Hehaka Luta - The Red Elk (Private)

Roland Heimdall was to metal and machines and any moving part what John Greywolf was to the world of Shamanism and natural magic. He didn’t look like a true master of anything dressed in dirty pants and a shirt full of holes, but there was no one with more knowledge of engineering then when it came to Roland. Wahkan was thinking this as he stepped off the Siang Tien Tang in the middle of the desert of Bikanel just a few feet from a small shack that didn’t look big enough to turn around in. He was also wondering how he got out here in the middle of this waste land about to go live with a man whose son he killed in a fight years ago. It was a life he’d rather forget, a life he had no control over.

It was all because of that rusted out frame of an old motorcycle he had come across in Midgar. He wasn’t sure how, but somehow John had found a shop with an old frame for an old school motorcycle just waiting to be picked up. It was all way to coincidental for the big man to swallow, smelled like to much of a setup, and when the Shaman had mentioned Roland was the only one able to get the bike going again well that just sold it. Wahkan told him there was no way was he going to spend any time with Roland Heimdall, there were things between the two that just needed to stay buried. Wahkan was serious. He walked away from the shop and the bike frame and it all for a whole week.

But some things you don’t walk away from. Some things burrow under your skin, dig into your insides, and take hold of your dreams. Wahkan wasn’t sure what it was about the old bike frame but it put a mark on him and refused to let go. When he slept, and it was damn little during that week, his dreams were filled with a powerful roar of a motorcycle engine and a red Elk running through the woods, running free toward the mountains. He held out for the whole week, all seven days, but in the end there was nothing to do but go back. The dreams wouldn’t die or go away unless Wahkan did what he wanted nothing to do with in the first place.

The rusted frame was still there. The owner of the shop chewed on his bottom lip in anticipation. He might finally be able to get rid of that eye sore in the backroom. John Greywolf stood just far enough away to let Wahkan feel alone yet not be alone. The choice had to be the large man’s, had to be hi and his alone. All he did was stare at the rusted frame before moving to put the Gil on the table to buy it. Wahkan didn’t say a word to anyone as to what made him chose to finally end his holdout. John never asked his why either, only made sure the now happy shop owner shipped the frame to Roland’s underground desert home in Bikanel.

Now, standing out in the middle of a whole lot of sand Wahkan sighed as Roland stepped out of the shack and stared at him.

“How long you been waiting?” Roland asked without an ounce of caring n his voice.

The cold reception didn’t bother Wahkan, he didn’t expect too much of a warm welcome when it came to Roland. The only real reason he was here was on the Siang Tien Tang watching from the rail, well, not the only one. There was the frame that had been delivered two days prior, that damn frame that kept him up at night.

“Not long enough to get a tan but just the right amount to think twice. ” Wahkan replied just as cold.

The tension was like steel. It formed a three foot thick wall between the two men. Roland stared back for a minute then spit into the sand, a brown blob of tobacco juice that stuck right where it landed. Wahkan eyed it for a moment then turned back to the master engineer. “We don’t have to do this. I ain’t asking for your help. ”

“And I’m not giving it to you. The Shaman seems to think I need to put that pile of rusted scrap back together. Maybe it’ll help me move on in my life or something.”

“So you’re doing this for you?” Wahkan asked brusquely.

Roland ignored the question, even the underlying intent, and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Everything we need is downstairs so that’s where I’m headin’.”

“You just gonna leave me up here all by myself?” Wahkan asked brusquely again.

“Hopin’ if I give you enough chances you’d just leave.” Roland responded for the last time before disappearing into the shadows of the shack.

Wahkan didn’t move at first. He stood still as the small swirling clouds of sand circled him. This wasn’t going to work he thought turning to look back at John on the deck of the Siang Tien Tang. How was this supposed to work when the two of them could barely stand to be around each other? It’d be like two dogs stuck in pit, both waiting for the other to blink and neither doing much moving cause that just exposed you for an attack. Wahkan looked at his friend, the one who saved him from Enyo’s clutches, and felt like screaming at him. How were they supposed to do this?

But he didn’t. He just nodded to John and the Shaman nodded back. Then the Junk took the sky and Wahkan watched it leave before turning to go inside. He never wanted to walk back on the ship, just wanted to ask how the hell he was supposed to live with Roland for the next few…weeks? Months?

How?

The large man entered the shack and stopped to let his eyes adjust to the sudden dark. After a minute or two his vision returned enough to see the shack was just a façade. Beneath his feet was metal, a large floor of it, and rising up about two feet off of it was a hatch, a large circular entrance in the metal floor with a ladder leading down into the realm of Roland.

It was a moment of truth, turn back or go forward.

Wahkan smiled then started down the ladder.

Nafeesa snuck off the Junk just before John Greywolf sent off the sour giant Wahkan. I was never sure why she wanted to go and stay with Roland, it was going to be nothing but two men staring at each other with daggers in their eyes, yet she had asked very nicely the night before and I have such a hard time saying no to her. I gave a small wave to Nafeesa as she disappeared down the hatch to Roland’s bunker before slipping below decks on the Junk.



The bunker world of Roland Heimdall was dark mysterious world, smelly in most of the places and plain scary in others, but to Nafeesa it was a land of magic. She had never been to a place like this. One room was a work space with benches and tools everywhere, and she knew because she had been through every drawer in every tool chest. Another room had a pit filled with some heated foul smelling liquid that bubbled every minute with a big GLOOP. Nafeesa took one sniff and decided that room was not a very nice place to be but she would come back if the others did. Nafeesa just explored walking along the small halls as if this was her house and she had permission to look everything over. She found the sleeping quarters and was not sure which one she would choose tonight, probably Wahkan’s. He might get mad at her and say something cruel when she lay down but she would forgive him in the end. She knew he did not mean anything harmful. It was just big old Wahkan’s way.

He protected her like mistress Keiko.

She walked along quietly and soon she found the room where that old frame was being stored. She padded up to it and knelt running a hand along its rusted tubes feeling the scared metal. Nafeesa was not sure what caused the frame to brown and flake like it was doing now, but as her fingers made the smallest connection to it her body felt a small charge, just a tiny jolt. It was like once when she was in the city, one of the many she had been exploring, and there had been a thunder storm. The lightning from the maelstrom had touched down somewhere close because all of the sudden she felt its touch run along her legs tickling her stomach. This was kind of like that only on a different level sort of. Nafeesa thought about the day John had brought the frame on board his air ship and the look Wahkan had on his face. He looked so confused and…scared. She had never seen him scared and it had made her feel a little fearful for just a minute.

Was he scared of this little jolt? How could such a big brave human be afraid of something-

“Umm, I guess your Wahkan’s guest,” a voice said from behind.

Nafeesa stood up and turned to see a human with a torn oily shirt and pants standing in the door way to the room. Then she saw Wahkan standing behind him and the large man looked very upset and angry. Why Nafeesa had no idea, she smiled and waved to him.

“Hi Wahkan, guess what, I’m staying with you.”

No Way.

Uh-huh.

Not Going to Happen.

All those responses came to Wahkan’s mind but none of them seemed to match the intensity of how much he did not want Nafeesa to be here. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Nafeesa, hell he loved the little thing, it was just this was not the place or time to be hanging around. This was a homecoming of sorts, that’s if your definition of coming home meant fighting and kicking and doing a whole bunch of cussing between two people. He had come here at John’s urging, as adamant a request as the Shaman could make, to confront his past with Roland. When you kill a man it’s hard enough to live with but when you take the life of a man’s son the price of living take son a new meaning and coming back to look that man in the eyes, there’s no price tag for that.

“What are you thinking? ” Wahkan yelled at her.

The Mithra just cocked her head to her right shoulder and was about to respond when the quiet giant roared cutting her off.

“No, you’re not stayin one minute longer. We'll call John and he'll come get you.”

“Now wait a minute- “Roland began before Wahkan cut him off.

“Uh-huh Roland, she’s not staying, not when you and I have busi- “

If Wahkan had ever been looking down a bigger barrel of a gun it sure wasn’t anything like what was being pointed at him at the moment as Roland yelled back not stepping down one bit to the giant. “This is my damn place and it’s my damn decision on who damn well stays so if she wants to stay damn it she’s gonna stay. ”

“Oh, you finally getting your back up Roland are you?” Wahkan spat.

“You’re damn straight and if you want to conclude our business, personal and otherwise, then take your pack and hit the damn trail!” The engineer scowled pointing a finger.

Well, that just tore it. Wahkan locked eyes with Roland as red painted his vision. No one, even the ones you a debt to, speak to you like that and walk. Wahkan had some pride and he was hell sure no small man like Roland Heimdall was going to go walking all up and down it. No sir, if this was his damn place and he decided who going to stay then by all that was holy in this hole he was going to get out and leave.

“Get your bags Nafeesa. We’re long gone from this place. ” Wahkan ordered.

If the giant was thinking this was going to be easy then he was wrong because the second he gave the order Nafeesa shook her head. She smiled her warm beautiful smile all the while defiantly telling Wahkan ‘No’ to his command and from the easy look of her body she had no intention of leaving. If it had been anyone else, from John to Keiko to Roland himself, Wahkan would have had no qualm knocking some sense into their heads. But with little Nafeesa, that wasn’t going to happen and Roland could see the giant wasn’t going to do a damn thing. He let out a cackle and looked to Nafeesa with a smile.

“Never thought I’d see someone take this big mountain down, hell young lady you can stay as long as you want.”

Damn, Wahkan said with a sigh, this was going to be a long trip.

The reaction by Wahkan took Nafeesa by surprise for a moment. She had thought he’d be happy to see her and then to learn she would stay with him, well he might be a little more excited. Then again the giant was not the most excited person she had come across in all her wanderings. She had seen men fall off of chairs and walk into walls, dazed and enthralled with her dancing so much they forget where they were momentarily. This made her happy most of all, to make others so happy when she danced that they forgot about their troubles was the best feeling in the whole world to her. Only it did seem weird they did this when she wore her really small tight costumes or no costume at all. Now that really did make people walking to things.

“Thank you Mr. Roland, your place here is really interesting.” Nafeesa replied smiling and looking around.

“Why thank you…Nafeesa is it?” Roland winked at her.

“Yeah, what is that pool filled with in the other room? It really stinks.” She said waving her hand in front of her face.

Roland smiled and launched into an extensive explanation filled with long scientific words about the process of creating steel alloy and how if the heating and cooling process that caused crystallization were monitored more accurately and then if you, blah, blah, blah. It soon just turned into a mash of droning as Nafeesa lost all interest in what Mr. Roland was saying or trying nicely to tell her. It wasn’t his fault; she just was not that interested in the whole thing. Still, to be nice, Nafeesa nodded and acted like she was listening intently to him. When he was done she smiled and nodded.

“That sounds…nice. Are you and Wahkan going to work on the bike…together?”

“Well,” the engineer sighed, “I guess since John made me promise to give Wahkan a chance I’d better give it to him.”

“What happened to cause you two to hate each other so much?” Nafeesa asked quickly, maybe a little much so. The look both men shot her made her feel like she just made a huge blunder. She hated that feeling most of all, feeling stupid.
Finally Roland stepped up and told her what was between him and Wahkan and as he talked Nafeesa could sense the pain in the man’s voice. “It’s about my boy, Ryland. He was…killed by Wahkan years ago in a fight. We don’t see eye to eye on why it happened you could say which is why we don’t spend much time together.”

“Oh, but you still invited him to stay here while you work on the motorcycle, right?”

“I didn’t invite him, that shaman John Greywolf made me promise to work with him on the bike, some drivel about how facing our past would save our future.” Roland shot back.

Nafeesa bit her lower lip. “John is smart and cuddly at times, so maybe he’s right. Maybe if you two were to try and talk you could be friends?”

As soon as the words were out the Mithra knew she had blundered again. She really hated feeling stupid.

Wahkan didn’t say a single word to Nafeesa or Roland as they walked to the room where the rusted bike frame sat unceremoniously on the floor. When the trio arrived they all stood just inside the pressurized door staring at the hunk of metal, almost examining it. Wahkan was still stewing over something Roland had said and wasn’t really thinking of the next step because he didn’t really know what the next step was. Nafeesa was just happy to be alongside someone, she didn’t like being alone too much, and Roland…well he was off in his own little world.

A few minutes ticked off life’s clock when Wahkan had had enough of the quiet. “Well, what’s next Roland?”

“Oh, yeah, we’ll need to scrape the frame down and see how bad the rust has eaten at the metal. We might have to replace any weak spots.”

“ Your going to have replace the frame? Wahkan asked. The sound of shock and concern so strong in his voice is made Nafeesa turn to look at him with her worried look.

“I can replace small sections here and there, but if the oxidation has gone too far in doing its job then it’s a total loss. We’ll have to scrap this frame and make a new one from some molly I have in the back.” Roland explained.

Wahkan shook his head though speaking low. “It’ll be fine…she’ll be fine.

The engineer just shrugged his shoulders and walked over setting his mind to the task ahead. Wahkan followed with his own intentions of saving the frame, for whatever reason he wasn’t sure of yet. He just knew this was the right thing to do for now, the next step. Nafeesa walked over to a chair and sat in it drawing her knees up to her chest and silently watched the pair as they got ready to work. She liked people watching, it was interesting to her to see how people went about their daily lives. Roland took out a pair of thick work gloves and then handed a pair to Wahkan along with some goggles and as the giant was putting the protective equipment on the engineer pulled out two large disc sanders attached by cords to a large generator. Roland kicked the big beast on with a hit of a switch then turned to Wahkan and yelled out.

“I made these pads on the sanders, should do the trick in less time, just don’t go too deep and we’ll be fine.”

“How far is too ‘deep’?” Wahkan asked yelling back over the sound of the generator.

“If you see daylight then you’ve gone too damn far!” Roland cackled like a mad man gunning the sander with two quick pulls of the trigger. “You start at the head, I’ll take the ass, and we’ll meet in the middle of this hog.”

“Hey,” Wahkan snarled nodding to Nafeesa, “take it easy, we got a lady here you know.”

“Oh damn, sorry about that, forgot and all.” Roland laughed again before starting down by the end of the frame.

Wahkan just shook his head and started off at the head of the frame where the forks would go, if there were forks. The pair worked diligently and slowly making sure to clean the frame of the rust and oxidation as well as they could. Nafeesa sat watching intently never hearing the remark Roland had made. She knew the old frame would be okay too, only she was not sure why.

Just what they were doing with all the grinding and sanding with those big disc thing-a-majigs was a total loss of Nafeesa. She was just a simple Mithra, a dancer who liked to make people smile. All this stuff with molly frames and heat coefficients and crystal-watchamacallits was like a totally different language. In truth, it made her head spin like one of those tops the small ones play with in the streets, round and round and round.

Yet sitting her in the chair with her knees pulled up to her chest Nafeesa was more than intrigued at just watching Wahkan and Roland. The way the two interacted, worked, told more about them then words could. Take the fact one started at the front of the frame and the other end if it. Yeah it looked like the easiest way to complete the job of doing whatever it was they needed to do, but if you watched really carefully you could see another reason. They didn’t want to be next to each other at all much less any longer than they had to be. They acted like they didn’t even want to be in the same room alone and yet here they were working together on an old rusted bike frame. From what Keiko had passed to her in their nightly pillow talk over the last several weeks Wahkan was a man in self-exile. He had practically cut himself off from any contact, human or otherwise, after something that had happened in his past, something dark and sinister Keiko whispered. John was the only one he would talk with for the longest time and then sparingly. Whatever Wahkan was punishing himself over it involved a man named Roland, which is why when she found out they were going to see him Nafeesa got very excited. She had lain awake still excited listening to Keiko sleep while her own curiosity made her mind run amok with question after question. What had happened to Wahkan? What did he do that was so bad to Roland? The questions just kept popping in no matter how hard she tried to keep them out.

And now, the pair was standing in the room working on the old bike frame. How could a hunk of metal do what John Greywolf couldn’t do, get Wahkan to try and move on. Of all the humans she had run into the shaman was as big a mystery as Wahkan’s past. He was nice, respected her, and super sexy with that long white hair but trying to figure him out was worse than trying to understand Roland and his talk about the bike frame. She really hated it when John answered questions with old sayings and mind numbing riddles, like he expected her to go and think about what he said. Didn’t he understand all she wanted was the answer and working for it was just too much work?

She would have to try and watch him closer, maybe sneak into his bed and watch him sleep. You could tell a lot about someone from watching them sleep and dream. She knew this because she didn’t like to sleep alone.

As the last of the grinding and sanding came to an end on the frame Wahkan looked down and had a strange thought, a vision John Greywolf would say if he were here. The giant didn’t believe in those things, magic and such or maybe a better thing was to say he refused to accept them in his life anymore. Visions, spells, and magic were the root of all the evil that had come to his life and Wahkan wanted nothing to do with any of them anymore.

Only you can’t outrun visions, spells, and magic when it’s buried so deep in your life. He pulled down the mask that kept the dangerous particles and dust that came from all the grinding out of his lungs and stared at the frame. It was gouged her and there where the oxidation from the rust had done its work carving out small divots in the tubes. He told himself back in the shop there was nothing to do to save the beast, it was a goner, and yet here the damn thing sat on Roland’s bench fighting for its life and here he stood helping it to its feet.

“Hehaka Luta,” he whispered to no one but himself and the best. Wahkan didn’t even realize he had named the bike yet.

“What was that?” Roland yelled back.

Wahkan shook his head lost and spoke defensively. “What was what?”

“You said something, just wondering what it was?” Roland responded dropping the sander back onto the table with a thud. It was easy to see the engineer assumed it was something about his work or maybe his workshop.

“I didn’t say anything,”Wahkan spat throwing his sander down.

“Yeah you did! Listen, if you’re not liking the way we’re going you can damn well do this yourself,” Roland shot back curtly.

The large man took a deep inhale of air ready to let go of a curse filled tirade when he caught sight of Nafeesa out of his peripheral vision. She was still sitting in the chair watching everything just as intently as he was fighting with Roland. She was staring at him, a look in her eyes that made Wahkan suddenly rethink his tirade. He turned back to Roland and spoke as calmly as he could do. “You’re the expert here. We’ll do it the way you say do it.”

Roland must have been ready for fight. Hell he was probably just looking for an excuse to toss me out Wahkan thought because as soon as the large man opted out the engineer looked even more upset. He looked even angrier that he couldn’t be angry at something. He spit to his left then turned back to the large man speaking but obviously not saying what he really wanted to. “We’ll have to patch the holes and then clean everything before we begin to strengthen what’s left with the baths in back.”

“All right, I need to step out for some water.” Wahkan agreed when you could tell he didn’t really want to.

As the large man left the room Roland turned to put up the sanders and get the tools needed to patch and fill the holes in the frame. Both forgot about Nafeesa sitting in the chair, or at least one of them did for the moment.

Nafeesa sat quietly on the chair still thinking and wondering. When she saw Roland walk back in she decided it was time to get some information, a back story to all this anger and hatred.

“What do you think he said?”

“Huh,” Roland shrugged looking up from his workbench, “Wahkan? Hell, he was probably just spouting off at the mouth, has a tendency to do that sometimes.”

The explanation was supposed to be the end of it, no more words on the subject of the giant. Only no one told Nafeesa and she had made the decision to go forward. She stood up and walked over to the table while speaking.

“[color=green]I don’t think so. I haven’t known Wahkan long, not like you or John, but I do know he’s not one to mumble when he’s giving you his opinion.”

“Yeah, maybe, so what?” Roland asked back beginning to tire of the questions.

“He said something and then denied saying it, when has Wahkan ever done that?” Nafeesa asked leaning over and sniffing a tool Roland brought out.

“Listen young lady, it may be polite to ask a hundred questions about nothing, but down here in my home that don’t fly, understand?” The engineer stated hoping his bluntness was not lost on the girl.

It seemed to have an effect, the wrong one.

She looked up and smiled. “I like asking questions, it’s the only way you find anything out, and you want to know what I think?”

“About what, Wahkan?” Roland sighed.

“I think it’s the frame, its doing something to him.”

Roland shook his head and pointed to the bike frame in question. “How could a hunk of metal make a man change?”

“I didn’t say it was changing him. I’m not sure what’s going on but something is going on.” Nafeesa explained.

“Well that’s fine young lady, think what you will, but for now I have to weld in some patches and if you don’t mind handing me my tools I can get that done.” Roland said holding out his hand.

Nafeesa had picked up a tool without even thinking about it so she handed it to the human with a small smile. She watched as Roland readied a small tool with a long pair of cables that ran to a large box in the corner of the shop. She even jumped a bit when he turned it on and there was a pop.

“What was that?”

“The tip heating up,”

“Oh, that was scary.”

“Uh-huh,” Roland said absently not caring for the conversation anymore.

“You know what I really wonder though, why did you agree to take him in…and the frame?”

“Told you, John Greywolf asked me to help out and I said sure thing.”

That wasn’t it, not the real reason Nafeesa thought. She had heard men lie before and Roland was lying about what he was looking for. Well, maybe he wasn’t out right lying, but he sure was hiding why he let Wahkan back in here. Whatever happened between the two must have been really bad which made Nafeesa just that much more curious about it.

With the water cleansing his raw throat Wahkan returned to the shop to see what was going to be next and there he found Roland carefully welding small pieces of metal to the frame to fix the holes the rust had eaten through. The way he was working it looked as if he was trying to run away from something then the giant looked over and saw Nafeesa, who waved at him and smile, and it wasn’t hard to guess what had taken place. The Mithra had grown so curious she had started asking questions and as always that was the end of it. Roland had no more patience than Wahkan, probably less, and when Nafeesa gets on a roll it’s like being in front of an avalanche.

“How’s it looking?” Wahkan asked walking over.

“We should be good. None of the holes are big enough to cause any structural integrity problems, more of an eye sore than anything else. I’ll patch them up and then tin ‘em, we’ll need to hold off for on the baths till morning to make sure the patches hold.” Roland said holding off starting a new weld bit not turning back to look at the man while speaking.

“That sounds promising,” Wahkan nodded.

“Yep,” was all Roland replied with before turning back to work.

The exchange sure was a lot more pleasant than the one just a moment before, guess Roland had run enough of talking with Nafeesa Wahkan thought. They sat in quiet as the master of metal as some called the engineer finished up the small patches to the frame. Wahkan helped with one last sanding to ensure there were no burrs or imperfections. As they worked neither Roland or the giant offered any words and neither did Nafeesa, it was only when they were done did the engineer finally speak. “First thing tomorrow we give the frame a quick dip to ready it for the baths and then we see if it can pass the next test.”

“She’ll pass just fine,” Wahkan pointed out with a quickness.

“Really, well you keep the faith because if the tubes crack anywhere along the major welds it’ll finish this project in its tracks.” Roland explained while pointing to the frame.

The giant just shook his head. “I have faith, in the frame and your hands Roland.”

The last struck the engineer like a slow bullet from a really large gun. He actually looked to Wahkan stunned and was speechless for a moment or two yet before he could respond to the surprise trust placed in him Wahkan had already left the room heading for his bunk. The giant needed to lie down and rest, to sort out his confused head. He didn’t even get undressed when he hit his quarters, just stripped to the waist and plopped down into the cot that would be his bed. As Wahkan closed his eyes the vision came back fresh and forceful. He was no longer human, but something wild and free running through the deep woods of a dank green forest. The morning mist had gathered round his legs, four large strong limbs that propelled him over and through the underbrush. His heart pounded with life as he sprinted-

A sudden knock broke the dream and snapped Wahkan out of his slight sleep. He grumbled knowing who it was and why they were there so when he threw open the door to his room it was a little surprising to see no one there at all.

Nafeesa danced to the music in her head, the unknown tune she made up note by each with each beat of her heart and sway of her spirit. Her hips swayed and gyrated nimbly as the beat of the music was fast and then slowed as the tune drew down. She spun on her toes making slow circles with outstretched arms in a majestic beautiful pose before dropping to a low squat while gyrating her hips again. This was her dance and she did it for no one else but her. She did it to let the day’s worries and stress and just bad feelings slip away in the sultry movements.

She missed Keiko. She had wanted to come on this trip with Wahkan, to help him with whatever it was that was causing him pain. To see someone hurting was the worst to Nafeesa and if she could stop that pain for just a moment she had to do it. There was no other choice she could live with. Yet helping Wahkan meant leaving Keiko and being away from the sky pirate now when the relationship was so fresh and new…it was harder than Nafeesa thought it would be.

The music is her head changed again to a more melodic tune and her wanton dance turned to a more refined ballet. She moved rhythmically slowly kicking and turning with small jumps. In the size of the underground room she was calling home that was quite a feat. Nafeesa thought about an hour earlier when she had knocked on the door to Wahkan’s room meaning to talk with him and then bolting down the hall when she got scared. She didn’t know what to say and even if she did she didn’t know how to say it to Wahkan. The man was like a giant rock. You could hit it and nothing would happen, but give it just the wrong push and whoops, it would roll right over you. So not wanting to be in the path of a rolling boulder in case she said something wrong Nafeesa ran for her room.

The music changed again and dance did too. The beat sped up and she moved to it with harder and quicker moves. Her hips snapped as did her arms and hands. Her breathing was ragged with the effort as sweat rolled down her nose. Her thoughts turned to the motorcycle frame and more specifically to what Wahkan had said. She didn’t hear what he said but it was about the bike that she knew for sure. Whatever that ragged piece of metal held over him it had to be strong because she could feel it when she touched it. That otherworldly sensation that made her tingles like a newborn. There was magic in the frame, a strange mild magic that drew you in.

Now the music was reaching its crescendo and Nafeesa let her body go and just live with it. She danced like never before rising and falling with each silent pulse. Then with a snap her body dropped to the floor and remained still.

The music was done and so we her dance…for now.

This was the test.

This was the moment when either the stress of a fight would break you or you used that stress to survive to see another day. The secret to life is not winning a fight but knowing how to come out on the other end in a piece that was still able to function. Wahkan had been told long ago by a wise man who was not named John Greywolf that scar tissue was stronger than flesh and the minute you realize that you were stronger for it. You could move on. You could survive.

Wahkan was thinking that when Roland was getting the frame setup in the harness which was attached to the chain lift in the ceiling. The metallurgist was about to start the process of hardening the steel alloy frame which required several dips in two types of chemical bathes. The first was a super hot concoction of Roland’s making, a soupy sludge that reeked so bad it burned the hair right of your nose from a twenty foot distance. That’s probably why he made Wahkan and Nafeesa wear special breathing devices so they could stay in the room and watch. Wahkan actually demanded to be n the room. He didn’t want the frame to be out of his sight for a minute. This dip would be the first fight the frame would have to survive. The sludge would infuse itself all along the metal, seep into every microscopic opening and crack with its chemicals. That alone could damage the welds on the frame, but add the heat and the expansion it would cause at that microscopic level and it would be a fight.

Scar tissue…it’s stronger than flesh.

The second bath didn’t smell any better and it glowed like some kind of ethereal light. There were pipes and tubes all coiled around the large metal tub. Roland told them this was how he kept the second bath cold, super cool actually. That was the secret to his process. By heating the metal first and then cooling it right away the metal would crystallize at the level we never see and thus become stronger and denser. Only, this was where the frame would be hit with the worst stress it would ever see. Any defective or compromised weld would pop instantly. Any surface crack that did not take to the sludge from the first bath would simply split wide open in the cold of this bath.

This was the test…scar tissue is stronger.

“You ready to start?” Roland called out to Wahkan.

The giant didn’t respond. He looked at the frame and just kept thinking scar tissue is stronger than flesh. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked down into the kind eyes of Nafeesa. Maybe it was the looks she gave him that feed him from his trance, or maybe it was the frame telling him it was okay. Time to get moving on it told him.

“Let’s get moving. She’ll do just fine.”

Roland only nodded and pushed the button on the control for the lift.

The frame slowly descended into the first bath, the metal tubing disappearing agonizingly below the foul smelling liquid inch by inch. Nafeesa found herself strangely caught up in the strange tension that gripped the three humanoids in the room. The frame’s subtle magic had totally enveloped her, pulled her in, and now she felt her heart race as she waited to see if it passed the first test. Suddenly she was so invested in the frame and if it would make it through the steps Roland would do to make it strong again that she felt her nerves fraying just slightly. How she got to this point Nafeesa had no clue, all she wanted was for the frame to be intact and safe. It had to be the strange mild bewitchment, a ‘pulling’ effect that drew you in ever so subtlety, and she wasn’t the only one the frame had captured.

Wahkan was obvious. The giant of stone had been so far removed from his usual persona since he and the shaman had found the frame it was scary to her. It was concern that made her had knock on his door last night and it was even more concern that made her run away. Keiko had told her about Wahkan’s past, the parts she knew of, and it sounded so painful it made her heart hurt. She had been kidnapped, threatened, and beaten by the ones she had trusted at times. People who had hired her to dance for them abruptly turning into mean spirited individuals with malice in their eyes. Those times were her lowest; when it seemed the world she was on had made a personal pledge to see her broken. Nafeesa felt a kinship to the giant which is where the concern came from for him, but where did it come from for the frame?

Roland, yeah he was worried about the frame too. He tried to hide behind all his technical words and act like he was just troubled about his calculations. She could tell the engineer was just as worried as she by the way he kept fidgeting at the controls of the chain pull, his thumb twitching over the buttons. She could see him silently counting, keeping track of the time the frame was submerged. The real mystery was why Roland was enthralled, what did the frame mean to him? He was helping Wahkan, an enemy or at the least someone he’d rather shoot then give a hand too. So what was he feeling when he touched the frame?

How much time slipped off the clock and out of her life Nafeesa wasn’t sure, but suddenly Roland was calling out while running the controls on the chain pull. “Here we go, time to see if she made it.”

Nafeesa put a hand to her mouth to bite a nail as the frame popped out of the goo and into the open. She smiled as it looked okay, but then Roland reached out and hooked it to pull it over for a closer inspection.

Now it was time to see of the frame was still strong.

Hard cold eyes looked over every inch of the steaming metal tubing of the frame. Wahkan and Roland examined every millimeter of the alloy of the frame looking for any defect or crack that would compromise its integrity. Not only were the welds checked, rechecked, and triple checked and even the spots that looked good before the bath were checked. There was not a microscopic section of the frame that didn’t get looked at closely. No one spoke during the examination either with only shallow breathing and the bubbling vat echoing in the room.

“I don’t see anything do you?” Roland asked as his eyes still checked the frame meticulously.

“I don’t see any cracks anywhere and it looks like the welds held.” Wahkan replied as his eyes also swept over the frame.

The engineer smiled just a little. “Your damn right the welds held, cause I did em’”

“Uh-huh old man,” Wahkan shot back with a little dig before stepping back, “told you she’d do just fine.”

Roland stepped back next to him and started up the pull chain motor again with the remote while speaking up to be heard above the noise. “Yeah you did, but the cold bath is next and it’ll show us just how tough she’s going to be.”

Wahkan only nodded never taking his eyes of the frame. She’s going to be fine he told himself, just fine because scar tissue was stronger than flesh and lord knows the frame had more than few scars. Not as many as he carried, but she had her own that was for sure, and yet here she was stronger than ever and fighting he way back to life. As the frame slowly spun in a circle hanging above the second bath the giant wondered about his past, started to see the parallel between the frame and him. Enyo had left him broken and battered when John saved his soul, a wreck of a life, and yet here he stood getting back what he lost a little every day. He had been through his own hell and come out the other end scared but stronger and so would Hehaka Luta.

“What’d you say?” Roland suddenly screamed.

“What, did I say something?” Wahkan asked snapping out of his trance.

“Now don’t start that up again!” Roland said with a shake of his head. “I got enough to worry bout you know.”

The giant smiled, a total deviation from his usual stoic takes no bull stance and spoke. “Just make sure Hehaka Luta doesn’t freeze all right?”

The engineer laughed and pointed to the vat while replying. “Aw, she’s a tough old wench, ain’t nothin’ gonna break her!”

Gone was the animosity of the day before and the days long gone by as the pair watched the frame slowly dip beneath the chemical bath. They stood watch over the bath like a couple of proud expecting fathers, each smiling and waiting with anticipation. Behind them Nafeesa watched noting it all as she always did with her own smile.

Sitting there watching the frame descend into the cold chemical bath suddenly reminded Nafeesa of a time in her life she had really tried to forget. It was just after she left home and set out to see all the worlds and all they could offer. It was before she realized not everyone everywhere enjoyed a young kitten and the questions she could ask. She had made it to the small town of Crescent totally broke and without a hope in her heart. The travels had been harder let’s say and Nafeesa wasn’t sure where he next meal was going to come from.

There in town she came across the first person who became her first true friend, someone who didn’t mind all the questions and curiosity. There was someone who didn’t leer and undress her with their eyes, though that really didn’t bother that much. It was an older lady who lived in the corner of the village that most if not all had forgotten about or just didn’t care to talk to anymore. Her name was Eliza and she was so much fun once you saw past the old worn face and dirty clothes. Her house wasn’t the nicest and it sure wasn’t the cleanest, but it was four walls and it kept Nafeesa warm on the cold nights she stayed there.

Eliza took her in with no conditions and no rules. What was hers was Nafeesa’s she had said with a smile that missed a few teeth here and there. So the Mithra stayed with the human asking all kinds of questions and Eliza answered them without hesitation. She laughed talking on and on about all those old days in her past and the dancer listened with wide eyed fascination. Eliza never knew it but those days saved her Nafeesa thought. Eliza had been company and had given hope to a downed Mithra when no one else would.

Kind of like Wahkan and the frame, what he called Hehaka Luta. Nafeesa wasn’t sure what that meant, but it had to be a special name. Wahkan whispered it with reverence and pride. That old frame had come along at the right time for giant, had come along just like Eliza and given him hope. It had also reached out and touched Roland and her. It was the small magic she thought.

As a matter of fact Roland stood over the cold chemical bath and watched carefully as the frame sat in the liquid. He kept track of the time and what was happening in the tank with a watchful eye. He suddenly gave signal and started to raise the frame from the tank. Nafeesa felt her heart jump a little with worry as Wahkan strode over and stood next to the engineer. She tensed as they spoke and she couldn’t make out a word. What was happening to the frame, to Hehaka Luta?

Then Wahkan nodded and Roland let out a smile. The frame was fine, had passed the first round of the baths and survived.

It was the small magic she thought as she grinned.

Hours later after the frame had been subjected to more dunks in the hot then cold chemical baths Wahkan stood in the room alone looking at it as it sat in the stand drying, at least he used to be alone. He had felt her quiet approach long before he heard her take a breath. She had guts this little Mithra and it wasn’t from any curiosity. She wasn’t standing there because she was nosy and it wasn’t some morbid fascination. She was a little likes John, compassionate, but she was more like a hammer hitting you in the head when compared to the Shaman.

“I killed his boy, was ordered to do it.” Wahkan whispered. His words echoed in the room and he got the sudden feeling of being in a mausoleum.

There was no answer and really he didn’t expect one. She didn’t want to pry he thought, but she really wanted to know and there was no hiding that. John, or someone like him, said once that confessing was good for the soul. Wahkan wasn’t sure if that was true and deep down inside he didn’t really give a good damn if it was or not. He was solitude, like John, walking this world alone. He didn’t expect friendship and he sure wasn’t holding his breath for it which is why it shocked him all to hell when Nafeesa stepped off the Siang Tien Tang. He stared at the frame noting it looked different, newer and stronger, but still scarred.

Scar tissue is stronger.

“My father was the shaman of my tribe and on the day I was brought into this world I was given the name Wahkan, meaning ‘Sacred’. Everyone assumed I would walk my father’s path but I was never sure and then one day masked men rode into our camp and killed everyone they could. They shot my father and my mother and the Chief and anyone else they found. The only thing that saved me from a bullet that morning was I snuck away on a hunting trip. I should have been at home. I might have saved someone, maybe even my mother or father. “

He looked away from Hehaka Luta finally and to where Nafeesa stood in the doorway. “I gave up any chance of being like John that day. I walked away from being a Shaman or anything like that when I saw my parents lying dead on the ground. I chose the way of the gun, the way of revenge, and it wasn’t long before something found me and took control of me. She’s a demon from the Lower Worlds, a Nightshade by the name of Enyo. She’s every man’s lust and desire and carnal thought rolled up into a pretty package and one day she ordered me to kill a young man name Mikkel.”

The room went quiet again as Wahkan looked one last time to Hehaka Luta before walking over to Nafeesa. “[color=indigo]Mikkel was Roland’s son . I took the man’s only son, his only heir, from this world.[color]”

The story, or more like a confession, moved Nafeesa as she looked at her friend. Yeah, she counted him as a friend even though he treated her cold most of the time. He was like the big brother she never had a chance to know or even talk to. Wahkan was the male influence she craved at times, that rock steady hold in another world she rarely ever saw. He was the firm yin to her crazy yang. He wasn’t John, not by a long shot. Where the shaman was approachable and nice, Wahkan was slightly cold and distant. Where John dispensed an easy to swallow wise word Wahkan just gave you the truth, right between the eyes. She took a breath and whispered.

“We all make mistakes Wahkan, most not as bad as yours, but we do fall down a lot. The trick someone told me once was to get up and keep walking. We can’t let our mistakes make us out to be who we are.”

Nafeesa started to panic a little. She was straying into John’s territory, the easy to swallow wisdom, only she wasn’t wise at all. In a matter of a few seconds she had called a terrible point in her friend’s life, a moment so dark he had buried it for years, a ‘mistake’. That was like telling someone taking a bath they might get a little wet. She chided herself for making such a blunder and hoped what she did next would go over better.

“I meant, you can’t take back what happened Wahkan. You did something terrible, but to lock yourself away from people, it’s not the answer. Keiko told me you were under the influence of some ‘demon’ and she made you do what you did to Mikkel. Blaming you for something like that and keeping people at a distance, it won’t help with the pain or the guilt.”

She looked into his eyes hoping he got what she said. She looked into his eyes then walked over to the frame and knelt by it. Nafeesa stared at its steel pipes and then reached out and touched it gingerly, reverently almost. It was the small magic and it was slowly working to change them all, but could it overcome Wahkan’s past and guilt along with Roland’s stubbornness. It seemed the frame had chosen a task that was more like climbing a mountain, each and every step careful and slow. She wondered if there was enough time to make the men change and the thought made her look over her shoulder at Wahkan. He was gone now, back to his room probably. There was so much pain in his words as his confession popped up in her head again. How was the frame going to take that away?

Her fingers had stayed on the metal frame and there was a sudden pop in the tips that touched the steel, like a shock, and it felt hot. Nafeesa turned back to the frame and made a mental note. It didn’t like being questioned obviuolsy.

Wahkan moved through the halls of the bunker slowly, but with a strong purpose. He wasn’t sure why he told Nafeesa those things about himself, about his past, and in the end it really didn’t matter. Your past was like a mountain, tall and stout against the elements eroding just an inch at a time from day to day. You never could forget about that mountain because the shadow it cast was long and dark sometimes, too long at other times. No matter how hard you tried to get away, get out of that gloom, you never really did. One’s past is the picture of one’s life on these worlds and even though everyone tells you they never judged a soul by that sometimes dark portrait in the back of their minds they sure as hell do, you bet on that. Look back at the mountain and see just how far that shadow falls. The large man was sure all he wanted was his bunk when a voice called from a room he was passing just to his right.

“I heard what you said to the girl,”

It was Roland and Wahkan stopped at the sound of the engineer’s statement. He turned and looked to him not feeling like fighting at the moment. “It was the truth, every last word.”

“Yeah…I know…” Roland whispered. He was holding a cup of what Wahkan thought might be some homebrew the engineer had concocted in a backroom with yards of tubing and a bunch of barrels. Damn stuff would probably knock your shoes right off your feet. “I’ve been running from the past for too long it seems too,”

“You never really get away from what you’ve done no matter how hard you run or how far you go.” Wahkan said turning to face the open door.

It was like someone had opened a door or gate and now it was all coming out, not in a pour but a slow trickle. Roland went on as if what Wahkan had said never touched his ears with a tone that wavered here and there. “Mikkel wasn’t a bad boy, never had a mean bone in his body when he was younger. I should know I raised him from the time he was knee high to my tool box and damn was that boy curious. He wanted to know how everything worked and what everything did. He’d walk around my shop with a tool in his hand all day taking anything apart he could to just get a look inside.”

“Then one day, right out the damn blue you know, he just changed. He didn’t want to know how to make things with his hands anymore, didn’t want to follow in my footsteps. Hell, he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

Wahkan shook his head speaking. “Sons don’t respect their fathers all of the time but we never stop loving them. It’s just a need to make our own way in the worlds, something deep down inside that tells us we need to make our own mark our way.”

The engineer nodded without a response, looked away, then back to Wahkan biting his lower lip. “I can’t forgive you for what happened Wahkan, it ain’t in me yet to do that, understand?”

The large man only nodded then gave one last word before leaving the hall and making his way to his room. “I can’t forgive myself Roland so I’m not expecting you too either.”

Tonight the dance would not come to Nafeesa, not one step no matter how hard she tried to force it out of her soul. It was like a block, a big giant block of really hard stone kept her dance from her. At first she thought it was her mood, the sourness stopping the need to be free. Then she realized something, the block wasn’t because of her mood. She danced to relieve her sour moods. No, this was something all together different. This was something she hadn’t felt before.

This was because of the frame.

Nafeesa knew that was truth as sure as she knew the sun would rise in the morning. The subtle magic changing Wahkan and Roland just a little every day was starting to change her. Only Nafeesa wasn’t sure what was changing in her. What could she possibly need to have the magic alter in her? She was the perfect Mithra. Yes, she was a curious kitten but wasn’t every Mithra you ran across these days a little nosy when it came to new things and people? Yes, she was a free spirit who enjoyed indulging in every whim she felt, but she never crossed the boundary between whim and outright perverse, even when Gil was offered. She helped anyone who needed it even if they didn’t ask for help. There were a lot of people out there in the world who required help and just didn’t know it, a lot more than you’d figure.

So what did the frame want with her?

She thought about that question so hard she started to feel a headache coming on and needed to stop thinking. Nafeesa sighed a little disappointed. She couldn’t dance to get rid of this funk so what was she going to do now? Then another thought came to her. When John had a problem and he didn’t have an answer he meditated and the solution just popped into his head. It was really kind of simple Nafeesa thought with a smile and she quickly pulled the blanket of her cot with excitement and put it on the ground to sit on. She stopped though, froze for just a moment, and then quickly stripped out of clothes. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this naked; did John do it naked she asked herself quietly? Nafeesa blushed a little just then as she thought about the shaman naked in his room sitting in the middle of the floor. It wasn’t a bad image, not bad at all.

She wasn’t sure how to do this and having never mediated before she wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen. So she closed her eyes and just let her mind go blank, no more thinking or anything. She just sat there taking deep long breaths waiting for something to happen and after a moment she fell into a trance. The noises of the room and underground bunker faded. The feel of the blanket on her body faded and the feeling of being connected to this world slipped away as she drifted for a second or two. Then she opened her eyes expecting to see her room again but it wasn’t there.

No, now she was sitting in some forest, in a clearing by a flowing stream that bubbled as the water passed by. The grass she sat on was warmed by the sun which was high overhead. A butterfly floated by and Nafeesa giggled as it did suddenly feeling so happy she could barely contain the emotion. She jumped to her feet feeling the warmth from the grass radiate up her legs to her stomach and then her head. There was a sudden snap of a branch and she looked over to see a large Elk with a bristling wild red hide and a large spread of antlers staring at her. The animal was majestic, the king of forest Nafeesa thought as she watched it slowly lay down just a few feet away.

She stood watching the beautiful beast when the dance came to her, finally breaking through that block of stone that separated the two. It came like an explosion and Nafeesa held nothing back as she let it take her. She danced for the Elk, for herself, and for the feeling of just being free. She leapt and kicked as the dance took her away and the Elk watched her every move.

The next day Wahkan and Roland went to the task and sanding and polishing the frame after it took one last dip to finish the strengthening process, a ‘cleaning’ solution the engineer had said. This was needed to make sure the chemicals from the first baths were washed away and would allow the finish of the paint to adhere. While they worked on removing all the burrs and small left over debris from the frame they let Nafeesa work with the forks taking the metal pair through the strengthening process at Roland’s direction.

A small radio played music from the shelf it sat on as the trio worked diligently and mostly in quiet. Nafeesa ran the winch while dancing just a little and Roland hummed along with the tune while scrubbing the head tube clean. Only Wahkan seemed to be thinking beyond the now while he worked and after a minute he decided to ask a question. “You know Roland, this frame just gained a few pounds…how do you plan on making it move?”

The engineer didn’t stop scrubbing, just slowed his humming and answered. “I got that worked out all ready. I have a special engine in the back room I’ve been toying on for a while and it’ll do just fine for the misses here.”

“The misses?” Nafeesa asked still dancing just a little.

“Oh yeah, there ain’t no man in this frame. It’s all a beautiful lady with long jet black hair and curves that would knock any true rider flat on his a-“Roland was saying when Wahkan cut in.

“This ‘special’ motor, just how special is it?”

“Are you questioning my abilities with the mechanical son?” Roland asked with an air of mocking dismay.

Wahkan looked up finally from his work. “As said ‘true rider’ I do not want to be knocked flat on my ass by more than this lady’s curves, catch my meaning?”

“And just what got you all safety conscious all of the sudden, huh?”

“Seeing it’s my body and soul riding the bike I’d like to know just what exactly makes Hehaka-Luta move.”

“Who’s Hehaka-Luta?” Roland asked confused.

“The bike,”Roland said pointing to the frame.

“Oh, well the motor runs on a new fuel I came up with. It provides more combustibility than a regular fuel, three times before you ask, and that powers a special cam which should put a lot more horsepower to the rear wheel.”

“New fuel…you mean experimental?” Nafeesa asked finally coming to a stop.

“More horsepower to the rear wheel? How much more?” Wahkan asked not trying to hide his concern…or suspicion.

The engineer looked to both his guests like someone had just passed gas in his presence and then refused to use the air freshener. “Well we won’t know just how much horsepower the engine provides until we hook it all up and yes, if you need to ask, the fuel is slightly ‘experimental’ if that means it has never been tried in a real mount. Are we good now?” Roland asked looking to both again. The room was silent for a minute or two, then both Nafeesa spoke at the same time.

“Yeah, we’re all good now.”

“Yep, right as rain.”

“Good, now can we get back to work?” Roland asked not expecting an answer as he went back to scrubbing the frame. Wahkan and Nafeesa followed and soon they were back to getting Hehaka-Luta back on her feet and ready to meet the world.

Even as the men blasted on the frame cleaning it up with squealing tools and grinding machines Nafeesa heard not a thing. She was lost in her thoughts, dancing to music that did not come from the music box in the room. As she followed Roland’s directions to the letter on dunking the forks into the solutions for the proper amount of time Nafeesa was thinking of something else entirely. She was busy running through the images of the meditation she had drifted through the night before; of the ‘experience’ she had felt while dancing. Yet of it all, of the feelings and emotions, it was when the dance was over and she stood there in front of the Elk with wild red fur that she felt…at ease.

It had snorted and a voice touched Nafeesa’s soul, a voice like no other.

That was very beautiful little one, was it meant for me?

“I think so…this is the first time I’ve done something like this?”

Something like what?

Nafeesa looked around before holding out her arms, “This…coming here…I’ve never come to a place like this before…to see someone like you. What is this place?”

The Elk snorted again and shook its large head. Its antlers swayed from the shake sending a flutter of butterflies that settled on the horns skyward. Nafeesa smiled uncontrollably as the brightly colored wings took flight, blue and yellow and red. She hadn’t noticed the small bugs before, not even when she was walking in the real world, but now she couldn’t help but notice. She couldn’t turn away from watching the flutter of butterflies slowly flying then she could stop breathing. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as the voice touched her soul again.

This place is no mystery little one. It’s a secret place only reached in a dream or through a wish. This grove is your secret place An Nafeesa and it has always been here, visited by a little kitten who use to chase butterflies across it, but not very often now.

She looked at the Elk with a little disbelief. “This is my secret place?”

The Elk just snorted and nodded its head up and down as the voice spoke, Yes little kitten.

Her own secret place? Nafeesa had never known about this and yet the Elk, which really had no reason to lie, said she used to come when she was young. How? When she woke, for lack of a better word from her meditation Nafeesa sat perfectly still on the blanket on the floor. She searched her memory and could not remember anything about this place. Feeling just a little lost Nafeesa went to sleep and sometime during the night that confusion simply disappeared. When she rose this morning she practically jumped out of her cot and ran for the door. Nafeesa was not sure why she was so happy, just that she was. Then she remembered the frame, the red Elk, and her meditation adventure.

Now all she really wanted was to get back to her room and return to her secret place to see it all again.

The motor looked just any other motor Wahkan had ever seen, big and bulky and full of the same parts any combustion motor would need. So what exactly made this one different from any other motor he asked in usual flat baroque manner, which got under Roland’s skin like it was meant too.

The engineer turned and looked up at the large man with a glare that had become common place between the two over the last few days. “Were you not listening to a word I said yesterday? I said the motor is designed to run on the special fuel I created specifically for this design.”

“So this motor needs a special gas to run on or what, it won’t run at all?” Wahkan asked pointing to the heavy block of chromed metal.

“Hell no, it’ll run fine on regular fuel if it has too, but if you want the magic then you’ll put my stuff in her and hang on for all you got.” Roland grinned.

Wahkan wasn’t sure how to take the motor but he sure knew how to take Roland’s grin. He’d been seeing it for most of his life, from the days when he had sought revenge for his family and tribe by selling his soul to Enyo the Nightshade visiting the old man for one-of-a- kind weapons to now when he was doing what, seeking redemption in some form or another? No, Wahkan knew that grin, and he knew the old engineer was more than capable of building an engine that could make the Hehaka-Luta special. He looked from Roland to the motor and pointed, “Then fire it up and let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

That grin on the engineer’s face turned to a broad smile, “You want to see what it can do?”

“I didn’t come here to stand back and watch the best girl at the ball go home with someone else. Start the motor and see what she gives us.” Wahkan replied with a nod.

The only word leaving Roland’s mouth was lost in a laugh as he practically skipped over to the motor and got it ready to fire off. The engineer had all ready done testing with the block before his guests had shown up so there was little time to get everything set.. He had blown out, and exploded, more engine blocks then he cared and ever would admit to in his testing and it was only after he perfected his strengthening baths did he find a block that could take the powerful combustion of his new fuel mixture. When he had it all ready to go he handed out ear protecting to Wahkan and Nafeesa.

“Get ready to be downright amazed!” Roland whooped as he pressed a button on a panel full of buttons and gauges.

Wahkan stood back knowing the panel was where the engineer could control the engine, rev it and redline it to the max RPM if he wanted, and as the motor came to life with a loud throaty roar the large man found himself smiling uncharacteristically. As Roland turned a dial on the panel he increased the throttle on the motor putting more of his special fuel into its belly making the block rev up in RPM’s. All at once the room started to shake with the muscle and noise of the motor and its raw power.

She knew a little bit about motors, which she kept her secret and which is why she marveled at the sound of the raw power flowing from the block. The walls of the room were barely holding back the waves of heart pounding force making Nafeesa wonder just how the motorcycle would stay on the ground under this much energy. Roland gave the dial on the panel another twist and the motor revved with even more power. She started to wonder if there was a limit to how much output the motor could produce when Roland brought the demonstration to an end. He shut down the motor and the sudden quiet was more of a shock then the reverberating walls.

“How was that, pretty damn impressive, huh?” Roland yelled.

“How is the bike supposed to keep from turning into a rocket?” Nafeesa found herself yelling back noting the ear protection seemed to be lacking just a bit.

The engineer’s just smiled and gave a wink before answering, “I thought that was what we wanted, to leave a blazing trail on the road behind the wheel as you take off.” No one in the room looked amused by the joke so Roland held up his hand. “You got nothing to worry about, the weight of the bike doubled due to the strengthening process so you’ll need the extra horsepower to get it moving.”

“Oh,” Nafeesa answered realizing the engineer had all ready thought about the need for Hehaka-Luta. She stood back as Wahkan left the room to get a drink and for some reason she felt an opportunity opened for her. “You’re amazing Roland, all the stuff you know and can do…it’s just amazing.”

Roland was as feisty a man as Nafessa had come across, more than willing to take on anyone or anything it seemed, and yet he just melted at the comment. He smiled and maybe even blushed a little; it was hard to tell with all the dirt on his cheeks. “Thank you Nafeesa, means a lot.”

“I hope it still does when I ask my question.” She smiled sheepishly.

The mood changed in the room almost instantly, growing a little quieter if that was possible. Roland still smiled, yet it wasn’t because of the compliment. “You’re gonna ask me about my boy?”

“Did Wahkan really…kill him?” Nafeesa asked ready for a quick shut down from the engineer, but to her surprise he was more than willing to talk.

“Unfortunately for all concerned Mikkel didn’t give much of a choice not too.”

“What happened…if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Mikkel decided to fall in with a group of men who more or less had no respect for people in this world or any other for that matter. He could have done anything he put his mind to and I’m not just saying that because I was his father, but the pull of those in the dark was too much to resist. One night it all came to an end, karma came calling I heard the shaman say once, and Wahkan had no choice but to take my boy’s life.”

The engineer stopped then shook his head before finishing with one last long breath. “That six gun Wahkan wears on his hip, it ain’t there for looks let me assure you. Two bullets through the chest and my boy was dead Nafeesa, gone from my hands forever. Now if you’ll excuse me I have some things I need to attend to before the last meal of the day.”

And with that he was done. Nafeesa watched him leave the room silently and all the while feeling a pain deep in her heart for Roland.

Troubled dreams seemed to follow Wahkan into sleep tonight, deeply buried images thought long forgotten from a past he kept trying to outrun but couldn’t. As the mental pictures twisted the landscape of his dream Wahkan’s body sweated under sheets. He gasped for breath as he was forced to see things he had locked away back in the depth of his mind.

The day had started out nicely. The sun had shone brightly down on that small village making the water in the fountain at its center sparkle like diamonds. The village had a name but at the moment it escaped Wahkan and if truth be told he really didn’t care what this place was called. He watched as little kids ran around the large marble walls of the fountain, every once in a while one splashing others with the cold water from it. There was a large statue in the center of the well, a large marble thing honoring some old fool who had done some bit of bravery that saved this village from being obliterated. Yeah, too bad the old man wasn’t around now, all these people could have used him when it all starts. He watched one of the boys playing and knew that happy smile would be gone in about an hour. The boy would be crying and screaming for his mother this day, a loving mother no doubt who may or may not be able come to soothe him. He may end up just like Wahkan, alone and filled with nothing but hatred for what happened this day. The boy may even end up coming after them and this band of desperados, and if that day comes when he was looking down the barrel of a gun, well old Wahkan would just have to deal with it.

He didn’t want to see this again. Why, after all he had been through were the images coming back? Hadn’t he paid for his past yet? No, this was happening because of something or someone opening up old wounds and forcing them to bleed.

They had come all of them, Moss and Alyce and Stilt, to this place to do a destroy and they certainly did. All the names were fake, their real ones given up when the gang was formed. When your soul is as black as the night is long your name don’t mean a lot except to the people chasing you. Wahkan knew Moss was a man called Steinn and Stilt used to be called Mikkel but that was it. He didn’t want to know them anymore than they wanted to know him, and yet Alyce was totally different. She was a Native too and for whatever reason he had fallen in love with her, had seen past all the cruelty she exuded like a scent and cherished a cold heart. Her long dark hair flowed away from a slim face with high cheek bones and loveless eyes. Maggie said she loved him too and maybe it was true. It was hard to think these days what with Enyo twisting his mind and soul like a puppet on a string. She had taken one when he agreed to her terms and the other was already long gone. The Nightshade had made an offer Wahkan couldn’t turn down and in the end it was only his soul she would get…more than worth it he decided.

He wanted to wake up, just wake the hell up and end the dream. Whatever was controlling the dream though had every intention to keep the images rolling along. It wanted to dig just a little more it seemed.

He had to shoot him, right? Now don’t go thinking it bothered him to shoot Stilt/Mikkel, Wahkan would sleep just fine tonight and the next and the next. The boy had started down a road no man walked with Wahkan and he got what was coming, two bullets from his gun. Maggie stood back cheering him on as he watched the boy fall to the ground. He could hear her and he could see Moss/Steinn just a few feet away smiling as cold as the snake he was. Only, strangely, he really couldn’t remember why he shot Mikkel. It had just happened, smoke was still drifting up from the barrel of the six-shooter, and yet Wahkan wasn’t sure why he had pulled the trigger. He knew the boy had said something, he had to have said something, but what he wasn’t sure and why did he care all of the sudden? All Wahkan wanted was too kill the ones who took his family and he had done that with Enyo’s information. He had given up his soul for the names of the men who killed his family and for it he was now hers. He killed who she said to kill and he thought nothing of it…till now…till right now.

Then the images stopped mercifully and Wahkan started to fall back into the welcomed dark of slumber, but as he did a female voice called out a single word. It echoed like a whisper and yet it roared like the Great Bear.

Anapo

The dawn…the beginning of a new day.

As with Wahkan, Nafeesa found sleep a rough road to travel this night, only for different reasons. Her dreams were more lucid instead of dark, more purposeful then destructive, and yet she still found her footing not as solid as she would like. The dream from the night before had fallen on her as soon as her head hit the pillow it seemed like and soon Nafeesa found herself back in the glade. The grass which had been so soft before was now hard, stiff and slightly painful to the touch. The warmth of the wind was gone replaced with a cold breeze that made her feel numb and disjointed. Nafeesa looked around searching for the large Red Elk from before but there was just the loneliness of the woods.

“Where are you Red Elk?” She called out the woods hoping to hear something, anything, for answer. The Red Elk brought her here, just like the night before, or so she thought.

A dense fog just above her ankles began to creep along the ground, edge over the small hill that formed the bowl like hills of the glen and slide down toward her. Nafeesa wanted to step back and away from this foreign substance, her kitten curiosity gone with the feeling of this place. Nafeesa was sure now the Red Elk had not brought here like she thought, something else had intruded and pulled her back to this…what…dream? As the fog wrapped a long finger around each ankle the Mithra suddenly wanted to go back. She didn’t want to stay any longer here. She wanted to wake up and see Roland and Wahkan and that frame again, oh how she wanted to see the frame.

“It’s not that bad little lost kitten, it’s not that bad at all to be here with us.” A child like voice called out abruptly.

Nafeesa looked to her right with a jump scanning for whoever spoke. The words, the tone, it felt wrong to her ears. It was a child…and yet there was an age behind it, a very old age that seemed to know what she was thinking at that very second.“Who’s there?” She called out again with just a little fear in her voice.

This time the voice responded, still child like with a nefarious undertone, and this time it was not alone when it did. “We like you little kitten…we like you so very much.” The voice replied as Nafeesa felt something touch the back of her shoulder. It was the stroke of a lover, a soft touch that brought heat and want in an instant, and yet it reviled at the same time. “We just want to pet our little kitten, just a smalllll pettttt.” The voice said low, so lovingly and disturbing it made Nafeesa gasp as the invisible hands touched her again in a place only a lucky few have touched.

She woke with a start and scream stuck in her throat. It took a minute or two for Nafeesa to realize she was back in her room at the bunker, laying a pool of sweat shivering. What was that…whatever it was? It wasn’t the Elk and it wasn’t the frame, so what was it?