Shaman

part 1

Pacal,

I hope that this letter finds you well. I wish I could be writing with good tidings, but alas. My land is in great peril and I must ask you for help. I believe that an artifact mentioned in one of your legends will be able to help us. I have sent my protégé, Jewl, in my stead. She is what your people would call a shaman. Please do whatever you can to aid her.

Pastor Mordecai

I returned the letter to my backpack with a sigh. It was hard to believe that I was once again leaving a life I was comfortable with to go off to some foreign land all by myself with only what things I could carry and no idea what I was doing. Though I had to admit it was kind of exciting at the same time. And I knew Pastor Mordecai believed I could do this, so I had to try to believe that I could too. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him. I considered going up on the deck for some fresh air, but I didn't like how some of the sailors looked at me. Instead I lay down on the cot to let the ship gently rock me to sleep.

* * *

The next morning I stepped off the boat into hot, blinding sunlight. The village was a collection of wooden huts with roofs made of long leaves. Nearby women were tending gardens. Farther off men worked in fields of some tall plant. The women wore simple dresses while the men only had loincloths on. They all had copper colored skin and dark hair. When they saw me they stopped their work to stare.

After an extended awkward moment a man exited one of the buildings and approached me. He was gigantic. I only stood up to his elbows. He was wearing a loincloth and a long animal skin cape, revealing his bulging muscles and scars. He had long, black hair tied back in braids. His ears, nose, and lips were pierced. His eyes were crossed and his forehead angled back slightly. In his hand was a spear with a black stone tip.

"Your people have caused mine much suffering. Want do you want?"

I gathered all the courage I could and started speaking awkwardly. "I know you don't trust me now, but I'm not here to hurt anyone. Actually, I'm here because I need your help."

"You want my help? Explain."

I set down my backpack to rummage through it for the letter and handed it to him. I stood there nervously while he read it.

"So, Jewl, you are here to seek the staff. If you were any other I would drive you away, but the pastor's words have weight with me. I will consider aiding you if you can prove yourself worthy.

* * *

It was mercifully cool inside Pacal's house. Clay pots, leaf mats, various stone tools, and woven baskets were set around the room. A group of six children were playing with toys on the dirt floor. When they saw me they came over to gaze up at me curiously. I smiled and sat down next to them. They took turns fussing with my hair, touching my face, and turning my hands over. Then Pacal said something in his language and they went back to what they were doing before.

A woman entered carrying a tray of food. She raised an eyebrow at Pacal when she saw me. He went to her to have a discussion in their language. She scowled then went back outside.

Pacal and his children set out mats on the floor for themselves and me. Once we were seated I asked him something that I had been wondering. "How did you learn to speak common so well?"

"The pastor worked at the mission here long ago. He wanted us to learn each other's words and ways. Most refused, but I saw that he was a wise man. And it is good to know the speech of one's enemies."