By Cody Jackson
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A delicate haze hung low in the domed tent as a small fire crackled between two seated Syndar. One was Eredh, young with notable horns protruding from their forehead. The other was an elder draped in an exquisitely beaded buckskin shawl decorated in the motif of eagle wings. The elder watched the young one with gentle patience, they knew that words would come when the time was ready.
“I saw my grandmother again last night while I was walking in the woods.” Eredh began, “Their face was lined with wrinkles, familiar ones, the ones that touch the corners of their eyes when they smile. I could feel the tears well in my eyes, but then Grandmother reached out and touched me on my shoulder. There were no words, just their smile.” Eredh looked up at the old Syndar sitting across from them. They too had friendly wrinkles and a soft smile, just like Grandmother.
“Go on, young one.” The man was not Deer Clan like Eredh, such a thing would be impossible as no others from the Deer Clan made the journey to Mardun. No, this man was from another people all together, but though their cultures differed, Eredh had learned to respect and admire the man’s wisdom during their time spent with The Shattered Tribes.
“Yes Elder. Grandmother stood there for a moment and gazed into my eyes. They seemed…conflicted. They were happy to see me well, but it felt as if they had words they wished to share with me, but couldn’t. Instead they put both hands on my shoulders and gave me a small nod before vanishing into the aether.”
The man nodded along, but remained quiet. When Eredh finished talking the elder turned and stuck the end of a braid of grass into their fire until it caught and handed it to Eredh. “First thing is the offering of sweet smoke to bring joy and thanks to your grandmother’s spirit for her journey to see you.” Eredh blew out the flame and fanned the embers until an incense-like smoke continuously trailed off the braid.
“Second thing we do,” the man began again, “is to know that this is now the time to cry. Our tears cleanse us so that our minds and spirits may unite in purpose and balance and we might uncover the truths we hold within. So now, Eredh, you may cry.”
Eredh looked to the delicate stream of smoke lifting away from the grass braid. They looked up the trail, tracing it with their eyes until it mingled with the haze at the top of the tent’s dome. Tears welled in their eyes and their head fell into their lap. Eredh’s shoulders rocked in heavy sobs for a good few minutes before the tears eased to a gentle flow. All the while the elder sat quiet and free of judgment.When the tears ended the elder spoke again, “The name your Clan Mothers gave you, it means seed in your tongue. You were sent here to be a seed for your culture. The ways of your Clan have been a welcome blessing to The Shattered Tribes. We have all learned much from you as you have learned much from us. You have grown here from seed to seedling, but if a tree is to grow mighty it cannot remain inside. I cannot tell you that this is what your grandmother intended to tell you, but I can say that the more you grow, the more likely you are to find your answers.” The elder looked to the flames and continued to speak, “You’ve spoken with us of the Orenna within all things. I believe that it is time for you to nurture your Orenna and grow your strengths. You will always have a home here, but you must also venture out and see the wider world.”
Eredh nodded solemnly and thanked the elder for their time and words, promising to do as they were told. The elder smiled warmly and gestured that it was okay to leave. Eredh returned the grass braid to the elder, stood, and walked to the exit of the tent. The door was thick hide, designed to keep the space dark and the air inside still. It did its job well and Eredh’s eyes watered when they stepped out into the light of day.
A young woman approached with an abalone shell filled with smoldering herbs. Eredh thanked them before dipping two cupped hands into the smoke. They lifted the smoke over their head to wash their mind. They lifted the smoke to their eyes, then ears, then nose to wash their senses. They lifted the smoke to their mouth to wash their words. They lifted the smoke to their chest to wash their heart. Finally Eredh draped their braid into the smoke and let it dance gently over their hair. They thanked the woman again and stepped aside so she could enter the elder’s tent.
Eredh walked immediately toward the longhouse they slept in and started to pack some of their things. Not all would be taken, if things are left behind a person will always return. As they packed, Makwa of the Spider Clan entered the longhouse. They sauntered up to Eredh and asked pointedly, “What are you doing?”
“I’m packing. Elder Wanbli has given me charge to go out into the world and grow.”
“Well, where are you going to go?”
Eredh stopped and stood still for a moment. Makwa laughed a hearty and rolling laugh, “You didn’t even think about it did you?! Wanbli just said you need to go and you didn’t even ask any questions you just started packing! This is so, Eredh. Cuzzin, your head is so filled with stories, but you never stop to learn the lessons they tell. Wait wait. Did you smudge on the way out of the Elder’s tent?”
Eredh nodded.
“And you washed your head first didn’t you.”
Eredh nodded.
“That explains it.”
“What do you mean?” Eredh asked.
Makwa stood for a moment with a stern look on their face, but soon it cracked into a wide smile, “It means that you washed all the smart thoughts right out of your brain!” Makwa erupted into a deep laugh and slapped Eredh playfully across the back.
“Alright alright, So I don’t know where I’m going yet. But I’ve got to go there.”
Makwa stopped laughing and their face grew serious, “So you’re really gonna go then? You mean it?”
“Yeah. I have to. Grandmother didn’t name me housecat or homebody. I need the light to grow.”
“Huh. Well. You know I heard a rumor the other day. You know that expedition that sailed out of Newhope to go check on their outpost in the Outlands?”
“Yeah, the traders were all talking about it.”
“Well so they ran into a Syndar up there. Face painted in gold, carrying war clubs or something. Now they are saying that this stranger is going to be coming down to The Shattered Spear outpost on The Shield to talk to us southerners. That’s where you should go.”
“To see this Syndar?”
“Yeah! Who knows what stories they have to tell! How did they get up there? How long have they been there? What have they seen up there?! Imagine the new stories you could cram into that head of yours! Now that’s what I call growth.”
Eredh paused, deep in thought. “And I suppose if there’s a fight I could knock some Mordok around…”
“Well, YOU could try.” Makwa let out another hearty laugh and again slapped Eredh across the back