by Damon Glatz
“Oh, he’s ready.” She forced a smile “I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
Akando frowned. “Because, I can explain to the elders… We can wait another year. If—”
“No” She interrupted “No he can do it.”
“It’s going to be harder for him. Not having a father to teach him what it’s like, not having many friends to learn with. It’s not his fault—”
“No, I said he’s ready,” Johanna repeated. “He’s just as strong as anyone else… Braver too.”
“All right, if you say so.” Akando gave a nod and turned away. “Let me know if you change your mind before nightfall…”
She shook her head slowly. “I won’t.”
Chapter Two:
One Last Meal
Ohitekah kept himself busy as the sun continued to set, there was always something to do. The buffalo needed to be preserved and relocated, the elders needed help setting up their camps, pens for the horses needed to be built, and the bonfire needed to be prepared. The villagers mistook his assistance as an act of charity. In reality he was trying to distract himself from his worries of tomorrow. Their gratitude was an unintended bonus.
The tribe was more than used to relocating. This was their life, a part of their routine. They traveled together on the plains in an eternal search for food and water. The breakdown and buildup of camp was a ritual committed on an almost daily basis.
The nomadic village was comprised mostly of pointed tipis. These small conical houses were made of simple wooden poles and leathered skins. They were the most basic of living conditions, easy to build and deconstruct, yet stable enough to provide shelter. Every family had their own collapsible home, fully customized with personal artwork on the exterior. There were several dozen tipis in use in this tribe. Whenever necessary, the whole tribe could uproot and be on the move at a moment’s notice. That’s just the way it was.
As the sky darkened to a deep orange, the tribe began to ignite the bonfire located in the center of the camp. The villagers gathered in a ring around the tall wooden structure, some dressed in their ceremonial outfits. Ohitekah was dressed under his mother’s strict guidance. He wore his best leather outfit, fitted with some decorative feathers his mother added, and sat next to her in the ring.
He was nervous, not being used to this much attention. He liked it more when he was younger and he could just eat as much as he wanted and no one would pay him a second thought. He drummed his fingers on his leg, impatiently waiting for the elders to take their seats. No one could eat until the speech was made. He tried to sit straighter, to act as a man as his mother would tell him. He knew he had to attend the ceremony, even though he did not want to.
His eyes quickly darted from face to face of those seated around the fire. Akando was seated with his wife and children to their right, he gave a smile when he caught eyes with Ohitekah, and then continued to keep his kids settled down.
Ohitekah looked further and saw Goleih, a boy that was older than himself. He completed his age ceremony several years ago. He looked irritated, as if coming to Ohitekah’s ceremony was a burden. He had always been that way. When they were younger, he was always rough on the other boys, especially Ohitekah. Goleih had a wife already, Mae, a girl around Ohitekah’s age. Her long black hair was straight and well-kept, she did not seem as annoyed as Goleih. Mae actually seemed excited for the ceremony tonight.
Finally, after a grueling and uncomfortable wait, the tribe elders sat at the top of the circle, followed by the Shaman, and the Chief elder. Once they were comfortable (which, for the elders, comfort was always elusive) the Chief leaned forward to speak.
“Today we welcome our child, Ohitekah, to the fire of the hunt,” the Chief proclaimed as loud as he could manage. The chief motioned his hand for Ohitekah to approach him.
Well, here it goes.
The chief was the oldest of the elders. He had long grey hair topped off with tall eagle feathers and sat on a high chair in front of the fire. His clothes were traditional and he carried in his palms a long yellow belt with the history of their people on it. As Ohitekah approached the elder he grew more nervous. Everyone was watching him. He did not know what to do with his hands, which made him even more anxious.
“Ohitekah, our son of the Qaokte tribe, has led our people to a great feast before the long winter, and has proven himself to be a most skilled leader and hunter. His fellow hunters have commended his abilities of guidance. Today we celebrate his triumph, and welcome him to the beginning of his journey to manhood.” Next to the elder, Ohitekah felt very tall. He stood totally straight, his long black hair falling to his tan shoulders.
Ohitekah made a crooked smile, unsure how to reciprocate the commendation. The elder then led the tribe in prayer, bringing to an end his awkward silence.
They prayed to The Creator, thanked him for all of his blessings. They prayed to the God of Storms, their personal deity, as he would watch over them before any other kingdom. Finally, they prayed to the Mythic of Thunder, the Thunderbird that flies through the heavens, may it give them a storm that would provide the water they needed to survive. After the prayer, Ohitekah returned with a hastened pace to sit down with his mother, his knees beginning to wobble in the eye of public scrutiny.
“Stop being so worried.” His mother scolded him in a whisper. “You did fine.”
Ohitekah glanced to Mae who was sitting silently next to Goleih.
Mother’s just being nice to me, I looked like an idiot.
His mind began to slip into tomorrow’s worries. The completion of leading a successful hunt was just the beginning of his coming of age ritual. The final part was the vision quest, the most honored and respected of the tribe’s traditions. Ohitekah did not want to think about that yet; he wanted to just enjoy his ceremony. Some of the women began to hand out wooden plates of the wonderfully cooked buffalo meat.
Ohitekah noticed Mae was serving meat close to him. He adjusted himself and sat up straight.
“Mae’s coming this way.” His mother teased “Better flex a little.”
Ohitekah turned red “Mother, shut up!”
“Hi Ohitekah,” Mae spoke for the first time tonight.
“Oh, hi Mae!” Ohitekah smiled and looked at her.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Your food?” She asked, holding up a wooden plate of cooked meat.
“Yes!” He reached out and grabbed it. “Thanks Mae.” He could feel his face getting hot.
Johanna reached out and grabbed another plate for herself. “Thank you dear.” She spoke.
Mae nodded and turned away, serving others their meal.
“Oh, I think she’s a keeper.” Johanna nudged Ohitekah who was too busy frowning to react.
“Yeah, a keeper for someone else…” He pouted, sneaking a glance to Goleih who had already finished his meal and was motioning to Mae for more.
Drums banged, music played, people chanted and danced as the ceremony dragged on. This was one of the biggest celebrations of the year, the last big feast at the end of summer. Ohitekah ate whatever he could get his hands on.
Tomorrow he began his vision quest and that meant this was his last meal before fasting. But he knew this was the last major hunt of the season, the meat would be harder to come by soon. He wrestled with the notion that he was more important than his tribe. Did I deserve it more than they did?
His mother handed him half of her plate of food.
“No Mother it’s all right, I’m fine.”
“I’m full, if you don’t eat it I’m giving it away to someone else.” She bluffed while dumping the meat onto his empty plate. “Don’t forget your prayers, Ohitekah. Your vision quest is tomorrow and you need the spirits’ blessings.”
Ohitekah faked a smile, once again, he tried not to think of tomorrow. More than once men had died while on their vision quest. Being alone at the mercy of nature was a scary thought. Sometimes men went mad, lost to the emptiness and silence of the pla
ins.
The vision quest was a time-held tradition for every man of the tribe. Alone in the plains, the spirits show you a spirit animal. That animal represents what path you must take in life, and your destiny. The vision of a wolf is that of a leader, a horse is that of a caregiver. Living the life of your spirit animal is what grants you a place in the tribes of the night sky. When the sun sets, you can see the bonfires of the tribal ancestors. They are ones who followed their spirit animals and lived good lives; they were rewarded with an afterlife in the Overworld with their ancestors for eternity.
Last year Goleih had the vision of a bear. He was destined to be a warrior. Ohitekah knew his father had received the vision of an eagle, a hunter and provider for his family. That was the sign he wanted the spirits to give him as well.
As he daydreamed, Ohitekah found his mind dreading the second part of every vision quest. The final test for those becoming an adult in the tribe. Whatever spirit animal the gods lead him to, he must track, hunt, and kill himself. It is the closing challenge from the spirits to prove one’s worth. It was not good enough for him just to receive his vision, he must also overcome it. Only after he returns to his tribe with an artifact from his animal, is he completed with the quest. Typically, the spirits would never give someone an animal they could not handle on their own. The greater the beast, the more the God of Thunder had faith in your abilities. Bears being reserved for skillful fighters, eagles for patient hunters, elk for wise leaders, and so on. Ohitekah prayed his would just be something easy; all he wanted was for this to be over with.
After the feasting was over and the fire burned itself out, Ohitekah stumbled to his feet and quickly realized his stomach was queasy from eating too much red meat. He decided to return home before anything came back up. While on the way back, he realized this would be one of the last nights sharing a night with his mother, but he wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. Boys were to build their own tipi once they had completed their vision quest, they should also begin finding a wife. Another thing he was not too excited about.
The tipi was empty. Good, he wanted some time to himself. He set up his sleeping mat and tried to get some rest. Tomorrow’s journey lay heavy on his mind. He wished he could ask someone for advice. However, he did not want to appear weak and unsure to the older men, even though he knew he probably was. He refused to ask Goleih, who would probably only belittle him and make things worse. Ohitekah rolled to his back and stared through the top of the tipi, gazing at all the stars, wondering if he could live up to the animal the spirits showed to him. Worrying about whether or not he would end up living with his father in the night sky. Ohitekah wondered what life would be like as a star, watching his future family sleep.
Right as Ohitekah began to finally silence his thoughts, his mother walked into the hut. Her attempts to be silent were in vain. She began to lie on the mat next to him, Ohitekah pretended to be asleep.
“I know you’re nervous for tomorrow,” she whispered to him gently, “but I know you can do anything, and you are the bravest man in our whole tribe.” She stroked his hair like she had always done since he was a child. “You will do great tomorrow, and I love you so much.” She kissed him on the back of his head. His breathing was too heavy for him to truly be asleep. Ohitekah suspected she probably knew he was awake but kept the act up anyway. He did not know what to say. He kept his eyes shut, comforted by her words. Soon the pretend act of sleep became a reality and he fell into a warm darkness.
Chapter Three:
The Vision Quest
The fiery red sun rose over the valley of jade and gold. Its morning rays snuck into the small hut and warmed Ohitekah’s face. He propped himself up, too nervous and eager to lay down any longer, he had already been awake for some time.
There was no ceremonial outfit for today. Actually, there was a total lack of one. Sometimes the participants of the vision quest would go totally naked. That’s how Goleih went, bare as the day he was born. It was probably an act to impress Mae before they were married. Ohitekah was not as confident and went with the maximum allowed articles of clothing: a simple cloth tied around his waist, covering what’s important.
His mother’s sleeping mat was empty; she was most likely waiting outside with the Shaman. The Shaman was the village’s connection to the gods, a role the tribe took very seriously.
Maybe no one else is awake yet…
He took a deep breath and quietly stepped outside.
His hopes were dashed as he laid eyes upon the rest of the tribe, all standing silently outside his home. For a moment, he considered turning back and hiding inside, but continued moving despite himself. Right in front of him was his mother and the Shaman, just as expected. The Shaman was much shorter than Ohitekah with long grey hair and a painted face. Akando was standing further back; he lifted his palm to his eyes, nose, and then chin. His mentor was reminding him of the signals once again with a cheeky smirk.
Thanks…
Ohitekah ignored the joke returned his attention to his mother. He knew he could not say goodbye to her. On the day of the quest, he was actually not allowed to speak to anyone.
The Shaman walked forward and blessed him. Only the spirits and Ohitekah could hear the mumbling of the old man’s prayers. The Shaman then took a pallet of crushed berries and painted his face, giving him holy symbols of the tribe and the spirits. The spirits would use these markings to identify Ohitekah in the wild. He then handed him a container of water. That sack of life was all Ohitekah could physically take with him on his quest.
Standing tall, Ohitekah did not look back at his mother. He could hear her crying softly though, as most mothers would. The Shaman blessed him a second time and turned Ohitekah around. This was it. He would now leave the tribe and not return until his quest was fulfilled.
Ohitekah walked away from the tribe, unwilling to look or turn back. This was the start of the quest. He was all on his own now, walking into the fields armed with only his thoughts, some water, and a loincloth. Some of the other tribes have a specific location where the vision quest must take place, a holy place where they gather annually to practice this ritual. Ohitekah’s tribe was a bit more old-fashioned and believed that the spirits would guide you to your place in the great fields, and then grant you a vision. Another rule of the tradition was that Ohitekah was not allowed to eat until he has contacted the spirits. This is what he had feared the most. He had been hungry before, but not for several days straight, not alone wandering the vast plains without a weapon.
Time passed slowly and Ohitekah did not feel spiritual yet. He did not feel much of anything. He noted that he was walking due east, for the sun was blinding him as it continued to rise. The grass was soft and did not bother his bare feet much. In preparation of the vision quest, he conditioned himself by walking around the tribe barefoot. His soft fur moccasins were dearly missed, but the steps were far from unbearable. However, the near nakedness was not only uncomfortable, but painful as the sun rose higher in the sky.
He wandered further away from home, up and down the rolling hills of the plains. Some said that the hills could move, literally rolling under the grass to change position. Like a sea moving in slow motion, Ohitekah did not believe this; the hills always appeared to be the same from year to year.
As he looked around, some of the hills looked vaguely familiar to him, but the plains were so large, so uncharacteristic, it was hard to identify exactly where he was. Some of the older men could navigate from the stars at night, if necessary. Most of the time, the tribe’s exact location was unimportant. They just followed the bison and the water. Ohitekah continued to walk straight, with no particular location in mind.
As the sun moved directly above him, his whole body started to sweat.
By the gods, it’s hot.
He had nothing to wipe the sweat from his brow, he just had to let it drip down his face. He had been walking straight for hours now. He took his first sip of water, knowing he had to preserve it.
He decided to rest on top of a grassy knoll, lying flat, spread out. His legs were becoming limp, and Ohitekah was disappointed in his weakness.
"Maybe if I just lay here, the hill will move me along. I won’t need to walk anymore," Ohitekah said out loud to himself, hinting at the hill to start rolling. He closed his eyes and waited a few moments.
Ohitekah had heard legends that the days used to be shorter hundreds of years ago. As the stories go, the sun moved faster across the sky because the God of the Sun and his fiery chariot would race across the heavens. The myths said that in the third age the Sun God lost one of his horses, and now the ride takes longer. Fairy tale or not, the sun needed to hurry up and set before Ohitekah burned to death.
He opened his eyes to see the sun had moved, but he had not. He prayed to the Thunderbird so that it would bless him with a storm. Even after the prayer, though, he did not expect the Thunderbird to actually appear. Every tribe on the plains competed for its favor, as the blessing of the Mythic of Thunder was a blessing of life. There were no permanent lakes or rivers on the plains, rain followed the Thunderbird, and that was the only way to find it. Some tribes tried to follow it, collect the water from the storms it created, although, no tribe could keep up with the Thunderbird for long. Your best chance is to move around and pray it comes to you. The Thunderbird never rests, never touches the ground, always flying above the storms it creates and drags them across the world.
As the elders told it, the Thunderbird was a Mythic, sent from the God of Storms to act as its servant on the plains. Apparently, each great nation had its own god, and also their own Mythic. Ohitekah knew little of the other nations, and wasn’t sure how true this all was. Personally, he wasn’t even sure if he believed in his own god, or the Thunderbird for that matter. He prayed to them mostly out of habit, but recently he had begun to doubt their existence.