The True Meaning of A Warrior

Chapter One: The Secrets of the Past (ZARA)

"Why do we have to learn about these again?" I yawned, propping up my face with my palm. "We don't even live in the four tribes. This is useless."

"Language," sighed her mother, who erased the board with her hand. "Come on, Zara, dear," she smiled kindly. "You never know. Besides, our ancestors were once part of the four tribes. We have to learn about them."

"I'd rather go arching," I countered, but a smile was on my face-when mother was being gentle and honey-kind, it was impossible to be grouchy back. Somewhere above me, I opened up a space for my thoughts to rise, picturing the symbols for each of the four season, "Condi" tribes.

"Right after this you can, if you focus," mother sighed.

I straightened-what a treat! "Yes," I said brightly, with a flourish. "Continue, please." An opportunity to practice my skill with the bow and arrow was too important to let down.

I quickly reviewed all the facts about the tribes I knew in my head, my hand brushing the magical quiver of arrows slung over my shoulder.

Long ago, my family, and my best friend, Eve (Evelyn)'s family moved away from the four tribes of our land and lived as castaways in the dark, dangerous forest that bordered the four tribes. The only times we returned to the tribes was to hide our identities and go to a random tribe to find a partner, and bring them back into the forests for them to live with our families and raise new generations of young.

No one knew why...

But let me assure you, I am not being sentimental or caught in some woooooow amazing mystery coming up trance here. Actually, I'm thinking right now, So what, can I just go arching?

As far as I was concerned, our families are the only ones with magic in all the lands. We each have a magical weapon that was really, like, awesome. I homed a bow and a quiver of arrows with water-ice power, but I'm still practicing.

"Are you listening to me?" mother's words broke through my trance of thoughts.

"Umm..." I blustered guiltily.

"What's the symbol for the Autumn Tribe?" she sighed, erasing a drawing off the board before I could spot it. Luckily, Eve had taught me this one before.

"A maple leaf engraved with a squirrel," I answered confidently, a smile pursing my lips. "How cute."

Mother sighed, but smiled. "Okay. You're dismissed. You and Evelyn can go off into weapon practice or whatever knicknacks your friends play with-but you have to stay within fifty meters of our caves, got it? No touching any unidentified, possibly poisonous plants, and if you hear or sense or smell or taste or see a beast, you must pick your legs off the ground and put your weapon away and-"

"Run back home," I finished boredly.

"For your lives!" mother finished, dramatically.

I nodded, and then ran outside and jogged towards the archery section, where a set of targets, some far and some big, some close and some miniscule awaited me. The sky was quite cloudy today, with no sight of the sun beneath the hooded angels. There, I docked my bow into my arrow and pulled the string, first targeting my favorite target: an ice-blue target with different tones of blue for each ring of the target, and not too far off, or too close to me.

Shing!

The arrow soared, far and true, and landed just about a centimeter left from the bullseye. I sighed and lowered my arrow: I'd never gotten a bullseye on my very first shot, I'd only got it after hours of warm-up and practice, but still, I had been hoping...

I stood in the leafy abyss, shooting the different targets over and over again, practicing. I'd practiced without stopping for about fifteen minutes, before I started activating its ice powers into the arrow as I practiced-ice spikes, ice balls, frozen water zipping out the tip of the arrow so fast it stung the skin. Today was just a private practice, by myself-my dad was out hunting, so he wasn't here to train me.

The Chosen Ones, the four tribes, the past, why did our ancestors move us into this horrible, murky forest... luckily, the targeting practice took its wonderful toll on me, and my blotted mind began to clear.

A bit bored after half an hour of practice, I collected my arrows, stuffed them back into my quiver, took my bow in my hands, and headed towards the Silverwell family's house. They were one of the two exile families, the Starcatcher family and the Silverwell family. We were great friends with them-me, especially with their youngest daughter, Evelyn (Eve) Silverwell.

I knocked three times on the wooden door built in that led into the cave.

"Come in!"
I kicked open the door (there was no doorknob) and sidled in, taking off my quiver and bow and placing it on a stone counter nearby. The Silverwell family cave was a breathtaking sight: hanging from the ceiling casting their warm glow on the smooth, silver-stone walls with little dents in multiple gigantic stones that carried many accessories.

"Is Eve home?" I called out to the rustles in the kitchen-probably Eve's mother.

"She's at the sword training arena, practicing with her sister," she called back.

"Okay," I replied awkwardly, my head began to swarm with musing thoughts again. I paused, decisively, before finally heading over to the kitchen. As I'd expected, Mrs. Silverwell was there, putting together a salad that Eve and I had collected the plants for the previous day at dusk-we had learned that less of those golden beetles that hungrily devoured plants, crawled on the cabbages at twilight than the early morning.

"Mrs. Silverwell?" I queried. "Um, hi."

"Hello, dear. What brings you here? Eve is out at the training arena," she answered warmly, pausing in her mixing of herbs and vegetables to gaze down at me kindly.

Mrs. Silverwell was the kind of lady that always wore loopy earrings and heels-but don't let that fool you. A few years off, she drove away a BlackMonster by herself-with her bare hands and quite big earrings on.

"I know," I said, wringing my hands together. "But...mother won't tell me why...why did our ancestors move us to such a dark, dangerous forest? Why aren't we like everybody else, in the tribes?" I blinked. "I have blue eyes, right? So I'm part of the Winter Tribe-if we were there."

A pause. Then: "Oh, Zara." Mrs. Silverwell pulled up a wooden stool and took a seat, motioning for me to sit down on the warm, caramel-colored rug with a bright fringe under my feet. I chose to stand. "You have no idea how lucky you are." She sighed, and wrapped her arms around herself, as if hugging herself tight. "How lucky..." her voice quivered and trailed off. She looked away from me, avoiding eye contact.

"Lucky? Mrs. Silverwell, my baby brother, before he even turned one, a SilverMonster took him! A NightMonster almost killed me if I hadn't had my arrows nearby and scared him off with my ice droplets when I was six. I mean, I don't want to kill any monsters, but... aren't the tribes safer?"

A shadow passed across Eve's mother's eyes. "I suppose," she said faintly. "Maybe it's safer, as in, more people to protect and less monsters. But the meaning of a monster, when it converges with the meaning of a warrior..." She sighed, twisting her hands together to and fro. "I shouldn't tell you this. Wait till you grow up... I was told when I was five, and couldn't sleep for days, before having nightmares for five whole months. Wait till you're...older. And ask your mother. I don't want to get in trouble with your family. But until then...beware the black diamond."

"The black diamond? What's that? Is it real, or a legend? Where did it come from? How old is it-I want to know!" I protested. "I'm fifteen, not five!"

"Patience," she soothed, standing up and continuing to mix the herbs and plants for her salad once more.

"Patience."