That night, Doc raised three new shamans for the tribes and an earth elemental. With the help of the elemental, the tribes in the delta would be able to grow protected crops to sustain their food supply. It would also keep the river flowing free, so there would be a safe harbor for smaller ocean-going ships.
Rosa and Sequoia stabilized the tribe out on the island. They did a portion of what the elemental did, suggesting that the elder send an apprentice candidate to Alakanuk so they could also return to balance with Mother. Sequoia was amazed at everything Rosa did on her own, humbled by what her younger sister had managed.
The trip upriver from there was a slow crawl with nightly stops to meet the tribes. Sequoia was happy to go ahead of them, preparing each tribe for Doc’s arrival. After a week, Doc had Sequoia join him and his wives for the night— they felt that she deserved a reward for all she was doing to assist him. That was a unique experience, as Sequoia was the tallest woman he’d ever been with. She was a stately amazon who was far shyer and timid than Rosa.
The month passed by, and winter truly began as they continued their slow journey. With a top speed of five miles an hour, it took them over a month to make the trip to where Dawson City would’ve been on Earth. The tribes of Alyeska and Kanata were energized as shamans were again raised up by Mother and, in some cases, elementals were gifted to help them. The message of unity among the tribes spread, as well, with pacts between them being made in the presence of the Voice.
~*~*~
It was on a cold day with a light snowfall that Lucky River tied up for the last time on their trip. Five tribes had come together to meet with Doc. Hope burned brightly in all of them that Mother was again illuminating the world with her joy.
Standing with the elders was Citrine and her dryad, Fira. Citrine stood tall, proud that she had accomplished what Doc wanted before he arrived. She wore the traditional leathers of her people, but also a sacred bison cloak given to her by her father before the trip.
“Thank you for being here to meet me, Elders,” Doc said in Elvish as he touched land. “It has been a long journey to reach this beautiful place. We have much to discuss in regard to Mother, Luck, and their plans that require your aid.”
“Holyday, may your family be blessed by Mother,” the foremost of the elders spoke. “I am Issac Salmon, elder of the Dancing Salmon tribe. Come with me, and we will pass the pipe as we speak.”
Doc didn’t know how to take the awe-filled looks or hushed conversations; he only ever saw himself as a guy doing the best he could. The looks made him a little uncomfortable, but he had to shoulder that faith.
Led into one of the pit-houses, Doc took the seat he was guided to. One of the elders looked uncomfortable with Doc’s wives having joined him, but didn’t speak about it when they sat behind him, not beside him. Sitting in the circle was akin to being viewed as equal, so when they didn’t, he relaxed.
“I will provide the pipe if you have the leaf,” Doc said. Lia handed him the pipe he’d received from the Curled Horn tribe. “I have used it infrequently since it was presented to me. The symmetry of a tribe from the far south desert having their pipe used in a gathering of the northern tribes is pleasing.”
Issac passed Doc a tin of crumbled leaves. “I accept this, Voice.”
Doc smiled when Sequoia came into the room. She beamed back at him and went to sit on Doc’s left, as Rosa was already on his right. “Mother smiles upon this gathering,” Doc said, preparing the pipe the way Lia had shown him during the trip. “Before the night ends, all of the tribes here will have a shaman again.”
Bright, hopeful smiles came from the elves around them.
“My wives are not fluent in your native tongue yet, but have been learning from our wife, Lia,” Doc said, glancing back to smile at the trio behind him. “So please, try to be mindful of them. They have been instrumental in me being able to do all I have and the plans that brought me here. They are the most important people in my life.”
“We would not insult your wives, nor you,” Issac replied.
“Before we begin, let the peace of Mother envelop us,” Doc said. He picked up a long, thin stick from the fire in the middle of the group to light the pipe. Taking a deep inhale, he slowly let the smoke drift out of his nostrils before passing it to the left. Sequoia let it go to the next elder, as dryads did not smoke.
Everyone was quiet and contemplative as the pipe went around the circle. Doc made a mental note to double-check for illnesses when the pipe came back around to him. Holding the pipe in his lap, he spoke again, “This part of Pale River is going to see a lot of work. Citrine has spoken to you about this.”
“I did, Voice,” Citrine said. “I have been here for months. I told them of your plans, as Lia explained them to me. Fira and I have scouted the locations we were told about; they are heavy with the minerals you seek. We also found a rich deposit of soul stones.”
“Then this will be an even bigger endeavor than I originally thought. Citrine, you have my eternal thanks. I will be here all winter. Will you stay, or will you return to your tribe?”
“I will stay until you leave, Voice,” Citrine said, her eyes going past him briefly. “I have things I need to discuss with your wives.”
Doc smiled, though hesitantly, because he was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking. “Very well.” Taking another puff, he passed the pipe again.
When it came to Issac, he puffed, then rested the pipe in his lap. “Holyday, can you give us an idea of the scope of what you expect? How many of the clans will be coming? Are they trusted allies of yours?”
“The clans that come to assist here will be allies of mine. All of Tsarrus and Qin are spreading word of Luck at a rate I didn’t expect. Mostly, it will be Tsarrus clans that come to work here. They should be on their way already. Since their homeland is much like yours, they will be suited to surviving the winter.”
Issac passed the pipe and Doc let it rest in his hand for a moment. What he was about to say was something they should all know.
“The Church of Apoc has sent inquisitors after me,” Doc told them. “In Pacifica, before sailing, five of them came to kill me aboard the Anastacia. Rosa sank the boat they were on before they could reach us, but they will come for me again. This means they might come here before I leave. You should all be aware that they are hunting for me. They believe that, if I fall, Mother will again be pushed into Darkness.”
Five voices rose in anger, their words tumbling over each other. Doc held the pipe up, took a puff, then exhaled into the moment. The elders grew silent— it would dishonor the tribes to be angry when the pipe was being used.
When Doc passed it to the elder beside him, the man didn’t smoke it, just holding it. “Voice, I am Elder Skyfall of the Skylight tribe. My tribe will not allow the church to harm you. I am sure all of us here feel the same.” The others interjected their agreement before he went on, “I will admit my shame. When your wives joined us, I thought they would break tradition and sit in the circle. I should have known they would not.” He looked past Doc and bowed his head. “I will be asking my wife to sit like they are for all future gatherings. The tribes should have the spouses of their elders and shamans with them when meeting. I see the wisdom in this. It reminds us of the greater whole that we carry by being elder or shaman.” Taking a puff, he passed the pipe.
“I am Elder Whitehorse, Voice,” the lone female elder said as she took the pipe, a patch covering her right eye. “I speak for the Rapids tribe— Elder Skyfall speaks wisdom. All of us here would rather see our tribes turned to dust than let you come to harm. Mother must be allowed to glow as bright as ever again. The church does not frighten us. The one time they came to our lands was only to hunt our shamans; we killed their assassins, but not fast enough. This time, we will not fail Mother by letting them silence our guides to her.” She took a puff before passing the pipe to Citrine.
Citrine looked angry. “Voice, I wanted to stay with you, but now, I cannot. If the church does hunt you, I will return home. The Raven tribes will take wing to fly to your aid.” She took a deep inhale, holding the smoke for a few seconds before she exhaled.
The next two elders said much the same until the pipe came back around to Doc. “I would never ask you to sacrifice your tribes for me. My wives know how that would burden my soul.”
“As your death would burden all the world,” Rosa said, talking for the first time.
“The tribes and my sister speak wisdom,” Sequoia added. “Mother would be most wroth if you were to fall.”
Doc fell silent, his head bowed as he felt the weight of everything building on his shoulders. It was heavy, the fact that others would die for him. It was a hard path, but it was the one he was on. He’d told Luck he’d keep moving forward, so even though it pressed down on him, he would bear the burden and keep placing another foot forward.
“This is the burden I carry as a Voice. I hadn’t thought it would weigh this much, but now, I begin to see the true cost of being Luck’s Voice. Just because it isn’t the path you want or the burden is heavier than you anticipated doesn’t mean you should lay down.” Shaking his head, he looked up. “They might come or they might not. What will be, will be. I will place myself in the hands of those who want to shelter me, but I will not be passive about assisting those who help me. Bring your shaman-hopefuls; let us see Mother’s blessing. After them, I will be asking her to grant four elementals for your tribes to share, one of each element to make life better for all of you.”
Hope filled the room— those who’d known life before the church had come to the shores of Emerita could see a way back to Mother once more.