THE TWINS REMEMBER WIJKEN.

ANOTHER CHAPTER OF ANCIENT LEGENDS

“Every ancient culture developed rituals to stretch past energies into the soul of the Future”. Stephen Charles Shepherd.

12912BBBC KLENTENFEST. Skandar had passed that Winter, his remains gently lowered into the sea from the longboat, as was the custom of the Tribe. Two moons later the body of Wijken, wrapped in skins and ice had been carried in her traditional procession, led now by Gutenora, Skandar’s granddaughter, to be laid in a cairn by that of Moeder av Dreyfuss. A sad start for Klentenfest. Her daughters sang of Wijken’s great skills, knowledge of the Truths, and of her generosity, her leadership. The twins then told of Wijkens life journey, thus:-

“We the people of this Good island are most fortunate to have two Mothers, This is our Truth. Our Birth Moeder av Dreyfuss has been honored every Klentenfest since we arrived on the Great Wave. Now it is the turn of Our Heart Moeder, Our Wijken, to be so honored. She was born to Benedara and Nocht on the Long Trek of D’Akanii av Malochoparus, from the Old Golden Lantern to this Our Island Home, this Our New Orolandus. She and Skandar entered this world in warm caves where the tribe had paused for a while. In the 6th cycle of that pause, the earth shook and burning stones, called Sdrogwhaan, fell from the sky, and boiling mud chased the tribe from that place. Some of the tribe thought that these flying stones were the eggs of a great beast whose shadow had blocked out the sun. Benedara the Wise told Wijken that such uhrancient suspicions were not as taught in Kenna Warreid by the Golden Lantern. Did not the cave walls speak of “No danger here ?”

In the flight from the Mudcano many had died and Wijken’s Grandfather Jameera had been sorely injured. Wijken never left his side as the Long Trek continued. He was her teacher of the Wisdoms; Shamaanum Benedara schooled her in healing and the skills of Illuminatum; Nocht and his brothers instructed her in Pathfinding and Hunting, often riding their shoulders through swamps and deep waters. She questioned everyone and everything, remembering every answer, then asking again. She laughed running with the dogs and sang with the birds, praising them for their gifts of beaks and wings” At this the listeners chuckled and tapped their Klenten headbands.

“As they journeyed ever North, leaving groundsign and cairns that other Orolandean travelers may track them, Wijken quickly learned the meaning of the positions of each cairnstone. Where the tribe stopped over in caves, she would consume herself in helping Benedara and Nocht to create more permanent detailed messages. One time Janak found a cairn that Benedara declared to be of Khumodin-Alach origin, a sister tribe. She built another cairn at the crossing point. These Red Salt people had gone to new homes with the Krinjii of D’hog-Harlan. Jameera spoke that night of Askara, the Krinjii’s M’Hernicusi Maratoni. A woman who had done much for the D’Akani. Clearly the old man had a great respect and affection for this woman, with whom he had often eaten charred elephant meat, over long and interesting discussions. Janak decided to find this Paragon, leaving before dawn on his quest. One cycle later Askara arrived finding Old Jamera dozing She whispered him awake, saying that Janak would arrive another day, that he was delayed by her sisters daughter…… Wijken was disappointed, for she missed her uncle. Askara also told that the crossing point was on a route regularly used by her peoples, in search of new lands to the East.

Other M’Hernicusi Maratoni arrived with news of sister tribes settling in distant lands faraway in the South. They also brought news of a prolonged battle in the mountains of the Agiainan Ogres, now decimated by Orolandean archers, who exacted the penalty of Shiclapp on wounded survivors. Each had an eye put out. Many of their women had chosen to leave to live with the victors on Malochoparus, even though it’s seas were encroaching the island. These M’Hernicusi soon departed, but Askara stayed, which delighted Wijken, she gave her elders space.

For the rest of that Summer the tribe struggled to cross a seemingly endless bog. Improvised footwear crumbled, sucked into the perilously soft ground. Some nights the tribe would be scattered over numerous crowded islets. Lower leg injuries were commonplace. The triphorlax urged them onward, promising a dry footed future. Wijken, still a youngster herself, insisted in carrying a different infant every day. Evenings were spent with Benedara, healing the day’s wounded. Eventually a high plateau, perhaps four days squelching hither. With renewed vigour the tribe pushed on. The ground rose slowly at first, then ever more steeply. Wijken started a chant. “Dry Feet, Dry Feet”….. The incline hard and stoney, chanting turned to panting. A hard bitter wind blew from the rear, the sky darkened, icy rain pelted. The wind became viscious, people hurled aside, and the Great Wave came. Only a few were washed beyond the plateau rim. Skandar had lashed his sister to him. No other children, none of the elders survived. Yet a stranger was among them, a stranger about to give birth”.

The listeners cried out for the lost, the little ones clung on lest the terrors be repeated, Wijken’s daughters sang again, then a murmuring of “Moeder av Dreyfus” gradually calmed the gathering. The twins continued “Wijken raised us as her own. We are all here to honor her today, she cared for us loved us, taught every one of us Kenna Warreid. Our number increased, so Skandar built the Oval Lantern, that she could teach the teachers. For 28 cycles, we shared her home, her daughters are our sisters, all of us are here because of her. She was and always will be Our Oracle, for D’Akanii and Navan alike. She has healed us, fed us, advised us. Even after she lost the power to walk, she has remained Our Rock. Yes she is gone, yes she stays with us to be honored every Klenten. So now, you the children, we ask you to create skin images of Wijken, Let us raise a new totem to Wijken to stand here by that our of Moeder av Deyfuss. Let us soon decide a name for our joined peoples that we can finally name our Oracle Edukana as per her last words. Let it be. But for this night let us share our stories and our love for Moeder Wijken. Who here does not have a story to tell. This is our Truth”

And such stories did they tell, until long after sunrise

TO BE REVISITED.

Thankyou Dear Readers for sharing these views of the Past. Peace, Maurice.

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