“Welcome back, Alice.” my mother greets me as soon as my vision clears, her hand on my shoulder as she pulls me from the liquid, helping me sit up on the edge of the bath, the last bits of magic fading away. “Did you enjoy the Hunt? What did you see?” she asks me in an unusually gentle tone, not a shred of malice present in her words. She produces a towel and hands it to me.
“It was... intense...” I start slowly, wiping the moisture off my arms, a shudder running down my spine as I recall the memory of the encounter. “So... so many sights, so many beasts, and monsters... The Hunt! I saw it with my own eyes!” My lips curl up into an involuntary smile, excitement bubbling up in my chest. “And I saw It. It was beautiful, terrifying, and powerful beyond belief, mother! I knew I was meant to serve It, to worship It, to honor It.“ I exclaim, looking her in the eye as she stares back at me with an unreadable expression on her face.
“The awakening is a special moment in the life of every elf,” she nods, a strange smile tugging at her lips as she speaks, “to witness the holy presence of our god for the first time is an unforgettable experience. I can still remember my ceremony as clearly as if it happened yesterday.” Mother’s voice trails off momentarily, her mind going back to that memory. “I submitted myself to It, I obeyed It, and It gave me purpose, just like you,” she continues with renewed conviction.
Purpose? Just like me? I submitted and obeyed, no doubt, but what is it about a purpose? Did It give me one? Oh, no! Could it be... Those silenced words, that sentence I could not hear... Was that the will of our God? How am I supposed to follow It if I do not understand what It wants of me? Does that mean I failed to awaken? No, I never heard of someone failing on this part of the ceremony before. Damn rabbit! This is all your fault! This is bad... Should I tell mother about it? Is this the right course of action?
I open my mouth to speak, but she interrupts me with a hand gesture before I can get a word out. “No, don’t. The mission is a secret between you and The Hunt, understood?” Her commanding tone is back, just like that. It must be serious if she doesn’t even want me to tell her about it. Then again, I never heard of anyone discussing the experience with the people around them after awakening. Why didn’t I consider this sooner?
“Now get dressed. Or would you rather show yourself to the entire village naked?” her voice cuts through my thoughts. Oh. Right. I am still sitting butt-naked on the edge of the stone cauldron, covered in herbs and a mix of that magical liquid and sweat. I really need an actual bath, my hair is gross...
“Yes, you have enough time. If you stop wasting it now,” mother answers the unspoken question in my eyes, “Faelon went to fetch Orion already. He should be back shortly. Get a move on!”
I jump down from the edge and rush to the nearest source of water, a small stream flowing through the ceremony site, and begin washing off the gunk on my body. The cold water stings my skin, still sensitive from just enduring the scorching heat, but I force the discomfort down. Too slow... The priest isn’t some kind of sleaze like the one from the tribe north, but still, I don’t want to be ogled on my big day. I drop into the knee-high water, immersing myself entirely, scrubbing my skin and hair vigorously to remove the dried remains of the concoction.
Finally clean, I return to mother and put on the ceremonial garb she brought with her. Big words for what is just underwear and long white cloth. It covers enough of the essentials at least, and I guess that’s all it is for. Father is coming with the real outfit, after all. Mother smiles approvingly as I tie the knot around my waist, keeping the fabric in place. It seems that even she can’t contain her excitement about what is about to come. If only she was always like that...
The sound of footsteps alerts me to another visitor entering the sacred space of the ceremony. I look up to see my father walking into the ritual site, his white and gold chieftain robe swirling around him. Right behind him, the tribe’s only priest, Orion, follows. His tattoos have always fascinated me ever since I first laid my eyes on the intricate patterns covering his muscular body. Scenes of the hunt, so much like the ones I’ve seen during the awakening, adorn his skin, weaving through each other to create a mural of blood and triumph. A masterpiece of art dedicated to the God of Hunt.
My mother stands up from my side, taking her place next to my father, as he approaches me, his face uncharacteristically solemn. This is a serious event. He is playing his part in full and so must I. No more joking or laughing, no more being carefree. It is time.
I kneel in front of them and press my forehead to the ground, paying respect to them as my parents and elders, submitting myself to their judgment. Orion comes over, the cold tip of the spear poking at my neck. If he so wishes, a simple flick of the wrist is enough to sever my head from the rest of my body. He has the absolute authority in this rite of passage.
“What is your name, child?” The priest’s voice rings out above me, deep and intimidating, carrying a sense of ancient wisdom and authority in its tone.
“Alice of Elziheir, daughter of Faelon and Aelara,” I answer without hesitation, remaining perfectly still in my submission to the verdict of the old man.
“Who do you serve, child?” The cold edge of the spear presses against my skin, a small trickle of blood escaping the wound, sliding down my neck, staining the white fabric.
“I serve the God of the Hunt, our lord and protector. I serve the tribe of Elziheir and its people. I serve my parents and ancestors who have preceded me,” I proclaim with confidence, feeling a surge of pride welling up from deep inside me.
“Do you, Faelon the Windrider, find your daughter worthy of awakening? Do you acknowledge she is prepared for the road that lays ahead?” Orion asks my father, the steel of his weapon still lingering against my neck as he waits for his answer.
“I do,” my father speaks with pride ringing loud and clear in his voice as his hand grips the spear‘s handle.
“Do you, Aelara the Bladedancer, find your daughter worthy of awakening? Do you recognize she is prepared for the journey that awaits her?”
My mother nods confidently, without a moment of hesitation, as she grabs onto the shaft beside my father, holding the weapon steady. “I do.”
Together, they lift the weapon, releasing me from the trial of submission, leaving no doubt whether I am ready to be inducted into adulthood. The end of the spear now points high into the air, held vertically above their heads, in a sign of affirmation. I take a deep breath, savoring the last few moments of my childhood. Soon, I will become a warrior worthy of my tribe, a great hero who will be remembered in our stories for generations to come!
“Alice of Elziheir! In the eyes of our God, you are worthy! In the hearts of your parents, you are worthy!” Orion proclaims in a booming voice, filled with authority and confidence, that echoes across the area and beyond. He reaches for the bundle of armor that father carried here and places it before me. “As of this moment, you are no longer a child. Don your garbs of the warrior and prove to the tribe that you are one of us!”
I rise to my feet, my legs shaky, my fingers trembling in nervousness. I reach for the bundle of cloth and leather before me and pull it apart to reveal the full set of armor within. Beautiful pieces of black iron and orange-dyed leather sit in front of me. It’s gorgeous. A piece of craftsmanship that is easily worth months of work. Just how much did my parents spend on my awakening? I try not to think too much about it, focusing instead on putting it on.
The armor fits me perfectly. Hardened leather hugs my torso, providing excellent protection from attacks, while not restricting my movement too much. Metal plates cover vital areas while offering greater resilience than the softer leather against tougher hits. I attach the boots, leg guards, pauldrons, gauntlets, and the rest of the smaller pieces, protecting my joints with tough material, securing everything tightly to prevent them from loosening during combat. I move a little, getting used to the additional weight. My previous practice attire is by no means light, but the extra pounds brought by the metal will require some time to get used to. Still, it won’t hinder my movements too much.
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“I’m ready!” I announce, earning an approving nod from the three.
We leave the ritual site and walk out of the small grove into the temple proper. An extensive area of forest, surrounded by stone walls, which have been raised over centuries, serves as the venue of my awakening ceremony. The entire tribe is here, forming an audience for my performance, a sea of expectant faces watching me attentively. Every person I have known throughout my whole life gathered here to watch my awakening. I follow the priest to the dais above the main entrance, while my parents take a seat next to the rest of the village elders. Kneeling in front of the altar, I can feel all eyes fixated upon me, dozens upon dozens of curious eyes boring into my very soul.
“We have gathered here today to witness the trial of Alice, the daughter of Aelara and Faelon. May she walk the path of the hunter and bring glory to the tribe!” Orion begins his speech, his booming voice silencing any noise within the temple grounds. “Child of Elziheir, do you swear to uphold our beliefs, do you promise to dedicate your life to serving the will of our God, do you swear to protect our people from all threats, to keep us safe from those who wish to harm us, and to vanquish those who defy the ways of our tribes?” he continues, addressing the crowd around as much as he is speaking to me.
“I do,” I reply, keeping my gaze straight forward. It’s finally here, the last step of my ceremony. My heart is hammering in my chest, threatening to leap out of my rib cage from pure excitement alone. My entire body is shivering from anticipation as I wait anxiously for the signal from the priest.
“Alice of Elziheir! It is time for you to prove yourself before our people. Bring us the head of your sacrifice and fulfill the obligation you owe the tribe!” He exclaims with passion and determination, raising his voice higher, letting it echo out across the expanse of trees around us. Finally, the trapdoor opens under me with a click, dropping me down into the forest arena below.
I land with a thud, rolling to lessen the impact of the fall. Quickly regaining my balance, I survey my surroundings, looking for the location of the weapons rack. There! To my right, against the wall of the pit. I run over to the assortment of different spears, swords, axes, clubs, bows, arrows, knives, and other tools of the trade. Scanning through the array of weapons, I quickly find the one that feels most natural in my hand, the one taught to me by my mother since my earliest memories, a simple shortsword. Lightweight and quick, good for parrying or striking at an opponent’s weak spot. Strapping a buckler to my second hand, I hesitate for a moment over a bow and a quiver of arrows before ultimately deciding against it. I was never that good of a shot. Instead, I pick up a bundle of throwing knives, wrapping them around my non-dominant arm, making sure I secured them tightly in their sheaths.
Deep breath. One last moment of calm. I am ready. This is it. I step forward, ready to make my first kill as an adult.
Moving deeper into the trees, I search for the beast, listening intently for any sign of it, keeping my guard up high. It can’t be far. There is only a limited amount of forest within the enclosure, but there is no telling when or how it will strike. The silence is unsettling, no sounds of birds or animals, no rustling of leaves or snapping twigs. When I watched the awakening ceremony of the older children, the temple was filled with roaring monsters, attacking relentlessly, causing a grand spectacle that shook the entire village. What has my mother chosen as my sacrifice? Must be some kind of ambush predator then...
I tread carefully through the underbrush, doing my best to avoid making any unnecessary noise as I explore the dense woods, trying to pinpoint the position of my target. A slight rustle behind me, my ear twitching in response. I whirl around, bringing the buckler up to intercept the attack, but only empty air meets my guard. A false alarm? The hairs on my neck stand up. No, this feeling, something is wrong! I duck instinctively, narrowly avoiding an arrow aimed at my head, embedding itself into the tree next to me. Spinning around, I spot the enemy in the distance, a man holding a bow, glaring angrily at me, preparing another shot. I dodge another projectile by throwing myself to the ground, rolling behind a tree to put some obstacles between us.
A human? Has she gone mad? An awakened adult, judging from the depth to which the arrow embedded itself into the trunk. There is no way I can beat someone like that on my own. No, mother may be ruthless, but she would never just send me to death. This must be a test, an attempt to judge how well I can improvise, how I handle an unexpected situation. I peek out from the cover to get a glimpse of the man, but another projectile flies towards me, forcing me back into my hiding place. I look at the arrow sticking out from the tree, studying its length and thickness. That could definitely pierce my skull. One shot like that and I’m done. No room for error here.
“Come out, elf girl, daddy‘s got a special surprise for you.” a deep voice taunts from behind the foliage, a note of smug superiority in his words, clearly not considering me a threat at all.
A sudden whizz alerts me to another incoming attack, and I barely avoid getting skewered by the missile as it hits my pauldron, denting the hard iron plate. The attack came from the opposite side of where the voice came from. He can’t be that fast or I would be dead already. A skill? Must be something that allows him to project his voice. Clever tactic, it is already giving me trouble.
“Come on now, little elf. Where are you hiding?” The mocking voice taunts me again. “If you won’t play nice, daddy will have to punish you!“ The lustful undertone in his words sends a chill down my spine. Bastard!
Another arrow shoots through the air and I barely manage to put the buckler in front of my face in time to block the missile. My wrist burns from the impact, sending jolts of pain up my forearm. Can’t stay in this place. He has me out in the open here. I jump to the side, rolling behind another tree to break the line of sight again, taking advantage of the dense vegetation to reduce the archer’s advantage. I peek out briefly to check where my assailant is positioned, ducking back immediately when an arrow flies past my face. Damit!
I can’t survive like that. One wrong move and he gets me. The only way of winning I see is to get into the melee range and bet on my training in close quarters combat.
“Goddammit, elf bitch! Come out and play already! It’s no fun when I can’t see your pretty face!” I hear him shouting from somewhere behind me. I'll see if you will still be so eager to 'play' with my face after I smash... No, focus!
One more arrow whistles through the trees at my face, forcing me to dodge to the side. Again, directly opposite from his voice. Is that the only trick he has? I can use that! I move my sword to the non-dominant left hand and draw a throwing knife with the free right. Wait for it... My heart thunders in my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears like thunder as I prepare for my attack.
“Show me some skin, darling! Maybe if I get to see those tits, I’ll go easy on you!” his crude voice taunts me.
I turn my head in the opposite direction and see a man standing in the open and an arrow flying at my exposed throat. My body moves by instinct, twisting around to dodge the arrow and hurling the knife towards my adversary. Time seems to slow down as I watch my projectile sail through the air, while his arrow barely misses me, the point nicking my skin on the way past. His expression turns from amusement into shock when the sharp blade sinks into his thigh, slicing through the muscles.
Not waiting a second, my body springs into action, lunging forward towards the wounded man. He nocks another arrow in panic and takes a hurried shot in my direction, forcing me to throw myself down on the ground to avoid the attack. Not taking the chance, I scramble forward on all fours, closing the distance to my enemy before he can launch another volley at me. Realizing that I am getting too close, he drops the bow to the ground and draws the long dagger at his waist.
We circle each other cautiously, sizing one another up, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. His injury slows him down a bit, hindering his movements, but his class should give him an edge in raw strength and speed. How can I gain the upper hand? The adrenaline pumping through me helps suppress the fear I feel at being in such proximity to him. Focus! Take him down, survive! I cannot allow myself to lose this fight!
He launches himself at me with a swing of his dagger, aiming for my head. I parry the blow with my buckler, turning his blade aside, using the opening to lash out at his midsection with mine. He recovers in time to block my counterattack, stepping back from my assault, creating some space between us again. He feints a thrust, testing me, gauging my reaction. I let it pass, biding my time for an opportunity to strike. I can’t afford to overextend. One mistake is all it takes to finish me.
Please, God, give me the strength to win this fight! I pray internally, asking the God of the Hunt for guidance.
Our blades clash, metal on metal ringing in the quiet forest, the sun filtering through the trees, creating shadows that dance on the ground. I see it! The way to victory! I take a step back, inviting him to follow, pretending to falter. He accepts the invitation and lunges forward, eager to land a blow on me. A quick dodge to the left and I got him in the perfect spot. A small clearing in the trees, the sun behind my back shining brightly. He has to squint to see, blinded by the glare.
I thrust forward, aiming for his shoulder, missing by inches as he turns to the side to avoid my stab, my sword sliding harmlessly past him. He retaliates with a thrust of his own, aiming for my stomach. Now! I bend to the side, dropping the buckler, and grab his wrist, pulling him closer and out of balance. As he falls forwards, I step behind him, using the momentum to trip him up, sending him tumbling face-first into the ground. With my foot pressing down on his back, I slide the sword under his neck, catching the tip with my gauntlet. The blade slices through his throat, severing his head from his body as I pull with all my might. Blood gushes from the wound, spraying out, drenching my chest.
My victory. I am victorious! I grit my teeth, grunting in exertion as I yank his severed head upward, lifting it high above me in triumph. Adrenaline courses through my veins, sending my senses into overdrive, euphoria flooding me as the excitement of the battle subsides. I WON!