Trial (1600)
Heart pounding, knees shaking, Ini gazed wide-eyed at the cave mouth, but saw no sign of spirits. He was afraid, but if this was to be his Trial of Manhood, that was how it must be.
The dying sun sent a feeble light a short way into the cave. It had taken him the better part of the afternoon to make his way back here while evading Father and the other men of the village. Father would be angry, of course. But surely when Ini returned tomorrow in triumph, Father would agree that entering the cave was a suitable Trial. Surely the Elders would see that too.
Or perhaps not. Ini frowned. There were one or two of the Elders who were very particular about respecting the spirits--they might be displeased that he had entered this place without permission. When he had been expressly forbidden. But it was too late to change his mind now.
He hoped the men weren't still looking for him. Perhaps by this time they had decided that he'd gone back to the village. They couldn't have guessed that he would come here, where the spirits of the ancients lived.
Ini shivered. He had asked Father about this cave this morning, as the village men made their way here through trackless forest to give offerings for the spirits. He only wanted to know why the offering was made every ten years, when most other offerings were much more frequent, but Father forbade him even to talk about it. When Ini pressed his luck and asked again, Father would only say, "The spirits there remember the past too strongly." And he refused to explain further.
Ini shook himself--he was dithering. This was the time for bravely moving forward. He signed a ward against malevolent spirits and the Evil Eye, then stiffened his knees, raised his makeshift torch high, and stepped forward into the cave.
The stone floor was cool on his bare feet. He paused where the light died to give his eyes time to adjust.
The floor seemed to slope downward, and as the darkness cleared slightly to his eyes, he could see that the ceiling was low, and peppered with jagged stones stabbing down like fangs. He took a step forward and downward, ducking. There was an opening at the other end of the small cavern, though he'd have to clamber between a few stone teeth pointing upwards.
Ini drew a deep breath. From here on, he must be careful. Careful not to provoke the spirits, of course, but also careful not to get lost, or hurt. Either might end in his death.
Surely none could deny that this was a true Trial of Manhood.
Onward.
*
Ini pulled himself through a narrow opening, held his torch high, and paused. This new room was different.
The previous caverns had all been the same--fangs on the ceiling and ground, sloping or curved surfaces. But while the stone was the same, the walls, ceiling, and floor of this room were all perfectly flat and straight. Or--not quite. On the wall closest to him was an odd protrusion, shaped something like a tree branch--circular, thick, and straight. But it was completely regular--it got neither thicker nor narrower as it followed the wall, and it remained at exactly the same height. It was neither wood nor stone, but some brownish gray substance that rang hollowly when he tapped it.
Perhaps the ancients had used this not-branch as a guide for their hands to follow, when they did not have torches? But no, the cavern was straight as an arrow. Ini shrugged, and began to walk down the corridor, his hand trailing on the not-branch.
He followed the not-branch down the straight wall for what felt like a long time, one step after another after another. He was just beginning to grow tired when he reached a dead end.
His shoulders sagged, but something about the wall in front of him caught his eye. It was flat and straight like the side walls, but it was not made of stone--it was the same brownish gray color as the not-branch. And portions of the wall were raised, forming an odd kind of pattern.
Was it hollow like the not-branch? Ini put down his torch and reached out to tap on the wall, then leapt back in surprise.
With a hiss like a great snake, the brownish gray surface slid sideways into the wall.
He gaped. Truly, the magic of the ancients was remarkable. He hesitated only a moment before stepping through the new opening.
Ini shook himself--in his haste, he had left his torch behind. As he turned to retrieve it, there was another hiss, and the wall closed behind him again.
He pushed, he pounded, he yelled for the spirits to help him. The wall would not budge. It seemed the magic of the ancients only allowed passage in one direction.
He was trapped in the dark.
*
Ini awoke still tired, and cold. His back was sore and his knuckles raw. He had spent ages pounding on the wall that barred his way back, before finally giving up and collapsing into sleep.
The dim light from his torch flickered feebly. He blinked. The wall was gone; the passage back clear once more.
Ini didn't hesitate, but was up and out of the room in an eyeblink. He stumbled his way down the long, straight tunnel, and out through the many caverns he had traversed on the way in. He forced his tired muscles to move quickly; he didn't want to spend a moment more in this cave than he had to.
A great deal of climbing, stumbling, and cursing later, Ini emerged into the morning sunlight, and collapsed in a heap of sweat and quivering muscle on the hillside.
He breathed deeply of the morning air, and let the sun's rays soak into him. Soon enough, he would have to make his way back to the village. Father would be worried. But he would be proud when he learned what Ini had done. Or would he? Ini frowned. What had seemed so grand and clever late yesterday, now, in the morning light, seemed childish and foolish. He was fortunate to be alive.
Still. No Trial that any of the Elders might devise could be as bad as the cave. Having faced that, whatever might come would be easy.
Smiling again, Ini stood.
And nearly fell over. On the hillside not a hundred feet below him stood Father and the men of the village, arraying offerings to the spirits. Father was far grayer and more careworn than he had been yesterday. He must have been very worried; Ini felt a twinge of guilt.
Many of the other men and all of the boys were strangers to him. Could the Elders have called for searchers from other villages? Surely not, when he had been missing only a day. In any case, the men did not seem to be searching. They were setting out their offerings just as they had done yesterday, carefully laying each item in its place and mumbling words of reverence for the spirits.
Ini had just begun to make his way down the steep trail when one of the men looked up and spotted him. He shouted something, and they all looked up.
Most of the men turned and ran, dropping their remaining offerings behind them.
But Father--Father went wide-eyed, turned pale, and made a warding sign against vengeful spirits.
Ini stared at him, and he stared back. They stood there for a moment, neither moving. Then Father made the sign again, backed away, and ran after the rest of the men.
Ini sat down on the hillside at the mouth of the cave, shivering.
How long he sat like that he did not know. But some time later, he heard the crunching noise of footsteps behind him, and leapt to his feet. Was it a spirit?
But no. A man emerged from the cave, a bearded man wearing oddly ornamented white robes, with blue leggings beneath. He stopped on seeing Ini, and said something Ini did not understand. Then he put down his torch, and pulled a small black box from within his robes.
He spoke gibberish at the box, and a voice came from within it. "You entered the cave yesterday?"
Ini stood frozen. There must be a small demon in that box. But if that was the case, then this man was a sorceror. Ini forced his gaze to the floor. "I am sorry."
The box spoke to the man, then he spoke again. "You should not have done this," said the demon in the box. "You are displaced."
"I'm what?"
"Displaced. You entered my bunker's distortion field, which displaced you from your own time. I fear your village is not likely to take you back."
Ini did not understand some of the words the sorceror used, but his meaning was clear. "What did you do to me, sorceror?" His hands curled into fists.
"I? You entered a place you knew to be tabu." The sorceror shook his head. "There is no going back."
"No." That could not be. The sorceror was wrong. Ini would go back. He must!
Ini shoved past the sorceror and dashed into the cave, snatching his torch from the ground.
"Wait!" the demon called. "You must not go in! The distortion field is too strong now, anything sentient would--" The voice faded as Ini hurtled down through the caverns.
He slid, leapt, ran, fell several times and kept running.
And then he was back in the corridor, he was back at the magical wall, he had opened it and passed through into--
Endless light.
He bent, twisting in an insubstantial wind.
He reshaped and was the universe.
He shattered.
He was all, and nothing.
