Soul Caller 1 - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Alone on the face of the cliff, Merrick’s mind was strangely blank. Foot by foot, he climbed up toward the blue sky above, not daring to look down at the expanse of air below him. Soon he was at 75 feet, and then after another hour, at 100. Here he began to slow down, his legs starting to shake as he moved them up. He could feel his arm, where he had suffered the wolf's bite, was starting to weaken, not completely healed, but he couldn't stop now. Every moment that he waited would simply tax his strength even further, making it that much harder to finish the climb.

One hand at a time, he rose further, and when he had climbed 150 feet, he started to feel as if he could not go on. His breath was coming in deep gasps, and the air felt stifling to him. Tiny abrasions on his hands and feet had turned into a dozen scrapes and cuts that left tributes of crimson blood on the rock and there was a part of Merrick that was so tired he genuinely wanted to let go.

Yet once again, he felt something inside of him, some deep-seated burning will that demanded he continue. It was nothing he had ever experienced before, and he wondered if it was part of being a warrior. It was as if there was an iron law written on his soul that refused to give in. Taking a deep breath, he rested for a moment, allowing his weight to hang on the cliff, trusting in the holds that he had chosen. Taking another deep breath, he exhaled it loudly, and then turned his head to look out over the wide expanse. Courage, the elders always said, was looking fear in the face and taking action. And so that's what he did. He was afraid of falling, afraid of the height to which he had climbed, but he knew he didn't have a choice. It was this or death, and so he chose to climb. He chose to face his fear.

Turning his head to scan the basin, he marveled at its beauty, and as he did, he felt the song of the world, which had grown faint in his exhaustion, filling him with energy. His eyes took in the gleaming falls in the distance. He heard the thunderous pound of the water, and it matched his heartbeat, sending energy coursing through his body. With another deep breath, he nodded to himself and began to climb once more, moving faster than he thought possible. The last 50 feet passed in this trance-like state until, reaching up, he found his hand touching nothing but air. Fear spiked through him until he realized that he had reached the edge of the cliff.

It took all of his remaining strength to pull himself up and roll over the edge of the cliff, but once he was safely on top of the cliff, elation raced through him. He was alive. More than that, he was free. Not trusting his trembling legs, he crawled away from the edge of the cliff into the trees that stood a dozen feet away, collapsing at the base of one of them as his body spasmed. It took him nearly half an hour before he had enough strength to stand, and when he did, it was only to climb up the tree, arduously pulling himself into its branches. There he remained until dawn rose the next morning.

The bright morning sun found him chewing the last remaining meat that he had in his pack when he went to survey the basin, but he didn't care. He was out and he was free, and he knew he could find his way home. From here, it would simply be a matter of following the river upstream, tracing it until he found the cliff from which he had fallen. Still shaky from the grueling climb the day before, he began to walk around the top of the basin, heading toward the roaring falls in the distance.

Along the way, he spotted a pheasant and killed it with a well-placed throw of his spear. He wouldn't take any big game on his trip, but would instead hunt small creatures. By steering clear of any of the game that might attract predators he hoped to keep himself out of any more trouble. That afternoon, he stopped to fashion a small trap that he set in the forest and then he climbed up into a tree to spend the night. Though he could have moved faster, his time in the basin had reinforced the idea that patience was paramount. After checking his trap the next morning and retrieving the rabbit that had been caught in it, he resumed his trek toward the river, arriving around noon.

The waterfall was even more impressive from the top than it had been from below, and he shivered to think that he had been caught in its powerful flow and dragged off its edge. There was no good place to cross, so Merrick trotted along the bank, heading upstream away from the basin. It wasn't hard going, and he was able to make good progress each day. Each evening he would set a few traps, and then find a tree to sleep in, hoping to catch a small creature overnight. If he found something in one of his traps the next morning, he would start a fire and cook it up before setting out. He still had both the knife and the spear he had made, and they served him well in both hunting and cleaning the animals he caught.

As far as he knew, it had been close to three weeks since he had fallen into the river, though he wasn't sure how long he had remained unconscious as it dragged him along. He assumed that it couldn't have been for more than a day, but as he continued up the river, he realized that it was further than he thought. On the third day since he started following the river, he saw the signs of the mountain valley in the distance and his heart leapt in his chest. This was where his tribe made its home, and the mountain from which they surveyed their hunting lands rose clearly in the distance, its peak seeming to kiss the sky. On the fourth day, he entered the hunting lands the tribe used and started to see signs of the hunters from his village.

Running through the woods, he felt a faint prickle at the back of his neck and quickly stopped, putting his spear on the ground. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew that there was someone in the brush around him. Looking around, he spoke in a clear voice, not wanting to cause any confusion.

“I am Merrick of the Sky Mountain tribe. I’m on my way back to the tribe after being lost.”

All around him, the underbrush shook and five hunters slowly revealed themselves, looking at him in shock.

“Merrick? You’re that young one who fell from Sky Mountain?”

The leader of the hunting group came closer, his eyes squinting as he examined Merrick’s bedraggled appearance. Merrick was wearing a roughly stitched wolf skin around his chest and waist, and carried a small deerskin bag along with his knife and spear. If the hunter hadn’t  known better, he would have assumed that he was looking at a wanderer who lacked a tribe rather than a young member of the tribe who hadn’t even finished the adulthood ceremony.

“You look like you have had quite the experience,” the hunter said, showing his canines happily. “The tribe searched for you for two weeks, but we didn’t find your body, so we all assumed you were dead and your corpse had been eaten by a wild animal. Everyone will be pleased to know you’re still alive. Come on, we were about to head back, so you can come with us.”

Merrick had never thought of himself as particularly sentimental, but when the village came into view, he felt like he might cry. He was with the hunters returning from a successful hunt, and stood out like a sore thumb in his dirty wolf skin tunic. Still, he was happy to be home and didn't mind the  strange looks he was getting. Soon, one of the villagers realized it was him, and word spread quickly through the village. By the time he saw his sister's house, she was out front, running towards him with excitement and fury in her face. He winced, knowing what a thunderous scolding he was in for, but instead, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight without saying a word as hot tears rolled down his chest. Over her head, he saw his brother-in-law. Jorn’s typical silly grin was gone, replaced by an intense expression of relief that pierced him deeply.

Sniffing, Estva stepped back, holding him at an arm's length as she looked him over, taking in his ragged appearance.

“You’re a mess.”

With that declaration, she dragged him inside and pointed to the room he had used before.

"Go get cleaned up. Dinner's already started but we’ll wait for you."

Her words were short and direct, but Merrick knew that was just how his sister was, and it suited him just fine. Peeling his dirty clothing off his body, he plunged into the cool water in the tub. Such an act would have taken his breath away before, but he had been bathing in the ice cold lake for nearly a month, so the bath felt almost warm. As he scrubbed his body, watching the dirt wash away, he reflected over the last few weeks and what a strange time it had been. He was still processing it, but there was a sense in which he felt like a completely different person than the young man who had climbed Sky Mountain for the Warrior’s Test three weeks ago. Putting on fresh clothing that his sister had tossed into the room, he left his tattered wolf skin coat on the floor in a pile and headed to the main building.

They were at the edge of the village, along the village’s wall, and their compound was simple, made up of four buildings and a small yard surrounded by a wooden gate. Jorn, though a skilled hunter, was not particularly handy, and it had only been through hiring some of the other villagers that Jorn and Estva had been able to build the house. His sister and brother-in-law lived in the compound’s main building, a circular hut about 30 feet across, and this was his destination. The hut was a single room that held their bedroom, the dining room where they ate, and a small fire pit. It was here that Merrick had eaten most of his meals when he was in the village. As he stepped through the doorway, he saw his sister staring at him.

The table was full of food, and it looked like more had just been added, making it a veritable feast. In silence, Estva and Jorn looked at him, and he looked back at them, suddenly feeling awkward. Estva, in her normal brusque way, pointed to a seat.

"Come on, I'm hungry."

Merrick was starving as well and he hurried to join his sister and brother-in-law at the table. Saying a simple prayer to thank the spirits for the meal they were about to eat, they dug in. The meal consisted of meat, fruit, and flatbread, and Merrick piled his plate high. Watching him devour the food, Estva began putting more meat on his plate, and Merrick nodded his thanks, eating it all with relish. He swallowed a whole bowl full of vegetables in less than a minute, nearly choking as he wolfed down his food. By the time the meal was over, Merrick had eaten enough for three people, but his sister didn't seem to mind, continuing to put more food onto his plate until he held up his hands to protest.

"I'm full. I'm really full," he said, looking longingly at the food on his plate.

After the days of hunger he had felt, he would have stuffed it in if he could, but his stomach really was full.

Jorn jumped up, saying, "I'll clear everything, and then I want to hear this story.”

Nodding, Estva rose to help her husband in clearing the table, soon returning with a bit of honey candy that they divided up for desert. Once Jorn was sitting again, he leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into Merrick.

“Alright, Merrick, what happened to you?"

Seeing that his sister was looking at him too, Merrick knew the time had come, and so he began to tell of his experience, starting from the moment when the strange occurrence on Sky Mountain had sent him tumbling off the cliff. When he got to his first encounter with the wolf, his sister gasped, and his brother-in-law’s eyes widened.  But it was his encounter with the second wolf that seemed to bring Estva and Jorn a better realization of how close he had truly come to dying. In hushed silence, they listened as he continued, speaking of his attempts to hunt, his exploration of the basin, and finally, his fleeing from the bear. When he finished and fell silent, the room was filled with silence. In a quiet voice, Estva looked at him deeply and said, "I'm really glad you're home."

"Me too," Merrick said, "me too."

Jorn, who had been staring at Merrick with narrowed eyes, suddenly rose and went to a small box set at the foot of the large bed. Opening the chest up, he retrieved an animal skin scroll and returned to the table. Undoing the leather string, he unrolled it on the table, revealing a detailed map. It was a map of the lands  surrounding Sky Mountain, hand-drawn, no doubt Jorn's work. With a finger, he marked the spot where Merrick had fallen and then traced his other finger along the river that had carried Merrick to the basin. Astonishment dawned in his eyes and he glanced up at Merrick.

"You know, I think I know where that basin is, and it's deep, probably 200 or 300 feet deep. It's amazing that you survived the fall, even more amazing that you were able to climb out. Can you show me where you climbed back up?"

Examining the map, Merrick did his best to approximate, describing exactly how he had spotted the cracks and climbed up them. Letting out a low whistle, Jorn shook his head.

"That is a tremendous feat, one you should be proud of, one that should only be possible for a warrior."

As he spoke the words, his eyes seemed to pierce through Merrick’s soul and he knew his secret was out. A faint nod was all Jorn needed, causing the hunter to slap his knee as he laughed with excitement.

"Fantastic! You know, it's always been rumored that it's possible for people to awaken even without going through the ceremony, but this, this is incredible. You have to tell the elders."

Estva, not quite as quick to pick up on what Jorn and Merrick were talking about, looked between them, her brow furrowing. Sensing the coming storm, Merrick hurried to let his sister in on the secret, "I'm a spirit warrior. I've been blessed by a spirit."