By The Nanuak
Published: October 13, 2007
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The diamond like dew shone lazily in the sunlight, as it clung to the emerald grass. A sparrow fluttered over and landed carefully on the floor of the clearing. Its tiny black eyes scanned the scene for danger; none. It lifted its short beak and began pecking the ground ferociously, searching for prey. Each time its beak penetrated the soft loamy soil, but to no avail. Why was there nothing here? Not a single bird twittered in one of the few scattered trees. Not even a bold field mouse, dared scurry through these grasses! Sudden realisation halted the sparrows unrelenting searching. It was too late. The vipers mouth closed around the tiny bird, its long, forked tongue, as black as the night sky, flickered on the soft feathers of the sparrow. With a single bite, the viper could stop the sparrows erratically fast heartbeat. The snake hissed, it opened its gaping mouth. The bird hopped out, and surveyed the viper. The snake hissed again. The sparrow took the warning and soared into the sky. The message of the viper was clear. He was not meant to be there.


The bats skeletal wings were tired. Her whole body was tired. She felt dizzy. Sleeping in the night and journeying in the day, was never a good idea for a bat, especially one of her age! A sparrow swooped past, its eyes glinted with terror, it was trying to escape something. Or somewhere, the bat thought. Her eyes scanned the scene. The brilliant blue of the sky, not a single cloud dappled its brilliance. The harsh green of the coniferous redwoods and pines. The glare of the golden orb, forever illuminating the world which she fought to protect. The bat smiled to herself. The gift of sight. How ecstatic she had been when she had received it from the world spirit, all those millennia’s ago, in the Beginning, when she was just a pup! Her eyes darted from tree to tree searching for the clearing. How much longer? Fatigue was catching up with her. She ploughed on, desperate to reach her destination. After all, the meeting of the ancients only happened once every hundred winters. Ah, finally. The bat swooped lower, until finally landing on the luscious grass of a clearing, next to the viper.


The wolf ran. It sprinted through the trees, over streams and across rocks. And it enjoyed every second of it. Its body was gracefully arched as it continued its lope. Another thousand years, another age of watching, protecting. And now it was, once again time. Time for the clans which they sought so hard to protect, to give something back. Of course, the occasional fish head, or handful of Lingon berries was nice enough, but not enough to repay there hard work. The wolf stopped by a slowly trickling stream. It lowered its majestic head gracefully, and began to lap at the cool refreshing water. The liquid cleansed him. He then trotted through the stream, and snacked on a dead jay bird. The food gave him strength. He had been journeying for many daywalks now. He was not tired. He may be ancient, but he was not old. His body was that of a young wolf, agile and quick. Yet his mind was that of an age old raven, wise and intelligent. The trees were beginning to thin. At last, he sped into the clearing, his destination, and thudded to a halt, by the viper and the bat.


The woman, the raven, the mage strolled through the forest. Her wispy hair swayed left and right in the slight breeze. Every now and then she muttered angry curses. She clutched a rowan staff. Her talon like nails pierced a nearby tree. She drank some of the Oak blood, for energy, sealed the wound and left some for the guardian. The guardian, she thought. This had been an inconvenience to the mage. Today was to be a crucial lesson for the girl. However, she could not deny that she was excited at the prospect of meeting the ancients again. Once every thousand years, the clans were required to give something back to the guardians. They do this by sending a mage, into the magical clearing, to present the three most ancient guardians, aptly named the three ancients, with a gift. As the mage trudged on, her thoughts began to wander to the girl. So stubborn. Yet, her talent for mage craft was immense. She could not let it go untapped. She was wrenched from her personal thoughts by the appearance of the clearing. She had arrived. The three ancients were sitting, side by side, staring happily at her. The bat of sight, the kind viper and the singing wolf. The mage wasted no time. She lit a fire in the centre of the clearing, and the flames turned the deepest shade of crimson. The ancients crowded round the flames, there eyes wide with wonder. The woman approached the wolf, and took a single hair from its pelt. She turned towards the viper, and took a single loose scale from its long slender body. She walked calmly to the bat, and plucked a tiny amount of minuscule hairs from under its wings. With all these gathered, she spat into the her hands. She mixed the spit with the hairs and scale.
“May the language of my race be heard to these ancients, until the ritual is complete.” she shouted, and cast the mixture into the fire. The hairs and scale burnt immediately and disappeared. The spit evaporated. The fire turned purple. She gifted the wolf, with speed. So fast, that when he ran, he was invisible. She gifted the bat with tireless age, so she would be young forever. And finally she gifted the viper with the language of all people, and animals in the world, so he may commune with whom he likes. Saeunn bowed to the ancients, and headed back to camp.