Kamu's Backstory
The young boy had not yet earned his first name, but he was called "Stick" by his playmates, for he was very thin. His ribs showed, and he seemed gaunt. Yet he had a quick mind, laughed easily, and made friends without hesitation. His light frame allowed him a greater relative strength of his hands, and so he would often sport about, climbing things -- so much so that his first name became "Kau", after the climbing insect.
Kau lived in a small lodge with his Mother and Father, and often would accompany his parents on reed-cutting expeditions near the edge of the Forest, where it became Swamp, and the trees grew up from beneath the water. They would return late in the day, everyone loaded down with bundles of reeds, and Kau's Mother and Father would take the sleepy boy and put him to bed. Often, too, his Father would go into the Forest to Hunt, for he was also a Hunter. While at times he would return with nothing, more often he would bring back a deer slung across his shoulders, and Kau's Mother would set to work cleaning and skinning it. Kau would help as best he could, holding the hides while his Mother scraped them, and chewing strips of leather to make them soft enough to become lacing.
It was a great sorrow to Kau and his Father when his Mother died of a fever one night. It had not seemed so very serious; a slight cough, a pain in the head, a dizziness. Each had had such a sickness before, and it was nothing a night's rest could not cure. Yet his Mother's head pain turned into a burning fire, and her body shook and sweated. Kau's Father went to seek a Medicine Man, but by the time he returned, she was dead.
Kau's Father did not want to leave the lodge he had built with his wife, nor subject the small boy to the annoyances of the Men's Lodge. As there was no one in Kau's Mother's family left to claim the property or the boy, and their lodge was well set off in the Forest, they were not troubled.
Kau's initial thinness filled out as he began to leave his childhood, but his agile nature did not change. He would climb cliffs for birds' eggs, trees for fruit and nuts. One day an Elder saw him hanging upside-down from a branch by his bent knees, cheerfully plucking gourd fruit and stuffing it into a sack, and spoke with his Father.
Kau's life changed that day, although he himself did not immediately notice it. It began with his Father growing more distant, regarding him over the light of the cooking fire at night in silence. Kau's father's face seemed sad and drawn as he considered his only son, but after two days, he awoke the boy at the first light of dawn, bade him get dressed and come with him.
Unexpectedly, and much to Kau's delight, his Father began to teach him how to Hunt. It began with learning the tools and ways of the weapon; understanding the crafting of arrows, the selection of shafts, the drying and stiffening of them by the side of the fire, fletching of them with split feathers and a sticky, boiled-down paste made from tree sap that Father had travelled all the way to Forest Town years before to get a pot of. The careful chipping and weighing of arrowheads, and the binding of them to the shaft with thin lacing. Lastly, the making of gut bowstrings and then the crafting of a bow itself, of proper size and weight for a youth of his age.
Kau took to the craft with all the intense seriousness that an eight-year-old can muster. His hands were constantly busy, and when he had finished his work each day, he worked at crafting arrows by the firelight until his eyes burned from the strain and his head drooped down on his chest with exhaustion.
Once his bow was complete, the boy practiced diligently, both with his Father and on his own. It was a joy to be able to prove his worth to his Father, and a true challenge to master the bow. After his skill in arrow-making had advanced to where his arrows were straight and flew true, Kau showed an aptitude with the weapon, and soon he could shoot as well as his Father, who had been using the bow and arrow for many years, Hunting in the Forest. Kau's heart sang at the grudging approval in his Father's eyes, and eagerly took to his next lessons, which were the art of walking softly, finding tracks, stalking and taking animals; the creation of small nooses and other traps, the finding of animal paths, the rites to appease the spirits of the animals one took, that they might not grow angry, and a thousand other things.
Yet Kau's Father's joy at his son's quickly-growing skill was tempered with unease, for what the Elder had told him sat and worried at the back of his mind. Yet there was no other choice for him, nor for the boy. He placed his faith in the Elders.
Once Kau had passed his twelfth year, and had begun bringing in animals of his own while hunting, without need of his Father to guide him, the next stage of his unusual education began.
After a day's journey out of the Forest and to the border of the Swamp, Kau and his Father came upon an unpleasant hut, ramshackle, surrounded by a strange stink, of boiled herbs and foul smokes. It was a Medicine Hut, and Kau's Father approached it reluctantly. But the Medicine Man seemed to somehow have sensed his approach, and emerged from the hut, his headdress adorned with the glittering, white skulls of hundreds of mice. Although not fearsome of visage, the Medicine Man had a presence that stopped Kau's father in his tracks. Nervously, he muttered, making the hand-sign to ward off unpleasantness, "I have come, oh Keshtu." he said, glancing down at Kau. "Here is the boy, for the teaching."
Kau looked up at his father, then back at the man in the headdress. He felt somewhat nervous in his presence, and the many Mouse skulls glittered queerly in the sunlight, but Kau neither quailed nor hid behind his father. He stood straight, and regarded the Medicine Man without fear -- ignorance was his shield that day, and it served him well, for the Medicine Man took it as a good sign of his courage, and nodded his acceptance of the boy.
And thus Kau's instruction began in the makings of substances into which arrowheads could be dipped, increasing their deadliness, or powders which could be added to bait, to render a creature senseless, that it might be taken alive, to be sold to a Shaman or added to a herd. For Kau's task was not to be a simple Hunter, yet why he was being taught this Medicine was not revealed to him. He was painfully disciplined by the Medicine Man if he made a mistake or did not pay close attention. It was dangerous work, and more than once he made himself sick by accidentally putting a finger in his mouth when he had not cleaned his nails well enough, or by eating some food while there still remained some residue of herbs on his fingertips.
But at last, his month of training there was complete, and he returned to his Father. It was a joy to be home at last, to see the lodge, just as it had been before.
But his Father did not greet him warmly, as he would a boy -- he held him off, and clasped his hands. For Kau was now thirteen years of age -- a Man, and it was time for his ceremony. His Father was going to return to the Men's Lodge. Together, they worked their last task together, breaking down their small lodge -- it was no longer to be their home.
It was hard for Kau, and he was silent as memories came and went as the task was undertaken. He remembered his Mother and his Father, the things that had been said, the food that had been cooked, laughter and smiles, arguments and crying. He looked over at his Father as they set aside the bundle of wattle they were carrying. "I am sorry, Father." he said.
His Father looked back at his son, surprised. "What has made you ashamed, son?" he asked.
"I am sorry that I was not a better son." Kau replied, glancing up at his Father with sorrowful eyes. "I made you and Mother upset sometimes, and I would never eat as much as you wanted me to. And I ran away one time, to not help with the reeds, and you had to look for me in the Forest."
Kau's Father smiled then, a little, something he had rarely done since the passing of Kau's Mother. He glanced back at the half-torn-down lodge, then at his son. "You are a good boy." he said, then hesitated. "You... you have always made me proud. I am glad I could show you how to use the bow... how to hunt, and track -- all the ways of the Forest. I think... Theni, your Mother, would have been proud of you, too. You have done well."
Kau's Father glanced down at his hands, hard and calloused from years of hard labor, then back up at his son.
"Son... you have... been chosen, by the Elders, for a... special purpose." he said. "It is a great honor... to be so chosen. Already your training has begun, before you were even a Man. You... are not going to be a Hunter. You may go far beyond the Forest... to other Villages... wherever the Elders send you. You may even be an Elder yourself, some day. You... where you are going, son... I cannot follow. But I will always wish you well. I have given you everything I could while you were a boy, and I know that you will be a good Man. In time, you will have sons of your own... and then you will be a good Father."
Kau blinked solemnly at his Father, for it was not his habit to speak at length on anything, especially of his Mother, and never with such emotion.
Together then, in silence, they finished clearing the lodge. Together, they walked back to the Forest Village, with all of their possessions in bundles atop their shoulders. It was a long walk, and they did not speak, each being lost in their own thoughts, their own memories.
Kau's Rite of Adulthood took place in the Forest Village the next day, together with all of the other boys who were becoming Men that Moon, and he passed all of the tests with ease. He was daubed with the colors of the Forest Village, and drank the potent brew of the Elders and was given his Adult Name: KAMU. After dancing and eating his fill, he returned dizzily to his Father, his heart singing, now a Man, his hair now properly arranged, silently shaping the word "Kamu" with his mouth, still marveling at the feel of it.
His Father brought them to the Men's Lodge and instructed him how to behave in the company of other Men, but they were there only a few days before a message arrived from the Elders.
His Father had someone read the message to him, for he himself could not read, and then the two of them walked overland to the very edge of the Forest, a journey of some two days, where they came to a camp. There, Kamu's Father said his farewells and left him. It was sad to be parted, when so many changes had taken place, but Kamu's Father's heart was all the heavier, for he knew that what was to come was dangerous, and his son might well not survive it. But he did not tell Kamu, for the Elder had made it clear he was to know nothing. But Kamu sensed his Father's sadness, and clasped him to his breast before he left, as though he were a small boy again. Kamu's Father accepted the embrace, and left silently, his eyes glistening.
At the camp, Kamu came to dwell with many other young Men of his age and older, all of whom were to be trained yet further, to contest against one another and together as teams, with some great but hidden prize being the reward of the victors.
At the camp, although he made many friends, Kamu's best friend was Swalau, a young Man from the Swamp Village who had great skill with the fishing spear. His father was a Shaman, and Swalau was regarded differently by most of the other boys, but Kamu, who had been raised in the Forest, held no special fear of him, and so the two became close.
Together over the next year and a half, the two braved every trial, and struggled to learn all that they were being tasked with. Elders often watched their contests and muttered to one another. It was all very mysterious.
One day, after bathing and wrestling a bit by the side of a stream, Kamu and Swalau lay panting on the bank, looking up at the sky above.
"I wish we knew what the Elders are planning for us." Kamu said. "My father never went through any of this training when he was young."
"It is a great Mystery." Swalau replied, slowly and thoughtfully, as was his way. "We are not yet worthy of that knowledge, or we would surely know the answer."
Kamu glanced over at his friend and smiled ruefully. "I wish I could rest and be at ease as you can, with that as the answer." he said.
Swalau shook his head slightly, closing his eyes as the sun emerged briefly from behind a fluffy cloud, dazzling in its brilliance. "You are always... wishing for things, Kamu." he said. "You wish to have answers, you wish to have less work, you wish you could just go back and hunt in the Forest with your Father... you should not say such things. We walk the path we are upon, step by step. If you want to change something in your life, and you can, just do it. If you cannot, do not bemoan it. Accept it."
Kamu thought about Swalau's words in silence for a few moments, his mind roaming back to the days he had spent with his Father and Mother in their lodge. Crickets chirped in the grass, and the stream gurgled its way past. Kamu's mind wandered a bit, and frustrated, he propped his head on one elbow and frowned. "I think you really are wise, Swalau." he said. "You think deep thoughts. But they are like fish in the river to me at times, darting away when I try to reach for them."
Swalau turned his head towards Kamu and opened his eyes, smiling a little. "You may only be seeing the glittering of the sun on the water." he said. "The fish are not as fast, or hard to seize, as you might imagine."
Kamu blinked thoughtfully, not knowing whether Swalau was talking about fish as thoughts, or real fish... or if the glittering water he spoke of was real water or some clever way of saying that Kamu was not looking at the truth, but was instead being distracted by something between him and the truth. Worse, what that thing was, or could be meant by the glittering sun, was so vague it led his mind to ever-branching paths of thought from which there was no easy return. It was often that way with what Swalau said, with meanings within meanings, which left Kamu's head spinning at times. Kamu opened his mouth to ask which was what, and to try and make a single path of his thoughts again, but was forestalled by Swalau sitting up and looking at him. "You can think well, Kamu." he said. "You just choose not to. I think you could even be a Medicine Man if you chose."
Kamu laughed and made the hand gesture of deflecting something unpleasant, as was his way when Swalau grew serious like this. "No, no, I already have seen the inside of one Medicine Hut." he said. "And have come to know something of the work. It is not to my taste at all."
Swalau shook his head and smiled, but then came the clanging of the bar calling everyone back to the camp for the next lesson. The paid got to their feet and raced back, for being late would draw punishment.
And so the training at the camp continued, day in and day out. It became increasingly more punishing. Increasingly more complex. Many left the camp, unable to pass the trials. Many were the times that Kamu himself would have not succeeded were it not for Swalau's aid and calm thinking, especially in areas of puzzles, or in remembering how many feathers the Elder had in her hair. Kamu at times felt as though he was not as helpful to Swalau, for the few things that he could do better -- climbing, swimming, shooting of the bow, fighting, wrestling... none of them could he really help Swalau with, for not only were they not teamed, but it was more a matter of physique than of skill -- each knew how to do the same things, Kamu could simply do them better; his body was lighter, more lithe and wiry than Swalau's.
This was never more regrettable than the sad day when the rock crumbled beneath his fingers, and Swalau fell from the cliff face they were climbing in a trial, after having safely negotiated so many earlier dangers alongside his friend.
There was nothing Kamu could do, but cry out and watch his friend's body pinwheel through the air, then bounce off the rocks, far below. Kamu recklessly slid and leapt down from point to point, heedlessly risking his own life in the descent, but Swalau was already dead by the time he reached him.
Kamu was no stranger to death, but his friend had meant a great deal to him, and he wept bitterly over his body until the Trainers came, and he was carried away.
That night and the next, Kamu lay on his pallet and thought of Swalau. His words that day by the stream echoed in Kamu's memory -- if you cannot change something, do not bemoan it. Accept it. As best as he could, Kamu did, and went on with the training.
Swalau was not the first to die, nor the last, in the training, but his passing changed Kamu. He spent no more time in games or playing with the other boys in the camp. He rarely found a reason to smile, and pressed himself hard, devoting himself to the exercises and trials of the camp, paying attention like never before. Although he could never put it into words, within his heart, Kamu felt that his efforts somehow made Swalau's death worthwhile -- that Swalau was still with him, helping him, cheering him on. Although he never spoke the thought to anyone, Kamu felt in his heart that perhaps, in becoming Swalai, he had chosen to stay behind -- he was the son of a Shaman, after all. Kamu even spoke under his breath to Swalai during the most dangerous challenges, when he had to be very careful. Perhaps it was his imagination, but sometimes he could almost hear his friend giving him the same comforting advice he always had.
As a result, Kamu excelled among the other young Men at the camp in the trials, despite the fact that he had only seen fifteen summers, and others were much older. While he was not unfriendly to the other boys, Kamu kept his own counsel, and never made any other close friends. Yet for this he was not reviled, and indeed was often chosen as a team leader, for he had no bias, was very skilled, and would often be very impartial. He tried to always follow Swalau's principles of logic and measured thought, for he held them in high esteem, and was all too conscious of his own profound lack of brilliance. Too, he suspected that Swalai's eye was still upon him, and he tried to always do things in a way his friend would have found proper and pleasing.
Kamu had turned sixteen when the final contest came. It was a trial like no other, and he was one of the few to claim the feather, and with it, a purpose and glory he could never have imagined -- the glory of flight, and being one of the few who would be able to reach out past the Raging Seas to find what was left of the world past the Breaking. He did not quail before the giant white birds, as many of the others did, for he had come to achieve a peaceful place within himself at this moment of victory -- a place that Swalau would have called "perfect acceptance". What would be, would be, and Kamu would take it as it came.
But he wept, that night, thinking of how Swalau also deserved this honor, and how he too would have marvelled at what was being proposed. He knew that Swalau would have had many deep thoughts on what was to come, and whatever happened, he would sorely miss his friend's careful and measured counsel. He hoped Swalai would remain with him, but he suspected that now that the trials were over, he would go to his Father the Shaman, if ever he had remained behind at all.
