about, enjoying his attention and knowing it for what it was, "Careful, little lizard. I will stick you with something and let out some of that hot air."
At the sound of his childhood nickname, Srin growled playfully, baring his teeth, then swaying his head back and forth to brandish his tusks, "No lizard now! I am a dragon!" His battle cry transformed suddenly into a screech of indignation as water cascaded over his head and shoulders from behind him, Huryie slipped from his grasp just in time to avoid getting wet. "Aiiiiiiiiiiii!"
Yieryama settled the wooden bucket against her leg, the other hand on her hip, smiling at the young buck with all the confident ease only a mother can have, "And I am the dragon's mother and if he doesn't cool off and behave, I will drag him by his ear into our tent and put him to bed."
As the camp degenerated into laughter and good humored teasing, Mother Ujemb turned slowly back to look out into the dark trees from the border of light and darkness at the edge of the village. She leaned on her stick and lifted her face, taking a long breath of the air…and her eyes narrowed as she finally found what she had been looking for. Like one of the dancing shadows the fire cast outward from the center of the village, she disappeared into the undergrowth, so silent it seemed as if she were one of the dark cats that haunted the edges of the hills.
Maye could just barely hear the shouts and music from the village. The firelight spoke of warmth, happiness, and safety. Every now and then she could hear Srin's voice for a moment, deep and singular in her ear. She gathered her legs to her body, wrapping her arms about them as she pressed back into the tree whose roots cradled her long, slim form. The tears had dried on her cheeks, now. She had nothing left to cry out. It was as if the world had rendered her empty and then taken away her skin. Over in the village was what she had been. Out here was what she was supposed to be.
But she could not find it.
Something tickled the nape of her neck, and her thoughts were suddenly sharp and cold. She had been looking so hard for so long, today, she felt as if every blade of grass was speaking to her, as if the very forest itself would suddenly take her and spread her out in the night, never to be a person again. The movement was behind her, easy and soft, and for an instant she knew terror in the feel of it, but it changed like the Yuomikyuo gremlins of the Mother's stories, and was suddenly familiar.
Maye looked up and was once more staring into the soft, sparkling eyes of her grandmother.
For a long time, she could say nothing. The world clear and open and threatening to take her from her body. Then the old woman reached out and gathered her young one to her. The forest disappeared, leaving Maye sobbing into the warmth of familiar robes.
"I have failed, Mother. I have failed." Tears blurred Maye's vision as she curled into her grandmother's ancient arms. The memories of the day broke apart in her as all her plans and expectations dissolved.
Ujemb stroked the young girl's long, bright hair with stiff, slow fingers. "Shhhhh. You have not failed. I told you that you would not, and I know you didn't."
Maye lifted her face reluctantly, looking into the Mother's eyes. She could not remember a moment when her grandmother had not been there for her. Could not remember being apart from her. Once again she saw the world around her reflected in the old woman's eyes, every star and shadow kept there in miniature.
Ujembe reached out and took her granddaughter's face in her hands, her voice soft, "It is all right, little flower. You are fine. Will you come with me into the village? The others are all returned." She touched her forehead very softly to the young troll's for a moment.
A strange calm settled about Maye's feelings. All the doubts and fears that had kept her out in the forest transformed into wisps of nothing from some other place. Once more, the forest filled her senses, but her grandmother's hands, so warm and dry and gentle, took away any fear she had of disappearing into the green emptiness.
Smiling, Ujemb took Maye's hand and stood, drawing her from the ground. It seemed as if the leaves parted around them, seemed that the grass held them up as the jungle watched them pass with a thousand eyes and ears and other senses unnamed. Maye did not even notice any time before she was standing at the edge of the firelight, her grandmother's hand warm in hers.
Maye looked into the village and blinked to try and clear the tears from her eyes, but everything seemed out of focus. Her people moved in the light, laughing, smiling, touching. She watched them and their happiness filled her. The brightness of their lives joined with the forest that had invaded her being during the day and the emptiness that had threatened to consume her slipped away. Her grandmother leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Go…go and be with them."
The young woman let go of her grandmother's hand and walked into the firelight. She waited for them to see her, looking downward. She ran her fingers through her long hair, trying to brush twigs and leaves from the tresses. She looked down over herself and was suddenly aware of the splotches of mud and bits of moss which she had all over her from the day. She could imagine what she looked like. Tall and slim and filthy, barely showing the roundness of woman which all her friends had long ago grown into. Looking upward, she found Srin sitting to one side with the men. Quieter now, the potent juice having finally dulled even his endless energies. He looked straight at her and Maye felt him inside her chest, felt his heartbeat, felt the heat of his body, the terrible and joyous life within him. Every part of her twined about the moment and she thought she would cease to be once more, this time captured by his eyes instead of the dark, thoughtful trees.
Srin looked away as if he had not even seen her and Maye blinked, completely confused.
"They cannot see you, little one." Her grandmother's soft voice drew Maye's eyes from the young shaman's face.
"I don't understand, Mother." A moment's panic washed over her and then subsided as Ujemb took her hand once more.
The old woman smiled gently, "We are dreamwalking, little one. You are a dreamwalker. Like your father. Like me. You did not find anything because it could only find you, and I know it did."
Maye's confusion seemed strangely distant as she looked about the village. No one looked at them. She and the Mother stood beside the fire and everyone talked, touched, smiled, ate, and laughed around them. The moment stretched and her grandmother's soft voice filled her, "I have known you would walk this path since you were five, Maye. Your father knew when he left. He would be so proud of you."
Maye turned and looked out into the forest, but not with her eyes. She realized she was not seeing it, she was feeling it as one feels a dark room one knows very well. The shadows did not hide it from her, the trunks and vines and leaves did not conceal. All of it filled her. The terror of being drawn out into it whispered for a moment inside her, but the warmth of her grandmother's hand and the sounds of her people would not let her go, so the fear left her as if in search of something else to feed on.
Suddenly, she was back against the tree, staring into her grandmother's eyes.
Ujemb smiled as she wiped the tracks of Maye's tears from her granddaughter's dirt covered cheeks, "Now, shall we go and join them at the fire before Srin lights something ablaze?"
The whispers of the forest settled into the background and Maye could not keep from smiling back, "It would probably be himself."
Ujemb laughed and drew her beloved granddaughter up from the ground, and though the walk was much longer this time, when Maye stepped out into the light of the fire, she could only laugh joyously at Srin's stumbling welcome.
"I am earth! I am fire!", Srin cried to the stars, crazy with happiness, drunk on his first night of manhood, covered in sweat and very little else. The young women and girls watched his powerful frame gyrate and twist so close to the fire it seemed it would consume him. Sitting in the shadows with several of the older men, Jurtsrik laughed softly and muttered to the flames around his new apprentice, protecting his spirit and strength. Another day, he would dampen this one's bright needs, but not tonight. Tonight the old shaman let the next generation drown in the heady power of the elements he would someday control.
Srin scooped up Huryie'ke in his arms, drawing a squeal from the pretty young girl, "Come, hunter! Dance with me! It is too early to be tired and sitting! I want to fly around the fire until the ground melts under my feet!"
The young woman laughed as his powerful arms whirled her about, enjoying his attention and knowing it for what it was, "Careful, little lizard. I will stick you with something and let out some of that hot air."
At the sound of his childhood nickname, Srin growled playfully, baring his teeth, then swaying his head back and forth to brandish his tusks, "No lizard now! I am a dragon!" His battle cry transformed suddenly into a screech of indignation as water cascaded over his head and shoulders from behind him, Huryie slipped from his grasp just in time to avoid getting wet. "Aiiiiiiiiiiii!"
Yieryama settled the wooden bucket against her leg, the other hand on her hip, smiling at the young buck with all the confident ease only a mother can have, "And I am the dragon's mother and if he doesn't cool off and behave, I will drag him by his ear into our tent and put him to bed."
As the camp degenerated into laughter and good humored teasing, Mother Ujemb turned slowly back to look out into the dark trees from the border of light and darkness at the edge of the village. She leaned on her stick and lifted her face, taking a long breath of the air…and her eyes narrowed as she finally found what she had been looking for. Like one of the dancing shadows the fire cast outward from the center of the village, she disappeared into the undergrowth, so silent it seemed as if she were one of the dark cats that haunted the edges of the hills.
Maye could just barely hear the shouts and music from the village. The firelight spoke of warmth, happiness, and safety. Every now and then she could hear Srin's voice for a moment, deep and singular in her ear. She gathered her legs to her body, wrapping her arms about them as she pressed back into the tree whose roots cradled her long, slim form. The tears had dried on her cheeks, now. She had nothing left to cry out. It was as if the world had rendered her empty and then taken away her skin. Over in the village was what she had been. Out here was what she was supposed to be.
But she could not find it.
Something tickled the nape of her neck, and her thoughts were suddenly sharp and cold. She had been looking so hard for so long, today, she felt as if every blade of grass was speaking to her, as if the very forest itself would suddenly take her and spread her out in the night, never to be a person again. The movement was behind her, easy and soft, and for an instant she knew terror in the feel of it, but it changed like the Yuomikyuo gremlins of the Mother's stories, and was suddenly familiar.
Maye looked up and was once more staring into the soft, sparkling eyes of her grandmother.
For a long time, she could say nothing. The world clear and open and threatening to take her from her body. Then the old woman reached out and gathered her young one to her. The forest disappeared, leaving Maye sobbing into the warmth of familiar robes.
"I have failed, Mother. I have failed." Tears blurred Maye's vision as she curled into her grandmother's ancient arms. The memories of the day broke apart in her as all her plans and expectations dissolved.
Ujemb stroked the young girl's long, bright hair with stiff, slow fingers. "Shhhhh. You have not failed. I told you that you would not, and I know you didn't."
Maye lifted her face reluctantly, looking into the Mother's eyes. She could not remember a moment when her grandmother had not been there for her. Could not remember being apart from her. Once again she saw the world around her reflected in the old woman's eyes, every star and shadow kept there in miniature.
Ujembe reached out and took her granddaughter's face in her hands, her voice soft, "It is all right, little flower. You are fine. Will you come with me into the village? The others are all returned." She touched her forehead very softly to the young troll's for a moment.
A strange calm settled about Maye's feelings. All the doubts and fears that had kept her out in the forest transformed into wisps of nothing from some other place. Once more, the forest filled her senses, but her grandmother's hands, so warm and dry and gentle, took away any fear she had of disappearing into the green emptiness.
Smiling, Ujemb took Maye's hand and stood, drawing her from the ground. It seemed as if the leaves parted around them, seemed that the grass held them up as the jungle watched them pass with a thousand eyes and ears and other senses unnamed. Maye did not even notice any time before she was standing at the edge of the firelight, her grandmother's hand warm in hers.
Maye looked into the village and blinked to try and clear the tears from her eyes, but everything seemed out of focus. Her people moved in the light, laughing, smiling, touching. She watched them and their happiness filled her. The brightness of their lives joined with the forest that had invaded her being during the day and the emptiness that had threatened to consume her slipped away. Her grandmother leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Go…go and be with them."
The young woman let go of her grandmother's hand and walked into the firelight. She waited for them to see her, looking downward. She ran her fingers through her long hair, trying to brush twigs and leaves from the tresses. She looked down over herself and was suddenly aware of the splotches of mud and bits of moss which she had all over her from the day. She could imagine what she looked like. Tall and slim and filthy, barely showing the roundness of woman which all her friends had long ago grown into. Looking upward, she found Srin sitting to one side with the men. Quieter now, the potent juice having finally dulled even his endless energies. He looked straight at her and Maye felt him inside her chest, felt his heartbeat, felt the heat of his body, the terrible and joyous life within him. Every part of her twined about the moment and she thought she would cease to be once more, this time captured by his eyes instead of the dark, thoughtful trees.
Srin looked away as if he had not even seen her and Maye blinked, completely confused.
"They cannot see you, little one." Her grandmother's soft voice drew Maye's eyes from the young shaman's face.
"I don't understand, Mother." A moment's panic washed over her and then subsided as Ujemb took her hand once more.
The old woman smiled gently, "We are dreamwalking, little one. You are a dreamwalker. Like your father. Like me. You did not find anything because it could only find you, and I know it did."
Maye's confusion seemed strangely distant as she looked about the village. No one looked at them. She and the Mother stood beside the fire and everyone talked, touched, smiled, ate, and laughed around them. The moment stretched and her grandmother's soft voice filled her, "I have known you would walk this path since you were five, Maye. Your father knew when he left. He would be so proud of you."
Maye turned and looked out into the forest, but not with her eyes. She realized she was not seeing it, she was feeling it as one feels a dark room one knows very well. The shadows did not hide it from her, the trunks and vines and leaves did not conceal. All of it filled her. The terror of being drawn out into it whispered for a moment inside her, but the warmth of her grandmother's hand and the sounds of her people would not let her go, so the fear left her as if in search of something else to feed on.
Suddenly, she was back against the tree, staring into her grandmother's eyes.
Ujemb smiled as she wiped the tracks of Maye's tears from her granddaughter's dirt covered cheeks, "Now, shall we go and join them at the fire before Srin lights something ablaze?"
The whispers of the forest settled into the background and Maye could not keep from smiling back, "It would probably be himself."
Ujemb laughed and drew her beloved granddaughter up from the ground, and though the walk was much longer this time, when Maye stepped out into the light of the fire, she could only laugh joyously at Srin's stumbling welcome.
))
Founded April 26, 2005