The Shaman
The young Wookiee sat all alone on a branch close to the house platform. He buried his head in the fur on his arm and cried, lost in anger and sadness.
"Moya'? Are you out here?" The voice belonged to his Aunt, Byelayasvetok. She and her husband had adopted Moya' when he was only seven, a mere toddler as Wookiees go. Belaya worked her way out onto the branch and sat next to the boy. She put her arm around him and comforted him. "What happened, Moya'?"
"They called me an orphan."
"Who did?, she asked, already knowing the answer. Moya' was a favorite target of the older boys at school. It wasn't hard to figure out what his weaknesses were, as the boy was not good at hiding his problems. Byelaya had always felt closer to Moya' than she did to her birth son. She appreciated his gentle nature and willingness to try to help people. But in the society of young male Wookiees, his nature put him at a serious disadvantage.
"The kids at school." He always refused to reveal the identities of his tormentors. When he would come home from school after he had obviously been in a fight, Moya' would never admit that he had been picked on. He always pretended that he had been injured in a friendly wrestling match.
"You know they only call you that because it upsets you. You have a family, Moya'. You know we love you as if you were our own son. We always will."
"I know." Moya' looked down at a couple of leaves that he had been turning around in his hands. He carefully avoided making eye contact with his Aunt. They had repeated this conversation many times.
"Listen, Moya'. I know that you want your parents to be alive. You refuse to give up on them. I admire your loyalty. You are a good son."
Moya' continued fiddling with his leaves.
"But you have to be realistic. You have to face the facts, Moya'. It has been seven years. Seven. It seems like just yesterday, but it has been that long. Moya', Wookiees do not usually survive as slaves for that long. If they were lucky it was quick for them. We have to understand that there is very little chance that they are still alive."
"They are alive. I will not give up on them."
"Moya', your loyalty is admirable. You are one of the most loyal Wookiees I have ever known. They are lucky to have you as a son, and I am lucky to have you as a nephew. But you aren't betraying them if you admit that they are probably dead. They will still be there for you, just in a different way."
The young Wookiee looked up at his aunt. "I don't understand."
"You don't understand now, but I have always thought that you would be a Wookiee who would be able to understand."
"What?" The boy was really puzzled now.
"Moya', your uncle is not particularly religious. He understands the basics of Life Day and our role in the great forest, but he has never been interested in Wookiee spirituality. You know how he is. He likes practical things. Crafting, hunting, that sort of thing. The spirits of the forest have never really spoken to him."
The Wookiee nodded as his aunt spoke. He knew only too well what his uncle's priorities were. Chyornayakoshka had frequently told Moya' that he needed to be more practical. That he daydreamed too much. And that he should concentrate more on his work.
"You and I are different than Chyorny and Koshakka. You know it. I know it. They know it. We are not related by blood, Moya', but we have a different kind of bond. A spiritual bond. I know you can feel it. You just don't understand it the way I do. You have not been trained, Moya'."
"Trained? What do you mean?"
"By a Shaman. Moya', don't you think there is a reason that you feel so bad when other people are unhappy? That you feel so close to the forest? That you love to be out here, alone, on your branch? You have a connection to the forest. One that is much deeper than just our Wookiee traditions."
"What do you mean?"
"I think it is time that you learn this for yourself. We should go talk to a Shaman."
*****
The next day after school, Moya' met his aunt at the Mother Tree. He couldn't hide his nervousness.
"Relax, Moya'. He isn't going to hurt you. I think he can help you."
When they arrived at the Spirit Tree, they came to a platform. Unlike the Mother Tree, there were no businesses here. It was very quiet and serene. Small groups of Wookiees sat talking softly. Some Wookiees sat alone, eyes closed, chanting softly. It was different than any place Moya' had ever been in the village.
As they approached an older Wookiee sitting off to one side with his eyes closed, Byelaya said to Moya', "That is Ciiirchalkabukk. He is my teacher."
"Your teacher?"
"What do you think I do while you are at school, Moya'?" She grinned, imagining what answer he might come up with.
Moya' laughed. "I guess I never really thought about it."
"Well, I come here each morning to practice listening to the forest. Ciiirchalkabukk helps me down the path toward being one with the forest. He has agreed to help you, too, Moya'."
As they approached, Ciiirchalkabukk smiled, but did not open his eyes. "Ah, Byelaya, my spirit-daughter. And this must be young Moyakoshkakyrit." The old Wookiee smiled and jestured for Moya' to sit next to him.
Young Moya' looked puzzled and his aunt grinned. "Moya', he does not see with his eyes. He is blind. He sees in other ways."
Moya' sat down between his aunt and the older Wookiee. Byelaya held Moya's hand as they sat. If she had done that at the Mother Tree, he would have fussed that he was too old for that, but here in the strange environment of the Spirit Tree the boy found it reassuring.
"I have spoken with your uncle, Moya'. He has agreed that you can come here three days a week after school to do your lessons with the Shaman and that you can do your apprenticeship duties in his shop after dinner. That should still leave you a little time to get in trouble with the other boys, too, during the week."
Moya' looked embarrassed and Ciiirchalkabukk laughed. "Relax, young Moyakoshkakyrit. You are a young Wookiee. It is what young Wookiees do -- they get in trouble." The Shaman smiled, remembering his own youthful misadventures. "But if you become my student, you will have have to make a commitment to me. Are you willing to do that?"
"What do I have to do?"
"You have to do what I say. You have to trust me. And you have to have faith in yourself. Do you think you can do that, Moyakoshkakyrit?"
"Yes, I can do that."
"Good, then we start tomorrow. Don't be late."
*****
As he left school the next day one of his friends asked Moya' if he wanted to go vining. Moya' had never really liked vining, and usually just went along to prove to the other boys how brave he was.
"I can't. I have to go see a teacher. Maybe tomorrow." The young Wookiee grinned to himself as he walked to his lesson. Maybe this whole Spirit Tree thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.
The first day was a bit confusing for the young Wookiee. Following the instructions of the Shaman, he sat motionless on the platform and tried to empty his mind. He tried to listen to the forest. But all he could think about was his home work, the work that was waiting for him in the bowcaster workshop, what was for dinner, and what Koshakka and his friends were doing.
As he got up to leave, Chiiirchalkabukk spoke. "Those other things are not important, Moya'. You must learn to block them out if you are to hear the voices of the forest. See you next time."
All the way home Moya' wondered how the Shaman had known what he was thinking. "He just guessed, I think. It couldn't be that hard."
Lesson after lesson, week after week, Moya' sat in silence and tried to clear his mind. He quickly learned that falling asleep would earn him a sharp poke in the side. Little by little the worries of every day existance could be eliminated. The young Wookiee found that he could forget about what waited for him at home. The activities of the other boys in the village seemed less and less important somehow.
Moya' started to notice the sounds around him. The rustling of the leaves. The groaning of the branches as they slowly moved in the wind. The song of distant birds as they sang to each other. He could hear the sounds of the forest. And Moya' thought they were wonderful.
As he stood to leave, his master smiled and asked Moya' to describe what he had heard.
"I heard the leaves and the branches as they moved. Oh, and the birds."
"But did you hear the voices?"
"Voices? You mean the birds? I guess you could call those voices."
"Not the birds, Moya'. The voices of the trees? Do you hear the voices of the trees?"
"But, trees do not talk, master."
"They do if you listen hard enough, young Moyakoshkakyrit. It just takes practice. Don't worry, you are doing quite well. You have come a long way already. See you next time."
Moya' puzzled all the way home. Voices. Of the trees. Surely this was just an expression. He couldn't mean that the trees actually talk. Only Wookiees talked, not trees.
Moon after moon passed, and Moya' found it easier to control his mind. He no longer had to struggle to block out the rest of the village. He found it remarkably calming to release his worries. He would hear the sounds of the forest and then work to move beyond them. And he somehow felt happier. He felt more peaceful.
*****
One day, as he sat on the platform, a very strange feeling came over him. He felt loved. The way his mother had loved him. It was different than what he had with his aunt. He couldn't explain it, but it was different. A memory, perhaps? But that thought puzzled him. Because, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he pretended when he looked at their holoimage, Moya' really couldn't remember his mother. And it always made him feel guilty. It made him ashamed, as if he had betrayed their love somehow. His eyes snapped open and once again he was on the platform.
"You felt something for a minute, didn't you?"
"Ummm, I am not sure. How did you know, master? You can't see my face. How can you tell?"
"Moyakoshkakyrit. You and I are connected. Just as you and your aunt are connected. And you and your mother."
"My mother? But how ..."
"You have taken a big step today, my young student. A very big step. But you have much to learn."
*****
"That is all I can teach you at this time." It was not a Wookiee voice. It was not the Shaman. It was Noldan.
Moya' snapped back to reality and remembered where he was. He was in a small village on a planet far from home.
It had started when an old man had approached him spouting nonsense about the force. He had thrust a crystal into Moya's hands and rushed off.
The force? The Jedi stuff? what did that have to do with him, Moya' had thought.
Maybe the guy was just a fan and wanted to give him a gift. It happened all the time as Moya' traveled around. People would give him bowcasters, donations for his museum, and other items. They asked him for autographs. They told him how much they appreciated his work for the Wookiees. They complimented his stories.
That must be it, Moya' had thought. Just a fan. Until the Sith had attacked him and tried to take the crystal from him. That suddenly made a believer out of the Wookiee. He started reading about the force and began wondering about the similaries between what he read and what he had learned from the Shaman. Maybe there was more to this than he had thought.
Once again, he was pursuing his spirtual side. But this time it was not on a platform on Kashyyyk. Or with the Ewok Shamans on Endor. This time, he was in the Village of Aurilia on the planet Datooine.
As he thanked Nolan and promised to return when he was ready to learn more, the Wookiee wondered at how his life had changed. He was no longer the simple forest boy who had landed in Tyrena not all that long ago. He had started down a new path and did not know where it was going to lead him. A path that somehow seemed familiar.