Tide of Shadow

1

It was only moments after Kamau had awoken, and the gentle moonlight moving through the holes in the den to turn his frills silver should have been comforting. The sweet scent of flowers was also present as always, and as he crept away from the curled white form of his father to peer out of the massive eyehole of the gargantuan skull his family nested in, he took in a deep breath to try and calm his nerves.
Outside, the many colorful flowers that bloomed in the sunlight were just barely visible as tiny specks of color, their petals closed. Their nighttime cousins, however, were in full bloom, creating carpets of white and pink and blue over the grass. The sky was a deep blue-black, stars glittering within, and the glowing yellow-green shells of a flock of rorolo lit the far end of the field. The territorial squeaks of the local lake minawii filled the air, and the shadow of the resident trutholbyeva gander passed over the grass. It was a beautiful night, pleasantly cool, and the hunting looked good.
But Kamau couldn't shake the tightness in his chest. Tonight would be the most important night of his life so far, the start of his training as a Steward. He stole a glance at the hulking white mass that was his sleeping father, and between the soft frills and muscular limbs he could make out a smooth, pale blue eggshell.
We are the next generation of protectors, me and my baby sibling. Kamau silently reminded himself. If disaster were to strike and he and his family should die, the traditions and techniques of the fellisio Stewards would die with them. That was also why this training was so important. His little family was the last of a long line of those who took up the mantle of Steward, the last border between this beautiful land of flowers and peace, and the brutality of the Outlaws.
Kamau took a final deep breath, and stepped out into his fate. As he gazed on the beauty the den overlooked, he was interrupted by a mass of black leaping down to land in front of him, shockingly silent for something its size. "Hey Mom." Kamau said, unable to keep his voice from cracking.
She gave a whuff of amusement, and batted at him gently with one paw. "What's wrong, Kamau, you sound sick. Did you swallow an eulopii?" Her friendly, jocular tone made his fear let up a little, and he spoke. "I'm just nervous." He admitted. Kamau silently chastised himself for showing weakness in front of his soon-to-be mentor, and she seemed to read it in his body language.
"There is no need to be," she murmured as she lowered her head, allowing her whiskers to brush his own. "I'm your mother. No matter what, I'll be proud of you." Kamau could feel the warmth and love in those words within himself, like the sun shining through fog. He pressed his face into his mother's cheek, letting out a soft purr. Part of him wanted to keep up the affection, the tickle of her frills and whiskers was calming, and maybe if he stayed in this position the pressure of training would never come. But even though he was terrified, becoming a Steward was his sole dream. It was now or never.
He pulled away from his mother, and stared her in the face, all four of his teal eyes focusing on her indigo ones. "I'm ready." He said, somehow keeping all the anxiety from his tone. His mother gave a thunderous purr. "I know you are. Come. It's time I showed you something."
She leapt off the side of the ledge in one liquid motion, gracefully gliding down to earth and landing in a patch of bright red flowers. She beckoned with one wing for Kamau to follow, and he jumped into the air as well. As soon as his feet left the ledge, all he could think was that he was falling. He beat his wings frantically, his flapping embarrassingly audible. He tried to keep watch, to control his landing, but all he could perceive was the ground rushing up to meet him. He squeezed both pairs of eyes shut, feeling the previously-gentle breeze whip at his face.
After a moment that seemed to take forever yet no time at all, he felt his front paws meet grass. He was ready to flop down and embrace the safety of solid ground, but his back end was still moving, legs and tail still thrashing frantically. He made hurried steps forward, until his hindlegs settled once more, and all four feet were upon earth.
Once Kamau opened his eyes, he saw the midnight form of his mother still at the bottom of the cliff face, at least one and a half wingspans away, amusement clear in her eyes even from where Kamau stood.
As she bounded over to him, she took the opportunity to tease her cub. "I could tell you everything wrong with that glide," she quipped. "But then we'd be here till next sunset!"
Kamau growled in mock anger, playfully biting at his mother's chest-frills. She jumped back, her eyes wide in a display of comic, exaggerated shock. "Betrayed by my own son!" She yowled dramatically, "Thank the Wardens he can't do a proper combat bite!"
"Mom!" Kamau moaned. "That's enough!"
"Alright," she purred, eyes still shining with a playful spirit. She turned and began lumbering eastward, gesturing with one wing for Kamau to follow. He had to trot to keep up with his mother's long strides, embarrassed at her clear amusement. Kamau looked up and ahead, anything not to look in her eyes. His vision was dominated by the great hill of grass and craggy rock that dominated his family's section of the island. They were headed towards it at a steady pace. "What's there to show me up Blossom Hill?" He questioned. "There's nothing there but a watering hole."
As his mother looked down at him, some of her normal easy joviality seemed to fade. "The watering holes are sacred." She chastised. "They are the only places where both predator and prey can walk without fear of the other. They are vital to the peace we Stewards maintain."
At her words, Kamau felt a new kind of reverence for the places he had previously thought mundane. However, he still had questions. "But why walk all the way uphill? There's a watering hole right by the den!" His mother leaned down, and whispered into his ear in an exaggeratedly conspiratorial manner. "It isn't the watering hole I want to show you. It's even more special." To his own embarrassment, Kamau's ears pricked up with interest. If his mother had spoken so reverently of the watering holes, what could possibly be more sacred?
Clearly sensing his interest, his mother spoke. "You'll see what it is when we get there. But first, I must give you The Sacred Trial of Knowledge!" From her tone, Kamau knew what was coming. "This better not be a bunch of boring questions."
"Oh Kamau!" She cried, "How you wound me! My dear son, calling my questions boring!" He waited for her to be finished waxing poetic about this agony of agonies. "But really," her voice turned even again. "This is an important test. You can't be a Steward if you don't understand being one."
Kamau supposed she was right, but braced himself as he walked anyway. "First question," His mother began. "Which species had the longest family line of Stewards?" Kamau sighed deeply. "We all know this, Mother! It was us, the fellisio!"
"Correct!" She cried. "Next question! What is the role of a Steward?" Despite himself, Kamau felt real excitement at this one. "We protect the balance of Sonaria, making sure that no creature overhunts or overgrazes. And we make sure that everyone can carry out their natural ways the way the Wardens intended. And we protect the Pact by fighting off the evil Outlaws wherever they appear!"
"And what is this Pact, and these Outlaws?" His mother goaded, her tone just as enthusiastic as his. "The Pact," Kamau went on, "Is the most important law that all creatures follow, created when the world was newly made. It says that no creature may kill another for anything but survival. The Outlaws break this law, and kill for pleasure, that's why we gotta vanquish them!"
As Kamau looked at his mother, gasping for breath after his tirade, she seemed to glow with pride. "Very good. Now, who or what created the Stewards? Who was the first of us?"
Kamau needed to think a little on this one. "Father says that the Wardens were the first Stewards, and told mortals how to do it because they had to go back to the sky, or something."
A huge black paw bopped his head gently. "Not quite. The truth is, nobody really knows. Perhaps it was my dear Anan's Warden story, or perhaps our ways came into being on their own."
Kamau felt his expression fall. Could he fail his training on his very first test? "Don't worry." His mother said at the sight. "You're still doing much better than I did on my knowledge trial. Believe it or not, I got every question wrong! If you fail you can try again later."
Feeling slightly reassured, Kamau steeled himself for the next question. "Why is what we do important?" His mother was clearly amused, ready for the incoming tirade. "Because we make sure everything is in balance!" Kamau cried, a little too loudly. "We advise migrations, we make sure no one takes too much from the land, we fight Outlaws, we-"
"Slow down, son!" His mother purred. "I can see you're very passionate about our duties. That's very good." Kamau felt himself swell with pride at her compliment. But as soon as the feeling came, it was replaced with jittery nerves, for his mother's face had gone gravely serious. "Final question." she said. "What quality is most important as a Steward?"
Kamau was sure he had known this, it should have been easy. But his desperate mental searching yielded no results. "Um... That they're strong?" He offered, but from his mother's expression he knew he had gotten it wrong.
"Good try," she said gently. "But it's actually something many creatures underestimate. Love." Kamau blinked at her, trying to register the logic of the statement. How could love help fight outlaws, or reason with aggressive predators?
"That's dumb." He blurted out. As soon as he realized what he said, Kamau lowered his face, his tail involuntarily raising in distress. But before he could utter the stream of apologies building behind his jaws, she burst out several whuffs of laughter. "Oh, it may seem silly," She said once she regained enough air to speak. "But we all need to be a little silly sometimes. Besides, it really is important." She took one of his frills in her teeth to groom out some dirt, and continued.
"To be a truly good Steward, you must care about the land and its inhabitants. If you can't summon that love for Sonaria, you'll be a mediocre Steward at best."
Briefly Kamau wondered, were there any bad Stewards? Ones who couldn't be bothered to do their duties, or favored one species over the others? He banished the question immediately. Being a Steward meant protection and fighting evil. Surely no creature could shirk something so important.
The grooming of his frill ceased, and his mother looked him in the eyes. "Tell me Kamau," she rumbled. "Do you love the flower cove, and those who live here?"
Kamau thought of his home, and its verdant splendor. The array of colors and scents the flowers provided each day, the twisting lengths of rock that grew all over and around it. The faint, distant sound of the ocean, and the cries of the pelagic fliers that ventured this far inland. He called to his mind images of the land's residents, the darting flickaflie and brequewk that danced around the bigger blooms. The quezekel colonies that appeared to be flowers themselves, until one of their bright heads would snap up at a passing flier. The ancient hygos that stalked the outskirts of his family's territory, a friendly rival of his parents. Even the belligerent trutholbyeva pair that nested on the higher rock formations, and would dive bomb even his parents if they came too close. And then he imagined what he would do if anything happened to all of it, and felt a pit of sadness inside him.
"Yes." He said finally. "Yes, I do love this place." His mother nuzzled his forehead, her pride evident. "I knew you would say so." Kamau felt as if he might burst with joy. Before he could ask if the test was complete, his mother started walking again. He had to trot to keep up with her brisk pace, but before he knew it they had crested the hill.
Kamau had been to this watering hole only a few times, mostly when he was very young. He remembered attempting to befriend other cubs, but they had usually abandoned him for games with others, games that didn't involve quite so many rules as his. His parents had reassured him that someday he would make friends, that there was certainly someone out there who could "handle his intensity," whatever that meant. In truth, Kamau wasn't bothered. He had a whole cove to explore, most of the inhabitants of which would not harm him out of respect for his parents.
But the crystal blue water, and the waterfall cascading into it were pleasant, even in his memories. The whole place exuded a sense of calm. His mother waved a wing to direct him left, and Kamau followed her onto a tiny outcropping, jutting out over the forest and offering a look at the ocean. "Look this way." She whispered, her voice full of tangible reverence. He turned, and there it was. Kamau couldn't believe that he hadn't seen it at first. Several pillars surrounding a statue hewn from the cliff face itself. It depicted a centauroid being, front limbs ending in small paws. Its main arms possessed dexterous claws, held before is chest as if holding a cub. Its ears were long, and may have looked comical if not for the magnificent branching antlers directly adjacent to them. The flowers adorning them were carved from some kind of green gemstone, the faint glow of which barely visible in the daylight. Its ears and shoulders were adorned with the same material, and so was its face. Beneath the stone halo, pale green eyes glistened in a mammalian face. But the most impressive part of the statue was its expression. Kamau could only compare it to the way his father got after he went out exploring too late. A caretaker, stern but kind.
"Do you know who it is?" Came the whisper of his mother in his ear. "Farhaus." The name came out as a breathy whisper. "The Verdant Warden."
"Indeed." Was the reply. "This visit marks the first step of your training. A Steward being born. When that training is complete, you will go to the volcano, to the shrine of Mors'vuhk. The death of the cub you were."
Kamau's frills lifted excitedly. He knew why this was! "Its because life and death are connected, right?"
"Yes." His mother confirmed. "Farhaus and Mors'vuhk dance together eternally. When one stops, the next begins again."
As she made to leave, Kamau didn't follow. He felt as if he could stay under the stone Farhaus' gaze forever.
"Stay as long as you want." His mother said from next to him. "I understand the feeling. There's nothing like stepping into a Warden's place of power for the first time." She paused. "But make sure to get some sleep! Your training will begin in earnest tomorrow."