Descendants of Tthyrna

Chapter One

It’s dark out. And the full moon is risen. The next three days will be full of preparation. After this full moon, comes the day that marks her sixteenth year alive. Sixteen years since her mother gave birth to her. Sixteen years of her life have already past by. She glanced out the window at the shining, white moon illuminating the forest. Following an urge, she walked outside her family’s small village hut and wanders the forest, never taking her eyes off the moon. Her bare feet scrape across the dirt and debris on the ground, her dress dragging along behind her. It’s quite beautiful, the moon. Not pure white, not perfect, but beautiful just the same. She comes to a stop in a clearing that is unknown to her. Finally taking her eyes off the moon she looks down at her hands and traces the shape of the Rrynla on her left wrist. A twisted, knotted image that looks almost like a beautiful flower, all loopy and intricate. It glows faintly in the moonlight. A feeling of power begins to seep from her very being. Her chest tightened then expanded. Her senses were cut off. She could not see. She could not hear. The damp earth had disappeared from beneath her feet. There was nothing.

~*~

Curled on the ground in a foetal position, she awaited the next onslaught of pain. Paralysed by fear and unable to move, her body, wracked and feeble. After what could have been hours, her muscles began to twitch, signalling her renewed ability to move. She darts forward, shooting through the trees leaving only a trail of disturbed dust in her wake. Her legs felt stronger than ever. Much better than her weak human legs. As she runs, pounding her paws into the dirt, her legs only strengthen further. The change is dramatic. There she lay not moments ago, small and broken in the dirt, ready to die; now up and running with a newfound strength. And a power. A seductive and elusive power that threatens to overcome her unless she can control it. With each passing moment she could feel herself becoming stronger. Each footfall, each intake of breath brings her closer to her highest point of strength. She has no sense of fear. She is the hunter now and nothing could threaten her. The darkness of the night hid nothing from her pale green eyes, only aided her fur in its camouflage.

A spring bubbled happily nearby and she altered her path in order to locate it. She listened intently and followed the sound of the spring, leading her north. She began to slow and approached the small pool with caution, her senses alert for the first sign of a threat. A thick, cloying smell pervaded her nostrils and the air tasted bitter. All wrong for such a clear night as this. She lay down and rested her head on her front paws, watching her reflection in the dancing water. An ear here, a muzzle there. Lowering her paw, she felt the temperature of the water. Quite warm for such a cool night. On a similar line, she reflected, I should be shivering with such a thin gown on. Reviewing her reflection, an understanding dawned upon her. Pointed ears. A muzzle. She looks down. Great big paws. Fur. Heightened senses. She peered over her shoulder. A tail. No doubt about it, I’m a great big wolf.

Her fur was dark, not black, but a deep midnight colour. There was something else. Emptiness. A sense of loneliness that made her power feel almost hollow. The snap of a branch returned her from the inner depths of her thoughts. She turned her head and almost launched an attack at the figure that loomed behind her. A great chestnut horse, a light furred deer, a glaring tiger. And up in the trees sat an owl and an eagle. Entwined in the branches, lay a huge snake. All of them stood there with their eyes resting upon the awkward creature before them. Their eyes, all of them human and all of them different, showed no emotion. The horse was the first to speak. “Jaelithe, I am Alyat and these are my companions. We have long awaited this day, when the last of the descendants of the Tthyrna would join us. We welcome you to our circle and humbly apologise for startling you.”

The formality in her voice had a slight edge to it, making Jaelithe realise how weak she must look. In an attempt to rectify this, she widened her stance and raised her head to look Alyat in the eye. For the first time in this new body, Jaelithe attempted to speak. “Thank you, Alyat. However, I do not fully understand what has happened to me or how you know who I am.”