-V-
"The Prophets of the World's Balance"
Khakhani Island [1], 536 AD
"Do you know why the sun and moon have gone, master?" the boy asked. The odd looking slave boy spoke with an accent typical of an outsider, his voice just beginning to deepen, staring at the hazy patch in the sky where the sun once gave light. His cousin--or the girl the elder thought was his cousin--nodded.
"They will not return, not for now" she added. "They are sad at what they see."
The elder smiled. His two slaves continually impressed him with their insights on every aspect of the world, even at their young age. The two were inseparable from birth, despite the death of their parents early on. They learned so much so quickly, paying attention to the world around them, the words of the shamans, and, whispers had it, spirit possession. The elder was glad his nephew captured them as toddlers on a raid over a decade ago from the Dekina, but he had heard from another Dekina slave that the two were captured as infants from some other place.
"How would you return the sun and moon to us?" he asked, feeding another stick onto the stove in his spacious house. He glanced at the boy, who he knew was of the Raven moeity. "Will you speak with Yeil [2]?"
"Understanding," the boy said. "If people only understand what their actions meant, then things would not be so bad." The girl nodded.
"If we teach the people of this land and beyond, then the sun and moon will return," she added.
"Ah, but the people refuse to listen to what they know. As you two yourselves have said, they are too violent, greedy, and wicked, and already ignored the warnings of the few good people left," the elder replied.
"But you did," the boy said. "Since the sun and moon vanished a few days ago, you came to us for advice and knowledge. You speak to us more these past few days than ever before. You take us more seriously now despite our youth."
"You are beginning to realise something," the girl said. "I know it."
The elder sighed. They were right. He always appreciated the two and their knowledge and often kept them from the mundane tasks he expected of his other child slaves like cleaning up after his reindeer or tending his fish ponds. He knew he'd never put them work his adult slaves did like maintaining his ponds or gathering plants from them, and swore that no matter how beautiful the girl turned out to be, he would never take her as a concubine. Yet the fact the sun and moon faded like they'd prophecised struck his heart. The shamans couldn't explain it--no one could, but these children did. He remembered when they told him almost a month ago that night, that the last full moon was looking down at them, that both sun and moon would soon give no light. He brushed it off at first as just a prediction of the weather, but slowly over the next few weeks, the lights in the sky faded. The clouds in the sky--clouds he'd never seen--seemed to be imprisoning both sun and moon, hiding their light. And he'd grown amazed at the wisdom of these children.
"We told you the sun and moon would vanish first," the boy said. "Before we told anyone else, we gave you this warning. You are a wise and powerful man, and we knew we could convince you of the truth."
"How much more seriously will you take us in the future?" the girl said. "You are so close to understanding the truth. The gods would be joyous if even a few more people like you could reach this understanding."
The elder took a handful of
kantaqhwa [3] seeds from a finely carved bowl and started chewing on them, as he noticed himself doing more and more. It dulled the pain of an increasingly cruel--and now insane--world. From the death of his son in battle to the theft of his herd to the brilliance of two slave children, everything seemed to be going crazy. As his vision became altered by the poison within, he sighed. It would all get worse, he knew. Storms, frosts, and now the fading of the sun in the past few years caused the plants gathered from the ponds and fields to be small, or even rotten and diseased. In his youth, he had seen bistort the size of his fist, and arrow potatoes even larger--little like that existed these days.
"What even is 'understanding'," he sighed. "We can all see the world is doomed. We grew too complacent and upset the ancestors' social order. And now the gods have taken away Yeil's gift."
"Think of the
kantaqhwa you just ate," the boy said. "If you ate every seed in that bowl right now, you would suffer in agony as you died. And if a single reindeer of the herd you own ate every
kantaqhwa plant in the field, it would suffer the same way."
"Yet the same plant gives life to the dead fields," the girl continued. "When people try to push the land to grow too much of one plant, or in the empty places of fallen trees, the
kantaqhwa restores the land. When it is gone, whatever grows there thrives."
"True, but what of it?" the elder asked.
"Poison is the cure," the boy replied. "What poisons man and animal alike also restores the earth. It sustains the spirit as you are noticing right now."
"Your reindeer herds feast on this plant yet do not suffer," the girl said. "Health and sickness, life and death, are they not related?"
The elder wanted to say something, but couldn't speak it. He didn't want to admit his knowledge totally faltered against two slave children. But he knew they had a point.
"Everything comes from one origin," the girl said. "Once the world was in perfect harmony, but then Yeil stole the light."
"Yeil's actions," the boy continued, "continue to affect us all. Every single action of the ancestors, the spirits, the gods, was but a disturbance of the initial and perfect harmony."
"What do you possibly mean?" the elder asked. He knew the mind of these two came up with very unique interpretations of the truth of the world, and he had heard their idea of "harmony" before, but they seemed to be deconstructing the entirety of the ancestral faith.
The two looked at each other, as if confused how to speak their idea. "Perhaps its just a ripple of water," the boy said.
"Yes, a ripple," the girl continued. "The gods and spirits dropped a stone into this pond, which created the world yet caused endless effects afterwards."
"If we do not contain these ripples, then the world will fall into chaos as we are seeing," the boy said. "You complain about the clans of the sea, who hunt alongside orcas and kill whales. There must be peace between the reindeer herders and the whale hunters, to settle the conflict between land and sea and between Wolf and Raven."
The elder thought for a minute, realising these brilliant children knew of the struggle in Ringitsu society, but his thoughts were paused by shouts from outside his home.
"It's past time you bring them to us! Those slaves are practicing evil magic!" a shout rang out. "You are sheltering pure evil in your house! You are bringing evil on this village!" The elder recognised the voice, belonging to his grandnephew. He wore thick skins of reindeer as if he prepared to fight a battle. Behind him were men wielding spears and clubs, a militia ready to fight.
"Uncle, I am sorry," a middle-aged man stepped forward.
Even my nephew and heir wants to fight me. "I captured these children and their parents in your name, but I did not know what it would bring. Their black magic is dangerous."
"You did well," the boy said. "Without you, we may not have met a man of knowledge like your uncle."
"We have no magic," the girl said. "Only understanding of magic. We did not take the sun and moon away. Only the evil of men took away the light and caused disaster."
"We need to kill these children immediately!" a warrior in the crowd shouted. "The Dekina are here!" The elder's heart shook at the warning.
"Do you think for a minute," the elder shouted, shocked by the militia in front of him and the warnings of the Dekina attack. "That would I ever allow my slaves to practice evil magic? You know me well, boy," he pointed at his nephew. "I am not a man who gained anything on magic!"
The nephew grit his teeth, unsure. "Then show me a sign these two are not witches!"
"Then we will," the boy stepped forward. "You will survive today," the boy told the heir of the clan. "You have understanding."
"And you as well," the girl said, "looking at the elder. You will live until your life burns out naturally."
"Is that enough?" the elder growled. "Leave my house, all of you, until the Dekina are gone! If they are wrong, then I will make sure my slaves turn them over to be killed." The men of the militia looked amongst each other.
"Very well, that's a promise we'll make sure is kept," his heir said. The men outside dispersed at the signal of the heir, seemingly content and needing to deal with other matters. The elder glanced at the two.
"We're in dangerous times. The Dekina will want to attack this house. You should hide in the fields," he warned. The two nodded, walking out the side of the house. The elder sighed.
So another battle. May we not lose too much. He thought of the words of his two slaves, about not continuing the hatred and cycle of violence. May the Dekina not lose much either.
On that day, the Ringitsu and Dekina clashed once more. Arrows flew and spears collided as the war parties collided. Both sides lost many warriors, but the Ringitsu suffered the worst damage as the Dekina managed to ransack the house of the elder. Although the elder himself and his heir survived the battle, several of his slaves were captured by the surviving Dekina, who fled to their war canoes to return to their homeland. Two of these were those brilliant siblings who were to return to the Dekina who had captured them to begin with.
---
Khaida [4] lands, 560s AD
"You two were with him at his final hours," the new clan chief [5] spoke with a tinge of mourning to the strange man and woman he called the Brother and Sister (although he did not know if they indeed were siblings) who had once been his uncle's captives and slaves, but had become his greatest friends and spiritual advisors, now freedmen. He looked over the two--each tall and well-built for a man and woman, and well into middle age, wearing the same fine robes of brown
tehi [6]. Each had taken a spouse, but neither had any children, or at least, biological children, since each had adopted children of deceased slaves who followed them, and each spouse had since died young. "I believe you should speak to the rest of the clan."
"So I will," the Brother answered, his speech vaguely accented. The deceased chief was of a raven clan, much as his slave was. "Have you prepared the offering for the potlatch?"
"Offering? As in a slave?" the chief's mother questioned. It had been many years since they last sacrificed a slave, as the two siblings convinced them to stop the practice.
"Remember our words," the woman said. "Everything is nothing but a vibration from the beginning of times, caused by the creation of the world and all the spirits within it. At times the vibration bends toward light, and at times toward darkness. To sacrifice a slave in a time of darkness, where people struggle to live, merely increases that darkness. But in a time of light, it brings a necessary darkness to keep the world in balance. Too much light or too much darkness inevitably leads to destruction."
The clan chief smiled. When he captured these two on the battle at Kaigani [7] in the year the sun vanished, hiding in a ditch near the house of a Ringitsu chief, he thought little of it, yet when he and his uncle did as they said, listening to their words, giving proper funerals to the dead, and ceasing to fight until the time was right, not only their clan, but the entire village and Haida people seemed to gain. First the sun returned, then the plants and roots grew more numerous and reindeer grew larger. Not everything was perfect--times of famine, disease, and weak plants and animals struck at times. But following their words restored balance sooner or later.
"More and more in the lands of the Khaida, people are realising your truth," the clan chief said. "Only a few of the eldest medicine men and shamans in the land refuse to consult with spirits without considering the balance of the world." Both of them nodded.
"We hope this truth continues to spread, to not just the Khaida, but to the entire world," the man said. "I will speak to it once again to those gathered out there."
The clan chief looked out the opening in his hall. The sky burned orange as the sun set against the stony coast. On the meadow below, many dozens of men, women, and children of his clan gathered, sitting on the ground chatting amongst each other. Fires already burned, and people already prepared for the dancing, singing, and mourning that the night would bring. A few reindeer sat on the ground next to the men and women he recognised as the wealthiest leaders of his clan, but as a clan who gained their status from battles against both whales and men, they were poor in reindeer. Yet they had more reindeer than ever thanks to the increasing peace brought by the Brother and Sister.
They are healing the wounds between the clans of the sea and the clans of the mountains, the wounds between the Raven and Eagle. [8] Outside the hall sat an ornately painted wooden box, where the corpse of his uncle sat. Much as the boxes the Raven stole unleashed light, the world, and all the spirits within it, the spirit must return in the same box.
He motioned to a slave youth, the one he was going to sacrifice, who brought him a wooden goblet full of an apple-smelling yellow liquid, harvested from his growing apple orchards. He took a sip of it--the taste was bitter and intensely sour, but he drank it only for the effects on the mind. It made him feel happy and full of life, a powerful feeling when he was dealing with such death and the responsibilities now upon him.
"You should not drink too much of that," the Brother warned. "Too much influence of death casts the world out of harmony."
"We could forego the offering of that man," the clan chief suggested, shaking the goblet.
Few drank this when I was young, but now it is common. Perhaps the evil of this drink has protected our society from drifting too far in the direction of light in these recent times of prosperity.
"There are different kinds of darkness and death," the Sister replied. "To sacrifice a pure slave brings the darkness needed to counteract the excess of light. To drink the poison of dead apples until one collapses can only bring a fraction of that light, but it can bring an excess of darkness in one's future."
"That such a drink became so common in this era [9] is but a sign of the excess of darkness we have tried to fight," the Brother said. "It counteracts the light we have brought, but it should never be drank commonly lest it strengthen darkness in a time that should not happen." The clan chief finished the last of his goblet, desiring more, but choosing to respect the wishes of his advisors.
The Brother walked out the side of the house, onto to hillside, the clan chief following him. He donned a cloak of lynx fur, purchased from the Tsusha who these days seemed abundant in lynx.
The lynx brings the north winds of death, perhaps it's fitting for this moment. He raised a torch to gain the attention of the people.
"My fellows and brothers, our lord has died!" the Brother shouted. The people on the meadow looked up at him. "He passed away in the night, his spirit finally being free of the endless struggles of the world. Since his youth he struggled for purpose, hunting the strongest of beasts along with the orca, his distant kin [10]. He gave prosperity to his people, and through his wisdom, unified land and sea, obtaining many reindeer from the Eagle clans of the mountain."
The new clan chief stepped next to him to lend authority to his speech. "He knew right from wrong," the Brother continued, "selecting his finest and most brilliant nephew imbued by both himself and especially his wife as his heir. Both our former lord and his nephew performed to their utmost in battles against other Khaida, the Tsusha, the Ringitsu, the Dena, and all our other rivals! They captured slaves pure of heart and of strong wisdom, strengthening our people. He cultivated wisdom in everyone he came across. His clan, his village, and soon enough all of the Khaida prospered thanks to the ideas he fostered."
What would have happened to us if my uncle had not captured these two? Would the sun have returned? Would war have destroyed everything? The clan chief thought of the possibilities of failure, but quickly brushed it off. The Brother and Sister told him that the fate of all things could be influenced by the actions of enough pious souls. Even without knowing them, the purity of his and his uncle's spirit must have brought them on that raid to meet those two youths who at such a young age already had figured out so much. And with them, the Lands of the Khaida were saved.
"Yet his legacy was not simply violence!" the Brother said. "When the sun vanished, he quickly realised his errors! With his heir and many of his clan, he learned to peacefully resolve conflict amongst both outsiders and with the clans of the inland. He would only take up his weapons and call his followers to arms when needed. All the time, he encouraged people to pay attention to the influence on the world their actions caused, and with his positive reinforcement, not just the clan or the village, but the entire world benefitted from it!"
He is speaking of his own achievements that my uncle helped cause, the clan chief thought.
Perhaps that's his greatest accomplishment--bringing these two to our land. War, hunting, and other acts of violence had a place, but only at the right moment. That his uncle followed this new belief and yet his clan and village prospered was nothing but proof of its value.
"Our lord has passed beyond our reach this night, and now his nephew and heir retains his legacy of great success and great wisdom," the Brother continued. "We should all aspire to be like both men. The balancing belief our deceased lord promoted is the key to our success. We must understand our actions have spiritual repercussions. We must be wary of leaning one way or another. We must realise that inaction is still a choice. In darkness, we must lean toward light, in light, we must lean toward darkness. Our lord realised the rhythm of the gods and this world that influences all things, and as a result, led us all to prosperity by following it. Will you, his kin and followers, continue on this path?"
The crowd cheered, making the new clan chief smile. The Sister stood proud, impressed by the Brother's speech. The slave youth from before was led out the door by a medicine man, consigned to his fate. Barely an adult, the boy was tied to a pole in the center of the crowd, and stabbed with a copper knife several times. He screamed in agony, but in his dying words he made an appeal that his death bring prosperity for the people. The medicine man gathered some sticks, and set the pole and corpse alight.
The funeral has begun, and thus the potlatch. And I have so much to give away.
That day, a great warrior and chief was buried, his ashes returning to the earth. The Brother and Sister gave speeches throughout that funerary potlatch to inspire those there and helped the new clan chief give away many things. The new clan chief became immediately popular soon after this potlatch, and the prestige of the Brother and Sister only increased.
Yet they both realised a sense of mortality as a result of this funeral. Each had a spouse who perished, and each had no children of their own. And they each knew their message had yet to travel the world as they dreamed. Not long after, they requested of the new clan chief, as freedmen, that they be permitted to travel to the lands of the Tsusha, so that they might find their home village. And that from there, they might return to the Ringitsu they were captured from long ago. And if they were still alive at the end of this quest, that they may journey to the west, where the storm winds blew, so that they could truly conquer death itself and with it, save the entire world.
The clan chief was disappointed, but understood. As the two left on a kayak with several followers, he gave one last word to them.
"I believe your wisdom will return to us one day. And I believe in your continued prosperity. If you die, I will ensure the echo of your memory is successful in replacing you. Adults as you are, your influence has only begun."
---
Coastal Fusania, 560s AD
Days later, they arrived in the lands of the Tsusha, who had become influenced by Khaida and Ringitsu cultures by violent warfare. In the weeks to come, the two admitted their love for each other. Cousins they were, but cousin marriage was not uncommon in this era--Brother and Sister as they could seem to be, they were still of different moeities and thus eligible partners. Despite advancing age, the two married in the land of the Tsusha, acknowledged by their followers and some sympathetic Tsusha.
Not long after, the Sister fell pregnant, a nearly miraculous occurence given her advancing age. She bore two twins, a boy and a girl. The Sister gave no other children. Yet she attributed them to the aftermath of a violent battle between the Ringitsu and Tsusha--the light of the conception of new humans was the gods' way of counteracting the darkness of conflict.
The new twins grew up in a world increasingly influenced by their parents, who became spiritual advisors to many Tsusha. At one point, the Brother and Sister accompanied Dena pastoralists with their reindeer, speaking to a very different group of people. The Dena seemed to understand them and their beliefs on balance and harmony spread in that area. Yet they remained in the same area, with the lands of the Tsusha, Khaida, and Ringitsu being those they most preached in and appeared in.
Their twins grew up accordingly, traveling with their parents. When they reached adulthood, they themselves became great preachers who expounded on the belief of their parents. They traveled the world they knew, from the Hentsuren to the Imaru and the city of Wayam, trying to convince the people of the way of the world. Perhaps they were more successful--their children would form a priestly class who would influence the region for many centuries to come.
---
Mekhlakwela [11], 610s AD
"Your wisdom is most welcome," the elder commented. "Wisdom is rare, but conflict common. Those who can solve conflict without violence are rare indeed."
The Brother looked around the town, a host of wooden buildings and earth houses surrounded by a palisade with towers looking out to the sea. A few small mounds and ponds marked the residences of the nobility. He looked at the woman known to others as the Sister, but to him as his cousin--and wife. A lifetime of stress and strains reflected on her physical body in the many wrinkles and white hair, yet her spirit remained strong. His own body suffered similarly--he could not walk without the stiff cane in his hand.
"It is not worth a struggle over a woman," the Brother said. "Encourage those two families to make peace, lest their disturbance engulfs everything. The times are trying, so we must not make it worse."
"Your wisdom is strong, and your bond stronger," the man said. "You have traveled among so many people, yet you visit this place, our town of Mekhlakwela? Why is that?"
"To save our home," the Sister said. "Many decades ago we were stolen from our land by the Dekina not long after we were born. We have always wondered where our home was, and we believe this place is our source."
"One day the world must return to its source. The Raven's theft of the light and the boxes which held the world will be temporary, and it will all be closed up. It is only fitting as humans that our spirit returns to the place we were born as we die."
"Understandable," the elder said with a tinge of sorrow. "I have heard the stories of you from your son and daughter."
The Brother and Sister smiled. "They have done well themselves," the Sister said in motherly pride. "It is understandable people respect their spiritual power. From the Namal in the far southeast to the Guteikh [12] in the far northwest, this wisdom has spread thanks to them and their disciples. Nuklukayet, the place of the Gunana's wealth, will be restored one day."
"The world will be set right," the Brother said. "We are but one influential vibration, no doubt there are many more."
"Our children are helping the world, but so are all of our followers," the Sister said. "We are not alone. Things are becoming different." The elder nodded. The concepts these two Prophets introduced came decades ago, and the changes became increasingly apparent. The shamans and medicine men had become increasingly bent to these ideas over the course of his life, first from Ringitsu and Khaida slaves, but even slaves from people like the Attsu [13] from far south spoke of how these beliefs had become common.
"I will soon be gone," the elder said, "You two will be perfect for maintaining the peace of this community."
The Sister shook her head. "No, we will soon return to the source and leave this world."
"You are too young to remember the days the sun vanished because of the evil of people," the Brother said. "If you live a wholesome lifestyle, you will live many more years. It is us who have a short time in this world."
The elder looked at the old man and old woman before him. They wore
tehi robes with an external cloak of reindeer fur, and had ornately carved walking sticks he assumed were gifts from followers.
"I believe we have a ship to board," the Sister said. "A ship built by those inspired by the truth of the world."
"Where are you going?" the elder asked. "Who will gain from you in the near future?"
"First we will visit the land of the Ringitsu, Khakhani Island," the Brother said. "Our first master's heir, now a powerful chief of the Ringitsu, is still alive, and only from his belief in the truth we told him as children."
"He is the last bit of the source we came from," the Sister said. "After we visit him, we shall sail into the West, into the lands of the storm and death itself. The peace we brought and life we fostered will shelter us in that land of death. We do not know if we will return. If the land of death has no one to speak the truth of life to, perhaps we'll return. Yet if the land of death has people who do not realise our truth, perhaps we won't return."
"Noble as your desire is, you can't leave!" the elder of Mekhlakwela shouted. "Me and my clansmen and my supporters will not allow such spiritually powerful people to leave."
"Remember, you are our cousin," the Brother and Sister spoke in unison. "Of our ancestors, yours is the lineage which remained. Your youth compared to ours led to your prosperity. Born after the day the sun vanished, your childhood no doubt improved as slaves you captured spread pieces of the message we taught."
The elder was shocked.
These foreigners are my cousins? They predicted his childhood well enough, where the words of warriors of his kin and the slaves they captured hinted at various worldviews. As he grew older, he fought on raids himself, yet never fully knew why elders would constrain raids to only certain times. Finally, he led raids himself, capturing all sorts of people and loot. The philosophy these two spoke of he knew of for many decades, yet never knew its origin.
"Perhaps one day I'll know perfectly your truth," the elder said, clearly distraught over the facts his relatives revealed to him. "We of Mekhlakwela and many other Tsusha know enough of it, and we'll struggle to know more. I have heard your truths from the Khaida, the Ringitsu, the Dena, the Attsu, and many others in my time. Now, follow me for what you want."
They walked down toward the beach, where two massive canoes lay--or was it a single canoe? Two dugout canoes were linked together by stiff planks held by
tehi ropes. A plank rose between them, with a sheet of
tehi fabric waving in the wind rising out of a pillar immediately between them. A few men and women stood by the canoe, silhoueted against the sunset.
"A follower of beliefs like your own built this canoe, or these canoes," he said. "He assembled much
tehi fabric and attached it to a pillar. He realised he needed two canoes and a solid link between them for stability. And in a spark of understanding, he knew that building such a ship was nothing but an application of spiritual reality." Both Brother and Sister smiled.
"It's a ship based on the truth," the Brother said. "Two different elements joined together, with a central part representing the origin."
"And we shall sail on it," the Sister said.
"Correct," the elder of the Tsusha replied. "I wish you could stay here forever, yet I understand that if people like you could, this world would function perfectly, and the inherent disharmony of things forbids that."
The three walked onto the beach, with the Brother and Sister taking their place on opposite sides of the canoe.
"It's farewell, then," the elder said. "Few have seen as much as you have." Followers pushed the canoe into the sea, jumping into it to row the man and woman they followed.
"To the end of the world we'll travel, and death we'll conquer with our light," the two shouted as they cast off. "Our truth will spread throughout the world, and far in the future, we shall return to this place. And shall we die, the truth will remain forever!"
---
Eishou-ji (永勝寺), Ishikari Province, 1498 [14]
"That's just the story I've heard," Gaiyuchul said as he narrated a piece of old Fusanian history from his book. "No one can decide who or what the Sibling Prophets were. But a wise Dekina elder told me this tradition. They were cousins born as Dena who lived amongst the Tsusha, were captured by the Dekina, then by the Ringitsu, then matured among the Dekina, where after they returned to the Tsusha and they and their twin children spread their beliefs throughout the world."
"Fascinating. Have you heard others?" Jikken asked the
Soui prince as he took notes.
"Indeed I have!" he laughed. "In my own Katorimatsu and every other place we all want to believe the Sibling Prophets were our own. But all the stories admit they came from the north, from the lands of the Dekina and Ringitsu. I'm a wise man, so I assume the traditions of the Ringitsu, Dekina, and Tsusha are closer to the truth." He closed the book he was reading from, written in the bizarre fusion of
kana and
kanji. "I chose not to write down the most powerful stories I heard, about how the Sibling Prophets could tame or call up storms at their whim, turn summer to winter or winter to summer, and all manner of abilities. I couldn't determine what powers they had, since no one could decide, so I wrote them differently."
"Anyway," Jikken said, "you're saying this man and woman are behind most Fusanian beliefs?" Gaiyuchul thought for a moment, gazing into space.
"No, but they told us how to interpret our beliefs. They set things right and assigned everything a correct place. Much as Shakyamuni set things right in his homeland, and his later disciples set things right in this country I live in now."
"So you are saying they are
bodhisattvas?" Jikken asked.
Such figures appear in all lands, and even Fusania must have had some.
"I'm convinced they are," Gaiyuchul replied. "A few other Fusanians cast out here like me believe the same, beside a man who claims to be from far to the south. Their doctrine was a way to best teach the people almost a thousand years ago of the truth." He reopened his book, flipping to a page.
"To summarise", Gaiyuchul said. "Firstly, the world began when Raven stole the light from the other gods. He used the light to create the world as we know it, and all the people, animals, and plants inside. But the Raven's misdeed in stealing from the gods and his attempt to create the world was imperfect. This created the inherent distortion that this world is. Mankind is incapable of fighting this distortion, but the actions of man can over time sway things one way or another." He smiled. "It's very dualistic, but it taught good morals for both individuals and societies. The dark and light, death and life, good and evil, male and female, the ground and water, the heat and cold, and so much else, the Sibling Prophets taught us to respect it all and keep it in balance lest destruction result. We knew darkness hid inside light and vice verse, so we knew what to do. And even inaction was an action, there was no choice but to follow it."
He stood up, looking at the painting he made of the Battle of Tlakalama, with the burning warships and soldiers and archers and men on horned animals clashing.
"Followed it we did indeed," he muttered.
[1] - Prince of Wales Island, transcription of a Tlingit term meaning "Land of Crabapples" (
Malus fusca)
[2] -
Yeil is the Tlingit term for the Raven, a cultural figure/god who in many Pacific Northwest cultures stole the light from the Eagle which thus created the Sun.
[3] - Lupine seeds of a domesticated variety, mostly descended from
Lupinus nootkatensis, which I mentioned in the previous chapter. The toxic alkaloids in lesser doses were occasionally used as an intoxicant by the Tlingit and others OTL.
[4] - Different transcription of "
X̱aayda", which OTL was Anglicised to "Haida". I'm trying to avoid OTL Anglicisations while also avoiding OTL's indigenous alphabets which use a lot of unconventional consenants and can be difficult to read.
[5] - At this point, a chief is a figure of great respect as they are the heads of a clan, but they do not wield much practical power.
[6] -
Tehi is a TTL Japanese term for Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum), derived from a Tlingit word meaning "rope". Like hemp, it's useful for making ropes, clothing, and many other materials, and will slowly be domesticated.
[7] - Prince of Wales Island, a Haida cognate of the Tlingit term.
[8] - Like the Ringitsu, the Khaida have a similar issue of separation between reindeer-herding inlanders (albeit here inspired by the Ringitsu example with minimal Dena influence) and ambitious coastal clans with fewer reindeer.
[9] - The Brother and Sister, the new clan chief, and many others are in living memory of alcohol becoming widespread. The most common method is allowing crabapples (
Malus fusca, which I am referring to as apples) to ferment and mixing the juice with water, but berries and other plants are becoming subject to similar experiments. The societal need to address this is apparent.
[10] - Orcas were associated with the Raven and were rulers of the sea in Haida culture, with drowned humans serving them.
[11] - Metlakatla, BC, simply a different transliteration
[12] - OTL Tlingit term for Aleut people
[13] - Japanese exonym for the Nuu-chah-nulth/Nootka, deriving from the term "Aht" (found in the ethnonyms of subgroups of the Nuu-chah-nulth), meaning "people" in their language.
[14] - See the Prologue for additional explanations
