Migration

A Myth. from a prompt by Mina Howell and Maryellen Brady

Photo by Brad Mann on Unsplash

Just a quick note. Months ago

Mina Howell

and

Maryellen Brady 💗📚

put out a photo prompt. The idea was to write a myth. The photo by

Maryellen Brady 💗📚

was a large pink flower with dancing skeletons. (Don’t ask how this story came from that photo! yikes ) I personally was going through life craziness and ultimately took a break from Substack. But now that I’ve stuck my head out of my cave. I decided to post this stab at creating a myth. It was fun, and a little bit different for me. Thank you to Mina and Maryellen.

Trigger Warning: sports hunting, hunting, animal rights and welfare

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MIGRATION

While existence ran its course; the stone slept. Blanketed by the land, it slumbered deep within the earth. While it dreamed, its consciousness expanded. It knew when the days grew warm and the sun heated the wind. When the golden grasses grew tall, and when the forest creatures and their children came foraging. From Solstice to Solstice, it waited for time to begin moving again.

And then one day….

The Summer Solstice arrived and with it a sea of storms. The sonorous sky cracked open and thunder shook the land. In a violent act of presence; lightning fired deep into the earth, striking in every direction. It leaped across the terrain, ripping the ground apart, desperately searching for the stone.

Terrified, hares and field mice burrowed underground; awakening the sleeping sentinel. The stone reassured them that the storm would soon pass. Still, they shivered with fright while the wind howled and lightning fractured the land above.

“Why is the sky tearing open the land?” Wabooz, the youngest of the hares, asked the stone.

“The storm is my family; they are looking for me,” she replied.

“You are a storm?”

“I am lightning and I am thunder.”

“But you are stone,” Wabooz said, clearly confused.

“The Earth needed help, so I mixed in with the soil and was warmed by the sun.”

“Are you the Earth Mother,” asked the little hare.

“No,” the stone chuckled, “I am a daughter of the sky. My name is Sya.”

Night after night, storms slashed at the land until they finally set the stone free. The rain pounded on her surface and they all heard her take a breath. Stones don’t breathe, Wabooz thought to himself.

“I breathe,” said Sya.

The downpour broke into a squall. Lashing at the earth, the water washed the land away; creating a hill. At the top, Sya towered over the expanse. The rabbits stayed near her. So did the field mice and deer. Soon, word spread that the sky had freed the monolith buried deep in the earth, and the great elk herds came to see.

◉

When the moon was half full the herds started to arrive. Ghost, Chief of all the Cervidae, stood on the horizon, as the morning sun lifted into the sky. As far as he could see the land rippled with elk emerging from every direction. Thousands of them crossed the plain and climbed the hill to Sya. Ghost made his way to the top. His immense size cast a shadow across the expanse as he bowed his head to welcome her.

“Sister of earth and sky, your relatives have freed you,” he said.

“Yes,” Sya said. “Time is moving again.”

The story of when time would begin moving again and the Great Migration would return, was so ancient it had become myth. Many said it was tied to prophecy. It told of the days of old, when the Solstices marked the beginning of the migration. The Northern and Southern herds would cross the continent to learn from the Wizards of Time. In those days the herds were massive and they stretched for miles. Like the turning of the seasons, the movement of the enormous herds kept life in balance with the Earth. And in harmony with the universe.

Then one day the humans arrived from the East. A virus had consumed their minds. Their tribes had grown sick. They lost their connection to the sun and fell out of balance with the orbit of the solar system. This caused the threads of time to tear apart.

When the humans found the great herds, they hunted them. Slaughtering almost all just for their own use. The world had turned dangerous and cold and the Great Migration came to a halt. On that day, time morphed and stood still. The Wizards disappeared from the Earth and were never seen again. The world was left out of balance and submerged in the chaos the humans created.

Before the Wizards retreated, they found those who had survived the slaughter, and told them that one day time would move again. The Great Migration would return. The world would come back into balance with the sun, and the Earth would move in harmony with the universe once more.

With tears in his eyes, Ghost said, “Sya, the world has changed. Here in the north among the evergreens life is calm. But chaos rules in the lands we no longer inhabit. The soil is sick, the water holds on for its life, and most of the tree families have been killed.”

Sya stayed silent. She had heard the screaming of the trees as they were ripped from the earth. Their roots untangled from each other, entire families separated and left to die alone. She had listened to the gasping of the fish in waters that no longer held oxygen. Parents suffocating alongside their children. Earth’s death rattle was loud and had grown more overwhelming as the years passed.

“What happened, how did the humans become so sick,” she asked.

“The tribes became disillusioned. Lies made up by both their enemies and their leaders confused the people’s minds. They lost their memories and went insane,” Ghost replied.

“And the Wizards of Time?”

“Their societies collapsed. The Wizards went into hiding, somewhere amidst our lands,” he said.

“They must return,” Sya whispered,”The migration begins in three full moon cycles.”

The days of the moon cycles were hot and long. Word spread that Ghost would lead the migration. From the farthest points in the territory, Cervidae families and other woodland creatures arrived at the hill. They rested in the cool shade of the nearby forest, arranging themselves by clan and talking about living in the time of prophecy.

None of them had ever traveled the ancient route. Long ago, fear had forced the elder council to forbid anyone to use it. Yet, once in every generation, someone would try to follow it. Some wanted to feel the pathways of their ancestors. Others wanted to reconnect with Cervidae heritage. No one ever made it; they almost always died. Those who did come back told stories of hunters and long hard pathways with enormous, fast-moving bugs that killed.

Ghost wanted to see the route they would take before leading the entire herd into the unknown. He traveled alone to the edge of the territory. As he meandered across the land, the tall grasses rustled in the wind and black birds winged through the air. At night, the scent of jasmine lingered in the dark, crickets sang, and the sky exploded with stars. When he got to the boundary of the migration route, he saw a fury of lightning strikes far off in the distance. Thunder rippled across the plain like a heartbeat and he heard Sya’s voice in the wind,

“It’s not time for you to be here, go back,” she said.

“What’s happening over there?” he asked.

“Go back,” her voice echoed across the land.

And so he returned to the herds.

◉

The evening before the full moon, Ghost climbed the hill to Sya.

“We will be leaving tomorrow,” he said.

“You will move south and the Southern herd will be moving north.Time will once again be in balance with the sun,” she said.

Ghost huffed, living in the time of prophecy was something he still needed to get used to.

“Sya, you have been my great friend and teacher. All this time, you have protected the herds and counseled me. We will need you in the south and we need you on the migration. Will you come with us?” Ghost asked.

“I am stone, dear friend. I cannot go with you,” Sya whispered.

“You are a daughter of the sky. You are lightning and you are thunder. Your relatives have freed you from the soil. Surely they can free you from stone,” Ghost said, almost pleading.

“I must be where the Earth Mother asks me to be. In these times, none of us know where we will be needed,” she answered.

Ghost’s heart was heavy; he didn’t want to leave her, even though he understood. As he made his way down the hill, he noticed the moonrise casting Sya’s shadow across the land. It flickered in the silvery light. The same way lightning flickers as it streaks across the sky.

“I can see you, Sya,” he whispered to himself.

◉

The day of the migration arrived. Excitement surged throughout the Cervidae as they gathered at the bottom of Sya’s hill. The elk warriors took their place in front. The warriors from the moose clan flanked the herd and held the rear. The Caribou and the deer protectively surrounded the smaller forest creatures in the middle. The Chiefs of the Cervidae Clans all held posts at the front, sides, and rear of the herd. No predators would break through the line.

When the scouts gave the all-clear, Ghost instructed them to lead the herd out, while he stood off to the side looking up at Sya.

“Don’t worry,” a tiny voice said from deep in the grass. It was Wabooz, the young hare.

“I’m not worried, but I will miss her,” Ghost said, half lying.

“She won’t leave us,” Wabooz assured him.

Ghost smiled; he knew the little hare was right.

“Come young sir, jump on my back and we will travel to the southern lands together,” he said.

Wabooz climbed up and sat on Ghost’s head, holding onto his massive antlers as they galloped to the front of the herd.

For three days, the Northern herd thundered across the plain. When they reached the border that crossed into human lands they saw billowing pyres of smoke in the distance. The land looked strange. As if it had separated from the Earth, and there were peculiar shadows in the sky. Ghost sent the scouts to see what lay ahead. When they returned, they reported that a human city had been struck by a lightning storm. It was in flames, and the earth had split open, swallowing the human dwellings.

“Does the land look the way it did when the storm was searching for Sya?” asked Wabooz.

“Worse,” answered one of the scouts.

“Humans are wandering around. Some of them look like hunters,” another scout said.

“Take the path around the city,” Ghost said. He signaled to the other Chiefs and

shouted,

“Spread the word. Stay together, no stragglers, one mighty herd moving as fast as we can.”

“What about the small forest families?” Wabooz asked.

“Ride with us,” Ghost replied.

Wabooz held onto one of Ghost’s antlers and yelled to the small forest creatures.

“Relatives, jump up on the backs of your deer friends and hold on!”

Ghost smiled. “One day, little hare, you will be a great Chief.”

◉

The sound of galloping hooves echoed throughout the ruin of the human world. Ghost bolted ahead. He scanned the area for hunters, especially sport hunters.

In the distance, he could see whirlwinds of dust twisting upwards and vanishing into the air. He wasn’t concerned; dust devils were normal during the summer. But suddenly, the tiny twisters gave way to a wall of dust so thick that the sky turned dark. Wabooz was in a frenzy, he was tapping on his forehead, shouting,

“There’s a herd up ahead!”

Ghost climbed a hill of broken cement slabs that had been upturned by the storms. From there he saw them. A colossal horde of mustangs and buffalo galloping together. The earth shook as the tall grass flattened beneath their hooves. Moving at speeds Ghost almost couldn’t comprehend, the mustangs surged across the land. Behind them, the buffalo. The herd seemed supernatural, their momentum so powerful it seemed as if they would fly.

Ghost barked fiercely, warning the Cervidae to stop. The Moose Chiefs raced to join him where he stood.

“It’s the Southern herd,” Ghost said, with pride.

“Is it a good idea for us to stop? What if there are hunters nearby?” Wabooz asked.

Before Ghost could answer, the ground started to rumble beneath them. A band of mustangs was rushing toward them. Majestic and proud, they echoed the feeling of freedom all the Cervidae were experiencing on this journey south. Nostrils flaring, they snorted and whinnied as they reached the foot of the cement hill and came to a stop. A dark copper and black stallion stepped forward. His dark mane fell across his face as he nodded to Ghost and the other Chiefs.

“Don’t worry about the hunters,” he said. “Our warriors saw them, they won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

Ghost grunted quietly and said,

“There was a time when the humans honored all of the life they shared the planet with. And we honored them in return. Then something happened. They slaughtered our families, just for the sake of killing. They hang our heads on their walls, they even kill their own kind.”

With a faraway look in his eye, the mustang replied,

“We have heard these stories from the buffalo too. They told us of the human built canned hunting ranches. Where there were fences that trapped them with no way to hide, and no way out. The hunters came again and again turning the land into a killing field. Not only were buffalo taken there, but many of your kind, and others too.

For us, the wild Mustang, who were born free. The humans said we drank too much of their water, used too much of their land. For years helicopters descended on us, Tearing our families apart and driving us from our homelands. We were sent to auction pens to die from sickness or be sold into slaughter.

The terrified screams of our brothers, sisters, and children as they were loaded onto trucks heading to slaughter will haunt us forever. Only a few would be rescued at the last moment. That sorrow is endless.”

Ghost exhaled with a snort, acknowledging the terror they all had been lucky enough to survive. He bowed his head, to the mustangs,

“I am Ghost,” he said, “Chief of the Cervidae. We are the Northern herd.”

“I am Red Sky, my band are the lookouts for the Mustang and the Southern herd. Our Chiefs saw you coming and sent us to invite you to celebrate the return of the Great Migration,” he said, whinnying with excitement.

The Northern and Southern herds gathered East of the migration route. Together they sang songs and celebrated into the night. Their wisdom keepers told stories of the Wizards of Time. When they held council with all of life on Earth. It was a celebration to honor new friends and the return to a life in balance with the sun.

During the night, Ghost met Cloud, Chief of the Buffalo.

“Do you know Sya?” he asked him.

“We know her from the storms these past moon cycles. She came to us in the lightning. Speaking to us through the thunder. Counseling in the ways of the Great Migration,” Cloud replied.

“She did the same for us. She stands on a hilltop in her stone form, glowing pink in the sunlight. She protects us all now and awaits the Southern herd. You will see her when you get to the border of the northern lands,” Ghost said.

The herds promised to meet again along the trail just after the Fall Equinox. As daylight ascended both herds readied for the next leg of the journey. In the calm of the early morning, they noticed the quiet of a world free from human-made noise.

The ancient route wound through the ruins of cities and towns. The Cervidae noticed human children playing in the grass. Their mothers carried baskets of berries picked from the wild brush growing along a nearby stream. They were respectfully quiet as the herd galloped past.

“Do you think they are hungry?” Wabooz asked Ghost.

“Maybe. The storms have only just cleared their villages. They will need to learn the way of the sun again,” he answered.

“Why are humans filled with so much fear?” Wabooz asked.

“Not all of them are; some are filled with incredible love. Mostly, they are out of balance with the Earth and don’t remember how to speak to the sky. We must hope the Wizards of Time will return and help them to learn again,” Ghost replied.

◉

They had been traveling for days when the herd finally stopped to rest. As he slept, Sya visited Ghost in a dream.

“You will be upon the southern lands soon. Spend the summer in the fields of pink flowers, near the river at the edge of the forest,” she said.

A few days later they arrived.

The air in the southern lands smelled of clover and honeysuckle. For as far as they could see, huge pink flowers towered above the tall grass. Like a welcoming gateway into the woods, hazelnut trees grew along the edge of the meadow. In the forest, sunlight filtered through giant cedars, oaks, and evergreens, offering cool shade, not darkness. At nightfall, balls of pink lightning thundered through the sky. Flooding the dark with a pink glow that sang to the meadow.

Night after night, Sya electrified the sky with her pink light. She sent small orbs into the woods, illuminating the entire forest in pink. The glowing orbs sped through the trees and bounced off stones in the river. They dove into the fields and rotated above the land. Ghost watched, remembering when Wabooz told him that Sya would never leave them.

Late one night, while standing amongst the flowers he saw something move near the river. He signaled to one of the moose chiefs and they made their way to the river’s edge. No one was around but the water reflected a silvery light. Something was there. Ghost thought it might be the moon. Touching the water with his hoof, the reflection rippled and disappeared.

The following night, when Sya lit the sky, Ghost called to her. She didn’t answer, but the lightning intensified. It tore across the sky and she cast even more orbs into the forest. They streaked through the trees like comets. Snapping branches, upturning boulders, vanishing and reappearing in the undergrowth. The forest floor pulsed with strobing pink light as two orbs circled each other with cyclonic speed.

The whirlwind of light roared and twisted into a towering pink vortex. Its tornadic force lifted the river water from its bed and exploded boulders that lay beneath it. Nearby trees bent in the electric wind. The tachyonic speed pulled on the fabric of space and disrupted gravity.

A long, resonant whine echoed through the field. The air creaked.

Hidden beneath the flowers in the tall grass, the Northern herd lay close to the ground. The smallest forest creatures giggled as they floated ever so slightly above the land. Ghost stood to see what was making the sound.

A bolt of pink lightning descended from the sky and rooted itself in the ground. It buzzed and crackled but didn’t move, as if it was waiting. WIth measured steps Ghost slowly crept through the grass. Moving closer to where Sya had anchored herself to the earth.

“Wait,” Sya said.

Ghost stood still, counting his breaths. When he got to five, a sparkling silvery light appeared amongst the trees. It rolled across the forest floor like mist. Moving as if it were part of the wind. The light stopped at the edge of the field and like shadows of trees, tall thin figures emerged from it. Shrouded in hooded robes and glimmering like the iridescence that poured through the forest, they moved as if they were floating across the land. There were ten and while they were human-like, Ghost had ever seen anyone like this before. One of their women raised her hand, palm up. Gravity returned to normal.

“The Wizards of Time,” Ghost whispered.

Sya crackled over and over again, holding a long conversation with the Wizards.

Peeking out from the grass, the herd stared in wonder at the beings who had just arrived.

“Are those the Wizards?” Wabooze asked.

“They have returned,” Ghost whispered, bowing his head so Wabooze could climb on. Together they waited.

The Northern herd gathered around Ghost, and after some time, the Wizards looked up. They lowered their hoods, revealing five men and five women. They had long radiant hair, luminous skin that shone like the blue moon, and eyes that sparked with lightning.

“Chief of the Cerivae, we are so pleased you led the migration south,” said the Wizard who had reset gravity.

“We are the Wizards who stand in the South. Time has shifted and your Earth Mother sings a song of renewal. With the return of the Great Migration the land has been freed. In time, there will be a reunion with the humans and life on the planet will be in balance with the universe once again.”

The Wizards put their hands on the ground and pulled orbs of light from the earth. They tossed them into the sky and like a rainbow, golden light arced through the sky; heading north. Another arc of silver light came towards them, anchoring itself into the ground. It signaled that the Wizards who stood in the North had welcomed the Southern herd.

From the east and west, shimmering blue and red light arcs moved through the sky. The four arcs formed rings around the planet. Announcing that The Wizards of time had returned to the four directions of Earth.

So it was that the Wizards once again walked amongst the humans.Teaching them to live in balance with the Earth and each other. At the Summer Solstice, Sya would leave her stone form and return to the sky. The Great Migration would begin and harmony returned to the planet.

When the Northern and Southern herds met along the way, a celebration was held by all. Even the humans were invited.

And where are the Wizards today? Well, that’s a different story, for another time. Just remember, if you happen to see orbs moving through the night. Remember it is a warning; that the Wizards of Time still watch and wait. Hoping for humanity to return to balance with the Earth and each other. Before Sya must be awakened again.

Photo by Brad Mann on Unsplash