I won't be fooled this time, Rafael thought as he opened the Christmas present his uncle had just given him.

The wrapping paper fell to the floor, revealing a treatise composed of loosely bound printed sheets. The title proclaimed: "Perspective on Contemporary Shamanism".

It was quite an unusual present.

"What's this?" asked Rafael of his uncle, while his cousin Tiffany held back a laugh nearby.

"My new thesis that I just finished writing," Leonard said proudly. "I met an old shaman on my last trip to Siberia, and he let me watch some of his rituals. I did some research and discovered commonalities with other traditions that—"

Rafael cut him off. "I thought your ethnologist colleagues didn't want you to write about these things anymore, that you were too easily taken in by crappy New Age theories?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to," Leonard awkwardly admitted, "but that doesn't matter. Once they realize the importance of my new findings, they'll change their attitude. It's the greatest discovery since, since... Einstein's theory of relativity! When I present my thesis at the university it will make a lot of noise, you can believe me."

He's exaggerating again, Rafael thought, and what's with this comparison? He's not a physicist as far as I know!

"Sorry, Tiffany," Leonard said, "I didn't know you'd be here. I would have brought you a duplicate otherwise."

Tiffany, Rafael's cousin on his mother's side, was curled up in the lounge's corner armchair. She was a beauty: tall, shapely, with long chestnut hair, and a pair of plump cheeks that were highlighted by two lovely dimples when she smiled.

"It doesn't matter," Tiffany deadpanned, "I'm sure Rafael won't mind lending me his copy when he's finished reading it."

She's pulling my leg, Rafael realized with a smile, this little devil knows that I don't intend to read it.

Every year it was the same thing: His uncle Leonard would give him a fantastic object found during one of his trips, an old mask, a statuette, a fossilized horn... Invariably, Rafael would let his imagination run wild and let it take him on extraordinary adventures. He dreamed of belonging to an ancient tribe with secret knowledge. He pretended to have magical powers so he could protect the treasured gift. He had to lead a mission to discover legendary creatures...

The problem was that he loved magic and fantasy worlds too much. He spent so much time thinking about them that he forgot about real life. His studies in computer science, or even politics, seemed very dull in comparison. Sometimes it even made it difficult for him to interact with other people. That's why he tried to avoid anything that might arouse this passion. That was what an adult was supposed to do, right?

He was rather happy that his cousin was in the mood to make jokes though, it had not happened for a long time. Not since her parents' divorce two years ago. Her mother, Rafael's aunt, had cheated on her father and falsely accused him of violence. He wasn't allowed to see Tiffany since the verdict. She, who had loved her mother so much, could not forgive this betrayal.

Rafael had heard that the shock had been terrible, that his aunt Kristen and Tiffany had been shouting at each other for months. He couldn't imagine his cousin screaming. She was so gentle. Fortunately, her mother wasn't around for the holidays. She was spending Christmas with her new boyfriend's family. This made the vacations a real breath of fresh air for Tiffany, although one breath was not enough to live on. Rafael would have liked her to confide in him, he was convinced that it would have helped her to heal, but she kept avoiding the subject.

What a hypocrite, he thought, as if I had confided my problems with Ilona to anyone.

Rafael repressed this thought and restarted the conversation: "Anyway uncle, it's been a long time since we've seen each other. How long are you staying at home?"

"Just tonight," Leonard replied, "I have stuff planned for Christmas Day."

"That sucks," Rafael exclaimed, "we should do something together over the vacations at least. How about a laser game?" The prospect of slaughtering his uncle with laser beams seemed a much better gift than this thesis on shamanism to him.

"Okay, okay," Leonard said raising his hands to the ceiling. "I guess it can't hurt me to get a little exercise. We can do it on the 27th afternoon."

"You keep time to train, I see," replied Rafael tit for tat.

"Pfff, rubbish, even with all the training in the world, I will never match a young sporty like you."

Rafael and his uncle were actually very similar. Black hair, green eyes, the same smile... a family resemblance without a doubt. That said, if Rafael was rather fit, Leonard was thin. He also wore small round glasses and had the bad habit of hunching over. It was due to all the time he had spent bent over manuscripts in dusty old bookstores. A classic scholar in a nutshell.

"That's right, uncle," blurted Rafael with a big smile. The prospect of this outing suddenly put him in a much better mood. "I was about to go on my daily run, do you want to come along?"

"A good habit. A healthy spirit in a healthy body," Leonard laughed. "But I'll pass. Have fun."

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Rafael ran with long strides while a cold wind whistled in his ears, reddening his cheeks as it passed. It hadn't been more than ten minutes since he had started his daily run, but he was already feeling better. Running had always helped him to clear his head.

He knew that Christmas Eve would not meet his expectations this year. His mother Alice had decided that, since her sister Kristen wasn't coming, it was meaningless to put on a great spread; but that was far from being the only thing that was bothering him. Student life had turned out to be disappointing, far from the idealized representations seen in movies or manga. In truth, he had gone from one boredom to another, except that the hope that his life would become more interesting after high school was dead and buried.

But, most of all, the shadow of his breakup still haunted him. Since the summer, he had locked himself in a permanent gloom that was certainly not going to improve with this semblance of a celebration. The only thing that kept his depression at bay, temporarily at least, was his daily run.

He was in a beautiful park contiguous to a small forest, the whole of it covering almost a square kilometer. A vast body of water lay in the center, bordered by wetlands designed to attract birds. The vegetation was maintained with a concern for biodiversity, so a good half of the park was left in an almost wild state. It was not uncommon to come across animals there, which made it Rafael's favorite destination when it came to running or strolling.

Of course, there were also children's games, fitness equipment, a skate park, benches for lovers... but all of that was deserted that day. Everyone preferred to stay warm at home with their family rather than to brave the biting cold of this early winter. There was only him, the sky above him, and nature all around.

Rafael slowed his stride, disturbed by the impression that someone was watching him. His green eyes probed the vegetation in search of the undesirable without seeing anyone. Not a movement, not a sound. Maybe an animal hiding in the bushes?

Rafael shook his head. He must have been dreaming. He was about to resume his run when his gaze fell on a holly shoot growing between two bare shrubs. He smiled, and took out his cell phone. He liked to take pictures of interesting plants to post them on an online identification group. With time, he knew how to recognize most of those that grew in the park, and this holly sprout would be perfect to accompany his virtual Merry Christmas wishes.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He approached the holly to take a close-up when something jumped into his face and twitched frantically in his black hair. Rafael was startled, he made large and abrupt hand's gestures to get rid of the aggressor. A moment later, feeling a bit stupid, he regained his composure. It was just a butterfly, one that hibernated during the winter. He must have disturbed him by pushing aside the branches of the shrubs.

“It must have been you who was watching me, my little friend,” Rafael whispered. “I didn't mean to bother you”.

He quickly snapped his photo of the holly sprout, then stood there for a few moments, staring up at the sky. “I'm hibernating too,” he sighed to himself. “And I don't know how to wake up anymore.”

A gust of wind rushed into the woods and made Rafael shiver. It was time to leave. He resumed his run, moving quickly along the path, leaving behind only the cloud of mist formed by his breath.

Near the holly shoot, the butterfly had already returned to its hibernation. Everything was quiet again.

Yet, lost in the vegetation, Two bright blue lights were looking in the direction where Rafael had disappeared. The ethereal shadow had watched him carefully the whole time he was there.

Now that Rafael was gone, it zigzagged between the trees for a moment before stopping near the holly shoot. Around it, a green vibrancy shimmered in the silence. And just like this, there was nothing in the air anymore.

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Christmas Eve hadn't been as bad as Rafael had feared. His uncle's extravagance had entertained him, and Tiffany had been significantly less morose than usual. They had finished the night in front of the TV, laughing and criticizing films they had already seen a hundred times.

Well, an untimely end, it wasn't even midnight yet.

Rafael fell on his bed with a sigh. Now that he was alone, he found himself assailed by old memories of Ilona again: their first date, her smile, how it felt to kiss her… He shook his head, trying to force himself to think of something else. It had been four months since their break-up, he needed to move on! But, sadly, that was easier said than done.

He didn't understand what had happened. They were so happy together and then, overnight…

No! He had to stop ruminating. He turned, reached out, and picked up the “Perspective on Contemporary Shamanism”. Leonard's thesis would surely help him sleep. He opened the booklet at random and began to read.

All the villagers gathered in the village square to help the shaman on his spiritual journey. He was about to intercede with the spirit. They hoped that it would give them its blessing so that they would have success during the great hunt. To enable this journey, various rituals had to be followed scrupulously: to attract the spirit's attention of course, but also to thin the veil of reality so as to allow the shaman to pass into the other world.

The entire ritual lasted eight hours, although, in reality, the shaman had begun to prepare himself two days in advance with fasting and meditation. The songs and dances gained in intensity over time. It was the beating of the shaman's drum that indicated the intensity required at each step of the ritual. Regularly, the shaman's assistant gave him a secret mixture of fermented plants to drink to help him leave his body.

This continued until the whole village went into a mad frenzy. At this point, the shaman stood up, let out a piercing scream, and fell backward. He had left for the other world. This time, he remained unconscious for four hours, but from what I have been told, it could last up to two days. Beyond that, the shaman's soul would be lost. In this case, his body would be buried far from the village without ceremony. This would be a very bad omen that would show the spirit's anger.

We are not supposed to evoke other cultures during our visits so as not to contaminate our observations. However, I made an exception to this immutable rule. The Russian government had authorized a major petrochemical project a few kilometers away, therefore this isolated region of Siberia was not going to remain so for long.

I spoke to the shaman of an African tribe that I visited ten years ago and who had similar practices to theirs. The songs had the same structure but the dance was significantly different, and, above all, the shaman did not go into the spirit world. It's the spirit that had come to possess him. The shaman explained to me that the differences were due to the fact that they were not looking for the same result.

The ritual I had just witnessed in Siberia was intended to blend the essence of the men of the village with that of the spirit so that they could merge more easily into nature. Since the hunters were participating in the ritual, the spirit did not need to project himself into our world. According to the shaman, the African tribe must have rather wanted to weaken a herd of animals. It was only possible to get that blessing if the spirit incarnated himself into the shaman's body.

He seemed to disapprove of this kind of practice, and it was my understanding that a shaman practicing this ritual might lose pieces of his soul, but I was not certain about the accuracy of my translation and he never wanted to bring up the subject again.

Back in college, I checked the records and the shaman was right. The ritual was effectively meant to weaken a neighboring tribe before a punitive expedition against them. One of their warriors had raped the chief's daughter and the compensation in cattle offered in return had been deemed insufficient. I had to admit that I couldn't suppress a shudder at this discovery. If my Siberian shaman was able to correctly analyse an African ritual that he never even saw, that meant that shamanism was based on objective knowledge! And that it should be doable to reproduce these rituals anywhere, raising the possibility to observe tangible effects.

Half-asleep, Rafael dropped the thesis on his bed. It was, without a doubt, the worst Christmas present ever.