Guest writer: short story “Bildungsroman”

Bildungsroman

By Nick Perkins

The time had come.  Kira smoothed his ceremonial robe with slightly shaking hands, turning this way and that to get a better look at himself in the mirror.  “Don’t chicken out now,” he told his reflection.  “You’ve been waiting for this for months.”  His reflection didn’t respond- but then, it never did.  Kira tried not to take it personally.

Tap, tap!  Someone was knocking at the door.  “Must be time,” he told the mirror.  He flattened his hair, made one last check on his robes, and opened the door.  His Mom was standing in the entryway, her hair braided with black and blue flowers.  She was the mourning mother, simultaneously lamenting the loss of her child and celebrating his coming of age.  Kira wanted to give her a hug, but contact was expressly forbidden.  As was speaking; his Mom said not a word, gesturing instead for him to follow.  Silently, he obeyed.

She led him to a dark cavern, lit only by the flames of many different torches lining the walls.  Each had a different color, symbolizing different elements and spiritual pathways.  The many lights cast an eerie, unsettling shade over the waiting ceremony. 

His Mom took him to the center of the cavern where the Shaman stood waiting, leaning on the feathered bird skull fixed to the top of her carved staff.  Her bright golden bird mask shone in the many different lights, and the tassel hanging from it seemed to twirl hypnotically as he approached.  He stopped several paces before her and bowed low.

“Kira.”  His name echoed through the cavern, which was completely empty save for him, the Shaman, and his parents.  “You have reached the threshold of manhood.  The passage into adulthood is not an entitlement; it is earned.  Are you prepared for the task which the Spirits have set for you?”

“I am.”

“Then listen well.  You must go to the forest, to the place of the Moon Dance, and draw a large circle in the clearing there.  Make it well, and do not allow anything to disrupt or break it.  Sit in the center and call upon the Spirit of Tribulations.  When it comes, you must do battle with it.  Best it in combat, overcome your fears, and you shall truly be a man.

“But be warned.  Should you fail, should you allow your spirit to waver and be overcome, you will be cast out of the tribe.  You will be forever dead to us, and the title ‘Tel’ will be forced upon you, signifying your status as banished.  Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“One final word of warning.  The Spirit you call upon is wild and dangerous.  The circle you will draw is for the safety of the tribe as well as for your own.  Dig deep into the earth, and do not allow anything to break it.  Should the circle be broken, the Spirit of Tribulations will be set free.  This must not happen.  Do you understand?”

“I do.”

 The grass was soft underneath his feet.  The dew sparkled in the light of the full moon overhead, reflecting the stars above in every single blade of grass.  It was like a little sky was contained in each drop of rainwater, and Kira wondered whether there really were whole worlds in each drop. 

The clearing was wide and perfectly circular.  He took a stick from a nearby tree, bowing and thanking it for its gift, and dragged it along the clearing’s edge.  The soil parted easily underneath the wood as if it was used to this, and Kira wondered how many other kids had been in this exact position.  Did everyone go through this, or was it different for every child?  Kira had no way of knowing; it was forbidden to discuss one’s coming-of-age trial with anyone other than the Shaman.  He wouldn’t even be allowed to talk about it with his parents, assuming that he overcame the Spirit of Tribulations.  Which he would; of course he would.  How could he not?

The circle was complete.  Kira walked along its length, checking to make sure that it was perfect and unbroken the whole way around.  Everything seemed fine, so he went to the center of the circle and sat with his legs crossed.  He looked up to the full moon, raised his arms to the heavens, and began to summon the Spirit. 

The air within the circle began to shimmer as he chanted.  Kira couldn’t see anything but a hazy mess of colors, but the moon was still in perfect view.  He kept his eyes fixed on it to keep from getting sick.  A dark mist began to gather several meters before him, concentrating into one space and forming what looked like limbs.  Soon a body was made, crafted entirely of dark mist, and two gleaming eyes opened to stare at the boy before it.  The Spirit of Tribulations had arrived.

Kira stood and bowed.  “O great Spirit,” he intoned, “I am Kira, and I have come to be Tried.”

The Spirit said nothing, for it had no mouth to speak with.  Apart from its eyes, its body was a solid mass of smoke.  It stood at exactly his height, its arms no bigger than his, and for that Kira was grateful.  They would be meeting on even ground; he’d feared that the Spirit would be at least twice his height.  But it matched his own body so perfectly that it couldn’t be a coincidence.  This Trial would be a fair one, and the outcome would rely totally on his strength and skills.

 +++

Kira never remembered quite what happened next.  Everything was a writhing mass of adrenaline, dark smoke, and heaving muscles.  Neither of them seemed to gain the upper hand, and no matter how hard Kira pushed, he was always matched by the Spirit.  The reverse wasn’t true; if Kira slipped up for even a moment, if his will weakened, then the Spirit inevitably gained the upper hand until Kira regained his resolve and pushed his body past its limits again.  The minutes ticked by, the two fighters wrestling on the dewy grass, and the moon continued its serene path through the heavens overhead.

Kira was exhausted.  His whole body was covered in sweat, and every bit of him burned.  He’d never worked so hard in his life, but the Spirit didn’t seem fazed.  It kept coming at him again and again, pounding away at the young warrior with supernatural force, Kira desperately doing his best to keep from being pinned. 

He could not lose!  No matter how hard this was, he would not give up!  Losing meant exile, eternal banishment, never going home or seeing his family again; Kira would not let that happen!  He kept pushing, giving the fight everything he had, because there was nothing to hold back for.  Nothing mattered if he didn’t win this; nothing!

The sound of shouting voices penetrated the battle haze and made him look round.  The Spirit capitalized on this and tried to tackle him, but Kira managed to dodge it.  Two hunters- human hunters- were running through the forest, chasing after a wild boar and waving their spears menacingly.  Both Kira and the Spirit turned, distracted by the unwelcome newcomers. 

The boar rampaged through the clearing, squealing as it ran from the men.  Its side was covered in blood, the red stuff flowing freely from a large wound in its side.  It ripped through the clearing and into the forest beyond, and Kira’s eyes widened as it stomped right on the circle he’d so carefully crafted.  The hunters ran through, not glancing at either the Spirit or Kira, and they too stepped on the circle as they chased after their prey.

The circle was broken.  The air seemed to hiss as if some invisible bubble had been popped, and fresh air rushed into the clearing for the first time in what seemed like forever. The Spirit turned to Kira, its eyes gleaming, and its smoky body dissolved into the night.  The shapeless dark mist flowed through the air, over the broken circle, and disappeared into the trees after the hunters.

“No, wait!”  Kira ran after it, panting, his legs on fire, but it was too fast.  He cursed, pelting after it into the forest.  The circle had been broken; the Spirit of Tribulations was free.  The one thing that the Shaman had warned him about; how could he be so stupid?  What would the Spirit do now?  Had he put the whole tribe in danger?  His Mom, his Dad, the Shaman; what was going to happen?

He jumped over a log and skidded to a halt.  The hunters were lying on the ground, their spears lying uselessly by their sides, their eyes wide and their faces frozen in terror.  There was no blood, but their throats were purple and their faces white; it looked almost like they’d been strangled to death.  Kira passed by them, trying not to throw up.  Fear pounded through his veins, spurring him onward, making the pain of the hours spent wrestling fade into the background as his second wind kicked in. 

He reached a stream and stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration.  Where was he supposed to go now?  Which way would it go?  An image of the black mist seeping into the caves, spreading through his home and wrappings its dark tendrils around his Mom’s throat, came into his head, and his breath became very fast and very shallow. 

“Whoo,” he said, pacing back and forth by the babbling stream, “calm down, calm down.  Breathe, Kira, breathe.  Okay, what do we do?”  He wished he knew some real magic, but his training wasn’t supposed to really start until after he finished his Trial, and the way this was going, it didn’t seem too likely that he’d be getting any lessons in Fire Magic anytime soon.  He’d be cast out of the tribe, sent into exile, forced to wander the wilderness forever, never to see his Mom, his Dad, or any of his friends again.

“No,” he said, stopping and punching his palm, “I won’t let that happen!  I just- I just need a plan!”

He took a few shaky breaths, making an effort to slow his thoughts and calm his body.  Plans came from purpose, not panic.  After his breathing was nice and slow, he set his mind to work.  First he recapped what had already happened: he’d been wrestling the Spirit of Tribulations when the protective circle had been broken.  The Spirit was now free and, though it could be heading towards the tribe, Kira had no way of knowing where it really was.  He needed to find it.

+++ 

Kira turned and ran back the way he’d came, running as quickly as he could back to the clearing of the Moon Dance.  The celestial orb was low in the sky; it wouldn’t be too long before it sank completely.  Dawn was on the way, and the coming of the sun filled the not-quite-an-adult with urgency.  Who knew whether the magic would work after the moon set? 

He reached the clearing, grabbed the stick, and retraced the line he’d already dug into the earth.  Once the breaks had been repaired, he dug a new circle several more feet in, pushing the stick as deeply into the soil as it would go.  He may have fixed the original circle, but he didn’t want to take the chance that there was some supernatural rule saying that the same circle couldn’t be used twice.  And besides, another protective circle couldn’t be anything but good.  His stick snapped halfway through the new circle, but he just stooped over more and kept digging.  When it was finished, he gently placed both halves of the stick back against its tree, bowing, and pelted back to the center of the clearing. 

He sat cross-legged, as he had before, raised his arms to the moon, and began to chant.  The Spirit of Tribulations was still a Spirit; it was bound the same laws as ever.  There was no reason to think that it couldn’t be both summoned and contained in the same way as before.  That’s what Kira hoped, anyway.

The air began to shimmer, and Kira nearly cried.  It was working!  He fixed his eyes on the full moon, though it had nearly sunk below the horizon, until the air stilled and the mist began to reappear.  When the Spirit’s body formed, its eyes glared out at him in hatred.  Kira could understand its frustration; it couldn’t be fun to be dragged back into confinement so soon after being freed. 

“I won’t fail,” he told the smoke.  “I won’t be beaten by you!” 

There was no delay this time, no face-off between the two fighters.  The Spirit charged, and Kira met it with a scream of defiance.  He tackled it, and the two tumbled to the ground, writhing with each other as both fought for the upper hand.  The battle was just like how it’d been before.  Both Kira and the Spirit were both fighting as hard as they could, neither letting up, both working their hardest to come out on top.  But regardless of willpower, this was still a battle between natural and supernatural beings.  Kira was already exhausted, and his second wind was rapidly fading.  The Spirit didn’t seem to let up, and the young warrior was finding it harder and harder to keep up with the mass of smoke.  Though they continued to grapple as they had always done, Kira could tell that the Spirit was gaining the upper hand.   He pushed his body as hard as he could, but the Spirit always met him in every move he made.

His vision was beginning to swirl.  His head pounded, and it was getting more and more difficult to breathe.  Kira didn’t know how much longer he could keep doing this.  His eyesight seemed to go completely, and he stopped relying on his sense of sight.  Everything was just based around touch; holding the corporeal smoke, grappling with it, feeling their two bodies locked in a deadly embrace… then even that started to fade.

A ray of light broke into the clearing.  The sun had risen.  It touched the Spirit’s dark body, and immediately the smoke dissolved underneath it.  The mist comprising its form broke apart as the sunlight pierced into it, and soon there was nothing left to show of the Spirit of Tribulations except for one very sweaty, very tired mortal.

Kira rolled onto his back, breathing heavily, too tired to process what had just happened.  The sunlight bathed his form in warmth, and he closed his eyes, gazing at the bright sunspots imprinted on his eyelids.  The grass was so soft and moist underneath him, though that was probably more from sweat than anything else at this point.  His shoulders relaxed, his arms seeming to melt into the ground below him.   The air hissed as if a great bubble had been popped, and the scent of the forest pine flooded his nostrils.  Had the circle been broken?  Kira was too tired to care.

+++

The pillow was soft underneath his head.  He snuggled into it, his arms wrapped tightly around it as he pulled the warm sheets closer.  So comfortable….

“Welcome back, Kira.”

“Mm?”  Kira opened his eyes blearily and saw the golden bird mask of the Shaman staring back at him.  That mask was only worn during important ceremonies; why was she wearing it now?  Also, why was she watching him sleep?

“It’s time to wake up now.  You’ll be able to rest again soon, but the ritual isn’t finished yet.  Come on, Kira; time to get up.”  Her voice was soft, but her words definitely weren’t.  Kira’s whole body ached, and the idea of doing anything but closing his eyes again was horrible and ugly. 

She poked him with her staff, and Kira groaned.  “Okay,” he said, his words slurred and barely intelligible, “I’m getting up.”  He pushed the sheets back and swung his legs out of bed, rubbing his eyes with a knuckle and grumbling deep in his throat.  He stood, wobbling slightly, and tried to flatten his wrinkled, grass-stained, sweat-soaked robes.  They smelled horrible; even without sniffing them, he could tell that they reeked.  “Ew,” he said.

“You can change soon,” the Shaman said from behind her mask, “now come on.  The Spirits are waiting.”

Right.  The coming of age ceremony.  “I did it?  I passed?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?  But come, we’ll talk about it there.”

It turned out that ‘there’ was only a couple of rooms away.  He was in the Shaman’s home, and they were only heading to a small altar at the other end of the cave.  Kira was really glad that it was so close; he didn’t feel up to walking long distances at the moment.

They sat down around the altar’s fire pit, and the Shaman stirred a pot set over the pit’s logs.  The fire was out, so it must already be cooked.  Kira didn’t know what was in the pot, but if it was food, he hoped it was still warm.  Cold soup wasn’t exactly a favorite of his.

“Tell me what happened tonight.”

The instruction was simple, but Kira hesitated.  The circle had been broken, and two men had died.  Human men, not of the tribe, but still- life had been lost because of his mistake.  He was afraid to tell the Shaman that; he’d passed the Trial, but if she found out that he’d put the whole tribe at risk, she might exile him anyway. 

She stirred the pot and waited.

Kira took a deep breath and said, “I dug the circle and summoned the Spirit of Tribulations.  We wrestled, and I don’t know how, but I managed to keep up with it.  If I ever thought about giving up, though, it would tackle me.  I guess that means something.”

He paused, wondering if she wanted to say something, but she just kept stirring the pot.  He continued.  “Everything was going great,” he said slowly, “but then… something happened.”  He exhaled shakily, his stomach roiling.  A ball of anxiety had twisted into his chest, and he knew that his eyes were starting to burn.  “I, it, I mean-” he exhaled again, his hands tugging at his robe, and tried again.  His throat was burning now too, and something was pricking at his eyes.  “Hunters,” he said quickly, spitting the word out before he lost his nerve, “hunters came in.  They were chasing a boar- I didn’t know, I couldn’t do anything- and they broke the circle, and the Spirit got free, and-” he gasped, tears trickling down his cheeks, “and it killed them!  I found their- their bodies in the woods; it’d choked them to death!”

He looked at the Shaman, but she just kept stirring that pot.  Kira looked back down at his legs, salty tears dripping off the tip of his nose and splatting onto his robes.  “I was afraid,” he whispered.  “I tried to find it, but I couldn’t.  What if it was going to the tribe, what if it was going to choke Mom and Dad just like those hunters?  I couldn’t- I didn’t know what to do!”  He took a shuddering breath and plowed on, throwing himself into the story and laying himself down at the Shaman’s feet.  “I went back to the clearing and dug a new circle,” he said, “summoned the Spirit again.  We fought.  I was losing; I was tired, so tired.  My vision went all hazy, it was hard to breathe, I couldn’t see- then the sun came up, and it- it just vanished!  I don’t know what happened next,” he said, “someone must’ve found me and taken me here.  I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I failed.  I let the circle break.  I put everyone in danger.”  His shoulders slumped.  “Kira Tel,” he said, his voice broken, “I suppose I’d better get used to it.”

The Shaman said nothing.   She stirred the pot one last time and released the spoon, looking deep into Kira’s face.  He didn’t have the courage to look her back; it was easier, far easier, to stare at the floor. 

“Kira,” she said at last, “look at me.”

Kira did.  Crying, miserable wreck though he was, he obeyed and looked the Wise Woman in the eye.

“Do you know what your Trial was tonight?”

“To- to summon and defeat the Spirit of Tribulations.”

“Yes and no,” she said. “Physical prowess was never a part of the ritual, Kira.  You may have noticed that the Spirit formed itself to your likeness- it matched you strength for strength.  You said it yourself; you two were perfectly matched.  The only time it gained the upper hand was when you lost faith- when you began to give up.  If you had completely lost the will to go on, it would have defeated you.  But you didn’t.”

“So?”  Kira’s voice was dull.  “The circle was broken.  Two humans died.”

“The circle was broken,” she said, nodding in agreement, “but not by you.  Don’t you shake your head at me, boy,” she said, her tone growing a little sharper, “do you think I don’t know what I say?”

“Two humans died,” he whispered.  “Lives were lost because of me.  Whether I broke the circle or not, what does it matter?”

“Nobody died last night.”  Kira looked up.  “Those weren’t humans,” she said.  “They were constructs; magically animated creatures of soil bound to do a living person’s bidding.”

“Who’s?”

“Mine.”  Kira stared at her.  She smiled.  “The will to go on fighting is a great virtue,” she said, “but courage is nothing without wisdom.  Your Trial was three-fold; first, the combat.  Did you have the power to force aside the aches and pains of the body, to make yourself continue to fight?  Second, did you have the wisdom to clear your mind of panic and make a choice?  I watched as you ran back to the clearing and summoned the Spirit again; you made the right decision.  An adult needs to be able to set aside his panic and concentrate on what needs to be done.  You proved this night that you can overcome your fear and find the best way out.”

“But,” Kira said slowly, “if the Trial had three parts, and if the battle and the- the other thing were the first two, then what was the third?”

She smiled again, her mask glimmering.  “The third test was whether you would lie to me or not.  Would you be a childish coward and hide the truth, try and cover up your mistake, and ignore the fact that you put the tribe in danger?  Would you be too afraid of exile that you would lie to me, lie to save your own skin?  Or would you have the courage to look me in the face and admit that you did wrong?  Adults need to hold themselves accountable for their mistakes, Kira; they need to have the courage to recognize and admit when they fall.”

This was all too much.  Kira groaned and nestled his head in his hands.  There was so much being laid on him, and he was still so tired; he just wanted to sleep and forget about all of this.

“If you had failed any one of these three tests,” the Shaman continued, “you would have failed the Trial, and you would have immediately been exiled from the tribe.  However, you did not.  You passed every challenge thrown at you, Kira.”

Kira looked up.  The Shaman smiled at him and dipped a finger into the pot.  When it came out again, it was covered in glistening golden goo.  He closed his eyes as she reached for his face, and he shivered as he felt the slimy substance touch his forehead.  She began to draw on his skin, first painting his forehead, then his right cheek, then finally his left.  “You had the Power to battle on, even when all hope seemed lost and the Spirit was close to overcoming you.  You had the Wisdom to calm the panic raging inside you and make a plan.  Finally, you had the Courage to tell the hard, painful truth, even though you had much to lose by doing so.”

She pulled her hand away.  All the goo was gone, and her finger was as clean as if she’d just washed it.  “Kira, when you came to me tonight, you were but a boy.  You have faced your Trial and overcome it.  Now, stand before me as a man.”

He stood, warmth spreading through his chest and ballooning up, up, up into his throat.  She pulled a mirror out of her pocket and showed him his reflection.  The emblems of Power, Wisdom, and Courage, those three Virtues which his tribe honored above all others, were shining brightly on his forehead and cheeks.  Though the goo had been gold originally, each symbol now radiated their respective colors: Power with the mountain’s red fire, Wisdom with the serenity of the blue lake, and Courage with the wild life of the endless green forest.  His eyes burned and his throat tightened, but out of something other than fear or misery this time.

With a sob, he grabbed the Shaman and pulled her into a hug.  She tensed at the unexpected gesture, but then she relaxed and held him as a grandmother would.  “You overcame your fear,” she whispered, “remember that.  When you’re afraid, remember this night.  Remember how you conquered your fear and took control of your body and your mind.  Remember this night- the night you became a man.”