***

  Sighing, the young hunter kept to the etiquette he was taught when coming upon an occupied campsite. "Hello in camp," he called clearly as he took a few steps forward.

  The camper pulled the blanket away from his head to reveal long brown hair, a pleasant smile and a vaguely familiar face. "Ah, little Khoveyo," he said warmly. "Come, sit."

  Stenhelt paused at hearing that name and then stepped into the small clearing. "I remember someone ca -" He pointed at the man excitedly. "You're the herbalist who helped my father long ago! You're Chu - um, Chula, yes?"

  "Chohla," the man corrected him with an easy smile. "Your people have been saying that word wrong for generations."

  "What?" Stenhelt asked, not quite paying attention. He was studying the outfit Chohla wore under the blanket; a matching set of tan leather jerkin, leggings and soft shoes. Dabbed in random places on the clothes was a deep blue paint. The herbalist had gotten a bit messy in his decoration - three spots of the same color were on his forehead. Sten didn't want to point it out and embarrass the man who was so kind when they'd first met.

  Chohla reached into the folds of the blanket around him and pulled out two tin cups. "Want some tea?" he asked. "It's almost ready."

  Stenhelt suddenly remembered the bear. "No, wait," he blurted, "you need to kill the fire and cover that pot! There's a huge bear nearby! I've never seen anything like it!"

  "I'd wager I have," Chohla responded calmly. He used an edge of the blanket to grab the pot handle. Pouring slowly into both cups, he said, "I've seen many odd things in my travels. Don't worry, the bear is gone."

  "So you saw it! Are you sure it moved on? It evaded me so easily."

  "Slow your heart, Khoveyo - we're safe here," Chohla replied as he set the pot down.

  "That animal was no Kalde bear," Sten said in a calmer tone. "I've never seen its like."

  Chohla smiled pleasantly. "It has no name here," he said, "although people from other places know it well. There are many more languages out there than you might expect, and all of them have a different word for bears. Nahqui, whoth, daxpitse, grizzly, nonookuneseet... I could go on. Even your people's high tongue has a word for bear: weda. You may have been taught that, but I'll wager none of your teachers know of the breed you saw. Why would they, eh?"

  "I doubt they'd ever seen one, not even my father."

  "I agree - doubtful. Maybe you'll see another such bear again someday." He offered Stenhelt a steaming cup of the aromatic tea. "Careful, it's still near to bubbling."

  "Thank you." He held the cup and sat on the cold ground across the fire from Chohla. Despite the herbalist's calming demeanor and words, Sten was still obviously nervous as he eyed the forest around them. "Truth be told, I'm not sure I want to see a bear like that again."

  Chohla grinned, staring into the fire while he stoked it. "That rush of life, it can be a scary feeling sometimes, at least in the beginning. You might change your mind later."

  Stenhelt was unnerved by the herbalists' simple but exact description, 'rush of life'. Besides the cryptic last words, Sten was alarmed that the strange man seemingly knew something private about him. No, Sten thought, he probably meant the pure thrill that anyone would feel if they saw a... weda... grizzly... whatever it was called. Either way, thinking on it was distracting, so he moved on. "I'm glad to see you again, master Chohla, but what are you doing here?"

  Glancing around at his campsite, he said, "I like this spot. I don't think I've ever camped here before." He looked back over to Sten. "It looks like I picked wisely; we've managed to cross paths again. Sometimes I'm lucky that way. How fares your father?"

  "He gets along well enough, thanks to you. Sometimes the cold gives him pain where the curs tore at him, though." Sten glanced around at the small, simple camp. "Would you rather visit my parent's home, or maybe the village? We're only a short walk away."

  "We are?" Chohla asked, mildly amused. He put his finger into his steamy cup to test the heat of it. "I was guessing I was further south, but it doesn't much matter."

  Stenhelt frowned. "You don't know where you are?"

  Chohla shrugged and picked up his cup. "In a way, I always know where I'm at. I know I've made camp in the Cragwood forest, which is in the mid-south of the kingdom called Kaldevarr. Your country sits on the northeastern reaches of the vast land most people call Ethion. It's just the little details that sometimes elude me." He nodded, perhaps in appreciation. "Now it's plain where I'm sitting."

  "I'm - I'm glad I could help," Sten stumbled through the words, disconcerted by the herbalist's oddly casual manner and speech. "Does that mean Kaldevarr isn't your home?"

  Chohla took a long sip of his tea before answering. "That's a good question. My people are travelers, some more than others. That could mean we have no home. But I've been to many places over and over, so it feels like I have more than one."

  Stenhelt paused from blowing into his cup to frown at Chohla. "I don't understand."

  "You were born in the village nearby. What if, from an age younger than you are now, you and some of your people kept moving from place to place? Some would say that your village isn't your home; they'd say that all of the land you move around on is your home. I think part of me is Kaldevarran, but only one part of many. I'm not so different from you, Khoveyo; Kaldevarr is much of who you are, but not all."

  Eyebrows furrowing, Stenhelt said, "That can't be right, master Chohla. I haven't traveled far, only to the Skean Peaks a handful of times with my father and brother. I haven't even been to one of the other villages along the South trail. And I was born in this country, the same as my parents and their parents. I can't be anything else but Kaldevarran, so how are we alike?"

  Chohla stared into the fire for a few long moments, and then asked, "Do you know the history of your country?"

  Stenhelt shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Maybe not as well as I should."

  "That's alright," Chohla said with a warm smile. "Tell me what you can recall."

  After a moment of thought, Stenhelt began. "Lady Krin - oh, that's Lady Tovira of the Oma-Krin estate - she's been my teacher for the last of my normal lessons. She taught me that Kaldevarr is in the Age of the Triad, cycle 255. Our - um, my people, they came from Ferrenis through the northern pass long ago. Lady Krin said that Ferrenis was a land of clans that always fought. People from many of the clans were tired of the wars; they gathered and decided to come here. That was the start of Kaldevarr and the Age of Pioneers; it lasted 72 cycles, I think. Then, after some King died, we started the Triad Age."

  "Hmm," Chohla grunted, as if he'd learned something new. He took a small gulp of tea and then asked, "Did your teacher tell of what a few of those early pioneers found when they first came to this land?"

  Stenhelt looked puzzled. "I suppose they were the first to find the rivers and high plains and mountains and such..."

  Chohla smiled, wide and genuine. "I'm sure your Lady Krin is a smart woman, but no teacher knows everything. Some truths are small and subtle. You don't find them without knowing where and how to look. One of those little truths is my people. A few of my kind were here before your pioneers came, and stayed for a while after your Kaldevarrans began to settle."

  "They were? They did?" Stenhelt asked, surprised.

  "Oh yes, but they laid no claim; they were travelers, as we still are. The only evidence my people left behind were little decorations made in remote places, like deep forests or in caves."

  "Decorations... I think I've seen one!" Sten interjected excitedly. "Out between Pike Hill and Cliff Lake - that's about a full day south of here, back where the trees grow dizzy big. My father and I found river stones, all stacked one on the other, straight up on top of a boulder. Both of us wondered how it stayed up at all, not even counting wind or rain." Awe was evident on his young face recalling the memory. "We thought it bad luck to disturb it, so we moved off. You mean that one of your people from long ago made that?"

  "Something close to that," Chohla repli
ed with a shrug. "The etchings or little sculptures meant nothing, just a sign that one of my people was there. They mostly avoided your explorers, content with solitary activities. Once in a while, though, there would be reason or interest to meet with some of your early people. It was usually with good intent, and on rare occasion it turned into very friendly encounters." He said the last words with a quick grin and a wink.

  "Your people and mine married?"

  "Ah, no; my people don't share your custom to wed. It was more like... mingling. And here is the heart of it. I have gathered many skills over time and travel, and through one of them I can sense lineage. You, young Stenhelt, carry some of the blood of my people."

  Sten cast a doubtful frown and asked, "Are you sure, master Chohla? It sounds of a fine tale, but I leave the whims of fancy to my little sister."

  "You don't have to believe me, Khoveyo. It's your choice," Chohla said without a hint of offense. "But when the beast within you rages again, think of this talk after."

  Stenhelt couldn't conceal his surprise. "I don't... How - how did you know?"

  Chohla ignored the question. "I am sure that your Lady Krin is wise and full of good intent, but her source of power isn't the same as yours. She and every other of those 'Makers' use their strong minds to warp common thought to create their magic. But you, Stenhelt, son of Halivik, do not need books and headaches and years of study; your strength is instinctual. It has been in you, with you - part of who you are - since birth. You have just begun to drink from the well that my people dug. Your teacher, or anyone else you know, will not have the answers you seek."

  His cup of aromatic tea forgotten, Stenhelt stared into the crackling fire.

  "Did my words somehow hurt you?"

  "No," Stenhelt slowly replied with a subtle shake of his head. "It's just..." He finally looked at Chohla and quietly asked, "The Lady's efforts are wasted on me?"

  "Not at all," Chohla answered as he refilled his cup. "Well, mostly not. Learning is always a good thing, even if you're not able to wield magic as she does. I sense that her efforts have taught you a few useful lessons, no?"

  "Only one or two," Stenhelt replied self-consciously. "Lady Krin calls them tricks. It's been near to four cycles now, master Chohla, and I'm barely past where I started. I'm letting her down."

  After another sip of hot wintergreen tea, Chohla said, "Teachers can only be happy if the student wants to learn. If there are more lessons - tricks, as you say - that you want to learn, then keep on with it if you like. She'll be happy, which will make you happy. Just remember that your true power doesn't come from bending your mind; it comes from much deeper within." He gulped down the last of his tea and then reached out for the other cup.

  Stenhelt handed his tea back. "So, you have answers for the things that are happening to me?" he asked tentatively.

  Chohla set Sten's half-full cup next to the fire and said, "I'll wager I'm not as good of a teacher as your Lady Krin. I'm more of a guide. Through your blood and heredity, the abilities you'll learn will come naturally. Since your power comes from my people, I know a lot about it. You act on instinct, and your body changes to meet your needs. It was the same for me, long ago." There was a pause, as if Chohla was about to say more. Instead, he pursed his lips and adjusted the tin cup closer to the flames.

  "Is there a way to stop it? I don't want to accidentally hurt anyone, or even scare them."

  "I think I heard your father once say to go about something with both mind and heart, yes?" Sten nodded. "Follow his wise words, Khoveyo. You might not be able to stop your impulses, but adding thought will help control them."

  Stenhelt let out a relieved sigh. While he wasn't comfortable with the changes he'd felt within himself and seen with his own eyes, he realized not to fear them if he kept his wits. He watched as Chohla gulped down the last swallow of tea and then pulled the blanket closer around himself. "Master Chohla," he wondered, "do you feel the bite of cold as most people do?"

  "No, I can ignore hot and cold for a while, just as you probably can. I just like this blanket."

  "Oh," Sten nodded, trying to suppress a grin. "Could I maybe get some guidance on this instinct ability I have? I think I should get some control over it."

  Chohla set the tin cups aside and tucked his arms back into his blanket. "You should go soon; I'll wager your family will be expecting you. But I think I can give you a small hint before you go."

  "Yes?" Sten asked eagerly.

  "Think on how animals heal their wounds."

  There was an awkward pause until it was clear that Chohla wasn't going to say any more about it. Stenhelt didn't think it was much of a lesson. He was never one with a surly word, especially for an elder, so he merely nodded his thanks. Chohla was correct; he would have to get home soon. He stood and rubbed some heat back into his legs, then stood straight and asked, "Can I come back here in a day or so to ask more questions?"

  "I doubt I'll be in this spot, Khoveyo." Chohla then grinned and added, "I'm a traveler, remember? You go about your chores. I'll make sure we cross paths again soon; maybe later in the spring." He scooted further back under the rock shelf and reclined against his large bag.

  "Yes, um..." Stenhelt hesitated, not sure if that was Chohla's way of ending a talk. Nonetheless, he felt the need to offer thanks as he was taught to do. "I appreciate everything you've told me today; I have much to think about. Oh, and the tea was very good." Chohla looked up at him with a pleasant expression but said nothing. "Are - are you sure that you don't want to come back to my family's house? I'm sure my father would be happy to see you again."

  Chohla shook his head. "Not this time; I'm going to enjoy this camp for a while. It will be snowing soon, and I feel like taking a nap. It must be the old bear in me," he said with a wink.