Prologue
Tonight was the last night I would spend with my whole pack. At the crack of dawn, those that were partaking in the sacred ritual would be leaving for the ancient forests that shrouded the mountain base in a ring of rich greens and browns. No one really knew what dwelled within the forests itself. Most that had ventured into the unchartered territory never returned and those who did had been driven insane. It was a ritual older than anyone could remember, but everyone on the island wanted to complete it since the rewards were so great.
We would be left to roam the forests, the only 2 rules, kill or be killed, and no help from the outside. If you survived, you were a fully-fledged warrior and were free to join the ranks of your choosing. Those that made it to the mountain peak first were treated like kings and queens; worthy champions ready to lead. Those that failed to reach the peak would not become a warrior and would instead find their place somewhere else in the pack. We got two weeks and the clothes on our backs to prove our worth. The month after held a week-long celebration in the hopes of mates finding each other. The completion of the ritual also served to access the true extent of our power; to complete the ritual .was to attain near immortality, and to release our full potential.
I am the alpha’s daughter, and the first in line for his title; something that I would inherit only days after turning twenty-one. I was his only heir, an unusual occurrence for our kind. My mother had died, sacrificing herself to protect my pack when I was only two years old. The way she was brutalized left no room for her to ever heal. Even with the magical touch of a high warlock. I have no memories of my mother, but my father was fond of her, and never mated with anyone since despite there being an abundance of eligible people. He couldn’t let go of the undying love he held for the other part of his soul that was now buried deep within the ground. So, I remained an only child; raised to lead the pack that had raised me in my early years. I couldn’t wait to run the pack. I loved it dearly, and all the pack members who’d looked out for me when work kept my father away for too long. The new ideas I had; changes I wanted to make. Suggestions and ideas I’d picked up over the years from my friends and guardians. This pack had shown my only love and kindness - something I wanted every pack member to feel with no one feeling alone.
I had been trained with the warriors of the pack, all of us younger ones had. Preparing us for the ancient ritual that would deem us worthy and unlock our real potential. It has never been easy, but it felt good, the burning muscles, the ache of my joints as I pushed myself, sparring with other youngsters and warriors alike, testing my limits. Weekends spent in the forests, or days up in the chilly mountains, teaching us about the nature around us and how to work with it to stay alive in even the harshest of conditions. Every lesson counted, and we all knew it. We didn’t have days off, the only exceptions being on doctors’ orders.
The ritual was designed to push everyone, break them down and see who would remain. Strip us of everything we think we know and see just how long we could last on our own. Feuds old and new arose, and any disputes that occurred were brushed off, no consequences after the event. Alliances were built and broken over the course of the two weeks. Not every pack agreed with the ritual, and some blatantly refused to partake, but no one was going to force them. It wasn’t worth the hassle or arguments. After all, there were many other ways to achieve one’s full aptitude that didn’t involve several hundred hungry werewolves alone on a mountain with no consequences for their actions.
“I love you dad.” I whispered, nuzzling my father in a tight warm embrace.
“Make us proud Cerriella.”
With one final tight squeeze, I shifted into my wolf form, a silvery grey beast, my brown eyes the only human part of my other form. My bag lay at my feet, and I picked it up gently; the material feeling foreign in my mouth and trotted over to where a large golden-brown wolf waited. Darrien was the packs head trainer and would be escorting us to the mountain for the ritual.
Once everyone had said their farewells, we headed off down the overgrown track. The path was a direct route to the forests and was only used a couple of times a year. When I became Alpha, I would have the track looked after, more pleasant to the eye and paw. I winced slightly as a thorn embedded itself into the softness of my pad. Stopping, and gently tugged at it until it came loose, crimson blood blossoming from the small wound. I continued forwards, following the rest of the wolves with my ears pricked and my head held high.
________
We would spend a single night in a small grassy clearing about halfway between the pack’s home and the base of the mountains. The journey was long and for the most part dull. It seemed like many of the animals had gone into hibernation or had moved on to their winter migrations. The trees were losing their leaves in a flurry of reds and golds and oranges, a fiery contrast to the frosty air. It was tradition for the ritual to take place in the middle of autumn when prey was scarce, shelter necessary and heat was crucial to your survival. Darrien pushed forward, leading the participants to the clearing, as the afternoon turned into evening. As dusk approached, we found ourselves in the small clearing. This was where we were to stop for the night. The grass was already damp with moisture and the ground hard and cold to the touch. It would not be a nice camping experience, the relentless cold biting through even the thickest of pelts. He split us into 3 groups, two were to hunt for any prey that they could find, and the other group was to stay and guard our camp from any lurking predators waiting for our guard to drop.
I was to stay and watch the camp with some other pack members. We checked the borders of the clearing several times, rusting bushes and checking the tree branches before settling down under a cluster of trees near the center of the clearing that provided the vantage of the entire encampment. It would be at least a couple of hours before either of the hunting groups returned since tracking prey in the wet weather would be a challenge. As boredom set in, I rummaged around in the foliage, flicking up piles of leaves and picked out a large stick. As the minutes ticked by, I gnawed and chewed on the stick until there were little wood shavings everywhere and no stick remained. Not long after I had finished chewing the stick into sawdust, the first of the hunting groups returned. They had three skinny rabbits and a small deer. It would be enough to feed most of our group tonight. Eventually the other group came back dragging with them two large bloody stag carcasses.
The rabbits were for the morning, Darrien ruled, as was the remainder of the deer meat. We settled down for the night, curled up tightly under the trees and tucked near bushes where we were sheltered from the bracing winds. Our bags were wherever people had left them, and many chose to curl up around them, guarding them from whatever may lurk in the woods.
I slept surprisingly well, given the unusual surroundings and the frosty night. The grass crackled and crunched as we arose at dawn, frost glimmering on the pelts of other wolves. At least it meant the dead animals hadn’t gone nasty overnight. Breakfast was short, and soon we were back on the track, travelling to the mountain base. The forest became denser, the light limited by layers of criss-crossed branches and the shadow of the mountains looming before us. There were elder wolves waiting for us as we arrived. They were here to oversee the entire ritual and make sure that no cheating occurred and that they knew how many of us there were. Once we were all checked in, and our bags searched, we could proceed into a waiting area. We had all shifted back into a human form as we waited. A large linen tent was serving hot drinks and toilets were available thankfully. It didn’t feel like we were about to enter 2 weeks of harsh weather with just our survival skills.
I looked up at the mountain and couldn’t see the top, thick grey clouds hid the upper half of the mountain giving away no secrets about what terrible trials the next two weeks held. Old disputes would surface, and new alliances would be born. I might be interested in finding allies depending on the pack and the circumstances. There were going to be some very powerful packs here and creating the foundations of friendship and allegiance would be of great use in the future.
There were stations like this all around the mountain, and we would all be released at dawn into the wilderness. I stayed with the rest of my pack; Darrien had gone to his quarters that were in a large building on the edge of the forest. He’d be staying here until the event was over, waiting to escort us back. Those of us that survived.
Sleep came painfully slow; the silvery moon was well arisen by the time my eyelids were drooping. I wasn’t the only one either. Many seemed to be sleepless in the final night before the ritual. It would be a slight disadvantage, but sleep would not be forced to come early despite the words uttered to the gods. I’d barely got five hours of sleep before dawn arrived, the first watery light peeking between the clouds and the horizon.
We were all herded into the waiting gates within the hour with little time for last minute pep talks and preparations. Everyone had a holding pen of sorts, fifty metres apart from the next. Several people were queued behind me waiting to move forwards. One-minute intervals, fifty metres away from other participants. It helped reduce the initial bloodbath, spacing everyone out. The final minute was being counted down the seconds ticking by loudly.
Fifty-seven, fifty-six, fifty-five...
All I had to do was get to the top of the mountain. It wasn’t far, but it was steep and cold.
Forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven...
Remember Darrien’s lessons. “Most berries are edible, but rely on your instincts, not your stomach. Your wolf will be right most of the time.”
Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one…
Remember the weak points on a wolf’s body and the human body. Keep your own weaknesses blocked. Even a small scratch can be fatal if it gets infected.
Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty…
If any of the pack members need help, try and assist them. The more that succeeded, the better. Even if they are not from my pack. It might help in the future.
Thirteen, twelve, eleven…
I shifted into my wolf form, bones breaking and reforming. The grey fur surfacing flecked with silver along my sides, belly and inner legs. It was almost time. I could feel my wolf, she was restless, eager to run.
The final second passed, and the gates sprang open, letting me out into the wilderness. Other wolves were already out, racing through the forest, towards the mountain. Some were fighting, distracted from the true task at hand. I decided not to wait around, and potentially attract any unwanted attention. I slid back, letting my instincts take over as I settled into a rhythm pushing towards the mountain. Clods of turf sprayed upwards as we ran. An obvious trail to follow. Eventually, the trees started getting bigger and denser, forcing our run to slow.
