The WereClan Tryouts

Morning came with the whoops and hollers of the village elders. My eyes flew open, catching the amused gaze of Bran lying across from me. He winked and stretched before rolling from his mat on the floor. I fought back a giggle. The elders had painted their faces with blue paint, made from the rare flowers that grew in the great Claw Mountains. The mountains that the Iomproidh

bear

Clan called their home. The mountains that called to Bran.

I glanced at my best friend as I threw a plaid over my shoulders and stepped out into the cold. My breath came out in white, wispy puffs.

"Are ya still plannin' on joining the Iompróidh or have I talked ya into trying out for the Seabhac

hawk

Clan with me?"

Bran's horse-like snort reminded me of my father. "Aye, I'll win a spot with the mountain folk, that's for sure and certain." Bran lifted his chin. His steely gaze showed a determination that pulled a sigh from my very soul. Bran and I had grown up as best friends and I fostered the hope that we would be together forever. I stomped the cold from my feet, realizing that my dream was that of a foolish little girl. There was no doubt in my mind that Bran would pass the test the Iompróidh would set forth. He would soon be wearing the mountain men's traditional kilts and swinging a broadsword while I—I would be soaring the skies.

"We'll still see each other," Bran said. A shock of brown hair shaded his eyes as he cocked his head and peered into my face. "With our new abilities, we'll be able to travel any distance and hang out whenever we want. Nothing will change." I forced a smile to my lips, silently berating myself for allowing Bran to see the sorrow in my heart.

"Of course we will," I agreed, putting on a brave front. But inside, I knew differently. The clans came together but once a year. Our new abilities might give us the strength and stamina to trek over large expanses of land but our apprenticeships and responsibilities would keep us too busy to make the effort. After today we would lose touch, just as my father, mother, and I lost touch with my eldest sister, Taryn, when she joined the Siorcs

shark

. Just as Bran had lost contact with his sister when she was accepted by the Mac Tires

wolves

.

We joined the growing group of teens from our village, eager to begin the tests and trials that would determine our place in the world. The elders ushered us to the center of our village. It was our year to host the gathering. I watched with growing anticipation as the Francach

rat

and Leon

lion

Clans arrived. The two groups eyed each other, the Leons licking their lips and baring their sharp teeth and the Francach raising their spears in silent warning.

I spotted my sister, Taryn, with her people. Her eyes were dark pools and her skin looked to be as dry as sandpaper. She and her clan were a far way from their home near the ocean. I imagine she missed the crash of waves against the beach and the smell of salt in the air.

"We welcome the Clans of Were," said Xonx, High Elder of the Capall

horse

people. He bowed from his waist and the silver hair that rested on his shoulders tumbled forward. In his human form, the greeting looked awkward. As if realizing this, Xonx let his true form take over, transforming himself into our Herd Stallion. His mane shimmered under the sun and his dark muscles rippled. With one stomp of his hoof he brought the meeting to order. In another instant Xonx was a simple man again.

"Today," Xonx continued, standing straight again and nodding at each clan leader, "our youth will undergo the trials set before them. Once they have proven their worth, they will be not only be allowed to join the clan of their choice, but they will also leave behind their childish ways and become an adult. A full-fledged member of their new community."

I lifted my voice with my fellows and cheered, our cries startling a group of crows clinging to an apple tree near the village square. My eyes followed their flight, and my soul ached to fly with them. Bran grabbed my hand and gave my fingers a squeeze. I jerked my attention back to Xonx.

"Those that desire to follow the Iompróidh may step forward now," Xonx said. Bran's warm hand pulled away from mine, leaving me feeling strangely empty. I hugged my arms to my chest and quietly counted those that yearned to walk with the mountain men.

Bran and another boy from our clan, I remembered his name was Echo, strode forward and stood at attention in front of the mountain men. Three left the huddle of Siorcs, one from the Francach, and five from the Leons. It was no surprise that nobody stepped out of the Mac Tíre group. As the most popular and well known among the Were, not many chose to leave. Three from the Seabhac Clan had me wondering why anyone would want to give up the chance to soar through the clouds. And two from the Iompróidh, who wanted to stay with their people but had to prove themselves, just like the rest of us.

We were allowed to sit on the dew-dampened ground. As the mountain men put forth their test hot cups of cocoa were pressed into our hands. I took a sip of the sweet brew and burned my tongue.

"The Iompróidh are not only a strong clan but one that prides itself in accuracy!" the mountain men's elder, Kyllan, shouted so all could hear. "To prove yerself worthy of our lot, ye'll throw a caber. The lads or lassies who can toss and land the log in a twelve 'o clock position will be welcomed with open claw, so to speak."

Jaws dropped when the crowd parted and one of the Iompróidh's marched out with a twenty-foot long beam on his broad shoulder. Kyllan threw back his head and laughed at the looks of awe on the wannabe apprentice's faces. Grabbing the log, Kyllan grasped it with his bulky arms. Bending at the waist, he shifted his arms down until his palms were under the end of the log. With a wink at the teens, he ran a few paces, hefted the log up, and threw it. The wood flew into the air, flipping end-over-end, before slamming into the ground in a perfect, straight line.

"There ya have it, folks. Easy as pie." A smile spread across Kyllan's ruddy cheeks. He pointed at Echo. "Now you have a go at it, lad."

I hid a smile in my cup when Echo wrapped his scrawny arms around the caber. His face grew purple straining under the log. With a grunt from Echo, the beam lifted. He stumbled forward a step and shoved the caber away from his chest. Instead of flying forward, the wood fell on one end and immediately fell back toward Echo. Yelping, Echo jumped back to avoid being crushed. Kyllan was faster. One meaty hand grasped the beam, preventing it from hitting both the ground and Echo.

"Sorry, lad," Kyllan shook his head. He frowned, shifting the log and dropping it on the ground with a thud. "Ye've failed the test."

From where I sat I could see Echo's shoulder's slump. I knew he still had the opportunity to pass the test in another clan, though it would be that much harder for him now that everyone had seen him fail. If he couldn't prove himself he would become an outcast amongst the Weres. A man without tribe, clan, or special abilities.

Kyllan wiggled an index finger at Bran, urging him forward. From the glint in his eye, I knew Bran refused to fail. The caber was passed to his waiting arms. The muscles in Bran's arms grew taut as he hugged the beam close. His hands moved down toward the base of the log until his fingers linked together, supporting the bottom. A growl exploded from his throat and the log flew from his grasp. I held my breath, watching the caber jump into the sky, flip in the air, and land on the ground straight as an arrow in front of Bran.

"Well done, lad," Kyllan said, slapping Bran on his shoulder. Bran flushed from the praise, nodded at his new elder, and slipped into the horde of mountain men watching the event. They, too, pounded on his back, welcoming him into their tribe.

My heart swelled with pride. Bran had achieved his dream, just as I knew he would. His eyes caught mine and I allowed a smile to wash over my face. He returned a grin that slowly slid into a frown. His brow furrowed as he stared at me. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he finally realize that life would never be the same? That he and I would no longer be able to climb in the fruit orchard and lob apples at each other? That there would be no more summer swimming at Lake Pastern? That our laughter under the stars at the solstice bonfire would no longer echo across the plains? My smile wobbled. I could no longer hold his gaze and pretend to be happy that we were parting ways.

The Siorc Clan's elder stepped to the forefront, nodding at Kyllan as he marched back to his clan and took his place in front of his people.

"Elenoh, Elder of the Siorc Clan," the woman said, introducing herself. Her hair was cropped short and a necklace of shark teeth encircled her pale throat. "Our people are known for their speed in the water and," she flashed a smile, exposing a set of teeth that had been filed into sharp points, "our infamous hunting ability." Elenoh pointed at the nine teens that waited to prove themselves to the Siorc Clan. She tossed each a small, woven basket.

"Your challenge is simple. Fill the basket with fish. You have until the noon sun rises in the sky."

Nine sets of feet pounded toward the lake, baskets in tow. The elders took the opportunity to let us stand, stretch, and mingle as lunch—a feast of meat, fruits, and breads—were set out for all to share. I grabbed a handful of strawberries from a bowl carved of maple wood and popped one in my mouth. An elbow nudged my arm.

"Get your own, Bran. These are mine," I curled my fingers around the berries, protecting them from Bran's greedy fingers.

"Are you nervous?" Bran asked, snagging a piece of ham from a wooden platter.

Another berry squished between my teeth. "A bit. But like you, I know I can do this."

"Word is," Bran nibbled at the meat and swallowed. "The Seabhac Clan will be offering the last test."

I wiped my red-stained hands on my tunic before reaching for a chunk of cheese. I ripped a piece of bread from a brown loaf. "That's two more days," I said. Bran nodded and pinched a crumb from my bread for himself.

"Only two more days and we'll be full-fledged members of the Were," Bran said with a grin, stealing the cheese from my hand.

Two more days I thought, Until Bran and I are separated forever. I couldn't eat anymore, the bread felt like sawdust on my tongue. I passed the rest of my chunk to Bran, who eagerly gulped it down.

Although I was excited to become a Were, it was hard to imagine my life without Bran at my side. I wondered if he felt the same. As time passed and the Siorc teens were welcomed into their new clan, Bran never mentioned the reason for his earlier frown. Instead, he gushed about the physical attributes of the Iompróidh and how, as soon as they reached their mountain village, he would be presented with his first broadsword.

We sat together as the third and final trial for the day was presented by Codix, the Pack Leader of the Mac Tíre Clan. Their leader was a man with long, shaggy hair and sharp, blue eyes.

"It'll be a fight," Bran whispered. "The wolf people always use a fight as their test."

I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my chin on my knee, silent. I knew as well as Bran how theMac Tíres relished a good fight. Those that desired to join their pack had the advantage in training for their test, since it was the same year after year.

Twelve teens bounced forward when Codix motioned them over.

"Looks like we have an even pairing," Codix said, his eyes sparkled as the setting sun tossed her last rays in his face. "You will each partner off and fight. The one remaining from each battle will be accepted as Omegas into the Mac Tíre Clan."

"Told ya," Bran hissed under his breath. I lifted my eyes to the sky, ignoring the grunts and groans from the twelve fighters as they struggled against each other. The first star of the night made its appearance.

"The Seabhac Clan lies close to the Iompróidh, aye?" I asked Bran, trying to remember the layout of the land.

"Aye."

"Then maybe we will be able to see each other when this is all over."

Bran turned and shot me a disgusted look. "That's what I've said, Kimly. Did you not believe me?"

"Well," I felt the heat of a blush creep under the collar of my tunic. "You have to admit, its never been heard of before. People from two different clans remaining friends or," the heat spread like fire to my face, "more than friends? Nay. Instead, those friendships fade."

The crowd cheered as the six small battles ended. The winners rose their arms triumphantly to the sky, threw back their heads, and howled in victory. Bran leaned so close I could see flecks of gold in his eyes.

"Then we'll be the first to change that trend," he murmured. The future seemed to flash in the depths of his eyes. I could see Bran offering his back to Kyllan and the four lines clawed against his skin that would transform him into a Werebear. I could see myself passing the Seabhac Clan's test and the bite that would change me into a Werehawk.

An eternity passed in Bran's eyes. I could see our friendship grow. I would swoop down on red wings and find him gathering berries. We would chuck the fruit at each other and laugh until our sides hurt. He would spot me gathering water at Feather River. We would jump into the water and splash each other until we were thoroughly soaked before stretching out on a boulder and drying out under the sun. We would plan a rendezvous at the highest peak of Claw Mountain and watch the stars streak across the dark sky. Our children would one day stand at attention and wait with breathless anticipation for their chance to join the Were.

Bran bumped my shoulder with his own and I blinked. The future swirled away like smoke escaping the fire but a contented peace remained in my soul. Bran grabbed my hand and I squeezed his fingers, ready to join the Were.




________________________________________

Notes:
*Iompróidh: bear
*Capall: horse
*Seabhac: hawk
*Francach: rat
*Siorc: shark
*Mac tíre: wolf
*Leon: lion

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Written for: 12 Stories in 12 Months
May 2018
2594 words