The Wanderer
The sky was almost clear of clouds, but it was snowing, just light fluffy flakes that looked like cotton fibers blowing in the wind. Tanda's mother was washing her chilblained hands at the well when Tanda rushed up to her, carrying a pot with a lid.
"Mom, can I bring this to the Lord of Winter?"
Tanda's mother lifted the lid off the pot. It was full of bones from birds and fish that had already been boiled for broth, though there was a little meat on them still.
Tanda's mother smiled. "You don't need to ask to take garbage out, Tanda. You can take them to the Lord of Winter if you want."
Tanda started running, using care so that he wouldn't spill the contents of the pot. He'd only run a little ways when his mother called out, "You can make an offering to the Lord of Winter, but you can't go up the mountain! It's going to snow even more today!"
"Okay, mom!" Tanda said that, but internally, he was already making his apologies. He was going up the mountain, but he didn't want to worry her.
The Lord of Winter wasn't a person, of course. Taking scraps to the Lord of Winter meant that Tanda was going to share the contents of the pot with the animals in the forest and on the mountain. It was the end of winter, so it was very difficult for animals to find food. Tanda always liked to share, when he could.
"It's a winter feast for you all!" Tanda said, lifting the lid off the pot and setting it down. "Help yourselves!"
Some animals crept forward, though most were wary. Most of the time, offerings to the Lord of Winter were given by adults from the village, and adults were known to be hunters in the summer and fall. Seeing a child offering them a pot full of food was a rare sight for the creatures of the forest.
Tanda loved feeding the animals. He set the pot down, and was already looking forward to coming back and seeing a completely clean pot tomorrow morning. The last time that had happened, he'd picked the pot up with a smile and said, "Looks like you liked it! I'll bring more later!"
That time, he'd seen a winter fox and her cubs gathered near the pot, huddling for warmth. The fox still had a bone in her mouth. Tanda was glad that she'd been able to feed her cubs with what he'd left.
No one went far from the village to offer food to the Lord of Winter. Going up the mountain in winter was dangerous, even for adults. But Tanda was determined to try. He'd set aside extra food from dinner and breakfast, hoping it would be enough to tide him over until he reached grandma Torogai's hut.
Tanda's hands were red from the cold. His breath steamed in front of his face. The mountain path was slippery, with a lot of hills and sudden turns.
Tanda hadn't visited Torogai for a while, but the last time he had, he remembered having a wonderful dream. Torogai seemed to think that the dream was a very good thing, which was a relief. His parents and siblings never understood his dreams.
After coming home from Torogai's, Tanda spent his winter days climbing up the mountain path to the temple that protected the village, bringing enough firewood, winter potatoes and dried fruit to keep him fed for the day. He preferred being there than staying at home all day. Overall, Tanda preferred being alone to being with people. He often went out into the woods to gather firewood for his family. He wasn't scared of the woods, and he never got bored, either.
At sunset, the mountain paths were usually white with new snow. Tanda never saw any footprints aside from his own.
I guess they haven't come back yet. He was a little disappointed in the evenings. I should go home.
He couldn't keep waiting forever. He was getting restless. That was why he'd set aside food for himself and asked his mother to let him make offerings to the Lord of Winter.
Tanda passed by the village's temple. The firepit outside it was lined with stones and blackened in the center from frequent use. It was still snowing, but the firepit wasn't covered in it yet, and the snow seemed not to touch the temple at all.
The old men and women who tended the temple kept it well-stocked with firewood over the winter. Sometimes, other villagers came there to burn garbage or sit and talk by the fire.
Tanda almost never used any of the temple's firewood. He preferred to bring his own.
Tanda crouched down in front of the firepit and used a flint stone to spark the kindling to life. His hands were freezing cold. He'd never make it all the way up the mountain if he didn't warm up first. He buried his potatoes in the ashes near the edge and waited for them to cook. He roasted some stale bread over the fire to make it softer. He'd packed a bit of sweet sauce to dip it in. The smells from the fire made his mouth water; he couldn't wait to eat.
It was past noon. The light, fluffy snowfall turned heavy all at once, putting out the fire and causing it to belch smoke into the darkening sky. Tanda looked longingly up the mountain and saw something moving in the distance.
The snow was falling thicker now, making it harder to see. Still, Tanda was sure that he was looking at people. There were two of them, moving briskly down the mountain path.
His heart pounded. They were coming this way. All he had to do was wait. The snow was so thick now that their figures drifted in and out of sight like figures in a dream. Tanda saw their karru—Rotan-style winter coats—flapping in the cold wind.
Tanda took shelter under the eaves of the temple's roof. The people were still too far off for him to recognize them for certain, but he was sure of who they were.
A dull gray light burst through the clouds. The snowfall softened again, making it possible to see. The people were close. He dashed away from the temple wall, steps light like he was skipping, and went to greet them.
This is the end of The Wanderer.
There are two other side-stories in the Guardian of the Spirit series:
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