Of Two Worlds

Walking away from the river was the hardest thing I ever did. I left half of myself there. I am Kushtaka, and I had spent my life up this point in my otter form. I hoped I could find more than what my simple life had given me. I had to be more. I hoped that as a human I might find what I could not as an otter. Every part of being, human was new to me. I felt fragile and exposed, though I knew this was to be a new way of life for me.

A memory had driven me. A canoe filled with people drifting down the river not knowing the dangers that lay ahead of them. One young boy spotted me. His eyes locked with mine. I disobeyed the edict of our people that day. Never were we to interfere in the lives of humans. The rule never seemed to make sense to me, especially knowing that what they are is half of who, I am.

I walked on two legs, the earth beneath my feet, hard and stony. I walked for two suns before my body wearied. The other animals taunted me. The forest was full of cruel trees and vines that cut at my now fragile skin. I found a clearing and lay down. I thought my life over as I lay upon the ground. I had forsaken the river and my people leaving them behind, and a new sort of pain expanded in my chest.

The moon laughed down on me as a howl broke through the forests sounds. Yellow measuring eyes surrounded me, and I to weary to move. Brother wolf and his pack moved in towards me and I closed my eyes. My mind screamed at me for leaving the river. Then the darkness stole me completely.

The next thing I felt left my numb mind wondering in silent questioning circles. A warm pelt was being wrapped around my fragile-thin skin. Then I heard the deep somber voice of a man.

The fear I felt overwhelmed me and I could only whimper. Strange moisture came flooding to my weak eyes. The voice stopped a warm work worn hand gently wiped the moisture from my eyes. I found the courage to open my eyes. They met those of the man. I looked into his dark brown eyes. Eyes that reflected a peaceful soul my fears were soothed, until another voice broke our gaze. The other voice was a deeper gruff sounding voice.

I could not understand their tongue. With the comfort of the pelt, I curled into a ball hoping it would protect me from them, not knowing what would happen next. While I hid, I was hefted into the air and carried away. My heart raced wondering what was to become of me. I slipped into a troubled slumber from fear and exhaustion.

When next I woke, I was looking into the age wised eyes of a human woman. Her iron-gray hair was pulled back from the wrinkled skin of her face. When she noticed my look of fear, she smiled and winked. I knew then my fear was misplaced.

She pulled the pelt away and held a clean vessel of water out to me. As I held it, she mimed drinking. I could smell the pure water within and I drank deeply and slowly knowing that it was my salvation. Her eyes widened in awe as she looked upon my scratched skin that seemed to bake on a new glow of health.

Her hands shook as she took the bowl from me. Then she spoke, with her hand over her chest “Sufi-winita”. I came to learn this was her name. Language was hard and came slow to me. It took many suns to learn and understand. I still searched the spirit behind the eyes of the speaker for the truth behind the words.

Sufi-winita became a mother to me, teaching me the ways of her people. After a score of suns, the man I had met in the clearing, came again. I learned he was a warrior brave named Takuna.

So many new things I learned. Their dens were hide wrapped trees. She taught me of the herbs and forageable foods that the forest had to offer. I learned of healing and aided her in daily chores. Eventually I aided others of her people in their duties. Always new words I added to my growing list.

For many season’s I was content in learning growing and helping. Then the season of bloom came again, to the forest. Takuna was away and Sufi-winita never woke. I left the den. I could not return my sorrow in that place was too deep.

Then the memories of that fateful day in the river returned to me. When I swam the canoe to the river’s edge, before the rushing river dropped them into her watery depths. The boy’s eyes that had spoke to me, before he turned to walk away into the forest. I felt the tears roll down my face. I had lost him a hundred times in my mind.

With that loss and the loss of Sufi-winita fresh on my mind, I questioned if I would ever find him again. Was I on an endless journey? What if I found him and he was changed? I had been with humans long enough to know that they changed as they aged. Their joyful youth left after several seasons.

How far was my river now? Would my people take me back? As I journeyed the ground began to rise. The season advanced. I was weary in flesh and soul when I came upon a curious den. The den was of a human I was sure, though none was near now. I went into the door. The den was made of Earth and trees that had been made to lay flat.

I stayed feeling the den’s security. I found a small stream nearby and forageable foods. I gathered all I could find as the season of cold was so close you could feel the sting of the winds. The nearby stream provided fish that I dutifully hung and dried along with other foods I gathered and hunted as best I could.

Two suns into the cold season when the winds howled and wet white snow fell from the sky I was mending my pelts when the door opened. In walked a man. His eyes locked with mine and a shock of recognition jolted me. His dark skin was blue with cold and he fell to the floor just inside of the door. I quickly closed out the cold and pulled him to the warmth.

I searched every memory of all that I had learned from Sufi-winita, recalling all her lessons to heal from the cold. Quickly I removed his frozen clothes and wrapped him in warmth of fresh dry blankets. I dribbled healing droughts into his mouth, blew in his face, and pinched his nose making him swallow. I worked to heal him for several suns. I hoped I could see his eyes again to be sure it was him, whom I had sought. Though I knew it had to be, and to lose him again in the final sleep would steal my only hope.

The sun seemed to mock me. I worked from before it rose until long after it had disappeared from the sky, stopping only when I could no longer move. Then one bright moon, as I slept I thought I heard him call out to me. In my dreams, I rejoiced. I woke to his arms strong around me. He looked upon me again and I knew it was the boy from so long ago. He again called to me, my Kushtaka, my angel.

The joy at our meeting lasted for many suns and we were as one. We would be apart or alone no more. He knew me, for all of what I was, and it held no fear for me. He spoke of the river and the time he had wondered trying to find my people, in hopes to see me again. I told him that I had acted against the will of my people on that day. The only way my people would ever allow us to become a part of them was if he was willing to change his nature, to become one of my people, forever.

The season of cold finally, left and the blooming season began again. With all the happiness, I could not help but remember my people and as I looked into the small stream, I wondered if I would ever look upon their wondrous faces again. Would I ever feel the joy of dancing in the rivers silken currents?

When I came back into our den, I found him, with his eyes smiling and two packs on his back. “We go to your people. My life is not complete without your joy.” At his words a surprised, joy came over me, and was quickly squashed in despair. How was I to find the river again?

He knew my confusion. He had figured out where my people were and led me over the land for only two suns. As we came near the place where my people were an elder came forward in human form. He spoke with both of us, and blessed our union.

Our elders all came forward some as human others as otter, they all sang a blessing to the running river and anointed us with a poultice of lilies and oil from the sacred waters on our heads and chests. The sun peaked from behind large white clouds lighting our way. We walked to the water’s edge the warm wet earth of the bank beneath our feet. We joined hands as we entered the water. All of my people looked on they had appeared as the elders sang the blessing. A glorious sound like that of the rushing river sang, as did every one of my people. All were now wearing the form of the river and the unearthly beauty of their voices blended with the river, as we shivered and changed. We joined the joyous swim, of my people never to return to the forest.

Written for the Aug 2009 – Sept 2009 contest, "IMAGINE", Formerly Fantastic Fantasy FIve. A contest for fantasy. With a word count of 1781. The prompt used was Kushtaka.

Written from the definition of the Native American lore of the "Kushtaka" - They were the legendary "otter-people" that could wear either the form of a human or an otter

-- Sources -http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kushtaka, and http://www.monstropedia.org/index.php?title=Kushtaka