[https://i.imgur.com/gNUIv04.jpg]

And so it was that in the morning of my fourth day in the settlement I confronted Liide and demanded that he explain to me why Pashaide did not return the orbs to me. Like before, he did not say anything specific, only mentioning that they would be returned to me when I was ready to leave. And when I asked him when I was supposed to be ready to leave, he once again did not provide much explanation, only mentioning that the Shaman wanted to perform a certain ritual on me before letting me go.

“You will not be sacrificed!” he told me urgently. “You will be horaqiaed*, and nothing more.”

“What? Whatever does it mean?” I asked flaming up.

“You will understand later. Listen, do not worry, and trust meǃ I will not let any ill on you, my friend, this’ll be for your own good.”

The latter words were falling flat on me. The fear of the unknown ritual made me feel an irresistible urge to get away. I did not bother my peer with any more questions; instead, I tried to hook out any clues as to where the shaman could keep the balls. It wasn’t difficult, as Liide himself would soon mention that they most likely were to be found in his belt pocket.

With that knowledge, I, later in the day, went to the Shaman’s house and struck up a conversation. I did not have a clear understanding of what I was supposed to do, so for a time we were just sitting and talking. I was lucky, thoughː at some point Pashaide himself started talking about the orbs, mentioning that he had not been able to make them work the way I had explained.

“I throw them, but nothing happens,” he said.

“Could it be that you throw them in the wrong way?” I said, quickly thinking of what I would do next. I remembered that the yellow orb, which I had never used before, had something to do with protection. That might have been a clue.

“What is the right way then?”

“Well, I throw them with my lap going like this and my fingers curling in this way.”

I showed him the fake technique. He tried to throw the green orb and had no results.

“Maybe it has something to do with intentions?” I suggested. “For example, what do you want to get from the orb right now?”

“For example, food.”

“Maybe that’s the wrong orb for food?”

“Didn’t you say that the green one provides food?”

“I used them rarely and could have confused them,” I said in a faint attempt at lying. “Yes, now that I think about it, I might have very well confused them. I think it’s the yellow one that provides food.”

From the shadow of his place, Pashaide looked at me with a hint of doubt. “Well, try it,” he said eventually passing me the yellow rock – I saw that he was indeed keeping them in his belt pocket. He probably figured that I would not attempt to escape with only one of them, and I was determined to use this chance. I took the thing and, begging my guardian spirit for assistance, threw it on the dirt floor.

What happened then would make an amusing story itself, and if I were to hear it from somebody else, I would have agreed that it was naught but an amusing tale, and I would have praised the teller for his skill; but it was real, all very real.

When the orb hit the dirt, a figure of a man appeared in the house. I cannot describe him in a good manner, because the way he looked was not in the way any of the people I’d seen so far looked. He had a round and smooth face without any traits be it eyes, or mouth, or nose; his whole head was covered with a pitch-black cloth, and his whole body was wrapped in a pitch-black garment that reminded fish scales.

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With gasps of terror, both of us crawled away from the man, as he took out a shiny black stick that hung on his hip, and pointed it at Pashaide. I started blubbering some words to both him and the Shaman,

“No, that’s not that! Don’t hurt him… He won’t hurt you, just give him the orbs! It’s not that…”

Without saying a word the man stretched out his hand. Pashaide immediately dragged the rest of the orbs out of his pockets and dropped them into the spirit’s hand, searching for something around him with his other hand. The man then passed the orbs to me; I grabbed them and put them into my pocket. The man then put the stick back on his hip and disappeared just as suddenly and miraculously as he appeared.

Pashaide was curled up in the far part of the house, away from the light of the fire. He was now holding a wooden scoop near his chest, knocking on it with a fist and whispering something unintelligible.

“It’s not that,” I kept saying, “it’s just… I did not mean to harm you. I just need these things to be with me all the time! I do not need any harakiri… I wish you well.”

Pashaide was still curled up at the wall and knocking on the scoop when I left the house. I knew that I could not stay there anymore. I found my spear, and I grabbed a cloak that looked like mine; Liide noticed me and tried to follow, asking what was wrong. I did not answer and just hurried away from the settlement. With his injured leg, he could not keep up with me, and soon he was left behind, as I was rushing down the slopes of the Three-Heads.

***

I spent that night atop a reddish rock, away from the settlement. This was the first time that I saw the yellow orb in action. The thing was in my pocket now, and I was scared even to touch it. Who was that man? What was his power? Should I worry about that, or should I trust him, like I trusted the man who gave these orbs to me?

In any way, I received another important lesson in those several days. People’s intentions are a secret. Even with my own people, I had often gotten this feeling that their intentions were a secret to me. These people were total strangers to me, and I put too much trust in them, and I almost paid a dire price for that. I was lucky that they did not have many men in the settlement; I was lucky that Liide had an injured leg; I was lucky that this yellow ball that was given to me had this miraculous black spirit sitting inside it. I was lucky now, but I might not be lucky later, and who knows how much help that man from the yellow orb might be of then?

I must be cautious, I decided for myself. I decided to never tell anybody about the orbs anymore, and probably even about the strange man. I decided that my mission would be solely focused on getting the stories out of the folks I would be meeting, trusting only as much as necessary for my mission.

Lying on the cloak (which turned out to be not mine), I was watching the yellowish bright star (Jupiter) run across the night sky right after the reddish one (Mars). Here they call it Wandering Antelope. Back in our valleys, we call this star Firebug. Ongiliel caught the Firebug in the plains when she was looking for her husband who had previously gone away and hadn’t been returning for long. She told him to fly off and search for him, and so it did; and so it does to this day, even though the husband returned soon after that. That’s what we say, but these people say a completely different story. And what would others say?

That reddish star we call Wandering Firefinch. We say about it that it is a marvelous little bird that roams both the Lower Planes and the Sky Plane. Whoever sees it is the happiest man in the world and can be granted any wish by it. This is what we say, but what will others say about it?

Not so far away, to the northwest, lies Shoshoon** (Ursa Major) – the Sky Leopard who was put there by Ulnad himself to guard the Sky Plane. What will others tell about this place in the sky?

And on the other side of the sky was the Sky River – a huge crack filled with heavenly waters, full of marvelous creatures floating in it. I cannot even imagine what other people see there.

Lying on the cloak beside the fire, I caught myself feeling a little confused and even worried. My trip was only beginning – more revelations were on the way, as I would go further west and south. I decided that to handle them I would have to stop judging them at least for the time being. I would have to just listen to my peers and fixate on everything they would tell me. And then, later on, if I meet the weird man again, I would tell everything I had heard, and I would ask him, what of that was true and what was not.

With this conclusion, I went to sleep and I slept well until the next morning, the next step in my long journey.

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Footnotes

* - /horaˈkiəd/

** - /ʃoˈʃoːn/