Covenant Read online

Page 2


  Why did the death of this certain small boy bother me? I decided it was because he was just a child. I brushed off the feelings of guilt and prepared to face my father and explain to him why I had failed to execute the last hunt.

  The evening came and the sun died over the horizon. I was a bit tired. I didn’t want to see anyone or tell another soul about our failure in Woodland. So I entered the community with my head down, hands in my dirty pockets, not making eye contact with anyone as I watched my feet.

  Luckily, not much was going on around me as I listened. Other warriors were chatting amongst themselves. Children played wondrously with a ball and a stick—as, I thought, I had done at one time.

  Then someone called out, “Bodaway!” I turned to my left and saw James, another of my cousins, running toward me with his long black hair flowing back and forth. He looked worried.

  “Hey, James,” I said lowly.

  “Is it true? You killed a small boy last night in Woodland, South Dakota?” he asked coldly. Damn it! How did he know already?

  I nodded and continued to walk, wanting to pretend it had never happened. It seemed that everyone knew of my return and the story behind it. Families now stood outside of their small metal houses and watched as their future chief, me, didn’t want to be seen walking the streets of Red Valley.

  “Oh … sorry to hear that, Alope said it was an accident. I mean, I know you wouldn’t willingly murder a child. Lyonell would have, but not you,” he said. Lyonell was my older brother and the leader of the Wolf clan.

  “Yeah … I—I don’t want to talk about it,” I uttered.

  He nodded. “Oh! By the way, your father wants to see you immediately. It’s urgent,” he said. His tone was more serious than I had expected.

  “What does that man want now?” I asked harshly. Father worked the Lakota clan, my clan, to the brink of exhaustion and never gave us breaks in between hunts. I needed a break from the madness. I had started to question everything from the tiny drop of blood shed from my sword to the ancient belief of the Covenant; however, I kept those thoughts to myself. There was no reason for the others to worry if I truly believed in the Covenant or not.

  James kept silent for a few seconds. “He wants to speak with you about last night.”

  I froze in my skin. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he would lecture me about my lack of competence with a simple hunt. Even the weakest among the entire Naiche army could have handled a single Reborn. The hunts became tough when there was a group of Reborns—we never kill them in groups. With their combined faith, they could easily overpower us with their Reborn Spirit. We always had to follow and study our victims before we made a move.

  “That’s just great. I suppose he wants to yell at me for killing the wrong target,” I uttered as we both began to walk farther into town. Even though we were a poor community with limited resources, we craved power more than anything in the world. It was that craving that set us apart from other human beings—not to mention the fact that no one outside of the tribe knew we existed. Maybe some crazed lunatic would post stories about us on the Internet, but that was about it. To us, power was everything. Everything else was foolishness. We were a prideful people.

  As we drew near to the center of town, children played outside of their homes with a broken basketball goal and deflated ball. Aaron often had to manipulate the wind into the sports balls so that the children could play. Other warriors were sent out to steal goods from nearby towns and warehouses. If our people were desperate enough, they would rob tourists in the mountain towns, stealing their money or items for trade. We were known by tourists as dark raiders of the mountains.

  My fellow warriors and friends of my father waved at us, saying, “Good morning to the Promised Child” or “There’s the element of fire” or even “How is the son of Chief Torah doing today?” I didn’t mind being called the second name. It gave me confidence since I could manipulate the fires of the earth within a limited radius; however, I couldn’t create it.

  “Are you worried about what your father is going to say?” James asked as I began to kick a used soda can. Some liquid spilled out of the open top.

  I pondered for a moment. “No, he will probably just yell at me like he usually does and talk about when he was my age and how he killed with spite. You should be glad your dad isn’t a part of this world anymore, James. I’m growing tired of this life. Last night was a wake-up call for me. I murdered that boy!”

  James seemed a bit confused. He raised an eyebrow.

  “I haven’t seen my father in about a year. Wait! Why are you tired of this life? What are you saying, cousin?” James quickly asked. He stopped walking and I as well.

  “I’m just saying that I want something else to live for. There has to be more to our lives than hunting these Reborns whenever my father or the Tribal Council sees fit.”

  “You’re the Promised Child of the Covenant. Other warriors would kill thousands of Reborns to have your birthright. What you have is an honor, and you are our future chief, the future number one. Your father wouldn’t make your two brothers or sister our leader. It’s your destiny. Don’t ever regret it,” James said, trying to chasten me. It wasn’t working.

  James loved our way of life and certainly would argue against anyone who said otherwise. He valued our scarce culture and shunned anything pessimistic about the Covenant.

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with.”

  There was a fountain in front of the Temple of Naiche, a sanctuary founded by Chief Dosa, a former mentor and enemy of my father. My father and his clan, the Naiche clan, lived in the temple and governed our people with the help of the Tribal Council. Often called Spirit Whispers, they were a collection of elders and medicine men who spoke to the dark spirits on a daily basis.

  I began to drink the pure waters of the fountain. It was believed that the dark spirits purified the waters for drinking and bathing purposes. I cupped water with my dirty hands closed together and drank until I was full, sipping each handful with great pleasure.

  “Are you finished?”

  “Yeah, I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Good luck, brother,” James said as we hugged. We were closer than brothers. He was my best friend.

  We parted for the moment as I walked into the Temple of Naiche with my hands in my dirty jean pockets. I needed a bath, badly. The smell of body odor covered me. Never mind the thought of cleaning myself—I had to prepare my mind for one of my father’s condescending lectures about the way our lives are built around the Covenant. The Covenant was our god.

  There was no door to the entranceway, just a massive opening. I took small steps inside. I was a bit worried, but at the same time I did not give much care to the conversation to come. There was a small hallway at the front of the entrance. As I exited the hallway, I stepped into the ghastly sanctuary, where I saw my father on his knees, praying. Funny, I never once saw him pray to Lucian, the Covenant god. This must be a new act of prayer. He mumbled words of gibberish and lifted his hands high above him. I only saw his image hidden in the darkness of the stone walls. It was silent as I listened to his words, but I couldn’t make sense of them. I didn’t believe he heard me walk in; I was as quiet as a clever thief in the night.

  Then, without warning, he said, “Ah, there you are, my son, I was beginning to think your cousin Eis II didn’t tell you that I requested your presence,” Father said. Eis was James’s Naiche Native name, named after his father, Eis Lakota Senior. His father had left the tribe when he was young. My father had vowed to take care of James and Aaron when their father went to live in the Anglo world of the United States.

  He lowered his hands and stood. A light from the highest part of the temple pierced down to the top of his blackish long hair. I watched him turn toward me and glare with utter disgust.

  “I haven’t seen you in days, son. Are you feeling oka
y?” he asked. Our relationship was like a business. I took orders directly from him, as did my brothers and sister. It seemed to me like we weren’t even father and son, just distant business partners. I despised him for it.

  “Yeah, father, I have been busy doing what you and our lord god, Lucian, have commanded me to do … to kill.”

  “Then what do you have to say for yourself about the failure last night in Woodland, South Dakota?” he questioned. He tone went from welcoming to serious.

  “I … I ran into some trouble. Everything was going fine until a child of the Reborn pastor got in the way. I decided to let him go because of his son. He left and Nodin chased him down. He blasted the pastor’s truck with his element of wind, turning it on its side. I tried to stop him, but I failed.”

  “How did you fail?”

  “I manipulated my element of fire at him, and the wave missed Nodin. The fire wave collided with the truck, and …” I trailed off, trying to not think of the boy’s death.

  “… and what happened?”

  I took a moment to swallow my hatred for my unbearable mistake. “The truck exploded and the boy was still inside. The Reborn pastor fell to his knees and sobbed. So … then we left the scene. In other words, I killed a child.”

  My father cleared his throat. I lowered my head out of reverence. He began to walk out of the light beaming down upon the top of his head. This was it. I clenched my fist and bit my lower lip. Here came the yelling and screaming and a lesson about being inconspicuous in the lands of the United States.

  “No matter, son, the man will be dealt with in due time. Our lord god has something else in store for you and your clan.”

  I was puzzled. No yelling? He had something else in store? I grew furious. He had dismissed the entire hunt as if it were nothing, like the death of the boy didn’t matter to anyone else but … me. This doesn’t sound like the Chief Torah I knew. Normally, he would have been utterly disappointed in my actions. This wasn’t right of him.

  “You have something else?” I questioned with reverence.

  “Yes, a special hunt, just for your clan.”

  “So my failure doesn’t matter, is that it?”

  My father ignored any further questioning and continued, “You are to travel east again, but to the town of Blackfalls, Oklahoma. There you will find the Schultz family, a well-known senator and his three daughters. You will execute one of them and bring the head back. Our spies tell us that one of them is close to awakening or has awakened. The Reborn you are to execute will have blue and green eyes and carry these symbols on their clothing.”

  He then handed me a sheet of paper. I snatched it out of his hand and looked away. I was baffled. Maybe I had wanted him to yell at me for my mistake. Now he was sending me to kill an ancient Reborn that only existed in old textbooks or as fictionalized characters of religious literature. These were Reborns with unique faiths our dark spirits wouldn’t be able to fight against. They were known as the Awakened Reborns.

  “I’m sorry, Father, I refuse to take this hunt. We have never fought an Awakened Reborn. My clan isn’t ready for this kind of a hunt,” I argued.

  “That is where you’re wrong, Bodaway. I believe you’re ready.”

  I began to march in a circle, rubbing my long hair and becoming utterly frustrated with my father’s decision to send me to kill an Awakened Reborn without evidential cause.

  “On this day, you ask this of my clan and me. On this day,” I uttered.

  Without much thought, I crumbled the paper and tossed it to the rocky floor. My father glared at me with shock. I continued to march in the circle with my right hand covering my mouth as I searched for the words to say.

  “My clan, the youngest of all the clans, has killed dozens of Reborns all over the world for the cause of the Covenant. And now, the moment I come to you and expect your grievance for an innocence child who died by my hand, you want us to kill a supposed Awakened Reborn; something we aren’t even sure exists. Regardless, it’s a mission that is far more dangerous than we can handle. So tell me, Father, how am I supposed to go to my clan and tell them that instead of rest and relaxation after their labor, Lucian, our lord god, offers them certain death from one of those faith monsters?” I said with fury.

  “This is what the Great Spirit wants, my son. You are the Promised Child as prophesied by our ancestor Naiche, and our lord god won’t allow anything to happen to you.”

  “That’s not the point, Father!” I lashed out.

  “It was my understanding that your clan wants to take a break, but to do that they will have to execute this Awakened Reborn. Do this and you won’t have to hunt till the fall season. You have my word, son.”

  “We don’t even know if the Awakened Reborns exist. We have never fought one in combat. Those missions are for your clan, other elite and single-digit warriors, and the bounty hunters of the Spirit clan. Not us. We are mere teenagers with little to no experience compared to others. I alone wouldn’t be stupid enough to take one on in combat.”

  “Then this mission will become your test of faith. You and your clan have no say in the matter. Deserters will be hunted down like dogs. Will you defile our people, me, or Lucian himself?”

  “Everything I have done has been for our lord and the Covenant. Don’t mistake a loyal warrior for a fool, Father.”

  “Then kill the Awakened Reborn in Blackfalls. You have one month. And when you return with the head of the one, you will have my blessing to leave Red Valley without trial and do what you will. You have my word, Bodaway.”

  As he began to walk away, back into the darkness and the shadows of the temple, I said to him, “You think very hard of your words, Father, because I will hold you to it.” Then he froze and eyed me with hesitation. “My word is of my clan. They are who matter most to me, and once we return with the head of this Awakened Reborn, I’m finished.”

  “Finished, you say?”

  “Yes, finished. I don’t want what you want for me. It’s my life, not yours, to live,” I said vehemently and picked up the sheet of white paper.

  I stormed out of the Temple of Naiche with the paper crumbled up in my right hand. I opened it. The name of the Awakened Reborn we were supposed to kill wasn’t the senator and father of the family.

  It was someone named Natalie Grace Schultz.

  2

  The Awakened Reborn Girl

  I FELT AN OUTBURST OF anger from my father’s inconsiderate command. It was as if he had willingly led me to fight a monster of great power, something horrible and unbeatable. A legendary Reborn with great amount of faith was overwhelming compared to my own dark energy. My clan wasn’t ready for this kind of trial. My displeasure at my father’s orders crawled beneath my skin. Even though Lucian had willed it, Father could have given the hunt to another clan. It was puzzling.

  I was sure my brother, Lyonell Lakota, wouldn’t have minded taking on an Awakened Reborn. He had always wanted to kill one. Now was his chance—but it was my order to execute, not his. Why hadn’t Father given him the hunt instead of me?

  As I walked out of the dark sanctuary and down the red stone steps, I scuffed my feet and leapt to the ground in a fuss. My long hair brushed the sides my face as I shoved the dust from my scalp. It was still nightfall, and more people were walking the streets of Red Valley. I could hear the faint music of a flute and one of the medicine men singing the old songs of our ancestors. Others drank wine and ate as they hung out around a bonfire. Warriors celebrated as each clan returned from a different hunt. But not us—we were being sent back out to be slaughtered like sheep.

  James and Aaron stood near the fountain, drinking water and eating a piece of medium-cooked meat on a stick. It looked like deer meat from afar. They laughed and conversed about something, but the smile on Aaron’s face fueled my anger even more. Because of him, the small boy had burned to death. I figured he was giggl
ing about my failed attempt to let the pastor go and come back another day.

  I marched over with the intent to fight him. I smacked the deer meat from Aaron’s hand. Then, taking him by surprise, I pushed him to the ground. His eyes grew enormous and he tried to retaliate, but James stepped in between us, dropping his cup of water.

  “What the heck, man?” Aaron questioned.

  “That’s for making me kill that small boy,” I said fearsomely. James pushed us back from each other.

  “That’s enough, you two!” James ordered.

  “Well, if you would have done your job as our leader, then I wouldn’t have had to step in and try to kill the man for you!”

  “You—” I roared, but James interrupted me.

  “I said stop, Bodaway! Calm down. Let’s put this behind us. We’re family, remember.”

  “Whatever just don’t pull that crap again,” I said to Aaron as I pointed my finger in his face. His eyes popped wide open, and then he began to pace. He wanted to push me back but held in his rage. He couldn’t harm me; I was an elite, a single-digit warrior, number nine of the Covenant—one of the best of my people.

  “Now that we got the anger issue out of the way, what did Chief Torah say?” James asked as he grabbed another cup from a white plastic sack and poured some water into it by manipulating the water from the fountain. He was the element of water.

  I opened the crumbled sheet of paper and gave it to James as he sipped. Aaron leaned next to him to see the name written in red ink:

  Natalie Grace Schultz

  K

  “What’s this?” James asked. “It’s just a name written in red ink.”

  “It’s our new hunt. Father wants us to kill an Awakened Reborn.”