Three days before his sixteenth birthday, Wallace’s 98th year of life, Ancient Sandvine called him aside. “Crawler, it has been a pleasure to watch you mature and grow. All though you have been a bit too perfect. This is the Trouble House, and yet we have had no troubles from you at all. Get a life boy! Life is too short to be so serious all the time!” The old man nearly screamed. Stunned by this outburst, Crawler froze before Sandvine began laughing. “Crawler, you are a good kid, the best, and I wish more were like you. Take it from this old man; you need to find a path to truly enjoy your life. I want you to promise me something.”
“What is it Ancient?” Crawler asked curiously.
“Go on the Long Walk. Get out of the Colri Lands and experience the world. You are called to greatness, and these lands will never be enough to contain that.” Sandvine said, suddenly serious again.
“I promise Ancient Sandvine. It has been my intention all along.” Crawler said.
“Good, now it is time to prepare you for your Ceremony of Passage. Here are the things you need to cleanse yourself properly. You will be fasting today; you may only drink this tea or water until the ceremony.” Sandvine handed a small pouch of herb to Crawler. “But not too much of the tea, only one cup in the morning. Otherwise, you may regret it. Go see Blackfinger today and speak with her regarding your tattoos; she will be the one to mark you.” The geometric totemic tattoos of the Colri were the mark of adulthood among the people of the plains.
“Yes, Ancient, I’ll go there now.” Crawler replied and departed the Trouble House. He fairly skipped across the planks to the tall black-planked hut. It was set high in the center of the town, a small round house centered on one of the highest poles. He climbed the ladder to the landing before the door and knocked on the ink-stained wood door.
Blackfinger was something of an outlier in the Village. She was almost a recluse, not leaving her small home very often. She was known to every adult in the village and had been around for a very long time. She had given the Ancient's their totemic tattoos and still looked the same as she ever had. She was well thought of by the people of the Village but no one truly knew her well, she had no known friends. Longtooth had spoken of her as a close friend but the two had never been seen together by anyone, at least according to the talk of the other adults that Wali knew. To most she was simply the nice woman that tattooed everyone for their bindings, or simply for grins.
“Yes, I’m coming, Crawler.” Said the voice of the inkmistress Blackfinger. The door opened to reveal a raven-haired beauty of a woman. Middle-aged, tall, and fine-boned, her skin was marked from scalp to the tops of her feet in one continuous swirl of tiny geometric patterns depicting hundreds of totem spirits. She was the tribe’s master of tattoos, especially ones infused with the Spirits. “The Ancients told me of your coming, and so did Spirit Talker. Come inside.” She stepped aside, and the circular hut was lit by an array of crystals and glass that glowed brightly, mirroring the daylight. A curtain separated the back half of the hut from the front, a simple sheet of white linen painted with the familiar geometric totem pattern. To the left of the door was a cot with a mat of woven grass covering it. A simple three-legged stool sat between it and the wall. Next was a set of shelves with collections of combs, tappers, inkwells, and a pile of folded white cloths. On the right was a broad ink-stained desk. The walls were covered in sheets of paper, all covered in black and white art of many different styles depicting an even wider array of images. A small brazier sat next to the desk; a small iron pot sat in the coals. The fragrant steam rising from it smelled of the sea, the forest after a fire, and something Crawler couldn’t recognize. She smiled and waved him to the cot. “Sit, young one. We must first prepare you and see what the spirits tell me.”
Crawler stepped over to the cot and sat. “What do you mean by prepare? I’ve started my fast. What else is there?”
She smiled and chuckled. “There are several things. First, I need your measurements so I can prepare the art, I need some of your blood to prepare the ink, and I need to see your totem spirits, so I know what to draw.”
“Oh, all right.” Crawler replied. “I’ll stop asking questions and do as I am told.”
“No dear, feel free to ask questions. But you will still need to do as you are told. We can talk and work.” She said, smiling. “Cohen said you were a good one.”
“Ancient Cohen?”
“Yes, Sandvine and Nan also have told me of you. You have quite the reputation, and the rumors of your aptitudes are great.”
Taken aback, “People talk about me that much?” Crawler asked.
She gave him a flat look, “The child who drew three glyphs at ten and is personally tutored by the Spirit Talker. Of course, the whole village knows your name. Now off with your clothes and stand on the stool.” He gave an apprehensive look at the beautiful woman. “I’ve seen every person in the village naked at some time or another, you a but a child, and I need to see your body so that the ink will tell me where it wants to go.”
Wallace fairly cackled in the back of his mind the idea that he, of all people, was being shy. He was play-acting to keep the idea that he was simply a 15-year-old boy. Blackfinger was a gorgeous mature woman he would have happily tried to woo in another life. This was the way of the Colri, and he was excited about the experience. The Colri had been an eye-opener in how a peaceful but powerful society could operate. Their ways would not work in most places, but it was almost paradise here. He shrugged out of the well-patched shirt and pants. Stripping off his undergarments, he stood on the stool. His lean but well-muscled frame was deeply tanned. The scar from his encounter with the Spirit Boar was pale against his skin, a long line going up his bicep and shoulder. There were other scars, but none of them were as significant.
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She examined him and took a ball of twine from her pocket and a piece of paper from the desk. A stick of charcoal was produced, and she began taking his measurements, much like a tailor would. Shoulder to the wrist, the circumference of forearm, wrist, and bicep. Chest, belly, and neck. Smooth and professional, she was swift and impersonal and only spoke to have Crawler lift an arm or move a foot. Her face was critical and calculating. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she scribbled down numbers in a curving script. When she was finished, she had Crawler sit on the stool after dressing himself.
She looked at him, “You are in fine shape for someone so young. Please bring out your totems, one by one.”
Crawler closed his eyes and felt the connection to the Totems; they were there immediately. He called forth Water Moccasin first. The thick-bodied triangular-headed snake slithered down from his pant leg to coil in front of him. The Totem was semi-transparent and moved naturally. Her eye widened as she turned to the desk and made a quick sketch with a piece of charcoal. “You are impressive. Few can call forth such a distinct totem at 15.” The charcoal scratched across the page, her hand moving quickly as her tattoos began to emit a pale light. When she turned to look back at him, he could see the white glow coming from her eyes. She slid aside the sketch and said, “The next?” The snake slithered into the air as a wisp of smoke disappearing. A low hissing grumble filled the space as the eyes and nose of the Crocodilian seemed to rise out of the floor.
She gave the totem a flat look. Blackfinger did not address Crawler, but the spirit like it was a recalcitrant child, “No hiding, I must see all of you to record your glory on this boy of yours.” Crocodilian snapped its jaws but rose out of the floor like it was climbing up the river bank. Easily two meters long; it had been half this length a few years ago. That was part of the thing with Totem Spirits; they grew in power with those they were bonded to. Blackfinger smiled, “That’s a good girl. Now be still for a moment.” Crawler sat quietly. Only Spirit Talker had ever addressed the Totem spirits this way. Crawler knew they were intelligent beings. Blackfinger must have magic that enables her to communicate with them like Crawler and Longtooth. Again the inkmisteress’s hand flew across another page of paper, quickly sketching the scaly beast.
She nodded to Crawler, and he released the shy spirit. It sank below the plank floor. “Do you have more?”
A grunt and a squeal filled the room, and the sound of charging hooves filled the air. A scent of the savannah carried in with the Boar that seemed to burst through the wall. Blackfinger raised a tattooed finger, “I’ll have none of that.” She said firmly to the spirit, which grunted in response. The heavy-chested boar was the size of a mastiff, and its short bristle-covered tail wagged energetically. “Yes, you are a strong one, aren’t you? Very proud, very strong.” She said to the spirit. Her glow increased some as she drew another sketch. The boar dashed off through the wall, and the Nighthawk Owl swooped in through a window and landed atop Crawler’s head. It pecked at his hair and bit his ear. He could only smile. While each totem had personality, the Nighthawk Owl was on another level. Like a brassy parrot, Crawler often had to cajole the bird or reward it with something shiny or meaty in exchange for acting on his behalf.
Blackfinger was quiet, “A Nighthawk Owl? I have only ever known one other with this Totem. She left on a Long Walk and has yet to return. Perhaps in another decade she will come home.” There was a hint of a missed friend in her voice. She watched the bird pick at Crawler’s hair and caught the eye of the totem, which looked deeply into her own eyes. The moment hung in the air when suddenly the owl leaped off Crawler’s head and flew out the window. Blackfinger laughed and turned to her sketching. “There’s a reason those birds do not bond with many. You must have a strong old soul, Crawler.”
When she finished the fourth drawing, she turned a critical eye back to him. She raised an eyebrow, and her mouth was a tight flat line. The white glow that came off of her was stronger; her eyes were as bright as the sun through frosted glass. “With the Wily One come out?” She said with a voice that carried both reverence and dismay.
Crawler sat there for a moment. He was blinking in surprise. Not even Spirit Talker knew of Trickster, who had sworn Crawler to secrecy early in their bond. Somehow she had seen the Totem spirit. “I don’t know.” He said in worried confusion. He felt a prickling of something crawling down his sleeve and onto the back of his hand. The tiny spider reared up like the inkmistress threatened it.
She eyed the spider and then Crawler, “That one is dangerous, I hope you know.” She winked at him and said to Trickster, “Yes, Revered One, I know who you are. Your secrets will remain here.” The tiny spider waved its legs and scuttled back up into his sleeve.
Trickster said in his mind, “Don’t make her mad. She is something else.”
Blackfinger smiled at Crawler, “Relax, young one, The Wily One and I go back a long time. Don’t allow that one to lead you astray. He is known for shenanigans and hi-jinx.”
Crawler smiled, “I know he is. So far, he has only been a teacher to me. I think the shenanigans will be for later.” He said wryly. Trickster gasped in mock surprise and shock in his mind.
“Now, I need a few things from you. Or rather, you need to gather a few things for me. I have seen your totems, and you will need to gather everything quickly, so we do not have to rush the marking process. Go to the river, borrow a canoe, and paddle down into the delta with this token.” She handed him a wooden disk marked with a series of glyphs around the edge. “At the first marker of the lizardfolk, leave this token. Return to that marker in a few hours, and they will leave a satchel for me. I don’t care what you do during that time, but you must not be there. The lizardfolk shamans are very shy. We have an agreement for an exchange of goods. They will not come and exchange this token for the things I need with you in the area. Bring me the bag this evening when you return.” She stood and dismissed the boy, who hurried off.