“I am a warrior,” Dream me bellowed, looking at the Shaman council. “I don’t do rituals I kill our enemies and there are enemies to kill!”

The oldest of the gathered shamans spoke in a firm voice that gave no room for disagreement. “No! You are not a warrior any longer. That was who you were, but we must find out who you are now.”

The only female in the room spoke up with a soft but haggard voice. “We must see what Chaos has chosen to do with her first in so long, Perhaps even Order wants you.”

I bellowed once more. “Ha! Like Order would care for me. I will walk through the caves and gather those who want to hunt the monsters down and then we will sow destruction through all those who would attack us!”

She spoke again, “oh, my lady would want one such as you. Gathering an army is the work of Order, making plans and hunting, are her past times.”

I paced back and forth in front of the council. I was fuming; if not for my tribe’s shaman being there, I would have left already. Only because he had been training Lorrie did I give this group any respect. They were standing in the way of me, seeking to hunt and kill the green hoard.

The council was speaking with each other in hushed voices. It seemed like my outburst had caused some sort of rift in the group though I would never know if the split had already been there. Much of what happened with the shamans was secret, and even being in the same room as them, I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

I was getting more impatient. I could have been on the trail of those who killed my love. I could have been hunting them down one at a time, killing them as they slept. But no, I was here over a day away talking with those who never saw the blood of their enemies drain out before them. Yes, the shamen were worthy of being honored, and they had wise words, but they were cold. How they honored Chaos with a cold coal I would never know.

The eldest stood up from where they were seated and, lifting his weathered staff, spoke. “The Shamen have guided the clans for as long as we can remember. Pointing to Order and Chaos in all things. Seeking to teach you foolish young ones what that means!” He took a deep breath, let it out, and then stood tall. “You offered yourself to Chaos for a chance to destroy those who took from you. YOU ASKED TO BE TAKEN TO HER FIRE! You are the one who will walk the path which none have walked since before there were clans.”

The lady shaman started to chuckle. The others nearby gave her a stern look. “Order laughs at drama as much as Chaos causes it.” She said in a hushed voice.

From behind the council walked out two apprentices carrying between them a massive clay pot. They set the pot down between us and stepped back and around. The shaman who had been speaking stepped forward. He lifted the lid from the man-sized pot and reached in, pulling out ash.

All the shamen spoke at once, “Come forward, step into the ash of her fire and take on the roll that you must. Become, our battle priest.”

I walked forward, tasting the words in my mind. Battle Priest. What was that? I knew what battle was but was not sure what a priest was.

They took my arms and armor and then covered me with ash. The ash burned as it seeped into me. It felt like the first time I grabbed a coal. I watched the hair on my skin catch fire and vanish. My beard burned, and the pungent odor of burning hair flowed up into my nose as ash covered me from head to toe.

“Eat the ash and become one with her fire. Where her fire burns brightest, so too will you be found. You will be her ash, and you will cover those who must burn.” They all intoned at once.”

Then that same shaman of order who always seemed to be speaking out of order spoke again, “Fill your belly young priest bring in the power of Chaos to you, the more of it you bring in the great your connection to the fire.”

I set myself to the task that she placed before me and as my body blistered from the ash and my insides screamed in pain, I used both hands to shove the ash in my mouth. I breathed in the dust that came up and felt my lungs start to fill. My knees began to give out from the pain, and my vision closed in, so I dropped my head into the jar and tried to keep going.

I felt myself pass out in my dream, and when I awoke, I was in a tent with three others. They knelt beside my bed, and when my eyes opened, I saw them bow their heads.

“Battle Priest we has been waiting for you. We are to teach you the ways of a shaman so that you will have our power when in battle.” The middle one said.

I rolled my legs off the cot and looked at myself. My body had changed from a hairy tan to hairless and gray-white. My skin now looked like ash. I dragged a finger down my arm and saw that it didn’t rub off. It was my skin; it had changed.

I looked at the one who spoke, “What happened to me?”

“You have become her ash to cover the world, you will be what smothers the flame of her enemy there is nothing left to burn from you. You are now her cold Chaos.”

I stood up and noticed that the places I had scars were gone, and my muscles all seemed lean. I was still the warrior I was, but I felt like I was different now.

“What is it that I must learn?” I asked

The same one spoke again. “Our magics. To step fully into the your role you must know both how to kill with the sword and use mana. We will start you on the path but she will take you where you must go.”

The one on my right spoke, “your path is long and our seer can’t tell where you are going. Your ways are as gray as your skin.”

The one on the left spoke next, “Your first task however, is to lay to rest those of your clan. Come with us and we will show you what must be done.”

We made preparations to leave the camp we were in. I had my arms and armor returned to me. While they still fit, they felt off. My skin was now more sensitive to everything, and the gear felt lighter.

It was just before noon that we set out towards my old cave. The day was beautiful; the sun was bright and warmed the cool fall air. The birds around us didn’t care about my morose mood; they sang with abandonment. The animals around treated this day like any other, they lived, and they ate. The shamen with me understood my feelings but the guards that went with us were indifferent. They treated this like it was any other trip with people to protect, not one to the site of where my life ended.

For the rest of the day, we were on the trail, and then we stopped for the night. It was a little early to stop, but I recognized where we were and knew that it was the best place. It was a small cave that wasn’t big enough for a tribe but was big enough for the ten of us.

We settled in for the end of the day and slept the night in relative safety. When we got up, we made our way to my old cave. When we got there, I saw that all of the tribe had been buried, and our men there were waiting for us to arrive.

The shaman that was in charge, who still hadn’t told me his name, said, “come with me I must teach you how to lay our tribes to rest. It may give you peace in knowing that your friends may enter the cycle of rebirth safely and quickly.”

The second one spoke up, “when laying to rest this many, it is best to bring aids with you. There are herbs and stones which can help amplify what you do. Without these aids, the best you could hope for would be to do five or six a day which takes too long.

The one who had told me that my path would be long brought over a bag and started to pull out clumps of herbs. He took me around the whole grave and showed me where to draw ruins and place herbs and power stones. The magic working that I saw was more significant than anything that I had tried so far.

The head shaman drew me over and told me, “You must dance the dance of the cycle, I will lead and you will copy each time we move through it we speed them on their way more.”

The three of them started slowly, with me following an echo of what they did. Each pass through the dance, I felt power drain out of me and into the spell on the ground. Each revolution of the dance, I felt my emotions crack as I saw all of their lives flash before my eyes. I saw their joy and their terror; I felt it all from the whole tribe. I felt the pain and pride of my brothers as they stood firm, dying to try to save some.

I saw everyone who died, but I didn’t see the memories of Lorrie. Where was she?