The Healer’s Den

181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmVISolXpaS

I woke up to the smell of smoke.

Not the sharp, dry sting that normally came from Grandpa's woodstove. This smoke was muskier, earthy, and it carried a sweetness that I couldn't quite place. It brought to mind images of summertime. Of the cozy nights I'd spend gathered around a campfire with Grandma and Grandpa as we told stories under the stars. It brought me peace.

My eyes fluttered open to reveal... I didn't know what. A ceiling of some sort. It was dome-shaped and didn't resemble that of any kind of house or cabin I had ever been inside of before. It felt more like a hut that had been pulled out of an ancient civilization; all wooden and bone supports with layers of hide pulled across it, but perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me.

I shifted and felt something soft against my skin. Fur. I couldn't place what kind, but I could tell that it was thick and fluffy, and that I was buried under layers of it. My whole body felt heavy, and I struggled to summon the strength to move as I tried to get a grasp of where I was.

"Is he awake?" a quiet voice asked from somewhere nearby.

"That, or dead..." came another, deeper voice.

I was met by a pair of strange, light purple eyes as a girl around my age leaned over me, causing her long, dark hair to fall into her face.

"Thorn?" she asked as she tucked a few locks back behind her ear. Her voice was gentle, but tinged with caution.

I parted my lips to say something, trying to form words as my mind reeled.

"W-Where..?" I finally managed to choke out, "Where am I?"

The girl rested a hand against my shoulder, her touch as light as a feather.

"The healer's den," she answered, "You fell through the ice while you were fishing on the lake. Rain was the one that saved you."

I turned my head towards the other figure that stood motionless in a far corner of the shelter. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his tanned skin making him blend almost seamlessly into the background. He too had long, dark hair that fell like a curtain down to his waist, and he was dressed almost entirely in furs and animal hide.

He looked at me from the side; a single pale green eye that stared daggers into me as I struggled to sit up.

The memories all came rushing back to me. The fishing trip, the lake, the ice, and how I'd fallen in and failed to get myself out.

"A-are you guys native?" I asked clumsily, "Like Koyukon, or Inupiaq, maybe?"

The two of them exchanged a confused look. They didn't have to say anything for me to know that they had no idea what I was talking about.

"We are of the Tribe," the girl replied slowly, "You know us, Thorn."

"No, I don't," I argued, "I don't know either of you. My name isn't Thorn. It's David. David Willoughby."

I watched as their looks of confusion gradually morphed into concern as I tried to explain myself. My whole body started to shake, but it wasn't just from the cold this time. Something here wasn't right.

"Let's try this..." the girl said, taking a deep breath as she settled herself on the ground beside me, "Who am I?"

I shook my head. How was I supposed to know?

"You don't know? Alright, then. Who is he?"

She directed a finger towards the man in the corner. She'd said that his name was Rain, but I didn't know anyone by that name, and this guy didn't look familiar to me.

I shook my head again.

"Okay..." she was starting to sound worried, now, "Where are you from?"

My eyes widened. Finally, a question I could actually answer!

"Alaska," I said, "I live on a homestead with my grandma and grandpa, Anita and Thomas Willoughby."

The two of them exchanged another look, their concern deepening. Things got real quiet inside the shelter before the girl spoke again, this time to Rain.

"Go get Storm."

"On it," Rain replied curtly, turning on his heel as he disappeared out of the shelter into god-knows-where.

The girl shifted closer to my side as she placed a hand on my lap.

"It's okay," she said, "We'll get this sorted out. This is likely just a temporary ailment."

I shook my head more aggressively this time, "I just want to go home."

A more sympathetic look settled on this girl's face. She reached for a large metal bowl that sat in a nearby corner, and poured some water into it.

"Here..." she said, passing it to me, "See if you recognize yourself."

I gazed down at my reflection. The person that I saw looking back at me was me... but it also wasn't.

My hair was the same dusty shade of brown it had always been, but it was longer and messier, almost reaching the tops of my shoulders, rather than just covering my ears like it had before.

The eyes that gazed into mine were the same hazel eyes that greeted me in the mirror each morning. There was something to them, though. A feral quality that hadn't been there before. Dark circles surrounded them, likely due to exhaustion from the cold.

My skin was the same complexion, too; lightly tanned from the days I'd spent working outdoors during the summer months. But I noted a couple of features that I know weren't there before. Dark freckles that lightly peppered my nose and cheeks, a scar that cut across my left eyebrow.

This face was mine - the same angles, the same features. And yet, it wasn't me.

The girl gently took the bowl from my hands and set it aside.

"Why don't you tell me about what happened? What do you remember?"

I explained what I could. How I had found myself with a little bit of spare time that day, my decision to go ice fishing, how I had failed to catch anything, falling through the ice, and how I had tried and failed to get myself out. Whatever had happened between then and now, I didn't remember it.

The girl listened intently, her face shifting between different expressions as I recalled those events to her.

"You definitely sound like Thorn..." she stated, resting her head in her hands, "Not exactly the greatest fisher, and he did decide to go to the lake to go cold fishing."

"Well, I was the only one that was out on that lake," I countered, "And I don't know anyone named Thorn. What kind of a name is that, anyway?"

"It's your name."

"No, it's not. I told you, it's David. David Willoughby!"

The girl let out a sigh as she straightened her posture, "It's okay. Storm will know what's going on. He'll be able to help."

Just then, two figures came rushing into the shelter. The first was Rain, now looking more annoyed than concerned. The second was an older man with long, wavy grey hair and an equally long beard. His face bore lines and wrinkles that told of his age, as well as a staff that helped him support his weight.

"Now, what seems to be the problem here?" the old man asked as his deep grey eyes landed on me.

"He's talking crazy!" Rain growled, pointing an accusing finger at me. The gesture exposed a ragged scar that cut across the right side of his face, "He's speaking of names and places we do not know."

The girl turned to them, "He says his name is something like Day... Day-Vivid-Willow-Bee?"

The old man barked out a laugh, "Sounds worse than the names of people from the Tribes of Deep Water..."

"I'm telling you guys the truth!" I said, raising my voice as I pulled the furs closer around me, "My name is David Willoughby. I was born in Alaska. Why don't any of you understand that?"

Rain wrinkled his nose at me, "Why don't you understand that names like that do not exist here?"

The old man shook his head as he stooped down and picked up a small twig.

"Just look here please..." he commanded as he pointed to it.

I followed the twig with my eyes as he moved it around, waving it back and forth, side to side, and up and down. His eyes studied mine from behind it, and Rain and the girl watched on in silence, as if they were waiting for a verdict.

And a verdict came.

"This young man is not Thorn," the old man stated, tossing the twig into the fire.

Confusion settled back into the atmosphere of the shelter as we all stared at him.

Rain turned, "You mean he's gone mind-blank, then?"

"No. Mind-blanks don't do this to people. His name really is, as he says, David Willoughby, and he really is from a land known as Alaska."

"I told you!" I blurted out, slapping a hand against my lap.

It was only then that my stomach dropped. These people didn't know Alaska. They acted as though I was giving them my name in a foreign language that they'd never heard before in their lives. That meant that there was no way they could have known me or my grandparents. Wherever I was now, it was far from anywhere that I called home.

"Can one of you explain to me what the hell is going on?" I asked, my frustration building, "Who are you people? Where am I?"

The old man let out a deep sigh as he and Rain joined the girl at my side.

"You are in the Tribe of the Mountain Forest," he explained, "I am Storm, this tribe's leading shaman. Rain and Flower here assist me as healers. You are known to this tribe as--"

"Thorn, I know," I cut in, "I'm sensing a little bit of a theme, but what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've stolen the life of a member that this tribe already knows," Rain replied, crossing his arms.

"Oh, don't act so upset," Flower teased, bumping him with her shoulder, "This might turn out to be a good thing, actually."

"But how?" I asked, "How did I go from being David Willoughby from Alaska to... Thorn? Who even is Thorn, anyway?"

Rain gave a slight snort, "Nobody that's worth knowing..."

"Not true," Storm finally spoke up, "David has the right to know what awaits him once he's well enough to step outside of the healer's den..."

"That would help," I agreed, "Tell me about him. What was he like?"

Flower shifted uneasily where she sat, "Well, he was... He was certainly a character, for sure."

"Yeah," Rain chimed in, "A character that had already been exiled once from his home tribe in the mountains, and he was one more outburst away from losing his place in this tribe, too."

Yikes... So, whoever Thorn was, he was a problem to these people. Not off to a good start.

"He was a respectable warrior back in his old tribe," Storm explained, "Our chief saw a lot of potential in him."

"Potential does not excuse an ill temper!" Rain snapped.

Flower raised a brow at him, "You're one to talk..."

Rain's eyes narrowed, "You know I'm bound by the Healer's Oath. Do no harm, take no life."

"And if you weren't?"

Rain shifted his gaze from Flower to me. His one good eye looked me over briefly before he finally let out a tut, "We could settle it at the sparring grounds, then."

So Thorn was an aggressive and hostile individual. Not exactly a model citizen, and to Rain, the feeling was clearly mutual. He didn't like Thorn, and Thorn didn't like him. Still, it sucked that he felt the need to make that my problem.

"Was he always like that?" I asked.

"No," Flower replied, "When he first came to us, he was actually quite manageable. Quiet. Cooperative. He was barred from becoming a warrior, but he could hunt and gather. He even managed to find himself a mate."

That last statement made me pause. This guy had a wife? I had a wife?!

Rain must have picked up on my apprehension.

"He has a son, too," he added, giving me a small smirk.

I had a kid?!

"Wait, wait, wait!" I sputtered, "I-I'm only eighteen. I-I've never-"

I clamped my mouth shut as my cheeks started to burn. Throughout my school days, I had only ever had one girlfriend; a fling that had only lasted for a couple of weeks before we decided that it wasn't working out and broke things off.

But a real, serious relationship? A child ?

"You two aren't that far apart in age, then," Storm stated, "Thorn would be turning twenty-one come spring."

I paused. I had also been born in the spring. I guess Thorn and I did have one thing in common, at least.

"Who's his wife?" I asked.

"Her name is Raven," Flower answered, "She is also of the Tribe."

"What's she like?"

"Better than a man like Thorn deserved," Rain grumbled, "You don't need to concern yourself with her. She probably won't be jumping to see you back in her den, anyway."

"Really? Why?"

In reality, I didn't really need to ask. I could already guess the answer.

"Thorn was hostile towards her, as well," Flower explained, "His fights with Raven tended to be vicious. You could hear them going at it all the way from the foot of the mountain. I agree with Rain on this one. I think it's best if you stayed away from her."

I nodded, "And the kid?"

"His name is Shade. He will be turning four come autumn. Thorn has not been kind to him, either."

A sick feeling wormed its way into my gut. Grandma and Grandpa had always reminded me to be respectful towards women and to be patient around children. They always said that women were more powerful and capable than their male counterparts gave them credit for. They taught me how children were always learning, and reminded me that I'd been a child once, too. Apparently, Thorn hadn't grown up learning those lessons.

I'd officially been dropped into the shoes of the village asshole. Fantastic.

"Okay..." I said, taking a breath as I fought to wrap my head around the situation I now found myself in, "But that still doesn't explain why and how I wound up here."

Storm stroked his beard in thought. It reminded me of the way Grandpa would stroke his beard whenever he pondered over a task or a statement.

"You went into the water, correct?" he asked.

I nodded, shuddering at the memory of the moment I had fallen through the ice.

"Water can be tricky. It can return a body, but it has a harder time letting go of the spirit. Our ancestors believed that if the water deemed a spirit worthy, it could be given a second chance in a new life. Typically, they mean in the world that the spirit was originally born into, but I suppose it's possible that it can happen between worlds, as well."

"Well, is there any way for me to get back?" I asked.

Flower, Rain, and Storm exchanged glances. I could tell that my question clearly had an answer, but it wasn't one that I was going to like.

"There is," Storm finally replied, "But it's incredibly risky."

"How risky? What would I have to do?"

"You could try jumping back into the lake," Rain suggested, nodding his head towards the entrance, "See if the water still favors you."

I cringed as I felt tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes. My mind went back to Grandma and Grandpa. I imagined them sitting in the kitchen - table set, dinner waiting, and anxiety building in their chests when they realized I hadn't returned to the cabin on time. They had to be worried sick by now, and it sounded like the only way back was by risking certain death all over again.

Then the thought occurred to me.

"Wait... If my spirit is here, then where's Thorn's?"

Storm frowned, "Well... I can't exactly see the water favoring someone like him."

Rain nodded in agreement, "His body started giving up as I was pulling him out of the lake. His spirit has likely gone off to join the shadows."

I felt my heart sink like a stone in my chest. If all of that was true - that Thorn's spirit was gone and I was here - then that meant that my own body was back at the lake, still clinging to the edge of the ice. Nobody had come to pull me out like Rain had for Thorn. There was no way that I could have survived in the water for that long.

My life with Grandma and Grandpa on the Willoughby homestead was over. I was already dead. 181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUZoivQebhj

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