Amacara - The Pheonix of the Night Pilot

This is the pilot for a cretive series I wrote based on this vision I recieved at a fire while living in the desert during the Great Change of 2020. I have recieved many sacred visions from this spirit, and every aspect of my reality became a living dream. I have the vision to start school at the Ringling this Fall for a Bachelors in Creative Writing and Screen Writing. I would like to bring these visions to fruition for the spirits they are and the lessons they hold. I have found many refelctions of my own life in these lines and recognize Amacara as a Spiritual Guardian who helps guide and direct me. This is the vision I received of how she came to be.

Chief Apa stands in the reflecting light of the Sacred Fire with a pinch of tobacco between his fingers. The tribe gathered silently around him, bathed in the flickering glow. With deliberate motion he raises his hands to his mouth and begins to whisper an ancient prayer. The veil thinned as they wanted, knowing he was about to open a gateway between thier world and the realm of the ancestors.

With a graceful gesture, Chief Apa sprinkles the tobacco into the fire, his breath carrying the words, “Aho Mitakuye Oyasin, to all our relations…” The flames flickered, dancing in his dark eyes, reflecting weight of the conscious realm and the freedom of spirit. He leans back slightly, nodding toward the fire, listening intently for the call of Great Spirit. A profound silence enveloped the gathering.

In that stillness, Chief Apa raises his left hand, his voice deep. “Guardians of the North, South, East and the West….. As Above, and So Below, for Within. Be with us tonight and always. We ask that you offer us your guidance and bring forth the the vision we’ve heard of, from the winds and in the water. Our minds quiet to receive your sacred teachings. Our hearts open to feel your Divine Presence. We call on the courage of our warriors as we overcome all obstacles. We have clarity to see that all we pass, is a gift from you for our salvation. We are in unity with our brothers and sisters who jounrey with us. We welcome your presenece into this space now, and so it is.”

Chief Apa’s body softened, his shoulders releasing thier tension as his chin lifts slowly, eyelids growing heavy. From within the fire, a spirit emerges. It’s fluid form, dancing with smoke, shimmering in the glow of the flames. The spirit moves gracefully, drifting upward until hovering directly before Chief Apa’s closed eyes. Suddenly, they open, the firelight intensifies, weaving a connection between the spirit and his gaze. A glowing radiance filled his eyes, spreading through his skull like a spark igniting.

With a deep inhale, Chief Apa drew the spirit into himself, the light traveling with his breath, illuminating his body from the inside. His veins pulsed with radiant energy, skin glowing faintly beneath the surface. As he exhaled, his head titled back, and a beam of light shot from his eyes into the misty night sky, piercing the darkness. He inhaled once more, this time his head rolling backwards in a slow delicate arch, and with a smooth twist of the neck, his head circled back toward the fire.

His eyes, now glazed with otherworldly light, locked onto the flames. Chief Apa dropped to his knees as a brilliant beam of light shot from the heart of the fire, connecting to his gaze. In an instant, the light burst through the back of his head, projecting a living vision onto the clouds and illuminating the heavens with images from the spirit world.

In the clouds behind him, a vision began to form. As if carried on a gust of wind, we soar through the clouds, descending from soft, white billows that darken into heavy shades of gray. Emerging from the mist, the river’s edge comes into view, its waters reflecting the warm, orange hues that paint the desert cliffs. Yet, as we descend further, we see fire glowing not only from the Sacred Circles but from the homes too.

The flames rage, devouring everything. Homes are ablaze and bodies lie still, some resting as smoke escapes them, others in puddles of blood. Tiny figures, kids toys, scorched and silent, rested near a large stone that stood like a grave among the ashes.

From the South, the thunder of hooves shakes the earth as horses gather, bots striking the ground with purpose, weapons clattering ominously. To the North, past the burning ruins of community, the Central Fire flickered, where Chief Apa remained. Crouched beside it, his body broken and bleeding, he continued to add wood to the fire. He left arm was severed, ending in a stump where his hand had been taken. He rolls to reach for more wood, revealing his legs are cut off too. One had been taken at the ankle, the other above the knee… both wounds crudely cauterized by the fire. Blood trickled from the burns as he moved in painful, hushed prayer, tracing a cross, circled twice on his forehead. He eyes, wet with tears, reflected the flames as he whispered.

Suddenly, a deep rumble came from the cliffs edge, and Chief Apa’s attention snapped to the shadows. As his eyes struggled to adjust, he could see a figure emerging from the darkness. His heart surged as he recognized her… the unmistakable outline of his Chosen Daughter, Amacara. “Ama?… Ama… Ca? Ca. Cara?… Amacara?! Amacara!” His emotions cracking with emotions like a child.

Amacara kept low in the shadows, scanning around the fire. Crouching low and with piercing vision she approached her father. “Father, what have they don’t to you? I  tried… I  really tried, I knew they were coming, you trained me… I  was here and still…. They destroyed our land and our people… And you, look at you! Father… Say something…”

Chief Apa smiling, overwhelmed by the sight of her, his eyes wide with faith, could only repeat, “It’s you… it’s you… It’s really you… you’re alive… Aho Mitakuye Oyasin.”

Amacara knelt beside Chief Apa, cradling his broken body. “Father?” Her voice trembling. His gaze slowly fell as he collapsed into her lap, his strength waning. “My darling.” He rasped, eyes fluttering open and closed. “The time has come. It is now your time to transform, to become the Chief of our lineage and the protector of these lands. You are ready to shift beyond this world, to see the light beyond this darkness…”

Amacara held him close, her heart pounding as she listened. “We always knew this day would come,” Chief Apa whispered. “They came with force, yet softened just enough to win us over. They made their demands, then turned our own wisdom and skills against us. But there is one thing they could never take from us… you. You are the Phoenix of the Night—born of the Eagle and the Condor.”

He lifted his gaze, sitting up just enough to meet her eyes.“Your mother and I offer you our deepest sacrifice—one that bestows the power of our ancestors. The body, the blood, the flesh of life made sacred.”

A scream echoed across the water, and both of them tensed, alert. Amacara’s eyes flicked to her father, now burning with determination. “Father… what are you saying? You and Mother spoke of this path, of the sacred initiations of the Eagle and the Condor. The prophecy—it was about you two?”

He nodded slowly.“When your mother and I reunited, we rose in the flames of love. The people of the earth began to walk in balance—learning to forgive, to live in peace. The fire of chaos was alchemized through us, and from our union, we created you. And now I see… through those same flames, you were born. You, Amacara... the Phoenix of the Night.”

She paused, breath held in her chest. Then her voice emerged, calm and steady.

“I’ve always felt the prophecy was about me. I hoped this day would come, though I never imagined it like this. Even as a child, I saw visions of my wings. I’ve felt this fire inside me, building… waiting to be released. But I understand now—it’s not just about rising in the fire. It’s about using that fire with wisdom, and never being consumed by it.” She took a deep breath and placed a hand on her heart.“I accept this sacred offering, Chief. I will rise in the flames. I will be Forged through fire. "

The Chief straightened his back, his body rigid with purpose. As his eyes rolled upward, his voice deepened with reverence. "I call upon the Guardians of the North, South, East, and West. As above, so below, and within." His eyes glowed, and with deliberate care, he withdrew the Wocobe Knife from his sling, its iron blade catching the firelight. He placed it into the flames, watching as the metal began to heat and glow.

"The only way out is through," he murmured. A light surged from the Wocobe Knife, traveling into his forearm.  Chief Apa looks up to Amacara, stating “Forged by Fire” as this light traveled up his arm, his lightbody began to illuminate.. He lifts the blade to the sky and then motions it to the earth, "Made of earth”. As he places the edge of the knife into a bowl of water, he whispers, "Cleansed by water," As the steam rises in hissing spirals, and he continues with a simple, "Affirmed by spirit."

Holding the Wocobe Knife in front of his third eye, Chief Apa traces the sacred cross with two circles, invoking the ancient forces. "Guardians of the North, South, East, and West, be with us tonight, and every night. Especially for the sacrifice we make for Amacara." His voice trembled slightly as he lowered the knife over his heart. "Great Spirit, affirm yourself within her, so she knows the spark of the Sacred Fire will forever live inside her."

He lowered the knife toward the earth. "Long live Amacara, the beautiful, the child of Spirit and drop of hope that descended from Spirit Mountain. Thank you for blessing us."

In a swift and solemn motion, Chief Apa pressed the glowing knife into the flesh of his left thigh. Blood began to flow, and he gritted his teeth against the pain, increasing the pressure. He made deliberate cuts along the sides, then, gripping the edge of the knife and his own flesh, he tore a strip from his leg. His breathing in ragged gasps.

"Aho Mitakuye Oyasin," he whispered, his voice thick. "I have something to say." His words faded into a mumble, barely audible over the crackling fire.

“I  bestow the power of our ancestors upon Amacara," Chief Apa declared, his voice reverberating with intention, "to guide her through the darkness as she consumes flesh for the first time in this sacrificial rite, receiving her shapeshifted form. Raised in the light, she has always been light, shining brightest for us all. I know she will walk a noble path through the dark and illuminate the way for others to follow. Great Spirit, thank you for your wisdom. I pass my title as Chief to the hands and spirit of Amacara. Let all dimensions be alerted, and thank you for allowing this to be so.”

The Chief exhales for a long period, and as he inhales we see his light body ignite from his lowest chakra, rising through his spine creating a Rainbow Bridge. A gentle smile creeps across his face as he prepares to offer the sacrifice. Amacara, her eyes filled with love, met his gaze. A childlike grin bloomed on his face as their auras intertwined, their life forces glowing brighter together. As they shared this sacred moment, Chief Apa’s aura pulsed, transferring his energy into the offering he held.

“I accept this offering, Father, and will honor Great Spirit,” Amacara said, her voice steady. She lifted the sacrifice with reverence, as shadows from behind her. She paused. Holding the flesh, she takes her right middle finger and dips it into the blood. With an intuitive hand, she marks a cross on her forehead, encircling it with two sacred circles. Closing her eyes, she brought the flesh to her lips, took a bite, and began to chew. As her transformation began, she started growing feather out the back of her spine, as wings began to form on her back. As the sounds of boots and weapons approached her. She opened her eyes that were alive with fire, and in a spark, a burst of fire was cast out. Sending Chief Apa out of the trance.

Chief Apa, at the Central Fire collapsed onto the woven carpet under him. Chief Hoah, standing nearby, raised both hands to stop the tribe from rushing to Apa’s aid. “Let him finish, he will come to us.” she commanded, and they stood back. In the quiet space between moments, Chief Apa sat up, looking to Amacara. “Come my child”. With tears in her young eyes Amacara approached her father on the mat, now face to face.

Around them, the tribe carried on silently. Some holding the space while another begins to play a guitar, and a few other members of the tribe begin tending to the evening meal. As moments passed, time returned to its natural rhythm, and the two sat quietly . Chief Apa smiled at his daughter. “Hello, darling.”

“Hello, Father,” she replied, a small smile on her lips.

“Quite the show, huh?” he asked, chuckling softly.

“Yes,” Amacara said with a light laugh. “I definitely didn’t expect that to be the prophecy from Spirit. But it seems like it was already written into my path.”

Apa nodded thoughtfully. “It seems we’ve gotten a glimpse of how our time together will come to an end. Let’s make the most of it while we can.”

They laughed together, sharing the moment amidst the fading firelight.

After a long, reflective silence, Chief Apa spoke with a question, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning. “How do you feel about making this decision to transition timelines? You need to listen to yourself. In the moment, you will have the choice... to align with his timeline, or not. How does it feel, knowing you may need to cross over, to understand what lies on the other side of the veil?"

Amacara hesitated, her voice low as she answered, “It feels… frightening. I’ve lived in the light my whole life. The thought of entering the darkness, being taken by it, becoming it—it feels overwhelming.”

Chief Apa nodded, his eyes full of understanding. “Do you think I am darkness? Or your mother? Has our path ever disturbed you? Have we ever forced this upon you, or have we not provided a good life for you?” He paused, letting the questions settle before continuing. “Sometimes, understanding darkness means knowing how to shine your light even brighter, even in the darkest of places. Some are called to protect in the darkest of times, in the strongest ways. That is what this is about for you.”

Amacara looked as though she wanted to speak, but remained quiet, her gaze drifting downward. After a moment, she raised her eyes and said softly, “When the time comes, I’ll do the next right thing. I’m still young, and I fear change, but I can see the timeline I’m being drawn toward. I recognize my strength, and now, it’s time for me to learn how to move through fear and become a leader in my own way. I know Great Spirit will guide me. I know you will guide me, Father.”

Chief Apa smiled warmly. “Of course, my Sacred Child. I am here in service to the land, to the people, and I am here in service to you.” He straightened his posture, his expression shifting to one of quiet resolve. “So, you have been guided under your mothers teachings until now. How would you feel about beginning to train with me and the other men? If you are destined to be our Chief, I’d like to make sure you know how to protect yourself... As your build your intuition in moments of uncertainty, it will help teach you the way of the Chief. How do you feel about that?

“Well Father, this feels like one of those moments where I  have to build my intuition in times of uncertainty. So, yes, but I  would like to have spilt time between you and Mother. In order to be the best I  can be, I  feel that is important to learn the knowledge that each of you hold.”

“Great, training begins at first light, with the morning mist.”

Amacara met his gaze, her eyes steady. “So it is."

They leaned in, embracing tightly. As they held each other, the scene shifted—the river’s edge gleamed in the moonlight, the land stretched out around them, peaceful yet tense with the looming threat. In the distance, miles away, the invader’s camp lay hidden beneath the shadows. The decision Amacara would face was coming sooner than anyone could have anticipated.

This is the end of Act 1, Forged by Fire, of Amacara, The Pheonix of the Night.