The Power of Spirits

Chapter 1

It was the second to longest night of the year. The sun will rise for a few hours tomorrow, before the arctic night, which will last for over a month. Today was the day. Tulugaak Nukilik Tulok would open his connection with the Spirits, and receive his totem. His heart began to beat faster and faster within his chest as he watched the eastern horizon for the slightest hint of gathering light. Around him, the world was white with a fresh coat of glistening snow. The pine trees no longer swayed in the breeze, but hung low, burdened by their frosty coat. Mountains rose on either side of the valley, to the North and South. Below him, the river ran east, and the Pissikartok Amarok tribe camped near its waters.

As he waited, Tulugaak carved animals into his spear, as he had seen other warriors and hunters do, to invite qualities of those animals to accompany them on their various journeys. A bear, for strength and patience, a wolf, for endurance and strategy, an owl, for stealth and intelligence, a mammoth, for persistence and sympathy, a saber-toothed cat, for courage and observance, and a deer, for agility and awareness. He contemplated each of these and others that might be revealed tomorrow morning as his totem. It would be his task tomorrow to learn it, to understand it, and to connect to it.

Overhead, the Spirits danced into our world as the chief prepared the village for the ceremony.He was lighting the fire to invite the Spirits to be with us, and guide the choosing of my totem. The valley was bathed in a shifting green glow, and the fire down in the village seemed to follow the movements of the lights from Tulugaak's perspective. It seemed as though there was a soft, whispering music emanating from the Spirit world, a soothing sound. It seemed to wash away the cold, and filled him with a glowing, pulsing warmth. He raised his eyes from the horizon to the sky, smiling, and basked in the light of magic. Every time, it was a different pattern, a different message in the sky, and it was always magnificent to behold. As miraculous and unique as snowflakes, as grand and majestic as mountains. As he watched, the lights dissolved into the brightening sky as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon. The inner warmth of the lights vanished, and icy butterflies began to flutter in its place. The time had come.

Tulugaak raced from his post on the mountainside to a safe spot to slide down the hill on the wooden board he carried with him. He glided through the familiar forest all the way to the edge of the village. A wall of family and friends greeted him as he approached the bonfire circle in the center of the camp. They let him through, then gathered in a circle around a tall fire of shed caribou and moose antlers. The chief, Amaqjuaq, the Strong One, stood close to the fire, and beckoned for Tulugaak to approach. When Tulugaak stood next to him, Amaqjuaq turned to the villagers gathered around him.

"Today, we celebrate the beginning of the eighteenth winter of Tulugaak Nukilik Tulok. Today, we recognize his kindness, his selflessness, his courage, and his wisdom beyond years. We invite him to join us in adulthood, and to take on the responsibilities which that entails," he said, and the crowd cheered once in unison. "Tulugaak, we now ask of you that you learn your totem, and that you use its gifts to protect and serve your tribe, that you seek to use your totem to improve yourself, and to guide you in your decisions. Your totem is precious. It is a part of you."

Tulugaak took a deep breath. "I understand. I am ready to receive my totem."

The chief then turned to the fire and lifted his arms wide to the brightening sky.

"Spirits of the North, Spirits of the Mountains, Spirits of the Wild, hear us," he cried, and the spirits once again danced into the sky, brighter than ever. Amajuaq pulled a roll of cloth from within his elkskin coat, and opened it, revealing several small stones, each about a hand’s breadth long and two fingers thick, and upon each was carved a different animal, all of the different totems that had guided our tribe for centuries. “Tulugaak is ready to receive his totem. Reveal to us his path.”
Immediately, the fire flared higher, and changed to match the shifting colors of the aurora in the sky, and startling a bald eagle that had been circling above the camp. Embers rose from the inferno and drifted down like glowing snow. Tulugaak had seen before how one ember would fall on the right totem, without fail. He anxiously watched the embers land on the ground around the totems, waiting for one to touch a stone, but none of them did. Instead, they fell in a peculiar shape surrounding the totems. The cloth smoldered, then caught fire, the same color as the lights and the bonfire. Gasps emanated from the crowd, and even the chief backed away. Tulugaak watched as the totems glowed in the fire, unsure of what it could possibly mean.
Suddenly, the eagle swooped down from above and knocked the spear he was still holding from his grasp. It landed in the burning cloth, which the eagle picked up in its talons, and then took flight again. It hovered over the fire, every beat of its wings causing rippling shapes to appear. As the crowd stared into the fire, they could see the shapes of animals dance around the flickering tongues. Every beat of the eagle’s wings showed the face of a different animal. The eagle then too caught fire, yet still hovered in place. Tulugaak looked around at the frightened faces of the tribe, then back at Chief Amajuak, who continued to look at the eagle, but now with a look of understanding rather than fear. 
“What is happening?” Tulugaak whispered, but Amajuak held up his hand to silence him. They both turned their eyes back to the flaming eagle. About a minute passed before the eagle moved from within the fire, which returned to its natural color. The cloth wrapping seemed unharmed by the fire, as did the eagle, who released the wrapping and flew away to perch at the crown of a nearby tree.
Amajuak picked up the cloth, still wrapping the spear and totems. He turned back to Tulugaak, his eyes glittering.
"We have seen the will of the Spirits," he said quietly. "It is as it was written in the stars." He then raised his voice to the multitude. "The Spirits have spoken!  The first in a millenia, Tulugaak, our brother, must guide his actions by this totem. The Totem of Magic!"
As he spoke, he removed the wrapping to reveal the spear, and Tulugaak stepped back in wonder. The upper third of the handle was stone, and all of the other totems were engraved upon it. The lines of Tulugaak's carvings were gilded with smooth white rock, and at the top, just below the head of the spear, a new totem had appeared. An eagle with open wings, wreathed in gold. His totem. A Phoenix, for magic.