Taima’s

Revenge

By

Nicholas Cowan

Taima’s Revenge

Steven sat straight up in bed, beads of sweat ran down his forehead. He
wiped his damp face, running his fingers through his thick, black hair. Ugh,
it’s completely soaked. He wasn’t going to let the nightmare ruin his day
again. Steven decided to move on and not give it a second thought, but he
couldn't help but think, Who or what could have done this to my people? The
horrific sights of the massacre were still fresh in his mind. Bodies were
everywhere he looked. With his heart still racing, Steven shook his head trying
to remove the images from his memory. Steven swung his feet over the edge
of the bed and planted them firmly on the ground. Sitting on his bed, Steven
peered out the window, still dark outside, he noted.
A soft voice broke through the silence. “Steven. Steven, have you roused
yet?” Mother called. “Father needs your help with the fields. Get ready, he’s
waiting for you outside.”
“Yes Mother,” he replied. Mother wasn’t her given name, of course, but
they had insisted he refer to her this way. Her real name was Marie Perrault,
but it was rarely spoken, even by his adopted father. Marie was a small
woman, physically speaking, but she had a big heart and worked non-stop to
make sure her husband and son had everything they needed. She had long,
flowing auburn hair that fell to the middle of her back. She seldom wore her
hair down, normally she kept it in a tight bun so it wouldn't interfere with her
chores
After hastily getting dressed Steven exited his room, wearing his usual
wool shirt and pants that fell slightly below his knees, and ran for the front
door. Quickly making his way through the kitchen, he stopped suddenly, as if
he forgot something. He turned toward the stove which stood against the far
wall. Tiptoeing across the room, the floor boards squeaked under the soles of
his shoes. The flickering flame of the lantern cast long animated shadows
throughout the kitchen. When he reached the cook stove he inhaled deeply,
taking in the smells of the cornmeal pudding that had been slowly cooking all
night.
“You had best get out there,” Mother said. “This will be done soon
enough, tell father that morning meal will be ready in two hours.”
A hint of a smile took shape on Steven's lips. He looked at Mother's light
brown eyes then leaned over to hug her. Once again he was reminded of their
differing background when he compared the contrast of his dark tan skin
against her pale complexion. Not wanting to make Father wait any more,
Steven turned and headed for the door.
☼
The Perrault’s home, a small cottage made of weathered wood, sat in the
middle of a large plot of land that contained many fields for crops as well as
the animals they kept. Breathing in the fresh air, Steven made his way across
the field. In the darkness of the early morning, the silhouette of a large man
could barely be seen at the edge of the nearest field. Henry was rigging the
horses to the plow while waiting for Steven to join him for the day’s work.
“Pleased you could join me,” Father said half joking without raising his head.
He was a disciplined and serious person with a dry sense of humor that not
many people understood. It was obvious from his muscular build and callused
hands that he had worked all of his life in the fields raising crops and
livestock.
“Please Father, let me help you with that,” Steven said, as he reached out
to finish securing the horses. “Mother says we only have two hours before our
meal is ready, she is just finishing it up.”
Father glanced toward the brightening eastern. “Well we should be
getting started then. We’ve already wasted enough time,” he said as he urged
the horses forward from behind the plow.
Steven, startled by the horses lunging forward, jumped out of the way
and moved swiftly to the horses’ side to help guide them through the field.
Moving the animals and equipment forward father ensured the plow was
properly turning the soil. While Steven was correcting the horses every so
often to keep them in a straight line, his attention started to drift away from the
task. He found himself wondering what it would be like to live among his own
people. He loved it here with his new parents, but he couldn’t help his
curiosity.
Over the next hour the plow made several passes across the field while
Steven daydreamed about what he thought a Native American community
would be like. His biological parents caring for him and the hunting trips he
would have surely been taking part in by this age. What did his birth mother
look like? And what did his father act like? Was his father a great warrior or
maybe even a chief?
“Steven!” Father yelled. Steven was so caught up in his fantasies that he
didn’t even notice the horses were pulling away from him. “Help, Steven!”
yelled his adopted father, his leg had become tangled in the plow and the
horses were starting to drag him through the field. Steven ran to catch up to
the spooked animals. He could feel the adrenaline surge through his veins as
his heart rate accelerated. Steven’s feet pounded the soil as he slowly gained
on his father being dragged through the field.
Upon reaching the plow Steven grasped the contraption with a firm grip
and slammed his heels into the dirt. The horses frantically strained as their
muscles urged them to move forward, but they had stopped moving all
together. Steven leaned back, his small frame flexing against the force of the
horses, pulling the plow and everything with it, back towards him. Slowly the
plow lifted off the ground as the horses hooves dug into the soil, then began to
slide backwards. Once his father was free, Henry quickly limped to the horses’
side trying to calm the frightened animals.
No longer feeling the pull of the horses Steven dropped the plow and ran
to check on Father. After lifting Father’s pant leg, Steven inspected the bruised
limb, thankful that it didn’t appear to be broken. This bad situation could have
turned out far worse. When Steven looked up and met his father’s gaze he
noticed there was a hint a fear in his eyes. The same fear that was always
hidden beneath the surface whenever he experienced Steven’s unnatural
strength first hand. Mother and Father were the only ones aware of Steven’s
special ability but this did not keep them from fearing its power.
“Thank you, though you really ought to be more mindful of your
surroundings Steven,” his father pointed out. “Someone could be seriously
injured if you aren’t focused on your task,” He continued.
“I’m sorry Father, I didn’t intend on letting my mind wander.”
“Never mind that, I’m fine. Why don’t we go have our morning meal
and we’ll finish this up later.” Putting his arm around Steven he began to
hobble back to their home.
☼
“My Lord!” Mother exclaimed. “What happened to you out there?” she
said, rushing to Henry’s side.
“It’s nothing,” Father said, downplaying the extent of his injury. “The
horses were startled and my leg became trapped in the field plow.”
Steven’s left arm was hanging loosely at his side as he held it at the
elbow with his other hand. He stared ashamed, at the ground, not wanting to
be subjected to any of the questioning.
After a moment of awkward silence Mother finally spoke up. “Well
don’t stand there all day. Sit down and start eating while I get the drinks.”
Steven sat at the table and waited for Mother to pour the cider. When
everyone was seated he slid the hoecakes aside opting to start with the
pudding first. “What were they like?” He said while drizzling some maple
syrup over his pudding.
“What was who like?” Mother replied.
“My parents. My birth parents I mean,” he said.
“Steven we’ve told you before, we don’t know much of your parents,”
Father said.
“I know, I just wanted to know more of my past beyond what you had
told me about the church appointing me to your care.” Steven was fidgeting in
his chair, glancing back and forth between his adopted parents. It was his
mother that finally responded.
“What we know is little. We know that your parents died when you were
only a baby. And after the church took you in for a short time they entrusted us
with your upbringing.” She nudged Father.
“Yes, yes. I believe it is time we told him. The only other information
that the church gave us was that they believe you came from a small tribe of,
your people, that live along the lake north of here.”
Steven leaned forward and began to fidget with his hands, now visibly
excited he pressed for more answers. “How far away is the lake? Do they
know what happened to my parents? And do they know why I am the way I
am?” he said, referring to his unnatural strength.
Henry looked to his wife and she nodded in return. Steven seeking out
his own people had been the topic of many of their discussions and they had
ultimately decided to let him go when the time was right. “I will make you a
deal, Steven,” Father said leaning forward in his seat. “If you’ll help me
complete our job in the fields today, we will allow you to go and visit with
your people if you choose.”
Steven held his breath and sat motionless at the table. When the
statement finally sunk in he responded. Unable to control the volume of his
voice. He nearly shouted, “How far.” “I apologize, I mean to say how far away
is it?” he said.
“About a day and a half if you travel by foot. I’m sorry but none of the
horses can be spared this time of year,” Father said.
“You mean you’re not going to come with me?” looking to his mother,
his heart began to ache.
“I’m afraid we can’t, there are much too many things to be done around
here this time of year and we mustn't neglect our chores,” Mother said, tears
welling up in her eyes.
“I can wait to leave until a better time,” he pleaded.
“There will not be a better time than now. The weather is perfect for
travel and you may not get the opportunity again,” Father stated, seeing that
Marie was no longer able to reply. She was quietly sobbing as she picked at
her food.
Steven took a sip of cider, holding the cup with both hands wrapped
around it. He pulled the cup away from his lips and stared down into it for a
minute before asking, “Do I have to decide right away?”
“No, but you shouldn’t waste time. We will finish our work for the day,
and by then you should have your answer. If you are to go, you will leave no
later than tomorrow morning. But, there is much work to be done before then.
Finish your meal and come outside when you’re ready.” Father pushed his
chair back from the table and drank down the remainder of his cider. As he
stood he leaned heavily on the chair then slowly made his way outside.
Steven sat, still staring into his cup secretly hoping that the answer
would be revealed to him in the swirling liquid. “You should go. Don’t worry
about us, we will keep up with the work until you return. You will return,
won’t you?” Mother was now standing over him with her hand on his
shoulder. Steven had been so lost in thought he had failed to notice that she got
up from the table. “Go help Father before he becomes impatient.”
☼
Steven was awaken from his brief slumber by the sound of creaking
floorboards. The air was humid and the smell of venison still wafted through
the house from last night’s meal. The sun had not come up yet. He heard the
metal hinges on the wooden door groan as it opened. “Steven, are you up?” his
mother whispered. “You really should finish gathering what you’ll need.”
“Yes Mother, I’ll be out in a moment.” Steven had been awake most of
the night, not because of his usual recurring nightmare, but because of the
increasing anxiety about his upcoming journey.
After getting dressed, Steven met his mother in the kitchen where she
had already laid out some extra clothing. Mother was about to wrap them in a
bundle along with food, mostly cornbread, and a deerskin flask presumably
filled with cider.
Father slowly entered the kitchen. Henry was still favoring his right side
when he walked. He too was gathering items for Steven to take with him on
his trip. Henry set a tinderbox on the table and opened it to face Steven. After
inspecting the tinderbox to verify there was sufficient flint and tinder within,
Steven closed the box.
Father presented Steven with a large knife. “I’m going to want this back,
so don’t go losing it,” Father reminded Steven. This was what Steven figured
to be Father’s way of saying “come back soon.”
Steven accepted the knife and tucked it securely in the belt around his
waist. “And remember what I told you boy, never drink standing water or
water that isn’t flowing quickly. Sickness will likely take hold if you do”
“Henry, leave the boy alone, he won’t be out in the forest but one night,”
Marie argued.
 “It's not just the wild I’m worried about. Promise me you will not allow
anyone to witness how strong you really are. You must protect your secret
above all else,” Henry said.
Steven nodded in response, remembering how frightened he and his
parents had been the first time they’d discovered he wasn’t like other people,
but that was many years ago. Once again Steven found himself questioning his
decision to leave.
Once all of his belongings were packed, he lifted his bundle of supplies
and headed in the direction of the front door followed by his parents.
Steven stood just outside the door facing his parents. His mother looked
on the verge of tears again and his father was as stone faced as ever. Gently,
Steven embraced his mother. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise,” he
whispered in her ear. Steven let go of Marie, who seemed reluctant to do the
same. Turning to his father, Steven noticed he already had his hand
outstretched to bid him farewell. Steven swiftly bypassed the emotionless
gesture and wrapped his arms around Henry.
Mother couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Henry stood there, petrified
with terror, his face resembled a wild animal that had just been unwillingly
thrust into a new environment. Finally Father began to come to his senses and
hugged Steven in a tight, bear-like hug. “Be safe my boy,” were his only
words. Steven turned and began to walk down the dirt path that lead away
from their house.
“I do hope he’ll be all right, and that he’ll have enough supplies,” Marie
said.
“Now that you’ve finished loading him up with supplies, he’s twice as
heavy. He’ll only be out there one night after all,” Henry said, turning to his
wife with a smirk on his face.
☼
Birds frantically chirped to each other, warning of Steven's presence as
he walked along the forest path. Sweat, caused by the afternoon sun high
overhead, forced Steven to consider stopping to remove his shirt. Ultimately
he decided against it to save time and cover more distance. While traveling
through areas such as this, where the trees were less dense, Steven found
himself torn by the thrill of new experiences and the regret of leaving his
parents behind. His mother would probably insist that he stop worrying and
enjoy as much as he could along the way, then list the educational value of
such a trek. Steven rolled his eyes as he mimicked her movements. Father on
the other hand would just scold him for daydreaming while he walked and not
paying attention to what he was doing. “There’s danger everywhere, Steven”
he said aloud to himself, mocking his father’s monotone voice.
Steven slowly opened his eyes to discover that his vision was blurred.
He found himself lying on his back on the forest floor, as the pain in his face
intensified. Bright light from the sun was breaking through the trees nearing
the western horizon. If Steven had been watching where he was going, like his
father would have insisted, he may not have walked right into the low hanging
branch. He couldn’t help but think that this must be God’s way of reminding
him that he shouldn’t joke at his parents’ expense. Sitting up, he brushed the
dirt from his clothing and felt around on his forehead. His fingers prodded the
tender spot where the branch had made contact. Steven pulled his hand away
to examine it for any sign of bleeding and was relieved to see that there were
just a few small spots of red that discolored his fingertips. His head began to
burn as the sweat seeped into the exposed wound.
After a few gulps of cider and verifying the direction he should be
heading in, Steven decided to continue on even though he still felt dizzy from
his encounter with the menacing tree. After gathering the belongings that had
spilled out onto the exposed soil, he set off going north once again. It didn’t
take long for Steven to realize that the handle of his father’s knife was no
longer jabbing him in the side. He panicked, turning quickly to search the
surrounding area. This only made the pain in his head intensify, but that was
the least of his concerns. “Father is going to kill me,” he shouted, sprinting
back to where he had fallen. Steven desperately brushed sticks and leaves
aside. Crawling on his hands and knees he heard the occasional snap of a
small twig he trampled. A glint of sunlight reflected from the ground a few
feet away and caught his attention. Steven rushed to the spot from where it had
originated and found the large knife laying there, partially unsheathed and
intact. Tucking it back in his belt, he breathed a sigh of relief and headed north
once again.
Finding a few boulders scattered amongst the trees, Steven decided this
would be as good a place as any to rest for the night. He scanned his
surroundings to verify that no one was within view, then proceeded to lift the
large boulders one by one, moving them closer together so that they made a
low wall to keep him safe from behind. In the fading light Steven set out to
gather various pieces of wood to keep a fire going throughout the night.
Paying extra attention to any branches that might be head height, Steven
wandered through the foliage searching for the best firewood. In the distance
he could hear the gurgling of a nearby stream and opted to head in that
direction.
Kneeling by the river he remembered what his father had told him about
slow moving water. While this stream seemed to be flowing at a steady pace
he chose not to chance it and just rinsed his hands in the cool water. Scooping
some of the refreshing liquid he splashed it in his face and washed up the best
he could. A snapping twig grabbed his attention. Steven scanned the tree-line
for anything that could have caused the noise. Not knowing where the sound
came from he immediately picked up his pile of gathered firewood and headed
back in the direction of his camp.
☼
An eerie howl pierced the silence waking Steven in the process. Finding
his surroundings shrouded in darkness his mind fought to understand what was
happening and what had woken him so suddenly. Steven soon realized that it
was the extinguished fire that made the area so dark. Startled by a rustling
sound coming from the woods, Steven fumbled around for the tinder box his
father had given him. As he blindly swept his hands across the ground, the
sound grew closer, indicating whatever was out there was closing in. His hand
bumped into something hard, the tinderbox. Opening the container he reached
inside and grabbed the flint, wildly striking it in rapid succession. Finally, a
stray spark took to the smaller of the partially charred tinder. As the fire grew
Steven’s heart nearly stopped when the face of a snarling wolf, with exposed
teeth, slowly took shape from directly across the fire.
Steven reached down to his side, sliding his knife slowly from its sheath
while keeping his eyes fixated on the predator staring back at him. He rose
from the crouching position he had taken while igniting the fire and lifted one
of the larger burning branches from the pile. Shaking, it took all of his will to
get his feet to move, but he slowly began to back up away from the wolf.
Sweeping the flaming branch from side to side he soon found himself backed
up against the boulders he had moved into position earlier. How could I be so
stupid?, he thought. I’ve cornered myself with no route to escape. Almost as if
the animal had read his thoughts, the wolf started to close in on him, keeping
low with slow, fluid movements.
Soon the wolf was close enough to attack, steam billowed out in front of
it’s snout in slow, deliberate breaths. Steven could smell the musky aroma that
followed the carnivore. Reflexively, Steven lunged forward stabbing with the
fiery log. A solid clunk followed by the blood curdling yelp, told Steven he hit
his mark. The animal turned and rushed off into the woods just as the smell of
singed fur and burnt flesh came to meet his nostrils. Steven threw the stick
back to the now raging fire and gathered his belongings. There was no
indication that this wolf was not part of a pack, but Steven wasn’t going to
stay around to find out.
☼
Replaying the evening’s events in his head, Steven questioned if leaving
the small amount of safety offered by the camp behind was such a good idea.
If I’d been attacked away from the fire, I may not have lived to regret it. At
least it was light out now and threats could be seen coming, hopefully. While
traveling through the now densely wooded forest, Steven couldn’t help but
feel as if something were watching him. A chill ran up his spine as he
imagined a pack of angry wolves at his heels. Drawing the dagger from his
side, he expected the worst.
Minutes turned to hours and nothing exceptional happened. Dismissing
the feeling as paranoia, Steven continued to enjoy the serenity of nature. He
paused for a moment and closed his eyes, tilting his head back he allowed the
tiny columns of sunlight breaking through the trees to warm his face. The
scent of the many surrounding hardwoods tickled his nose while he inhaled.
Steven stretched, arching his back and extending his arms as he marveled at
how wonderful and relaxing it felt. When he was satisfied with his short break
he returned to his adventure.
Holding his hand out as he walked, Steven allowed it to brush up against
the rough bark of the trees as he passed them. Feeling his finger tips rise and
fall with each crack and crevice. A rather large tree caught his attention as he
glided past it, his fingers felt deep, diagonal grooves etched into the tree trunk.
Turning to look at what he had just touched, Steven saw the unmistakable
signs that a bear was in the area. He curled his fingers inward as he gently ran
them through the grooves of the scared tree, imitating the bear. His fingers
were sticky with sap, indicating these must recent markings. Steven pressed
his forefinger and thumb together while inspecting the sap.
A low, pulsing, throaty growl sounded behind Steven, freezing him in
place out of instinct and fear. Cautiously he turned to face whatever had made
the sound. Three hundred pounds of large, black bear was staring right at
Steven from a clearing between the trees. It roared with such forced that
Steven felt it reverberate through his body. As it stood up on it’s hind legs it
reached a height of what seemed to be almost six feet. The black bear lowered
back down to all fours and shook it’s head causing its fur to ripple down the
length of its body. Roaring once more the massive bear burst into a charge
toward Steven. With all the strength he could manage, Steven ran back
towards the north, weaving in and out of the trees, attempting to confuse and
outmaneuver the threat.
Running out of breath, Steven stopped on the far side of the tree trying
to conceal his body behind it. He listened closely for any sign of his pursuer.
The only sound that could be heard was Steven’s long, ragged breaths as he
heaved large quantities of air in and out of his lungs. He leaned forward with
his lower back supported by the tree and rested with his hands on his knees.
Steven withdrew his knife just as he was hit by what felt like the weight
of a house broadsiding him. Now on his back on the ground, Steven’s hands
sunk wrist deep into fur as he lifted the bear up, off of his body. Snapping its
jaws, it lunged repeatedly trying to bite down on, and crush Steven’s skull.
There was something different about it’s face, but Steven couldn’t tell what.
Again it tried to bite him, but this time Steven realized its eye wasn’t closed,
as he originally thought, it was missing. Finding its efforts to be ineffective,
the bear thrashed wildly from side to side now changing its tactic to batting
and clawing at Steven. Fear gripped Steven like the pressure of a vice that
he’d never felt before. Planting his foot on the underside of his attacker,
Steven pushed up, flipping the bear over his head, then he rolled to the side
and sprang to his feet. The bear was quick to recover after sliding a short
distance through the leaves that covered the arid soil. With limited options, it
was clear that running was no longer one of them. My knife, where is my
knife? It was laying more than thirty feet away on the ground, having been
dislodged from his grip during the struggle. It was useless against a bear
anyway, but it provided Steven a certain amount of comfort, like having his
father there with him.
Now the bear and Steven started a deadly waltz, circling each other
while each aggressor sized the other up. Looking for the slightest moment of
weakness the bear studied the intruder. Steven mirrored the behavior, waiting
for the bear to make a mistake in its footing or to be briefly distracted. Only
feet away from his wayward blade now, Steven leapt and scooped it off the
ground grabbing a fistful of dirt in the process. Sensing the opportunity, the
bear ran in to engage its opponent. Steven switched the weapon to his left
hand and tossed the handful of sandy soil right into the bears face as it
approached. Unfazed by the feeble attempt to blind him, the bear jumped at
Steven seeking to pin him to the ground. What the bear hadn’t planned on was
his prey coming in to close the gap even faster than expected. Steven grasped
what he could of the bear’s throat with his right hand and plunged the blade
into its side simultaneously. An ear splitting crack could be heard when the
bear struck a nearby tree with such force that it split the trunk. Steven had not
only stopped the bear’s forward momentum but also pushed it backwards,
carrying the bear and smashing him into the tree.
Steven, now unsteady on his feet, began to feel light headed. Not
knowing what was going on, he had to make sure the bear wasn’t going to get
back up. He removed the knife from the bear’s side and brought a powerful
overhand strike down on the bear’s skull, shattering the bone and driving the
knife deep within. Steven turned away as the bear slumped to the ground. He
felt bad for killing the animal but he had no choice. Having lost all of his
remaining supplies in the chase, Steven had to locate his tribe as soon as
possible.
Steven continued north once more. Soon after his vision began to blur
and for the first time he was keenly aware of the pain emanating from his side.
On his side below his right arm, Steven’s shirt was torn and soaked in blood.
At some point during the fight, the bear must have made contact with Steven’s
side. There was a four inch gash wrapping from the back of his ribcage to just
above his hip. Steven collapsed, unable to stop the darkness from closing in
around him.
☼
Steven slowly opened his eyes and examined the area. He felt a bit
guilty that he assumed heaven would look, better. The walls were just wooden
poles with birch fastened to them. The floor of the small room, which he was
currently laying on, was mostly just bare ground.
The flap of animal skin at the far side of the room was pulled open as
beautiful short woman came in. She had dark hair, almost black, and her skin
tone was the same as Steven’s.
“Where am I? Am I dead? Are you an angel?” Steven asked
The stranger just looked at him for a moment like she was lost in
thought. She walked toward Steven with a smile on her face and said, “Aanii.”
“Great, I’m going to spend all eternity in heaven, where I don’t even
speak their language,” Steven spoke freely, assuming the woman had no idea
what he was saying.
“You have not passed on.” Came a soft shaky voice near the entrance.
A man stood in the doorway, holding the animal skin aside with an
intricately carved piece of wood, his silver hair illuminated from behind by the
afternoon sun. Steven hadn’t seen him come in but he must have been
listening to their conversation, if it could be called that that. “I am called
Ouray, I am an elder and the healer of this tribe. Many days we have looked
after you, healed you.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone else had come in. What did she say to
me?” Steven asked, looking toward to the younger woman now inspecting his
side.
“She spoke a greeting in our language, much like hello in your language
she has had no teachings in English,” Ouray replied.
Steven smiled to the woman who was now probing his side with her
fingers. Remembering the wound that had started all of this, Steven pulled
away from her anticipating the sharp pain that was sure to follow. After
bracing himself for a few moments he looked to his side, apprehensive of what
he might find. To his relief there was no blood, no gash, in fact there wasn’t
even much of a scar to be seen. “How long have I been here?” He said,
bewildered.
“A week’s time.”
“How have I healed so quickly?”
“There is much you need to learn of this world. We healed you, as I told
you earlier.” Ouray turned to the woman. They spoke quickly to each other,
apparently discussing something, in their language. Then she left the room
without saying another word to Steven, who was now waving at the young
woman. “Wait, don’t go yet. I haven’t even thanked you.”
Turning to face Steven, Ouray saw he was inspecting the light scar that
remained below his ribs, anticipating his next question he said, “She tells me
you have great health and can go out on your own when your strength
returns.”
Ouray seemed to be waiting for a response as he stood leaning on his
walking stick. Steven knew he should be far too weak to stand but he felt like
he had just woken up from a restful sleep after a long day of work. Slowly, he
sat up then pushed himself up into a standing position where he remained for a
few moments while he tried to gain control of his wobbly legs. Ouray was
already making his way through the entrance. Not wanting his pride to suffer
from being left behind by the old man, Steven walked quickly to catch up.
Nearly falling through the doorway, he emerged into what must have
been the outskirts of the village. Steven paused to take in the new scenery. The
dwelling he had just exited was positioned right at the edge of a massive lake,
he could hear the gentle crashing of the waves even before he turned around.
Looking deeper into the village he saw small wigwams, larger buildings called
long houses and at the far edges of his sight, a large church. The smell of fish
wafting through the air made him hungry. They must have been cooking it
somewhere near by.
“Wait up!” Steven shouted. “I have more questions for you, where are
you going?” Steven was out of breath as he chased the gray haired man. Soon
he found himself in what must have been the center of the village. Various
natives had stopped what they were doing and stared in awe at the new comer
in odd garments. They had seen many white men and were familiar with their
manner of dress, but never had they seen a native in a white man’s regalia.
Ignoring the awkwardness of the situation Steven continued looking
around. There was a large fire pit on one side and on the other, the most
unique item he’d ever seen. Captivated by its beauty Steven moved in for a
closer look. Drawn by some unexplainable mystic force, Steven couldn’t have
stopped himself even if he wanted to. Standing over the object that was
sticking out of the ground, Steven couldn’t figure it out. It’s surface looked
like wood, but was hard as stone and the rings of the wood were glowing with
a stunning blue shimmer that looked like water flowing through the crevices.
“True beauty, isn't it?”
Steven jumped, turning around to meet Ouray’s gaze. “I had more
questions for you, why did you leave?” he asked Ouray.
“Are you not glad that I did? I have questions for you as well. To start,
why have you come to seek us out.” Ouray now appeared as though he was
looking right through Steven, which made Steven uncomfortable like he had
done something wrong and his father was going to be angry with him.
“I left my home to the south to come in search of my people,” he said,
his voice cracking a bit causing him to clear his throat.
“You have come for more than this, do not keep hidden the truth from
me.”
“I want to know more of my past.”
Ouray stood in silence, staring at Steven. “Very well, if it is answers you
seek for questions of your past then I will guide you on a vision quest. Do you
see that long house over there?” Ouray said, pointing to a large wigwam to the
west. “Meet me there when the sun is on the western horizon today.” Ouray
turned and walked away.
After watching him go, Steven sat down next to the object unable to
look away from it.
☼
After spending much of the day exploring the village, the sun had finally
sank low enough in the sky for Steven to make his way back towards the long
house. His body was shaking with nervous energy. He didn’t know what to
expect once he arrived, but nothing was going to keep him from learning
where he had come from.
Steven stood outside the large building, contemplating if he should enter
or not. What if the elder was trying to lure him here for another reason? Steven
pushed those feelings aside, if the old man had wanted to kill him, he could
have just let the wound from the bear finish the job.
Steam rushed forward to meet Steven the moment he pulled back the
flap covering the entrance of the long house. Entering, he noticed it felt harder
to breath with all the moisture in the air and could smell a relaxing aroma of
something being burnt, wafting through the air. In the dim glow of the fire’s
light, the shadowy outline of the elder could be see against the wall to his
right.
Ouray was standing beside a table trying to ignite what looked like a
small bundle of herbs fastened together twine.
“Sage,” he said, not even bothering to lift his head.
“I’m sorry?” Steven replied.
“Do not be afraid, come in.” He motioned for Steven to come closer.
“What you smell is mostly sage, it is part of the smudge stick, a sort of incense
to ward off evil” Ouray clarified, holding up the assorted herb bundle.
Cautiously walking closer, Steven could see that there were many bowls
set out on the table. Some were already in use, containing the herbs that Ouray
was burning. “Can I ask what that thing is? The one in the middle of the
village.” Steven was now standing a few paces, or what he felt was a safe
distance, from Ouray.
“That item is a reminder of a time long passed. When we discovered
where it had been left it took two men to carry it back to where it now stays.”
A bit vague for an explanation, Steven thought, but he decided not to
press the issue.
“Be seated.” Ouray said. “I must warn you before we begin, I can't
control your visions. You will only be made to know what you must.” Ouray
was now standing over Steven as he mashed a new concoction of herbs into
one of the bowls. While the old man was grinding the herbs into a paste,
Steven’s mind drifted, what did he mean by vision, and why can’t he control
them?
“Aaniish naa ezhiyaayin?” Ouray asked, interrupting Steven’s thoughts.
“What?” Though Steven didn’t understand the native language, it was
somehow calming to him.
“It means How are you?” Ouray said. Not intending to wait for a reply,
Ouray handed Steven one of the bowls from the table while he held another.
Ouray could tell that Steven was nervous so he proceeded without further
delay. He reached into a pouch at his side and withdrew some tobacco, which
he spread over the ground. “Place some in your mouth,” Ouray said,
motioning to the bowl in Steven’s hand.
Steven still wasn’t sure what was going on and certainly didn’t want to
put anything in his mouth when he didn’t even know what it was.
Steven leaned away from Ouray, surprised by the damp paste he was
rubbing on his skin.
“You must place it in your mouth now,” Ouray said, rather forcefully.
 Not wanting to offend the crazy man, Steven obeyed and scooped a
generous portion of the paste out of the bowl he held. He looked at it for a
moment and decided it’d be best not to taste it first and shoved the fist full of
pulverized herbs into his mouth.
A smile crept across Ouray’s face followed by a small chuckle, as he
watched Steven's face contort with disgust from the pungent taste of the herbs.
Steven spit most of awful tasting stuff out. “You find it funny to feed me
such a horrid tasting thing?” Steven said now feeling visibly betrayed.
“Do not keep the anger in your heart. You must relax and concentrate
your spirit on the questions you seek.” Ouray advised.
Fearing the consequences of harboring angry feelings while in a vision
state, Steven quickly tried to change his attitude and focused on his reason for
coming here in the first place. Steven began to feel ill. His head was
swimming and the room was tilting from side to side. Steven’s vision blurred
and darkness fogged the edges of his vision. Ouray watched as Steven fell
backwards, unconscious.
☼
When Steven woke up he didn’t know how long he had blacked out for.
Judging by his surrounding, it had been quite a while. His eyesight was
different but in a way he couldn’t understand or explain. No longer was he
inside the sweat lodge where he was supposedly going to have a vision quest.
He was now sitting up against a tree, with the sun on his face, looking out
towards an open valley full of long, golden grass. He continued to carve the
large ornate club he had been working on. Club? Wait, how did I… what is
this? Why won’t my body move? He was no longer in control of his body. This
experience was strange, like watching the world through someone else’s eyes.
Am I dreaming? Slowly the realization came to him. If he wasn’t dreaming
and he couldn’t control his body then he really must be a witness to someone
else’s experiences, but who? Whoever it was, Steven could sense happiness
wash over him like the warmth of a fire on a cold night. He felt perfectly
content passing his day sitting by this tree.
“Taima.” a voice called in the distance. Steven’s head swiveled to the
left, moving on its own without his will. A group of men were coming across
the open field. Adjusting to the feeling of this situation was disorienting at
best. “Taima, it’s time for the hunt. We’ve been looking for you,” the apparent
leader of the group said.
“Yes brother, I am nearly finished here,” Steven heard himself reply,
though he wasn’t trying to speak. Taima. The name echoed in his head. They
must be referring to me. Nice to meet you Taima.
Taima set the club down and stood up, it was now obvious that Taima
was much taller than his fellow natives. Taking his bow and quiver, he set off
to catch up with his brother and the others. Taima was unaware of Steven’s
presence. Steven was watching the world through Taima’s eyes, feeling his
emotions and living his experiences.
 Lanu, Taima, and the others were approaching their destination and their
senses were sharp. Lanu searched for his prey while he and the others began to
fan out. Each member of the hunting party took their positions and set out into
the forest in hopes of securing the evening meal.
Taima hated to hunt but knew it was a necessity. He halfheartedly
wandered through the forest not wanting to be the first to find a suitable meal.
Then, like the great spirit mocking him, Taima saw the outline of a deer take
shape in the distance as he came through the trees. The deer didn’t even sense
the danger coming its way and continued to nibble at the grass it was eating.
None of the other members of the hunting party could be seen as Taima
looked around. Maybe the others don’t know the deer was here. Maybe I can
just continue on and they can kill whatever they find for the evening meal,
Taima thought. He struggled with the idea many times of whether he should be
getting the dinner that stood in front of him, or wait for the others to signal
that they had gotten a kill so he wouldn’t have to.
Waiting was getting him nowhere, Taima had to act, he had to kill the
deer no matter how much it bothered him. Taima held his bow out in front of
him in a horizontal posture as he withdrew an arrow from the quiver and
rested it on the wood of the bow. Inserting the string into the nock of the
arrow, he grasped the string firmly and drew it backwards as he raised the bow
into an upright, vertical position. Taima strained, his arms shaking as the bow
pulled, wanting to return to it’s resting position.
Taima held the bow steady as long as he could, he just couldn’t do it.
How could he possibly take an animal’s life? He had avoided it until now by
just allowing everyone to believe he was a terrible hunter, and he was okay
with that.
The strain of holding the string back had finally taken it’s toll. Taima
gasped as the string slipped through his fingers. He quickly swept his arm
down and to the side as the arrow loosened and hit the base of the tree near the
deer’s head. Taima breathed a sigh of relief and the frightened deer took off at
a run just as another arrow pierced it’s side. Taima traced the path from where
the arrow had come. He saw Lanu running between the trees trying to catch up
to the deer.
Lanu turned to Taima and yelled out to him. “Hurry before the deer gets
away, we need to follow it!”
Just as Taima jolted into motion he felt like the whole world shifted
below his feet and he suddenly became dizzy. Bracing himself on a tree the
feeling soon passed.
☼
Steven rolled over onto his side on the sweat lodge floor, still feeling a
little nauseous, he wasn’t sure if the feeling was caused by the paste he had
eaten or the hallucination he had just experienced. It was just a hallucination
wasn’t it? His body was still mostly unresponsive, but Ouray helped him up
into a sitting position.
 “Thank you,” Steven whispered through parched lips.
“Take this with you,” Ouray said, handing Steven a container with some
water in it. “It’s safe to drink, take that with you and I will help you back to
where you can rest and get some sleep.” He helped Steven off the floor of the
lodge and offered him his walking stick which Steven accepted out of fear that
he might fall over if his legs had to support all of his weight. Together they
both shuffled towards the door.
The evening sky was dark, but a fire could still be seen burning in the
heart of the village. Steven stopped just outside the door and gazed up into the
endless skies above. The stars were bright and numerous, but were nothing
compared to the light given off by the full moon overhead. Leaning heavily on
the walking stick, Steven followed in the direction that Ouray had set off in.
“Is there any fish from the evening meal left?” he asked from behind, still able
to smell the fish that was cooked on the fire.
“Yes, but you must listen to what your body is telling you. It would not
be wise to eat if you wish to continue with the visions.”
It was true, Steven was hungry but he didn’t think he could keep any
food down. Catching up to Ouray his curiosity continued. “Can I ask you
about the vision?”
“I warned they can't be controlled, you see what you must.” Ouray
slowed his pace seeing that Steven was having difficulty keeping up.
“That’s not what I meant. What I saw doesn’t mean anything.”
“Failure to see the wisdom in a lesson only proves your own lack of
wisdom, not a lack of wisdom contained in the lesson,” Ouray replied.
Shocked, Steven decided he shouldn’t push the matter any further.
Steven was relieved when they finally came to a stop outside of a wigwam. It
was actually the same small dwelling he originally woke up in earlier that day.
Holding the animal skin back, Ouray waited for Steven to enter.
“You may stay here, its previous owner recently left.”
“Did they leave on a trip?” Steven asked
“You could say that. They are not expected to return. Get some sleep and
we will continue when you wake in the morning. After you complete your
vision quest I will answer any remaining questions, including those of your
parents.”
“You know my parents?”
“Knew” Ouray corrected. “But that will come later, for now just get
some rest and think about what you have seen so far.” Ouray exited the room,
abruptly putting the conversation to an end.
Steven lay down staring up at the bent saplings that formed the roof.
What had Ouray meant that he knew his parents. Was he talking about the
Perraults or did he know his birth parents? Steven had suspected that he was
among his people from the time he arrived here but he wasn’t certain until
now. Steven’s mind swirled as he lay on the hard ground, he wanted to ask so
many questions but couldn’t help surrendering to the sleep that now
overwhelmed him.
☼
Early the next morning Steven decided it was time to head back to the
lodge. He had already been up for a few hours after having his sleep disturbed
by the same recurring nightmare he always had. It was always the same.
Someone had killed an entire village of natives and Steven was the only one
left standing, alone, among all the massacred bodies. Again, Steven just
couldn’t understand who could have done this to so many people. He asked
that question every morning, and every morning it went unanswered.
Steven left the wigwam, but instead of going directly to the sweat lodge
he circled around the back side of his new home and sat down by the water.
He watched the birds on the shore and listened to the waves softly washing up
on the beach. Off in the distance he could see natives dragging nets back into a
boat. He had never fished before but it looked like fun. now that he thought
about it, he had never really done much more than farm. This new place with
all of its new sights, sounds and smells was so beautiful. He could easily live
out the rest of his days here. That wasn’t possible though because he had
promised his parents that he would return home when he could. Perhaps he
could get them to come live here as well. Would the natives allow that?
“Aanii,” came a sweet voice, pulling Steven back to reality.
A beautiful young girl came from behind Steven and sat down next to
him. He recognized her as the same girl that was looking after him when he
met Ouray for the first time.
“Aanii,” he replied, remembering the greeting. Steven felt his face turn
red, he had never seen such a beautiful woman before. Her flowing black hair
fell to her shoulders and she wore an intricately beaded dress made of deer
skin. Steven really wished he knew his native language now, but this greeting
was the extent of his knowledge.
“Aiyana,” she said placing her hand on her chest. She repeated the
gesture and again said “Aiyana.”
Confused, Steven pointed to his chest and repeated after her, “Aiyana.”
Thinking she was trying to teach him some of the native language and that this
referred to a specific body part.
She smiled, giggled then turned away briefly. She must think I’m
ignorant, he thought.
She shook her head back and forth, then took Stevens hand and put it
just below her collarbone and repeated the same word “Aiyana.”
Steven finally understood, though he now felt like he could pass out at
any moment. He could handle wrestling a bear and live to tell about it but a
single touch from a beautiful woman might be what finally kills him.
“Aiyana ndizhinikaaz,” Aiyana said pointing to herself. “Wegnesh
Ezhinikaazyin?” She asked motioning to Steven.
“Steven,” he said plainly. “Ni-dish-na-cause.”
Aiyana smiled, watching Steven struggle with her language was
adorable.
“I have to go now” he spoke slowly, feeling stupid for assuming this
would help her understand. She was clearly confused so he pointed to himself
then pointed back towards the village. He desperately wanted to see her again,
but struggled to communicate this desire. Steven pointed to himself and said
“Steven.” Then pointing to Aiyana with his other hand he said “and Aiyana,
meet here.” Putting both hands together and pointing at the ground. “When the
sun is on the horizon,” he said pointing to the sky then sweeping his hand
down and to the west.
She nodded and said, “giizis.” Pointing to the sun. She then mimicked
his motion and pointed to the horizon. She seemed to understand, but Steven
couldn’t know for sure.
Regretfully, he waved to her then ran off in the direction of the sweat
lodge. Steven wished he could stay here with Aiyana, but he was determined
not to let anything stand in his way or keep him from completing the goal he
came here for.
Nearing his destination, Steven came around the outside of one of the
larger buildings and bumped into a large, Native American man that was
coming in the opposite direction. Steven held both hands out in front of
himself and pleaded with the massive gentleman, “I am so sorry, I didn’t see
you there.” The large, tan skinned man backed away, staring down at the
ground, avoiding eye contact with Steven.
Dumbfounded, Steven completed the short walk to the lodge. He
checked back over his shoulder before entering. Looking for the man he
bumped into, he wondered why he’d acted so strangely.
“You’re late.” The sudden noise startled Steven. Ouray was standing at
the entrance, with no expression on his face. Checking behind himself once
more Steven went forward to greet Ouray but he was no longer in the
doorway. Instead when Steven entered he saw Ouray was already on the other
side of room finishing the preparations. How could this old man move so
swiftly and quietly, Steven thought. And how did he even know I was here.
“Let’s get started,” Ouray said. “You don’t want to be late for your
meeting do you?”
Is he talking about Aiyana? There’s no way he could know, he must be
talking about the vision.
Steven sat on the floor and inhaled the relaxing smells of the smudge
sticks that were already burning.
Ouray wasted no time smearing the paste onto Steven’s skin as he
pushed another bowl towards him.
This was the moment Steven wanted to skip, he remembered the horrid
taste of the mixture from last time and his stomach already wanted to be empty
of its contents even though he hadn’t eaten anything. Ouray’s demanding glare
helped Steven make up his mind. Steven, looking like a child that had just
been scolded, picked up the bowl and put some of the paste into his mouth.
Cringing, he pushed it to the roof of his mouth with his tongue and lay back,
knowing what was next to come.
☼
Steven opened his eyes, still light headed and slightly nauseous. The
forest looked just as it did the day before. But now Taima and his brother Lanu
were standing over the deer Lanu had killed.
“You have to be able to feed your family, Taima. You can’t always let
the animals get away.” Lanu must have noticed Taima’s intentional miss
earlier and was now lecturing him on the importance of hunting. Lanu knew
Taima better than anyone else and was not surprised by this sort of behavior.
They were only a year apart and Taima always looked up to his older brother.
Lanu had discovered his brother’s aversion to killing early in life, but had
always kept his secret. Though Taima hated to kill he excelled at his training
as a warrior, rapidly becoming one of the best in the tribe due to his skill and
large size. Taima enjoyed sparing because he saw it more as a game than war.
Regardless of why Taima liked it, Lanu beamed with pride during such events
where his brother fit in with the other men of the tribe.
Lanu could see the other hunters just coming into view, approaching
from behind Taima. He grabbed Taima by the arm and nearly shouted, “Great
job finding our meal.” Lanu knew the others wouldn’t believe Taima had
killed it but insisted that his brother be part of the kill.
After thanking the Great Spirit and securing the deer, Lanu’s hunting
party began making its way back to the village. Lanu was leading the party,
with Taima in the back and the remainder of the party between them carrying
the deer. Taima ran past the others to catch up with Lanu. Coming alongside
his brother, Taima kept his voice low to avoid anyone overhearing their
conversation. “Thank you for covering for me, I didn’t think anyone else was
nearby,” Taima said. “Are we leaving the forest the way we came? I don’t
want to leave my clubs behind.”
“We will go by that way,” Lanu said, knowing how much effort and time
Taima had put into each of his clubs, he valued them above all else. “You
know, some day you will have to push your feelings of killing aside. You may
have your own son some day and how will he learn to hunt if you do not teach
him?”
Taima knew his brother wasn’t upset with him but that didn’t keep him
from feeling guilty.
Lanu quit walking and held his hand up for the rest of them to stop
moving as well. He pointed to the sky, which was now visible through the
trees. Taima tilted his head and immediately saw what had caused Lanu’s face
to fill with concern. Thick black smoke darkened the sky and deep down
Taima knew it wasn’t just a forest fire. The other members of the hunting party
dropped the deer sensing the tension. Lanu was the first to take off running
through the woods towards the village, leaving the others to follow in pursuit,
trying to catch up.
 ☼
The group was now at the edge of the forest. Having taken a shorter
route back, they were much closer to the village. Taima gasped at the sight,
natives from a neighboring tribe were everywhere. Most of the structures in
the village had been set on fire as women and children ran screaming in panic.
The men of Taima’s tribe were obviously caught off guard because the battle
was disorganized and spread all throughout the village.
Directly in front of them, nearly fifty yards out, an enemy warrior was
standing over his victim about to deliver a fatal strike with his spear. As he
raised the spear above his head the twang of a bowstring could be heard. An
arrow soared through the air and struck the warrior in the forearm just above
the elbow causing him to drop the spear harmlessly to the side of his enemy.
Lanu and the rest of the hunting party turned to see Taima holding his bow out
in front of himself. They all stared in awe, but there was no time for questions
now. Lanu screamed as he and the others charged into battle.
The warrior Taima had shot was still hunched over and writhing in pain
from the arrow embedded in his arm. As Lanu neared him, he scooped up the
discarded spear and impaled the warrior through the chest with a swift,
upward thrust. Throwing the warrior’s limp body to the ground he jerked the
spear free, removing it from his chest.
Taima kept by his brother’s side the whole time but couldn’t stop his
stomach from turning at the sight of his brother killing another man. Taima
had only intended to injure him so he would lose his will to fight. Once the
spear was free of the body, Lanu handed it to his brother.
“Take this and help where you can, save our people!” Lanu shouted over
the commotion.
Accepting the weapon, Taima ran off in the direction of the village
center. Stepping over the bodies lying on the ground Taima struggled to fill his
lungs with fresh air. To his right Taima noticed an enemy, holding a knife
ready to attack, creeping up on one of Taima's people. Taima darted over and
screamed, “Watch out!” the enemy and his prey turned just as Taima drove the
dull end of the spear into the side of the attacker’s knee. An audible crack
could be heard as the man fell to the ground. Quickly, Taima turned so he
didn’t have to see what happened next, surly his fellow tribal member was
going to kill the incapacitated attacker, just as his brother had.
Entering the center of the village Taima felt an arm tighten around his
throat causing him to drop the spear he was holding. He heard what sounded
like a knife being unsheathed and out of reflex, grabbed his right fist with his
left hand and swung his right elbow back with all his might. The pressure on
his throat loosened while his assailant gasped for air. Taima grabbed the
exposed wrist of his enemy and peeled it away from his body as he dropped to
the ground and spun on his heels. Now facing the attacker, Taima could see the
man before him was covered in war paint and blood. His face was smeared in
black with bands of red paint that ran across his eyes. Taima recognized him
as the fierce warrior named Akando, meaning ambush. Having heard many
stories of his brutality in battle, Taima knew he had to be cautious of every
movement.
Side stepping Taima’s attempt to sweep his legs out from under him,
Akando slashed down, aiming for Taima’s exposed neck. The knife made
contact but Taima had moved just enough to avoid his throat being slashed.
Taima backed away holding the superficial wound that now streaked across
his chest.
Taima stood, fueled by rage he lunged forward, swinging madly at the
warrior who’d tried to kill him. The two exchanged blows for a short time
before Taima finally got his opportunity. He saw his opening, as Akando
punched for his face, Taima dodged to the outside of his arm then grabbed his
head with both hands. Pulling down on Akando’s head, Taima lifted his knee
to meet the young man’s face. Blood streamed from his nose as Akando fell
backwards to the ground. Taima picked up the knife that had fallen to the
ground in the struggle and straddled his enemy. Holding the weapon high
above his head Taima paused. Even though this person had tried to kill him, he
just couldn’t bring himself to end the man’s life. Taima threw the knife to the
side and instead checked that the unconscious warrior was still breathing.
Taima crossed the center of the village. Lanu should have been here by
now. This is where they were supposed to meet after clearing paths through
the village. Suddenly he felt dizzy again, what was happening to him lately?
☼
Steven was once again lying on his back staring up at the ceiling of the
sweat lodge. “No! Not now. Taima’s village is in trouble, I have to be sure
everything is all right,” Steven said. Sitting up the room was still spinning but
he didn’t care, he had to get back in time. Steven picked up the bowl of paste
he’d set down earlier.
Ouray was standing near by and almost tripped over himself trying to
get to Steven in time.
“Steven, don’t!” Ouray yelled reaching for the bowl.
But he was too late, Steven had already put the remaining contents in his
mouth and was lying back, slipping rapidly away once again.
☼
“Taima!” came a voice from behind.
Taima instantly recognized the voice and turned to face his brother. “You
made it. Thank the Great Spirit, I was so worried you had fallen to the enemy.”
Taima said.
“I nearly had, I was surrounded at one point.” Lanu replied.
Taima ran towards his brother, wanting nothing more than to embrace
him, thankful to still be alive. Only a few paces away, Taima stopped. The
cheerful expression on Lanu’s face drained away. A spear had pierced through
Lanu’s chest and was now occupying the gap between the two brothers. As
Lanu’s body went limp, Taima saw Akando standing behind him holding the
other end of the spear. Wearing a devious grin on his face, Akando released
the spear, watching Lanu slump to the ground. Then Akando turned and ran
away through the village.
Taima couldn’t speak. He didn’t remember moving but he was kneeling
at his brother’s side, cradling his head. Memories he shared with his brother
flashed through his mind, the two of them playing together when they were
younger. Lanu’s unconditional love and protection was torn from Taima as his
brother took his last breath. Gazing into Lanu’s lifeless eyes Taima collapsed
onto the ground next to him. Everything had been taken from him. Taima
welcomed the darkness filling his vision.
☼
Steven woke to Ouray shaking him and forcing him to expel the paste
from his mouth.
“Never do that again.” Ouray breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Great
Spirit you were able to return to your body. You do not know the danger you
have caused yourself. Entering a vision again so soon can cause your spirits to
permanently intertwine, binding it with the host’s, forever trapping you in their
body.
Tears were streaming down Steven’s face, the passion of Taima’s feeling
still lingered. Steven’s heart ached for the loss he felt, he found it difficult to
breathe while uncontrollably sobbing. Overwhelmed by nausea Steven heaved
as his stomach tried to empty itself. Acid was all that came up, burning his
throat, and causing him to cough.
“Drink slowly,” Ouray said lifting Steven to support him while he
handed him some water.
Steven took a few small sips of water, his head still aching from all the
emotions swirling through his mind. His eyes were bloodshot red from the
tears that were flowing freely. “I still don’t understand why I have to see this.
What does this have to do with my birth parents?” he said between staggered
breaths.
“More clarity will come with time, there is still much you need to know
before you can understand.” There was a tenderness to Ouray’s voice, he knew
how hard this must be for Steven to experience. “For now you should go back
and get some sleep, we can continue tomorrow if you choose.” Ouray could
see the resolve in Steven’s eyes as he helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry I can't
tell you more at this moment, you must understand this part of your journey
before you can fully understand the answers to your own questions. When the
time is right I will tell you all that you need to know.”
Steven nodded and made his way out of the sweat lodge, leaving Ouray
standing in the center picking up the bowls that were scattered on the ground.
Steven leaned against the doorway, his shaking legs refusing to cooperate.
Steven wondered if he would have gone through with all of this if he had
known how hard it would be. Had he stayed with the Perraults he would have
likely just taken over the farm when he got older.
 Outside the night air was cool and refreshing on Steven’s skin. The sun
had gone down not more than an hour ago. The moon was directly overhead
and was bathing the village in a majestic glow. “Aiyana!” Steven said out loud
as he pushed off the outside of the long house. Remembering their meeting,
Steven walked as quickly as he could to the lake shore. Does Aiyana think I
forgot or didn’t want to show up? Did she even show up? Sleep could wait,
Steven had to find out if Aiyana had been there at all.
Steven walked out onto the beach, looking in every direction for Aiyana.
The only movement he saw was the moon’s reflection on the water as the
waves lazily rolled to the shore. Today just seemed miserable and plagued
with disappointment. Steven sat on the beach with his head in his hands. After
such a terrible day why couldn’t this one thing have worked out.
A hand gently touched Stevens shoulder, looking up he saw the outline
of Ayiana’s silhouette. She seemed to glow in the moon light and Steven’s
heart began to race.
Earlier Aiyana had given up on waiting at the shore and instead went to
see if Steven was in his wigwam. When she didn’t find him there, she returned
to him already sitting in the sand. She could see that his eyes were red and his
face was wet. She sat down next to Steven and turned to him smiling, while
placing her hand on his knee. Trying to soothe whatever pain he was in she
said, “Aanii Steven.” Her voice was soft and comforting.
Not wanting to try and force any words out, Steven chose not to talk,
fearing that his voice may crack. Instead he just smiled and Aiyana and put his
hand over hers.
Aiyana shuffled a bit closer and put her head on Steven’s shoulder.
Steven braced himself, waiting for his heart to explode. When he finally
concluded that he was going to live after all a calm came over him. He’d never
felt so at peace before as he did sitting here with Aiyana. Everything else
could wait, this is where he wanted to spend eternity. Though he struggled to
fight it, exhaustion soon took over and he slowly faded into a blissful sleep.
☼
Hours later the moon was no longer visible in the night sky, but there
was still time before sunrise. Aiyana sat on the beach with Steven’s head in
her lap. She had moved him when he fell asleep nearly toppling over
backwards into the sand. Aiyana ran her fingers through his hair patiently
waiting for the gentle motion to wake him.
“Steven,” she whispered.
Steven’s eyelids moved slightly as she continued to stroke his hair.
“Steven.” Aiyana helped move Steven into a sitting position. She could
tell he was confused by his surroundings.
Steven was refreshed and leaned in closer to hug Aiyana. Thankfully she
leaned towards him and didn’t seem repulsed or shy away. “I’m sorry I fell
asleep,” Steven said smiling. “Thank you for staying with me.”
Aiyana smiled in return, but she had to go. Her training couldn’t be put
on hold if she was going to take it seriously. Aiyana stood up and brushed the
sand from her backside. She glanced at Steven and pointed to herself then off
towards the village, letting him know that she had to go. She waited for Steven
to stand so he could walk with her.
Steven stood up and started to walk towards his wigwam. Ouray
wouldn’t be back at the lodge for a few hours and Steven felt sleep was the
best alternative if he couldn’t sit by the lake with Aiyana. As he walked, he
noticed that Aiyana was walking beside him. At least he would get a few extra
moments with her before they had to part ways.
Steven waved to Aiyana, trying to force himself to smile so she wouldn't
know how much sadness her departure brought on. He turned to enter his
home and felt Aiyana grab him by the arm. Steven stopped and turned to face
her. Here it comes she’s going to tell me she never wants to see me again.
Aiyana stepped forward and embraced Steven in a hug, she kissed him
on the cheek and then ran off, blushing.
Steven hadn’t even lifted his arms to hug her back, instead he stood with
his arms slack at his sides, shocked and watching her disappear toward the
village. He waited there, unmoving, for what seemed like an hour, gazing into
the dark with a goofy smile on his face before coming to his senses and
heading inside his home.
The hours passed and despite his best efforts, Steven could not go back
to sleep. Instead he just thought about Aiyana. Would his parents like her?
Was she willing to go visit him? Would she want to live there, at the farm, or
would she want to come back and live in the village? Of course they would
like her, she was the sweetest girl Steven had ever met, and the most beautiful.
Well, she was one of the only girls Steven’s age that he’d ever met.
The sun peeked through the edges of the doorway illuminating the dust
floating in the air like shafts of light from heaven. Steven had waited long
enough and decided to go back down to the lake once more before heading to
meet Ouray. Leaving his new home he turned left and circled around the
house, heading towards the shore. Once there he went to the water’s edge and
splashed some cool water in his face, rubbing vigorously for a few moments.
Approaching the sweat lodge, Steven didn’t stop and stand outside this
time. He was anxious to continue his journey and walked right into the
building, nearly running Aiyana over. “Aiyana?” Steven had no idea this is
where she was going to. What is she doing here with Ouray?
Aiyana walked by Steven, brushing her hand up against his arm as she
passed.
Steven smiled and watched Aiyana leave before turning back to Ouray.
“What was Aiyana doing here, was she delivering herbs or helping to set
up?” Steven asked.
“Aiyana is a student of mine. She started six years ago when she first
showed interest in learning the healing magics. Since then, I meet with her a
few times a week, though we normally do not use the lodge for her training.
And in addition to her lessons with me, she also helps with any of the tribe
that becomes sick or wounded. She is near the end of her training, and is an
exceptionally talented healer. You should be honored that she has taken an
interest in you. Even without knowing your background or who you are.”
“So she asked you to become a healer? And how did you know she had
an interest in me?”
Ouray smiled, “She did not ask so much as she was chosen,” Ouray said.
“There is much I know which you have not yet told me.”
“I … We were just enjoying each other’s company on the shore,” Steven
said softly.
Ouray, not wanting to listen to Steven’s incoherent babbling any more
just held his hand up. “Let’s get started.”
Steven sat and began going through the routine that he knew well. Soon
he was slipping into the familiar fog.
☼
"Tribes on both sides of this war suffered a great many losses. Our chief
lay dying and his eldest son dead at the hands of the same bloodthirsty warrior,
Akando. With few remaining warriors, the choices we face are limited. Our
rivals will likely return to finish us off if we do not surrender. The enemy
though, was not without their own loses. We defeated their chief and many
men during the battle, but they still out number us greatly. There must be talk
of peace if we are going to survive..."
Taima only appeared to be listening. As the next eldest and only
remaining son of the chief, the elder had already explained that the peace talks
were a task that would fall to him. This speech was just a show for the people
of the tribe, attempting to make the peace talks seem like their idea. After
spending the last few days at his father's side having to explain how Lanu had
died, Taima was in no mood for peace talks.
"... and so Taima will go on behalf of our tribe to put an end to this war."
An uneasy feeling washed over Taima, he could sense that everyone was
looking at him. He glanced back at the crowd where many of the people were
pointing and whispering to each other. Taima didn’t feel much like being put
on display for the benefit of his tribe right now. He turned and left, leaving
behind the stares and murmurs of the group. Walking east out of the village he
entered the vast expanse of the open fields surrounding the village. Defeated
and angry, Taima lay in the tall grass, completely hidden from the outside
world. He considered how long it might take to pass on if he just lie here and
never got up. Taima closed his eyes and let the movement of the grass relax
him as it swayed in the wind.
A quiet, chilling voice cut through the silence, “Are peace talks not what
you would choose as your response?”
What appeared to be a middle aged man stood over Taima waiting for a
response. “Does it really matter what I would choose? The elders have made
up their minds and chosen for the tribe as well. They will not stop until the
people of this tribe believe as they do.” Taima said.
“What if it only mattered what you wanted? What if their ideas were not
the only way?” The man shifted to the side, he was cloaked in a robe of animal
skin and wore the head of a wolf, obscuring his face in shadow.
Taima closed his eyes briefly and exhaled sharply. “I do not understand.
I can't choose for everyone. How would I have them follow me into battle if
they are not willing to fight?”
“When the moon is high above, meet me here and I will make your
options clear.”
“But I still don’t understand what you mean.” Taima rolled over and got
to his feet but the man was already gone, there was nothing but grass for as far
as Taima could see. That settled it, there was no way Taima was going to walk
into a trap in the middle of the night. He would have to just do as the elders
wanted and attempt to bring peace between the warring tribes.
Taima returned to the village, weaving his way through the tepees. He
found what he was looking for, one tepee near the center of the village with
white smoke rising through the top. Taima entered the tepee, his father lay in
the middle of the floor on a bed of grass. Others were moving around the room
tending to the needs of the chief. Kneeling down by his father’s side, Taima
could tell that he was just barely clinging to life. “Can we be alone for a while
please?” Taima asked with his hand on his father’s shoulder.
One by one the others left the enclosure. Taima watched until the last
one exited then turned to his father. “I do not know what I must do next, I need
your guidance. I have already lost Lanu and I don't want to lose you as well. I
am not prepared to lead this tribe and the elders are pushing for peace talks,
but I do not think this is the best path to choose.” After a short pause his
father’s lips parted and a faint whisper emanated from his mouth. Taima
leaned in closer to make out the words.
“Follow the advice of the elders.” He said.
“But I don’t understand, I do not want our tribe to be subject to the will
of another. What if the enemy refuses to give into peace unless they can take
over completely?” Taima asked, waiting for his father to respond. This time
there was no response, just the sound of the wind against the animal skin
stretched tightly around the outside of the tepee. “Father?” there was a hint of
panic in his voice now. “Father? No! I still don’t know what to do.” Taima laid
his head on his father’s arm as a tear ran down his face.
☼
In those moments while Taima was sitting with his father, he made up
his mind, he was going to meet this mysterious man and hear his plan to
destroy the enemy. With or without the support of the elders I will put an end
to all of this. Taima rose to his feet with a look of determination in his eyes.
His face was void of all expression. The time for mourning had passed and
now he was going to do something about it. Throwing the flap to the tepee
open, Taima stormed out into the village. The sky was red with the setting sun.
Tilting his head back, Taima could see the moon was nearing the middle of the
sky overhead. Passing between the many structures of the village he ignored
everyone he passed, unsure if they had even attempted to capture his attention.
Most of the short trip to the field had already been forgotten by the time he
arrived. He was now driven by anger, willing to do whatever it takes.
“I’m pleased you chose to come back.” The creepy man came out of
nowhere and was standing only a few paces from Taima.
“My father’s spirit has moved on, I am now the rightful leader of this
tribe and will do as I see fit, even if I do not have the support of anyone else.
How do I defeat my rivals?”
“Do not be so hurried, you must understand what you are about to do,”
the man warned.
“I will do anything, please. Whatever the price, I am prepared to pay it.”
Taima still couldn’t see the man’s face but was sure he felt as if the stranger
was smiling.
“Very well, follow me.” He turned and headed along the forest line
towards a distance mountain with Taima following closely behind.
“Where are we going?” Taima asked.
“I have a place I have been staying at nearby, it’s not far off from here.”
As they walked along the forest’s edge Taima felt uneasy. Was this really
a trap? He continued following anyways, wanting to see what this person had
to offer.
The last remnants of sunlight slipped under the horizon. The cloaked
man made a sudden turn to the left entering the forest. Taima could see what
the man was heading for, there was an outcropping of rocks hidden among the
trees.
Reaching the rock formation, the man then proceeded into a hollow cave
that was sunk deep into the rock face. The flickering light of torches were
dancing on the walls, casting animated shadows that jumped around the room.
Taima was astonished at the size of the cave, it stretched more than fifty feet
back and was as wide as three full grown men laying end to end. The ceiling
was high enough that it could almost accommodate an entire tepee at its peak.
“Make yourself comfortable, but please, do not touch anything. There
are many items here of considerable power. Power which you cannot begin to
understand,” the man said with a condescending tone in his voice. Taima
watched as the cloaked figure shuffled back and forth between the cave walls
gathering what looked like random trash.
After a few moments the man returned to where Taima was standing.
“Sit, I need you to be still while I begin.”
Taima obeyed and sat on the floor of the damp cave, brushing the dirt
from his hands. After everything was in place the wolf headed man stood over
Taima in silence with his hand stretched out in front of him. Taima felt as if
the man’s gaze was piercing through him, locked on his spirit.
“You must consider and understand completely what I am about to say.”
The man paused for a moment to let this statement sink in. “I brought you here
to give you the gift to walk as a bear if you chose, but I can see your spirit is
resistant to this and it will not be possible. Instead you will be cursed with an
unyielding blood rage. You will not be able to control what I am to do to you.
Your blood will forever be tainted with this curse. It will grant you power
above any man so that you can carry out what you desire most, bringing an
end to your enemies.” Again the man paused, this time waiting for the
inevitable questions.
“What will happen to me after the curse has ended? What can I expect?"
"The curse will cause your rage to be intensified so much that it will no
longer be under control. After you have defeated your enemy, provided you're
still alive, I do not know what will become of you. The curse will likely
consume you with madness and result in your death."
"I have to do this no matter the consequences. I have nothing to live for
now and even less to live for if I do nothing." Taima glared at the man waiting
for him to respond, or to do anything at all. But he just stood there like a
statue, finally he sat down in front of Taima and held his hand out with his
palm facing up. Taima held out his hand the same way in response. Just as
Taima began to think he'd misinterpreted the man's action, the man pulled a
knife out and placed it in Taima's hand.
"After I am finished with my portion of the ceremony, you must wound
yourself and offer your blood to seal the curse."
Then without warning, the man started speaking in a language Taima
had never heard before. The torch light began to flash wildly around the room
and the earth felt as if it was vibrating with a low rumble. A gust of wind hit
Taima in the back causing him to shiver as the touches blew out.
Sitting in the dark, Taima wondered what was going on around him. It
felt like something had brushed up against him as it passed by. Then it
happened again and again, the man's chanting was now getting faster. As the
last word was spoken the torches erupted in a shower of sparks, the flames
much more intense, nearly reaching the top of the cave.
The cloaked man was nowhere in sight. Taima was about to get up when
a voice cut through the room. "Now! do it now."
Taima ran the blade along the palm of his left hand, slicing into the
flesh. His hand stung as he balled it into a fist, turning it sideways so the blood
could drip out into the bowl that was laying on the floor. Drops of blood
splattered on the inside of the bowl before they began to change color, turning
to black then glowing bright red. Shocked, Taima wanted to back away but he
couldn't. It was as if someone, or something, was holding his hand steady over
the bowl. Then the blood began to dance in the bowl just before it leapt into
the air returning to Taima's hand.
A burning sensation started in his hand and slowly flowed up his arm.
Reaching his chest, the burning spread throughout his body. Taima closed his
eyes and clenched his teeth. The pain was unbearable and he cried out in
agony.
The screams soon stopped and when Taima opened his eyes they were
red, an inferno raging behind them.
"WHERE ARE YOU?" Taima bellowed like a volcano about to erupt.
Getting no response, he slammed his fist into the bowl on the ground. Not only
did the bowl vaporize into dust, but a crater much larger than his fist was left
behind in a cloud of dirt and debris. Taima sprang to his feet walking to the
entrance of the cave in search of the mysterious man. The cave was emptied of
most of the man’s belongings, again he was nowhere to be found, causing the
frustrated Taima to repeatedly pound his fists into the cave wall. Fragmented
rock flew in every direction as the walls came tumbling down. Taima
exploded from the pile of ruble and ran off to the south, towards the enemy
village.
☼
“Steven. Steven, you’re safe. Take deep breaths. Calm down.
Remember, these emotions are not your own.” Ouray said standing back a
distance from Steven as he thrashed on the ground. When he opened his eyes
there was an unmistakable red glow burning within them. Ouray took a step
back while scanning for a nearby exit. Steven sat up, and to Ouray's relief, the
fierce look in his eyes began to subside.
"That was awful,” Steven said. “Taima's decision to go through with the
curse. And the changes that happened to his body. He's still inside there, in
that body I mean. He's trapped, controlled by whatever it is that man did to
him." Steven said.
Ouray just nodded as he listened to Steven, then replied, "It is a terrible
thing, but you saw that he chose it for himself."
“Well, yes but I'm sure he didn't know how bad it was going to be. Why
couldn't the man give him the gift that he spoke of rather than the curse?"
"When this man speaks of a gift, it is anything but that. The gift he refers
to has been called many names throughout time, yet one truth remains with
them all. It is an ancient and forbidden magic which our people now call
bearwalk." Ouray's face was wrinkled with disgust.
"The bearwalkers no longer exist, do they?” Steven asked. “If it is
considered forbidden then no one can do it, right?"
"It was believed the last of them had been killed off many years ago,
however we discovered recently that there are still those that practice in secret.
You’ve met one yourself without even realizing it."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steven said, feeling as if he
was being accused of something. “I've never known anyone that uses any
magic, especially not that kind of magic."
"No? well how did you carry all those supplies here with you? They
must have weighed about as much as you do."
Steven tried to hide the surprised look on his face. How could Ouray
know about the supplies he lost in the forest? "I uh, I had to take many extra
days on my trip to rest from the exhaustion," Steven lied, remembering what
his father told him about keeping his secret.
"And killing that bear with nothing more than a knife, did that also take
many extra days?" Ouray was walking toward Steven with a menacing look in
his eyes.
Backing up, Steven worried what Ouray and the others would do to him
now that they knew his secret. "I um, well I... how did you…?"
"A scout of ours, the man you bumped into the other day, was in the area
and he witnessed what you did. As you saw the other day he respects and fears
you, knowing what you can do. He saved you by bringing you back here.
When he returned to where the bear had been though, there was a man
slumped up against the tree. That man was a bear walker and was likely
stalking you your entire journey. The bearwalker was missing an eye and the
skin around it was recently charred."
The memories of the wolf attack came flooding back to Steven. The
smell of burning fur and flesh overwhelmed his senses like it had just
happened. Had he stabbed out the wolf’s eye with the burning stick?
"Can these bearwalkers take any form, or multiple forms?"
"Yes and no. Generally a bearwalker has only one form they can wear,
but experienced bearkwalkers can take on many," Ouray explained.
"My first night in the forest I was attacked by a wolf. I defended myself
and it ran off, but I thought it was just a wolf. Later I encountered that bear. It
chased and attacked me in the forest. I had no idea it was a person,” Steven
said pleading with Ouray. “So you know about my strength? Why didn't you
tell me before?" Steven asked.
"Yes, I know of the strength you possess and more importantly, who you
are."
"Who I am? I told you who I was, there’s nothing special about me."
"You don’t even know who you are yet, but that is enough for today,"
Ouray said. "We will continue tomorrow and I can answer your questions
then.” Ouray turned away and walked out, pushing the deer skin door covering
out of his way.
Steven sat a while longer, thinking about what he’d just been told. Could
I have really killed a bearwalker? Steven suddenly felt ashamed, not only was
he forced to kill an animal because it was attacking him but now he finds out it
was actually human. Steven had never hurt anyone before, he didn’t like the
idea even if the person had possibly been evil. Steven left the lodge and went
in search of Aiyana, he really needed her comfort right now.
After stopping down by the lakeside and waiting for an hour he searched
the rest of the village but she was nowhere to be found by the time the sun had
set. Exhausted and growing tired, Steven gave up on his search and returned to
his wigwam for some much needed sleep.
☼
Early the next morning Steven wasted no time getting back to the lodge
in hopes that Aiyana was again, helping to set up for his vision quest. Steven
entered the sweat lodge to the familiar smell of burning smudge.
Disappointed, he saw only Ouray standing by the wall.
“Where’s Aiyana, is she not helping you this morning?” Steven asked.
“No, she is no longer here,” Ouray replied.
“What do you mean she is no longer here? Did something happen to
her?” Steven was panicking and started anxiously pacing back and forth.
“It’s not that at all, calm down before you pass out. I don’t feel much
like trying to revive and heal an unconscious boy for the next few hours. She
went to the Mystic Grove to further her training, she should be back in a few
weeks,” Ouray said setting the bowls on the ground.
“Oh, well why didn’t anyone tell me she would be gone?”
“She left while you were here yesterday and I didn’t want it distracting
you. Can we continue now? Or do you have any more unrelated questions to
waste time?” Ouray seemed especially impatient this morning like he was
dreading their session. Steven dismissed the idea concluding that Ouray was
probably just grumpy from lack of sleep. Ouray was a very busy person after
all. Steven couldn’t even remember a time when he had known Ouray to sleep.
Does he sleep while I’m doing my vision quests?
Sitting down by the assorted bowls Steven took a deep breath, letting the
sage and other smoldering herbs soothe him. Ouray went about sprinkling
small portions of tobacco around Steven then proceeded to smear the unknown
herb concoction onto Steven’s skin. The next part was always the worst. No
matter how many times Steven had gone through these steps, the last part of
putting the paste in his mouth was just awful. He hesitated briefly before
holding his breath and forcing the paste between his lips and onto his tongue.
He was accustomed to the nausea as the room began to tilt and spin. Finally
the fog surrounded his vision and he was out.
☼
Taima stood on the outskirts of a large village. The wind pushing at his
face, urging him to turn back. The night sky was shimmering with stars, like
beacons of light. Grass brushed at Taima’s legs as he stood in the field, the
knee high vegetation swaying with the wind. Taima was tired of waiting, he
didn’t want to search the entire village to find the one he was seeking.
“AKANDO!” He yelled.
People began emerging from their homes, curious to see what was
causing the commotion. Taima stood holding a spear in one hand and a club in
the other. He didn’t care how many had to fall with Akando, but he was going
to die tonight. While the number of people gathering at the edge of the village
to get a better view multiplied, Taima stepped forward searching for the only
one that mattered. Deep in his subconscious, the old Taima struggled to break
free, knowing what he was doing was wrong. He wanted Akando dead but not
at the cost of innocent lives. The crowd started to part as a man in a large
headdress walked to the front of the group.
 It was Akando and judging by his garments he had been made chief of
his tribe, no doubt for his contribution to the battle in which he killed the
enemy chief and his first born son.
“Taima. So nice to see you made it through alive, I heard others were not
so fortunate.” Akando made no attempt to hide his self satisfied grin. “How’s
your family? Oh, sorry. I forget, you no longer have a family. I see you bring
no warriors. Have you come to surrender your tribe to me? I’m sure they will
do just fine working our fields for us.”
Taima stood, expressionless, never moving a muscle.
“Too scared to speak Taima? Why don’t you just run along and let the
elders handle your peace talks,” Akando said, openly mocking him.
“Are you ready for the Great Spirit to take you, Akando?” Taima
replied.
“To take me? How dare you. You come here, alone, and you threaten
me.” Akando’s smirk disappeared immediately. “Kill him. I don’t want him
getting away, he has caused enough problems,” He said turning to a small
group of warriors that were standing just behind him.
Obeying their chief, the five warriors spread out and advanced on
Taima, their spears pointed out in front of them, held in a ready position.
Again, Taima didn’t move, he just continued to stare at Akando as if he could
kill him with only his mind. The warriors were now only twenty yards from
Taima and were advancing at a steady pace.
In one swift movement Taima brought his right hand up, holding the
spear and launched it in the direction of the oncoming attackers. The spear was
hurled with such force that it barely arced, whistling slightly as it sailed
through the air. When the spear made contact with it’s target, the man’s chest
did little to slow it down as it nearly passed clean through his heart.
Taima tossed his club to his right hand as the remaining four warrior
screamed with rage and switched from a walk to a full run in his direction. As
they neared, they could see the endless rage burning in Taima’s eyes, causing
fear to well up inside them. He stepped forward into the oncoming attack.
Ducking below the first spear thrust, he pivoted on this right foot and swung
his club in a backhand motion connecting with the first attacker’s neck,
breaking it with an audible snap.
The others paused in shock just long enough for Taima to dispatch the
next man by bringing the club down square on the top of his head, shattering
his skull and the club in the process. Alone and without a weapon, Taima
stepped back from the remaining two warriors while planning his next move.
Seeing the defenseless brute, the two remaining warriors charged attacking
simultaneously.
Taima side stepped one spear, but there was no way to avoid the next.
As the second spear lunged for his chest Taima caught it by the shaft just as it
made contact with his skin, halting its forward momentum. A trickle of blood
rolled down Taima’s stomach from its point as the warrior on the other end
tried repeatedly to drive it in deeper with all of his might. Moving it away
from his chest, Taima then pulled the spear, with the man still gripping the
other end, to him and snapped it in half midway down the shaft with his free
hand. The other warrior tried to free his spear from the fray but was too late.
The pointed end of the broken spear came crashing through his breastbone as
Taima drove his fist to the ground behind it.
The only remaining warrior stood facing Taima, holding the useless
stick that use to be his spear. He turned to run, but his legs kicked nothing but
air. Taima was gripping the back of his neck, holding him off the ground.
Pulling the man in closer, Taima wrapped his arms around the warrior’s
midsection and began to squeeze. Bones broke as the man’s last breath was
forced from his lungs in a sickening groan.
Taima threw the lifeless man to the side and charged at the crowd.
Watching as their expressions changed from terrified awe to complete panic.
People scattered in every direction as Taima approached. His vision started to
fade and cloud over. Steven could feel his consciousness separate, once again
he was himself in Taima’s body. Something was pulling him back. No it
wasn’t pulling him, something was pushing him out. What was going on? His
vision went black just as he came upon the crowd.
☼
Ouray was visibly shocked as Steven sat up. “What are you doing
awake? The vision isn’t over yet. You’re not supposed to be awake for a long
while,” Ouray said while running to Steven’s side.
“I don’t know what happened, I was forced out of Taima. I haven’t felt
that before, it was like something didn’t want me to be there,” Steven replied.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing happening but you have to get back,
your quest cannot be complete without this final lesson.” Ouray was forcing
Steven backwards toward the ground. without waiting for Steven to comply he
stuffed more of the paste into his mouth and held his head off the ground.
“Wait, but you said it was dangerous to enter the vision state so soon
after waking,” Steven mumbled through a full mouth while trying to expel the
nasty substance.
Ouray clasped his hand over Steven’s mouth. “Yes it is dangerous, but
you have to complete your vision quest or you will never understand. Do not
worry I will be at your side should anything go wrong. I will ensure you are
safe. You won’t be out for much longer.”
Steven stopped struggling and let the vision take over. Before the room
even started to spin again, everything went dark.
☼
The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, illuminating the tall
grass with a majestic golden shimmer. As the sun rose higher, it was obscured
by clouds, causing it to cast long rays of light emanating from the sun’s
position in the sky. Taima stood alone in the field staring up at the morning
sky. Tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes as the fury and rage behind
them slowly burned out.
Holding Akando’s bloodstained headdress and surrounded by the
corpses of so many people, the images of slaughtering the entire tribe replayed
over and over in Taima’s mind. In the last moments of the massacre something
inside Taima had snapped. Through all the anger and death, his suppressed
subconscious, the gentle loving man that he use to be finally broke free. He
was finally himself again though his unnatural strength remained. What have I
become? Taima asked himself. He knew he could not return home now. What
if this happened again? Taima vowed form this day on he would never again
call any one place home. He would roam the lands and survive where there
was no one he could ever hurt again.
Taima turned back towards the sun to the east and ran off through the
field, the long grass brushing against his legs like the hands of his victims
trying to slow his retreat. Soon after he felt dizzy and knew that the other spirit
he had briefly shared his mind with, which he had discovered while trapped in
his own body, was once again leaving. Goodbye friend, I am sorry you had to
witness this, he thought.
☼
Steven woke up staring at the roof of his wigwam. He shifted on the
ground where he was laying.
“Steven!” Aiyana ran to his side as Ouray came in from outside.
Steven smiled at Aiyana, then he spoke to Ouray. “How long was I
asleep? And why is Aiyana back early?”
“Aiyana did not come back early, unconscious for a week. For a few
days I thought you would be lost to us forever. After your last vision quest you
started to wake up but never did,” Ouray said.
“The last vision quest. It was, it was my nightmare. That was the same
nightmare I have had for as long as I remember.”
“I believe that to be part of the curse, or as far as I can tell it is. I don’t
fully understand the curse, but your father had the same recurring nightmares,”
Ouray explained.
“You knew my father?” Steven asked.
“I did know your father and Taima as well. I was only a boy when Taima
had your father. I was also there when your father and mother had you.
Though they called you by a different name, Songaa. You were named for
your father, it means strong. As far as we could tell, the curse is passed down
from father to son and your strength with it.”
Steven could feel a sense of longing coming from Ouray.
“Were you and my father close? I don’t really know much about him, or
my mother, nor do I know what happened to them or how I came to be with
the Perrault’s. From what Henry and Marie told me, my parents died and the
church placed me with them to be raised,” Steven continued.
“Yes that is all true,” Ouray said. “But that isn't the whole story.” Ouray
paused and looked to Aiyana who was still sitting at Steven’s side with her
hand on his arm. Ouray whispered something to Aiyana, she nodded then got
up and left.
“Where is she going, what’d you say to her?” Steven asked.
“I asked her if I could have a moment alone with you, this next part
might be a bit hard on you and I want you to have your privacy.”
Steven took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect next.
Ouray waited to see that Steven was ready, then he continued, "A few
months after you were born your parents took you with them as they went to
gather herbs for me. In their travels they went further south than they had
planned and stumbled onto the Perrault’s farm. Your adopted father, Henry,
was surprised by their presence and shot them out of fear, not knowing why
they had come. He instantly regretted his decision when he saw that your
mother had been carrying you on her back and that they carried nothing more
than herbs. He thought they intended to harm his family.” Ouray paused for a
moment as Steven stared with his mouth open in shock.
After a moment Ouray went on with the story. “Henry felt horrible and
brought you back here to the church in the village and explained everything.
Fearing that you would one day seek revenge for what they had done to your
parents the men at the church decided it would be best that you never know
what happened. The only way for it to remain that way is if you went to live
with the Perraults. Henry took you back home, but that wasn’t the end of it.
We were told we could never go to see you on their farm. Angry and fearing
for your safety, because of the gift of your strength and not knowing what
Henry would do if he discovered it. The natives here at the village drove the
men from the church out of here to be certain they would never return. Since
then it has been only I who kept the wishes of the church men by preventing
anyone from traveling to the farm. Over time people forgot, that is until you
showed up in the forest so many days ago.”
“I can’t believe what you’ve told me. All these years and I never knew. I
promised Henry and Marie that I would return to them as soon as I could, but I
don’t know if I could ever face them again,” Steven said, tears beginning to
pool in his eyes.
“That decision is yours, I can't make it for you. You are always welcome
to stay here, but I understand if you must return.” Ouray turned to get up. “Oh,
I nearly forgot, if you recall the object in the center of the village. That is now
yours. Your father had it with him on that day, but hid it in the woods before
going onto the Perrault’s farm. It was originally Taima’s club, a gift given to
him long ago and passed down to your father. It is made of enchanted,
opalized wood and is indestructible. I’ll leave you alone, if you should ever
need me you know where you can find me.”
“Thank you, can you send Aiyana back in?” Steven asked.
Ouray nodded to Steven then walked out through the flap of animal skin
hanging in the doorway.
Aiyana came back into the room where she sat at Steven’s side wiping
the tears from his face. “How are you?” Aiyana said.
Steven wondered if he had heard her correctly.
“Ouray has been learn me little English,” She said smiling at Steven.
☼

Liked This Book?

For More FREE e-Books visit Freeditorial.com