The girl woke.

Her eyes, widened by an irrational fear, dilated to pinpricks and darted to and froe as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. It was dark; she could not see anything. Well, this was not entirely true. She could only see that which her mind supplied, filling the rumbling darkness with nightmares. She kept getting jostled at times. That meant, paired with the rumbling she felt and heard, she was in a carriage of some sort. She heard shouts, getting further and further away. This would be comforting, but she could only feel that she had to get back to them. Them? Who is them? Who was she?

A voice, muffled, spoke to her in the darkness. "Shh, go back to sleep, child, and worry not about your plight. It will all be over soon, and you will be home."

Home... She thought. Yes, home. She had to get home! Back to her family! But before she even realized it, her eyes began to grow heavy with the man's words -- for it was most certainly male, deceivingly soothing and comforting. But she sensed danger and fought the magic instinctively. She knew it to be magic, indeed. Knew it; but did not understand why it was being used on her. It made her forget...

Silver eyes fell shut as another man's voice cried out to her in desperation before all faded into distant memory.

"Serena!"

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"Welcome, friends and family alike!" The clear voice of Elder Ho Shan pealed through the assemblage with the conclusion of the Kula. To the Outsiders, the Kula was a haunting call, inspiring a certain amount of foreboding and making others' fur bristle. But to those who knew and understood it's history, it brought comfort and pride in those who heard it, for its history was deeply rooted in the origin of magic. The Kula's called magic into the world when they were sung by the Great Mother. And, when sung by a shaman, they could even unlock dormant magic within the blood of one of their own. Such an occurrence was rare, however.

The Elders knew of another purpose for the ancient calls, though, one that would be implemented after the festivities were over and the time for Faolan's departure approached.

But for this instance, this particular Kula was used to herald Faolan's entrance as he walked through the silent village center, stopping only when he was before the three Elders. All were of differing species: a white wolf, red fox, and half fennec-half arctic fox. Respectively, Ho Shan at the center, Venra Tsa at his left, and to the right, Nawen Voss -- Faolan's grandfather, and current leader of their Tribe. As was custom, and to remove any bias that may be present, the Elders of two other tribes were required for this particular ceremony, which is why all Tribes had at least three that were native to their Tribe.

Elder Shan continued, "It is with great pride that we celebrate our candidate for the Season, our own Faolan Voss!" The crowd cheered and yelled their support for him, but the noise only made Faolan more nervous. To him, this should've been a private affair, but he understood that this ceremony served to bring together their spread-out community. Nawen nodded to him knowingly. He knew his grandson's thoughts and agreed with his sentiments. The Voss family had never been much for all the pomp and circumstance of these kinds of occasions. Faolan spared him a small smirk before his expression faded to a more neutral one, hoping Shan didn't notice.

No such luck, as the young fox cursed inwardly at the disapproving glare he received. Whoops. The amusement in his grandfather's blue eyes certainly wasn't helping matters.

"And it is he who will lead his fellow Candidates into a wonderous Season."

Now this was new. He thought to himself, noting that not a few in the crowd looked confused at the addition to the usually standard speech. He looked on curiously, listening intently as Elder Tsa finished Shan's announcement.

"This Season, a ship shall be granted to the one most able to protect and guide the Candidates while at sea. And to command it as his own personal vessel."

It was all he could do to not let his jaw hang open, though it did fall open briefly. His tail twitched as he caught his grandfather's proud look. "Captain Voss, you have shown remarkable seamanship in the past years as part of all the candidate's training. It is with great pride that we, the Elders of Ísey, collectively gift you the Arcanen." A pointed look was thrown at Elder Shan, revealing that the gift wasn't as collective as it may be announced as. He wondered whose brilliant idea it was to name it after the creature he was oft-compared to, in regard to his larger-than-normal ears.

Inwardly, he was elated by this surprise, the emphasis on Captain not lost on him. But that elation was also tinged with a certain amount of nervousness. He didn't know what he should've expected out of this event, but it definitely had not been this. But before he could have time to wrap his head around the matter, the Elders had already moved on to the last portion dictated by tradition. A brief spiel wishing him good fortune, followed by a brief prayer that the Great Mother watch over him and the rest of the Candidates.

With the formalities concluded, the festivities went into full swing.

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Faolan politely declined the 9th request to dance with him that evening. From the same vixen, no less. Sure, she was pretty and all, but he didn't feel like having that kind of fun after the festival. She turned away with a huff and a flick of her white-tipped tail. He smirked as she forced herself onto yet another hapless fox. And, if her already scantily clad curves were any indication, he wouldn't be the only prey this evening.

He felt a presence at his shoulder and turned to see his mother also had her attention on the female red fox. It's nice when her disapproving glare is turned to other targets for a change. He thought to himself with amusement.

"Her parents are probably very ashamed." She finally said.

Her son laughed, "Depending on the family, they probably put her up to it." The older Voss conceded that fact, albeit begrudgingly.

"A fair point."

Faolan smiled.

Some minutes later, and it was time for another dance. This time, with his family. Traditionally, both the father and the mother would join their son in a ring for this particular dance. But, with his father gone, Elder Nawen volunteered in his son-in-law's stead. For so pivotal a dance, this was the best they could offer.

The drums came in first, and the three stood in a small circle. After some amused glances at the old half-fennec arctic fox, the rough baritone began the first notes, followed by the smoother tenors. It truly was a heavenly experience as the dance progressed. Though, Faolan couldn't help but feel a gnawing sadness that his father couldn't be here for this. He saw his own feeling were shared by his mother and grandfather, each sharing a look that said, 'we do this for him.'. He blinked away tears with a bittersweet smile as the song ended, and with it, the conclusion of the main events.

"Thank you, Grandfather." He said quietly.

The Elder smiled and nodded, "It's the least I could do for my family."

The rest of the festival was spent either raiding the food stalls with his hunting buddies or alternating between dancing with his mother or some of his other friends. Everyone he bumped into congratulated the young arctic fox on his new gains, to which he responded graciously in acceptance. But still, why had he been given this new responsibility? Usually, there would be a ship to ferry them across the Pale Sea. What's changed? It left him worried.

Again, his mother appeared at his side, though, her eyes betrayed the presence of alcohol, glazed and unfocused.

"Faolan! There you, hic- are!" She grinned while cocking her head in a questioning manner, "Where's that young vixen lass run off too? I'd like to have a couple words and a few more drinks while you're at it!" She started giggling before she stopped to wink at a particularly delicious looking wolf, in her intoxicated mind at least.

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Faolan only laughed, "Alright, mother, fun time's over, let's get you home." Thankfully, he knew how to deal with his mother when she was in this state.

Ansli pouted, "But-- hic-"

"No 'but's. It's way past your bedtime, young lady."

"Young?!" She scoffed, "I've been here since before you were born!"

He spared a laugh while guiding her by the arm away from the partygoers before she tried to go after the wolf she had been eyeing mere seconds ago. "I would hope so, mother."

Unbeknownst to him and his mother, three sets of eyes watched the pair's departure from the festivities.

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Elder Nawen glared at his two fellows, "So, when are you geezers going to tell my grandson what he needs to know?" The Elders chose not to participate in the festivities, being preoccupied with their own thoughts and concerns. Rumors had surfaced months ago of a traitor among the People, and it had the three on edge. Needless to say, the news did not sit well. Tradition be damned; Nawen ensured that the Arcanen was ready before the Season officially began and had implemented training among the candidates for more advanced seamanship. Most Tribes taught basic sailing and the skills necessary to fish efficiently, but that wouldn't be enough if the Candidates were stranded beyond the Pale. The white wolf Elder refused to believe in such rumors.

Elder Shan flicked his ears and only spared an annoyed glance at the bristling Elder beside him. "I did not expect him to leave."

The fact that the Elder pointedly ignored his question was not lost on the irate half-fennec, but, before he could retort, Elder Tsa interjected. "We shall simply send a summons in the morning. Before dawn, when the potential is at its highest." After all, it is most preferable to do important magics at auspicious times.

Elder Nawen glared at Venra briefly before sighing, understanding that now was not the time to be arguing -- especially not here, in front of the community. An example must be set -- and then kept -- always.

"Fine." He growled out.

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Their walk home was uneventful, thankfully. Ansli Voss did end up shouting at a squirrel for 'talking back' to her. Faolan didn't know whether to laugh or be concerned that his mother started talking to animals. The moon and stars provided light enough so that neither of them tripped on a stray root. The young fox in particular not wanting a repeat of last night.

As mother and son reached the front door to their modest house, she hesitated -- or so it seemed to Faolan.

Concern furrowed his brow as he looked to his mother. "Is something wrong?"

She stared at the letter ingrained in the center of the wooded door. The letter, 'V'.

"I wish he was here..." Such a simple statement. Yet, it was laden with the familiar feeling off loss that accompanied most thoughts of Aiden Voss.

Faolan said nothing.

"To see you, all grown up." There was no trace of the inebriated fox that was present mere moments ago at the festival. Only a grief-stricken widow stood before the door, and a boy -- now a man -- left fatherless.

The young arctic fox sighed, his sadness a weight on his soul, shared by his mother. "I know...me too."

They stood there in a half-embrace, his mother leaning into him for support, not sober, as her recent shift in mood would suggest.

"Come on," Faolan prompted softly, after about a minute or two of companionable silence. "Let's get you inside where it's warmer."

While his mother fell asleep almost the instant she hit the bed, Faolan had much more difficulty thanks to his worries and doubts resurfacing. But eventually, sleep took him.

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"Faolan."

A voice called to him at a whisper, and he woke suddenly as a bluish glow filled his room. He quickly identified its source to be a sphere of magic entering through his open curtains. His mother must have left it open from the previous morning, when he was bathing in the river. He stared at it, confused due to drowsiness, and not yet wary of the strange piece of magic.

"Uh, hello...?" He whispered back.

"Faolan, it's Elder Nawen. You are called to meet before the Aldste in one hour's time. It's important, so don't be late." Came the reply. By the end of the message, he was profoundly confused. Why couldn't this wait till morning? Glancing outside, the sky was just barely tinged a lighter pink, still mostly a deep purple fading to black.

He protested. "But it's just barely the pre-dawn hours..."

"We know. We will be at the mouth of Viskar."

The Cave of Whispers?! That place is taboo for those who do not wish nightmares every night and on waking! Those who come within listening range of the voices reported to come from the mouth of the cave are almost always turned away out of fear. What makes the Elders think he'll be safe near that place, let alone at the mouth of the cave itself?

"But--"

He was interrupted. "One hour. Don't be late."

It took only a few minutes for him to get dressed, back into what he wore a few hours previously. Thankfully, the whole outfit was enchanted to clean itself using World Energy, so it wasn't dirty. Magic was handy, indeed. It was also useful in ensuring his steps were quiet, along with reducing the noise of the creaking door hinges, to not wake his mother. Then again, she might still be in her semi-alcohol-induced slumber, so maybe he needn't have bothered. One can't be too cautious, he reasoned.

The trek to Mount Viskar was a bit of an annoyance, though, with the undergrowth that was never cleared along the path that led to it. Because who in their right mind would willingly go there? Guess that puts me in the wrong mind, then, eh? He thought to himself as, yet another branch slapped him. It was too damn dark to be taking a hike right now.

But he got there eventually, and there was his grandfather with the other two, Elders Tsa and Shan, looking grim and serious indeed. That, paired with the imposing figure of Mount Viskar - steep slopes and cliff faces slick with spray from waterfalls, and vegetation that clung to it stubbornly, to boot - made for a daunting image.

As he got closer to the three, he noticed there was a distinct lack of the whispering that the cave took its name from. Faolan didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. Relieved, because he didn't hear the whispers. Scared, because he didn't know why there weren't any whisperings emanating from the cave entrance, as it is reputed to have.

"Faolan Voss." Elder Shan spoke first, his tone foreboding. The young arctic fox stopped before the Aldste and began to bow, as was tradition, but his grandfather stopped him.

"None of that, boy. There isn't much time." He looked up; the confusion plastered across his muzzle making the need for words all but non-existent.

After a look of annoyance from Shan to Elder Nawen, Venra Tsa got to the point before another argument broke out between the old wolf and fox.

"You are aware that you are a Wyldborn. The Outsiders would call you Wild Mage. Do you remember the difference between you and normal mages?"

Faolan paused, frowning. This entire conversation made no sense to him, but he answered anyway, hoping for enlightenment.

"The Wyldborn have an easier time using different elements of magic, as we were once able to when the Great Mother was among us. As now, without her guidance, magic users lost that natural affinity and began to be limited to just one of the elements, usually." He looked to each Elder in turn, comforted, if only slightly, by the nods of confirmation that accompanied his response.

"You were born for all magic." He looked at Nawan, confused again. "What do you mean?"

Elder Shan interjected after a throwing a strange look at the fennec Elder for his impatience. "What we're trying to say, is that being Wyldborn doesn't just make it easier to use more types of magic. It enables you to use all magic."

Faolan's silver eyes widened. It was all preposterous; it had to be made up. But why call him here, then? "What do you mean...?"

Nawen nodded, "Exactly that. You have the potential to use all magic as if it were a part of you. To become one with it in a way we could only dream of."

Being Wyldeborn was nothing new to him. But now that he had the knowledge of what it entailed... It explained things. Why he was able to do things with magic so quickly, and effectively. But only with ice. He recalled when he accidently froze the river behind his home -- he had only been practicing with icing over a small portion, and it got out of hand quickly. The power burned through his body in a way that was dangerously intoxicating. It both terrified and enraptured him.

But there was the other thing, "Why tell me this here, now?" He tilted his head with his inquiry, hoping to get the answer soon, rather than later. Elders sure loved to beat around the bush by adding seemingly pointless stories to their explanations.

Surprisingly, it was Eleder Shan who answered, betraying a rare moment of impatience.

"Your abilities as a Wyldeborn currently lie dormant for the most part. On your own, you would learn to attune yourself to the World and unlock your affinity naturally. As it stands, we have no such liberties. Time is of the essence, so we called you here, to the Cave of Whispers, to listen to the Voice of the World."

Faolan's eyes widened, "The-"

"Voice of the Great Mother, yes." Shan completed. "She either blesses you with Her favor or ignores you." Nawen spared the wolf an annoyed glance before elaborating further, "The whispering that comes from the cave is a result of ancient magic, deep in the mountain. It's a warning. And a night like this is rare. The whispering is silent, and it is safe to enter."

The young fox looked to the two full moons, one silver, the other shrouded in light purple, tinted with a white glow. Now that he watched, an eclipse was just now beginning to take effect. Suddenly, the air stilled, and all of the forest life grew silent as a presence suffused the area.

Calm...

That is what he felt. But before he could dwell on it, the three Elders had moved back from the entrance of the cave. Shan in particular was startled as the curtain of vines hanging from the entrance of the cave parted, leaving the way unobstructed.

It welcomed the young Wyldeborn.

And, with a deep breath, he ventured into the unknown.