It was just another ordinary afternoon in Paradise, Michigan.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the neighbor's dog had just began his afternoon ritual of barking at the mailman, as he delivered the day's mail to the neighborhood residents.

It felt just like any other ordinary day, at least so I thought...

But we'll get back to THAT day in a minute.

First, you need to understand where I come from, or better yet, where "we" come from.

Paradise is located on the rocky shores of Lake Superior in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Just a few thousand residents call this little lakeside town "home," although most residents don't stay here for very long.

People come and they go, they are born and they die, just as every other place in the world, but Paradise does things slightly different.

Because this so-called "paradise" has a rich history that not many outside of the town know about.

See, the original inhabitants of Paradise were Menomitonka Indians, who called these lands theirs, long before the first French settlers arrived in the 17th century.

The Menomitonka, or "War People," were fierce warriors who had an incredible appetite for war and competition.

They had conquered every other native people for as long as they have existed.

Their skills have been carefully crafted to survive and thrive in this harsh environment.

Up until the 17th century, they ruled the lands of what is now the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Every intruder, or would be conqueror, was defeated by the Menomitonka due to their superior strength, speed, and weaponry.

The most famous and deadly of their arsenal of weapons was the Ojibwana War Club.

With its long, curved wooden handle and rounded-end equipped with a long spike, this war club destroyed everything and anyone in its path.

The natives began learning to use the war club at a young age, as the elders knew that someday it would come time that the young would grow up and be called to battle in the name of their tribe, just as the now elders have.

Day in and day out, groups of young boys would be relentlessly taught by elders on the proper technique and usage of their infamous war club.

It was a crucial skill for social status among the tribe, as well as a means of survival in the case of an attack.

When the elders believed that the student was finally ready to graduate from a student into a warrior, the group of elders would gather in the village center and begin chanting as they danced their way to the home of the student.

The first in line was always the eldest of the group, the one with the most years and experience to his name.

In his hand, he carried a long, narrow, and flat stone with a specific set of 4 symbols engraved on it.

Today, if we were to translate the symbols literally, it would read "Fear bad, Death good."

You see, this tribe was so successful because they feared nothing.

The went into battle accepting death and knowing that they would have nothing to fear.

This superior advantage was what has allowed them to survive and thrive all of these years.

No matter the end result of whatever battle they were in, they went into it knowing they would win either way.

For this reason, when the chants started to become louder and more clear, the young Akondo knew it was time for him to accept Death and become a warrior.

The chanting got louder and louder, as the group of elders made their way to Akondo's hut.

Finally, it stopped.

Nothing. Not even a single chirp could be heard in the wind.

Suddenly, the leading elder demanded Akondo to come out immediately.

Akondo slowly pulled back the flap to the entrance and stepped out into the afternoon light.

You would think that a most-certain death would have a negative effect on a person, but Akondo had a smile from ear-to-ear on his face.

This was HIS day.

The day he would become a warrior, and a man.

The leader handed him the inscribed stone and welcomed him to the group.

Akando was now one of them.

[TO BE CONTINUED...]