Spirit of the Forest

Boiling water filled the room with an uncomfortable humidity. Kale and Talia shifted in their chairs. There had been no chairs in the forest. Their bodies needed time to adjust to the hard wooden surfaces available for sitting in Etonia. After getting separated from their clan, they were hunted all the way to Etonia. The months in the camp outside the wall had been safe but it had only been a week since they had been assigned an apartment inside the wall.

Kale got up, unable to keep up the pretense any longer. He squatted next to his son, Val. The boy played on the floor with seven smooth pieces of slate. The thin oval stones slid off each other as Val tried to stack them. Not even two would stay in place on the rough wooden floor.

Kale offered encouragement, "You're doing good Val, keep trying."

Across from the family, an elder of the community watched with interest. She was studying the boy. This play was a test.

From her chair, Talia added, "We did not get to Walk in the Path with Val. The dangers of the forest chased us. There was little time."

Her nervous plea was interrupted as Grandma Nuray held up her hand, "It is alright. The tea is ready. I'll be back in a moment."

The elder got up out of her chair and headed for the kitchen. Before leaving the room, she turned to Talia. "Like steeping and brewing the Numsador is not a pass or fail but simply a process to pull out the boy's natural connection to the Spirit of the Forest. Many factors impact that connection and not everyone is Numsador. We all have our own roles, each is important."

As cabinets and tea cups clinked in the kitchen, Talia clasp her hands in prayer. She whispered, "Spirit of the Forest, watch over my son."

Kale did not notice. He offered a suggestion to his son. "Val, try to put that stone on its side."

Little hands turned the slate over and over then settled on which side would be up. The stone was cool to the touch and comforting to turn over. Val placed the slate so it stood vertical on the floor boards. It leaned back. He steadied it with his hand. It leaned forward. He caught it as it was about to tip over.

Kale cautioned, "Gentle, gentle. Work with it, nice and slow."

Val giggled as the slate stood by itself. "Dad, make it higher!"

Kale focused and balanced a second slate on top and began to hum an old tune. He picked up a third piece.

"Higher dad! Higher!" Val clapped.

The third slate wobbled but stood tall on the stack. A breeze from the window flipped a tuft of Val's hair. The current flowed into the kitchen.

Grandma Nuray jumped when the fire under the kettle was nearly snuffed out. Light returned to the room a second later as the fire rebounded. Her heart pounded in her ears. She put down the tea tray and wondered what had passed through. She looked out into the sitting room.

The stack of slate was six high. Val had the last piece in his hand. The stack stood eye level with his young frame. His father held his hands near each side of the stack as if he could hold the tower of stone together by sheer will.

Kale whispered, "One more Val."

Tears streamed down Talia's face. She wiped one cheek then the other and smiled at Grandma Nurray as their eyes met. She mouthed silently, "My boys."