Bella pushed the middle-aged chief’s wheelchair along the dirt path carved out by the Native Americans, heading deeper into the reservation.
“Is there something happening with me?”
She speculated that this middle-aged man might have noticed something, although she was completely unaware of it, having no suspicion.
Bella, having saved people at the airport, naturally did not want to bring disaster to the innocent Native American tribe. Her idea was simple, perhaps even naive; she tried to use the tribe as a bridge to see if she could talk to the so-called ‘Grim Reaper’ who had caused the plane crash.
Getting the ‘Grim Reaper’ to pay was out of the question, as U.S. law wasn’t that powerful.
She guessed that this ‘Grim Reaper’ might be a deity from the ancient Mayan or Aztec civilizations, and the current Native American tribe likely had their protective spirits or totems. People from the same side do not harm each other; discussing and talking over issues was a far better approach.
“Indeed, there is,” the middle-aged chief replied briefly but did not delve further into the topic. Instead, he asked, “Bella, do you know the history of our Quileute tribe?”
I know you can turn into wolves!
The werewolves of the Quileute tribe are not like traditional werewolves; they are human under normal circumstances, transforming into giant wolves when stimulated by the presence of vampires.
However, in wolf form, they are wolves; in human form, they are humans; there is no state of being covered in black fur, with a wolf head, walking upright.
According to Bella’s guess, they were like druids in video games, inherently possessing the ability to shape-shift.
She pondered momentarily: “Hmm, Jacob said you have a glorious history, originally a great tribe.”
She chose her words to sound pleasing, something no one could fault.
The middle-aged chief couldn’t help but chuckle softly. No wonder his son was so obsessed; this girl knew how to speak.
Polite and pleasant in conversation, and most importantly, beautiful.
He sighed quietly to himself, resolved to help if he could. After all, she was his old friend’s daughter, the object of his son’s affection.
His tone suddenly became serious: “Your misfortune has not left you; some kind of force, inexplicable by science, is still watching over you.”
Bella felt a sinking feeling in her heart.
“I’ll leave here tonight. I will explain it to Charlie and Jacob,” she said decisively.
Sitting in his wheelchair, Billy Black gently waved his hand: “No, child, that’s not what I mean.”
“The Quileute are now just a small tribe; much of our ancestors’ legacy is gone. The following words must remain secret, even from Jacob and Charlie.”
“Alright, I won’t tell anyone, including Jacob, including Charlie.”
Billy Black touched a towering tree beside them: “This tree was already very tall in my grandfather’s time, truly a long-standing memory. The knowledge of the Quileute tribe comes from the Mayan Empire; we believe everything has a spirit, we believe the spirit comes from our ancestors’ bloodline, you are a spirit, I am a spirit, even the one who caused the plane crash is a spirit.”
Bella carefully considered his words, sensing that the middle-aged chief held no reverence for the ‘Grim Reaper’.
The middle-aged chief guessed her confusion and made a point to explain.
“Our beliefs are completely different from yours. In our customs, the roles of gods often change, and many tribes still have a ‘Godslayer’ ritual. While celebrating new gods, they mark the names of outdated gods or gods from conquered tribes on food for everyone to eat. Therefore, whether the one who caused the plane crash is dead or alive, it has nothing to do with the Quileute tribe.”
Bella had a moment of realization; the pantheon of these Native Americans was indeed complex. In her past life, she had never studied these matters; they were entirely out of her knowledge scope.
However, compared to gods like God, Odin, or Zeus, the gods on the Native American side seemed rather unfortunate, constantly being replaced. Who could stand that?
Billy Black patted his head: “People tend to stray as they age, but I want to say that the Quileute tribe can’t help you. You’re not of our bloodline, and the spirits of our ancestors cannot assist you. However, your ancestors can provide help, and you should seek their power.”
Bella looked slightly bewildered by his words.
Hesitantly, she asked, “Our ancestors were ordinary people. They didn’t have any extraordinary powers.”
Billy Black laughed heartily: “They do. If you patiently search, I believe your ancestors will protect you.”
He pulled out a cloth bag from the back of his wheelchair.
“The ritual is straightforward but requires you to understand your strengths. Ancestral spirits are not omnipotent; they focus on the present and do not make blind wishes. You’re a smart kid, and I believe you’ll get through this crisis.”
He handed the cloth bag to Bella and slowly wheeled himself away from the path, heading back to where his people lived.
Back home, Bella hurriedly opened the cloth bag to find simple contents.
There were some yellowed grass seeds, but she could not tell the specific type of grass.
A white beast’s tooth, some colorful paints.
And a slightly torn A4 paper with detailed instructions, seemingly worried she wouldn’t understand. They were even written in English.
The ritual was not demanding; all required was to find a quiet place to perform a séance.
Is there a quiet place in Forks? The Quileute tribe had provided her with a séance ritual; naturally, she wouldn’t bother them again. Besides, the Quileute have their ancestral spirits; would summoning an ancestor from the Swan family in their territory be appropriate? Would that be like challenging them?
She couldn’t go to the tribe to the north; the south was filled with a large family of vampires.
In the original timeline, Bella dreamed of becoming a vampire, but now she wasn’t so crazy; the vampires in the Marvel world just didn’t cut it.
She would have to conduct the séance at home.
She read through the procedure twice; it was utterly foolproof. There were no explanations of principles or meanings, just a startup procedure and some precautions.
Taking advantage of Charlie’s work hours, Bella began the ritual.
She first found a small pot, added charcoal, and lit it.
Following the procedure, she mixed the grass seeds and paint together; these were to be applied to her face. How it looked didn’t matter as long as it was done.
Bella looked in the mirror, applying the paint here and there. Seeing plenty left, she connected the designs on each side, looking like Jiraiya’s Sage Mode.
“This stuff won’t harm the skin, right?” Looking at her reflection, she felt utterly ridiculous but endured for survival.
She took out the beast’s tooth and slashed it across the palm of her right hand.
The blood dripped into the fire pot, and she closed her eyes, quietly waiting for a response from the Swan family ancestors.
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