The Actor

4

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but the drifting sensation seemed to be glued on to his skin. He felt completely empty and completely bare, as if he was on a medical table with his body sliced open to show the people above him what he looked like at his barest parts.

His heart fluttered when it beat, and his lungs felt like they weren't getting enough blood. Another moment, and his ribs felt as if they had shattered in a million little pieces, splinters of his own bones rushing to escape his body, lighting his nerves. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then, he felt the whip marks on his back open, bleeding through his shirt and soaking everything with more blood than should be in his body. He felt sick, like he was dizzy, and going to vomit, and then he felt the wave of shame that came crashing over him.

Once again he was on his knees, his arms tied above him to a post. The flogging didn't hurt as much as the shame. His face burned and he fought back the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. He couldn't bring himself to look at the Fathers, who were ordering this treatment.

When it was over, their wives were the ones to treat him kindly.

He lashed out, wanting to escape from the feeling. There was something trapping him. He was caught-

"Auntie?" a toddler danced around her legs. Powaqa glared down at him, before sighing and continuing to walk, a basket of fish balanced precariously on her hip.

"Yes, little one?" she replied, motioning one of her own children down. They were somewhere in the tundra. Faces he had known but had forgotten walked around them, until a familiar one appeared.

"What's going on?" the child asked, looking between Powaqa and Aluet. His brother, Ugalux, gave him a pitying look, before giving a small bow to his aunt.

"The ship is ready. Please keep in mind I can only take him across the strait. Then it's all on Yupik and Evenk," Ugalux said, before looking over to him, "are you bundled up nicely?"

"Yes," he said, even though he was still cold.

"Good, good," Ugalux said, "now come. I want to get home before the sun sets."

"Um... okay. Auntie?"

"Thank you for doing this Ugalux," Powaqa said, "it really means a lot."

She handed over the basket, and he took it happily, putting it up somewhere high where his dogs couldn't get to it. He looked between the two, confused, before Powaqa began to walk away, shouting orders to her slaves. He went to follow her, but felt Ugalux's hand on his shoulder.

"You're coming with me, okay?" he said, and he furrowed his brows. Ugalux motioned to the canoe rocking in the waves.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking at his brother, a face he knew and trusted. Ugalux gave a small smile.

"We're going to your big sister. Zaltana."

"Zaltana?"

"Yes," he smiled, "now, arms up!"

He tried not to flail as Ugalux swung him into the boat, before getting in himself. There wasn't a second to breathe before he began to paddle. Dyami leaned into his chest, his breath coming out in cool bursts, before he looked up at Ugalux.

"Why do you have those nose piercings?"

"So the spirits don't get in," he replied, the boat rocking gently.

"What about the tattoos?"

"Pride."

"Mom says that pride is bad."

"Only for you."

"Why?"

"Because you're supposed to be the good one," he chuckled, giving him a small smile, "one day you'll get tattoos and piercings."

"Really?"

"Yep, when you're older," he confirmed, answering any question that he asked him as they went across the strait. Yupik was waiting on the other side. Dyami looked between the two of them, fearfully. Yupik was their cousin. He had never met him before.

"Angayuqaq!" Ugalux called, waving his arms before he pushed himself out of the canoe, walking over to his cousin and embracing him. Angayuqaq gave a similar calling. They pulled apart from one another and spoke in another language, of which he was only able to pick out pieces.

"This is the little one I told you about," Ugalux said, directing his attention to the little boy still rocking in the canoe, "Dyami, try to get out yourself."

He stumbled a little, but he managed to get to the ice before the two were finished talking. Angayuqaq nodded at him.

"Come along, little one," he said, in that strange dialect, "so you can get to your sister Zaltana."

The cold froze his bones. Hadn't he been wearing a coat. Why was it suddenly snowing. This was his memory, why was it different? Why was he standing over Aluet's body, he hadn't been the one to almost kill him, why was this happening? Every muscle in his body seemed to shake, and he felt like he was drowning as the blizzard that hadn't existed before whipped up around him.

He heard fabric tearing.

He gasped as he shot up, before pulling his knees into his chest, panting. His hands weren't human. He needed to pull those claws back before anyone-

Someone cleared their throat. He might as well have jumped out of his skin.

"Bad dream?" Zaltana tilted her head, looking at him as he balanced precariously on the two back legs of his chair.

"Just the last part," he mumbled, the chair making a smacking sound as it went back to all four, feeling sick to his stomach. He rubbed his temples, before looking around. This wasn't his home- where was he?- oh.

His long hair fell cropped. His skin changed to white.

"You don't have to worry," she said, "most everyone left."

"What time is it?"

"Late," she replied, "you were out for a good five hours."

"Oh," she motioned to her mouth, and he wiped the drool from his chin with the back of his hand, grumbling, "I didn't sleep well."

"Didn't sleep well then either," Zaltana raised a brow, "something up? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She laughed, and he immediately felt smaller, but not in a bad way. Now he felt like a child, running up to her because he had scraped his knees on stones and was bleeding everywhere.

"Zal'ka?"

She abruptly stopped laughing, "Are you okay, Fedushka? What's going on?"

He curled up into his little safety ball, his form beginning to shift like the emotions of the ocean. It was something very difficult to do, since attaching a physical power to your emotions was a reach. But, it did show her everything going on in his mind. All the things he wouldn't say.

Large porcupine quills came from his back. Jaguar spots coated his cheeks, and then his arms, and then his collarbones. His hair grew in black on one side, and an incredibly pale tan on the other.

"Oh, moy dorogoy," she said, moving to kneel in front of you, "who is trying to attack you? Who is making you feel small?"

"I don't know," he whispered. She studied him sadly.

"What is the attacker showing you?" she asked.

"Everything I don't want to see again."