“I have to leave. The scouts have to catch up to the hairy people on their trail and report back”

“Ok. Don’t be seen”

“Yeah” Yust was annoyed. Of course that was obvious wasn’t it? Did Bran consider him a child? He mentioned this to Mi later and she suggested that instead of that, it was probably because Bran was worried. Yust nodded his head.

Mi and Yust went off with the two other trackers from Lion and Bear bands.

“Fishguts!”

Yust immediately saw what the Bearband scout did. The trail split, one going west, the other to the north.

“It looks like the larger group went north” Mi offered her quick assessment.

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“So, did you want to speak?”

Yust, as usual, had a plethora of thoughts in his head but couldn’t figure out how to make them go out of his mouth.

“Yes. I don’t want to do this”

Ry nodded his head but didn’t respond.

“I don’t want to kill. I don’t want to be killed. I don’t want to watch Bran kill or be killed. I don’t want to leave here.” He gestured to the home.

Ry again uncharacteristically said nothing, but instead scooted closer and hugged him. Yust began sobbing.

“You sure do hold a lot, for a long time, inside that head. Doesn’t it hurt bouncing around in there banging the insides of your skull?”

Yust nodded as he continued to whimper.

“What do you want to do?” Ry finally asked.

Yust wiped his face and took a breath.

“I want to just move here. I want to just be me. But what I want and what I must can’t be in the same place”

“As often is true and they say too often” Ry held him closer.

“I will do what I must and then maybe I will be able to do what I want”

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“Fog” takes place in an unnamed land of towering trees, a large bay and ever-present seasons of fog. The protagonist is a young man, Yust, coming of age to enter as an adult in a mixed subsistence (hunt, fish, gather, some agriculture) society. He is faced with a decision all of his orientation (LGBT, though not explicitly named as such) must make. The decision brings love and harrowing adventures that lead Yust to discover their society is not what their stories describe.

There are a lot of concepts that have inspired this story:

Kin Selection and sexuality: Kin selection is the theory of “natural selection in favor of behavior by individuals that may decrease their chance of [reproduction] but increases that of their kin (who share a proportion of their genes).” The eusociality of bees and ants are a common and an extreme example. Naked mole rats, Florida scrub jays, Pied Kingfishers, and even slime mold are examples in varied degrees.

It has been hypothesized that homosexuality (and other of the LGBT spectrum) evolved as a sort of kin selection. Foregoing or minimizing reproduction allows these individuals to assist their kin to survive and reproduce. Though not ‘proven’ as one reason for the evolution of homosexuality, it is a strong hypothesis as one factor.

The society in “Fog” have ‘institutionalized’ this idea. Individuals of this “orien” (I need a better, less obvious word) are faced with a choice. They must become a Memory, a story teller and keeper of their histories, or a Care, a healer and carertaker of those without families to do so. Someone like Yust must choose which to train for and be or be exiled (or live in secret) as a “rogue.”

Tradition: Tradition plays a large part in this and many societies, though perhaps somewhat more strictly in the society of “Fog.” Breaking tradition is just something not done. The story attempts to explore why tradition is both advantageous and disadvantageous in society.

Fog: Both an ever-present part of the landscape and a symbolism of how much of their origin is obscured.

Anthropology: Some of the concepts in the story are based loosely on things I learned or read about over the decades. For example, in the society of “Fog,” men move to the woman’s village (never the other way around). I had read somewhere the hypothesis that societies like this have fewer domestic violence issues, the idea being the relatives of the woman suppress that more than the other way around. It also possibly leads to a more equal power balance between genders.

I am seeking beta readers if you are interested.

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Bran and Yust were rowing back to Ravenhome. They were deliberately behind the rest of the villagers. They wanted to talk about the Eastfest happenings and about last night without anyone overhearing. Bran was both fascinated and slightly shocked by Yust’s story of the last night. Yust was also fascinated and slightly shocked by Bran’s. Yust told him everything. Bran also. They were best friends and their trust in each other was both explicitly voiced at times and implicitly understood at all times. They laughed as friends do when they are happy for each other. The conversation turned to the next few days. Once they got home, they had to gather and prepare and immediately leave for Heronhaven the morning after next. They fell silent wondering about the next days and moons.

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30 villages stood and Yust was sure the other six not at the fest would have too.

“Send word to the six other villages. All villages should choose and send their archers and trackers to Heronhaven by the passing of a quartermoon. Each should be provisioned with arrows and weapons and food to last at least a moon so as not to burden the northern villages. Our decisions are complete.”

The group started to disperse to their camps. The air was loud with conversations.

War turned to his son and Yust.

“We leave at first light. We have some news to share and preparations to make”

“Papa, Uncle War, may I spend the night in Heroncamp?” It was often tradition, but considering the haste to return and prepare, Yust figured he best ask.

His papa nodded his head. War added his admonition.

“Be at Ravencamp at first light. Your papa and I have already decided those going to Heronhaven. It will be Bran, Caro of Raven and Dun of Heron as archers, you will go to help track.”

Yust nodded with all the seriousness he could, but things could not be better and his mind was smiling, his face fighting it back. He would only be a few days without his newfound object of longing and he’d get to spend more time with his old object of longing and best friend.

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“Hey Yust! Hey Ry!” He shouted as he ran south following the players.

“Make the kaey Bran!” Yust shouted back.

“You’ve longed for him” Ry stated. It was a statement bereft of jealousy, curiosity or any emotion. It was a statement of fact, of confirmation.

“I do... ah, I did.”

“We all do with childhood friends or village youth at some point. It is our lot”

Melancholy blanketed the statement like the ever present fog reaching over the hills.

“Was he your first experience?”

“My first and the only” Yust replied, the longing already weakening as it was being replaced by another.

“I trust it will not be your only” Ry said. Yust smiled, his melancholy hidden now.

“Let’s go get food” Ry announced after a pause.

Yust lifted his head.

“I am famished. Want to go to Bearcamp? I have not yet asked. I did not know you were ‘of Bear’ or where you grew up”

“Yes, I am the same branch as you, but I suspect our twigs are far apart.

Yust took in the information and wondered if because they were both of Bear that would hinder or help the discussion for the evening. They both got up and walked to Bearcamp to be greeted by Ry’s mama. His mama, Eli of Bear was a large woman, rare among the baypeople, but she looked very much like the namesake of her line and her village. She gave Yust a hug that almost folded him inside of her.

“You are darling. I love that you are of Bear. Did Ry tell you that I am ‘of Raven’? Yes, isn’t that a rarity! A woman of one village living in another! Long story.

So, a memory? I hope you move to Heronhaven. Ry needs a companion. Is that your hope? I hope to meet your parents tonight. I know your mama, we used to play together when we were children.”

Her words, like her hugs, enveloped everything. Yust liked her immediately. If Ry and he became companions, she’d be his village mama, the mama of his spouse. He liked the thought of having a mama or papa who wasn’t as guarded in their words as his own.

She had just finished making a fish stew and offered that and maize cakes to the two of them which they ate heartily and plead for a second helping. She obliged and served it with a side of stories.

They loitered for a bit listening to her.

“You should have been a memory mama” Ry chided when she paused after the story about how she got lost and found her way home when she was eight sols.

“Well, the stories I know that aren’t mine are from our memory. My stories I told the memory of course, but he never recounts them”

They all chuckled.

Ry and Yust got up. The evening festivities and discussions were about to begin and they both went to their camps to help prepare and bring their village food gifts. Tonight was the night of discussions. By tradition, no decisions were made. It was also the first night of stories. Memories that had come would tell stories of the baypeople. Some were myths, some were from long ago, others recent. All seemed to have something to do with the discussions at hand, some moral or lesson or tradition. Growing up Yust didn’t understand that at first, but as he got older and listened closer, he understood.

As they walked to the labyrinth, arms full with food and Bran chatting with Lan, Yust’s mind kept wandering about the roles and positions of memories and cares as he was soon to be one. The memories or cares were not allowed to take part in the decisions made the next evening, that was only left for men and women in attendance who had wed. The memories’ power was in the stories and traditions they knew and told. They could sway decisions, and often did, by the ones they told or did not tell. Cares role in the society was even more nebulous. Theirs was in the esteem that the villagers held for them; for the diseased or injured they cared for, or the elderly, maimed or children they took in. It was in the healing herbs they gathered and tended, the medicines they made, the knowledge they had. They could sway the entire village through their gifts and the whispered thoughts while tending the village. No villager was untouched, or not indebted to, by the nurture of a care. A care’s whisperings held sway over the minds of others.

Peto, Ravenband’s care, in contrast to the other cares from Yust’s observance, was far more laconic than others, who were known for being talkative as a group. He was even more reticent than the quietest villager. There was something about him. He silently held private pains he could not heal in himself. Yust respected Peto, he had set his broken arm when he was nine so expertly that no one or he could ever tell the bone had broken or even had broken the skin. He had seen others whose arm or leg was crooked or scarred deeply. Their cares were not as deft as Peto. He had also heard of stories of children dying from broken bones because there was no care in the village. For that he was grateful. But he rarely talked to Peto, his reserved manner precluded friendship.

There were times where the lack of direct voice for memories and cares in the affairs of a village or the baypeople chaffed at Yust’s sense of fairness, but he vaguely remembered a story or myth that explained that would be too much power. It also irritated his sense of romance that the men and women of his ourien could not choose their companion. The others more often could choose the mate they liked or were at least attracted to, but memories and cares could only choose a village. Their companion had to be the memory or care that was already in the village no matter their age, gender, looks, personality or desires. If the village had no memory nor care, you’d be alone. Even then, the villages with vacancies of memories or cares were a select number. Bran had young women of nearly three dozen villages to choose from. Yust had four choices and the cares of two were either much too aloof or much too mean and both were much too old. Only one, Ry of Bear in Heronhaven, was nice, young and attractive both in sight and manner. The more that Yust thought of these restrictions, the more frustrated and even perhaps angry, he became. By the time they reached the labyrinth he became silent from an explosive anger at his lot. His best friend’s focus on Lan hardened his mood.

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Yust was slightly annoyed. His mama kept calling him Yusti and kept reminding him of things he had already done. She seemed agitated and distracted. He hadn’t remembered that he was supposed to recite a story during his announcement. He wasn’t sure how he had forgotten that important bit. He decided to tell the story of the Bear Star since it was his favorite and the only one he remembered from childhood.

EastFest was the most important of the four festivals, though not always the largest, that was CelFest, though ThanksFest sometimes rivaled it. By tradition, only a few from each village were expected to attend the festivals, but EastFest was when ouriens and weddings were announced so many came to hear. It was also the festival where traditions were discussed and decisions for the new year made. This EastFest, since Bran’s wedding and Yust’s decision were being announced, their entire families and their friends were coming also. One other wedding, that of an older 20 sol woman named Del, was being announced. A 22 sol man from FoxHome was to move to the village after CelFest to be her spouse. They were older than usual. Yust wasn’t sure why it took her so long to find a mate, perhaps it was because she was tiny and weak. The man from Foxhome, whose name he had not learned yet, had been wed for two years, but Yust was told his spouse died in childbirth. The child, a girl, was to stay with the care in Foxhome, he would move to Ravenhome with his new spouse.

Preparations for EastFest seemed more frantic than usual. They had arrived back from Heronhaven just two days before which didn’t leave much time to gather and prepare the food, gifts and discuss the ceremonies. They also had to make their headdresses. Those usually took over a quartermoon or two to complete. Each person was to make their own, though Yust and Bran’s mamas started theirs and their papas for them.

Their visit to Heronhaven had been fruitful. Bran was able to see his new announced spouse, decisions about helping with the hairy men and Yust’s likely move to replace the memory of Heronhaven were made, though the final decisions couldn’t be made till the EastFest assemblies. Importantly for Yust, he spent some time with the care Ry. He was impressed at how calm and peaceful he seemed. He bested even Yust in his knowledge of the local plants and herbs. As they were taking a walk through the forest, they made a little competition of naming what they saw and something they knew about it. Ry won the competition. They both knew every plant they saw, but Ry knew far more about the plant itself. It was impressive considering he was only 18 sols. Ry was a little feminine in his mannerisms at times, but that endeared Yust more than anything. After their long walk and resting on a log, Ry had said he hoped that Yust did in fact become the new memory and his companion. He gently touched his arm. Yust had the urge to kiss him, but thought better of it.

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“Yow!” But he went in deeper to his hips even though his toes were already getting numb.

“Well, your turn. I can tell you this, this cures any desire to have an experience. I think my snake disappeared” Bran laughed.

Yust entered the water and walked up to Bran as fast as he could before he had second thoughts. He looked down and nodded his head with a quiet giggle.

Kombo sea greens were growing thick in the water and swaying in the waves like the grasslands in the breeze. He pulled out his knife and grabbed a large kombo sea green under the water. It was long and lanky with ‘leaf’ stalks growing from the main stalk. Yust carefully cut away the side stalks leaving the main one to regrow so they could come back later in the Cel season and gather more. He threw them in the basket slung over his shoulder. Bran was doing the same.

“Should we look for nor?” Bran asked.

“Let’s get some of that when we come back during the long days” he answered realizing that by the time the next sea green foraging time rolled around Bran would be living in Heronhaven with Lan. Bran just nodded his head. They continued gathering sea greens even though their teeth were chattering and Yust realized his toes were losing feeling.

When both their baskets were full, Bran motioned to the shore and they both gladly left the water. Bran and Yust put their baskets down and they sat in the sand shivering. Bran wrapped his arm around Just and pulled him close to warm them both.

“The rogue was weird and creepy” Bran interrupted Yust’s frustrated silence “I don’t want you to be a rogue.” It looked like there was a tear in Bran’s eye. Bran rarely showed emotion other than excitement and laughter when he was playing or goofing off, or anger when in an argument. This melancholy voice was something Yust only heard once before when Bran’s younger brother was killed by a lion. Yust didn’t know how to react or what to say.

“I don’t either”

“Yust. I love you more than my parents, or sister or anyone. I don’t know what I would do if you vanished. Probably break all the rules and let you live with me. But don’t be a rogue.”

Bran pulled him a bit closer.

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“How many times have we met someone from Hawkhome, or any home or haven for that matter, walking this trail?”

“Never”

“Yeah, Hawkhome has no reason to come this far North, their foraging area is huge. Why are you asking? Dreaming again?” Bran laughed.

“Always” he smiled.

“Hey, let’s climb highpeak and look around! It’s a clear day. No fog. No clouds. Maybe we can see some other villages including Hawkhome. Then we can walk down to the bigwater”

Yust didn’t like the trail to the highpeak. It was difficult and steep. But looking out over their homelands was enticing. He knew they wouldn’t see Hawkhome, it was too far South and deep in the trees. It was Bran’s way of convincing him.

“Sure”

After about a short walk, they turned right up a smaller trail. As they rose up the hill, the trees were shorter, till near the top there were none and it was all grass and shrub. They arrived at high sol.

Yust had only been here a half dozen times before in his life and each time he gasped after holding his breath at the awe of the view. To the west were never ending waves of sand dunes that gave way to the waves of the bigwater that stretched so far that no one have ever crossed them. No one was sure you could cross them. To the east, forests of huge Sekwa trees, a large bay and then vast unending Sekwa forests that gave way to grasslands. The grasslands ended at the mountains. . He had never been to the great mountains, and you could not see them from this peak. They would take over two moonturns to reach, if you made it through the aggressive grasspeople attacks. His papa went once and described it to him. The idea of mountain peaks many times taller than this one with solid water on them seemed like yet another fanciful story to him, one he’d have to memorize as a memory.

Bran scanned North across the narrow entrance to the bay.

“There!” He pointed across to a barely visible enclave of homes and several boats in the water.

Yust looked over at where Bran was pointing.

“Heronhaven”

They scanned to the east across the bay. The island in the middle was the Fest gathering place. Across to the other shore, Lionhome could be seen, barely, on a clear day. These are the only two band villages that could be seen. Bearhome was North and West of Heronhaven on the bigwater shore near a large river, Hawkhome far to the South. Others further East, North and South.

“We better get to the shore, it’s already highsol” Yust said.

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Yust was defiant.

“You have no choice. If you want to stay in Ravenhome, it’s the only path”

His mother was as defiant.

“But I don’t enjoy stories. Not in listening to them, not keeping them and not in telling them. It’s boring. And I don’t like Peto, he’s old and boring.”

“Life is mostly boredom” his mama said in exasperation as she turned to her weaving. That was the universal signal that the conversation was over.

Yust fell silent and went outside. His papa sat nearby carving bone for various forever unfinished projects. Yust took his complaint to his father “Papa…”

“Yusti, your mama said it all already. Go find Ems and tell her mama needs her”

This conversation between he and his mama had been had so many times that both were exhausted by it. There had yet been a resolution and he had to make a decision before his 17th sol was complete, in 4 moonturns. He knew not making a choice was also a choice: he would be expelled to wander the Northland forests a homeless vagabond. He had met one, 3 sols ago, when he was fishing with his uncle and cousin Bran on the Northern shore: A very strange and very dirty unkempt vagabond. The man attempted to overpower his uncle for their catch it seemed to Yust, but he was able to hit him hard enough with a stone to turn him back. He knew then that a non-choice was not a good choice either. He, as all others like him, had three choices: become a memory, become a care, or leave the Bayland. None of those choices were something he had any desire for. A memory would allow him to stay at Ravenhome. They had no memory. A care would mean he would have to go to another band since Ravenband had a care, the 30 sol old Peto. He had no desire to be Peto’s companion.

Yust walked past the other huts toward the inlet to check the fish traps for lack of anything better to do. The green-grey water was calmer than almost any time Yust had ever seen it before, as if it were sleeping.

His cousin friend Bran was sitting on a rock nearby staring at the bay.

“Hey!” Bran called out, almost as startled by the sudden rustling as he was excited to see Yust.

“Hi”

“Another talk with your mother” Bran asked.

“That obvious?”

“I’m your best friend. I know when you’ve had arguments”

“I’m your only friend” Yust laughed.

Yust climbed the rock, leaving the fish traps unchecked, and sat by Bran. The two sat together in silence as the sun finally crawled over the top of the trees on the other shore. Bran took a deep breath.

“What?” Yust asked.

“Well, I have a decision and news”

“I knew it. You sucked in air. Let the air back out”

“I've been promised to Lan of Heron. Our sealing will be at CelFest. I will become part of Heronband then. We are going to announce it at EastFest.”

Yust wasn’t too happy about the thought of Bran moving to HeronHaven. Eastfest was only a quarter moon away and Celfest was a short three moons or so away.

“But you’ve only met her twice! You are leaving Ravenhome so soon? What will I do without a friend here?”

“Ah, so I’m your only friend too! Ha! Well, if you just chose to be a memory, you’d stay in Ravenhome and I’d see you on festivals and anytime we come to visit family”

“That’s only a few times a sol” Yust’s countenance melted. He’d be lonely without his friend and stuck with Peto as his only companion. As always, Bran seemed to know his mind.

“Peto isn’t so bad. He’s kind and nice. And my sister think’s he cute.”

“He’s old. He never says a word. He’s strange”

“I wish Heronband needed a care. Or even a memory. I don’t know. Maybe they do. We should find out.”

“I already know. They have both. Their memory is almost 60 sols!”

“Wow. Is it Peto that’s keeping you from choosing being a memory, or just being a memory that you don’t like?”

“Both”

“You shouldn’t of announced your ourien last fest. Sealed your fate” Bran laughed.

“That would have been a worse life”

“Hey” changing the subject as he always did when faced with uncomfortable decisions, past and future, “lets go get some sea greens. I was noticing it was running low. Our parents will love us” Yust insisted. Bran smiled.

Yust loved being in the water, as frigid as it was, and anything to get him away from this discussion and leave it where they stood was welcome. The two of them got up and walked back to the village.

The path meandered along the shoreline of the bay. On one side was the greyish-brown sand that was almost mud, the other were the towering Sekwa trees that blocked out sight within a short distance, as if they were hiding something. Which they often did. The trunks of the red barked giants were so large, some bands carved them out for small homes or workshops, or some, like Hawkband, built their homes a hundred arms high in the branches. As the path met the river, it turned up the hill to a clearing where the village of Ravenhome was situated. The village was a circular collection of small homes, 28 in all, made of walls of weaved branches and clay, and a bark roof. Most of the homes had stone footings to keep the wood from the moist ground, and a small stone hearth. In the middle of the Ravenhome was a large fire pit and stone seating in a circular labyrinth around it. This was the gathering place for the band in times of celebration, decision-making or mourning. The labyrinth seating was intentional. Villagers would make their way to the seating by walking a labyrinth, giving them time to contemplate the reason the were finding a seat. Of course at other times, children just used it as a place to play tag.

Yust and Bran walked past it to Bran’s house. Bran’s mother was seated outside knitting something.

“Greetings Auntie Eri!” Yust called out as they approached.

“Hi Yusti! Hi Brani”

“Mama, aren’t you supposed to call me Bran now!?”

“Yes, I guess so. It will just take me a bit to get used to it. What are you two up to?”

“We are going to the bigwater shore to gather sea greens. Can we take the baskets?”

“Of course! We need more sea greens. If you’d bring back some clams, I’ll make stew”

“Ok, mama, we will do that too”

The two went behind the house where several gathering baskets were hung from a nearby tree. This is one thing the Ravenband did well, intricately woven dried grass. Bran’s mama could make the weaves so tight they would hold water with no leakage. She could get twice in trade that other basket makers could. They pulled two teardrop shaped baskets down, each with two straps to put over their shoulders, and slung them on their backs. Bran went into his house and got his bag, knifes, dried fish and berries. The two started off.

“Wait” Yust stopped them as they left the village. “We will need to camp.”

“Sure. Just one night though. I promised papa I’d help polish my new wedgift kaey before the EastFest. I can show it off to Lan.”

The both of them turned around and went to Yust’s family home. No one was there. His papa was probably out hunting fowl. This spring seemed to bring more of them than usual on their way North and quite few actually seemed to be heading South. His mama had said she and Ems were going to go mushroom gathering.

“Oh crap, I forgot to find Ems! I guess they found each other” Yust exclaimed. Bran just laughed at Yust’s regular forgetfulness wondering how he’ll ever be a memory.

Yust gathered a woven bag and added some needed items, another knife, more dried fish and berries and some sleeping pads. They didn’t need much for one night, and could forage for more as needed. The bigwater shore was only quarter sol away, they’d be there by high sol. They wouldn’t need much. å

“Let’s go!” Yust exclaimed smacking Bran on the back.

Bran grabbed Yust’s hand and led him out of the home. Yust was still surprised when Bran showed him the same affection he did when they were younger. Bran still hugged him, hung on him when the sat together, held his hand, even kissed him occasionally when he was excited about something. The months before he announced his ourien, he dropped hints with Bran hoping perhaps Bran might have the same announcement even though he was showing Lan a lot of attention at the last fest. Bran was his best friend and cousin and now he was starting to have other feelings. But Bran announced his ourien and now he was courting Lan. Yust would not have the fantasy life he hoped for, living with Bran, perhaps even in Bearband where both Bran’s and his names came from. They both were “of Bear” though both were born and grew up in Ravenband. Both his papa and uncle grew up in Heronband which, in addition to their friendship and relationship, bonded them. They were the only “of Bear” males in Ravenhome other than their papas. All the other males were of the other bands, Hawk, Eagle, Lion, Heron or one of the other several dozen or so bands of the bay people. All the females of Ravenband were “of Raven” as was mostly true of other bands. The females of Hawkband were mostly “of Hawk,” and Heronband were mostly “of Heron” and so on. The reason for that difference didn’t dawn on Yust until recently when he and his friends’ ouriens and promises were announced. The young men started preparing to move, the women preparing to accept their new partners in their home. Men always move , women almost never. Men of his ourien often broke with that pattern out of necessity.

Yust shook his head to get the thoughts of his future out of his mind. Bran smiled at him.

They walked on the trail in silence for most of the morning. The trail was familiar to them both. This was the Southern trail that meandered through the many hills of towering forests. It was longer, but took about as much time as the Northern trail along the coast because it had a lot of large boulders and deep sandy beaches that made walking difficult.

Yust broke the silence.

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