Tales of the Twolegs
Prophecy of Warriors
2011, October 21, South Clan, Mitl's point of view…
Hi. There hasn't been alot of training lately, so I'm full of my own thoughts. So apparently the Elders say we're in a year that Strange Twolegs, who are humans that live elsewhere on Earth and do strange things, like "driving" in objects called "cars", call 2011. Too weird. Giving years number names? No wonder Strange Twolegs are called Strange Twolegs. Speaking of Names, I can understand why we are called "Twolegs" of the Dirts, but I do wish we would be called something much more sophisticated. And very idiosyncratic. Well, oh I'm sorry (sarcastic, duh), but how can I help but show-off when the other Mitls are mostly idiots? Yes, thank you, I've already been told off one too many times for being such a smart-aleck.
Like, hello? There shouldn't be a law against your personality. Yes, and anyway, I'm… Well, I'm Mitl, ugh, like all other 6-10 year olds, but I'm going to be Named very soon. It's those traditional stages of training we all go through. I'd like a Name like elegant Moonshade, my awesome mum, who is one of the senior warriors, or Ivyclaw, my dad, who they say is among the most feared people in the North Clan. Aquamarine, my cousin, has just been Named a Thriver, making her a high-ranking warrior, and she has been seriously annoying about it. Like today.
My dark hair swished as I hopped into the main cave, a good shelter from the violent mountain winds.
"Ugh, don't you have any fashion sense! Must be with, or without, a Name… oh hi, MITL. I saw your friends MITL and MITL and MITL just now-" Aquamarine drawled.
"Are you trying to offend me? Because the only thing that is offending me is YOUR FACE," I shot back.
"Oooh, feel the burn," my bestie, ugh, Mitl, sniped. Aquamarine opened and closed her mouth a few times, then settled for glaring at me. Anyways, it was kind of true that I was never really hurt by her taunts, because me and my bestie know who we really are. And anyways, for some stupid reason, we cannot drawl on about fashion because we're supposed to be "humble".
And I did not think that meant "be ugly", but the only Queda, which is our traditional outfit, I own was little more than a ragged, faded, blue I-don't-know-what. Not exactly that we were poor. But because of the ridiculous rules and code our ancestors, the Great "Spirits" made for us.
I don't doubt that Spirits are real, because, like I assume every other Mitl can do, I saw faint stars in the mists. But I don't going around waving it in everybody's faces because, if most Mitls can do it, I won't sound very impressive. Anyway, me and Mitl, my friend, are going to be Named tonight at the Bright Moon, which is really cool, because, well, it's the Bright Moon and the Great Leaders are all meeting at Moonhigh. I like to call it Midnight; explains what it is way better than the word "Moonhigh" does. -
The mist gathered at Midnight like it usually does at the South Dirts. Yeah, even though I am really proud of South Dirts, I can't help but think how the North Twolegs' forest is OK, but nothing beats a tall snowy mountain. Not that I care for the snooty North people. Anyways, as I climb the Tall of Peaks, I pass through Crag where Eagles nest and be extra silent; usually only the normal Eagles stay there, but Death Eagles do exist, of course. Not that I have any fear; after all, I'm going to be a warrior. And I trust that I stalk well; I've been stalking up on others ever since I was a Kitl.
According to the Olders, they also stalk upon people, skillfully, and then rip them apart just because. They were sent here by Skyspirits because they (meaning the Skyspirits) don't like the brutality of the Death Eagles. So they sent them to us. Great. Note to self, thank them for that at the next Sharing. And apparently every single thing has to do with the Spirits. Anyway, I easily stalk past the Crag (which is short for the silly Name).
I stop and sniff with my sharp nose. It was said in stories that our ancestors gave us sharper senses than most humans because of our belief in the Spirits. There was a dangerous scent, but no iron for their iron claws. Overlapping it was the sweet scent of eggs. I grin to myself. Eggs. Well, when BloodJags fall would be a good mating season for those scum. Not that the Olders told us, but I assumed, and I'm pretty good at assuming the true thing, if I don't say so myself. I mean, BloodJags. Oh my gosh. Anyway, taking them away would mean less filthy Death Eagles drooling over us. And they make good snacks. But of course, even if Death Eagles don't usually guard their kin, better be careful.
Note to self, report to the Great Leader that there is a Death Eagle here. Yes, I know what you're thinking. Well, they're so bloodthirsty that as soon as the female lays the eggs, they fight. For dinner (I know, right). I stopped in my tracks and scented the air again. Eggs about to hatch, some twig nest, two males and one female egg. And… disgusting, the Death Eagle must have pooped. Sniffing again, I confirm that it's their dad.
I sneak in and take them into my pouch at my hip. One male, another male, then as I reach for the female-
Shreeeeeiiikkk! Claws scraping on… stone, not egg. I whip around and flee. I can hear the Death Eagle pursuing me, gaining on me… What good is this? I though to myself. I can't bring it into the camp! And to me, only cowards flee from a battle.
I turn around and face the Death Eagle. Think like your prey, I told myself, even though Death Eagles aren't exactly prey. I was slightly taller than other 10 year olds, but apart from that, I knew that this Death Eagle was superior in strength. I wasn't bulky. I didn't have bulging muscles. I knew better than to rely on my brute force, which is totally not my forte. Still, I can best full-grown warriors. The one advantage that I had; I was a cunning fighter. Sly and clever.
I watched the eagles mutt's eyes and mentally measured our distance in about half a second. What is he going to do? What is he going to do? I caught the thing's gaze and knew he was going to aim straight for my head. I didn't have time to study his posture, but when an enemy like this aim for your head, they usually lunge. They're not exactly smart. I mean, it's an offensive move, sure, but too expected. So when he leaps, I'm ready. I jump to my right and claws out, rake him up with one of my famous deadly unblinking glares.
He screeches and instantly I know that the next bloody reflex move for him would be to turn around and claw me. He turns around and does just that. I jump onto a high ledge with skill that only South Twolegs can match. And of course he flies up and whacks me with his armed wings. I dodge a fatal wound, but still get a little scratched up. I wince, but I never scream. I mean, who would? But still, I hate pain. Oooohhh, my left arm.
I decide to get back. Vengeance! (I just love that word!) Something original. If this was someone I've battle-trained with alot, I would by now head where I point my eyes because the person would think I wouldn't. But this is just a stupid mutt. I take a few swift steps to his right, which is normally a bad idea because it's head is there along with that bloody gaping beak and poisonous saliva. The mutt, of course, heads toward me. And I have to be really agile for this to work. Fortunately, I'm me. I crouch lower and lower and give him just enough time to process this, therefore making his head lower. I come within the risk of meeting it's awful beak-sword thingy. Then I jump back. Because there are no ledges within reach, I landed with practiced grace with my claws digging into the unforgiving cold mountain.
With my uninjured arm ready to claw, of course. Before two seconds are over, I carefully land on his wound. He had wrongly assumed that I was crouching lower still. I mean, he's about two times bigger than me. I land one the gash and dig deeper until I think he's learned not to come back, for now. Death Eagles are death-crazy, but I'm not a murderer, so I let go. For now. It squeals and flies away, awkwardly. That's when I realize he only has half of his left wing. -
"Uugh. It still hurts. Be gentle, will you? Please give me some poppy seed," I said to our Healer, Star. It's nice to have someone fuss over you, you know.
"You were very naughty to steal the eagle eggs by yourself, you know," she scolded gently, but I could hear the note of admiration in that.
"You were amazing!" That sounded like Spotted, Star's apprentice. "She was amazing, right, totally? I mean, gosh, that was so brave!" Spotted is also ten, but sometimes it's a little hard to remember. And anyway, we all call him Spot. He glanced up at me with those worshipful eyes.
"All right, that's good. Make sure to put on the poultice before bed," Star said. I thanked her and raced toward the training cave. Mitl, or we'll just call her "Bestie", was waiting for me. Everyone was chatting excitedly. It was all "Did you really take the eggs?" and "Woah, that was so cool!" and "You shouldn't have done that."
"All right, please be quiet now," my To-Be, Helium's To-Be, said. She looked at me. "We'll start with hunting. I was planning to teach you some combat, but I guess you already did that!" I grinned at her.
To-Be is more laid back about those stuff. Maybe it has something to do with her climbing the Cloudtoucher, one of the Deadly Peaks, when she was a Kitl. And getting a scolding after almost breaking her right-arm. Brrrr. At least she's left-handed.
"Come on!" My To-Be zoomed out of the cave. I took the ledges and easily overtook her. "Whoo, you're good at this," she praised. Though, to be honest, I was used to it. I've been skimming ledges before I was Kitl.
We walked for a while, when suddenly I scented a thlew. Immediately, I dropped into the hunter's crouch and silently stalked forward, following the scent trail onto another mountain. I felt the snow ripple under my feet and pinpointed the thlew's location. Suddenly, I heard wingbeats, but not as big as a Death Eagle. I hid behind a ledge, and waited. This was a strategy I've used before.
As soon as the falcon gripped the thlew, I swiftly lunged at it, grabbing where it's shoulders would probably be. I tried holding the back feathers before, and ending up just pulling it's feathers off. It gave a screech. Great, I though. Scared off all the prey. I dug my claws in until it died. Then I brought back both the falcon and the thlew.
"Not bad," my To-Be said proudly. "I must be such a good teacher." I gave her a friendly shove. We headed toward the fresh-kill cave and dropped our catch, with her having two mice and a fish.
We arrived just in time for dinner. The Wiseteller recited the boring list of ranks. When he reached Mitl, me and the other Mitls scrambled forward toward the fresh-kill pile. I had scanned it before-hand and had my eyes on a big, juicy rabbit. Unfortunately, so did some other male Mitl. We both reached it and grappled over the rabbit. Then I remembered all men's weak spot.
I kicked him hard and took the rabbit. While we were grappling, most other Mitls already took their fill. He grabbed the small fish To-Be caught, and went back, sulking. I mimed savouring the rabbit like it was Spirit food and saw him glaring back. It's called satisfaction. -
Four years later, at Midnight, the mist came down from the skies and said to me in a mystic voice, "You are the Chosen One."
"What?" I asked it. Since I see the the stars looking at me everyday, I didn't think it was very strange, only exciting. "Am I going on some sort of mission?"
It winked at me. I don't exactly know how. I just know that it winked. "You are the Chosen One," it repeated. "I am Mist, your great-great-great grandmother and guardian. You and three others will save Ellenora, young one."
"And the three others… come from West, East, and North," I guessed. It- no, she, just danced with the clouds. I stared back with the exciting prospect of adventure.
"Mitl! Soon to be not-Mitl!"
"Alright, I'm coming. Keep your Queda on!"
Helium's To-Be, now Juniper, sighed. "Usually, we have to try to convince the Mitls to go slower!" she joked. She is almost as snappy and sassy as me. Almost. Which I have to say, makes us a great pair.
"And I'm going to be 16 tonight!" How could I forget? She shares the same birthday as me. 'Bestie' too. What a coincidence.
I changed into my new Queda, which was superb, a lovely twilight-lavender, as soft and light as petals and gossamer, and as strong as the highest mountain rock. The others all say it was made for my elegant violet-blue eyes. I hardly ever gush my thanks, but for some reason, I do, this time.
"It would make a beautiful entrance," said the Elder that made my dress, blushing at the praise. Beautiful entrance? Well, that would be nice, I suppose, but I was going for dramatic, unique! Just imagine!
We head to the revered Wiseteller's cave. The Wiseteller is one of the most honored people in the realm of Ellenora! His cave is so adorned and filled with warm, rich scents. Alright, I can be a fickle bit ambitious at times, but then… I am the special Chosen One. I wondered if I could tell others. Probably not yet. And I guess they don't exactly see stars in the mist. That would have been… Mist's eyes, watching over me.
I wonder about the prophecy that had been delivered a Bright Moon back, but our Wiseteller has so many prophecies, my Clanmates didn't really take notice. It was something about how wind would blow out darkness, some other stuff I can't remember, and somehow the secret to peace lies on the soft feather. So weird. But I had noticed that his eyes were like starry Mist's eyes then. Goldenblaze, my mentor, glanced proudly at me.
"Mitl, daughter of Oaklove and Tallbracken, please come. You shall become a warrior now," Ashyfoot, our Wiseteller said. Our Leader acknowledged her with a nod. I saw Mitl redden.
"Do you promise to have honor and protect the South Clan?"
"I do."
"Then from now on, you shall be known as Dawnheart."
I gasped. What a nice name! She must have had a really good Viewing assessment. Or maybe it's because Oathmercy was Ashyfoot's niece. I smiled at Dawnheart and waited excitedly.
"Mitl, daughter of Moonshade and Ivyclaw, please come forward. You shall be a warrior now." And a nod from Leader.
"Do you promise to have honor and protect South Clan?"
"Of course."
"The from now on, you shall be Nightwind."
Oh! Nightwind! How awesome is that! You deserved it, came a little voice, laced with age, in my head. Mist! I thought while our Clanmates chanted our names enthusiastically. Goldenblaze clapped and Dawnheart congratulated me.
Suddenly, a cold wind blew in from the dark night. Everyone except me shivered. The Wiseteller had a new look in his eyes… one that looked like… Mist's stars in the mist.
"Wind of night has come, and we shall be saved from a terrible creature," Ashyfoot blurted out with a look of awe on his face.
The silence vanished and everybody began chatting. How cool is that? Not only am I a full-fledged South Clan warrior, but I rule a prophecy!
The stars glittered back at me. The Prophecy of Warriors will save the world from a terrible fate, they seemed to say. The Prophecy of Warriors. -