It started with a feather. A feather that rode the air until it landed at his feet. The gates of his repressed memories were in an instant unlocked and as quickly his mind was clear. Clear in a way he never thought possible. The soot of many emotional firestorms was wiped clean. Even the air smelled differently as if his senses were suddenly heightened. His vision, his hearing, everything changed at the drop of a feather.
A large black crow sat alone, without sentry. He observed and gave an occasional nod of the head. The totem served to confirm that his awakening was not a dream but his birth as shaman.
He stood and walked as the crow led, forever to wander and guide. Power of wisdom is but one side of the coin. To be cursed, the other. The lesson to be learned is to teach the coin to stand on end forever in balance.