The Ancient Door

The village shaman came across me on the edge of town when I was still an infant, my body unprotected and exposed on the ground. He had always hoped for a son, so he brought me into his home and raised me as though I was his own. Our town rested on the valley’s east end near the foot of the Ayrondale mountain. It consisted primarily of fur-lined tents connected by roads made from carved-out tree trunks. We had an advantage during winter due to the mountain above us decreasing some of the winds. My favorite place growing up was the town square, our most sacred area. It’s where everyone met to talk about our history, folklore, and hunting stories and make all community decisions. Small imprints and scattered pillows littered the area where various