Prologue - The Beginning Post 2

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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.”