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Plotbear
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#1
Old 01-26-2011, 06:21 AM

[This is a story I began a while back and hope to finish. Critique welcome! The names for the bear tribes belong to White Wolf Inc, everything else belongs to me.]

Deep within one of the last remaining glens of what used to be Yellowstone Park, six people sat huddled around a smokeless fire. Not a word was spoken. The last slip of a crimson sun stole away behind the mountain, and one by one the stars flared to life across a royal purple sky.

As soon as the constellations known as the Bears appeared, the fire was extinguished. One of the six, a man as giant as a redwood with a face as cragged as a mountain, cleared his throat and got to his feet.

"The word has finally come; with the autumn will come our last stand. The humans have spit upon any further attempts at peace. Therefore, we will do what we must to defend those who ask for our help." He looked up as the light of a full moon spilled out bright from beneath a cloud.

“It is the decision of the Council,” he continued, “to make any and all efforts to ensure that our goals will be met, whether or not we survive. The quests to find our long buried treasures have all met with success, but it still may not be enough.” He turned to face the five silvery shadows that hung on his every word.

“It is with this in mind that the Mountain Guardians give their approval for this ritual.”

There was the softest sigh of relief, but the tension did not break. An elderly woman with graceful fall of white hair and a scar splitting her face in a diagonal stood before the smoking ashes. “We begin. Step forward, Stormdancer.”

A girl just barely past the cusp of womanhood stepped out of the shadows and slowly approached the fire pit. She was tall and strong, and yet there was a sturdy grace and gentleness to her frame.

Wine-red hair curled wildly down her back like falling autumn leaves, and in the moonlight her pine green eyes were sharp and clear. They showed their fear the closer she came to the pile of smoldering ash. The old woman smiled at her, but there was no pity or sympathy there, only grim determination.

“You know what this will entail. From this point on there is no turning back. Do you understand this?” The girl’s eyes widened, but she nodded. The woman beckoned her forward. “Then prepare yourself. And remember: you will be the last hope, for us, for them, and for the humans.”

The girl did not respond. She took off the simple cotton dress she wore and stepped naked into the cinders, revealing the oak-brown skin beneath. She flinched slightly at the uncomfortable warmth, but kept her silence. The woman closed her eyes and held her arms up to the sky. The moon seemed to glow brighter for just a moment before it disappeared behind a swath of cloud.

“We meet, bright seed, in the heart of summer. I impart upon you the gifts of the River Guardians. Cleanse all of impurities; wash away that which would harm.” With that she placed her hands upon the girls shoulders and opened her eyes. Beneath her hands a stream of water trickled down the girls body, leaving strange tattoos in their wake. The girl released a painful gasp and started shaking a little.

The old woman released her from her grip and took a step back. The next to approach was the rugged man from before, except he somehow seemed larger and slightly hairier. He placed a hand on the girl’s back; the other held a strange stone dagger that he pressed against her chest.

“We meet, bright seed, in the heart of autumn,” he grumbled with a voice like thunder. “I impart upon you the gifts of the Mountain Guardians. Stand tall when all else crumbles to dust; let no challenge see you undone.”

Those words were followed by a deep slash from the dagger. The girl cried out once more, but the wound healed instantly, leaving a scar that twisted into the shape of the full moon.

Next came a robust middle-aged man with pale yellow skin and dark eyes. “We meet, bright seed, in the heart of winter. I impart upon you the gifts of the Ice Stalkers.”

He waved his hands over her head. “Bring beauty and joy to those around you; protect that which is pure with all your heart.” Crystals of ice began to fall from the girl’s hair, and her tears turned to snow as they left her eyes.

“We meet, bright seed, in the heart of spring,” said a woman with short blonde hair and laugh lines at the corners of her eyes.

“I impart upon you the gifts of the Forest Walkers. Whisper the stories to those who would forget; heal the bodies, minds, and souls of those in need.” She bent and touched the cinders, and slender green vines began to grow beneath the girl’s feet and wrap tightly around her legs.

At last, the fifth shadow stepped forward into the circle of illumination. It was a beast of enormous size, a hybrid of what seemed to be bear and man. It was very old, for there was gray in the fur around its muzzle. It began to speak in a language of grunts, growls, rumbles, and purrs, but the assembled understood everything that was said.

*We come to you, bright seed, in the darkest of times. River Keeper, Ice Stalker, Mountain Guardian, and Forest Walker; all stand under the name of Gurahl and all have blessed you with the gifts of the tribe. Now, dearest cub, I will impart one last gift to you, should all other gifts come to failure.*

It brought one of its razor sharp claws to the girl’s trembling lip. She opened her mouth obediently and stuck out her tongue. The tip of the claw pressed down, bringing a large drop of blood up with it. She quickly brought the tongue back into her mouth, feeling the wound slowly begin to heal.

*I impart to you the most dangerous of all our gifts. A swift word from your mouth shall cause the river to overflow, the mountain to crumble, the blizzard to howl, and the forest to burn. You shall become as the Death Bear, and bring about great destruction in order to begin the cycle anew.*

At those words, the tattoos began to writhe, the scar tore open and bled, the ice covered her eyes and completely froze her hair, and the vines grew thorns that pierced her feet and legs. Her cry of agony rang through the night, causing the birds to fly away en masse in panic. The beast raised its arms high, then brought them sharply down. The cinders were suddenly alight with a flame that completely engulfed the girl inside. Her screams stopped abruptly.

The wizened old woman stepped forward once again, speaking directly into the flames. “When the fire has sealed our pact, bright seed, you will slumber in peace until the earth has rotated around the sun seven times. May you then carry out what we were unable to do, and bring peace to this world.”

From the depths of the fire she stepped forward, one hesitant foot after another. All signs of magic were gone, and the fire left no burns upon her body. As soon as she stepped out of the flames she fell to the earth, sleeping as peacefully as a newborn babe.

The beast picked her up in its arms and carried her away; the other four quickly went their separate ways. None of them noticed the raven that had been sitting in a tree during the entire ritual. Therefore, when he took wing into the night sky, they all believed that their most precious treasure still remained a secret.

fairywaif
Flitting free Girl
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#2
Old 01-28-2011, 10:52 PM

Very neat story. I love the idea. I know you want critiques, but I think that was basically flawless. You're a really good writer.

 


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