Wallace awoke to pain and nausea racking his body. An unfamiliar set of boots next to his face. The boots quickly stepped back as the child vomited across the stone tiles. The deep voice that reached the boy's ears was also unfamiliar, “Let it out boy, you will feel better for it.”

Wallace retched, not really having a choice about the matter. The boy looked up at the unfamiliar man when his body was done, and nothing was left. His eyes widened; everyone knew the markings of the Spirit Talker. “Venerated One, I apologize for my rudeness.”

“That’s quite all right, boy. Now get up and drink this.” The Spirit Talker handed the boy a small water skin. The liquid inside was cool and herbal. His stomach quickly settled, and the boy felt refreshed after but a mouthful. “Drink it all. I am sure you are depleted after all that.” The boy quickly gulped down the herbal drink, warmth and energy suffusing his body. The boy passed the skin back to the Spirit Talker with a nod of thanks. The older man guided the boy back to the river. “Wash up Crawler. Then we’ll walk and talk.”

“Crawler?” Wallace asked.

“Yep, that’s your adolescent name now. I just gave it to you. You are destined for greatness. But for now, you get to crawl in the mud like the rest of us. Thus Crawler.” Each stage of life for the Colri had different rules and names. The first name they received was as an adolescent.

Wallace moved into the river and washed the vomit and sweat from his body as the Spirit Talker asked, “Do you know what happened back there?”

“Sort of, Venerated One. I know that a Totem has chosen me.” Crawler-Wallace replied.

In his mind, the voice of Trickster said quickly, “Do not speak of your true nature. Just tell him that the Spirit Fox has chosen you.”

Without missing a beat, Crawler continued, “It’s the Spirit Fox. Outside of that, I know that I was marked with three Glyphs. Although I don’t remember which ones.”

“Well, little Crawler, you were marked by the Glyphs of Spirit, Clever, and Heart. Most folks don’t get marked at all on their Naming Day. If they do, it is only but one Glyph. Somehow you earned three. You are destined for greatness, little Crawler. But that is for another day. For today you need to go to the Trouble House and get settled. You will come to me every eighth day from here forward to learn about Glyphs and your magic.” The Spirit Talker said as he moved away, now go to the Trouble House and find the Elder in charge there.

Crawler bobbed his head respectfully, “Yes, Venerated One.” As he climbed onto the shore and jogged off toward the Village. The Spirit Talker smiled at the youth’s back. Curiosity and wariness grew within him. The world did not raise a being of greatness without needing them to act. Exciting times were coming.

Crawler jogged away to find another longhouse not far from the Children’s House. This one was in both better and worse repair than the last. Several sections of the longhouse were newer and cleaner, but these were patched into an older frame that had seen some hard wear and tear. Another Ancient was sitting on the porch with a trio of youths not much older than Crawler. This one Crawler knew as Ancient Sandvine, a hunter who had gone on the Long Walk on more than one occasion. He had brought back wealth and trade, knowledge treasures, and stories about the other countries and regions surrounding the Colri Plains. He was widely held as the most traveled in the Village. He stood at middling height and was wiry with thin, darkly tanned skin over old muscles. His white hair was braided back in the hunter’s queue, his Totemic Wolf tattoos were almost faded gray but were still sharp. Crawler stopped in front of the old hunter, standing in a loose but attentive pose, and waited for the Ancient to notice him.

Ancient Sandvine raised an eyebrow and examined the new member of Trouble House, his latest charge. “What name did ya get, boy?”

“I am called Crawler, Ancient.” Crawler replied with all due respect.

“Interesting name and word of your ceremony have already hit the boards.” Replied the Ancient, speaking about how fast the information had spread through the town. By now, everyone would have some version of the truth, although not an accurate one. Rumors were like that, faster than truth and growing more fantastic as they spread. “You will have an interesting time of it. That’s for sure. Follow me, and I’ll tell you how things work around here.”

Sandvine stood with a grunt, knees popping loudly. He took up a plain-looking sword and scabbard as wizened as he was. He used the sword as a cane, supporting a limping gate caused by a dragging left foot. The old man shuffled into the longhouse. It was quiet here in the afternoon. Hundreds of bouquets of dried herbs and flowers hung from the rafters by twine. The herbal scent fought the scent of ripe teenager in the long room. Several wind traps stood open along the roof, catching the breeze and pulling it into the room. Only so much could be done to cover decades of hormone-flooded sweat that had been shed in this room. The long house was four times as large as the Children’s House. Thirty bunks to a side with a foot locker at the base of the bunk, each divided by a woven wicker screen and a hanging curtain. Each bunk had a bedroll neatly rolled up toward the head. Four pegs set into the wall next to each cot, from which hung a long waxed coat, a towel, a cloth mesh sack for dirty laundry, and the last was empty. The dividers were the only thing that marked each of the cubicles as different. From this hung trophies, art pieces, small shelves with potted plants, or whatever the occupant decided. Sandvine shuffled about halfway down the left side and indicated an empty bunk.

Atop the footlocker was his small collection of personal belongings; a leather backpack hung from the fourth peg on the wall. The Ancient moved into the space, picked up one of the two remaining tusks, eyed it, then eyed Crawler and grunted before replacing the tusk. “This will be interesting. Well, welcome to your new home for the next six years.” Crawler stepped into the space with the older man; there was scant room for both of them.

“Put your things on your cot for now,” Sandvine said, and Crawler did as he was told. Images of Basic Training flashed in Wallace’s mind, hazy memories from long ago. Crawler/Wallace picked at it mentally, like picking through couch stuffing.

Crawler took a breath as the Trickster spoke to him telepathically, “Yes, memories like those will come to you more. For now, be patient and learn about this life. It will take time to integrate again fully.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Sandvine thumped the bedroll, cot, and then the footlocker. “Every morning when you leave here for your apprenticeships, you will leave your space looking like this. If you don’t, you will have extra chores before your free time on Ninthdays. Got it? Ancient Redfoot is very particular, and she will abide no mess in her place and make no doubts about whose place this really is.” He said with a grim and humorless smile.

“Now open your foot locker.” Crawler flipped open the lid of the worn wooden box. The raw Calpwood interior had a medicinal smell. Inside the box were fresh, clean, but second-hand clothes: eight shirts, eight pairs of breeches, ten sets of underclothes, and a rolled woolen blanket. A couple of baskets sat along one end. One held a lump of soap, a rough brush, three rolled coarse rags and a cup. The other basket was empty. “If she opens this footlocker on Fourthday and there aren’t the right count of clothes in here, you’ll be doing everyone’s laundry on Ninthday. Keep them neat as you can in here. If it's a mess, there are extra chores. You understand?” Crawler nodded. “This last basket is for your personal things. Don’t worry; everyone knows what happens when someone messes with your stuff. You can ask what that is when everyone comes home at dusk. Now put your things in there and follow me.” The Ancient moved out into the hallway between the cubicles and started to shuffle toward the back of the long house. He moved to a large board with an assortment of slots for small wood planks in two columns. One side had a variety of chores. The other was a set of planks with names. From a basket on the floor next to the board, the Ancient took a plank, wrote “Crawler” on it, and slid it into a slot next to a plank that said dishes. He then touched a blue stone set into the corner of the board, which glowed for a moment. “No swapping chores without permission from one of us Ancients.” Crawler noticed one of the names was set at the bottom next to three planks by itself.

Sandvine noticed Crawler seeing the name of “Log” and the trio of chores: Laundry, Sweeping, and Scrub Planks. Crawler thought he remembered the older boy from their shared time in the Children’s House. Log was a troublemaker. He should be fifteen now if Crawler remembered correctly. “Yeah, old Log is in trouble. But that’s why we call this the Trouble House. There’s always at least one. Don’t be like Log.”

“I won’t be Honored Ancient.” Crawler replied. Other memories of troubled teens flashed through Wallace’s mind. His times as a troubled teen, his children’s and their children. The dichotomy of memory that was both his and not his hurt his head.

“Well then, today is Sixthday; you have today and tomorrow with little to do. Firstday through Seventhday is apprenticeship, Eighthday is free and Ninthday is any extra chores then free. Every day you will keep your space clean and do your assigned chore in the evening. We rotate chores. They are mostly like Old Ancient Nan’s chores she had you help with. Now you are responsible for them. If you do them wrong, you get to do them again until you get them right. Breakfast is an hour after dawn, and dinner is at dusk. You gotta do your laundry on the free days. Pretty simple, right?”

“Yes, Honored Ancient.”

“Good enough for now. You start apprenticing with the Gardens on Firstday; you’ll be with them for a year. After a year with them, you’ll be with the Crafters for a year, next the Rivers, then Herders, then the Herbals, and lastly the Hunters. On your sixteenth birthday, you will leave here as an adult but not a voting member of the tribe. But that’s a long time from now, so just worry about today and what you need to do tomorrow for now. As you get older and bigger, we’ll add more responsibilities and bigger chores. Got it?”

“Yes, Honored Ancient.”

“Cohen did tell me that you were a good one. Keep it that way. There are more rules, but the important ones you need to know for now are to keep yourself and your things clean and tidy and to not mess with the other’s things.” The older man patted Crawler on the head and turned to head back to the front. “For today, get your things arranged, get to know the Trouble House, and get some rest.”

“Yes, Honored Ancient.” Crawler replied as he walked behind the shuffling old warrior. He entered his cubicle and sat on his cot, taking up one of the two tusks, mind a whirl. Seven days of apprenticeships, his one free day was to be spent with the Spirit Talker, and if he were good, he would get one free day in the nine-day cycle. Wallace grimaced. It would be difficult, but not unlike his time in the military some sixty years ago. “Right time, right place, right attitude” was the old saying. He could do that easily. The maturity and patience of over ninety years of life meant that six more years would not be too difficult.

He sat for some time simply enjoying the quiet of the longhouse, something that was never a thing in the Children’s House. He knew it was not something very common in Trouble House either. After some time, he sent a thought to the Trickster, “So you are my Totem Spirit?”

“Yup, the one and only. Some people bond with more than one though. I think you will have many. I am the first and greatest thought.” Replied the Trickster.

“You said that before ‘kin.’ What do you mean by that?”

“You got lucky, thrice gifted, and thrice glyphed on top of that. One of your glyphs marks you as my kin. The glyph of Cleverness is one of the glyphs of my true name, and no other Totem shares that glyph with me. Many of my children do, but they are just lesser versions of me. Pale shadows of myself, the one and only true Trickster.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me now? Isn’t the Trickster a master of lies?”

“Because as much as I want to, I cannot. By binding myself to you in the Naming Ceremony, I bound a fragment of my spirit to yours. You would know when I lied with that fragment bound to your spirit. Also, we must have trust between us for you to become mighty.” Wallace could feel the truth of this. He could feel the spirit next to his, like the feeling of his wallet in his pocket. Something that he noticed if he looked for it, but not if he wasn’t. He could feel that there was power there, a whisper of something far more significant. The breeze that smells of the storm to come.

“When you say thrice gifted, what do you mean?” Wallace asked the Trickster as he busied himself, putting his few belongings away. His tusks, pocket knife, and a collection of blue river stones all went into one of the baskets in his footlocker. He changed his clothes into the ones provided by the Ancients of the Trouble House.

“As a Lost Soul, you got to choose where you came to, and you chose here. You also got to spin the Wheel of Destiny. Somehow you got three blessings from the Wheel. Do you remember what they were exactly?”

“Second Awakening, Adept Learner, and Nine-Fold-Flower,” Wallace replied after some thought.

“Now that explains some things. Second Awakening is why the memories of Wallace can even exist with Crawler. Usually, when someone is reincarnated, all those memories are locked away; you on the other hand, get to have them and all the wisdom of an Ancient at the age of ten. Folks will think you are strange. They already do but more so now that the life of Wallace has a growing place in this body’s mind. By the time you are sixteen, you will have all of your old memories and all of this new life’s experiences in this new world.”

“Wow, okay, I can see that as a huge boon. What about Adept Learner?” Wallace asked as he explored the long house, watching as the sun sunk toward the horizon.

“That one means that you will only ever have to learn something once. You will learn new things far faster than almost anyone. Your mind will be like a hole into which folks can dump knowledge and absorb it like it was natural to you. How else do you think a ten-year-old who is not a hunter was able to cull a Spirit Beast Boar? Stories of old Cohen and his friends seeped into that tiny little child’s brain, and you took that knowledge and applied it in ways that worked for you.”

“All right, that sounds amazing. And the last one? What is Nine Fold Flower.”

“That one is much harder to explain. Lots of magic theory and whatnot to fully understand that one. For now, let’s leave that for later. You have incoming company, by the way.” Trickster said.