Masks have been usually associated with mystery or joy throughout millennia. But sometimes they play a way more serious role in humankind societies. And, indeed, I tried to light up one in the story below, which has prompt #140 Mask as inspiration.
A few days ago my face had been tattooed, the kakiniit, the sign of a warrior. Therefore, I could not let my tribe down and not bring food home.
Suddenly, the blood in my veins was on fire and the beating of my heart was like the rumbling of the drum of war rites. I put on my warrior's mask and gave the order to attack the reindeer.
As if it had understood me, the white beast also roared and burst my eardrums before lunging at me.
It seemed as if all the ice was cracking in its way but without a hint of fear, I took out my knife to finish off the bear.
Before I reached it, my reindeer was ready to attack. I knew that a good lunge would give the polar bear no chance to evade my knife later.
This intention did not last long. From the diffuse polar curtain, I could see how my reindeer was ambushed by other two young polar bears, probably cubs of the monster.
It pained me to see my childhood friend fighting alone, but the disadvantage had grown, and if I did not return, my tribe would starve to death.
I ran like mad for my kayak. I think it was the adrenaline and the protection of the shaman that allowed me to jump into the water and reach the kayak, before the wild beast ate me.
I spent days explaining to the tribe that at night I had nightmares where I still heard the howls of pain from my reindeer. Guilt stabbed my mind at every moment, but I didn't have the courage to avenge it because I felt a hundred teeth would bone me. It had never been as cold outside as it was inside me at that moment.
“Hantak, your fate is inevitable,” Amokij, the tribal shaman, commented to me in front of everyone.
For a few seconds I hesitated what to say, but then I asked awkwardly.
“Even if it is to fail?”
“Life is more complex than succeeding or failing. Tomorrow is full of people who don't give up, like us,” Amokij said firmly before standing up and going to the big igloo.
Everyone stared at me, as if asking me to come after him. Still afraid, I managed to pay heed and made my way to where the shaman was waiting for me.
“Backing will arrive soon. They will lead you both to your revenge, and to our food,” Amokij confessed to me, looking for something among his objects.
“After what happened, they must be far away by now, very well guarded. I'd better go for another prey,” I said trying to make sense.
“Your fear will kill us!” shouted the shaman.
I was terrified by the shout, but even more so by how soon after Amokij went into a trance, shaking his head strangely, while babbling a language unintelligible to me.
I was still until he came to, and he said to me with complete calm.
“They are near the Arctic. It won't take you long to get there because the green sky will lead you straight to their hideout.”
These words could not have been more confusing, but as best I could I nodded, trying to avoid another wild reaction. In fact, I sought to get out of the big igloo as quickly as possible, but just before I felt Amokij's hand on my shoulder.
I turned around expecting the worst. Instead, I was surprised to see him offering me the legendary Ukk mask, the one that gave unparalleled strength to our ancestors to overcome any adversity.
An embrace bid us farewell and Amokij beckoned me, pointing his finger beyond my back.
It was, no more and no less, a wolfdog sled. A strong group of eight wolfdogd were solemnly waiting for me to venture into the most hostile lands in the world.
It had been a long time since I last drove a wolfdogs sled, but instead of being nervous, I was absolutely confident. Every wolfdog in front of me seemed to be as strong and tough as a bison. We were almost flying.
As we moved forward, a snowstorm embraced us in such a way that I felt the cold pierce every inch of my body relentlessly. As I yelled at the pack to keep going, I wondered if that was the Arctic or the white “Pirtuk” hell of Inuit legends.
I don't know how much longer we went like that, until without giving them any order, the wolfdogs stopped abruptly.
“Come on, keep on going, we will die here otherwise!” I shouted-I still remember that sentence well because of what came next.
The wolfdogs began to howl. One after another, their howls became a chorus that defied the sound of the wind gusts.
As if it was something magical, the dense white curtain that was threatening us, began to fade to give way to a dark sky illuminated by long blue and green waves that danced with each other.
Amokij's words came on their own “you won't be long in coming because the green sky will take you straight to their hideout”. However, at that moment I could see nothing but wolfdogs veering towards me with wrinkled snouts and sabers for teeth that kept looming in front of my horror.
It took me a while to understand, but fortunately not so long to react, for when I opened my eyes wide, I could see just how something broke through the ice beneath my feet to swallow me up.
I rolled several meters further, and because of the adrenaline of the moment, I realized that I only had the spear with me, but not the Ukk mask.
That beast was not the mother polar bear, it was one of her cubs which was already almost as big as she was. All around him were all my doggy allies barking at him in sign of an imminent collective attack.
Seeing this, for a moment, I thought that the warrior souls of the tribe would help us win easily. However, as if the snow had formed them out of nowhere, beyond the doggy circle, emerged mama bear and her other “cub”.
Again the nightmare from before: my reindeer making frightening death sounds as I fled like a coward. I questioned whether to do the same this time.
Living in torment or dying in glory, that was my dilemma until I speared it. This time I projected my spear towards the head of the bear that was surrounded and hit it. The beast fell and the wolfdogs acted fast to finish the job.
My warrior's pride was short-lived, because right away momma bear went berserk, whipping three wolfdogs into the skies. The others rushed at her, but there was no way to counter her madness. Besides, her other “cub” was waiting for any of them to get hurt before finishing them off.
But in the midst of all the fangs and claws, I finally spotted the Ukk mask lying on the ground near the damaged sled.
I went after the mask like crazy, diving headlong to reach it as soon as possible. Still untouched, I grabbed it and slammed it against my face.
The sensation of putting it on was frighteningly surprising. This is, although I felt I could control all the ice around me, I also sensed that I was losing my life with every breath I took.
Consequently, I acted as quickly as I could, and raising my forearms and hands in extreme pain, I managed to bring two spears out of the frozen ground to pierce the two remaining ferocious pale monsters.
That unreal moment would have cost my life immediately, unless I had not removed my mask in time. My eyes finally saw revenge come true.
Despite this unsuspected victory, on one side, there was me dragging myself to the sled, and on the other, there were the surviving wounded wolfdogs dragging the first dead bear with them. After I don't know how long, we started to go back home.
But the way back became heavy, so heavy. There was no more brain, no more muscle, there was only a slight illusion of being able to rejoin the tribe.
This illusion, like a small flame shining inside me, was suddenly extinguished with an icy breath, and I fell into a white cemetery from which I never returned.
Perhaps from beyond the grave, I then watched as the tribe, led by Amokij, found my body and the wolfdogs' days later, and performed a funeral rite with the Ukk mask, commemorating us as the last Inuit warriors.
