Finding His Way
Tell me where did I go wrong
Everyone I loved, they're all gone
I'd do everything so differently
but I can't turn back the time
There's no shelter from the storm inside of me...
(from No Way Out, the single version)
Chapter 1: The Return
He had changed.
All in the Hearth of Tanana noted the difference in Akna's second-born, ever since he returned from his journey that took the full waxing and waning of a moon. He returned one day unlooked for, unshaven and exhausted, the shadows of cold and starvation only recently faded from his youthful face.
"I have a story to tell," he said simply, on that day of his return.
His story was heard, a tale of three brothers. The first brother gave his life so his little brothers might live, and guided them thereafter. The second was consumed by grief and rage, and turned away from the wisdom that was his totem. The third, though the youngest, learned early the meaning of responsibility, sacrifice, and love; in so doing, he became a man.
His story was heard and approved, the manhood ceremony accordingly prepared. When all was done Denahi climbed the precipice above the Ceremonial Cave in the dusk. And when he sent the wolf's long hunting-call into the still air, a bear's roar answered from the distance.
When the two bears entered the village next day at sunset, an adolescent and a cub, the village's first instinct was to flee to their huts and let the spears do the talking. Denahi it was who dispelled the uneasy atmosphere, tackling the larger bear with a playful shout only to get swatted lightly away.
They knew the bear as Kenai, then, from the totem round the powerfully muscled neck. The cub, Koda, came warily out from his hiding place behind Kenai to make prompt friends with the village children.
After the excitement of the ceremony the brothers spent some time together. Denahi lay on the ground with his back against Kenai's curled-up bulk, Koda sleeping peacefully nearby. Denahi's low, laughing voice, punctuated by an occasional bear grunt or two, murmured late into the night as man and bear gazed up at the stars and the Lights above. The voices died down towards morning but the village knew each brother slept little, if at all.
They set out together at dawn, the two bears and the youth, unlikely friends and even unlikelier brothers. Out in the wild, somewhere there among the blue glaciers, the winding rivers, the sleeting rain and soaring mountains the womb-brothers said their farewells. Not the final one, or so they tried to tell themselves, but in their hearts they knew they had begun on diverging paths. Love there would be, to the end of their days, but never again the togetherness they once had known.
It was on the night of the third day since his departure that Denahi returned, with the plodding walk of a man who bears too great a burden alone. Tanana greeted him at the village entrance and he slumped silently into her arms, lanky frame shaking in wordless grief from partings too soon, too many.
Yet he was up and cheerful again in the icy dawn, energetic as ever. He dispensed the hundred details of daily life with ease and grace as was his wont, but it was strange to see him fishing, tanning hide, or mending alone when always there used to be two by his side.
Life went on, and gradually Denahi began to laugh more and join the other young men in their games and entertainment. But the tribe watched their son with a wary eye still, for the shadowed and fleeting demons of his mistakes yet dogged Denahi son of Akna.
Chapter 2: The Hunt
Amaruq woke to the sound of splashing water. He raised himself on one elbow and noticed one of the hunting party was missing from the cluster of sleeping men around the low fire. Again a quiet splash off to his left, and he sighed. Resolutely shaking off the warm clutch of his bedding, he rose and headed towards the river nearby.
Denahi stood there in the waist-high water near the shore, the Lights above reflected on the clear surface. He greeted his hunt leader with a quizzical look.
"Amaruq."
"What are you doing up, Denahi?" Amaruq squatted on the shore, trying to look nonchalant. The truth was, he had a good idea what was bothering his old friend: Denahi was having nightmares ever since they set out on this hunting trip.
"Thinking, I guess." Denahi gazed off into the darkness, looking a little lost. He didn't seem quite recovered from the day before when the hunters had taken down a small, lame doe and he'd thrown up at the sight of the blood. The members of the hunt understood the burden he still carried and pitied him, yet...
Amaruq rubbed tiredly at his forehead. He really didn't want to lose Denahi from the hunt--he'd always been one of the best, with equal measures of strength and intelligence. But Denahi was holding himself back, and just wasn't performing to the full even though he tried. Maybe it was kinder to just let him off the hook.
"You know, Denahi..." Amaruq paused, trying to be tactful as possible. "If you want to head back to the village..." He stopped abruptly, almost cringing at the flash of hurt anger in Denahi's eyes.
"Thanks, but I think I'll be okay." Denahi's voice was strained as he stepped out of the water and roughly pulled his clothes on.
Amaruq stood and turned to face Denahi's retreating back. "Well you don't act it!" He said, unthinking--and instantly regretted it when the other man stiffened and came to a standstill.
"You've got to talk to someone, Denahi." Amaruq continued when the silence stretched on. Then he realized what he was asking of a man whose brothers had always been his confidants and best friends. The only two people Denahi could hope to talk to, and one was up in the Lights while the other would never speak the language of men again. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."
"No, I'm sorry." Denahi turned to fix Amaruq with a quiet gaze that unnerved him more than anger. This just wasn't the same Denahi he'd known before, too quiet, too unreadable, too...distant.
"I know I wasn't at the top of my game, these few days," Denahi looked away, droplets of water glistening in his hair. "It won't happen again." He disappeared into the darkness towards the campsite, quiet as a shadow among the trees.
That went well. Amaruq swore to himself and kicked a rock into the water. You're just one heck of a leader, aren't you.
Nowhere as good as Sitka had been, anyway. At the thought he looked up at the Lights above, wondering if his childhood friend looked down at this place just as he was looking up.
"Hey, Sitka. I bet you're sick of everyone still bringing you their problems, even when you're dead and all. But-" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Denahi had gone. "You know, a little help there? Thank you." He shook his head and, feeling like a fool, headed back to camp himself. Somehow he did feel a little better, though.
Behind him the reflected lights of the aurora still rippled and flowed, ethereal in their ever-changing beauty.
"We'll trap this one in the ravine," Amaruq told the hunting party. The scouts had confirmed that a big bull elk was in the vicinity, quite old and likely not much trouble. "Tipuk, Unalaq, choose two more and flank right. Pinahut, take Massak and two others to left flank. The rest are with me, we'll herd the bull from behind."
"That ravine is clear on the left side," Denahi observed, surprising the others. He'd been quiet throughout the hunt, giving an opinion only when asked. "The two others on the left should be Nauja and Ihun, that way our best spear-throwers get clear shots."
Amaruq nodded slowly; Denahi was right. "Okay, Denahi. I want you on left flank, too." He flashed his friend a grin of gratitude, but Denahi didn't quite meet his eye. Amaruq sighed inwardly. "Let's move out."
Things were going well. The elk had bounded ahead of them right into the ravine and the hunt followed confidently, running to the end of the ravine where the elk would find itself facing a dead end. At the edges of his vision Amaruq could see the shadows of his comrades rushing between the trees that lined either lip of the ravine. As Denahi said, the left edge was markedly lighter of vegetation. Amaruq wondered if Denahi had gained this kind of knowledge tracking Kenai across the wilderness, then pushed the thought away.
They approached the closed end of the ravine. A thick clump of trees and undergrowth marked it, with the bull nowhere in sight. When they approached, however, they heard it making distressed sounds from somewhere inside the vegetation. Guessing the creature was wounded Amaruq approached the trees, though cautiously. He thought he heard a rustle of leaves, and then-
He froze when a cream-colored blur erupted out of the trees straight at him, deadly sharp antlers raking across his vision as the elk lowered its head. Amaruq raised his spear out of purest reflex, deflecting the sharpened points away from himself before his spear caught in the spikes and was pulled from his hands.
He fell backwards from the recoil and hastened to his feet, only to realize he had put himself in perfect position to be gored by a furious thousand-pound elk. He heard the panicked shouts of his comrades and knew they'd never be able to react in time, it was all happening too fast. His heart was unnaturally loud in his ears, though the rest of him froze at the sight of the bull charging straight at him...
Suddenly it stopped mid-charge, took one or two steps from sheer momentum, paused again. Finally it crumpled and fell heavily on its flank, a spear protruding from its shoulder.
"Amaruq!" Amaruq somehow found himself sitting on the ground, dizzy and dazed. Numbly he turned to the source of the shout and saw Denahi slide down the side of the ravine on his feet, a frantic shower of dirt in his wake. Presently he was kneeling beside Amaruq, face gone pale with horror. "Spirits above, 'Maruq, are you all right?"
Amaruq saw the wild look in Denahi's eyes and realized he was remembering another accident gone terribly wrong, when Sitka had lost his life. "I'm fine," he said emphatically, his hand firm on Denahi's arm to assure him that he was real. "I'm okay, Denahi. Thanks to you."
At his words Denahi let out a long, steady breath, the tension flowing out of him like water, then stood slowly to walk over to the elk he had felled. Amaruq did the same. The animal was in a pitiful state: Denahi had thrown his spear in too much haste to hit the vital organs, yet the bleeding was profuse. The elk lay on its side struggling to stand, trembling with pain and shock. The light was already leaving its aged and rheumy eyes.
Unalaq stepped forward to strike the mercy blow, but Denahi stopped him and silently held out a hand. Amaruq nodded to Unalaq when he saw his hesitation. Amaruq worried for Denahi as well after everything he'd been through, but the rules of the hunt dictated who had the right to the killing blow. And if Denahi felt he could deal with it--then by the Spirits, Amaruq had no intention and no right to insult his friend by coddling him. Unalaq reluctantly handed over the spear.
Denahi struck quick and deep, just under the shoulder so that both lungs were punctured. The elk shuddered once and died almost instantly. Warm blood soaked the grass underneath as Denahi knelt next to the carcass, his whispered words carrying far in the hushed silence.
"Forgive me, my brother. We thank you for your gifts of hide and meat, which will clothe us and feed us." As he lowered his head the wolf totem, displaced in the earlier flurry of activity, swung out of his shirt to almost touch the bloodstained grass.
Denahi stepped back to let the others skin and quarter the elk, not seeming to notice the awed looks the men cast his way. He clapped Amaruq on the shoulder as he passed, and his look of absolute relief when their eyes met made Amaruq's heart almost break with pity.
He gazed down at the carcass and thought of Denahi's words to the elk. He was struck by the depths of suffering those words sprang from, and by the way Denahi had reconciled his guilt with the needs of survival. Perhaps Denahi's ordeal had been necessary for him, and for their people; the Spirits always did work in mysterious ways. Amaruq just wished the lesson could have been taught without so much emotional pain on Denahi's part.
Chapter 3: Celebration
The celebration ceremony was an elaborate and joyous affair. The hunt had been plentiful, and none of the hunters had sustained anything more serious than minor hurts. The Great Spirits were thanked for the success of the hunt, and each huntsman celebrated the excursion with a story while others listened and ate.
Denahi, whom many praised in their stories for his knowledge and resourcefulness, sat quietly in a corner laughing and eating with his companions. There was a new balance in him ever since he returned from the hunt, a hard-won inner calm that drew people to him as though to the warmth of a fire.
"Denahi," called Tanana, "it's your turn for a story."
Denahi made his way to the inner wall of the Ceremonial Cave where he sat down next to Tanana, tossing more firewood on the bonfire before turning to his expectant audience.
"My story is about the Old Man Elk, who was my kill...and my brother, just like the bear I once hunted was my brother." Silence fell when the tribe realized what he was sharing with them. "Old Man Elk was as wise as he was old, just like our grandfathers and grandmothers." Laughter and aye's of approval followed.
"When the hunters came, he tried to escape by pretending to be wounded." Denahi mimicked the animal's distressed snorts. "The hunt leader," he quirked an eyebrow in Amaruq's direction amid good-natured guffaws, "fell for the trick. To be sure, Old Man Elk was very convincing." He grinned at the way the members of the hunt needled Amaruq, much to the leader's annoyance.
"Old Man Elk taught me many things," Denahi continued. "He taught me thanks for the gifts our hunted give us--the gift of survival. He taught me never to kill in pleasure or anger, as I once almost did." Denahi paused when his voice caught in his throat, and the crackling of the fire was loud in the silence.
"I thought I had lost all my brothers after Sitka went to the Lights and Kenai to the bears. But Old Man Elk showed me differently when he attacked Amaruq." Denahi gave a sad and wondering smile. "He taught me my brothers were all around me all this time, caring about me, and I was too blind to see." Quietly he met Amaruq's eyes, then looked on all those present with a gaze full of gentle gratitude. "These are the things Old Man Elk taught me, may I never forget."
No one spoke for a moment while Denahi stood and returned to his seat, and the village looked to him with newfound affection and respect. Tanana was the one who finally spoke up for the rest.
"I think, Denahi," she said softly, "you're ready to leave your mark next to the ancestors." Her gaze went to the Wall of Ancestors, with its many handprints and the single paw print in the center.
So it was that Denahi stood once more on the peak of Ceremonial Rock to sound the hunting-call. But this time there was no answering roar, just some music from the wolves of the nearby forest. Denahi tried a few more times, the howl of a wolf seeking its pack, a little hoarse, a little forlorn, but hauntingly beautiful in the deepening of clear twilight.
At last he descended to the cave, sadness in his eyes. Maybe Kenai had gone in search of better food, maybe he was in early hibernation. Or maybe a hunter's spear had finally caught him and he would never answer his brother's call again, a thought that plagued the village as they started Denahi's coming-of-age ceremony the next day at sunset.
Tanana handed Denahi his torch, and just as he threw it to light the bonfire a bear's roar echoed from the outskirts of the village.
"Kenai," whispered Denahi. And sure enough it was Kenai bounding up the path to the cave, a much more grown but still happy-go-lucky Koda in tow.
Kenai, also grown bigger and more muscular in the past months, all but bowled his elder brother over before Denahi threw his arms around the strong neck. And when Denahi went up to the wall with his brother to leave his mark, his handprint had its place next to Kenai's. As soon as Denahi was done Kenai was tackling him joyfully to the ground, and they tussled like children in the sheer delight of being together, of being brothers.
That night man and bear slept peacefully under the open sky with the Lights dancing overhead, curled up in each other's warmth and secure in the knowledge of the great love they shared, a love that surrounded them in the oneness of all creation.
-the end-