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My Wild Beast-Chapter 87: The Call of Tayun (8)
Chapter 87: The Call of Tayun (8)
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ Trial of the Ancient °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
"Cute hair," Vulcan remarked from where he already perched on a low branch to a tree, his guide as still as the tree on the ground.
Yoa’s scowl deepened at the harpy-eagle’s words, but the held his tongue. His voice was not wasted on those who hadn’t earned it. That right belonged to his kin, to those who walked beside him, not someone whose eyes was on the same prize. Vulcan was no friend... just a rival whose shadow grew longer by the day.
Vulcan’s wings weren’t folded behind him in a comfortable position, they were arched wide around him, casting long shadows like an angel of death. His pale hair framed his face, falling just to his chin in the traditional style of the harpy-eagle shifters. But unlike most, Vulcan wore is heritage with flair, branding his position as the Sky Matron’s son and next heir to the Silver Feather flock. Golden beads adorned his hair, and two thin braids hung on either side of his face, each threaded with a feather that kept the strands from veiling his sharp gaze.
Yoa’s gaze flicked back to the phantom guides now standing side by side before the dark, dense jungle where others dared not go. The Vohraki once claimed these lands before another arrived, and the trees twisted and shrivelled to the power lurking inside.
Many youngsters dared each other to go into these parts. They wanted to prove their bravery. Many left untouched. Some never returned again.
If Zahul hadn’t insisted Yoa learned about the creature that resided in these parts, he might not feel the same wave of nerves now gripping at every muscle fibre in his body, stiffening his spine and locking his jaw with determination. Is this the trial he will fail?
It was a high possibility.
The scriptures Zahul had given him, blocks of stone with cryptic messages and stories, was not enough for him to understand how to beat the creature.
Did his mother know what trial awaited him? Was that why she clung to him the night before, afraid to let go until his father had to gently pry her fingers from him? No, that was impossible. The trials were sacred, their details kept secret and shared with only a chosen few.
Maybe it was a mother’s instinct. Or maybe it was simply the knowledge that the trials would never get easier, not matter his young age.
Zahul stared at young Yoa—though it was hard to tell if he truly had eyes. Still, the phantom guide was clearly looking in his direction. Both of them stood with their backs to Vulcan, making Yoa wonder why he was here at all.
Was this not also Vulcan’s trial? He did not know. For all he knew, Vulcan might have walked his own path moons ago, or his trial might bear no resemblance to this one.
"The next trial awaits beneath roots twisted by time and heat. A beast of old, born of sun and shadow, has wandered beyond its sacred path. You must walk with caution, Yohuali. What is sacred is not always safe. What is feared is not always meant to fall to blade or claw. The Ancient does not belong to the Vohraki lands. Return it to the silence from which it came, if you can. Speak not with anger. Move not with haste. This trial is not measured by power, but with knowing when not to strike."
Great. Cryptic like usual.
Yoa tried to focus on Zahul’s words, figure out what he meant.
"Is there a time limit?" Yoa asked while his mind raced with what he needed to do. The ancient living in these parts was ferocious and was read to be nearly impossible to fight. It was probably why it was left on the island.
Such beings were not birthed by Tayun or the Gods for jest. Or perhaps they were, as divine wrath, for those who stray from the path set by the ancestors. Children of the Vohraki, and any who entered these lands were expected to heed the warnings passed down by their elders or else be reminded of the danger that lurked there. For courage and foolhardiness often walk side by side. Yoa should know, he and his friends had danced with danger more times than he could count.
"There is no time limit," came Zahul’s raspy reply. "But I warn you that lives are at stake."
Vulcan rose, standing tall from the branch. "This will be good," he smirked, eyes zeroing in on Yoa.
"You are not permitted to watch. You may wait here but venture no further," the other guide said sternly.
"Oh, I’ll wait." Vulcan’s smirk grew as he held Yoa’s gaze. "Fate might smile favourably on me this day, and I wait no longer to become Tayun’s guardian." ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
So, Vulcan had already passed his trial and was waiting for Yoa’s failure. That only motivated him into passing more, no matter how impossible this appeared to be right now.
Yoa ignored the pompous bird and nodded at his guide. "Zahul."
"Yohuali." He dipped his head.
Yoa inhaled deeply and tried to relax his shoulders, his mind racing with the words Zahul spoke before, hoping the cryptic message offered him some guidance about dealing with the Teju Jagua.
"Try not to die too quickly," Vulcan mocked from where he casually walked along the branch, watching Yoa walk beneath him.
His chin raised at the insult, then he banished his mind of the bird brain. This was no time to have a muddled mind. Not when he was facing a creature that spat fire and poison, and could blind it’s victims with its glare alone.
Yoa’s hand tightened around the dagger sheathed at his side. Atia had forged it for their rite of passage, meant as a gift for Aiyana. But a few sunrises ago, she had passed it into Yoa’s palm, sensing he might need more than just claws and teeth for what lay ahead. They still had time before their rite.
"I named it Firstmark," she’d said. "May each of us wield it and spill first blood with it."