“Papa, when did you first know you would be a shaman?” 

Owen sat with Orlando in the garden. The first birds were already greeting the dawn. Although his father had insisted that he and Kaz get some rest before leaving, Owen hadn’t been able to sleep much. He felt like he had gone through exhausted and come out the other side into a sort of drifting, dreamlike reality. Devlin panted at his knee, and Owen rested his hand absently on the dog’s soft head. 

“It was a few years after my vision quest. I already had an uncommonly strong connection with Yaku. He would guide me to help others, nudge me to where the well was deepest, the water cleanest, that sort of thing. People began to consult me about crop irrigation - anything that had to do with water.

“And then one day I was down by the river and a hunter splashed towards me. He was feverish, half out of his mind from pain. He had barely escaped an encounter with a jaguar, and in his pain had eaten some poisonous berries to try and boost his strength. I didn’t know any of this, of course. In that moment, all I knew was that that man needed help. I asked Yaku for help, but instead I heard a different voice. It was Yapuna, pointing me to a plant that would counteract both the berries and the fever from the wounds, which were infected.

“I saved the hunter. I hesitate to say I cured him, because at that point my ministrations were clumsy, to say the least. But they bought him enough time for me to bring him to Russ, who was the shaman in those days. He cured the hunter, and when he heard what had happened, he took me as his apprentice. Much to the villagers’ relief, for Russ was getting on in years, but he refused to take on an apprentice until someone clearly chosen by the elements showed up.” 

“But did he tell you you were a shaman, or did Yaku?” 

“I see. You want to know how one knows they are to be a shaman. In a way, Yapuna told me, when she spoke to me. But Russ confirmed my suspicion, and helped me develop my relationship with the other elements.” 

“So Yaku didn’t tell you?” 

“No. That’s one of the main differences between mages and shamans. Shamans get their information from any element they have connected with, whereas mages - and most people - are limited to only one. Usually shamans discover their power when their second element comes to them.”

“And how long does that usually take?” 

“It varies from person to person. I found my power young - about your age. But I had already had several years to develop my relationship with Yaku. Why do you ask? Are you impatient already?” 

“Not impatient,” said Owen, choosing to ignore his father’s teasing tone. “Just confused. I clearly have some sort of power. But Ch’usaj didn’t say anything about my being a mage. And if I’m not a shaman until another element communicates with me, then what does that make me?” 

Orlando didn’t answer right away. Devlin, sensing Owen’s distress, whined and pushed his muzzle under his hand. Owen stroked the floppy ears, waiting. 

“Honestly, it makes you a mystery,” said Orlando finally. “I know that’s neither comforting nor useful, but it’s all I can say with any certainty. Except this: you’re also new. You’ve had your element for less than two days. True, it takes most people longer for their power to manifest, regardless of whether they’re a mage or a shaman. But you came into your own in extraordinary circumstances. Perhaps the moments of power you have shown were emergency measures of some sort, a glimpse of what you will one day grow to be. I think we can be certain that you will be either a mage or a shaman, though I have never heard of a shaman chosen by Ch’usaj. As to which one, I suspect time will make that clear. I know it must be frustrating, but know that you are already far ahead of most who have just finished their vision quests. There’s no need to rush to know the rest, no matter how tempting it may be.” 

“So basically you’re saying that I have to just wait and see?” said Owen with a lot more bitterness than he had intended. 

Orlando’s heavy hand grasped him by the shoulder. 

“Yes,” he said simply. “I know that’s not helpful or reassuring given what you’re heading into. But it’s the best I’ve got for you on that topic. I do have something else for you, though.” 

Owen’s curiosity overcame his frustration, which was now somewhat abashed anyway. “What is it?” he asked. 

Orlando took his hand and pressed something into it, before closing Owen’s fingers around it. Owen explored the object with his touch. It was a soft fabric bag with a long drawstring. 

“Wear this bag around your neck. It has a protective crystal inside. At every place you stay, put an object inside. Not only will that align you with the spirits of that place, which will keep you safe, but you will be able to follow the trail back home when all this is over.” 

Owen felt tears prick his eyes. “I hope I make it back,” he said, before hugging his father. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind some half-remembered detail stirred uncertainly. 

There was a crunch of familiar footsteps as his mother approached. 

“Owen, can you come? I’ve done most of the packing, but I need you for the final touches.” 

Feeling a great rush of affection and gratitude for his mother, Owen stood. 

“On my way,” he said. Holding Devlin’s leash, he instructed the dog to follow his mother. Orlando squeezed his hand and joined him as he walked towards the house. 

Owen knew both of his parents were incredibly strong, but most people only saw his father’s strength. He was a more well-known, more public figure, as the best shaman in the entire surrounding area. Everyone knew that he could hold himself and everyone else in a crisis. What they didn’t know was that when he got home and collapsed from the weight of it all, it was Maria who held him. Of course she got emotional. That was only natural for a mother. But when it mattered, like right now, she was utterly unshakeable. 

When they arrived in Owen’s small room, Maria hardly waited for him to step inside when she started speaking. 

“I repacked everything from your vision quest - after washing your clothes of course - and I added more clothes for a longer journey. And I thought-”

“Mama,” said Owen. Devlin seemed to read his mind, as the dog so often did, and led him around the bed right to his mother’s side. 

“Yes, dear?” she said. 

Owen held out his hand. She took it immediately. The tremor absent from her voice was subtly present in her grip. 

“Thank you, Mama,” he said. 

“Of course, dear,” she said. “You had an intense night, and I thought it would be more efficient if I packed.”

Again he cut her off. “Not just for that, Mama. For everything. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother, and I notice and appreciate all the little things you do for me and Jess. I couldn’t leave without telling you that.” 

Maria dropped his hand and threw her arms around him with so much energy that she nearly knocked him over. Her chest shook with sobs. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving!” she cried. “My little boy...you’ve grown into such a remarkable young man. And now you’re off to do something so important. I’m so proud of you!” 

Devlin’s tail drummed a steady tattoo as he leaned heavily against both of their legs. 

Maria gave a watery laugh. 

“Devlin knows how much I love you,” she said in a choked voice. 

Devlin wagged harder than ever. 

“Keep an eye on him, boy,” said Maria, leaning down to pet the dog while still keeping one arm against Owen. “Don’t let him get into too much trouble.” 

“Me?” said Owen in mock outrage. “It’s him I need to worry about. You know the number of times I’ve had to rescue him from trouble of one kind or another. If I can get him to behave, I know we’ll be fine.” 

Maria laughed and hugged him again. 

“Just bring him back safe,” she whispered. But whether she was speaking to him or Devlin, Owen wasn’t sure. 

~

He and Kaz were both packed. They were out in the garden with Orlando, Maria, and Jess. Judging by the racket the roosters were making, the sun was about to rise. 

Jess sidled up to him while Kaz spoke to their parents. 

“I thought you might want this,” she said. “As a reminder of home.” 

She placed something in his hand. He recognized it immediately. It was Devlin’s first collar. Jess had woven it for him when she was first learning the craft. The puppy had quickly outgrown it, but Owen had kept the collar both as a reminder of when he and Devlin had both been younger and because his sister had made it. 

“Thank you,” he said, hugging her. 

“You know, it’s small enough, if we double it up, it could almost be a bracelet,” she said. Owen could hear her holding back the tears. He wouldn’t have minded if she had let them loose, except then he was sure that he would cry, too. Somehow with her, more than either of his parents, the reality of his leaving was stronger. Maybe it was because she was essentially his best friend, or maybe that he was used to her being with him whenever he had any kind of adventures. Whatever the reason, he didn’t want to say goodbye. 

He held out his hand. “You can go ahead and try,” he said. 

“Where will you go first?’ asked Jess as she fastened the collar around his wrist. It fit him reasonably well. 

“Alkantay,” he said. “We’ll stop to get supplies there. And then head North to the Sacred Mountain.” 

“I wish I could go with you,” said Jess. “You’ll have to tell me all about your adventures when you get back.” 

She wrapped her skinny arms around him once more, and he held her close, chin resting on the top of her head, blinking away tears. When he got back. 

“I will, sis,” he said. 

“Promise me?” she said in a tiny, choked voice. 

Could he promise that? He didn’t know what the future held. But he felt his sister’s face pressed against his chest and knew that he’d fight like hell to get back to this, to her, to his family. 

“I promise,” he whispered into her hair. 

~

“Take the back trail to the river,” Orlando was saying. “Jess will go with you to the trailhead to keep an eye out for the trackers. They finished searching the homes, but one of our neighbors said they’re staying in the inn.” 

“Would any of them turn us in if they saw us?” asked Kaz. 

“No,” said Maria. “They hate trouble and respect Orlando. If anyone has questions they’ll come to him first. And if in doubt, they’ll keep their mouths shut.” 

“And what will you tell anyone who comes to you?” asked Kaz. 

“The truth, I think,” said Orlando. “Or part of it. That the Sun King is dead and that the trackers were sent by the man who killed him. That will be enough for them. They won’t even care who you are at that point. They won’t push. And they won’t talk.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” said Orlando. 

“But what about Old Man Grouch,” asked Jess. 

“Don’t worry,” said Orlando. “I’ll go distract him while you leave.” 

“Who’s Old Man Grouch?” asked Kaz, sounding nervous. 

“It’s not his real name,” explained Owen. “Everyone calls him that because he’s a cranky old man who hates the empire. He was sent to work in the mines when he was a kid because his family couldn’t pay enough in crops. So he’s bitter. Every village in these parts has at least one like him. It’s part of why most people want as little to do with the empire as possible. Don’t want to be noticed. But with Old Man Grouch and those like him, the only kind of trouble he’s interested in is the kind that inconveniences the government. He’s the only one in the village who might sell you to the trackers.” 

“That’s horrible,” said Kaz. Owen thought that was referring to their neighbor’s willingness to turn her in, but then she continued. “I had no idea that’s how people ended up working the mines. I thought they volunteered.” 

“They do, officially,” said Orlando. “But everyone in these small villages knows that’s really a euphemism for indentured servitude. Kaz, I’m sure we could spend hours discussing the politics of the empire. But you need to go before it gets too light.” 

“Alright,” said Kaz, although Owen picked up some reluctance in her voice. “Ready, Owen?” she asked. 

“Ok,” said Owen. His throat was tight. Suddenly it all felt so much more real. He felt like there were so many things he should have said to his family. But he couldn’t think of anything specific. Maybe goodbyes always felt inadequate. 

“Alright, then. Lead on, Jess,” said Kaz. 

Owen followed Devlin’s leash past the garden gate and couldn’t help feeling that even if he did make it back here someday, he would  certainly not be the same person.

Next Chapter: Interlude: Vidar - Sapan