Who
1000 AD
Who am I?
Was I born? If so, where is the mother who bore me? Where is the vessel that sheltered me with her body?
Did I come into being by some other mystical power? Was I constructed by the Great-Spirit-Creator himself? Am I of "his" design? Bred from the very Earth, Air and Snow? What is the secret of my existence?
These are my first thoughts, or the first that I can remember. It's been so many years... They are mighty thoughts for a child. Great contemplations that would make the most self-accomplished philosopher or great-thinker quaver. To this day, I have not been able to answer these inner questions.
What am I?
I do not allow such confusions and curiosities to torment me. I am convinced I rose out of the very ground, a ghost doomed to wander the hills and wilderness for all eternity. For I truly am a ghost. There is no better noun to describe me, both then and now. The People of the land have no name for me, just as I have no name for me. I am a ghost to them, see-through, insubstantial. The pale spirit child that harmlessly plays with the local children, whispers at night, runs through the trees like a fading wisp, and watches the fires.
I like The People. I love The People. They are MY people. I want to protect them, to shelter them, but I am but a welp. I know not the things of men, or the ways of the world. One day, I will learn, and I will learn that not all is good in the world. There is evil, and there is evil in me. I am not exempt from the evil that perpetrates everything, from great nations and governments to the very air that fills our lungs. It cannot be contained.
I live alone. Briefly there will be flashes of contact with The People, or the animals... but that aside, I am alone. Bitterly, and yet blissfully, alone.
When I do interact with The People, my favourite thing to do is listen to the stories. The stories they tell are fantastic, exciting. They make my life whole with their weaving of words and great legends. Sedna of the Sea, the great giantess who rules the oceans and provides for the hungry when winter's chill touches the land. The divine woman, the first human, and the turtle who held her up out of the sea's deadly embrace. The two brothers, Glooskap and Malsum. The sister sun, and her brother moon, endlessly quarreling and chasing each other in a lustful cycle, reuniting during eclipses. The three sisters, corn, squash, and beans, who grow best when planted together. Napi, Old Man, the Grandfather, the Great Spirit, the creator of all. The Thunder Bird. The Raven. Kluskap, Nukumi, Netawansum, Ni'kanaptekewi'skw... All great tales... but my favourite stories have to be those of Nanook.
Nanook. Nanuk. The king of the arctic, the master of all bears and hunters. His coat is white, his legs swift, his nose sensitive, and he is mighty and strong. The greatest of all hunters. The white bear of the north. He is most deserving of respect. We pray to him to bless the hunt, so that it may be successful.
Sadly, none of the legends explain my existence. I not only don't know who or what I am, I also do not know my purpose. Do I have a purpose?
/
One day I was out and about. Wandering, as I usually did. There wasn't much else to do, and I loved to explore. There is almost nothing better for a boy my age than to feel the wind hitting your face, knowing you can freely saunter about to your heart's content. It's simply a matter of picking a random direction on a whim, and taking it. You follow the wind like The People of the plains follow the buffalo. When you have that level of primal freedom, it's hardly an issue to deal with chapped lips, insects, or even a temporary lack of food. Food always comes to the most patient and quiet of hunters, and this certainly applies to me.
On that same day, I came upon something strange. Collapsed some few metres away from me, was a small mass of soft white fur. What looked like a bundle of snow-white pelts. I knew what it was immediately.
Nanook.
An ice bear. A baby, if it's size was anything to go by. Nanertak. The ice flows are far away. How did he get here?
The question was, was it still alive? It certainly didn't look that way from where I was standing. Since it was so deathly still, I chanced getting closer to get a better look.
"Peace, brother," I reassured it in the most local tongue, circling around it cautiously to be sure this wasn't too hazardous. Even if by some miracle it wasn't dead, it probably couldn't understand me anyway. Speaking to it was a gamble. It would either soothe the animal, or drive it into a feral panic.
The white bear stirred, the ear closest to me flicking and twisting, zeroing in on my voice. A small smile fitted itself on my face. So, it was alive after all... But far from its home. Far from its family. Beyond survival, without help.
I knelt down next to it. Small and starving, it most likely couldn't hurt me if it tried. But then, there was the other side of it. Animals (and by extension, people) could get especially violent when desperate. My tiny hands gently felt across its side, moving across each rib that jutted out. It hadn't eaten for many, many days.
In that moment, I had to make a decision. Kill it, and put it out of it's misery, as well as taking any meat he might offer (which probably wasn't going to be much) OR spare him, and nurse him back to health by exhausting my own hard-earned resources, only for him to possibly turn on me later.
He peaked open his large round eyes of pitch-black, staring up at me and shaking with the mere exertion of breathing. My heart softened. It'd probably be best to just end his suffering now... but... something in me just couldn't. He was different from the other animals, and not just because he was one of Nanooks' race. There was something in that innocent, hungry-driven, despairing gaze that screamed intelligence and a plea for help. It was a plea I could not refuse.
The bear looked to be far old enough to be weaned. Meat would do the trick. I had with me in my small, pelt-woven sack, some meat and supplies for the short journey. One can never venture out unprepared, is the general rule of this land. I retrieved this same meat now, preserved and dried pemmican that had a lot of calories and nourishment (especially with the added berries ground into it), but was not ideal food for a raw-meat eating bear cub. This was better than nothing, though, and beggars can't be choosers.
Offering him the strips of pemmican, I held out the meat directly to his mouth, foolishly unafraid of snapping jaws. He lifted up his head with painful effort, sniffing at the unfamiliar meat with a salivating mouth. Poor thing. Life was hard and rough, and only the strongest survived. Even Nanook wasn't exempt from this hard truth.
With only a few more seconds of delay, the bear cub snatched away the meat with flashing teeth, weakly gulping it down with hardly a pause for breath or chewing. I gave him all the food I had with me, and he ravenously accepted it. When it'd all been devoured, the bear cub licked its chops and looked up at me, eagerly smelling my hands, as if asking for more.
"I'm afraid you ate it all, nanertak, little bear," I squeaked, tentatively patting its head. He seemed trusting enough, and willing to be tamed. When I stood up to walk away, the white cub snuffled and stumbled to his feet, coming after me. It seemed like I had little choice but for him to come along, and I was fine with that, for now.
/
Seasons turned like the eagle flies on the wind, and the bear had not yet left my side. Strangely enough, he hadn't grown any either. Ever since we had met, he'd become frozen in time or something. And more than that, the more time we spent together, the smarter he seemed to get. When I spoke aloud to him, sometimes I could swear that he understood, and would respond appropriately.
We went travelling, just for the thrill of it. Finding new things everyday. There was always more land to traverse, more tribes to visit, more games to play. In the bright-light hours of day we'd walk, gather, and scavenge. He was extremely lazy, and hardly much of a hunter. I guess he saw me as his new mother, and therefore expected me to provide for him. When night came we'd cuddle up in dens, piles of leaves, or the canopies of tree-tops for safety, me snuggling into his soft fur for warmth. I grew less and less afraid of the possibility of him trying to eat me in my sleep, especially since he was still as small as ever.
One day, I said:
"You need a name. Everyone needs a name, and I can't just call you nanertak, little bear, can I? I can't call you Nanook, either. You're not a master hunter, it wouldn't be fitting."
Like the child that I was, I pretty much blurted out the first thing that came to mind. It didn't have any meaning, didn't make any sense, it just sounded right to me, and it just came out.
"Kumajiro!" I beamed. A nice sounding name.
"Who are you?"
My mouth fell open, hanging by its hinges. My purple eyes widened until they bulged out of my skull. My mind was overcome by mind-numbing shock. ...Did he just... talk?
"Who are you?" he repeated.
It was undeniable, especially the second time. Remarkably I could comprehend him with ease. He'd been given the gift of language and understanding! He must've somehow learned by watching and listening to me talk! Clever, clever boy!
"Clever Kuma!" I praised him, absolutely delighted. Inwardly I thanked the Creator for this gift. He must've blessed him with the power of human speech and communication. Truly, I was no longer as alone as I once was.
Exasperated that I had not as of yet answered his question, Kumajiro asked once again, "Who are you?"
I faltered. I now knew what he wanted to know, but I could not answer. I didn't know how to answer. He had a name, but I had none. He'd been christened with a designation, but I couldn't say the same for myself.
"Who are you?"
"...I don't know."
/
Strange moving islands appeared on the sea, landing on the beach. They looked like the canoes and boats The People built, but larger, longer, and taller. Also, they weren't made out of birch bark. Their bows towered up high, and large membranes of thin pelts billowed from the wind, pulling them forward across the waters.
Even stranger men jumped off and came ashore. They looked different, wore different clothes, and even smelled different. I didn't really like them, already with a first impression, and I'm not one to make big judgements until I meet someone face-to-face. They just gave me a bit of bad feeling. I hid away from them, convinced they couldn't see me. I was wrong.
Most of them DID ignore me, save for one of them. He was different, he felt different. There was just something about him... something relatable. His hair was light blond, kind of like mine, but short and straight. A weird cross thing was in his hair, which I found rather odd. His eyes were blue, and dull... lifeless. Stoic and almost emotionless. To have them directed at me sent shivers along my spine.
"Heisann."
The man's greeting was unintelligible to me. I cowered with a growling Kuma behind a boulder. He was scary...
"Nóregr," he said slowly, pointing to himself, and then directing his hand to me. "Vinland."
Vinland? Was that my name? It sounded so... unfamiliar. Hostile. Like a stranger. It could not be my name, but that was what the man seemed to want to call me. Who was I to know what my name was or wasn't? Maybe 'Vinland', as coarse as it sounded, WAS my name. I sure as hell hoped not, though.
Nóregr or whatever his name was attempted to approach me, but Kumasama and I scampered off. I didn't want to be alone anymore, and the man SEEMED alright and polite enough, but I still didn't want to stick around. As much as it would be nice to finally have a new friend, something inside me rejected him. I would need a lot of warming up to do with these new arrivals...
Thankfully, these men, who I later learned were called "Vikings", left rather quickly. They didn't stay for very long, and for various reasons. The relations between the "conquering" newcomers and The People were less than pleasant and friendly, and for good reason. If you were to ask me, though, I personally thought it was the cold that did them in. The winter was long, dark, and cold... Oh so very cold... Colder even than Nóregr's empty eyes.
I watched them leave, and felt no remorse. But once again, I was alone... and I didn't know who I was.
Author's Note:
Yes, that was Norway. Vikings were the first European explorers to discover the land that is now called North America, and Canada specifically. They called it "Vinland".
Nanook-Polar Bear (Inuit)
Nanertak-Little Bear, Polar Bear Cub (Inuit)
I wish I could include all the legends of the First Nations, but there really are just too many to list, let along to go into detail about. I tried to throw in a decent selection. My personal favourite is the Inuit one about the sister and the brother who became the sun and the moon. I'd definitely recommend reading that one, it's on the internet. Very morbidly interesting but disturbing.
Going skiing tomorrow. Yay! :'D
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