Warmth filled Ajijaak. His son had a name, and by the grace of the Great Spirit he had arrived in time to witness it. He saw the small drum that hung from his child’s cradleboard, then his eyes returned to Mikinak. The older man, saw him. His face paled. He closed his mouth and stared in stunned silence. Moving toward him was his noko. Her nostril’s flared as she sniffed the air. They both knew he was present. Another also knew. He had felt Ziibi’s spirit the instant he stepped into the house. He had not expected her to be here and yet she was.

The movement of his noko toward him, would bring him attention, he did not want. He started to slip out of the dooflap but before he could, his noko proclaimed, “Ajijaak has returned to us from the Land of Souls. It is not often that a man returns. Many will hear my grandson’s story, and many will remember his valor.”

All eyes were on him now. Their eyes widened in fear. They did not think he was living they thought he was a spirit. His noko reached him, she took his hands in hers and said, “See, he is flesh.”

A gust of murmuring voices swirled around Ajijaak. He felt the strength of his noko’s hands. She pulled him to her and hugged him. When she let go he looked beyond her into the face of his mother. Confusion and shock held her still. To have lost an only child, and then to have him restored was more than she ever anticipated. Unsteadily she rose to her feet. Without asking permission she took Mikwam-amik from Mikinak. She carried the boy to his father. Her trembling hands brushed against his as she transferred the baby. Mikwam-amik gave a delighted shriek. Ajijaak had been gone so long, yet his child had not forgotten him. He drew his boy to him. His skin touched that of his son’s. Ajijaak felt his son’s soul reach out and refresh his own. The impossible had happened.

*

That evening though he tried not to, Ajijaak watched Ziibi feed his child. She had not yet spoken to him or even met his eyes. Her presence was withdrawn from him. His mother motioned for him to come outside. He followed her. The stars shone down with gentle light. A cold breeze stirred the black and gray strands of his mother’s hair. She wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears drop onto his shoulder. She did not speak. There were not words for this time when a dead son was returned to his mother. It was a gift that almost no one received. She pulled away from him and looked up into his face. “I am thankful that you have returned. Zhede, Ziibi and I have been making all the choices for your son, and now he is yours again.” Her voice dropped and she added, “I am worried about Ziibi.”

He signed, “Why?”

His mother shook her head. “She has become very attached to him. For now, let her stay. Mikwam-amik has already lost one mother, it would not be good to lose another one. At least not yet, in time you may pick another woman.”

The thought of risking love again found no place in Ajijaak. As for Ziibi, she was beautiful, young, and powerful. In his weakness, his loneliness, she would be such a temptation to him. His mother had waited a long time after the death of his father to take another. It seemed only fitting that he should do the same. And yet, after all Ziibi had done for him in his life, all she had devoted to his son, how could he tell her to just go?

By the twitch of her lips, he could tell his mother had more to say, but she held her tongue. She motioned for him to followed her back inside.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

While they were gone, Ziibi had crooned the baby to sleep. He was limp in her arms. A small trail of drool dribbled down her arm.With affection the name Ziibi echoed inside Ajijaak's heart. Once she had been his little shadow. She had witnessed some of his finest and his most horrifying moments. She was more to him than a neighbor or friend, she always had been. Her spirit and his had always been connected. He had felt it the instant his son received a name, and he felt it now. What was he to do? He watched her lay the baby down on her pallet. His eyes followed her to the pot that warmed the baby’s gruel and rice milk teat.

Ziibi told him, “He is getting his teeth, and he cries at night. Chewing on the teat sometimes soothes him.” Without another word, she climbed beneath her robes with the baby, his baby. Such longing tore through him. As grateful as he was to Ziibi, Winisik should be with their son, only she wasn’t and she never would be in this life.

Ajijaak went to his own pallet. For a long time he listened to the sweet sound of his son breathing. He did not know it, but his mother was listening to the sweet sound of her son breathing too.

*

It was strange, this new reverence that was being shown to him. He had lived always as an outcast, a broken and curse bound person. Now, he was being shown respect. If not for the bear man, he would have suffocated in his grave. He did not know how the bear man had known he was not yet dead, but he had known, and he had given him his life. The bear man had the same voice as the one who had chanted over Misko-amik’s grave. He was the one who had come to him before he had made his journey to the Land of Souls. He was the one who told him, as Ziibi had in his dream, that he must fight to return to his son. When he was strong enough to care for himself the bear man had left him. He never told Ajijaak his name or where he came from. Though he seemed made of flesh, Ajijaak was never sure if the bear man was flesh. His spirit was so very strong it seemed to defy the limits of a human body.

It had been three days since his return. This morning he was going with Zhede to fish. They needed more food for the winter now that he returned home. They would need less, once he told Ziibi she must return to her family. It would be hard to do. He saw how much she loved his son, but she was not his woman. He ached to use her to forget his pain, but he fought against this. She, who had done so much for him, deserved better. He questioned his own selfishness though. He wanted to use her, to save himself from doing so he wanted to rip the child she loved out of her arms.

In the distance Ziibi walked. He saw her making her way to her father’s house. As she progressed through the village, the eyes of many men turned to her. One man’s eyes did not leave her, Maang’s. He watched her with an intensity that concerned Ajijaak. His eyes did not leave her until she entered her father’s house. When Ziibi came out of the house carrying a basket, Ajijaak saw Maang’s eyes follow her again. When she had disappeared down the path to the river, Maang turned back to his net. As he did so his eyes met Ajijaak’s. The fire in them went out and he smiled and nodded at Ajijaak as if they were friends. The were not friends and never would be. A badness was in Maang, a badness that was directed toward Ziibi.

What was wrong with Maang? He had mated the most beautiful girl in the village, in many villages. Miinan’s face and body were like a lily upon the waters. While Ziibi was fine to look at, she did not possess her sister’s other worldly beauty. And yet, Maang, Miinan’s man lusted after Ziibi. It was wrong. In his three days there he had not once heard Ziibi mention her sister’s husband or look in his direction. In fact she always stayed as far away from him as possible. A frown creased Ajijaak’s brow. S

A small wind blew up and in the voice of the wind he heard the words Ziibi possesses power, Waabooz wanted her power, Maang does too, others will also. For the first time ever it occurred to Ajijaak that Ziibi, strong as she was, was also very vulnerable. Mikinak would never let Maang touch her when he was around. A father could not always be around. A man who wanted a woman would go to great lengths to get her. Some men had more than one partner. Some men joined themselves to more than one sister. Maang’s union with Miinan as yet had not been very fruitful. Only one girl, no otherchildren had come to them, and they had been together longer than Ajijaak had been with Wiinizik.

For several moments Ajijaak fought within himself. He so wanted to be free of Ziibi’s continual presence. If she remained with them at the winter hunting grounds he would be in even closer contact with her. The past two nights he had watched her sleep. Her eyelashes were dark crescent moons against her cheeks.The temptation to caress her would take hold of him. It had been so long since he had shared his body with a woman. Wiinizik had not wanted him after the baby came. And still burned in his mind, was the image of his woman locked in the arms of another man. Fast the questions that haunted him came. Why had she gone to that man? Why? He had heard Waabooz had a way with the girls. He had heard Waabooz took advantage of young women, much to their own delight. Why had he chosen his woman on that night, and why had she responded as she did? How had Waabooz unlocked what Ajijaak had been unable to unlock Winisik?