Chapter One:
Dorea stood at the edge of the great white cliff that towered over her family’s ranch, her eyes fixed on the vast expanse of the sea.
The salty scent of the ocean filled her nostrils, and she felt the wind whipping through her hair as she gazed at the horizon.
In the distance, the air shimmered and vibrated, creating distortions that made it seem as if the world was a rock under the full might of the summer sun.
She had heard tales of Nature’s Wrath, the catastrophic events that reshaped lands, and the lives of everyone who resided there. Seeing one approaching with her own eyes was something else entirely.
As she looked out at the approaching storm, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The world was a harsh place, and it often reminded its denizens of it, but this seemed like a trial of the worst kind.
Even at this distance, she could make out grand arches of lighting flashing between the gales and the wall of water falling from the dark sky.
She knew well that this was both a curse and a blessing, seeing how the village’s Shaman ensured every kid knew of their duty.
They would have to withstand Nature’s Wrath outside the shelter built for the adults and babies to prove their worthiness to the Mother and hope she would bless them in return.
Dorea also knew that the chances of them all surviving were slim, but since they were supposed to be drugged to the gills by the time the storm made landfall, she knew there was no chance of them helping each other.
All her hard work in setting up the new habitat for the Moas would be for nothing. Her father had already explained how, for all their preparations, they would need to readily bend to Mother Earth’s whims to make sure not to break.
Attempting to save worthless things such as those could spell their doom.
Dorea's thoughts drifted to the village of the Ubags, which her tribe had traded with for centuries. An earthquake had destroyed her ancestors’ village and claimed a good ten percent of its population.
However, that was nothing compared to being buried alive underneath a mountain. Not a single survivor was found after days of searching, and her people could only come to the conclusion that the entire village hidden in the mountain of the Ubag people had simply ceased to exist.
The aftershocks that continued for weeks convinced everyone of the wisdom of relocating to a calmer land, so the long journey to the coast of Loisos began.
As Dorea watched the storm approaching, she knew that her tribe had chosen these lands for a reason: the climate was mild, even the winter season was not too harsh, and they were away from any kind of fault lines. But even with all their preparations, they would need to be ready to face whatever Mother Nature had in store for them.
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Small, muddy feet pounded the sodden ground, doing their very best to convey all the annoyance and rage at being forced into the shelter against their will they could.
Her sister, Lia, was pouting full-blast, desperately hoping that someone would recognize her as a “big girl” and therefore ready to face the upcoming Trial, but Dorea’s mind was elsewhere.
Her rucksack was stuffed to the brim with everything she could think of as being helpful and some things that might not be, but one could never be too careful.
“It’s not fair! You know that I’m much better than Jonah at basically everything, I should be out there with you, and he should be inside!” the little blonde yelled with as much outrage as she could.
Dorea turned towards her, an exhausted smile on her lips. However worried she was, she still forced herself to not dismiss her sister. She knew very well what kind of opportunity this was and that the dangers must have seemed all too easy to ignore.
“You are definitely braver than Jonah, and if I could, I would have you with me over anyone else, but no one under thirteen has ever managed to successfully receive the Mother’s gift”, she tried to placate “Besides that, considering that the full might of the storm is still half a day away and the winds have managed to send flying every piece of laundry in the valley, I wouldn’t bet on them not picking you up and launching you into the sea”.
Lia was obviously not appeased, as logic was complicated for a nine-year-old tomboy hell-bent on adventure. However, she recognized her big sister’s tone and knew she wouldn’t find an ally in her. Dorea being her very last resort, she let out a frustrated scream and ran out of the door, likely to pester their father in a last-ditch attempt.
Dorea would usually follow her to try and calm her down, but today was not a typical day, and her mind was entirely focused on surviving the future hours. A mixture of dread and excitement pooled in her belly that resembled the sensation of falling.
She looked out of her window towards the sea, where she could see the still-growing storm and imagine it being filled with a malevolence that only came with sapience, a will determined to wipe her and everyone she had ever known out with prejudice.
Surviving the Wrath would come with many boons. It would mean a better life for the whole village, considering that they were down to just one Gifted and still were doing much better than they would without.
The blonde girl actively returned her focus to her preparations, knowing that she would never spend much time thinking about the minutiae of governance and wealth if she wasn’t trying to distract herself from the impending Trial.
“Dorea!” came the shout from downstairs, her father’s powerful voice jolting her into action.
“Coming!” she yelled back, putting her favourite pendant in the bag that would go with her family to the shelter.
As much as she would love to cling to her grandmother's gift during this trying time, she would never forgive herself if she lost it, which was likely to happen when undergoing the Trial and not in her full mental capacity.
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She gave one last long look at her room, knowing that if she ever came back here, she would be very different from what she was now.
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Dorea launched herself into her father’s waiting arms, breathing in his scent and relished being comforted like when she was little and had just had a nightmare.
“We really need to get going, dearest”, he rumbled, breathing in her scent one last time before reluctantly releasing her from his arms.
“We need to go get your mother; she sprinted to the Shaman as soon as the bell started ringing to help him prepare, so she’ll be there to walk you through the ceremony”.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready now, Dad, thanks”, Dorea replied, knowing that delaying anymore would just give her cold feet.
She ruffled her sister’s hair one last time and picked up her two rucksacks, ready to leave her family’s home for what could be the last time.
Her eyes roved over the wooden furniture and leather decorations; they stopped over her chair in the dining area, the kitchen where she helped her mother make many meals, and the fireplace where she listened to her father’s stories during more normal storms.
She tried her best to ingrain every detail of her home in her mind, suddenly struck with a feeling that even if she returned here, things would never be the same.
A small hand gently closed around hers, returning her to the present, and she turned to see her sister’s worried gaze, a frown starting to form.
“Everything is going to be alright, Lia”, she comforted and started walking towards the open door where her father awaited them.
The thunk of the door closing felt much louder than usual, but she strode ahead with her head held high.
“The Moas are all accounted for and have enough food in their cave to last a few days. The Anoas are likewise settled in the smaller cave northeast of the Moas.” her father started, rambling as she knew he did when trying to take their minds away from something.
“We really couldn’t keep them together; those damn birds would have definitely tried to eat some, no matter how much food we left them.”
They slowly made their way on the path leading them out of their ranch and into the unimaginatively named Whitecliff. As her father kept going on about the preparations they had made in hopes of salvaging something after the Mother’s Wrath had struck them, she found comfort in the rumble of his voice and the knowledge that she had done all she could to prepare for something that no one was ever ready for.
“The crops are done for, of course, so we’ll all have to pitch in a bit after everything to help the farmers out, but there is a reason why we all have to set some food aside in the village storage, so it shouldn’t impact our personal stores too much.”
“And by then, Dorea will be Gifted for sure, so she’ll be able to hunt some big animal for everyone to eat”, piped up Lia, apparently over her worry for her sister’s safety or desire to participate in the coming Trial “She’ll be super strong and much better than that stupid Jonah!”
Dorea smiled in gratitude for the unwavering trust the little blonde put in her and amusement at how she still wasn’t over the baker’s boy being included in the ceremony while she was not.
She gave Lia a look. “I’m sure everyone who passes the Trial will do their best to help the village recover from the Wrath.”
The only reply was a tongue sticking out, which caused their father to chuckle. “I have all the faith in the world in Dorea’s ability to make it and that she’ll be a great help, but she will have to take some time to get comfortable with her Gift before we can send her out in the wilds to hunt.”
The trust in his voice warmed her heart, and she took courage in his certainty that she would make it.
The time passed quickly, and soon enough, they were standing in front of the Shaman’s house, a sight she was almost as familiar with as her own home, considering how her mother spent quite a few days helping to prepare poultices and to care for the now elderly man.
Dorea spotted the shaggy white mane of hair that belonged to Voggo, the owner of the house, in the middle of a group of teenagers and young adults and braced herself for the last time before turning to her family with a smile.
Her father gave her an encouraging nod, and she received a tremulous grin from Lia.
There was no need to say anything more, so she simply joined the crowd of thirty or so others who would attempt to survive the coming Trial to gain incredible power.
A hand snaked out of the mass to grab her wrist and pulled her towards a brunette. “You finally made it! I was starting to think that you would get cold feet.”
Dorea rolled her eyes at the jab, not taking the words seriously. “You know that between the preparations we needed to make and the walk here, I’d be the last one, Beth.”
Her friend smiled mischievously. “And your mother, the Shaman’s assistant, would never allow you to skip on it.”
The blonde merely inclined her head, conceding the point and focusing on the entrance to the house, where a woman was bustling out, arms filled with a cauldron that contained a sloshing silvery liquid.
A thick curtain of golden hair partially covered her face, and her eyes were fixed on the kids, looking for someone specific.
As soon as she noticed Dorea, a small smile bloomed on her face, and she relaxed her shoulders, releasing a tension that had been invisible until that moment.
She moved towards the Shaman, offering no more acknowledgment to her daughter or her friend, who was left standing at the back of the group.
Dorea watched as her mother began to help old Voggo with the preparations, setting the cauldron down in front of him and producing various herb pastes for him to mix into it.
Everyone quieted down, mesmerized by the skillful motions and starting to finally realize that they were a stone's throw away from changing their lives entirely or, in the case of the more unfortunate ones, ending them.
Beth’s hand tightly gripped her own, in both a show of support and a request of it. Their hands were clammy, and she would have usually made a joke out of it, but at the moment, she couldn’t help but be grateful for her dearest friend’s presence.
Dorea did her best to focus on the preparations and not slide back into worrying about the near future, knowing there was nothing else to do. The Mother had decided to test them, and their lives would never be the same.
The elderly Shaman chanted for a short while under his breath, the words too soft for her to make out, and the concoction glowed momentarily before settling.
It’s time. Please, Mother, protect us.
“Children, form a line and get prepared to drink your portion; I don’t want to hear any complaining about taste or texture!” Voggo shouted, his voice easily heard in the silence. “This is necessary unless you want to end up like an enhanced beast, unable to fully control your power.”
His aged eyes roved over the forming line, nodding once the first boy, Rupert, one of three sons of farmer Brock who would undergo the Trial that day, had stepped up before him.
The Shaman dipped a smaller bowl that her mother had handed to him in the cauldron and scooped up a portion of the silvery liquid into it. “Drink up”.
Dorea watched the tall boy take the bowl and drink it in one go, obviously trying his best not to make a face.
It’s definitely not gonna be as good as Mum’s berry tea or apple juice.
The line moved quickly, and no one seemed to have second thoughts, so it was her turn faster than anticipated.
It’s just mushrooms and grass, nothing weird at all. Just gulp it down in one go.
She told herself, and psyched up, Dorea gulped the strangely viscous brew with one last look at her mother, who remained impassive save for a slight softening of her eyes.
It was almost bearable, beyond a grassy, muddy aftertaste.
She quickly returned to the crowd of young people and located one of her other friends.
Jonah was somewhat androgynous and could be mistaken for a girl at a distance, but he had a heart of gold, and Dorea had always considered him a dear friend.
He was obviously trying his best not to show how much he was affected by the situation, but it wasn't very successful, considering how he was hugging himself.
“‘Lo there, Jonah, everything good?” she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, causing him to jolt and turn red.
The dusting of colour on his pale cheeks made him look even more like a blushing maiden.
He really is as pretty as a girl, huh.
“Y-yeah, of course”, he replied, nervously tugging at one of the blonde locks of hair that curled around his ear.
Dorea gave him a small smile, trying to convey some reassurance. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it through this. We’re strong.”
He nodded, but she could see the worry in his eyes. She squeezed his shoulder before returning her attention to the front, where Voggo gave a final speech.
“Children, the Mother’s Wrath is almost upon us, and we all need to go into the shelter, but our hearts and souls will be with you during this Trial. Some of you will come out of the other side more powerful than you can imagine. Others…” he trailed off, his voice sombre.
Dorea felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew the risks, but she also knew the rewards. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.
Voggo continued. “But know this: no matter what happens, you will have the support of your fellow villagers. We will all be rooting for you.”
With those words, he gestured towards the hill she had stood on just a while before. “Now, go. Face the Trial and come back victorious.”
The teenagers and young adults moved as one and started trudging their way out of the village and towards the cliff, each one determined to come out the other side.
Their families shouted their last farewells before entering the Shaman’s house and climbing down into the shelter that every village built in case the Mother decided to visit her Wrath upon them.
“I guess this really is it, isn’t it?” asked Beth, capturing her hand again.
“I suppose so. There really isn’t much more to do. The brew should start working in an hour or so, and soon the storm will be upon us,” replied Dorea.
“Maybe we’ll all make it?” Jonah questioned, biting his lip, his big green eyes hopeful.
“I’m sure the Mother will make sure everyone will be fine,” Dorea replied, trying to reassure him, but her gaze soon returned to the approaching storm.
The seas were starting to churn, and the clouds looked even angrier, lightning cracking more frequently and the distant booms of thunder coming closer and closer.
The procession soon arrived at the cliff's edge, and everyone started looking for a place to sit down.
History has shown that it didn’t matter where you sat, what you brought, or even if you wanted it. Even if you didn’t drink the potion made to open your soul to the Mother, you would undergo the Trial, and your chances were not affected by any little detail.
Well, if you don’t drink it, you’ll still have the chance of gaining magic, but Voggo made it very clear that the chances of survival are much lower.
Dorea sat on a flat white rock close to her friends and looked at the horizon, both scared and hopeful about the future.