Ava's Chronicle - Sanctuary II
The coastal forests along the Nyakii River are among the wonders of the universe. Towering spruce, fir, and cedar, some reaching heights of nearly a hundred meters, grow from the rich soil, and every inch of ground is covered in ferns, moss, and undergrowth of every type. The rain and coastal fog leave everything in a perpetual state of damp and wet, and everything, from rifle barrels to clothing, had to receive special treatment to repel rust and rot.
Their new home was beautiful, it was safe, it was sheltered from the worst of the winter storms, the Clan having set up camp right along the edge of the forest, near the river. However, everything depended on the salmon, on the food supply they so desperately required to see them through the coming winter. Summer was past the midpoint, by several weeks... the salmon spawn would be winding down... would the salmon be there?
Kyllsa Siikanen walked quietly through the water, carefully picking her way, barefoot, across the smooth stones of the riverbed, the current gently pressing on her belly and legs complicating the effort somewhat. Kyllsa had been doing this now for over twenty years, and, while she was a notoriously horrible hunter, at fishing, she had few equals.
She watched the water, her eyes alert for the sudden flash of silver, the sunlight shining off of the fish beneath the water. She saw the flash, thrust the spear, instinctively, and withdrew a fat, sea-fresh salmon of almost 10 kilos.
“Thank you!” Kyllsa called to the sky, smiling. All around, salmon flashed, splashed in the shallows, and jumped. The unimaginable numbers of fish that were present at the height of the run had passed, but the river still held more than enough to enable the Star-Fire to store away plenty. Before long, other members of the clan, including Avlynka and Uro, waded and fished, and on the bank, the rest of Kyllsa's “family”, Tarja and Olno, Sukki and Jonn, cleaned their catch and smoked them, carefully, the scent of woodsmoke and salmon filling the Nyakii Valley.
Kyllsa's kenkii was at the very edge of the camp, beneath the immense sheltering limbs of an enormous fir, and she slept soundly, listening to the wind rustle through its branches. She blinked awake, sitting up and stretching her arms high overhead, wiggling her fingers. She tossed her blankets aside and jumped up, immediately stepping into a long, heavy dress, buckling it closed. Her small fusion stove had not yet been set up, and the night's chill filled her home.
She expertly wove her way through the maze of hanging wind chimes, dreamcatchers, and totems hanging in her house, scarcely brushing one of them as she made her way to the door. She pulled on her boots, and stepped out into the freezing early morning air.
She walked perhaps twenty steps from her door, and vomited.
Kyllsa stood, her hands on her knees, hunched over. In an instant, she had gone from feeling fine, to feeling deathly ill; nauseous, feverish, sick. Slowly, her stomach settled, and she staggered back to her house, seeking fresh water and her toothbrush.
After a good toothbrushing and a small-very small-breakfast of one little piece of smoked salmon and a bit of bread, she walked to the river, to a flat stone she had come to enjoy the view from. The sun had risen, and its light and warmth beat the chill back beneath the trees, her rock nice and warm to the touch. She sat down and just rested, relaxing, quietly watching the world.
They had been at Nyakii for almost two weeks, and their fishing had been productive. She thought about her spear, laying lazily on the grass beside her, but decided that, for today, she could afford a day of rest, of laziness... especially after the morning's illness.
“Third morning in a row...” Kyllsa murmured softly, speaking to no one in particular.
A mink scurried through the rocks on the far bank of the river, here and there poking its head beneath some exposed tree roots, or beneath a stone, searching for morsels to eat. She smiled as she watched the small creature, its energy, its form... she could sense its tiny spirit, that part of all living things that is not merely physical, as she began to drift into a trance.
The spiritual manifestation of the valley was incredible; the dense forest, the fertile river, the lush undergrowth... life was everywhere, in unbelievable quantity. The trees, the fish, the minnows and birds and moss... and her. Her spirit, slightly different from the rest... slightly off.
She examined herself closely, trying to determine the cause. “The illness,” she thought, “whatever has been making me sick.” She looked, peered into herself, thinking that perhaps she had picked up some sort of parasite, or perhaps a touch of a stomach virus...
Then she saw it, there, inside, protected and warmed deep within her body, nestled safely above her pelvis... a second spirit. A tiny, vibrant, human spirit.
She blinked and the spirit world rushed away, back into the shadows as Avlynka sat down beside her and said, “Good morning.”
“I am not an invalid...” Kyllsa complained with a sigh. “I can help.”
“Its fine!” Sukki replied cheerfully, hobbling along on her brace-wrapped ankle. “You just be careful and take it easy, alright?”
Jonn scribbled furiously in his notebook at ever opportunity, holding it beneath his arm, pressed against his ribs, whenever Sukki would hand him another of Kyllsa's belongings, hanging them carefully from the frame poles in the Surionens' kenkii. He laughed as Kyllsa ran her fingers through her hair in obvious frustration. “Seems awful early into the pregnancy for complete rest, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Kyllsa replied sharply. “Women have been having children for... well, for as long as there have been women! I can help move my own belongings.”
Uro gently handed Kyllsa a folded bundle of her clothing, and quickly scurried back outside, away from the fierce glare she shot him, as Jonn's curiosity overpowered him. “Shaman?” he asked, a bit nervously.
“Yes?” Kyllsa replied, her voice carrying a hint of annoyance.
“Why, um, are you staying with the Surionens, now?” Jonn asked. “I am sorry if it is something that should be obvious, but... well, it is unusual, where I am from.”
Kyllsa quietly walked to the small corner of the kenkii she had been given and placed her clothing on top of a stack of crates. “Where you are from, women bear their children alone?” She replied, the annoyance in her voice replaced by utter confusion.
“I suppose that they do, in some cases.” Jonn sheepishly answered.
Kyllsa frowned as she thought about it. “Barbaric. Well, we certainly do not.” she said proudly. “If I were married, I would not be alone, of course, but... as I am not, I will stay with Tarja and her family.”
“I see...” Jonn replied, scribbling in his notebook again.
Kyllsa walked over and gently placed her hand onto his notebook, interrupting his writing. “Jonn, there is a time to write, and there is a time to listen.” she said quietly.
Jonn nodded after a short, contemplative pause. “Yes, Shaman. I suppose there is.”
The two sat down, out of the way of the people busying themselves with the relocation of Kyllsa's belongings, and for several minutes, quietly watched the goings-on, until, once again, Jonn's curiosity overwhelmed his timidness. “Shaman?” he asked.
“Yes?” Kyllsa replied.
“Tell me something.” Jonn asked, smiling nervously.
Kyllsa laughed. “I imagine that they will not tell me not to, hmm?” Kyllsa got comfortable, and asked Jonn to bring her a cup of hot water, which he promptly did. “Well...” Kyllsa began, gingerly placing a couple of pinches of a strong-smelling tea into the cup of steaming water, “... where would you like me to begin?”
“This place.” Jonn asked. “Nyakii. What can you tell me about it?” One of the most common topics in his college courses about the Minmatar people-which he had since learned were almost always incorrect-was the reverence that the Matari held for their homeland. He had heard the Star-Fire mention Nyakii as though it were a person, always using the polite form of their language when addressing or speaking of it, and he was eager to learn more.
Kyllsa took a sip of her tea and nodded happily. “Nyakii!” she exclaimed. “Of course... you do not know, do you?”
“Nope.” Jonn replied, grinning. “But I am ready to learn by listening.”
“Nyakii was one of Matar's first children, one of the first of the Sebiestor people to move to the Ko'mak.” Kyllsa said, smiling. “Back when Matar and her children were much closer than they are today. Nyakii was a shaman, the Clan-shaman of one of the first Clans to come to this place.”
Jonn nodded and staunchly resisted the almost instinctive impulse to reach for his notebook.
“The Krusual and the Sebiestor have been enemies since Matar brought us into being, and then, as with us, that Clan had come here, seeking safety from their enemies.” Kyllsa paused while Sukki handed her a small wooden box, which she set off her lap before continuing. “The Krusual had a shaman too, and he was a sly one. He summoned the spirits of Wind to send a powerful windstorm, so strong that it blew the Sea onto the Land, to drown the Sebiestor.”
Jonn's failure to notice Sukki sitting down beside him showed how deeply his attention was focused on Kyllsa and her tale.
Kyllsa took another sip of tea and winked at Olno and Tarja as they sat down next to Sukki. “Nyakii heard the Wind, so she quietly spoke to Matar, and asked that she protect her and her people from the storm. Matar answered, and the huge trees, the cedars and spruce and firs, grew all along the coast, so tall and strong, their stands so dense, that Wind could not uproot them.”
Avlynka quietly took her place behind her parents, kneeling so that she could peek over the heads of her sister and father.
Kyllsa continued the well-rehearsed tale. “So the Krusual shaman tried a second time; he called upon the spirits of the Sky to send a terrifying storm to the coast. The storm rolled in, its clouds thick and black, and the lightning was so intense and frightening that all of the animals and birds fled, and hail to destroy all the shrubs and vines, leaving the Sebiestor with nothing to eat.”
Uro quietly sat down next to Avlynka, gently taking her hand. After a brief pause to let everyone get comfortable, Kyllsa began again. “Nyakii asked for help again, and this time she asked that Matar provide food for our people. Matar responded, and the salmon began to swim up the rivers, and have continued to do so every year, to ensure that our people have plenty to eat.”
Jonn smiled, as slowly, he began to understand.
“Sometimes,” Kyllsa said quietly, “Matar would of course provide for the Krusual too, as they are also her children, but she always has ensured that we are safe here, that we have what we need to get through the winters. Matar provides, but she plays no favorites.”
Kyllsa finished her story, and everyone slowly returned to their tasks, moving the rest of her few possessions into the Surionens' kenkii. When night came, Avlynka and Uro went to stay in their small temporary home-the Shaman's kenkii would remain unoccupied until Kyllsa was ready to move back in-and, one by one, they all lay down to go to sleep. Olno and Tarja retired to their bedroom, and after perhaps an hour more, Sukki, Jonn, and Kyllsa lay down to sleep, all sleeping on blankets in the front room. Sukki and Jonn whispered to one another, but Kyllsa paid them little mind as she grew sleepy, her eyelids heavy.
Kyllsa's last thought as she drifted off to sleep was whether Sukki was intending to press her knees into her back all night.