Chapter One: Beginning of the End

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The sound of stone beating metal rang through the air of the Black Smith shop as Dunbray, a stout yet strong dwarf pounded a long, thin sheet of metal into the likeness of a sword.

       “So what’s eaten’ at ya, girls?” The black smith glanced over his shoulder and continued hammering away at the pancake-thin sheet.

       “Well,” I shuffled anxiously and continued, “do you know about the Ritus?”

At this, the sooty dwarf set down the hammer and turned to face my sister Reed and I and with a gruff pass of his hand he smeared the grime across his face. “I have heard of the thing, but not in a long while. Will you refresh a Smithy’s mind?”

I nodded and held out my pale hand, pointing to the middle line. The Lifeline. “When Leporem turn 15 in our years, 50ish in Human years, we have to go to a so called ‘Ritus’, which is really only a passing on of rights, where we choose a Majik that-“

The Smithy, Dunbray, cuts me off with a confused look, “Choose a Majik?”

I nod, “Yea, every Leporem has basic control of all four elemental Majiks, you know, Earth, Air, Fire and Water.” Ticking fingers as I count off the majiks.

“Ok, continue.”

       “Right, well, all of the Leporem in this Kingdom gather on the first day of every year at the edge of the Forest and get in a circle of sorts. There are four pieces to the circle, each piece not quite touching the two on the sides because each group represents users of a particular element.” I stop pacing and cast a look at Dunbray whose face is slightly contorted as he processes the information Reed and I am throwing at him.

“Every Leporem that has not yet come of age fills in the gaps in the circle,” Reed, my 5’8’’ sister with pure blue eyes and very dark brown hair continues for me. “and takes turns going to the center. When you go to the middle, the elements are sitting on the ground in order of Fire, Air, Water and then Earth around you. You’re supposed to stand still while the of-age witches do an Ancient Spell  in the Old Language.”

Reed pauses and I pick it back up, “Exactly. And then, as the chant is finished, you’re supposed to feel pain in your hand. By enduring the pain and saying something back to the Elders in the Old Language, you earn a tattoo called a Stigma. It is two triangles, one pointing up and one pointing down layed on top of each other. Then, your particular element is added in whatever colors go with it.     [A.N. LOOK AT THE PICTURE ON THE SIDE FOR AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT A STIGMA LOOKS LIKE!]    

“Yea,” Reed says, “It’s greenish brown for Earth, Blueish white for air, yellowish red for fire and a blueish green for water. Pretty self explanatory. And then, after you get your Element, you stand with the Leporem of the same Element as a full blooded Leporem.”

Reed and I look despairingly at Dunbray, wishing for advice, but he looked slightly confused and said, “And so what’s the problem? You two seem to know exactly what to do.”

“Well... Yes, but... What if we don’t get the one we want?” I ask, waving my arms about.

“And what if we get stuck in different Caravans?!” Reed wailed, holding so tightly to my arm that I feared the blood supply was being cut off.

“Oh, it’s the Caravan you’re worried about? Well that’s easy, girls. The Caravans are just a group of Leporem and several other creatures going on an adventure to find themselves. You just go or don’t.” The gritty dwarf saw the still worried looks on our faces and quickly added, “But, I happen to know that there is only going to be one Caravan with Laborem in it from our Kingdom this year.”

Twin grins spread across our faces as the news fell upon our ears, “So.. you mean that we’re going to be in the same Caravan? Go on the same adventure?"

"Yes, but only if you're full Leborem," Dunbray responded, turning back to the now cool and hard metal.

"What do you mean? Of course we'll be full Leborem," Reed answered, her tone colored with the inflection of a question.

"Well, today happens to be the first of the year, and if you dally here talkin' to me any longer, girls, you're gonna be late." Dunbray chuckled as Reed and I crashed into eachother in a rush to get out of the smoke filled room.

The breeze carried a chorus of 'goodbye' and 'Thank you, Dun!!' to the young smith's ears, causing a smale smile to apear on his beared face, but it wasn't just any smile. Dunbray's cheeky smirk was that of one who knows information but chose to whithold it from others. He would keep it a surprise until he and the young ladies met again.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jun 12, 2013 ⏰

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