The Shaman

It had been days since Flake and Striking Bear had left the camp, trudging through what to Flake was nearly knee deep mud and slush in some places. Though there was an upside, Striking Bear had to stop to rest far more often than the Walkers of his previous tribe did. For both Striking Bear's and Flake's people had seemed to evolve away from the long walking pursuit abilities of their distant ancestors, making for a far more even walk. Only when they did rest usually upon a fallen tree or large rock that kept them out of the mud and slush would Flake and Striking Bear be able to communicate via Flake's mycelium networks.

“How do you know where this shaman dwells anyways?” Flake asked as the white tendrils of mycelium spread across the log they sat on and onto Striking Bear’s rough and gnarled hand. “I usually make a journey every summer to come check up on him, he's not like any of the other walkers, at least not like how you describe them. He doesn't migrate, at least not away from his burning mountain, he'll only move up and down its slopes depending on the season. He lives alone there, he calls it a place of great and strange power.” Striking Bear responded as he scanned the horizon around them.

Flake then just nodded and thought back on old memories of his homeland, they had burning mountains there as well. Flake was then caught in his boyhood memories of his tribe navigating around a volcanic eruption. Only for Flake to grow frustrated at his tribe's reaction, how they mindlessly scattered about like animals, completely overwhelmed by fear. When if they just observed from a safe distance for a moment they could have seen all the benefits the eruption wrought, a free fire source, easy meals from the scattering animals, and if they stayed until the lava cooled then free stone resources as well. This made Flake contemplate for a moment further. Was he now so completely unlike his own people? Was he like the Shaman they were off to gather? So weird and alien that he could no longer live amongst his own family? The thought twisted around in his mind uncomfortably until Striking Bear stood back up from his rest and began to walk again. Causing Flake to break from his mental turmoil and quickly catch up.

The travel was significantly easier than when Flake ever traveled alone, not only was Striking Bear a natural deterrent to any local predators with his bear form but the two of them together had a far easier time of gathering food as well. Striking Bear showed Flake how the outer bark of certain trees could be scrapped away to gain access to an edible inner bark. Taking a piece that Striking Bear had clawed out of the tree with his bear claws, Flake found it tough, woody, and generally unpleasant to eat but they had few options to pick from so early in the spring. Even most mushrooms that Flake intrinsically knew weren't budding any fruiting bodies yet, instead choosing to lay dormant underground as their mycelium networks alone. Hunting was what was made the easiest; however, Flake could easily be sent ahead to herd animals into the waiting jaws and claws of Striking Bear. Deer and boar were the most common prey, anything larger and they would just be forced to either camp by the carcass or waste meat because they couldn't carry it all. There was no point in taking the risk of hunting large animals like bison if they couldn't reasonably harvest all the meat, so they stuck with more mid size and small game.

By the time the shaman's burning mountain came into view the last of the winter slush had melted away and grass had taken its place, though the trees had still yet to regrow their leaves, what few broad leafed trees lived this far north that is. The mountain itself was a strange thing, it stood alone in the land and rose to two points, an old nearly eroded away lower point off to the side, and a much higher newer point jutting up from the center like a great tree sprouting from the earth. The higher peak also heavily bellowed a thick black smoke that made the air smell foul and hurt the lungs. Flake could certainly see this strange mountain as a place of weird power, even if it was a very unpleasant one. Striking Bear meanwhile looked on the mountain in a glad sense of knowing, this was the shaman's mountain home he'd seen so many times before.

Striking Bear would then wave for Flake to follow as he made his way to the mountain, following familiar steps as he had taken time and time again before. Flake followed close behind having the kind of instinctual feeling rise up in him that hasn't risen up in a long time. The feeling that told him this mountain was bound to blow sooner rather than later. The lowlands around the mountain were coated in mixed broadleaf and evergreen forests. Yet these forests were eerie and ominous, for they entirely lacked the sounds of birds and bugs. Which only put Flake more on edge as they walked. “If the birds and bugs know not to dwell here surely we shouldn't either?” Thought Flake to himself, all the while Striking Bear just strode forth with practiced confidence, trusting in his old friend’s judgment in territory.

It took a day and half to make it through the lowlands around the smoking mountain until they finally reached its base. That night Flake never found himself able to sleep even as he was perched up in a tree, the existential threat of the volcano’s potential eruption kept him up all night with worry. Still hesitant the next morning he ate a saved strip of cambium from the day prior and joined Striking Bear as they continued their trek to the smoking mountain. The base of the mountain was still coated in more open forests yet Flake could see even below the midpoint of the mountain its sides bare from all but grass, and its peak was still coated with snow even as smoke bellowed forth from it. As they approached the base of the mountain Striking Bear stopped and shifted as naturally and seamlessly as ever into his greater bear form. Rearing up on two legs he let out a series of three ear piercing roars that echoed out across the mountain like thunder ripping across the open air before he shifted back into his human form and sat upon a downed tree. There he patted the log with a clear message. We're going to wait for a while, you may as well rest.

Flake sat next to Striking Bear and put a hand on his shoulder to facilitate communication once again. “I don't like this land, it's been over a day since we've heard a bug or bird, and not just because it's early spring.” Flake signalled through his mycelium network into Striking Bear's mind. “Don’t worry, my friend is smart enough to know when to leave, and if he had left already he'd have used his strange powers to guide me to him. You'll see here soon enough.” Striking Bear reassured Flake mentally. A few hours had passed of nothing but waiting in eerie near silence until the pair finally heard rustling from the nearby bushes. Yet it wouldn't be a human like Flake had expected, nor even an animal really. At the shoulder the thing was nearly as tall as Flake and in shape it almost resembled a wolf of some sort. Yet it was off, like a wolf as seen in a dream or a distant memory. It's proportions we're off from a real wolf’s. The neck was a little too long, the body a little rotund and lumpy, while the legs were a little too skinny. It had a monochromatic coloration, with a white face face, black neck and shoulders, and a gray body. The odd wolf simply came out of the brush and sat down in front of Striking Bear, all the while giving Flake an exaggerated cartoonish look of suspicion.

Striking Bear just stood up from the log and spoke in his deep guttural language Flake still had no real understanding of before the wolf seemed to almost shrug like a man before turning and walking. Striking Bear waved for Flake to follow and he did so. The wolf led the pair up further into the mountain until they were at the edge of the tree line. There they cut along the side of the mountain until they reached the entrance to a cave. The cave itself was made up of black rocks with a porous and jagged texture. As they entered the cave there were no rock formations, no stalagmites or stalactites. The cave was nothing but a tube of cooled lava and inside it was illuminated by a small fire, behind which stood an old walker man.

The old man in truth only stood a little taller than Striking Bear yet he looked much taller on account of the antlers he wore atop his head, over a hood of deer skin. His body was adorned in various multi-colored furs: fox, dhole, spotted deer, macaque, etc to make up an elaborate and ornate fur outfit that was stitched to stay tight to his body. The man had a long gray beard, so long it made Striking Bear's beard look small by comparison, it reached nearly to his stomach even with its various braids and beads. The man's face, what wasn't covered in gray hair, was instead painted in various striped patterns of red and yellow ochre. Meanwhile around his neck were long strings of necklaces of various teeth, claws, bones, and feathers. The man was so elaborately dressed and painted Flake almost didn't recognize him as human for a moment when he first laid eyes upon him.

The man then spoke in another vocal language different from both Striking Bear’s and the walker language of his previous tribe. Flake just rolled his eyes in frustration. Another vocal language he couldn't understand, how many of these existed anyways? It was absurd to him. Even tribes from the opposite sides of his island home could still at least vaguely understand each other's gestures. Yet all these spoken languages sound completely alien to one another and weren't even the slightest bit mutually intelligible. Sure they could get more complicated ideas across, but it came at the cost of their communication being extremely limited in scope. Not that it really mattered, Flake physically couldn't speak like them anyways. Still it would be nice to have someone he could just understand without having to use the mycelium method.

Striking Bear and the Shaman talked for many moments, with the Shaman occasionally making glances and gestures at Flake or shouting at Striking Bear. Striking Bear eventually started shouting as well as well and the two seemed to be having a very tense verbal battle. Their shouts echoed throughout the cave and the whole situation just made Flake uncomfortable, he didn't know whether to just keep to his own and let Striking Bear handle the situation or to extend his mycelium network and chip in as well. Eventually he settled upon letting Striking Bear handle the situation, afraid that the Shaman would see the mycelium network as some sort of attack and retaliate. Instead Flake let his eyes wander to the walls of the cave. There by light of the fire Flake would see elaborate painting all over depicting various animals from wolves and bears, to bison and mammoth, and most notably the exact visage of the wolf that led the pair to this very cave. Flake looked around, he never noticed the wolf walking out of the cave, maybe this has something to do with the shamans strange powers.

Eventually Striking Bear and the Shaman seem to have to come to an agreement and quite shouting at each other in words Flake has no understanding of. Striking Bear motioned for Flake to step and he did so, to where the Shaman would put a hand on his shoulder. “Striking Bear tells me you too were a victim of the Cave Dwellers. My name is Wise Wolf but you can refer to me as The Shaman. I'm surprised you have convinced Striking Bear to abandon that tribe and hunt for vengeance again. He is very stubborn, it took me years of fruitless searching before I could convince him to give up on our quest and move on with our lives. Why did you seek revenge on the Cave Dwellers beyond the death of the tribe that took you in?” The Shaman signalled to Flake through his mind, having no trouble understanding the process through Striking Bear's explanation. “Because I made a promise to the god whose body I ate, it gave me a new life, a new being, in exchange that I avenge the death of its original body.” Flake answered with mental conviction. “I see, I myself am the reincarnation of a macaque god my tribe once patronized. When my tribe was attacked by the cave dwellers it was because they were hunting me in the hopes of stealing my powers. Likewise its first death was at the hands of the Cave Dwellers as well.

I understand your burden. Now tell me if you aren't some young Cave Dweller, what are you?” The Shaman asked in return. Flake instead opted to give The Shaman a rapid flashback of his life much like he did to Striking Bear to convince him he wasn't a Cave Dweller child. Flake showed him his island home, being swept out to sea, the giant storm god monster, arriving on the shores of this land, his time with the Walker tribe, their deaths at the hands of the Cave Dwellers, his meeting with the Fungal God, his meeting and battle with Striking Bear, his time in the Mountain Dweller village, and their journey here. The only things Flake omitted were his tampering with Striking Bear's dreams, and some of the more personal details within his original tribe and the later walker tribe.

“That creature! The one whose wings bellowed storms, the one that created the storm that ultimately brought you here. I've seen it before in my visions. This, this must be fate at work, or the gods and spirits themselves. They sent you here to help us, I understand now. The Cave Dwellers, they're your people's ancestors, I see it now, and you've been sent here to write their wrongs. I've spoken to countless gods and spirits, they're not supposed to be here still, their kind have long died out everywhere else. They've told me they're a mystic parasite in this land, and you are the cure chosen by the mystic forces to purge this land. It all makes sense now, we just needed an outsider to bring the mystic balance in our favor.” The Shaman signalled to Flake ever faster with each sentence until he got so excited he let go of Flake's shoulder to dance around and chant in his own language as Flake looked on in one part confusion and one part horror.

Flake wasn't sure whether or not the thought of him being chosen by these different gods made him feel better or worse. On one hand the idea that he wasn't just ripped away from his family and nearly died horribly wasn't just a random fluke from a rescue gone wrong was comforting in a way. On the other hand why did he have to be one to right the spiritual wrongs of this alien land? Flake passed countless other islands on his drifting passage to this land. Surely an inhabitant of one of those islands could have been just as good a fit as he. Who were these miserable gods to tear him away from his home, his family, his original self, and everything he had ever known just to suffer and struggle in this miserable land? Flake grit his teeth in frustration all the while The Shaman danced around the cave like a maniac, and Striking Bear just stood there and laughed at his old friend's antics.

Eventually The Shaman settled from his manic and joyful fit and set a hand on both Flake's and Striking Bear's shoulders at the same time. “My friends I would not only be honored to join you on your hunt for vengeance, I know I am also duty bound to honor this sacred quest as well. However before that I have my own journey that I must complete first, one that has nearly reached its conclusion. I'm sure you've seen the smoke bellowing out of this mountain top, I believe it is bound to erupt soon and I must see it from a safe distance when it does. This has been my quest in living in this land ever since Striking Bear and I first parted ways. Once I have watched this mountain belch rock and fire like in my dreams only then can I leave. I need to witness the great spiritual confluence of land, sky, and fire all at once, and the spiritual implications of such an event.” The Shaman exclaimed mentally in an honest and pure elations.

“Fine by me, but I've lived through eruptions before in my homeland. We need to get to a safe distance now, as far away as we can while still seeing it. I won't take the risk of trying to run away mid eruption, not again.” Flake responded mentally in turn. “If Flake says he's seen eruptions before then I'm going to trust his judgement. We make camp past the forest on one of the far off mountains. If you want to be closer during the eruption itself you can make your way closer to it without us Wise Wolf.” Striking Bear confirmed with Flake. “A fine deal, this is my quest and I won't make you risk your lives for my curiosity.” The Shaman agreed in turn as well.

With the trio broke, The Shaman packed his things with a woven wicker basket he had strapped to his back. Strange implements like soft wet clay wrapped in hides so it could retain its use as paint. As well as some more practical things like fire starters, what preserved food he could carry and some stone tools shaped differently than how either Flake, his old tribe, or Striking Bear would have shaped them. They weren't formed from a jagged knapping process, instead they were round and smooth, as if they were beaten into shape instead. As well as some various herbs and leaves were packed as well. The trio would sleep that night in The Shaman's cave as he painted more crude reproductions of his various cave paintings in ochre across the upper half of his body, on his torso and arms.

The next morning the trio set out and made the days long journey across the surrounding forests and into the neighboring mountains so as to get as best a view as possible of the lone smoking mountain. In that time it was made obvious to Flake just how much better Striking Bear and The Shaman worked together than Striking Bear and himself. He saw it in how they walked, how they without a single word said could make complex plans and execute them flawlessly. Such as when a lone deer had crossed their path as they were walking. In an instant another odd and crude wolf lookalike jumped from The Shaman's forearm and manifested in reality. The crude wolf then perfectly chased and herded the deer right into the path of Striking Bear just as he assumed his bear form. So he could swoop down and break the creature’s neck with one bite of his powerful jaws. Had it been Flake and Striking Bear alone they likely would have had to track that deer for hours on end before such a maneuver could successfully be made. Flake was also jealous of how Striking Bear and The Shaman could so effortlessly communicate with each other. Nobody had to stop and grab someone for a prolonged mental back and forth. If something needed communicated you just make the right sound and it's said plane as day. This was the kind of partnership that was built over years of travel together not mere months.

Eventually the trio made it to a neighboring mountain within eyeshot of the lone smoking mountain and set up camp alongside a spring run off creek. There they lived and hunted until weeks later, when the trees began to bud their first green leaves of the year. That's when the earth started to shake violently all around them. Flake still panicked slightly only having lived in these lands for a few years, to the Striking Bear and The Shaman however? These earthquakes were nothing they hadn't seen before, even if this was a particularly violent one. Then looking at the lone smoking mountain an entire face of the mountain began to melt away like snow off the side of the log. In a matter of mere moments the smallest second peak was gone as a giant plume of ash was jetted into the sky higher higher than the mountain itself was tall. Then came the neon orange streaks of lava soon after, some shot off far and wide into the sky while others oozed up and out from the peak of the mountain.

The natural spectacle alone was a truly legendary sight to behold even as hot ash flooded their air around them. Yet what came next was even more shocking. A truly colossal creature began to claw its way out of the top of the volcano. It had the head and face of a catfish, the body of a snake, and the arms and legs of a lizard. The beast was truly colossal, nearly a quarter the size of the mountain itself as it clawed its way free of the mountain peak. With a great and terrible roar it shook the mountain and land around them as it itself finally erupted from the mountain in full. It then began to float about the air, freely as a fish swimming through the water until it reached far into the sky, almost out of eyeshot before it burst forth and fractured into hundreds of new beings. All of whom had different shapes and sizes, and all of whom scattered about the world in every direction. One, what appeared to resemble a wolf with the head of a snake ran past the camp after giving all three of them a knowing look. The Shaman in turn bowed to it before he began to dance and chant once again. For this event was a once in a lifetime viewing like almost no other, and The Shaman took it as a spiritual blessing for their next quest, their hunt for vengeance.