CHAPTER 2
Nakoda awoke, thrown on the ground. Her head was banging, and she fingered a bandage wrapped around her cheek. Where was she? What had happened? She felt empty. Like something was missing. A chunk of her had been ripped from her and shredded.
Her head turned, and she saw an old Indian woman dipping cloths in a bowl of water. The bowl had strange markings, as if telling a story, a legend. Nakoda studied the old woman. Her long gray withered hair was in a long braid. Thin as it was, it traveled down her back. Her lose Indian cloak was brown leather, and she made no noise, because of her moccasins. Colorful beads flapped up and down, quivering when the woman walked.
The woman patted a blue cloth on Nakoda's arm. Nakoda gasped when she realized she couldn't move it. It was broken at the very least. A massaging made Nakoda relax, and she felt the weight of the exhaustion release it's grip. Her black eyes closed and the terrible events of the day played in her mind, streaming through her dreams. Nakoda snorted before she let the wave of sleep swallow her. They weren't dreams. More like nightmares.
"I ran, leaving a trail of dust behind me. Horrible monsters as dark as night tore up the trail behind me. I shot a bolt of electricity at the urgal. It cried out in pain, and scurried back. Immediately, he was replaced with a bulwoggle.
"No matter how much I ran, no matter how far I go, I would be caught. I'm a nomad, traveling the lands, never having a home. I'm unwanted, uncared for. Erase the pain, out of misery. Help me!
Nakoda awoke again, her nightmares sifting through her brain. The old woman was leaning over her, her green emerald eyes searching Nakoda. The Indian turned and found a bowl of salt, and sprinkled it over Nakoda. Nakoda stuttered and said,
"Excuse me? What are you doing? Who are you?"
The old woman replied, "I am Whistle Bird. I am sprinkling salt to cease the nightmares, and you are not well." Whistle Bird pushed Nakoda back down onto the woven buffalo rug. "Do not move, Bird Woman, for you are not ready."
"Whistle Bird? Where am I?" Nakoda looked around the room for the first time, realizing she did not know this place. It was a small room, barely big enough to fit Nakoda and Whistle Bird. Smoke traveled out the roof, and she heard noises from the outside.
"You are in my camp. I will take care of you till you are ready." Whistle Bird replied, standing and taking the bowl of salt to a corner in the small tent.
"What are those markings on the jar?" asked Nakoda.
"That is an old legend, handed down from generation, to generation. Would you like to hear it, Bird Woman?"
"Sure." Nakoda replied.
"Well," Whistle Bird started, "It all began with my great-grandmother, Night Blossom. Night Blossom was the chief's daughter, and she was extremely beautiful. Her hair went down to her waist, and she never kept it up. Her robes were envious to any girl in the tribe, for only Night Blossom could afford those riches. Her best friends, Rainbow Girl and Delilah Dream, were always together. Night Blossom was different from most girls though. The other girls wore much jewelry to impress the men of the camp. But Night Blossom was different.
"The only jewelry she wore was a single pendant. A blue diamond, a sapphire. One day, the camp was attacked by Mad Bull, an enemy to her tribe. Everyone knew Night Blossom was one of the strongest of the Aldenmor Tribe.
"But she ran that night. She carried one thing. The sapphire. She ran with Rainbow Girl and Delilah Dream. Night Blossom ran, and when she was surrounded, she lifted the jewel in the air." Whistle Bird pointed to one of the figures on the clay pot. It looked like a bird.
"They say that Mad Bull came, and snatched at Night Blossom, and her pendant. Night Blossom, rose into the air, spinning and whirling in the night sky. Then there was a bang of light, and Night Blossom disappeared.
"Many say that Mad Bull caught Night Blossom. And one day, that was proved. They found Night Blossom's body, lying in the forest. But people say, since it was cold-blooded murder, things will change. Night Blossom will rise again. But a hunter will always follow. She is like a phoenix, always rising again."
Nakoda sat and thought for what seemed for a lifetime. Then she spoke.
"Does this mean," Nakoda gulped, "That Mad Bull will rise too?"
"No, but his descendants will stalk the rising Night Blossom." Whistle Bird explained. "Only Night Blossom can seize the magic held away in that sapphire. Only Night Blossom and her friends can harness such magic. But the only other person who can have it, is Mad Bull himself. As long as his descendant has it, Mad Bull will return for what he thinks is his."
Nakoda shivered. "Does anyone know who the next Night Blossom will be?"
"Someone who looks like her. Same long black hair, same attitude, same friends. A Healer, Blazing Star, and Night Blossom will become the Warrior."
A few days later...
Nakoda thanked Whistle Bird for her hospitality, and turned to leave. She traveled far from the tribe's camp, wondering. 'How could this story be true? What does this diadem look like?'
Nakoda had suffered from amnesia, not knowing about the Sapphire. But she felt, somehow, that it was true. She looked down at her hands, worn with age. She felt like she was destined for something big. Big enough to change her life.
How right she was.