Dream Catcher

Prompt:
Every so often, people have to empty out their dream catchers.

Memengwaa took three deep breaths – one for courage, one for guidance, and one for the spirit. This test of her abilities was the most important event of her life. It would decide whether she was worthy of being a handmaid to Asibaikaashi or merely a failure, good for nothing but weaving baskets.

She gathered the materials herself, as was proper, taking great care in their selection. First was the thinnest of branches from the red willow, bent into a circle to represent the shape of the world. Next, the sinew from a deer her father had killed that she pounded into fibres herself. Finally, the feathers, not from a bird of prey, as most would choose, but from a crow for luck.

Her fingers were nimble and quick and as she wove the webbing inside the circle she hummed under her breath; not, as one might expect, a song of praise or supplication, but a simple lullaby. Carefully she attached the feathers, one by one. At last Memengwaa was done. She sat back on her heels and looked at the five women of the Spider’s Council who stood in a circle around her.

“You have done well,” the eldest told her.

“But now comes the true test,” the youngest said, She took the dreamcatcher from Memengwaa and left the circle, disappearing into the night.

“You may take your rest now,” the eldest said. “We shall see in the morning if you are worthy of Asibaikaashi.”

In the morning Memengwaa was once again kneeling in the center of the circle. The youngest council member held the dream catcher.

“The child who was given the dreamcatcher as part of the test has been having evil dreams for weeks now. Last night he slept peacefully.” She handed the dreamcatcher to the elder.

The elder looked at it closely and nodded in satisfaction. She passed it to Memengwaa.

“Now you must release the dreams, as is necessary for a true web of Asibaikaashi.”

Confident now, Memengwaa ran her hands around the willow holding the web, then traced a pattern within the web itself, following the intricate lines. A whiff of black smoke spiralled up into the night air.

“Welcome, Memengwaa, newest handmaid of Asibaikaashi.”

The council pulled her to her feet and helped her dress in her new, ceremonial garb. The entire tribe was invited to join them in the celebration.

Much later into the night Memengwaa approached the elder who was seated near the communal fire, smoking a pipe.

“Honoured elder,” she began. “I would ask a question of you if I may.”

“Sit. Ask.”

Memengwaa sat down beside her, but found she needed to gather her thoughts first.

“You are wondering what happens if we do not release the dreams.”

Memengwaa looked at her in astonishment. “How did you know?”

The elder chuckled. “It is the question every one of us has asked.” She took a puff of her pipe, releasing the smoke into the night air. “An unemptied dreamcatcher becomes bloated with evil thoughts and dreams. Its purpose becomes reversed – no longer will it protect from ill will and dreams, but instead will attract them.”

“But I thought the sun’s rays dispersed the evil dreams.”

“That was a story made to pander to those not of the tribes. A clever tale to make profit from our traditions.” The elder took another puff of her pipe. “But those dreamcatchers have not been blessed by Asibaikaashi.”

“And it was she who taught us how to release the dreams.”

“And that, young Memengwaa, is the true purpose of the handmaids. To empty the dreamcatchers.”