Capitolo Secondo: Ambizione (9)

It’s been four days since we visited the capital.

The train had managed to make a couple of stops as we continued through the safest route to reach our destination. Descending into Virginia, we made stops by Arlington, Manassas, Fredericksburg, and Cuckoo, all for the sake of taking a risk in avoiding Richmond and what kind of traps Vins might have laid in the place. Our next step was Farmville, and then we would resume to pick the quickest path for North Carolina.

Beyond that, I expected to find a couple of troublesome circumstances regarding the outlawfulness within the Southern regions. It’s been just a little more than twenty years since the Civil War ended and I knew well enough that Jim Crow was hitting the strongest despite Lincoln’s best efforts to defeat any lingering racism within the former Confederate States.

Truly a tiring trail we were taking, but I knew that we couldn’t make long stops despite my interest in seeing if I could do something about the local politics. Sure, I didn’t have much of a relevance in the nation just yet, but I was still keen to believe I would be able to persuade any bigoted moron that served big offices in the south with the right rhetoric and the correct manipulation. Sadly, we had bigger issues to solve right now, and I vowed to take steps into that direction the moment we were done fighting Vins.

For now it was all about reaching where the Pillar Man was and defeating him before Vins could do anything about him. But just two hours in during the lengthy trek to Farmville and the train had to stop twice for the same reason.

The tracks had been ruined by the weather. It wasn’t an unusual circumstance to find for long railroads like the one we were taking, but I started to take notice of the fact that the damage seemed a mix of natural and… man-made. Some bits were just broken by something sharp or blunt. Strong enough to crack the wood and break the steel.

As we stopped for the second time to allow the technicians to work and fix the damage, it became clear the cause of these sabotages. Derek hummed, a grimace painted on his face as he crouched down to examine the destruction that caused us to stop.

“Indians.”

The curt explanation made somewhat sense. Although many of the tribes had grown submissive of the influence of the national government, two or three were known to be fairly active in the effort to preserve their identity through the drive pushed by the Civil War itself. If the Slaves could attain emancipation, why shouldn’t the Native Americans be able to accomplish something of the same degree?

That was the question that pushed for the survival of the Native Identity but also the intensification of aggression between the US government and the Tribes. I was surprised that it would have become a problem to me of all people, but I doubted the men and women behind these traps were able to properly discern proper politicians to other well-dressed individuals such as me, Speedwagon and Bhediya.

I looked around the moment the CowBoy mentioned this, feeling like at this point we should have been able to see some more hints about a tribe being behind this entire ordeal. I glanced on the left and the right, eventually pausing my gaze over a few tiny spots of white, red, blue, and green in the distance. A small retinue, either three of four individuals that were watching the train while saddled to horses. After a while, I recognized a few feathers atop their heads, and I was given further confirmation of this when they started to approach. They weren’t rushing, but it was clear that they were trying to get a better look over our current situation. To see if they were right to think we were part of the government or not. I kept staring for a while, deciding to try and take a more peaceful approach instead of just ordering to leave the entire area.

Something was just telling me to see what it was all about. Something that resonated deep within me.

This feeling, albeit strange and one I’ve never felt before, gave me a sense of commitment about it. I could tell that, if I spared just a moment to see what it was all about, I was going to find something worthwhile. It was like a pull, an indescribably powerful compulsion that left me genuinely interested to see why they were approaching.

A Stand’s power? I asked myself half-jokingly, still deciding to see where we were going with this. I got back to the train, picking up two blankets, some tea and some napkins. It wasn’t much, but I knew that hospitality wasn’t something that was going to be despised in times of peace. So I walked off the wagon I had retrieved these things, and I calmly waited, sitting down on one of the blankets and preparing some tea.

My actions weren’t ignored by the others, and soon I was joined in that curious and silly-looking effort. Speedwagon actually asked to sit beside me as he began helping with the preparation of the beverage, and Bloody inquired how to take part in the entire process, looking fairly interested by the simple but relaxing action. The atmosphere took such a calming effect that Zephy decided to part from Kate’s side and settle beside the boy, commenting how the process was fairly different than the one he was familiar with.

Derek hummed quietly, standing up in a vigilant stance. His example was followed by the blonde and by Bhediya. He glanced left and right, regarding the other two that had taken his approach and remained tense over this entire approach.

“You don’t believe it will end well?” He inquired calmly, my ears catching on his voice but I decided against paying it much more attention to merely listen to what he had to say about.

“I believe it can work. But at this point, I feel like it’s only natural to be wary of everything. Any logical ally could have been twisted and corrupted into dangerous individuals,” Kate pointed out, her orange eyes turning to glance at the werewolf. “What about you?”

I held back a smile, being familiar with the only reason why the grumbling Hamon user had taken this alternative stance to mine. And I knew how amusing it actually was to listen despite hearing it way too many times. Even Robert had to huff, knowing where this was going to end.

“I don’t like tea,” He flatly commented, adding nothing more to it since he knew how embarrassing it actually was for him.

Bhediya’s deep hatred for tea stemmed from his first attempt trying to drink it. George had been blissfully unaware of how the young man was quick to trust his sense of smell, so when he smelled the drop of milk within the drink, he didn’t hesitate in gulping it down in a single move. He expected to find a cool beverage to satisfy his tongue, only to find his entire mouth burning in a true inferno because the tea had been just prepared and was fairly hot and intense.

Sarah was there to help him wash the burning tongue, giggling and smiling eye-to-eye regardless of the suffering her big brother was going through. The memory and the experience were enough to dissuade the young man from actually trying to dare something as troublesome and unpleasant as that ever again. A true trauma, but, ‘sadly for him’, not enough to further boost his Hamon’s potential.

Blinking back to reality, I saw the trio of Native Americans finally reaching for us with their careful pace. They looked attentive, two of them keeping their attention to those that weren’t sitting. Some of the workers were still fixing the damage by the railroad, while the rest was inside, with just a couple looking at the entire predicament unfolding.

The one riding by the center, the leader from how strong-looking and older he was, had his eyes at me. I could tell without a doubt that he had realized I was the boss of the other side, and so he watched quietly over my actions. I didn’t waste time in having three cups prepared and the beverage served on each of those. I placed those in a way that it was clear that I was offering the tea to them.

The approach finally stopped and, with relative calm, the leader stepped down from his horse. The action was matched by the two other warriors. They were all wearing traditional light garbs for warriors, and they even had a couple of weapons on themselves to complete the entire outfit. The leader gave me a nod, quietly accepting my silent offer and soon they were sitting down to entertain this circumstance. Before going for the beverage, I brought my cup up so they could see what to do. I wasn’t exactly experienced in Native languages, and I knew actions were the only thing I could rely on until I was dealing with them without a proper translator.

They watched as I blew over the steam coming from the beverage, seemingly understanding that it was a hot brew that required to be cooled before being drunk. The oldest of the trio followed my example as precisely as possible, gaining a greater grasp over the heat the moment the cup was closer to his lips. He blew over it a couple of times and then spared a quick sip. A moment, then another sip.

The rest followed suit, with just one of them pausing and grimacing as he had drunk it a little before it was warm enough to drink without hurting his mouth. It was a silent exchange, but one also packed with true peace and an undeniable sense of mutual respect and equality.

…

“The shaman spoke highly of the man that strives for what lies beyond the sky,” The leader spoke in proper English, surprising pretty much most of the group I was part of. “My… apologies if I made it appear that I wasn’t accustomed to the language.”

I blinked, shaking off the surprise of my thoughts. “None of that. In fact, I believe it was in my poor taste to believe you weren’t capable of expressing yourself in proper English. I can only imagine that your tribe has been dealing with settlers for centuries now.”

“That would be correct,” The native answered calmly. “But right now, the reason that sees us seeking your assistance is not tied to our usual affairs. We require your help, Harbinger of Heavens.”

I paused before the title I was granted from those men. Sure, I was a believer of Heavens, but the fact they were aware of this was fairly concerning in its own introduction in this case. I don’t recall making any public declaration of my beliefs, at least not in a way that a native tribe would have learned of this with ease.

“And… what does Dio’s help mean to you?” Robert asked slowly, trying to make sense of this himself.

“I don’t think I understand,” The experienced warrior remarked. “What are you trying to ask?”

“What am I supposed to help you with? My friend was asking about the specifics of your humble request.”

My voice shredded the confusion, leaving just clarity as the man nodded.

“We… our chief has been struck by a horrible illness after fighting a monster trying to gain control of one of our oldest treasures.”

“And… how are you sure Dio can help you with it?” Bloody asked, gaining a nod from the leader and a curious glance from both those that were sitting beside him.

“The shaman told us about his tenacity. That he is a man that can be trusted and that he has powers that can help people around him,” He explained without hesitation, believing the words delivered by the religious figure. His stare turned back at me. “We know you are a man embroiled in a war against the greatest threat. And that your journey is already besieged by terrible enemies. But this woman, the one behind this much pain, she tried to take that treasure. She needs it to complete her plans.”

And that was more than enough to completely sell me to check on their current problem. If the monster was indeed what I think it was, then I had to check and see if we weren’t already given a troublesome countdown or not. I knew it wasn’t the Pillar Man, but there were a couple of things that could have come out of his resting place. There were plenty of Stone Masks to use, and I doubted what happened in New York was going to be the last time we faced vampires.

So I accepted the request, and I prepared myself for quite the interesting day considering how few things could actually come out of this very circumstance. In a few cases, I hoped to be really wrong because if those were true then… then we had another trouble to keep wary about.

I really hoped to be wrong, for if it was somehow possible that the Saint’s Corpse to be there, then I had way enough reasons to panic.

-----------d-d-d-d-------------

After giving orders to the workers to stand by and that we would have been back before the end of the day, we finally took the proper steps needed for us all to be brought to our little unplanned stop.

The place itself looked fairly… dreadful. I’ve never seen a reservation until that very moment. I knew what they were meant for, why those existed, and why those were considered one of the many unpleasant things imperialism was to blame about. Many confused colonialism with that word, mostly because imperialists saw it fit to mix both terms to ‘justify’ their actions.

When you colonize a plot of land, you give it an owner when it previously didn’t have one. When you bring imperialism, pricks tend to exploit and milk natives into labor and give up resources they lived thanks to. An unpleasant practice that found some connection to what we were looking at as we witnessed the life conditions of these people were forced to abide on a daily basis.

Some of the locals paused to look at us, most looking miserable, while only a few sparing curious looks at people like Bhediya and Kate. Both didn’t seem to mind, and yet I found out that Derek wasn’t having a blast about this.

I remember him mentioning that he took part in some expeditions to hunt down natives when he was younger, and, while he didn’t seem keen to despise the entire situation, he sure didn’t feel happy about the entire predicament he was in.

The tribe wasn’t able to develop beyond the borders imposed by the government, and that was really an ugly reality to be reminded that existed. Everyone watched with their own upset expressions, but Bloody was… confused- no, mortified.

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“W-Why isn't there any fertile land around?” He asked quietly. “Sure, grandfather mentioned how the reservations were meant to be small but… I thought those would have been given the plots that were easy to cultivate.”

“That’s because the reservations aren’t meant to keep us alive for too long,” One of our guides explained quietly. “The ‘better men’ want for us to become disciples of their culture, to abandon the ‘foolish and outlandish’ we have lived for centuries now.”

“And yet they can’t kill you,” I pointed out, frowning as I noticed some odd details I just couldn’t ignore. Bloody was right about the bad state of the land all around, making it impossible to commit to agriculture. There were some animals that I could see being raised properly, but I was more confused by why the people here were moving around so many vegetables and other green food around. It just didn’t make sense on a normal basis.

“You have noticed,” The oldest of the three commented, making his words feel like a mix of awe and surprise. “Not many are able to find out this element that makes our tribe stand out from many.”

Robert blinked. “There’s an awful lot of fruits and other products of the earth around.”

His comment finally brought up what I had found out mere moments earlier, giving a clearer picture to the rest of the group.

“That’s because our tribe is blessed with something many would kill to obtain. A blessing that comes straight from the sun. Our ancestor, of course, decided to humbly call it Keshowse Kaomi.”

I felt something click after hearing his explanation. A blessing… from the sun. I could only feel perplexed about this curious development, but I decided that I could only draw proper conclusions only if I saw this practice in person.

“Can you use it?” I asked with genuine interest and… he nodded.

He brought his right hand up and, much like Hamon, he started to adjust his breathing. It took him just a few brief moments to get something interesting to happen. A strange layer of energy coated his palm, but, differently from the Ripple, it was orange-colored.

“It’s- It’s just like-” Bhediya started to say before I interrupted with a sigh.

“Like this,” I said while showing the Hamon now coursing all over my left hand. The natives looked baffled by what they were seeing and it took them a while to grow accustomed to the sight.

“This- This is like the blessing!”

“The name of this ability is Hamon, or the Ripple. I learned this by a Tibetan Monk, a man from Asia, that was experienced in this mystic art,” I explained, feeling drawn to this novelty. “I think your blessing is something similar to it. I guess you use that to ‘heal nature’.”

“Y-Yes?”

“And that it can’t be used to heal people.”

… “Yes?”

Just like I had predicted through what little was available out of this detour. I was incredibly surprised that I found a variant of what I knew being the Ripple. It was more limited in most of the roles the mystic art was known to be flexible in, yet it had a greater grasp in harnessing the production of energy into other living beings that weren’t human. Nature was easier to heal compared to the normal human body, and yet normal Hamon never gave me the chance to properly grow a garden. My little effort to a hobby failed miserably the moment I dabbled in that circumstance.

I thought that it wouldn’t have been possible for me to actually convey the energy into a boost to the growth of plants beyond flowers. And yet, from the looks of it, it was possible. I just stopped way too early and almost missed that entire opportunity. I thought this ability was meant to act as an aid to humans rather than plants, and right now I knew I was wrong.

Which means my training with Hamon is far from over.

“It would seem your blessing is akin to the Ripple, but born out of definite boundaries. In a few words, you developed this ability through your connection with Nature, and never expanded it to cover your souls’ bond to it.”

“So… you can heal the chief?” The youngest of the three inquired and I nodded.

“It should be possible. Hamon is known to heal most of the illnesses, known and unknown,” I replied determinedly. “And I suppose it’s about time we go and see the leader of your tribe.”

There was general agreement to that point, and soon we were taken to the biggest tent there. At least, it had part of it being a tent. The place was a tent bound to a bigger building that was used to house the chief, the tribal reunions, and other important duties that were no longer allowed outdoors.

I was the first of my group to see the ill chief. The man, albeit as old as Muddiburi, looked completely frail. Most of his muscles were drained, his skin was paler than the rest of his kinsmen and I could tell that was a sign of the sickness eating at his life force. Even through a brief pulse of Hamon I could see that his life was burning away faster than expected.

There were two aides assisting him. A healer and the shaman himself from the way the elder was donning a flamboyant feathered hat and an extremely large cloak. It was the old man that regarded me with a slight bow.

“Oh Harbinger of the Heavens. You have finally reached us,” He regarded me. “You, the Disciple of Heaven, the Imperial Aimer, the Finder of Truth, the Wildest of Hearts and… Light.”

Frowning, I turned to whom he was gawking at. And I saw that Kate had the same confused look I had currently on my face. She really didn’t seem to catch what the man was trying to imply with that denomination. ‘Light’? What is he raving about?

“A-Apologies,” He muttered profusely. “For a moment, I- I didn’t expect… Still, the chief.”

I nodded, feeling sure that it wasn’t a migraine that I didn’t want to dwell on. Did it sound important? Yes, but I doubted we were going to get something direct out of him with the cryptic way he was addressing us all. “Please, let’s return to the topic.”

“Our strong leader, Sugnog, has bravely defended our greatest relic from a creature beyond this time,” The shaman explained. “He defeated her, repelling her from ever trying to hunt for our treasure, but he was wounded beyond normal healing manners can fix.”

“Which is why I’m here.”

“That’s correct,” The elder confirmed. “You have the means and the will to aid those in disadvantage. And I know you are here to aid our grand warrior.”

“...Can you please stop?”

The curt inquiry got a shocked glance out of the shaman.

“What?”

“I understand you are trying to keep up a mask, but right now I really feel irritated by what I perceive as condescending. Here you are, proclaiming what is going to happen in such a condescending voice and… it irritates people. It irritates me,” I elaborated. “So, just for this once, I would like to handle this without having someone commenting out loud what I’m doing. Can I please have that?”

The chief nodded weakly. “The shaman… shall abide.”

There was no opposition to this point, and I was relieved when I was able to start working on the healing process without having someone praising every step I take. Sure, it can be fun once in a while to be divined as a deity, but I really wasn’t someone that loved having the narrator bring up everything I was doing. Praising is nice, trying to turn my life in a football match wasn’t.

Still, it wasn’t exactly quiet as I began pumping Hamon onto the chief. I was holding his hand, the palm wrapped tightly over mine and showing me how powerful he actually was despite his weakened state. He was strong, but still far from what I could do with a single arm-wrestling move. Instead of keeping silent, I decided to entertain a simple conversation.

“So how about we come up with a deal, Chief Sugnog?” I asked calmly. My words gained a fascinated frown from the big guy. “Your tribe is surviving the best it can, but until it’s tied and dependent on the government as a reservation the chances of it facing further pressure that can hurt it will never stop growing. I wish to offer an alternative.”

“And that is, young man?”

I sighed. “My organization, Made in Heaven, can make an investment that would favor you. We buy the plots of land around your reservation, I gave you half the ownership so legally you are allowed to do whatever you wish in those territories without facing any repercussions. In exchange, we sign a treaty of friendship and you allow me to modernize the tribe with proper new jobs without having to dispel your culture and tradition.”

…

“You wish to bring ‘civilization’?”

“No. Why should I do that when you are civilized already? You speak a common language, you have a background, you have history behind you. You have your deities, your beliefs, and also your morals. You are a society, a civilized one,” I rebuked politely. “Which is why I believe the only thing you need is a push to stand up to others and remind them that it was only luck that prevented you to be set in such a troublesome circumstance.”

…

“It sounds… interesting, Mr. Joestar.”

We ended up speaking some more about this after I was done with the healing process. He had been poisoned, so the best approach was to aid his body speed up the normal process to purge the ‘bad’ out of him and increase the chances of it actually not killing him in the ordeal.

I was about to call this a satisfying visit since we ended up striking a deal, and I also learned that I could further improve Hamon to take a more agricultural route if needed. Who knows, maybe I was meant to be able to copy Giorno by the time I got a higher understanding of the Ripple and be able to use its potential to bolster the growth of plans, trees or even create life out of nothing.

But before we even had the chance to try and get back to the train and resume our trip, I was stopped by the shaman. The elder looked particularly happy about the chief being safely brought back to health, yet the man spared me a serious look.

“Apologies for earlier, Harbinger of Heavens. It wasn’t my intention to sound too… pompous with my manners.”

“I don’t mind a couple of praises once or twice in a while. I just don’t like having someone narrate everything I do.”

He nodded, agreeing to my words. “And I understand. It was wrong of me for being this forward. I wish to say that the tribe is forever in your debt and that I wish to grant you access to the relic itself. A tool that will assist you in your adventure.”

I was confused by the sudden openness, but the chief didn’t seem to care much about this detail and allowed for the elder to take me to one of the rooms upstairs. It was filled with various old tools, some of which recognized as weapons, others as sacred masks and other armors fitting that same role and… and something wrapped in a red cloth.

“This is what many thought could grant powers beyond imagination. Sadly, those failed to recognize that this is something that requires inhuman willpower and incredible determination. I know you will make great use of this and never use it for any selfish desire.”

I parted the cloth the moment he gave the slim object onto my waiting hands. My jaws dropped and… yet it was there. One of the Arrows and… it was in fine conditions. I frowned, trying to make sense how it came to be here. Like, there was no way for it to be here in the Americas. I was so lost into studying the tool of Destiny itself that I almost ignored the muffled screams that were growing louder and louder. The shaman was the one that brought me out of my distracted studying.

“Oh-Oh no!”

His exclamation stole my attention away, my sight swiftly moving to see what had caused this kind of reaction. And I wasn’t amused. Really, I wasn’t. One glimpse through the nearest window, and I was given quite the grim scenario.

Many warriors were forming lines and using a mix of close quarters and obsolete muskets to fight off the absurd amount of groaning undead corpses that were rushing at the borders of the reservation. Former enemies, dead tribesmen, and even dead US soldiers wearing a mix of confederate and union uniforms were all attacking en masse the settlement. It was a full-fledged invasion, a horde of the size I never thought being forced to fight. A blink, and I saw the other members of my group rushing in while following the chief into the battle.

I gritted my teeth, sparing just a quick look at the old man. “I guess I will join them.”

He gave me a confused look, but he realized what I was referring to the moment I opened the window and jumped down to the ground, running to stand by with the others as we proceeded to fight off the attacking force. It was going to be tough but… we had to win. We can’t afford to lose the Arrow here and now. Not even if Vins decided to come by with her newest attack dog.

This- This was truly a war in the making.