In the Wyld World, there are many religions, just as there is in this world. However, in the Wyld World, there is one thing that practically all religions have in common: They are the final word in terms of what is, and what isn't, acceptable.

Enter young Nate Redbone, Native American of the Navajo tribe. He has almost turned 20, and still hasn't gone Wyld. However, once Nate becomes Natalie, how will he be treated amongst his own people? And in return, can he accept them as well?

The Changing Woman
A Wyld Universe Story
Part 1
by AoifeM

Spring, 2012, Durango, Dinétah, The Free States:

There are many talks about the atrocities of Texas, the xenophobia of the Northern States, and the progressive mentality of Cascadia. Many broken parts of the former United States have been in the spotlight for things good or bad, but away from them lies a region on the map barely noticed in the international community. It’s been that way since they’ve established themselves 10 years ago. They called these lands the Free States- a society made mostly of refugees who fled from the neighboring countries whose mission was to persecute those who go Wyld. To those who lived here, the Free States meant freedom. To the other countries, “free” meant that if strong enough the states could be theirs for the taking.

However, we have another word for our land: Dinétah. It was located in the center of the nation, surrounded by the original states of Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. It was an old word, rejected from use a long time ago by our Navajo ancestors. They claimed that the name was the past, and the Navajo was the future. How ironic the past repeats itself.

What do I mean by that? Well of course, the Wyld, as they were called. So many legends amongst our people speak of mystical beings who came and blessed us with prosperity. So much of our cultural identity came back to the forefront. The stories of Diné Bahhane’, the creation of life. It tells of the first woman born on this world, Asdzą́ą́ Ná¡dleehé, the Changing Woman, who gave birth to the Hero Twins, and successfully eliminated the monsters of this Earth.

But who are monsters and who are diné? That was a difficult question for any of us to surmise. Some of us with gifts were not condemned as long as we remained human in appearance. Others, who took forms too hideous to describe were banished, forced to live out the days in the hot, unwavering desert. Much like everybody else, our religion was the basis of our law and order, and with that, we made our judgments. That which was once past legacy now is in the forefront of our society, and we embraced it wholeheartedly, even if it was looked down upon our Free State neighbors.

I was approaching 20 years of age. It is during this age that all peoples of the world begin their great journey that would ultimately decide my fate. This would determine whether I’d be diné or monster. However it had not come for me yet. And every day longer I wait as the paranoia gets harder to ignore.

My family could see the strain creeping within me. This too, was as hard on them as it was for me. They sought council with the Shaman of our village. It was our hope that maybe he could force the Wyld out of me.

Some people who believe in scientific reasoning would find the idea preposterous. Then again, I’m sure science can come up with a perfect explanation of the Wyld phenomenon as well. It’s been a major part of Navajo tradition. Rain dances, Powwows, to dance and chant to the spirits, the Diyah Dine'é, to assist us. Perhaps it would work. Who knows?

“So Nate,” my best friend, Shawna, began, “I heard that you were to visit the Shaman in hopes of finally revealing your Inner Self.”

Revealing your Inner Self is what they call turning Wyld. Shawna, although six months younger than me, already turned. As in fact I was there to witness it, as a flash of light enveloped her. Two wings of ocean blue hue outlined with fire red tips appeared upon her back, giving her the ability to fly. Likewise her feet turned into talons, much like an eagles. Many thought of her as a monster, but our Chief said otherwise, claiming her totem was that of the honorable Thunderbird, and all of its descendants should be revered and respected.

She would however prefer to live life as just plain Shawna.

“I don’t get it,” I replied. “Isn’t it everyone’s fate to go Wyld during their 19th to 20th years? You’ve already transformed, and you were barely of age! It’s starting to get to me, Shawna.”

Flying beside me she comforted me the best she could. “I’m sure it’ll happen sooner or later. You should enjoy the time you have right now.”

“And that’s what I worry about,” I admitted. “What if I turn into a monster? What if I grew six arms and razor sharp teeth and hide as hard as rock?”

“I think you’re getting a little carried away,” she claimed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone being that unlucky.”

“Then how about just a winged demon cat with an insatiable lust for flesh and has to constantly hunt for her pray to keep from going all animalistic?”

She looked at me strangely and asked, “Have you been reading too many comic books again?”

Moving in front of her I grabbed her shoulders as she slowly landed. In all seriousness, I asked her, “If something were to happen. If I were to turn into some freak, would you still be there for me?”

She smiled as she put her arms around me. “Of course, Nate. Hey, maybe I can help you with your hunting. These wings do have their advantages.”

I gave a little chuckle as I added, “Must be fun being able to fly like that.”

“Sometimes,” She stated. “Anyway, I got to get going. I’ll catch you around!”

She flew off, adding to the intense envy I had of her. While she could avoid obstacles and get to her house in a few minutes flat, I had to navigate the streets, the pedestrians and the occasional barking dog.

Speaking of dogs, or at least something similar (I know how them crazy animal lovers get when trying to equate the two), I couldn’t help but realize out of the corner of my eye a coyote staring intently at my direction. Yet, it didn’t feel like it was an act of aggression. For some reason, I could almost sense he was lonely.

Lonely or not I couldn’t let it get around me. We lived two different lives. I didn’t know what diseases it could carry, or what panic it could bring.

I tried to shoo it off, but all it did was stare at me with his head cocked sideways, looking at me in confusion. I tried to get it to divert its attention by throwing a rock over his head, hoping he would run away in fear or at the very least go and fetch it. Instead it just remained.

“Stupid coyote,” I grumbled. I began to turn away from it, hoping he’d just stay there. Of course, as I walked the other direction he began to follow.

“Damn it!” I yelled. “Go away!”

I had to put up with him all the way home. These were times when having wings are handy. Shawna is way too lucky.

Slamming the door in front of him, I was finally able to separate myself from the coyote. I felt at ease for once. It made me real uncomfortable, staring at me like that.

Unfortunately it remained outside my house. My parents complained nonstop, but it just couldn’t leave. It’s considered taboo to harm a coyote, so if it didn’t want to budge, it couldn’t be helped. And in the middle of the night it sat outside my front door, howling as I tried to fall asleep. I had little success.

The day came sooner rather than later- the day I had my visit with the tribe’s Shaman. My father waited for me, as I adorned myself in the tribal gear of my ancestors. Gone were the clothes of everyday life, now I wore the outfit of a Navajo warrior. My mother finished applying the warpaint upon my face. With only a hairpipe breastplate hanging around my neck, and my pants covered in buffalo hide leggings, I was pretty much set to go. With my head held high, and my nervousness held in check, I made my way to the inner circle, where the Shaman waited for me there.

While walking in the Shaman, with his booming voice began.

“In the beginning there was darkness. From darkness spawned light, and from the light spawned the Diyin Dine’é, precursors to our people. From the light came First Man and First Woman, and Coyote and the First Angry. This world is referred to as the First World.

Together they traveled from one world to the next, bringing with them the knowledge from world’s past. Eventually they entered the Fourth World, the world of humankind. Such a world was filled with monsters, creatures which hid in darkness. First Woman and First Man, along with Diyin Dine’é, created the sun, moon, and stars we see today.

From the Third World First Man and First Woman brought forth the earth of the former six mountains. With assistance from Water Sprinkler and Fire Ye’ii the sacred mountains were reborn. And from pinnacle of the mountain Chʼá³olʼį́ʼ᭠came darkness. First Man traveled there, and heard the crash of lighting, the pouring of rain. And yet, vaguely, he heard the cries of an infant child. What he found was the doll of a turquoise girl, the sky parted, and as he reconvened with the Gods 12 days later, near the summit of that very same mountain, a ceremony was performed, and from that doll the first human, Asdzą́ą́ Ná¡dleehé, was born.”

The old man stood up and walked to me. In a lower voice, he explained, “You see, you are like the turquoise doll. The Fourth World is coming to a close, and the Fifth World lies ahead. What lies within you is your own true being, the form you will take as you enter the new world. It is our duty, as keepers of Dinétah lore, to bring out your true form, and to truly see if you are worthy to make such a journey.”

He handed me a jug of water, or at the least I thought it was. “Drink this, so we can begin.”

Kneeling on the floor before him I heard the chanting of my family members as the ritual commenced. The Shaman blew grounded corn dust onto my face, causing me to wince a little. The war drum began to sound, creating a beat to dance to. And they all dance, chanting the name of our Gods, praying for them to release me from the shackles of my human form.

I started to feel myself let go. It was most likely the sounds of my people, whose rhythm put me into a trance. All my worries seemed to disappear. It was if I no longer had control over myself. My body was in my Shaman’s hands now.

Carrying a tanned leather tarp on his person, my father began to unfold it. It was big enough to cover someone as me. Thus was the grand finale.

Handing it over to the Shaman, the chant reached its crescendo. All I could see now was a whirlwind of color. I was starting to think that the drink I had wasn’t just water. But I felt good. Better than I ever had. Without noticing everything went black; the Shaman covered me with the tarp, and it took me a few seconds to realize this.

And it took me a while longer to realize the white flash of light that came afterwards wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.

As the tarp was removed from my body all I could hear the sound of stunned silence. And that only lasted temporarily as my mother pierced it with a deafening shriek.

Did I…become a monster? I thought to myself.

If only it was that simple. It only took the blunt words from my dad to help me realize the severity of my situation. “She is a woman!”