“Hurry up! If I’m running faster than you, than that is truly sad!” Yelled back Flare to her friends, daughter of noblemen and Chief Sapiens Unus of the Western Wolf tribe, the newest of all the tribes since after the wars.

Over a century ago, wars between the clans broke out. Some said that others were stealing prey and materials from their territory, and other accused them for murders, after some of their best Nobles, Healers, or Sights had gone missing; everyone pointed fingers at the other.

That was when they all decided to form the High Council, made up of, chiefs, elders, and Sights. To make the major decisions of who gets what territory, which shall receive more assistance such as healing herbs, food, or water when necessary. After that, things went back to normal, or so it seemed.

But that time of hatred was a thing of the past. In the Western Wolf Clan, today was a day for celebration! Today was the time that the oldest children became full-fledged members of their particular clan. Each with a unique talent watched over carefully by the eldest of the tribe.

Some would become Nobles, who are outstanding warriors, Healers, people with a knack for mending the ill, or Sights who where the ones who could predict important events in the future, and communicate with the world of the Spirits. This gift in particular is rare among the clans, so when a child was blessed with a talent such as this, they did not waste time preparing them for the life style of a Sight.

Today, young Flare would join the rankings of the strong-minded, willing spirits and magnificent fighters. All rare, but distributed evenly. However, in the past, Sights have been known for too much aggression or too little power over their sacred gift, which would ultimately lead to them betraying their kin, and destroying themselves from the power of their art.

Yet, today was a day to prepare the youngest warriors for their rapidly approaching futures.

Flare displayed every sign that would lead to a wolf’s spirit, bravery, determination, and self discipline, these where all the qualities that the tribal elders looked for in a young pup. Since they were half wolf, with ears, tails, teeth, eyes, and other features, they would use the same language as they did. They also followed necessary customs as their forefathers had done for centuries, like the Rising of the Young.

On this special occasion, Flare was doubling her training, in order to be fully prepared for the ceremony. She had been preparing for this ever since she found out that she had the talents of a Sight.
Running two laps around the planting fields, marksmen training when Great Light locator to read it was less than half way across the sky, and hand-to-hand combat drills for an additional movement to half day. Even though this seems like much, it was relatively normal, accept for the doubled amount on everything.

With the first two sessions of her training finished, now she was bolting to get her third done, and get cleaned up for her real test.

“Now, before you all make fools of yourselves, I will show you one last technique that could change your already pathetic standings.” Flare stood patiently, and respectfully for her teacher, Ventelus. She and her best friend Verita, would spend would the next Great Light movement preparing privately for their final tests. Not a usual test for lessons of teachings, a display the capability of a pup for the ceremony, the Rising of the Young.

Flare couldn’t help but shift ever so slightly in her stance, awaiting the illusive command to retrieve her weapons. A beautiful bow that her father hand carved him self, made of Osage orange wood, and a quiver filled with the finest arrows, Sitka spruce, with larger barred fletchings from a great horned owl. Perfect shots were always produced with these qualities. And a perfect marksman. Along with a dazzling silver dagger with a jade hilt, the blade made to be her claw length thick, and engraving on the rain guard of vines and leaves. All imported from the farthest regions of the lands, all the way across the Great Sea.

“Well? Go get your weapons.” Flare then bolted towards the stump, which held them captive for too long. She and Verita had lunged forward, strapped on everything, then headed straight for the course.

The course was a specially designed obstacle trail that tested your speed, agility, and quick strategizing tactics. All of which were essential for the Rising.

“You ready?” whispered Flare to Verita. They both stood in front of the entrance to the course.

“You two have absolutely no chance of performing well in your test, so this last tactic will help the very slim chances you have.” Flare laughed to herself every time her teacher gave them an inspiring talk similar to this one.

“Most likely you will fail, but this will change your standing entirely,” Ventelus had his assistant come to give them a visual. “If and when you engage in hand to hand combat, you must look for your opponent’s weak point and,”

“If I may say so Master, you have taught us to use the opponent’s weakness against them.” Flare was know to speak out of line on occasion, but to interrupt your teacher in mid sentence when they’re trying to teach you is extremely risky. Your punishments could vary from a minutes worth of scolding, or removal of participation in the Rising. However, Ventelus found Flare’s outgoingness rather amusing, he’d always admired her lack of fear and restraint.

“Yes, you’ve learned how to identify them, but you didn’t let me finish,” Flare was a bit disappointed in herself for thinking ahead of her teacher. For there was a reason he was the teacher and not her. “You have not yet learned how to manipulate it.”

Flare and Verita looked at one another for a moment, and then returned their focus onto their teacher. The gazed they gave him were full of confusion, but since he called his assistant, soon a visual would be given. His assistant, Silens Unus, a man of few words whose fighting ability was something incredible, he graduated under the Nobles. Flare always volunteered when visuals were given, even if it meant having the wind knock out of her, she thought it helped her get a sense of how her opponent would feel and get another view point.

But now, she had to give her weakness. Not easy for Flare, as any one in the clan knew, she had very few. However, one of her strongest was getting angry easily. Once, when she was only nine moon cycles old, a boy her age was making fun of Verita because she knew which plants were edible and thought it was unimportant. He kept pushing, shoving her to the ground and ripping the plants out of her grasp. Seeing this, Flare punched his snout, yelling at him to never dare do that again. Realizing who she was, he and his friends scrammed at the girl barring her half matured fangs.

That was the day she and Verita met, and never left each other’s side since. Yet that was when they were innocent pups, Flare would become an adult and a trainee for a master Sight, she couldn’t afford to loose her temper.
Now, this would be put to the test.

“Face, bow, GO!” Ventelus’ voice echoed through the trees. Flare and Silens locked in on one another, his eyes were unreadable, he had clearly worked on that, ensuring no one could read his emotions. Flare too had mastered that essential factor, she didn’t take training lightly. Her body moved with such fluency, circling, and maneuvering in such manners on the pads of her hind legs that the blade never touched, or came close her already heavily armored body. This too was critical because in the Rising ceremony, you’re required not to have any armor on. Just your ceremonial garments.

“Impressive,” it was uncommon for people in combat to converse with one another, “You haven’t demonstrated errors, yet.” Flare’s impulsive behavior caused her to shout, “What do you mean by,” No, he was trying to intimidate her it wouldn’t work. “That won’t work, unlike others I can control my self and my weaknesses. Unlike you.”

“What ever do you mean?” He did let a hint of fear slip through the cracks in his eyes, “Your left leg is not as strong as your right. I can see the way you lean more on your right than left. Even though it is very minimal, I still see. Not wise giving your secrets out.” She had him. Her sights gave her the answer fast than the river. Swinging her sword’s flat edge to his left calf, so quick he couldn’t have reacted in time if wanted to, knocking him to the ground. Pointing the end of her sword to his snout.

She had won. She passed this test.

Verita applauded as she always did. Giving each other a big hug whenever something good happened to the other. Silens bowed. Flare bowed. “You have progressed well, my lady,” any one who was not close or allowed in the clan to call Flare by her birth name would call her “lady”, no matter how much she despised the too feminine title, “it has been an honor to train with you for the time being.” Flare gave him her thanks and appreciation as well. For after the ceremony, she would move on to teach with the advanced trainers of her specific class. She would only see him at meal times and special rituals. Ventelus would too do the same. Every year brought the new pups, new students to break in, but anyone who trained the Chief’s daughter was proud. Not only by her high title, by her stunning urge to do perform well and please.
She would make them proud.

After good byes with their now former teachers, Verita and Flare went to go to Flare’s most hated activity. Preparations. This meant she had to take off her comfortable tribal clothes and put on less broken in ceremonial garments. She apparently had to look her finest, which wasn’t a strong suit, as everyone knew. The chief’s daughter wasn’t exactly, delicate.

Almusa, Flare’s waiting lady, had selected her a nice cloth that would suit her fussy lady’s personality. Flare’s top fur was pulled back so her flowing orange brown hair to a simple yet elegant look. Not hard to manage. A thigh length dress, a deep brown almost black with vines and leaves stitches embroidered in, tree bark colored pants the fit snuggly on her legs, and sturdy boots to her knees. For the finishing touch, a gift delivered by her wise father.

“Ah, don’t you look splendid,” Flare’s tall, broad shouldered father strode in to see his daughter off into the arena. Bearing, a gift. “My dearest daughter. I hope you will wear this in honor of me. For all of us.” He unwrapped a leather pouch to reveal a beautifully crafted headpiece of pure silver, woven to fit her family’s crest: vines and leaves wrapping around a small circular object, as if shielding it, embracing it.

At the center, snow quartz, a symbol of the spirits in some eyes, the size of the tip of her thumb, surrounded by smaller beads of howlite, representing purity, the small leaves and vines all gravitated to their center to shield and embrace. All imported from the farthest regions beyond the Great Sea and Vast.

Each tiny bead felt smooth and perfect under her rolling figures, curious to their touch. It was customary that the adults of the pup participating in the ceremony would bestow a gift of sentimental meaning, and glorious value. The first of only three valuable gifts given to each member of the Southern Clan. One, the treasure of the Rising, two, a gift of matrimony when wed, third, the parting legacy. The youngest member of your family places a gift from the tribe to take with you to the next stage of life.

But now was a much more meaningful time, Flare’s father held her gaze. Amazed at his daughter. Her natural beauty. Her wild beauty. Flare had never held something as precious and perfect as this. And knowing her father had personally had it made for her made Flare all the prouder. “I would be honored to represent our family with a glorious gift such as this, thank you so very much father. I shall treasure it always.” Placing the elegant, yet somehow, fierce looking band on her head, a sense of adult hood washed over her. She was prepared.

Stepping out into the brightness of half day, The Great Light high in the sky, birds singing all around, snapping of twigs of near by prey, her bow strung over her back, quiver full of arrow and sheath rattles at her side, life was perfect. Nothing would disturb this.

Once they were at the arena’s preparations area, Flare felt something she rarely ever experienced. Nervousness. If they elders did not believe she was ready, she would be held back and forced to continue training as a pup until the following year. Her peers would look down upon her. Knowing what a disgrace she was. Then her pride would be cracked, no, if she thought like that, then she would perform that way.
Flare’s deep concentration to hone in her lessons, and ability to sense, was disturbed by some one grabbing her from behind, and pulling her too close for liking.

“So, are you nervous? I could tell because your body tensed up a bit there, lovely, that beautiful headpiece really brings out your eyes.” Only one person in the entire village dared to call her “lovely”. Fortis. Know through out the tribe to be very honorable, for his father was Flare’s fathers second Chief. She liked him as a very close friend. But nothing more. Nothing less. That’s the way it was. That’s the way it would be.

“You know better than to just be free with your body language.”

“I don’t hear you denying it. So why should I stop?” He always had a gift of charming. Especially with girls. Especially with Flare.

“Now, don’t flatter yourself. We are both about to be tested. I cannot lose my concentration. Neither can you.”
Still having his arms wrapped around and body close. Her shoulder blades pressed to his chest. His head rested on her shoulders. Fortis seemed content having her wrapped in his embrace.

He would have continued to hold her. Thankfully, Flare’s father came in. In the clan, you normally don’t make body contact unless you’re engaged. But that usually didn’t happen till the person is 18 moon cycles old.

“So, are you two ready?” Both gave assuring nods to hide their previous engagement. “Yes we are as ready as the spirits would wish us to be,” Fortis always spoke as adult like as possible to make him seem older. He would not have to wait for much longer. Many would. Hopefully, Flare as well.
As he opened his muzzle to speak, the trumpets sounded.
“Good luck.”

“Father you know I believe in no such as luck.”

“Yes, but you’ve always been my luck charm.” Placing herself in his warm embrace, he silently wished her the best of luck.

It was time to show them she belonged.

Fortis stepped through the tunnel flaps to the arena with applause loud enough to be heard from the outside. He always made an entrance. “My dear, I have something to ask,” Flare’s heartbeat raced, she thoughts began racing through her mind, Has he seen Fortis’ actions towards me? Will he punish me, or worse the both of us? Wait till he answers. Wait till her answers.

“I have been thinking my child, that you are about to become a women. A leader. A Sight. You are indeed nearly 15 moon cycles old now, it’s time to start finding someone who will be your mate,” he paused, “shall we say, Fortis?” No, I wish not to marry yet Father. I wish to be wed on my terms. On what I decide. To love whose heart chooses mine, and mine to his. Is she wanted to protest with, but all she could muster was a weak, “Well, he is decent. I do care for our friendship as well. I only wish not to jeopardize that.”

Flare’s eagerness dropped. She did not wish to go out there and fight, she now wished to run deep into her woods, hide. Sit up on the rocks high up near the rivers that rushed. Like the deep rolls of thunder drummer of the sky pounding his music in the land. Yet, white like the white smoke held by the sky that secretly held tremendous power beneath its cotton exterior. To be the river, forever changing, undefined by its surroundings. To never have to be contained. To be water. To fall from the sky wet and round in Long Waters of the year, or frozen and frigid yet delicate and graceful in the time of Ice, or roll through the endless Great Sea. Wild, untamable, yet smooth like the metal of her reflection in her looking glass. To her dismay, it could never be. She was Flare, whose father had chosen a mate for her. Fortis. Her child hood friend. Now, her mate to-be.

“I know it may be sudden,” his powerful voice like the sky drummers broke her wishes of glass into shattered shards of nothing. Un-mandible. “You will learn to love him, as all have.” Fortis’ time was up; she heard the elder silence the crowd, speaking his passage to the teachers of the Nobles. Everyone has already passed with amazing remarks. Even quiet Verita, astounded the elders with her abilities.

Flare prayed they would do the same for her. The time was hers now.

As she stepped out from the dim lit waiting area inside the arena, the sudden brightness hurt her eyes. Her heart pounded harder than the thunder drums. Her thoughts swam faster than the rushing rivers. Worst of all, she became nervous.

Making her way to the center, pacing herself, another feeling came in. The sense of awareness swept over her body. This only happened when she was about to predict something using her Sights. But this pain was much worse. Her suffering inside was visible clearly on her face. Her muzzle fanned back revealing her gleaming fangs. Her eyes shut tight. Flare’s body seemed like it was caving in. Her mind filled with a loud hum that consumed her thoughts.
Many stood up and began asking is she was alright. Flare didn’t respond.

Images flashed through her mind like the Light Striker hitting the land with her powerful blows of light. Sister to the Sky Drummer. Fortis and Verita stood up from their seats where the newly anointed members went after their ceremonies. Somehow, Flare knew she wouldn’t be going there after this.

Before anyone could enter the ring to help her, her eyes beat open, revealing pure white. The opaque color matched her stone, both beginning to glow. Words of the ancient times fell from her lips, a prophecy that had not been heard in centuries, was re-told, “The child is born of the majestic and all seeing fires. She shall be thy portal. She shall come to the, and bring forth destiny’s hands to mere mortal. Hard to define, unreadable strength, the Jade will bring to the bridge to time its self, and save from eternal danger.”

Screams filled the air as Flare fought the magic that possessed her body. Her eyes ceased to glow and returned to their color of gray and blue. Her gem lost its fire like shine. Her breathing became heavy and thin. Flare’s body gave way. The world dimmed to a midnight black.

Just before an early night descended upon her, Flare looked up. A dark being jumped down, and shrouded her in darkness. The images were real.

The last thing she heard was the screaming of her village.