The chamber had been brought to life with the glow of candles, its light bouncing off of the stone enclosure. Though it had grown even further chaotic as the Clan chatted with one another before the start of the years final ceremony.
"Clan of Scáth, tonight we shall welcome our final marked sisters and brothers." The Professor of the Elders voice bellowed from the edge of the chambers, the Clan tumbling into silence as all turned to the tone of the accented voice. "assisting them all into their final stage to ascending adulthood. The search of their own fates."
Victoria stood at the farthest end of the corridor, just outside the main chambers, the rest of her peers among her. The Clans' raucous seeping into all fibers of her being, disturbing her own attempt at distraction. Though she had grown used to these disturbances, tonights ceremony was no different than her classes.
"Tonight we shall begin with our Wise. Those whom have proved to possess skills of both research, and remembrance." As the Professors words came to an end a small crowd to the left of the chambers broke into a fit of laughter, and hollers as the marked entered the disarray. Robes and trousers made of fine indigo silks adorned their bodies, their set of silver brands burned into their flesh gleaming against the light of candles and torches.
The several of them halted to a stand still as the Professor of the Wise began calling their names. Each member offered the families leather bound journals. Hundreds of loose leaf pages pouring from its edges, littered with the lettering and information from those before them.
Her twin stood among the ranks of the Wise, his name the final to be welcomed, his journal the one with the fewest pages. Though even Tori knew he would fill the leafs with ease in time, as Victor had been the smartest of the family since birth. It made perfect sense that he had become a member of the Wise.
"Behind our Wise, let us welcome our Healers. Those whom have proven to possess the abilities to forge modern medicines and perform quick reasoning." The third Professor had spoken as the Wise moved to their own. The Healers taking the place of those before them, moving to stand at the front of the Clan, the fine silver thread of their velvet burning against their wine tattoos.
At the call their name, each Healer was handed their families satchel. Said to be bound by the skin of the first beasts taken, blessed by the Ancestors themselves. It was the one thing a healer a could count on it to hold all the medicine and tools needed for tasks in which one was to face.
Tori would be paired with a member from each set. As all others were made to protect those like herself.
"Finally, let us welcome our Slayers. Those whom have proven to posses the skills of strength, and strategic thoughts." Her Professor spoke louder than those before him, the Clan began chanting unlike the hollers that were heard before, even the laughter holding a sort of hysteria.
Her Professor chuckled before he began the list of surnames. Each one of her comrades stepping forward to receive their weapon. The weapon forged into existence by the wielder, made to be used for no one else but themselves. She would receive hers last.
She would be the last to be welcomed.
"Victoria Rose Roth-Wood." She stepped toward her professor, a gasp arising from the crowd alongside the noise of a hundred whispers.
A female Slayer had not been of existence since the last generation, and most all knew that a female was one of the first to perish in battle. A female was weak, and unfit for such a title.
She forced a smile, her hands reaching to grip her weapon. The slate of metal bitter beneath her touch, and the sharp turn of a sterling blade far from her skin as she tore the battle axe from her professor, the trembling that had once consumed her vanishing as she clutched the ore.
Her breath hitched, begging to escape her lungs.
Tori had never understood how she had become what she had. She had been the antisocial sibling, hiding from those around her as she was far too timid to speak, in fear of rejection. It had felt wrong to be declared such a title, unfair to the rest of her peers. Though as she held her axe she felt it awaken.
Her breath departed from her with ease, and she was the first to lead the chanting of the Clan.
YOU ARE READING
An Ancestors Mark (#Wattys2016)
خيال (فانتازيا)The Ancestors Mark, Book one in the Ancestors Series. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Our lives had been so simple, the Clan safe from all harms. Yet our numbers seem to dwindle, as their ranks be...
