Syrada & Seranku
Just as reindeer turn their faces into the rising arctic winds, we too were drawn northward by its calling, through childhood and through the slow unfolding of the years. Why did we follow it? Because our spirit and our human truth speak with the voice of a far-off shaman clan of the boundless tundra, and our soul was born of the North itself: of frost, of untouched tundra, of the silent taiga where home means Nature.
In time, our solitary trails met at the summons of our clan, and along the sacred Ngamtusu’o path we reached the purpose of our origin and our earthly wandering: an endless journey, free from the world of human will, yet sheltered by the tribe, the ancestors and the guardians of nature. As the matter of our human form was forged in the cradle of stars, our existence slipped beyond earthly patterns and returned to the great expanse, to the Celestial Reindeer Caravan, the Milky Way. Our journey takes its rhythm not from calendars but from the Moon phases and the turning of the seasons.
We honor and lift up life. We cherish the ancient ways of the soul, the reverence shown to nature’s unseen beings and to our ancestors, the harmony of human existence, the path along which women bring forth life, and the passing of our clan’s wisdom, the wisdom of the Ngamtusu’o shamans, through teaching and ceremony.
With the permission of the clan, we wish to guide many across the Great Gate, that their souls may awaken to the truth of their own being.
We speak for an ancient natural order whose values neither exalt mystery for its own sake nor seek to shape hierarchies, but rest upon the primordial knowing that “the People of Humans are One with the All.” To live this truth faithfully is the key to the safe survival of our descendants and the living world around us.
We come to you now, offering our shamanic sight and ancient rituals to help weave harmony between humanity and nature, and to nurture peace in body and soul.
The Story of Amaruq
In the old winters, when our people traveled only by the strength of their spirit and the memory of their ancestors, there lived a shaman who strayed from the path of the clan. Believing that truth could be found in silence alone, he walked into the tundra without kin beside him. For many nights the fire of his camp shone against the snow, but no other flame answered it.
Yet the order of the North does not permit a shaman to wander in loneliness. A shaman’s sight is meant to serve the people, and the people’s warmth is what protects his sight. When this bond is broken, the tundra itself calls it back into balance.
So the ancestors sent Amaruq, the wolf who carries out the will of the land.
Amaruq found the wandering one beneath the moon. He did not speak, for wolves do not waste breath. He followed. Step for step. Breath for breath. His shadow lay across the shaman’s tracks like a second path. Each night he came closer, his presence reminding the young one that no being, not even one who sees the hidden world, walks the Earth for himself alone.
The shaman feared he was being hunted, but the elders say fear is often the first voice of truth. Amaruq did not come to end his life, but to turn it back, to drive him toward the warmth of the clan where his gift belonged.
One night, when the shaman could flee no more, he faced the wolf. Amaruq stood still, his breath rising into the cold like an offering. In that moment the shaman heard the call of his ancestors, steady as the drumbeat of the Earth. He understood then that the North had not abandoned him. It was guiding him home.
He followed the memory of the clan’s trail, and Amaruq walked behind him only until the first firelight appeared on the horizon. Then the wolf vanished into the great white silence, his task complete.
Since that time, our elders say:
When a wolf circles a wanderer, the land is calling him back.
Back to his people.
Back to his purpose.
Back to the order that keeps the world in balance.