The girls left with their father to perform the ceremony first, since they had a long trip back. This left Orn to rest and catch up with his family.

“… and now I have my own bow.” Orn showed the bow to his parents. “It is not the best, but I can hit the ball when I play with Jomie and Gorud.”

“Wait a moment.” His father raised a hand. “May I see that?”

“Of course.” Orn offered the bow to his father.

Standing the count, strung and drew the bow. After a moment he eased the tension on the string and looked back at Orn. “How?”

‘What do you mean?” Orn was not sure what his father meant. It is a bow. It works like the one you gave me.

“Your father does not understand how you can hit anything with that bow.” Uncle interjected seeing Orn’s confusion. “The darn thing shoots hard to the right.”

“But you said it was fine.” he watched the older man feeling betrayed.

“It is. It is a very good first attempt, but you are supposed to realize it is not a very good bow. You are supposed to ask for another one. Not use it until you can use it as if it is a good bow.” the old hunter gestured at the group, “I told you you were too stubborn. Take too much after your parents. Your father kept missing with his, until I got sick of watching and took it from him.”

Orn’s mother cleared her throat, “I do not know what you are talking about. I never made a bow.”

“That is what I mean. You refused to touch a bow, and causally showed up a group of boys with a string and a few pebbles. What did you say? ‘Why bother when I can hit anything I want to now?’” Orn turned to stare at his mother who quickly looked away.

“I swear your son takes too much after you both.” he sighed and gestured to Orn’s parents in turn. “Too ignorant to realize he is wrong. But he is also too stubborn and self confident to quit until he achieves what he should not be able to. Makes it hard to guide his path...”

Uncle seemed like he had more to say, but Aunty nudged his arm. “It is Orn’s turn, and do not think I am unaware of what you are doing. This is just your excuse to give him his new bow early.”

“No idea what you are talking about.” Uncle shot back in a tone that fooled no one, before handing Orn the bow he had been carrying. “This is made by one of the best bow-makers we have. No point in giving you a bunch of fine arrows, without a matching bow.”

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Handing the bow to Orn and taking the one Orn’s father still held, he added with a wink, “We cannot present you to the ancestors with bad equipment, now can we?”

Orn’s parents laughed and handed him a parcel hidden in the bottom of the picnic basket.

…

The new bow over his shoulder and a new hunting knife at his waist, Orn followed his parents through the trees and into a clearing.

“We are here.” His father stopped and gestured to a pile of rocks in the center of the clearing. “This is it. What do you think?”

Orn stared at the stacked rocks and struggled to keep his disappointment down. This is what this was all about? He could not see anything interesting about the rocks. In fact, the only thing notable about the rocks is how the grasses and vines in the clearing had not completely overgrown the knee-high stack. “I… I do not know.”

Something about the clearing seemed familiar though, I think this is where we met Uncle last year.

His mother smiled and walked to stand beside his father. “That is much nicer than what I said. I think it was something along the lines of, ‘You propose to me in the middle of the night, and drag me through the woods to see a pile of rocks?’”

His father laughed, and squeezed her hand. “I still remember your face when you realized they were more than that.”

“You were lucky, I did not leave you right then.” She smiled and squeezed his hand back.

To Orn’s left Olivia rolled her eyes. She has clearly heard this before.

“This is the oldest tradition of our people.” His father smiled at him. “Watch closely.”

His father then pulled out the hunting knife he carried and made a tiny cut on his hand. Then he slowly lifted his bleeding hand above the stones, and began uttering words On did not recognize. As he spoke he brought his hand into contact with the top of the stones.

Orn was not sure what to make of what happened next. When his father’s hand touched the stones, he felt something tug at him inside. It was as if the stone was pulling him towards the pile.

When his father lifted his hand the stones appeared the same, but he knew something had happened. The small dark spot where his father’s blood had touched the stones faded then disappeared entirely as the blood was absorbed by the stone.

“What was that?” Orn asked feeling the pull fade as his father’s blood disappeared.