All that was on my mind was when and what spirit would choose me at tonight's ceremony?

We spent the day hunting at the other pools, spearing two catfish, three toad, and four salamanders. Enough to make a fine supper on the day of appointing spirits. And with our own bellies full, we'd be ready to be chosen if The Great Spirit deemed us worthy.

The festivities started, and the chants began around the village. And I along with Tuma were dressed in our finest hide robes. Beaded, with patterns of antlered and horned beasts patches on them.

All throughout the wooden teepee village, great fires roared and thrashed, alive as the spirits that rested in the woods. Soon dusk fell upon us. And it’ll only be a matter of time before the spirits would come out and choose who’d become a shaman.

I bit down, sinking my teeth into the throat of a salamander. Warm juices flowed into my mouth as I tore left and right, removing the head with a struggle and a pull. It flopped on my tongue, burning. And when it cooled I found the courage to swallow.

Tuma walked up, tugging and pulling on the head of his own. Reddening. Unable to tear the head from the body.

"Give it here," I said, holding out my hand.

Tuma riased an eyebrow. "I'm not going to eat it ..."

"You best not ... I almost died today trying to retrieve that."

I bit down on the head and tugged from right-to-left. When it gave, blood and juices filled my mouth. I spat the head into my palm and then gave Tuma that and the torso. He didn’t wait, tossing the head up and into his mouth.

“Hot … Hot … Hot …” It fumbled around his tongue. He swallowed quickly. Tears rolled down his cheeks as it slid into his gut. He coughed, “good stuff.”

"You need to learn how to use your teeth."

"But they're sensitive ..."

"That's cause you don't take care of them." I said, looking upon the yellow-black stained stones in his mouth. I grimaced. "You'll lose them before too long."

Tuma shrugged and tore into the flesh. "The wise woman has no teeth, and it doesn't seem to bother her."

"The wise woman is also over a hundred seasons old ... she didn't lose them all at thirteen like you are."

Tuma shrugged. He chomped, squirming when the juice hit his tongue.

"Come on. Let's find Onwae and Mowak.” He nodded then followed on my heels, slurping and crunching away on his salamander. I finished my own, tossing the tail into the bushes where some other beast would come and finish it off.

"Young child, watch the magic of the runes." Said a man in a long, hide robe with thick eyebrows that looked to have been singed several times over. Tuma and I walked up and found ourselves a spot in the crowd. "Can someone tell me what runes are used for?" Many hands shot up into the air. "Yes. You there. Little tribling girl."

I couldn't make out who spoke, but her voice squeaked like a chipmunk. "To enchant spirit guardians?"

"Very good!" The performing shaman said, moving up his eyebrows. "Runes can give a guardian special abilities." He rolled his fingers around a bright, red rune. He held it, shook, then opened his hand quickly. Resting in his palm was a bright red and orange ball. Around it, flames danced and flickered. Sparks rose into the air. My nostrils flared, catching the scent of burning wood. I sneezed, then wiped my nose. "This fireball can be passed to a spirit pet, and together they can cause serious injury to other spirit animals. Would you like a demonstration?" The children raised their voices and shrieked. "Very well," He chuckled. "Now. Everybody stand back."

The crowd took three large steps back. The shaman’s right side of his mouth curled. He used his free hand and grabbed at something around his neck.

Tuma corked his head and squinted. "What's he doing?"

"Grabbing his spirit totem."

Around the man's neck were several tiny wooden animal heads that made up a necklace. He pinched the rabbit head with antlers carved from wood. Between his index and thumb, he waved it across the crowd. "I call upon you, Rohop."

Expelling from the totem was a vibrant green orb. It swelled and pulsed brightly. Beating like a heart. And with a swing of his hand, the shaman casted the orb to the ground. The kids leaned forward, blinking. Tuma did the same. I chuckled.

The orb shuttered and pulsed. Shrank and stretched. Molded and formed. It then flashed a grassy greens that caught all of our eyes. Slowly it shaped a pair of long-ears and antlers, a rounded body, and two long feet in the back, and two short ones in the front.

"Can one of you youngsters tell me what I must do next?" The shaman asked, raising his right hand that cuffed the fireball.

Tuma shot his own hand into the air, pouncing.

Cast the fireball, I thought, but was much too old for these types of tricks. This was for the younglings to answer.

Tuma blurted, "cast the fireball upon the Jackalope!"

The shaman flicked his dark eyes upon the boy. A green glint swayed in his pupil while the fireball’s light cast a red gleam across his face. "Thank you for answering.“ He replied in a cold tone. “And can someone else tell me when to cast the ball—"

"While in spirit form!” Tuma leaped up and shrieked. “It’s the only way to enchant a guardian!"

The shaman's singed brows furrowed. He crossed his left arm beneath his right, glaring at Tuma. "Maybe we can allow some of the younger children to answer."

Tuma’s crooked, toothy grin, flattened. “What’s got his robe tied in a knot?” I swatted his chest and he groaned. "What was that for?"

"Because you're being disrespectful.”

"How?"

"What do you mean how? You've seen these tricks at many spirit ceremonies."

“But I didn’t know the answers then …”

I pointed to the triblings who stood a head shorter than he was. "For most of them it's their first time. Do not ruin it for them."

Tuma scratched the back of his head. "Oh ..."

The shaman kept fixated on Tuma for a moment longer. He shook his head and swore beneath his breath. Suddenly his eyes grew upon the fireball steaming in his hand. He groaned, "I bind this fireball to this guardian." And with a grunt, he threw his right arm forward. The fireball soared through the sky. A streak of fire behind it. The spirit animal stood on his hind feet greeting the fireball with his chest. Flashes of reds, oranges, and greens illuminated the stage. Scorching, fusing and electric sounds echoed off into the night. And when faded, the spirit animal stood in a glowing, firey aura.

I closed my eyes and raised my hand, shielding my face against the light.

The shaman shouted, "I command you into flesh form!"

The spirit pet made a loud squeak as the flames engulfed him. The crowd gasped. When the flames died, there wasn't a blackened, charred carcass lying on the ground. It was a white ball of fur with two long ears and a pair of antlers. It looked upon us with fiery red eyes. Nose twitching.

"Hello there," the creature said, bowing his head. "I am Rohop … and I am a guardian."

The youngest triblings gasped and pointed. Their excited whispers carrying over the crowd.

The shaman smirked and said, "You see there, children ... the jacklope has not been harmed ... but enchanted."

Tuma's eyes were large as the kids while his curled smile could bring a young tribling to nightmare.

The shaman pointed, "now carry on to the next booth for another amazing display!."

"Can we go too?"

"You've seen this for the last three years," I said, shaking my head. "Next they show you how to capture a spirit guardian, and then how to battle them. It's all staged. Nothing like being out in the wild, facing real shaman, and real guardians."

Tuma frowned, reddened, and snapped. "But I like it."

"Do what you like," I said. "I'm going to find the girls—"

"Found one."

I followed his gaze to a girl with wavy black hair and almond eyes. In her hand was a wooden jar, carved with many grizzly faces. She handed it to a tall, thinly muscled man who had her same wavy black hair and almond eyes.

"Look there," Tuma said. "Onwae is helping her father."

"I didn't know they were part of the ceremony." I walked in that direction. Tuma clapped excitedly behind me. "Looks like you get your wish after all ... too see another demonstration."

The man asked, "Onwae, please hand me that jar of yours." She did as her father requested. "Now watch closely, tribling.

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When the crowds focus was drawn on him, I snuck up on my tippy-toes. "Pst," I whispered, waving a hand. She looked in my direction, and scooted over, trying to keep her father from noticing. Thankfully he was to preoccupied with waving his hand over the jar. I asked, "When can you leave?"

"Save me ..." She frowned. I chuckled loud enough for our ears only. "My father asked me to be his assistant at the last minute. My uncle, smoke too much ceremonial weed, and is now chuckling in a teepee at the back of the cottage. Father said he's not to come out until he's restored his pride." We laughed.

I looked over at her father. He lifted the jar and said. "release the orb!"

Onwae stood still until his eyes narrowed upon her. She reddened, "oh, yes, father!" Kneeling , she pulled a wooded pin from a wooden box. A green orb took to the sky. Spinning. Racing off to reach the stars in the distance.

Her father followed it with his eyes while yanking a white rune from his belt. He tossed it into the jar.

"When a spirit animal dies he becomes an orb to float back into the life force where it will be reborn anew." He pointed the jar in the direction of the orb. "But children, if you capture them before they return, you can bind the orbs together, creating your own guardians."

Her father clenched his teeth as the jar shook in his hands. A white gust spun around the top, as air drew inside. The orb fought against the pull. Looping around and around. It was no match for the power of the rune. Likely a low powered spirit. It gave to the force and shot back into the jar. Her father placed a lid on top and raised it for all to see.

"And now you have a spirit orb ... But be warned, that this is only a common guardian. To use it you must bnd it to a totem," he pointed to his neck where a necklace of wooden beast heads hung. "or it will never obey you."

The crowd cheered. Tuma clapped above the rest. "Amazing performance," He yelled. Onwae's father glared at him. Tuma was never a performers favorite.

"Now go to the next booth and watch a real live battle!"

"Real." Onwae laughed. "If only it were real ... Muwak would love to see that."

"She does have a thing for blood and gore."

Onwae giggled, then turned towards her father. "My work here is done ... I'll see you before the choosing ceremony."

He smiled and pecked her cheek. "You be safe now ... Kai, watch after her. And keep that Tuma boy away ... he and his whole family are a bunch of angry troublemakers."

"I'll see to it."

Now a party of three, we headed off with the crowd where we hoped to find Mowak. It was no secret she loved watching spirit guardians battle. And that's where we found her. Standing crossed armed, face twisted. She glared at the two shaman on the stage duel.

"This is worse than last year ," She shook her head, "At least when we came in they could wound the shaman ... now it's only the guardians that take the damage."

I looked upon the stage at a boy and a girl only a few years older than we were. They had on their black shaman robes, and yellow bands around their head, showing that they were tracker class of shaman.

Two fierce creatures stood on opposite ends of the stage. One a red and orange, three-tailed fox and the other, a giant greenish-black beetle, with mandibles large enough to tear through a limb.

Onwae asked, "Is that ...

I looked upon the girl who was a year older than we were. Even young she stood tall and confident. Her hair an earthy brown, that was braided, and hung past her hips. Her robe was an elegant, tan deer hide, filled with beads and patches of three tailed foxes. And her skin was a golden complexion that made her appear even more beautiful. Looking upon her, nobody could mistaken who she was … the shaman to the three tailed fox … and the daughter of our chief daughter ...

"Meeka?"

I nodded slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. It was a year ago and still the wound of her leaving made my chest throb. She was a year older than us. But we all stuck together. All seven of us. Before Juk, Garnak, and Meeka were taken to Spirit Ridge. Now I hardly recognized her, and wouldn't have done so if Onwae never said anything.

------

In front of me, a mother told her son, “you see, Tonki, in a battle you cannot kill the spirit guardians … only weaken them. In order to defeat the opponent, you have to defeat the shaman … for the shaman holds the true power.”

The boy’s lips raised, revealing his two, bunny-sized teeth. “That is so neat. I want to be an elder shaman too one day.”

His mother giggled. “The two battling are only you shaman … they too have a lot to learn … but if you truly want to be a shaman, you’d more want to be like our chief Kawahka or the great elder Memahkota.” She pointed to the men standing erect, arms crossed and hidden in the sleeve of their robes. Each with a warbonnet, with feathers of black and gold, wearing stoned-look faces. “They are true shaman. The strongest in all the land.”

I glanced at the men I aspired to be. Strong men. Respected men. Who were bound to the majestic three-eyed eagle and the wise Aramdoth. I’d prayed many times to The Great Spirit that he give me a guardian with as much strength, courage, and wisdom as they possessed. One that would not abandon me as Panchu did his shaman. But stand by me even in the darkest parts of the shadow territory.

Suddenly, the beetle mandibles snapped open, and it lunged towards the fox. Tuma laughed. “The three-tailed fox is a goner …”

Not so fast, I thought. Where the beetle is strong, the three tailed-fox is quick. “I’ll bet you two arrowheads the fox takes the beetle.”

Tuma reddened, and clenched a fist. “You’re on!”

The fox sat still until the mandibles snapped. In a blur, the fox was at the beetle’s rear. The boy raised his hand and screamed, “Mylock, look out!” It was too late. The fox lunged forward, bashing the beetles rear, turning him belly up.

I held out my hand and Tuma swore as he placed two arrowheads into my palm. “These battles are staged …”

Mowak shook her head. “Pathetic. They didn’t even battle using the power of runes.”

“It can be too violent for the little ones.” Onwae said. “That’s why they’ve changed the ceremonies. It is no longer only for shaman.”

Mowak spat. “That’s because they know it’s a good time to make trades with everybody attending.” She pointed to the trading booths. “Love over there. Lines out the door.”

“Can you blame them?” I said to her. “There has been less trading with all these shadow attacks as of late. And sighting of strange monsters in the woods have everybody on edge … why do you think we are told to always stick together.”

Tuma gulped. “I heard there were grim spirits …”

“There you go, lying again.” Mowak shook her head. “The great fabler of our time.”

“It’s not a lie, you no-good-rotten-shawitch!”

Onwae looked up at me with her bright, almond brown eyes. “What do you think, Kai? Could there be grim spirits out here?”

I rubbed my head and nodded. “Yes,” I replied. “There is whispers in the wind, and it is why we can only go to the springs.” I turned towards the forest. “Something is out there … and it has brought fear into the minds of our elders and the chief.”

Mowak said in a hollow tone. “I hope they come … would give this place a bit of excitement.”

”You can’t be serious.” Onwae said, grabbing Mowak’s shoulder. “Even joking could bring curses upon our village.”

She pulled away and shrugged. “Maybe that’s where I belong … with the cursed and the damned of the shadow territory.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Why?” She grabbed her rubbed her short hair. “The Great Spirit will probably have the guardians pass on me ... and if I want to be a shaman, I’ll have to go to the wicked and the cursed to become one.”

Onwae lowered her head, “I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemy.”

“Cut it out, Mowak.” I said, examining the two arrowheads in my hand. Tuma was not good at much, but his arrowhead skills were the best in the village. Each stone beaten to a fine point. “You know talk like that upsets Onwae.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m only kidding …”

Tuma whispered, “Is it true that Dark Shamans use hex runes instead of spell runes on their guardians?”

Onwae forehead wrinkled. “Grim spirits are not guardians! They’re monsters!”

I tucked the arrowheads in my pocket. “I agree. But to Dark Shaman, grim spirits are their guardians.”

“Hey, look over there.” Tuma said. “They’re starting the spirit dance.” He raised his hand at Mowak. “Care to be my partner?”

“I don’t dance—”

He grabbed her hand and pulled. “I’ll show you.” Before Mowak could protest, they were off being swallowed into the crowd.

Onwae waddled up to me, her hand at her front. “Would you care to dance? I’ve heard that the better the dance, the better the chance to earn a guardian.”

My lips curled, and I chuckled. “Only with you … you’re the most sure-stepped in the whole tribe.”

She giggled and took my hand. Together we were drawn like moths to the great flames at the center of the village. The sky blackened as the moon peaked above the forest, giving our dance light. Drums and flutes kept rhythm with our feet. Onwae and I moved as one, pouncing and spinning as we made our way into the group, chanting and circling the fire, and twisting and pivoting our bodies into the images of bears, wolves, and other beasts that mirrored the other tribe’s folk:

The spirits come. The spirits come.

With the wind, and the beat of drums.

The spirits come. The spirits come.

To bound our souls, and make us one.

Their Guardians!

Who make us strong.

Their Guardians!

Our right and wrong

Their guardians!

Who pull us along,

To turn us into spirit shaman!

We chanted.

From the forest, green and blue orbs floated and spun, guided by the music, and fighting against the wind and the pull of the life force. They drew in from every direction, in every size, from small as a stone to as big as a boulder. Glowing as vibrant as stars.

I glanced into Onwae’s eyes, following her, moving our bodies with the elegance of two bears before they mate. I shifted and shook, raising my hands above my head, holding the mantis pose. Then crouched low, placing my hands on the ground, moving my body side-to-side, sly as a fox. From there, I lept, tucking my legs in and flapping my arms, strong, valiant as the eagle. Onwae mirrored me, with the butterfly, the lynx, and the swan. At the end, we did our final poses. She crouched, arms behind her back, waving them gracefully like a ladybug. And I stood tall, chest out, fingers firm and like claws, while I twisted my face into a grizzly expression, holding the pose of a bear.

The drums stopped. We halted. And above us, the orbs floated twenty feet above the flames. Around us was a thick silence. I held my breath while the young, the old, and the unworthy stepped out of the ring of people, leaving those ready to be bound if chosen. Onwae took my hand, looking into the woods.

The rest of the villagers vanished inside their teepees. To be unworthy and to be seen by the guardians was a great sin. One that came with a curse of a short, painful death. I shivered at the thought.

“They’re coming …”

The ring of children looked at one another. Some with their jaws rattling, others their legs. Then some stood chin high and chest out. Mowak was one of them, while Tuma held himself and shivered, trying to hide the terror in his eyes. Onwae fiddled her fingers in front of her. And I did hold of my grizzly pose. But inside, I felt the fear of a boy, and not the young man I was supposed to be.

Tuma whispered, “I heard it hurts when it binds to you …”

“Quiet …” I said, furrowing my eyebrows.

To speak is another sin … one that could cost us our chance. But Tuma was never thrilled about becoming a shaman. He preferred mining runes, but all his family members were shaman, so he’d had to take up the role as the others had.

A blur flew above the village, causing the orbs to spin in a whirl, and gust to rile the flames, our hair, and our robes. Onwae squeezed, harder than a talon, yet I welcomed the pain. It took away the fear clouding my head. And then came a loud shriek that echoed off into the night.

Mowak watched the shadow above. "It's the three-eyed eagle!"

Large and small creatures ascended from the woods. Guardians. Monsters with bear heads on sloth bodies, antlers on foxes, wings on rabbits, snake tails on beavers. There was lynx's that stood on two legs. Falcons that had a wolf frame. And bugs the size of humans, buzzing, and crawling. The shrieks, cries, roars, and clicks that followed were enough to bring nightmares to any tribling.

One by one, the monsters came towards the flames. Towards us. Surround on all sides. And when they drew close, their fleshy, hairy, scaley, and feathery bodies slowly faded into glowing reds, oranges, greens, and blues apparitions.

I braced myself, taking a large breath, expanding my chest outward. And then they came in their spirit form, pushing against the chests of each child, and vanishing within them. The kids cried out, then collapsed, as a wooden headed totem fell at their feet.

It happened quickly. Two dozen kids lay on the ground, each one tweaking and twisting, as the creatures bound to their spirits, leaving only those unworthy left standing. I looked down upon Onwae, Mowak, and Tuma as they squirmed, fighting the spirit within them. Their grunts and cries echoing in the night.

But what about me? Why am I not in agony? I quickly realized that I was the only one in our party who was still left standing ... left standing forgotten … left standing alone … and left standing unworthy of being chosen.