Chapter 1 - New Years Eve

This is the story of Lon Wolfbane, a 13 year old Native American Healer, who attends the Hanging Witch just outside of Salem, Massachusetts. Lon, as you will see hates school and would rather stay at home with his mom in Tennesse. Lon is a momma's boy even though he would never admit it, at 13 he is just coming into his powers and what develops is something that he does not like but learns to live with. Come along and enjoy Lon's adventure along with his best friend - Della.

The Adventures of Lon Wolfbane
Spirit Guide

Chapter 1
New Years Eve

At 10 till midnight on December 31, 1899, the world was

celebrating the end of the nineteenth century. Some people were with their family and friends barricaded in their homes waiting for the end of the earth and the coming of the Lord.
But for the majority this was a major event and many were willing to stay up to welcome the 20th century in style.
In a fog covered valley in eastern Tennessee a young boy named Lon Wolfbane, had just fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, his Christmas present snuggled up as close as she could to him.
Effie, his mother, sat with her legs crossed, in her favorite chair, combing her long black hair, looking at him in the way only mothers can. She knew that she should wake him up because he had spent so much of the day looking forward to this New Years celebration and trying to figure out why it was the beginning of the 20th century when it was just 1900. In ten minutes her son would turn 13 and she knew tomorrow would be a busy day for him, so she just let him sleep.
Traditionally it should have marked the beginning of his Spirit Journey but Effie had set her foot down, Lon would not start this three-week adventure – Effie called it an ordeal – until the end of school term in June. Lon had been extremely disappointed but Effie had held her ground, she considered his education more important, even if the Dean of Students had given his ok for Lon to miss the first two weeks of the school term. It didn’t help that the Dean of Students was Lon’s grandfather Lance Wolfbane and he had really pushed Effie to allow Lon to go on the journey.
Effie had thought about taking Lon over to Brown Mountain in North Carolina, tomorrow night, so they could work the lights over the mountain. For several hundred years now the Tribe had been doing this about three times a year. Their antics had caused a local legend to spring up about the source of the lights and rumors of the mountain being haunted. Wolfbane himself had started this to draw attention away from their valley.
She had decided to give him a surprise party instead since it had been such a cold winter. She didn’t relish flying around on her broom with the temperatures well below zero. She had several members of the tribe lined up to keep him busy all day, so she could get everything ready – Effie just hoped it was enough to help overcome his disappointment.
Outside the wind was howling down the valley, sounding so much like the howl of a lone wolf as it passed over the boulders at the entrance to the valley. The little beagle pup curled up by Lon, would twitch her ears once in a while and she’d emit a low growl, especially when the wind got louder.
Effie uncrossed her legs and stood up - she couldn’t believe that her son was really turning 13. It just didn’t seem real, wasn’t it only yesterday that she had met Lewis Wolfbane? It just seemed that 19 years couldn’t have passed since that first meeting at the Hanging Witch, the school they both attended. Oh if only Lewis were here now, well ok he would be shortly, but it was on these special days that Effie really missed him.
As she turned to go into the kitchen she noticed her reflection in the mirror on the hall tree by the front door, she walked slowly over to it studying the face it reflected back at her. The hazel brown eyes had a few laugh lines forming around them causing her to smile.
“What do you expect….to stay young forever? You’re turning 33 this year my dear,” she said quietly to herself. She stood that way for a while thinking back over the years that she had spent in this house.
Lewis, her dear Lewis, had died two years after their son’s birth, from wounds suffered in a bear attack. How the bear had managed to get as close to him as it had no one knew, not even Lewis. Some thought maybe it was due to some darkling – some witch or wizard who practiced the dark arts; Effie really didn’t believe that, no one who practiced the dark arts was strong enough to take on Lewis Wolfbane and walk away from the encounter without a scratch, let alone kill him.
Effie wasn’t bragging on her late husband, Lewis was considered by many to be one of the strongest healers since his great, great, great, great, great grandfather, Wolfbane, the founder of the Tribe of Wolfbane. Lewis had also held the joint position of village chief and the village healer – no small achievement – only a very skilled person would ever be considered for such an honor.
The last Wolfbane to hold this joint position had been Lewis’s grandmother Licuala. From working so closely with Licuala, Effie knew she was a very tough woman. Effie had trained with her, learning more of the healing arts for a year after she moved to the valley, before Licuala died of pneumonia. She was 99 years old when she died and would still be here today if she hadn’t fallen through the ice when she went out to check on her Lucy.
Effie’s favorite tale was about the birth of Licuala’s first child. Licuala’s husband, David DovesHand had not been happy about Licuala keeping her last name when they married but he soon realized that trying to fight her was a mistake and after awhile he gave up on trying to talk her into taking his last name. But when she became pregnant with their first child and announced to the village that this child would be a Wolfbane it was more than David could take.
They fought for six months over this, neither giving an inch. David made a big mistake by starting the fight anew while Licuala was giving birth. Licuala snatched her wand off the stand beside her bed and David knew he was in trouble, he turned and ran for the door but before he reached it Licuala screamed, “You dog!” The next thing the midwife helping with the delivery knew there was a hairless Mexican Chihuahua on the floor where David had been.
“To the dog house with you,” Licuala had screamed, “and don’t turn back until you change your mind!”
Licuala had given him a way out by telling him not to turn back until he changed his mind. But because of his stubbornness David spent almost a month in the doghouse in the middle of winter and a hairless Mexican Chihuahua is not equipped to spend time outside in the middle of a cold Tennessee winter.
Several times Effie had threatened to turn Lewis into a Chihuahua too but he’d turned the table on her and she’d spent a day as one.
Lewis would be the last Wolfbane to hold the dual role – a ruling made shortly after his death by the acting chief and elders of the village. His death had robbed the tribe of the two most important positions; the position of chief had reverted back to Lance, Lewis’s father, who had been appointed the Dean of Students at the Hanging Witch, before Licuala had died. Lance continued on as chief until his son Daniel was old enough to take over the role.
Effie had been appointed Healer of the tribe, even though she was from Indian Territory. No one from the valley could match her skill or passion for the art of healing. Effie’s parents were both healers for their clan and she had been raised to respect the art and had studied it in depth at the Hanging Witch, plus she had the year of training with Licuala.
The mystery of how the bear had managed to get close enough to maw Lewis was never truly answered. Even 11 years after the fact, it was still a subject that Effie and Lewis tried to find the answer too, as if it would do her any good, it wouldn’t bring him back.
Lewis still stuck to the tribes belief that the murdered soul would be forced to wander the earth, unable to go to the next world until acceptance of responsibility and the death of the killer or one of his clansmen restored balance by freeing him, allowing him to go to the next world and since the bear that killed him had never been found after the attack, his theory did make a lot sense. But, Effie believed that Lewis just didn’t want to leave his family and was staying in this world because of it.
But Lewis was afraid that if it were a darkling, they would not be satisfied with just killing him, but would come after his family as well. This had bothered Effie at first but after so many years she didn’t believed it could have been a darkling that set the bear on Lewis - it had just been bad luck.
“Oh Effie none of that matters tonight,” she said softly to herself, “You’ve have to make sure you have everything you need for the party.”
She turned from the mirror and headed back down the small entrance hall into the living room, the wind howled again outside and Effie felt it coming in from somewhere. Looking toward the front door, she saw a hole where a piece of plaster had fallen out from between the logs right over the door. She had noticed this before and meant to fix it but in her role as Healer, she was always busy fixing something for someone else and rarely had time to do anything for herself.
Effie didn’t think twice about it - she walked straight to the fireplace and pulled down the beautifully carved oak box that Lewis had given her for their first anniversary - in it she kept her oak wand. She removed the wand and went back to the missing chink in the wall.
Touching the wall lightly with the wand she simply said “Mud.” The hole filled instantly with plaster, stopping the cold wind in its tracks.
Effie backed into the middle of the hall and called for “Smoke!” filling the small entrance way. She watched for any movement in the smoke and when she saw it she would search for a hole in the wall where the wind was coming in, filling the hole with mud. Effie repeated this several times until there was no more movement in the smoke filled entrance hall. She then cleared the hall of smoke and moved on to the living room where she continued to search for more holes by the time she was done it was midnight.
She couldn’t believe it took so little time to finish this work using such a simple spell and felt guilty because of it…. since she was always telling Lon that it was better to do this kind of work without using magic. Effie believed that hard work was better for you than doing a job by taking the easy route – using your magic.
Effie placed her wand back in the oak box and started for the kitchen again.
A shimmer of light exploded behind her, causing her to jump around, Lewis was here.
A low growl started coming from her son and at first this really confused Effie, Lon had never been able to see his father…… and why would he be growling at him anyway? She then noticed the tiny black, brown and tan head with the white blaze running down between the eyes looking right at Lewis.
It was then that she knew this little beagle pup was special. This suspicion had started on Christmas day when Lon was given the pup by Dan LaMay, she sensed something special about the pup.
Most animals were able to sense that Lewis was around but were never able to see him, but Della was looking right at Lewis and watching him start to walk across the room toward Lon, she moved from her position at Lon’s side and stood between him and Lewis, a ridge of hair along her spine standing straight up, right down to the white butterfly patch next to her tail, her teeth bared. Effie had never seen an eight week-old pup act like this and a beagle to boot. They were the gentlest dogs alive, and well to be honest kind of cowards.
“Della it’s ok, that’s Lon dad, he isn’t going to hurt him,” she told the dog. Della, closed her mouth as she looked at Effie, she then walked slowly toward Lewis, the ridge still showing down her back, once in range she started to sniff him.
“She can’t smell me,” Lewis said in amazement as he dropped down into a crouch and reached a hand out toward the dog.
As if the drive home the point that she could and understood what he said, Della attempted to lick his hand but her tongue passed through it and she jumped back looking at Lewis with a very curious expression, wagging her tail, she turned and headed to her spot beside Lon.
“I think you have her permission to visit Lon now,” Effie laughed. Effie always laughed when she was nervous and this scene had made her nervous.
“I can’t believe this,” Lewis said, “How can she see me?”
“I’m not sure, Lewis,” Effie said, “but she can. I’ve wondered about that pup ever since Dan gave her to Lon.”
Lewis looked at Lon, pride showing in his face. “I can’t believe he’s 13 tonight. I just wish he could see and hear me, I would love to talk to him.”
Lewis reached down toward Lon, Della watching him closely, and tried to rub his cheek but his hand went through Lon’s face causing him to wince from the cold touch. Lon turned on his side away from Lewis and brought his face closer to the fire - never waking. Della narrowed her eyes and growled softly at Lewis but she never showed her teeth.
Lewis stood, great silver tears showing in his eyes. Effie went to her husband then and hugged him. For her, Lewis’s touch was warm and caring, not the cold, unforgiving feeling most people associate with a spirit. Effie knew it was because of the person she remembered, the caring loving husband.
Lewis smiled down at her, “So tell me why he named her Della?”
“Let me get these two in bed first,” Effie said, wiggling her fingers in Lon’s direction as she bent down and picked up Della.
Turning toward the hall, she looked around at Lon who was now floating in mid air. “Come on,” she said heading down the hall. Lon followed her without any protests; Effie silently wished he still followed her like this when he was awake.
Effie lead the way to Lon’s bedroom. As she stepped into his room, she wiggled her fingers at his bed and the covers folded back. “Get in there,” she quietly told him. Lon drifted over the bed and slowly sank onto the mattress. Once he was in she pulled the covers up over him with her free hand.
She turned Della around to look at her, stroking the little pup’s head. Della tried her best to kiss Effie and she would not be content until Effie held her up so she could lick Effie’s nose. Effie laid her gently down by Lon’s side, telling her to, “Watch over him.”
Lewis had gone with her to put him to bed. He was now watching their son sleep; studying the face that was starting to look so like his, with the inky brown eyes and high cheek bones. Lon’s black hair was cut short, like his father he hated for it to get long especially his bangs, he hated for them to get into his eyes.
Effie stood for a few minutes watching Lewis, “I know you want to be a part of his life and maybe some day you will be,” she said quietly, laying her hand on his arm.
Lewis turned and gave her that smile that she remembered so well. Hand in hand they walked back to the living room.
“So what were you asking,” Effie said.
“I was wondering where he came up with the name Della,” Lewis said.
“I couldn’t believe it when he told me,” Effie explained.
“He read about a Della Stone in the Chattanooga paper one day while he was down to the LaMay’s store,” Effie said.
“So, who was this Della Stone?”
“Well she was a lady who lived in Chattanooga and she killed her husband. It seems the husband liked to go out and gamble away his pay, and then he would get drunk after losing it all, come home and beat Mrs. Stone. Mrs. Stone took all she could take and one evening, after a really horrible beating, he told her to melt some lead and make him some bullets. Instead of pouring the lead into the molds she poured the hot molten lead in his ear.”
“Well who could blame her,” Lewis said.
“Oh that isn’t the end of the story; it seems a lot of people in Chattanooga agreed with you but she was found guilty of the murder, anyway and was sentenced to hang. The sheriff did not want to carry out this job and he even went as far as leaving her door unlocked hoping she would escape.”
“Mrs. Stone told the sheriff, ‘I did som’thing that goes agin the good book Sheriff and I knows it. I’m ready to pay for what I done.’ So no matter how often he’d leave her door unlocked, Mrs. Stone was always in her cell the next day.
The day of her hanging finally came and as they lead her out of her cell, she was knitting. She climbed upon her coffin and knitted all the way to the gallows,” Effie said finishing the story of Della Stone for Lewis.
“So why did he name the pup after her?”
“Let’s see if I can get this right ‘Because the name Della will always make me think of someone who is strong willed and strong in character and you can just see that this pup is strong in character,’” Effie said doing her best to sound like Lon.
“I don’t know which shocked me the most, the story or the way Lon explained why he picked that name, that’s when I looked at Dan and knew where the explanation came from. I just raised one eyebrow and I swear if he could have disappeared through the floor he would have,” Effie said.
“Dan really thought he was in trouble,” Effie laughed, “especially when I asked Lon if Dan always let him read those types of stories when he went down to the LaMay’s store.”
Effie and Lewis talked on for almost an hour. She had come to enjoy the talks they had and the advice that he gave her. It was only after the clock struck one that Effie realized how late it was.
“I hate to end this but I have to get up early and work on Lon’s surprise party,” she told him.
Lewis said that was ok and he took his leave of her. Effie sat there for a few more minutes staring into the fire, reflecting on their conversation. She finally got up and with a wiggle of her fingers she put the lights out in the living room.
She finally went to the kitchen to check on her supplies; just as she was entering the kitchen a movement in the corner caught her eye. A field mouse was moving as fast as it could toward a hole in the wall, carrying what looked like a dried mushroom in its mouth.
“No it couldn’t be,” Effie muttered to herself, “I’m just sleepy and seeing things. Why would a mouse take those mushrooms?” She walked over to the kitchen cupboard and pulled open the drawer that she kept the mushrooms in. It was empty!
The little mouse had taken them all…..it didn’t really make sense to Effie; just one nibble of those would be enough to kill a mouse -these were a very magical and deadly mushroom, gathered from the Death’s Head Caverns. Effie used a very small amount of them in a portion to cure the common cold. It worked great; most people were over their colds by the time they reached the door.
Well Effie would have to make another trip back there; she couldn’t go the rest of this winter without them. That was it!! She could take Lon with her and do it tomorrow; this would be a small adventure for him and might take his mind off his postponed spirit journey.
She would talk to the people she had asked to help keep Lon busy while she got everything ready. She bet she could get them to get everything ready while she took Lon with her to the caverns.
Outside the mouse smiled, an extremely wicked smile. His plans were coming to light.

Prologue - The Beginning Post 2

Let me know what you think about this please.
If it seems enough of you like it I will contiune posting at least the first three chapters here. I do ask that you click on the ad links on this page, I get some money for each click. Thanks Dale

This is the story of Lon Wolfbane, a 13 year old Native American Healer, who attends the Hanging Witch just outside of Salem, Massachusetts. Lon, as you will see hates school and would rather stay at home with his mom in Tennesse. Lon is a momma's boy even though he would never admit it, at 13 he is just coming into his powers and what develops is something that he does not like but learns to live with. Come along and enjoy Lon's adventure along with his best friend - Della.

The Adventures of Lon Wolfbane

Spirit Guide

Prologue - The Beginning Post 2

And he saw his people – the great Cherokee nation. He saw years of war with their ancient enemies the Creek. He saw them living in peace with no war. But the peace was short lived and the vision changed – he began to see great ships coming across the ocean to the east and vast numbers of white people coming off those ships. These white people began to spread out across the land – pushing, pushing his people into a smaller and smaller circle. The stream of white people did not end but kept on coming and coming.
Wolfbane saw his great chiefs sign a paper with the great chiefs of these white people – the paper would be new and not a wrinkle would be on the paper but the minute his chiefs would sign it the paper would be faded and full of wrinkles and holes. His chiefs would hand the paper back to the white chiefs and they would rip it in half. This happened over and over in the vision.
Wolfbane saw his people being torn from their homes, taken to stockades and kept there like common animals. The white people raided their homes taking what they wanted and burning the rest. They would poke at his people through the bars of the stockade and laugh at them. Thousands of the great Cherokee were rounded up this way; some fled and hid in the mountains and valleys where no white man could find them. The thousands who did not flee, were forced to march – march a great distance from their homes to a strange land so unlike their homes. Thousands died on this march, a march so filled with tears. In the strange land they did find peace from the white man but they longed for the homes that they had lost.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down his face as he watched this scene play out in the light of the Great Cedar.
Nine hundred miles to the south in the state we now call Florida a young Yamasee maiden named Cypknee was looking for ghost orchids in a cypress stand, to use in a new love potion she was creating. She had just found one and was attempting to reach the branch it was on when a sound quite like a gunshot caused her to jerk her head around looking for the source of the noise.
As she did a light, bright as the sun blazed from the center of the cypress stand. She threw her hands up to ward off the brightness, squinting through her cupped hands, she noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did she was able to put her hands down and start watching what was being played out in the light.
And she saw her people happy, living in the swamps. But then she saw vast ships coming upon the waters of the great sea and people who had olive skin about the same color as hers came off these ships and they called themselves the Spaniards.
These Spaniards made war on her people and tried to convert them to the Spaniards way, but many hid in the great swamps and the Spaniards were never able to find them.
She saw more great ships come upon the sea and more people got off these ships and they were white. The white people lived far to the north and did not bother her people or the Spaniards at first; but soon she saw the Spaniards gave the land they had taken from her people to the whites and the Spaniards left.
She saw the whites move into her tribes’ lands and she saw her great chiefs try and make peace with these whites. Her chiefs told the whites that they were the isti siminoli or the free people but the whites only heard the word for people not free. They soon started calling her tribe the Seminole. Cypknee saw her people wage war on the whites and it looked like they won but more whites came and came. Her people were left with nothing. Some were rounded up like cattle and taken to a distant land – a land they were forced to call home but was not their home. Many escaped and moved into the center of the great swamps where the white man dared not travel and there they stayed for many many years.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down her face as she watched this scene play out in the light of the cypress stand.
Four hundred miles to the north in the state we now call Georgia a young Muskogee healer name Chatta, had just entered his hut when he heard a sound quite like a gunshot and the side of his hut exploded in light, bright as the sun. He threw his hands up to ward off the brightness. Squinting through his cupped hands, he noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did he was able to put his hands down and start watching what was being played out in the light.
And he saw his people – the great Muskogee federation. He saw years of war with their ancient enemies, the Cherokee. He saw them living in peace with no war. But the peace was short lived and the vision changed – he began to see great ships coming across the ocean to the east and vast numbers of white people coming off those ships. These white people began to spread out across the land – pushing, pushing his people into a smaller and smaller circle. The stream of white people did not end but kept on coming and coming and they called his people the Creek.
He saw his people being forced from their homeland further and further west. In the strange land they did find peace with the white man but they longed for the homes that had been lost.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down his face as he watched this scene play out in the light on the side of his hut.
Two hundred miles west in the state we now call Alabama a Choctaw man named Kaalosa had just turned himself back into a man from a raven. He was in training to become the principal healer of his tribe. He was on a creek bank away from the tribe where his practice would go unnoticed when he heard a great sound like a gunshot coming from the water; he turned trying to locate the source of the sound.
As he did a light, bright as the sun blazed from the center of the water. He threw his hands up to ward off the brightness, squinting through his cupped hands, he noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did he was able to put his hands down and start watching what was being played out in the light.
He too saw his people being forced off their lands, into a smaller and smaller area until his people were forced to leave their homes and joined the Cherokee in a great march. Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down his face as he watched this scene play out in the light in the center of the river.
700 hundred miles to the north in the state we now call Ohio a young Shawnee maiden named Doves Hand was helping the healer prepare for the spring bread dance – the celebration of spring and the planting of the corn. She was in a storeroom in the long house gathering the seed corn for the celebration. Doves Hand had just picked up a ceremonial bowl when a great sound like a gunshot came from the bowl causing her to drop it but it did not break.
A light exploded out of the bowl, bright as the sun. She threw her hands up to ward off the brightness. Squinting through her cupped hands, she noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did she was able to put her hands down and watch what was being played out in the light.
And she saw her people happy, living on the great flat lands with low valleys. But then she saw them driven from their homes by the Iroquois. Eventually they returned to their ancient lands.
She saw ships come upon a great body of endless water, people got off these ships and they were white. The white people lived far to the east of her people and did not bother her people at first.
Doves Hand saw her people forced off of their ancient lands and sent to the west. Some of her people stopped after many days of hard travel. Others moved on even further west and lived on the lands of the Cherokee who had also been forced from their homes.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down her face as she watched this scene play out in the light of the ceremonial bowl.
Five hundred miles southeast in the state we now call Virginia, a young Powhatan man named Solahontas was returning to his home from his studies with the medicine man. He was deep in the woods between villages when a branch snapped on the great oak off to his right – the sound was as loud as a gunshot. Solahontas snapped his head around toward the sound.
As he did a light, bright as the sun blazed from the center of the great oak. He threw his hands up to ward off the brightness, squinting through his cupped hands, he noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did he was able to put his hands down and start watching what was being played out in the light.
And he saw what was left of the Powhatan people living in peace with no war. But the peace was short lived and the vision changed – he began to see great ships coming across the ocean to the east and vast numbers of white people coming off those ships. These white people began to spread out across the land – pushing, pushing his people into a smaller and smaller circle.
But Solahontas had already seen this happen. His people’s last great chief, Powhatan had ruled over a vast empire but then the white people had come to the site they called Jamestown and Chief Powhatan’s people had been decimated and dispersed and their lands were taken over.
Solahontas then saw what remained of his people agree to turn over their land to the white people - they were sent to a strange land so unlike the one they gave up.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down his face as he watched this scene play out in the light in the center of the great oak.
Five hundred miles southeast in the state we now call Kentucky, a white woman named Lucy Horseman was just landing, she had finally been able to fly her broom for the first time in 3 years. She was in the holler where she planned to build her log cabin when a bang as loud as a gunshot, came from the hillside. Lucy snapped her head around looking for the wizard who had caused the sound for she knew this was some form of magic.
As she did a light, bright as the sun blazed from the center of the hillside. She threw her hands up to ward off the brightness, squinting through her cupped hands, she noticed that the light was starting to dim and that black shapes were starting to move in the center of the light. The shapes started to take on more definition, as they did she was able to put her hands down and start watching what was being played out in the light.
And she saw her people, the white people, coming across the great ocean like she had done, coming for freedom of religion, to have land of their own, to start their lives over – to just be free.
And she saw her people, the magical ones this time, coming across with the others, hidden among them. They were hunted in their homelands, there they lived in fear of being accused of being a witch or wizard and that would mean being burned alive or hanged. This new land was vast and here they knew they could be free to be themselves and she saw the joy on their faces when they realized how free they were.
She then saw her people – the magical ones - being hunted even in this great land. She saw a great trail and innocent people accused of being witches – hanged for nothing more than being out spoken. Some were even crushed between rocks.
The vision changed and Lucy saw what the white people were starting to do to the native people. She saw how they were driven from their native lands and taken to the strange land. She saw the chickenpox hit the native people and wipe out whole clans and she shouted into the vision “Stop it!! STOP IT!!”
Around her, trees were snapped in half and great dark clouds began to appear as Lucy’s anger over what she saw escaped her.
Tears of rage, frustration and sorrow fell down her face as she watched these scenes play out in the light in the center of the hillside.
Seven of the most powerful witches, wizards, healers, shaman, witch doctors, whatever you’d like to call them, stood transfixed, watching their own visions play out in the light. Some did not realize they were so powerful and would not find out for years what wisdom and power they possessed. All wondered why they were shown this vision though none could come up with an answer but in the beginning each was needed to add their own unique view to the tribe.
“Why seven?” many would ask. But none were able to answer. All would speculate that seven was a lucky number to most, even a holy number to some, but none would ever know for sure.
The first thought of all seven was ‘I must warn my people of this,’ and as each thought it the vision changed. Kaalosa saw himself going among his people warning of the coming of the white man, some knew the white were already here and could not see how they could harm the people. Many laughed at him, finally he saw himself being banished from his clan. But Kaalosa would not be stopped by the vision and in the end what he saw came true.
Each of the remaining six saw scenes just like Kaalosa’s played out but with them in his place and in the end they all came true.
The vision shifted and this time Wolfbane saw himself and four of his clansmen moving into the valley - making it their home. He saw himself standing under the Great Cedar welcoming more people to the valley and he understood that this would not only be the home of his clan of Cherokee but the home of many different tribes coming together to make a new tribe. A tribe of healers and magicians brought together to preserve their ways and to make new paths.
Doves Hand saw herself leave her flat plains and travel many days to the south with four members of her clan, together they walked into a valley filled with magic and life. She saw herself pay homage to her ancient enemy the Cherokee, a tall man named Wolfbane and call him chief. She saw herself and many of her descendants as the healer of the tribe.
Each of the remaining five saw themselves traveling many days and walking into a valley filled with magic and life. Each saw themselves welcomed to the valley by a tall Cherokee man named Wolfbane and each called him chief and they saw the roles they and their decedents would play in the new tribe of Wolfbane.
As Wolfbane watched the last of this vision play out in the light of the Great Cedar, the cold April wind came in a mighty gust, blowing around the boulders at the entrance to the valley sounding so like the howl of a lone wolf and Wolfbane was brought out of his trance by this eerie sound.
Each of the remaining six was also waken from the trance by the sound of a lone wolf howling. Together across what we now call the eastern United States, seven different people, in seven different locations would look around stunned and whisper, “Wolf Valley.”