Eritopia

A Decision Made

Not-Bear woke and looked around. It was dark, but a faint light above the trees showed dawn was on its way. Through thin clouds the moon shone bright. A few other animals were sitting up too. Others were wandering among the hundreds of still-sleeping bodies. Then he became angry, because he remembered what had happened.

'Bear, wake up.' He nuzzled his friend's face until he awoke, spluttering and wiping his nose with a paw.

'Ugh,' he said.

'Well?' Not-Bear said.

'Well what?'

'What happened to the Occasion?'

Then it was Bear's turn to remember the events of the evening and turn them in his mind. 'Didn't we eat?' he asked.

'No.'

'I remember being very tired, I must have fallen asleep, I'm sorry I missed the ceremony.'

'What ceremony?'

'The Ceremony of Names of course. I do apologise, it must have been all that activity in the Forest, or the early start.' He yawned and stretched his arms. 'How did it go?' He became excited then and pulled himself up to sit cross-legged.

'It didn't happen. There was no food, there was no ceremony, I still have no name.'

Bear looked at him. 'No name? I had hoped...'

'Well I haven't,' Not-Bear repeated. He described the music and the smoke and the flashing lights, the manic dancing and the lack of both food and names. He repeated the last in case Bear still didn't get it.

'How strange,' said Bear. 'There's always food, and there's always a Giving of Names.'

'I saw other animals go into the Circle, and come out again. You were no help so I went down myself, but by the time I got there it was over.'

'Over?'

'The naming. If there was any.' He looked around. A goat was a few yards off, scratching in the grass.

'Hey you, did we get any food last night?' Not-Bear asked him.

The goat looked up, mouth full of grass, and shook his head.

'And what about the Giving of Names?'

The goat shook his head again, then moved off to avoid any more questions.

'See!'

'That's not right, not right at all,' Bear said, but didn't seem to know what to do about it. Not-Bear knew what he was going to do about it, and he went off down the slope towards the Circle. The stones soon loomed large in the morning mist. There was no one around so he walked straight up to one of the huge grey monoliths. Centuries of weathering had left it scarred and pitted. He noticed what appeared to be cracks in the stone were actually patterns carved into its surface. He walked to the next stone, which bore similar patterns, and shook his head in disbelief. Who had created them, and for what purpose?

Now he was inside, the Circle wasn't quite as imposing. He explored a bit more. A massive mound of ashes and half-burnt timber in the centre of the stones was all that remained of the fire. A strengthening breeze fanned the embers. The pyre had been built on a huge flat stone, like those that formed the outer Circle but embedded in the ground. Cream and green lichens dotted the surface. Smaller stones were arranged around it in a circular path. Not-Bear wandered around, trying to sense the energy that had created such a frenzy the day before. He left through an archway and returned up the slope to where Bear, by now awake, sat rubbing his tired eyes.

'It's called Writing,' Bear told him, when he had described the stones with their strange patterns. 'And you shouldn't have gone down to the Circle, it isn't allowed.'