I heard the drums pounding in the field, knowing it was going to be any second now.
I stood against the opening of the tent, poised for the moment I had been playing over in my mind for weeks, and even months before. I had my pack and my staff - the name Torinn crudely scratched long ago into the side - strapped to my body, which was now shaking with anticipation. I was but a handful of years older than the young ones in the field now, and even after all the preparation I was troubled with thoughts of doubt, with worries that I was making a grave mistake, with fear that I would never speak to my brothers or sisters again.
It was the night of Tobor Z'ar, or New Life. This was the ceremony that honored the young dragonborn crossing over from childhood to join their elders as adults. It was one of the happiest nights for the clan, and the celebration often carried deep into the night. Their rhythmic cries of "Vrak ui loex, darastrix ui kitril!" sang triumphantly through the roaring wind. It never seemed more right than at this instant, knowing what was coming.
I could see shadows dancing on the walls of my tent from the distant torchlight. I would have been celebrating right alongside them had things headed on a different path. I wondered how many of my clan were as afraid as I was. The Drachedandion have always wanted harmony for the Isle, but in the last months and weeks it had become less certain the hope is shared with the other clans.
It was the night of Tobor Z'ar, or New Life. This was the ceremony that honored the young dragonborn crossing over from childhood to join their elders as adults. It was one of the happiest nights for the clan, and the celebration often carried deep into the night. Their rhythmic cries of "Vrak ui loex, darastrix ui kitril!" sang triumphantly through the roaring wind. It never seemed more right than at this instant, knowing what was coming.
I could see shadows dancing on the walls of my tent from the distant torchlight. I would have been celebrating right alongside them had things headed on a different path. I wondered how many of my clan were as afraid as I was. The Drachedandion have always wanted harmony for the Isle, but in the last months and weeks it had become less certain the hope is shared with the other clans.
I knew if I remained, there was nothing I could do to stop the avalanche. The rumors of the dragonborn clans warring between themselves was a laugh over our dinner months ago; the clan elders were meeting in secret now so often we can't ignore the possibility any longer. I can't stand by while brother fights brother. I have to find something that can unite us again, even if it means never coming back.
The drums raced toward their climax heavy and thick as the wind picked up, carrying the sound into the skies. Vrak ui loex, darastrix ui kitril, I whispered toward the stars, and waited for the breath of the words to fade into the night. Child is dead, dragon is born.
I sprinted for the gates and into the dark ahead.
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