"Oh? The aged tribal priest?"
Xiulote looked toward the camp with interest, seeing only a worn Red Crow flag and a low chieftain’s longhouse, with traces of migration everywhere else. He looked for a while, then turned to the Red Frog chieftain at his side.
"Keka, do you know this wilderness priest?"
Keka widened his eyes, glanced at the camp’s flag, and nodded.
"It’s Kakalo from the Red Crow Tribe. He is both the wilderness priest of the heritage and the chieftain of the Red Crow Tribe. The crow is a wise divine bird, so he is also a man of wisdom and mana. Great Chief, when you were traveling north, the Red Crow Tribe was the first to sense danger and the first tribe to flee!"
"The Red Crow Tribe, the first to flee the valley? Kakalo, the crow?"
Xiulote mulled over this Nava word. Indeed, in the culture of Central Arica, the crow is a divine bird that can foretell death and the future.
"Since he is both chieftain and priest of the Red Crow Tribe, why didn’t he leave with his tribe?"
"Great Chief, the wilderness tribes are aalways migrating, and those who cannot keep up will leave forever. It is the custom of the wilderness to abandon the aged and weak with limited ti left, regardless of whether they are venerated priests or chieftains."
Keka shook his head, speaking frankly.
"Actually, as a wilderness priest, Kakalo has already lived longer than most people."
"Hmm."
Xiulote nodded. He had always been intrigued by the wilderness priests. The King pondered for a mont, then decided with a smile.
"Since he is a wilderness priest and a rare elder, let go and et him! Bertade, Keka, accompany ."
The Head Warrior nodded. He made a cautious gesture, and several trusted aides, fully ard, entered the chieftain’s longhouse to inspect. After a mont, the aides ca out again, signalling that all was well, and then stationed themselves around the longhouse.
Only then did Xiulote move his feet. He bowed slightly and entered the low longhouse. Sunlight filtered through the cracks, illuminating the earthen floor. The floor was scattered with bones of various animals, sculptures of wood, and carvings on stone. The scent of herbs perated the room, and a light sniff cald the mind.
In a corner of the longhouse sat a white-haired priest. He wore the vestnts of a priest, with a gray and aged face and listlessly slumped on the ground, holding a wooden plank in his hand. On closer inspection, the old priest’s clothes were stained with blood, and his eyes were slightly closed, as if he had fallen asleep.
The King shifted his gaze, looked past the sculptures of the moon and the wolf, and picked up a stone carving. On the small stone surface, dense figures were engraved, with a stone vessel at the center, containing square streams of water and flas. On either side of the vessel were lush flowers and fruits; above and below were sprawling grass and root systems. Further out were tree-like human figures.
"Cough, cough... Respected God of Death Chieftain. This is the heritage carving of the wilderness priest..."
Kakalo spoke with difficulty. The aides had already inford him of the visitor’s identity.
"Oh, a heritage carving? Respected wilderness priest, could you explain this to ?"
Xiulote smiled warmly, approached the old priest, and sat down cross-legged. Bertade, holding a Bronze Sword, stood guard beside the King. Keka looked on with a complex expression, watching the dying Kakalo.
Kakalo opened his murky eyes, scrutinizing the God of Death Chieftain before him, and was surprised by the other’s youth.
"Cough, cough... God of Death Chieftain, you are so young!... I have heard your na for a long ti, to et you before my death must be an arrangent of fate..."
Kakalo sighed lightly, and then started coughing again. Xiulote took out a piece of cotton cloth from his chest and handed it to the old priest. The latter took it with difficulty, covering his mouth, and quickly stained the cloth red.
"Cough, cough! Don’t worry, the Earth Mother is calling , she’s always a bit impatient."
The old priest said with a strained smile, looking at the carving in the King’s hand.
"God of Death Chieftain, I am willing to tell you about the spirit of the wilderness and also beseech you to treat the citizens of the wilderness kindly. The tribes that migrated south have committed many killings, not for the sake of killing, but to survive. To survive is the eternal pursuit of all the Tribes, and the rcy and cruelty of the Earth Mother."
Xiulote slightly bowed his head, giving no response, just listening patiently.
"Cough, cough... We co from the wilderness, we believe that all things have spirits, we love the sky, the earth, the sun, the moon, we believe in the balance and cycle of the world. The wilderness priest is one who venerates the way of nature, believing in the unity and coexistence of all things."
"God of Death Chieftain, please look at this carving. One side of the wilderness is a world of unity and derivation, the coexistence of nature! The stone vessel symbolizes the Earth’s embrace, the restraint of nature. Even water and fire can coexist in the narrow vessel. And the streams bring life, the flas bring light and heat, the Earth nurtures life... Water, fire, and earth blend together, and then lush grass grows, deep roots are set, dazzling flowers bloom, and fruitful harvests are borne. Grass, roots, flowers, fruit, these are all symbols of life’s abundance."
At this point, Kakalo paused, struggling to suppress the nauseating taste rising in his throat. Then, he continued to speak.
"When life flourishes to its utmost, there arise trees and humans, surrounded by animals and wind. Humans are the beloved of the Earth Mother and should live like trees, facing the high winds and sunlight. Water, fire, earth, roots, flowers, fruits, trees, animals, wind, and people. All are born from the sa source, coexisting with each other! They all have strengths and weaknesses, so they depend on each other..."
At these words, Xiulote’s eyes flickered. Water, fire, earth, wind, flowers, plants, trees, animals, and people—it did sound like the familiar concept of "from one cos two, from two cos three, from three cos all things."
Kakalo looked into Xiulote’s eyes, pondered for a while, and then pointed to another plank painting on the pile of bones.
"God of Death Chieftain, please look at this painting," he said.
Xiulote raised his eyes to look, and was startled.
At the center of the painting, there was a huge, hollow, spherical nest. The hollow sphere had an opening, and inside it was the combined shape of petals and ovary. On the inner wall of the ovary were the heads and bodies of people, forming into newborn Canine Descendants who stepped out from the opening of the sphere. The older Canine Descendants would return to the sphere, rging into the inner wall, reverting to scattered bodies once again.
In the center of the sphere, the newborn and the dying were in conversation, greeting and taking leave of each other. At the entrance of the sphere, priests from the Wilderness were conducting ceremonies, welcoming the newborn and extolling death. Around the periphery of the sphere were busy Canine Descendants, spending their youthful days.
"God of Death Chieftain, one aspect of the Wilderness is the cycle of birth and death, the balance of nature! The Earth Mother is a hollow cactus sphere, nurturing new life and welcoming old death. Life is in constant cycle, erging from the Mother’s womb young and healthy. He travels through the Wilderness, planting, hunting, multiplying, singing. He returns to his birth nest, old and frail. He returns his life to the Earth, his body disintegrating, dying peacefully... The spirit of the Wilderness teaches us to smile at birth, to smile at death. Birth and death are both parts of nature, both an end and a beginning, with no need for gods to control!... Cough, cough!"
Upon hearing this, Xiulote beca solemn. Such natural thought, full of the philosophy of life, was the enemy of the Divine Church. The King looked at the old priest and said calmly,
"Respected Wilderness Priest, your words are well-spoken! I like the Wilderness tradition and feel the spirit of nature. But, throughout the whole world, including this boundless Wilderness, birth and death must be under the supre authority of the gods, a blessing given by the gods to people! My na is Xiulote, and I am the avatar of the god of birth and death!"
"Cough, cough!..."
Kakalo began to cough, his expression pained. He stretched out his hand with difficulty and said to Xiulote,
"God of Death Chieftain, the Wilderness priests have no intention of challenging your authority... The tradition of the Wilderness can be changed, as long as it can continue... I beg you, be rciful... Cough, cough!"
The old priest coughed violently, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth, unstoppable. Shaking all over, his grip loosened, and the wooden plank he was holding rolled away.
Xiulote glanced at the plank, his heart pounding, his pupils contracting rapidly. He saw that the plank was engraved with the black wolf head emblematic of the God of Death and three neat, square characters: "Xiulote."
Bertade, following His Highness’s gaze, also suddenly changed color. Drawing his Bronze Sword, he stepped forward swiftly, pressing it against Kakalo’s chest.
"Speak! Who taught you these three characters!" he demanded.
"Cough, cough... Three characters?"
"The wolf head and the inscription carved on the wooden plank! That is His Highness’s emblem and true na, not to be known by outsiders!"
Bertade’s face showed a murderous intent as he placed the Bronze Sword against Kakalo’s neck.
"Speak quickly!"
"Cough, cough, the true na of the God of Death Chieftain?!"
Kakalo was shocked. Recalling the origin of the wolf head and characters, he couldn’t help but laugh with tiless mirth, even forgetting his cough,
"So it is! It all makes sense! Ha-ha!..."
"Are you using witchcraft to spy on His Highness?!"
Anger tightening his grip on the sword, Bertade was ready to slay Kakalo on the spot.
"Bertade, let him finish," said Xiulote, waves churning inside him, though his face was as calm as a still lake. The Head Warrior then loosened his grip, stepping back slightly.
Kakalo’s wrinkles shook as he revealed a strange smile. Stretching out his hand, he pointed at Xiulote but faced toward the East,
"Ha-ha! Life is a spinning circle, with many fates converging in the cycle!... The shadow of death cos from the south, harboring the hope of life, unknown to the common man... Hardship and challenge lie to the East, that is the arduous journey, also the node of fate!... Alan, the soul you’ve been searching for all along is in the place you strive most to avoid, dood never to et! Cough, cough... Cough, cough... Ah!"
After uttering this mysterious prophecy, the old priest began to cough violently again. Then, he suddenly collapsed to the ground, a great clot of blood spilling from his mouth, his body shuddered twice, and beneath the astonished eyes of all, he lay motionless.
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