Thirteen Fires​

Standing at the fire, all the elders are looking at me, waiting for my response. I had worked hard and had done everything needed to get to this point, and now I hesitated.  Mad River Trace is an organization dedicated to keeping the traditions of the frontiersmen alive. The day of the ending ceremony had been warm with clouds that intermittently covered the sun. The Trace had cooked a turkey on a spit which we ate with potatoes, toasted French bread, and pies made on the fire. There had been tomahawk and knife throwing and we had played competitive games like “balance” and “poke.” After dinner, we listened to the legends of the elders. 

  

As the sun set and the world grew dark, the ending ceremony began. The spirit guide of MRT led me to the start of a trail lit by a single fire. Looking down the trail, another small light can be seen burning in the distance. The guide then hands me twelve sticks that had been hand carved the day before. They felt smooth with the ancient designs carved and branded into them. “Drop a stick in the flames if you feel you have upheld the first part of the law. Continue doing so for the other fires.” I walk over to the fire. The fire was built in a small urn and is only as big as a lantern. I wait a moment before dropping a stick in the flames. Farther down the trail is another fire. All around me is darkness, absolutely no light except for the flames burning brightly in the night, concealing everything around them in a blanket of shadows. The guide is gone and all I can see is the other fire, flickering in the night. The ceremony continued for another eleven fires. At the last fire, the blaze representing the last part of the law. I hesitate, and then breaking the last stick in my hands, throw one half to the east and one to the west, the directions of the sun and moon. ​

Another fire suddenly comes alight to the north and the elders are there surrounding a large central bonfire. They beckon me over to them and I approach like a mouse walking towards a cat. 

One of them speaks. “You are now at the point that if you choose to continue with us, much will be expected of you. The legends of our trace and our way of life must be preserved and taught to future generations. If you choose to accept the duty of learning the ways of the trace and passing them down to the next generation, sign the ledger and imprint your sign next to it.” 

The ways of the trace are not something you can just memorize. They are something that must be lived in daily life and you must be prepared to do what is necessary to keep them alive. It is not an easy decision to join the Trace; it meant changing whole ways of life. My mind begins to compare and contrast, calculate and recalculate at hyper speed. Thoughts are swirling around in my head, turning over and over. And then... my mind is blank. All that remains is a single thought.