Frozen 3

Chapter 71

Silja

I felt a presence that woke me up. I opened the sides of my tent. The rays of the sun that had just risen settled on my skin. With my eyes fixed on the horizon, I could see nothing but a whitish veil to which I had become accustomed. I knew, however, that there were two silhouettes in the distance. I smiled and sat down on my rocking chair, which remained outside. They were back. Yelena moved forward with a sure step, leaning on my cane, while Elsa who was standing beside her seemed more feverish. Her step was irregular.

When they were close enough, I beckoned them to join me. I returned to the darkness of my tent, taking the rocking chair with me. I sat there again and swung back and forth.

"You took a long time," I heard them come in.

"We had a little unexpected," replied Chief Northuldra.

I smiled, knowing what she was talking about. My friend put my cane in my hands. I grabbed it and put it against my seat.

"Can you... Can you please wait outside, Yelena?" I asked, turning to her.

She withdrew without protest.

"Well," I said. "Tell me everything now."

I stretched out my hands. It took a few seconds before Elsa grabbed them and knelt before me.

"What do you want me to say to you?" she blew with a dull air.

"What did you see in Ahtohallan?"

"The island is still covered in ice. It seems intact despite the heat surrounding it.

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. What did you see in the glacier?"

She stopped. I pressed her hands. They were not cold as usual, on the contrary, they were sweaty. I felt the young woman shaking and her breath suddenly chopping. She was crying.

"I...I saw my mother...She never seemed so real..."

I said nothing. My face was twitching in spite of myself. I did not want to show it to him.

"She was the fifth spirit before me, wasn't she? She gave me that role when she died...

"No, from your birth," I corrected.

Elsa tried to remove her hands from mine. I stopped her, tightening my grip on her.

"This role, as you say, is passed down from generation to generation, from the birth of the first child.

"But... I don't understand... How could my mother be a bridge between the world of humans and the world of spirits? It had no powers like mine or spirits..."

"So she denied her origins until then."

"What do you mean?" asked the young woman, suddenly resuming her countenance.

I let go of her hands, grabbed my cane and crossed the tent to the shelf next to the entrance.

"See," I began, "your mother was a shaman. Like me."

I tatared the containers with my fingertips and grabbed the jar I was looking for when my hand landed on it.

"She had many gifts similar to mine, like the ability to have visions."

My fingers kept going through the little shelf.

"That's why the spirits chose her. Like they chose her mother before her and so on.

"The gift of shamanism is also transmitted from generation to generation? "

"Yes. But only in the first born. Where is it? I was sure I had it here."