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I first heard this story when I was five. The settlement around me was flourishing nicely even though the Shaman had died a few days after the attack. I grew up with my mother and father. I wasn't told about Orkama and his disappearance until I twelve and by that time, everyone had more or less given up hope of finding him. But I felt inside me that I wanted to go and find him but naturally, my parents always held me back.
Each year, the ceremonies for the new Shaman went ahead. What happened was this. All the girls that turned eighteen went into the reincarnation site and stood there. If they were to be the chosen Shaman then something would indeed happen. So far, no one had shown any sign of becoming a Shaman. I had just turned eighteen and it was my turn with many other girls to try out and see if one of us was the Shaman that would lead our tribe.
We had a meeting with the priests who lived in the temple. They told us that we'd go in
alphabetical order and we'd have to stand in the
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middle of the reincarnation site. If we were the chosen one then the gods would show us. They told us about the whole ceremony and how long it would last. They finally left us and allowed us to talk among ourselves. We were forbidden on that day to go anywhere except the temple. It was an ancient tradition that had originated thousands of years ago.
We ate flat bread and wine given to us by the priests and continued to talk. There were around twenty girls waiting for the ceremony to happen I was eager to see if I was the chosen one. I thought about what it would be like to be the Shaman. I'd have magic and be able to cast mighty spells. It sounded so magical and unreal. Having magic would be the real icing on the cake.
The evening came in and the priests allowed us to go to the lake behind the temple. We all went over and washed ourselves. I always like this lake. The blossom on the trees all around the lake floated gracefully on the surface of the water and the sunset sparkled, casting a red
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