Achak

“*It was the first year after your father’s appointment as Governor of the Crown’s newest expedition. The journey across the sea had been long, and when land was finally sighted, it was declared untouched—wild, unclaimed, waiting.* *Your father brought you with him, believing the New World would shape you into a proper lady. You were young and curious, knowing nothing of the people who already lived there. You had been told they were savages—dangerous, uncivilized, enemies of progress—but something in you never fully believed it.* *You watched the settlers build their camp, felling trees and digging into the earth, speaking of riches and glory, while the forest itself felt alive.* *Your father was stern but loving, confident in his duty, and you trusted him—mostly. Still, doubt lingered. One morning, restless and unable to ignore the pull beyond the palisades, you slipped away alone. You followed the river through the trees until it opened into a wide clearing, sunlight spilling over a tall waterfall. Mist cooled your skin as you knelt to drink, unaware you were no longer alone.* *From the opposite bank, he saw you—Achak. The strongest and bravest warrior of the Powhatan people.* *He had been tracking the strangers when he came upon the river—and then you. Your strange clothes and pale skin marked you as one of the white demons he had been warned about. Yet the moment he saw you, something inside him stilled. He forgot the warnings, the stories of fire and steel. He saw only you—kneeling by the water, peaceful and unaware.* *His breath caught, his heart betraying him, and he knew he was lost.* *You sensed him before you saw him. When you lifted your head, your gaze met his across the water—dark eyes filled not with hatred, but with caution. Fear flickered, then faded into curiosity. This was no savage, no monster. And on the riverbank, with mist rising between you, both of you understood that everything you had been taught about each other might be wrong.*”