Mythical Seasons

The Yushikiki people of the northern latitudes have a story of a beast that appears in the worst winter storms. It takes a punishing toll on any poor soul it comes across in these storms.

Fuyuki tended to the fire in her hut alone on a frightful night. The crackling fire competed with the sound of the swirling wind outside. Fuyuki closed her eyes and offered a small prayer for the fire and the animal-skin-lined shelter that protected her from the ferocious storm. Her eyes opened slightly as she heard a strange sound amongst the wind. It was faint, but grew into something she could recognise. It was the sound of a man screaming.

Fuyuki peeked her head barely out of the double-folded opening to her hut. The blizzard was blinding, but the voice seemed quite close. She shouted out, “Over here! Follow my voice!” She saw the figure moving closer in the furious snow and continued to call out. A tortured man ran towards the hut with his eyes shut in pain as he frantically reached in front of himself. Fuyuki extended a hand into the biting snow and brought the man into the hut with a single exerted pull. The man writhed on the floor, clutching his face in agony. Fuyuki could see what looked like burn marks around the man’s closed eyes as he wildly moved his hands over his face.

“Try to breathe slower as I prepare a wrap,” she said in her best calming voice. She prepared a cloth wrap with cool water and gently wrapped it around the man’s eyes.

The man still seemed quite uncomfortable, but began to breathe normally and became less tense. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

“What happened to you? Why were you out in such a terrible storm?” Fuyuki asked. The man slowly recounted his story to Fuyuki.

He and several men from the village left for a hunting party. They could see storm clouds on the horizon, but knew that if the crows were cawing, the storm would be manageable. And so they ventured into the forest and hunted for game. As they approached the treeline, the crows stopped cawing. Many of them felt a sickening chill when the crows became deathly silent. With hesitant glances, a few men proceeded into the forest, and the rest followed.

Hours passed, and they had been quite successful in their hunts. And yet, a foreign chill and dread gripped them. Then a storm ripped through the forest at unbelievable speeds. They were instantly disoriented and took any refuge they could. The man had hidden in a hollow between tree roots. He felt terrifyingly alone as his shouts were lost to the wind with no response.

The storm grew in strength, and hunger gripped him. Through the snow haze, he spotted a four-legged creature’s form. The creature would be just as blind in the storm as the man was. He risked stepping into the freezing tempest. The man sheilded his face, only glancing up occasionally to track the distance to the beast. He could not recognize how far he had ventured, but the figure was getting closer and larger. This prize might be worth his risky action. Before he raised his spear, the creature turned its broad neck to face the man.

The creature’s face became clear, and its entire presence engulfed the man’s view. It had a body like a mighty and strong elk with antlers that danced like kelp in a current. Where its face should be was the darkest shadow against the white storm around. All black except for two pure white orbs. The man could not break his gaze from those radiant white eyes. From his own eyes came a sensation of fire. So intense that hunger, cold, and fatigue left him, as there was only burning pain.

“That’s awful,” Fuyuki said with pity.

“My grandmother had told me countless times to beware storms that stop crow’s songs,” the man said tearfully. Fuyuki felt a tremendous sadness for this poor man.

“May I check your eyes?” Fuyuki asked. The man nodded, and she removed the bandages. Fuyuki gasped at what she saw.

“What kind of sorcery is this?” the man asked. “How are we in a storm, and yet I feel the warmth of shelter and fire?”

“You are not in the storm. You are in my hut,” Fuyuki said with her hand over her mouth.

“How is that possible? All I see is the falling snow,” the man said in a panic. Fuyuki struggled to describe to the poor man what she saw.

You should never find yourself in a storm that stops the crows from cawing. For if you do, you may encounter the beast of these storms. And if you gaze into its eyes, your eyes may be replaced with white orbs filled with falling snow.

Forever blind, forever in the storm.