Nei'hman-de

On Board The Ne'dtesei

The kehrite was quiet and that was not usual. Not right for a Yautja hunting ship where over half those aboard were un-blooded adolescents spoiling for the hunt and over eager for their first kill and the honor of becoming a blooded warrior that came with it. The kehrite should have been loud and full of musk and bloodlust. But not today, and not for several days now.

There had been sparring and practice in the kehrite when we'd first left Prime on our way to this tiny, back-of-nowhere planet. There had been little else to do but train while we traversed space, but once the Ne'dtesei hung in orbit, the engines all but silent and the cloaks blocking us from the primitive, but probing, technology of the planet's inhabitants, the youngbloods had gone strangely silent, anticipation and impatience hanging thick in the ship's recycled air in place of musk.

It was unnerving and frustrating, and I half wondered if the whole dragged out procession of it was designed to grate on Vk'leita and my fraying patience.

It would not surprise me…

But I couldn't hold the consideration for long. At the thought of my opponent my gaze flickered momentarily across the length of the kehrite to where the other young male who shared my current position stood surrounded by perhaps three-quarters of the Ne'dtesei's un-blooded. My mandibles flexed in aggravation and hostility. The fact Vk'leita was favored in this hunt was not lost on me, and I was not pleased with it.

But perhaps it was to be expected. Vk'leita had already killed. He was un-blooded the same as I was, but he had already placed one kill under his name while I had not even made it through what was to be my first hunt or seen prey.

Only the fact we were now both nameless, our honor and reputations, or at least what little of them we'd had as un-blooded, would-be warriors, stripped away equally made this tolerable. Let the other un-blooded fawn over Vk'leita. His kill was nothing to boast over. His kill had brought him here, had spoiled his first hunt and landed him in the Dance of Fallen Gods right along with me.

An un-blooded s'yuit-de didn't kill a blooded warrior in an unfair fight without reparations. Vk'leita might have strength and cunning, but he had dishonored the hunt, lost his way to the Path before he had ever truly set foot on it, and now suffered the consequences for his unwarranted arrogance the same as I did.

Clicking thoughtfully to myself I returned to my meditative pose and let my mind drift.

Learn the gift of all sights or finish in the dance of fallen gods.

The words cut across my mind like a blade in a skilled hand. My mother had repeated the admonition to me countless times as I grew from a young suckling to a hot-headed adolescent. Females were said to be more intelligent than males, whatever the species, but I hadn't particularly paid attention to any female, and my mother's wise words had flown right past me.

I had not learned the gift of all sights. I had not learned at all.

No, I'd had my head in the air of imagination, let myself get carried away with daydreams of honor and glory in the hunt. Thought surely I was destined for great things. I would pass through the ceremonial banding of my dreadlocks, become a student on a well-known ship, under a great Leader, become blooded, and rise quickly to the rank of Leader myself.

I had of course been a s'yuit-de, a fool, right alongside Vk'leita.

My first hunt had ended in disarray and disgrace enough 'Aseigan, my Leader, had taken my name and left me with only one way to possibly keep my life. Not to mention make a second attempt at being a true hunter.

I had not learned.

And so I ended in the Dance of Fallen Gods.

My hands twitched at the designation, my claws curling into my palms before I was able to relax enough to let them go slack again. The Dance of Fallen Gods was only warrior cant for what was actually called the Crucible Hunt on Prime.

The Crucible…

It was considered honorable, in its way. But an honor apart from the usual way an un-blooded found the Path.

There was no middle ground. You rose to greatness or you died. To die was to be forgotten. But to fall from the Path was to have your name erased. Badbloods, those who killed with no respect for the hunt or the Path, were hunted down like prey and their skulls shattered so that they could not even enjoy the dubious glory of being a trophy on another's wall. For badbloods there was no redemption.

For wayward fools and idiots some softhearted Leader saw promise or potential in there was the Crucible. Normally a youngblood who tried his Leader unduly would end up dead. Better dead at the hands of a great warrior than by your own stupidity in the hunt, after all. But on rare occasions Leaders saw some quality worth refining in s'yuit-de who got their names taken away and would grant these youngbloods a chance.

One, unlikely chance.

A rare hunt.

A hunt few succeeded in or survived.

Because even if a Yautja adhered to all the rules binding the Crucible Hunt and emerged victorious if the Leader administering the hunt did not find that Yautja worthy, then that Yautja died, despite all his efforts.

Sitting in the kehrite now I could not remember a Crucible Hunt with a victorious warrior occurring in my lifetime. Given I had not lived nearly as long as the three blooded hunters on the Ne'dtesei, but I had still heard of the Crucible Hunts that had been staged in the time since my father had sired me, and there were no warriors who had been granted a second chance through them.

A small part of me suspected the Crucible was little more than a way to keep adolescents in line. A harsh game thrown into the advent of adulthood as a way to show youngbloods what happened if they didn't learn properly. Yautja without names were only one step away from badbloods, after all. Just barely on redeemable ground. It would not surprise me to know I was simply going to be made an example of for the other youngbloods who would follow me.

In truth I had little doubt both Vk'leita and I were going to die on this misfortunate hunt. But even so, already thei-de, dead, or not, I was going to do everything I could to ensure it was I who was spoken of with fond remembrance after this hunt was done. I who was said to have presented himself with honor and accomplishment. I who had gone to the Dark Warrior laughing.

The fact Vk'leita was favored now would mean nothing at the end of the Dance of Fallen Gods. He would be dead and forgotten and nameless, while I at least was said to have fought bravely.

Believing this might have been easier if not for the quiet and the tension all over the ship, and if not for the clear favoritism with which the other youngbloods treated my rival.

Despite my attempt to be still and maintain the meditation I favored over Vk'leita's pacing and strutting, a hiss of annoyance and aggression escaped me and my hands again curled to fists, nails digging into my tough hide.

Vk'leita had no right to be favored here.

The Ne'dtesei was the vessel I had been assigned to when I first left Prime, expecting nothing but my first hunt and to be blooded. 'Aseigan in turn was not only the Leader who had stripped me of my name, but also the Leader who had deemed me worthy of a Crucible Hunt. The other youngbloods in the kehrite were those I had trained with. And I should have garnered at least a little more respect for having been known by my once fellow un-blooded.

Vk'leita had not been one of us. Vk'leita was from another ship, and his Leader had been happy to be rid of him, willingly giving him over to 'Aseigan because he had wanted nothing further to do with the fool youngblood.

So many things threatened to raise my ire and pull me from full mediation. I wanted to break my stance and go and break Vk'leita's skull myself.

But something held me back.

Learn the gift of all sights or finish in the dance of fallen gods…

I had already fallen far. If I had ever been looked at with interest by the gods that attention was now removed. I had nothing left, not even my name. Nothing left but the Crucible.

Nothing but to learn.

Learn.

Learn to see.

And what I saw was Vk'leita was not worth the effort of spoiling my final chance. I would have my time to fight him on the planet below us.

I could wait.

I had been a fool. Allowed myself to act a s'yuit-de, but no more.

I would rise out of the Dance of Fallen Gods. Or… at the very least I would have it said of me I had died deserving a name.