A long time ago

1.
         The mid day sun was high above the earth spreading a blanket of warmth over all underneath it possibly for the last time of the season. A chill is coming from the northern winds and the signs of winter are everywhere. The trees are full of colour and have begun to shed their leaves as the people of a small village, begin to ready themselves for their long journey to their winter refuge. The people have been in peace for many seasons and fear little of anything but completing their journey before the first snow falls. As the villagers are busy with the tasks of preparations, a young boy wanders among the busy grounds with a mind filled in turmoil. As the men dismantle some of the tepees and gather their belongings for the next day’s journey the young boy paces for some time before eventually making his way to the village’s northern edge where the old people live. Following the long row of tepees he makes his way through the grounds smiling at a few old ladies silenced by his approach.
         “Tansi.” He speaks politely before continuing on his path. As he approaches the last tepee along the edge of the village he sees his grandfather returning form somewhere so he waits for the old man to see him.
         "Hello my boy, are you all ready to leave?" The old man approaches the boy with the beginnings of a smile on his old and wrinkled face.
         "Yes Grandfather, I am but..."
         "Are the rest of our people ready as well my boy?” The young boy looks to his hands in front of him not knowing how to reply to the old man.          "Well, would you like to speak to me then? I suppose that is why you have come to me so early in this day, come." The boy nods to his grandfather and the two enter the large tepee where the old man has lived for many seasons now. As the old man enters his home he motions for the boy to sit beside him on some of the many furs laid out around the small fire pit. He stirs the smouldering coals before he adds more fuel. The boy sits in silence thinking of what he has come to say.
         "So, Young Bird, what brings you to me in this time before our journey? We are leaving at first light tomorrow you know."
         "Yes Grandfather, I know, I will be ready to leave and I will help the others to finish as well. I just wanted to talk with you of something troubling me, that’s all.” The old man nods to the boy in acceptance and urges him to continue with his words.
         "I have been having dreams for many nights now.” The boy sat in the comfort of his grandfather while looking into his hands for assurance.
         “It has been long since my nights were not full of hurt… I have dreamed of a great sickness coming to our people. In my dreams many of our people die. At first it was just our people from the plains but it soon night after night, stretched all across this great land we live. All the different people had been hurt by so many terrible deaths. I could not do anything to help; I tried very hard but could only watch as our family and our friends all died in pain. I don’t know how to take these feelings grandfather, I thought they might go away and almost hoped for them to, but they remained, every night, again and again, until last night.”
         “Hmm.” The old man thought for a moment before reaching out a comforting hand to the boy. Squeezing his shoulder gently the two sat in silence thinking of what the young one had seen.
         “You know my boy…” The old man paused, unsure of how to continue and thought for a while longer. The wind howled across the opening at the top of the old man’s tepee and the boy looked up as if to see the noise.
         “Young Bird, you mustn’t fear your dreams. Dreams are very powerful and you have been chosen to see what you have seen for a reason, a reason which is unknown to me. You are a gifted young man and I hope for you to accept what you have been given. You must be patient. You will see. Only time can help you deal with these feelings; be patient my boy.” The old man leaned away from his companion to reach for a small wooden box bound with soft beaten leather. As he opened the box an aroma of fresh and dried medicines filled the space around the two. The old man reached for a small stick and rolled a hot coal from the fire to sit in front of the boy. As he covered the hot coal with a sprig of sage, the smoke soon began to rise up bringing a certain comfort as the old man spoke again.
         “What have your dreams showed you to change your wish to be left alone?”  The boy sat deep in thought for a long time. The old man sat patiently waiting, breathing in the beautiful smell of the sage until the boy looked to the eyes of his grandfather revealing the glaze of tears threatening to race for the ground.
         “Grandfather I… I think I saw... Creator!” The old man was surprised by the words of his young friend and returned them with a warm and comforting smile.
         “Young Bird, the Creator is not just one person to be seen. The Creator is everything around us, the water that brings us life, the food that grows across the lands we call our home, the sky and the birds, you and me, all of life is from Creator, that means Creator is not one person alone.” 
         “I know Grandfather, you have taught me well.  I don’t know who he was but he was so strong and powerful, I don’t know who else he could have been.” The boy looked away and thought for awhile before he began again.
         “I was in our village. It was our village but it was different. Our tepees were strange; I have never seen them like this before. They seemed as though you could not move them, they were stuck in the ground and some were very different. There were a lot more people too; I have never seen so many people together before. Then I realized that no one was sick, everyone was healthy and happy.” The old man seemed content in the words of the boy. He was curious to know where this dream was going and he remained silent.
         “I could hear a drum in the distance somewhere and there were kids playing everywhere. It was happiness everywhere I looked but it was all so different. I walked around looking at all the different people and it seemed to me, they were celebrating something. I couldn’t understand most of what I heard; the language was familiar but strange. I began to move through a large crowd and as if out of nowhere, I saw a huge mountain stretching to the sky! In the earth and up to the sky! It was much taller than any trees I have seen, like a mountain of rocks made right in the middle of these lands! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; it was like nothing I have ever imagined.” The old man sat in amazement at the conviction this young boy was showing and could not help to show a slight smile in the corner of his aged lips.
“I was so amazed by this strange mountain that I didn’t hear anything or anyone, as I came to the front of the crowd I saw what the people were celebrating. There were many warriors standing in front of the mountain, they stood proud and were not moving at all. I have never seen warriors like these before; they were huge men with masks of hair and deep eyes. I couldn’t see any of their skin at all. They were completely covered with dark leather and bits of red. Their colours were so bold and strong. They all carried great round shields painted black as well. Some had shells on their shoulders and some had bones on their arms, but they all wore the same black leggings with shell and stone. I couldn’t hear anything except my own heart beating so loudly in my ears. It seemed like everything stopped for these warriors, and that’s when I saw him, the warrior of strength.” A few seconds pulled at the boy in silence as he sorted his thoughts to continue.
         “He came in through his warriors, they all silently moved without even looking to see him. He was dressed just like them but without the strong red colours his followers carried. His colour was of the snow, such a pure white all over his arms and legs. His shield had a picture of a lightening lit sky and large black rolling clouds; it almost looked real grandfather! When he came to the head of his followers he moved right to me and knelt down, as he began to remove his mask all the people and the other warriors watched as it came off. It was like no mask of ours, shining on the inside like the sun over water.” The old man listened to every word the boy spoke, absorbing it all, feeling every detail. 
         “His hair was long and black and his face was dark and hard, except for a soft pink scar over his left cheek. He looked right into my eyes and I looked back. His eyes were a different, dark green colour with brown around the center. I have never seen eyes like his before grandfather; never so powerful, like his! This man, this warrior looked to me and reached to touch my shoulder as everyone watched but before he could touch me he was gone. Everything was gone and I woke up.”
The old man looked to the boy with his seasoned wisdom almost trying to see this warrior through the depths of the dream. He heard everything the boy had said but expected nothing of the eyes. The old man continued to think for awhile looking at his young friend. The boy was unsure if the old man would believe him but he had never known his grandfather to watch him so closely, as strongly as he could, he watched back. With their eyes locked in silence, time stretched for what felt like eternity before anything was said again.
“Were you frightened of this warrior you saw Young Bird?”
         “No Grandfather, not at all.”
         “Hmm. I believe your dream is trying to speak to you my boy, but you must leave me to my thoughts for some time. We can visit of what you dream later. Will you be ok to wait a while before we continue?” The old man stayed his eyes on the boy as he waited for a response.
         “Yes grandfather, I will be fine. I’m just confused. I feel better having spoken to you now and will be alright.” The old man smiled and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Then we will talk later of your encounter and the dreams you are having in time to come. Go now and finish helping anyone who requires a hand. I will find you later.”
         “Ok Grandfather. Thank you.”
         The boy’s mind was better after speaking to his grandfather; he felt more at ease again and began walking back to the main group of men he had passed earlier. As he approached, he saw that everyone was eating and no one required help for the moment, so he decided to go to the stream for water. As he walked he picked up some water carriers and started thinking of what he had said to his grandfather. He could see fresh in his mind the eyes of the warrior he had almost met.
         The stream wasn’t far from the village and he arrived in a short time. He sat for a while on the bank of the trickling stream and watched the water slowly fill the bags. As he kneeled to stand and retrieve the full sacks of water he looked down into the moving surface of the stream. He looked for a single moment and as his gaze cleared the surface of the stream smoothed with an absence of wind. The boy looked at the reflection in the mirror-like surface and realized he could not remember ever having seen his own face before. He looked closer and for the moment in himself, for half a second, just before the wind returned to distort his image, he looked deep into his own eyes. He was looking into the eyes of his warrior. He looked to the dark green shade ringed by a light brown the likes of which he had never witnessed before. As the realization of his dream set in he noticed something moving across the stream. His vision shifted from the distorted stream to a movement across the opening, to a beautiful eagle stretching its wings at the top of a tall pine tree. The eagle looked towards the boy as it resumed its calm perch. A few moments passed in still silence as the two felt a connection and watched each other. Young Bird began to feel a sense of equality resting between them and at that instant he knew what his path in life must be. The eagle spoke a long cry into the wind and opened its wings again to move and lift off. As it circled around the tree before disappearing over the small bushel of wilderness, Young Bird noticed something slowly dropping to the ground. Leaving the bags to spill their liquid he sprinted the short distance to the tree. The boy smiled at the importance he felt was coming to him. His life as an important warrior was accepted as the feather softly rested into the open hand receiving it.