Legends of Belariath
Red Raven
I do not know all of my own story, for it starts before I was born, and runs for a little bit after, before I knew what was going on. My story starts with my REAL parents. They were Torians, cast out of their tribes for having wings the wrong color. My father and mother's wings were both black. The two of them found each other and they formed a cluster of a new tribe. One made up of outcasts.
The tribe of outcasts moved and took up a nomadic nature in an effort to assist and find more outcasts who were looking for a home. They found them and continued to grow until there were 10 adults, 25 teenagers, and 9 children.
As they grew they slowly attracted more and more attention from Torian tribes in the area. They were harried and pushed and forced to flee attacks from their own people. Who believed that they were concentrating bad luck and bringing it into the area and possibly bringing it upon their tribe as well.
The tribe continued to grow gaining more and more Outcasts, and drawing more and more attention from neighbors. In spite of the difficulties a routine developed, life continued, and my parents fell in love. The tribe had a few years of relative peace. I was born towards the end of this time. I was named Exekatlkalli, which meant Child of the Wind.
One day a number of fearful tribes banded together and attacked. They harried the tribe of outcasts from many sides and drove them on, slaying all. They drove them far from the territory which all of them normally inhabited. They drove them deep into the lands of the Setina tribe of Sheyka.
My mother died save me. As she was dying, she commanded her familiar to look after me, to help me, and to guide me. Her outstreached black wings hid me and kept me safe. That and the fact that I was a quiet child are the only reasons I am still here.
The smoke from the fires which the tribes lit in an effort to burn the bodies where they lay drew swift attention from the Setina. I had been relatively quiet, however the heat from the fire, the smoke, and my hunger made for a cranky child. So I was making noise enough to cause the Sheyka warriors to investigate. As they did not have any Torians in the tribe, I was seen as an opportunity to be raised as a near perfect slave. Therefore I was taken back to the tribe.
I spent a good few years of my life as most any infant and toddler. I was kept away from most of the tribe. The shaman, Swift Bear, caught glimpses of me occassionally and saw my mother's familiar hanging around me. It appeared to him that I had a protector spirit like the Sheyka. However, for a long time he said nothing. Then one day when I was about 5 the Shaman's apprentice died and he was left with no one he could trust to take over, were he to die. So he announced the amazing and astounding. That despite all appearances I was a Sheyka. That the spirits had told him thus and that he was taking me as his apprentice.
My life as the apprentice of Swift Bear was boring. I was teased for looking different, and for being far easier to injure. The taunts wore and were hurtful. My mentor and teacher Swift Bear told me that they were simply jealous, that I had been chosen by the spirits to be different, and that it was obvious that I had and would have a deeper connection than most. Eventually most of the other children grew tired of it as I began to throw myself into learning all that I needed. For the most part it was rather boring work, but necessary. I needed to weed and clean Swift Bear's garden. I needed to learn the name and 1001 uses for all the plants. I needed to learn where to dig for the sacred clay, and the prayers necessary for each ritual. I needed to learn chant after chant, and how to create new ones, which are pleasing to the spirits.
The more things stay the same, the more they change. We grow and learn. One season turns into the next. I grew through my apprenticeship and learned most all of what I needed in order to become a shaman. However, as a rite of passage, I was sent from the tribe. I was sent to wander and learn and grow more. To become stronger and learn what I could not inside the tribe. And then to come back.
This is where my story ends, and where it begins.