Chapter 1

In the mountains of the Appalachian Mountains, there was a tribe that had been there for over three hundred years. They were called the blackfoot indians, and they were a peaceful but loudly spoken tribe, but they were some of the nicest people you would ever meet.

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The boy Tahu is no older than thirteen summers. He was not the strongest, nor the loudest, but his eyes shimmered like starlight when he listened to the stories of the elders. Tahu dreamed not of power, but of helping his people grow strong, safe, and wise.

One evening, as the Great Fire cracked and leapt toward the stars, the village seer, Old Mother Wapiti, stood and raised her staff. “The spirits have spoken,” she said. “The next chief must earn the crown of feathers. Three trials will be given. Only one with heart, mind, and spirit in balance will succeed.”Tahu stepped forward, his voice steady: “I will face the trials.”

Tahu was led to the edge of the Deep Woods, where a massive stone blocked the path. “Move it,” said the warrior Elk-Foot, “or go home.” Tahu pushed. The stone didn’t budge. He pulled. Still nothing. He sat beside it, panting.

Then he listened.

He heard ants under the earth, birds overhead, and a whisper: “Not all strength is muscle.”Tahu rose and studied the trees. He noticed a long branch and vines nearby. Using them, he made a lever and rolled the stone aside with ease. Elk-Foot smiled. “You passed.”