The four daughters of Five-Finger and Lady Doe were An, Yan, Dalva, and Hilrokanono¹/an/; /jan/; /dalˈva/; /hilroˌkanoˈno/. They were smarter than their brothers; instead of fighting, they settled in good marriages: An with Eagle, Yan with Gazelle, Dalva with Snake, and Hilrokanono with Boar. An and Eagle birthed the Eagle people who went to live in highlands and in the skies. Yan and Gazelle birthed the Gazelle people who spread all over the savanna. Dalva and Snake birthed the Snake people who went to live in water and under rocks. Finally, Hilrokanono and Boar birthed the Boar people who went to live in the confluence of the River and the Semse.

All of the people were much smaller than their mothers, but a little larger than their fathers. Compared to us, they were still big, though.

***

One clear summer day, Akere²/ˌakɛˈrɛ/, an unknown creature of untellable size, passed through the world. He was bigger than the biggest of the giants, wider than the sky, and heavier than the earth. He entered from the abyss and went back into the abyss, leaving two huge footprints—one in the south and another in the north. He eclipsed the sun so that the day became night. His footsteps caused earthquakes all over the world. His breath created winds of unfathomable strength that tore apart trees and crashed rocks. His head scraped against the sky, leaving a wide mark on its surface—people later called that mark the Sky Scratch (Milky Way).

Akere passed and left, leaving the world in shambles. Everything went rolling, spinning, changing, everything was put in motion. What lay still was now moving; what lived forever became mortal; who didn’t know hunger began starving. Nothing was there to stop the motion, so it became eternal. The smallest and softest things moved the quickest, so they died first. The hardest and biggest things moved the slowest, so they died much later.

The first one to die among men was a woman named Ka. Her body grew weak, her joints stiffened, her heart and stomach got hard as stone. She couldn’t eat, breathe, or talk anymore, but she still could think. Her body became unliving, but her mind was still alive, so it separated. She became the first spirit.

Without her living body, her muscles, her hands, Ka couldn’t do anything but wander aimlessly. She couldn’t even touch the water—it pushed away her spiritual body. She tried to jump into the River, but she only drifted across its surface. Unliving Ka slid back and forth across the River, leaving behind flickering bits of herself. Those lights above the water were later called Ka’s Lights.

“Oh, how I’d love to feel the soft coolness of your water again!” Ka lamented.

“Well, I can help,” she heard a voice say. It was Dat, who had become the Northern Demon.

“O, stranger, can you? Will you? Please!”

“Sure, bodiless one. But first, you must help me,” Dat said. He told Ka to go south and find the Big Mountain. Near that mountain, he told her, there should be a Small Mountain. “Go up that Small one,” he said, “and find the crystal of the sky. I left it there during the brawl with my brothers.”

“And then you will help me after I fetch it for you?”

“Yes, I will.”

Off Ka went, to the south, searching for the Small Mountain and the crystal upon its top. Dat waited for her to the north of the River. After eleven days, Ka returned.

“O big one, I beg your forgiveness. I couldn’t find the crystal where you told me to look for it,” she said. Dat was disappointed.

“Did you find the Small Mountain?” he asked; Ka said, yes. “Did you climb onto it?” Ka said, yes. “Did you look well?” Ka responded affirmatively. “And you found nothing?” Ka said, no. “Then go to the south again, onto the Big Mountain this time, where Klazhano sits with his stupid hammer. Find out if he has the crystal. Fetch it for me if he does. Don’t fear his hammer—you’re body-less, it’ll do nothing to you.”

Off Ka went again, to the Big Mountain in the south. Dat waited for her to the north of the River for twenty-two days. When Ka returned, she was downcast.

“O big one,” she said. “Klazhano doesn’t have it and has never had. There’s no crystal on him, or behind him, or around him—I looked.”

Dat was angry. “Ssa, useless life!” With his huge sandstone hand, Dat smashed at where Ka stood, then smashed at her again, and then, seeing that she was unscathed, swallowed her.

He sat on the shore of the River, out of heart. Suddenly, he felt a strange surge of power in him. He felt warmth in his belly and clearness in his head. He felt positively good! Until the spirit of dead Ka made her way out of his body—then he felt bad again.

“O big one,” Ka said to him from below. “I do not like it inside of you. Be kind, be forgiving! I will do what you ask me, but promise that you help me return my living body.”

Dat pondered: this strange feeling must have come from this spirit. It brought me power. I wonder what power I would get if I ate a lot of spirits like this one? I wonder if that power would then let me cross the River and throw that idiot Klazhano down from the Mountain!

“Are there others like you?” Dat asked.

“I don’t know, but there must be. The world is in motion, people are dying,” Ka responded.

“Do you know where they are dying?”

“I remember where they used to live.”

“I offer: bring me the spirits of the dead, and I will think on how to return your living body.”

“Truly? Do you promise?”

“Sure, I will do this. But bring me the spirits first!”

Off Ka went, this time to the place where she last remembered being alive, which was not so far away. She didn’t find any living ones there. She searched all around the land, but there was nobody. She called, but no one answered. She cried out, but there was no reply. Ka was ready to go on further when she heard a voice say,

“Poor Ka, she left us so early.”

And another voice said,

“None of us could help her. Nor anybody, really.”

“Yes, the world is in motion. What can we do about it...”

Ka went to where the voices came from. She saw two shadows of men, blurred and grayed out, as if covered by muddy water. She recognized them—they were her relatives. Ka remembered how she used to love them both, but she did not have a heart to remind her what it meant “to love”. Ka wanted a body and for that she had to bring Dat spirits. With her two hands, she reached out to the men’s necks. She carefully touched them, waited a little—and snatched away the spirits of both men, right out of their necks.

She brought the spirits to Dat, and Dat devoured them. Ka hoped that this would satisfy the Northern Demon and make him return her body. But the demon only demanded more spirits of deceased ones.

This was the first act of exchange, and it went poorly for Ka. She didn’t receive what she was promised; she kept bringing spirits to the demon with no payback whatsoever.

Ever since, the living ones taught their youth: never say the name of Death. Don’t make her work any easier.

***

After Akere’s passing threw the world into chaos, the four sisters did everything they could for their offspring. Each of the daughters became the first shaman for their people: An for the Eagle people, Yan for the Gazelle people, Dalva for the Snake people, and Hilrokanono for the Boar people. Very soon they realized that they could not do much alone, so each of the sisters gathered seven daughters from each tribe to teach them the shamanry. The daughters then went on to become shamans for their tribes, revered helpers of the people in the messed up world. Thus, four main practices of shamanry were established.

The sisters themselves, meanwhile, went on to become the Big Helpers. An became the Invisible Bird, bearer of spirits of the deceased ones. She would fly all over the world, gathering the spirits before Ka could reach them. She would then carry the spirits to the east, along the movement of waters, to where the Eastern Sea meets the world’s end. After washing in the sea’s water, the spirits would then cross the end and reincarnate on the western side of the world.

Yan became the Knowing Antelope, bearer of skill and experience. She would travel all over the world, sharing what she had with clever ones. Fools would hunt her for her knowledge, but she would only mock them.

Dalva became the Benevolent Snake. She would mingle with the treacherous reptiles, listening to their talks, stealing their things, and passing them on to her people. She was the helper of the men against the creatures of evil.

Finally, Hilrokanono became the Mighty Boar, bearer of brute force. She would be the one men would ask for strength in their rough moments.

Thus, the four sisters became the first patrons of men.

***

From the caves in the Western Mountains came the Cat-Fox, a sly, treacherous creature. She had the eyes and face of a cat, legs and ears of a fox, half the body of a cat, half the body of a fox, and a huge furry tail sixty-four elbows in length.

Cat-Fox went onto the plains to watch the four brothers fight. This was her thing—watching others brawl with each other. “Ouch!” Klazhano moaned when Dat hit him in the groin, and Cat-Fox chuckled at the amusing sound of that ouch. “Hara!” Ramaral yelled, flying past Dat out into the plains, and Cat-Fox laughed in delight at the sight.

When Dat heaped up the Small Mountain and his brothers tried to take him down, Cat-Fox watched, holding her breath. Then, Trut made the Big Mountain, and the brothers rushed there. The Small Mountain was abandoned. On top of it, there was something sparkling.

This sparkling interested Cat-Fox. While the brothers fought away, she sneaked up the Small Mountain and found there the Crystal of the Sky.

“Such a nice thing lying without a care. What a shame!” Cat-Fox whispered, hid the crystal in her tail, and ran away.

The brothers’ fight was soon over, to Cat-Fox’s disappointment. She traveled to the confluence of the River and the Semse. The Boar people had already settled there by that time. On the edge of their settlement, under a wide young acacia, there lay a wrapped blanket. The rest of the people were out hunting, there was nobody in the settlement. Cat-Fox sneaked up to the bundle and peeled off the blanket—there was a little baby sleeping inside.

“Oo-tyty,” Cat-Fox hummed, “such a cute thing lying out here without a care! I shall fix this.” Cat-Fox hid the baby in her tail and dashed off, but a bush blocked her way. “Aycha, what’s this doing here? I don’t remember this,” she exclaimed. She sniffed the bush but felt nothing suspicious, so she hit it with her leg and ran away.

On she went, traveling across the plains, to the River Iz. There, near the confluence of the Iz and the River, a group of mesas stood crammed together with narrow gorges in between them. In one of those gorges, there was a cave, and in that cave, there sat a man. He had a fire in front of him, a skin of a bull on his shoulders, a bunch of hair woven in dreadlocks on his head, and two bracelets on each of his shins. His eyes were closed, his mouth shut, but what’s most important—near his right hand there lay an orb of azure color.

Cat-Fox was mesmerized by the beauty of the orb. “Oh-oh,” she said, “such a magnificent thing under the hand of such a nasty creature. What a shame! I need to fix this. But how do I steal it?”

Cat-Fox thought about her actions, watching the man in the cave from behind a cliff. She slid down the rock and sat up, looking west—a bush stood in front of her, suspiciously reminding the one she stumbled upon earlier.

“What, bushes now walk around?” Cat-Fox thought. She picked up a small rock, then thought it over and picked up a bigger one. Then thought of it some more and picked up a big hefty boulder. and, with all her might, tossed it into the bush.

“Korrra!” Old Raven screamed, dashing out of his cover.

“Oh, that’s a neat little trick you’ve come up with. Did your old head make it up?” Cat-Fox said instead of greeting.

“Filthy bastard. Shameless thief!” Old Raven screamed, grabbing his stick.

“Insulting. Theft is natural and noble!” Cat-Fox said. “You should know it, old fart, it’s always been like this.”

“Always? It’s never been noble! Come here, swindler, show me what you’ve got on ‘ya already,” Old Raven said and swung his stick, but Cat-Fox dodged it. She sprinted down the gorge, into the plains, and away from Old Raven, but Old Raven kept up with her on his wings, showering blows from above. He swung his stick—Cat-Fox covered her head with her tail. Old Raven hit the tail, and wouldn’t you know it? The eight stones of the past fell from it and scattered around the lands. Old Raven hit the tail again—the stolen baby fell out of it and landed in the Red Lands. Old Raven hit once more—the crystal of the sky hit the ground near the source of the Semse. For one last time then, Old Raven hit Cat-Fox, with all the strength he had. That hit was so strong Cat-Fox split into a cat and a fox. The fox ran into the Western Mountains and remained there. The cat ran into a hole in the earth and hid underground.

Old Raven circled above the hole, squawking incessantly, swaying his stick around. Sometimes the cat showed its face, and Old Raven launched a hit, but the face then disappeared into the hole again. Old Raven kept circling above. He thought of using the fire to smoke the cat out, but he didn’t know how to make it. He thought of flooding the hole, but the streams were far away. He thought of some other tricks, but then Akere passed through the world and thus, the chase ended.