Amoris Fortunata/Phillida Nerilla

It was a great day today. The sun was shining, the birds were twittering away, and the clash of swords was heard throughout the island. I was currently residing with The Powers when Ammie suddenly took control over me.

It was impossible. Why would I want to take over Phil when we were fighting? She loved the rush, the swell of adrenaline, while I loved nothing more than peace, quiet, and truth. It was as if I was being controlled by a much higher power, without any reason, just to hurt my best friend. My almost only friend...

I trembled as Phil's anger shook my body. She wasn't in a good mood anymore, but who wouldn't be, if their friend took over their lives. I had the urge to punch myself, but luckily held back, since The Powers would find out about my weird life. Instead, I tried as hard as I could to get Phil back in control.

But it was as if I had been stuck in this body, without the ability to get Phil back- who was fuming in the darker corners of my thoughts. I was desperate. What else could I do? I, Amoris Fortunata was definitely not of the kind to fight, and I felt the need to pull off the stupid wig, take out the coloured contacts, and switch clothing- I was much too uncovered here. It may have been good enough just to rub a small smudge off my Mirai'i symbol- the small change that made Amoris into Phillida.

And all of a sudden, I was back in control. As if Ammie had just simply vanished into thin air- or in this case, into a mere thought- and though I wasn't scared of anything, I was surprised. And not very pleasantly. Was someone playing a stupid joke? Was the darkness in our world getting powerful enough to switch the souls and thoughts in control? I had no idea, and didn't really want to find out. My curiosity had only ever caused us trouble. This time, it wouldn't cause anything.

I bit my lip, suddenly forgetting where I was, desperately trying to search my thoughts for a trace of Ammie. But she was nowhere to be found, and I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I was with the Powers, my head not buzzing because of an hyperactive friend in my thoughts, and I was about to use a sword. It had been forever since Ammie had managed to sneak past the Cherubim, and it was mainly because of a boy who we won't get all mixed up in this. It wouldn't have ended well, anyway.

But I was here now, and I stepped forward in the line to the training centre, gladly taking the sword out of my locker. I gripped the golden handle, gently lifting it and dropping it to get used to the weight of the shining, unearthly weapon.

I had to wait in line for about another half hour, and time passed even slower than usual, since Ammie wasn't here to blubber about her feelings, even though I felt them just like her. I had no idea why she had disappeared- she hadn't seemed angry, and she was definitely nothing like me- she wasn't just fuming about me in the corner of my mind. She was well and truly gone. And the silence drove me around the bend.

Literally and physically- I mean, the line curved around a smaller building, and I walked round the bend all high and mighty...

Until I ran into something- or, more precisely, someone- and that someone was two very, very important people.

I coughed nervously, letting a weak chuckle escape my lips, though I hadn't wanted to. Cherubim rarely left their homes, and if they did, it was something terribly important. Even more important if they had to meet with the Powers.

"Miss Phillida?" the man on the left asked, the angel I knew as Michael, the one and only. And I was terrified. I would have even summoned my wings if my curiosity hadn't gotten the better of me. I was now desperate to know why they were here.

"Yes, that is most definitely...

Where the hell was I? Why in the hell were Michael and Gabriel, archangels of Mir, standing before me? What was I speaking? Phil was still here, thank god, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She whispered the end of the sentence to me, and I finished it for her aloud.

"Me. I am Phillida, but you can call me Phil, if you really want to..." It felt wrong to play the archangels, but the weird rush of adrenaline left me enough power to throw a quick wink at the two high angels. But in truth, after finishing the sentence, I had become so terrified that I could barely breathe. And Phil's weird corset top wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world.

"Darling, I know it's you, Amoris," Gabriel said, his words sleek and pounced on me as quick as a cat. How did he know? And I realized that this archangel was someone who you couldn't lie in front of. "We've been watching you for a while. Do you want to come and talk with us in...? A more private space, maybe?"

I blushed and nodded meekly, lowering my head and following Michael as he and Gabriel led me into a small shack near the training centre. And I was terrified of whatever was going to happen.

It was always Phil who got into trouble. It was always her who withstood the bad words, and held back the tears of this body. I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking about how I could keep the tears in, when Gabriel turned to me.

"Sweet pea, you know, you've been a pretty interesting angel, even in your short life. And so, Michael and I have decided that you shall be our chosen one."

Chosen one? How was I to be the chosen...?

I blinked a few times before I realized that it was me who was in control. This two-sided personality thing was spiralling desperately down into nothingness, since neither of us could be in control for long. Not anymore, that is.

"Why in hell would I be the chosen one? And what was I chosen for? And why am I the chosen one?" the questions burst out of me before I could stop them, and they hit the brick wall that is Michael pretty quickly. "I mean, I'm nothing that special, am I?"

Michael's lips curved into a smile, something I guess not many have seen from the Powers high angel. He wasn't one to speak much, and I had only heard him once, so I wasn't surprised when he looked sideways at Gabriel.

"My, my, Phillida, you are a curios one, aren't you?" Gabriel exclaimed. "Can you and Amoris not control these changes in personality, or are you just like this when you're surprised or even scared?"

"SCARED? HAH," I said, swinging the sword still in my hand absentmindedly. "As if I, Phillida Nerilla could get scared!"

Michael's smile just grew wider, and I had the feeling that he was proud of me. For what, I had no clue, but I was showing much personality and spirit that The Powers had shown me. And I felt like that gave me even more power of myself and the weird swit-

Okay, so frickle-frack. Lucifer in hell I hate these switches.

"I'm so sorry Gabriel Archangel!" I say, bowing my head slightly. This is so sucky. "I always manage to keep Phil and I in control, but it seems like there's something wrong- could it be something about the World Tree?"

"See, Michael, this is why we had to choose them!" Gabriel exclaimed, hurrying closer to me and cupping my cheek in his hand. It was colder than expected, but I blushed furiously, and that kept me warm.

-Amoris! Keep yourself alert! Anything could happen!- I heard Phil think, and I bit my lip. No getting carried away, just because the Cherubim Archangel and The Powers Archangel are just a little... well, a lot cuter than expected.

"Amoris, I hope Phillida is listening in there, because I am about to tell you what you were chosen for!" Gabriel smiled mischievously, a type of smile I knew oh-too-well from Phil when she looked in the mirror.

And I was back. I shook my head, stepped away from Gabriel's hand that was still touching my cheek, and listened.

"The World Tree is dying. Something dark and terrible is coming. We need you, you two to be the ones to save us. To keep the world from becoming a black hole that would suck us in and never let us out."

"The reason, is nothing more than your originality and ability for teamwork. Amoris and Phillida are complementary to each other, yet still work well- we would like you to do so as you save the whole world. We believe in you, and know that you can do this- you two can do it better than anyone." This must have been the longest sentence Michael had ever spoken, since even Gabriel looked shocked as he took a slight breath. "You go at dawn."

And that was...

WHERE ARE WE GOING? WHY US?

And the adventure began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Callina Sienna

Silence has always comforted me. It's all I've ever known, really, the

graceful quiet of Mir. Even within the healing hut, there are no cries

of pain or wails. Everyone gets healed eventually.

So it's a great shock when someone whispers in my ear. I almost

scream, and probably would have if not for the years that my vocal

cords have been in disuse.

"Miss Sienna?" the messenger asks.

"Yes, that's me," I murmur, trying not to disturb anyone else.

"You've been requested. Follow me." He turns and walks quickly out of

the hut - despite my long legs, I have to hurry to keep up.

The journey is a silent one, which I spend thinking. Looking past the

perfect towns of Mir, it's easy to see that something is wrong. More

visitors have come to our island than in years, and the elder angels

spend time whispering in serious tones, falling silent if any of us

approach them.

I haven't been told anything, though, which is why I'm wondering where

we're going. It seems as though we're approaching the town center,

where the archangels rule. As the biggest town, Emira often has the

archangels in rule there.

I can't ask any questions, though, because the man leads me into, yes,

the town hall. I can now barely keep up with the messenger and am

almost running after him, through the marble halls, past doors and

hallways, and into the chamber room.

I skid to a stop and look around wildly for the messenger, who has

disappeared. Than I glance at the people in front of me and drop into

a curtsy quickly.

"Rise, Callina Sienna," a low voice commands, and I immediately do,

although I can't quite look the three archangels in the eye.

Still, I study them covertly. It's probably rude to be staring at

Michael, Gabriel, and, of course, Raphael in this way, but I want to

be able to remember this for the rest of my life.

If I continue living. Only now do I start to wonder why I'm here. Did

I do something wrong? My palms begin to sweat and I hide my hands

behind my dress.

"She seems young," Michael murmurs to Raphael. "Are you sure she's so talented?"

"Trust me," Raphael warns, before speaking louder, aimed at me. "Miss Sienna."

"Yes, archangel?" I ask, lowering my head, preparing for whatever he might say.

"You have been selected for a very prestigious honor. One that no

other Seraphim will be able to claim."

I glance up at him. "May I ask the nature of it, archangel?"

"I trust that what we say will not leave this room?" Gabriel speaks,

and I answer truthfully, as I must.

"Yes, archangel."

"The World Tree is dying."

The words elicit a gasp from my mouth. It can't be.

For years, since before I existed, the World Tree provided for

everyone on Aimsir, from the vampires to the humans to us, the Angels.

It's responsible for the crops, the weather, the wellbeing of every

kind. If it's dying. . .

I speak before I can think about what I'm saying. "That's why

everything's all. . . wrong, isn't it? The elder angels have been

worried for weeks. Because of the tree."

Michael raises an eyebrow and Raphael nods, letting a hint of pleasure

leak through at my perceptiveness. "Quite right, Miss Sienna. And you

have been charged with protecting it."

I glance upwards again, sure that my eyes are as frightened as a

doe's. "Me? I mean, of course, I will if you have charged me with it,

archangel, but. . . why me?"

"I agree," Michael mumbled, still loud enough for me to hear. "She's

so young. As are all of the other choices, for that matter. Why not

send a more experienced group?"

"Oh, quiet, Michael," Raphael scolded. "You already have two of your

Powers in the group, you can't complain. As if they're more important

than the Seraphim! We have twice as many as your numbers in Mir, and

yet we have half as many on the mission!"

"Seraphim are important to the mission," Michael argues, "but Powers

actually know how to defend people!"

"And without my Seraphim, the Powers would be dead by now!" Raphael hissed back.

I stay silent, trying to ignore the blatant dissent within the Council

of Archangels. Gabriel, I notice, is wisely staying out of it -

although with his presence, it's hard to wonder how Michael and

Raphael can disagree so truthfully.

Gabriel finally clears his throat and says, softly, "Brothers, it will

be quite quicker if we explain to Miss Sienna what's going on,

introduce her to the other mission, and get them going. We must act

fast if we want to defend against the others."

"You are right, brother," Raphael concedes, ignoring a muttered "As

always," coming from Michael. "Miss Sienna, your task is to find the

World Tree and use your skills to protect it and make the world

better. You will have others with you - one Power, one Cherubim, and

one, uh, both. At any cost, you will protect it. Am I clear?"

"Yes, archangel. Perfectly." I curtsy again, but hesitate for a

second. "If I may ask, archangel?"

"Hmm?"

bag. I nod and let him lead me to where I'm meant to be meeting the

others.

He leads me out of the village, but before we're completely out of

sight, I glance back, at my little world, and wonder whether it will

ever be the same again.

"Why me? There are many older, more experienced Seraphim on Mir."

His face grows guarded. "You are a powerful healer, Miss Sienna, and

we do not wish for one older to go into what could be a battlefield. I

am certain that you will protect the tree as well as you can."

"Thank you, archangel," I murmur, but something in his words tugs at

me. I've a feeling he isn't speaking the whole truth - not quite

lying, but hiding something. And I want to know what it is.

"Oh, and Miss Sienna," Gabriel says as I'm about to leave. "You may

take one personal item with you, other than the amenities. A token of

home. Be warned, though - choose carefully. It could cost you if you

want to bring something of no use."

I nod and turn at Michael's dismissal. The messenger is waiting

outside, and he brings me home so I can pack my meager belongings into

a bag. I pause as I finish, wondering about my token. What could I

bring that's small enough and useful enough? My eyes pass over almost

all of my trinkets before coming to rest upon my wooden jewelry box,

half full of accessories. Somewhere in there, I know, is something I

could use.

I dump the box out gently on my blanket, searching through the

brooches, bracelets, and necklaces for a locket I know is in here.

My trainer, Master Tobias, had given me the locket, shaped like my

Mirai'i name when I finished training. It was meant to help me focus

and concentrate when healing.

I lift out the small spiral shape, untangling its delicate chain from

a small silver bracelet I had been given. As soon as I slip the locket

over my head, I feel a calmness settle over me.

I smile. "Thank you, Master."

"Ready, Miss Sienna?" the man, waiting outside, asks as I exit with my

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elora Reed

"Elora," I hear someone behind my back say. I turn around to look at the speaker. As soon as I look, my breath was taken away from me, " Hello Elora. I am-"

"You're Michael," I scream as I kneel down, "The ruler of all the powers," When I kneel down my long, flowy, white dress falls under me and scrapes the floor, leaving a black mark, " What brings you to the streets of Mir?"

"Please Elora. Stand up. Today is not a day for honouring." The look on his face has me worried, as if an Evil posing as Good has betrayed him, or someone very close to him has died.

"What's wrong Michael? Did I do something?"

"No. You have done nothing wrong. Its..." He replies as he starts to trail off.

" It's what? What is it?" I ask eagerly.

"It's the World Tree. It's in the hands of Evil."

"The World Tree? What's the World Tree?"

" The World Tree is what keeps the balance between the worlds and keeps them good but a terrible fate has occurred. The tree has fallen into the hands of Evil as I have told you before."

"And what do you want me to do about it and why did you decide that I should be the one of the angels going on this journey? What is so special about me?"

" I would like for you and three other Angels to try to find the tree and make sure that it stays in the power of Good. We chose you because out of all of The Powers, you are the best combat fighter. You know everything there is to know about fighting, even if you rarely do it. Do you think that you would be up to the task?"

"I definitely would be, but what would the job entail?"

"It would include you and the three other Angels that we have chosen, all from different Orders, going after and finding the World Tree, capturing it, and turning it back to the power of Good. "

"I believe that I could do that. Who are the other three Angels?"

"The other Angels accompanying you will be Amoris Fortunata, Callina Sienna, and Seraphina Ayres." The only name that sounds familiar to me Seraphina as she is the only one out of the three in my Order. Her black hair with icy blue tips will be forever imprinted in my brain. Most angels don't have dyed hair or dyed-looking hair. Seraphina and I have had small conversations, but nothing super important.

"Thank you Elora. I shall hope to see you soon." Michael says as he starts to fly away

"Goodbye Michael. I hope to see you again as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seraphina Ayres

"You've got to be kidding me." I'm sitting in my kitchen, and Michael is telling me the biggest joke I could ever hear.

"What's there to kid about?" Michael asks. He never was good with sarcasm. He's just informed me that I, Seraphina Ayres, have been "chosen" to find and save the World Tree. Um, how am I supposed to do that?

"Michael, you know me. Why would I be chosen for this? And what does chosen even mean?" I ask, still shocked that this is actually my life.

Michael sighs. "Seraphina, I do know you. I know that you're stubborn but strong, and you can do this. You are a very skilled fighter, and you'll need to be for this journey."

"Come on, you don't think I'd honestly think you specifically chose me, do you? What did you do, pick a name out of a hat?" I roll my eyes at him.

"That is not how you treat your elders. I am your leader, and you will listen to me. Now, I will tell you that no, you weren't my first choice, BUT I received many requests from others for you to be picked," he replies. I can sense he's not telling me the whole truth.

"Requests? So, what you're really telling me is I was basically kicked off the island. Great. You know, I knew I wasn't well liked around Aimsir, but I try to keep to myself. What did I do that people would want me to go fight on the front line?" I'm becoming angrier about this. How could my own species want me gone? I mean, I know I'm not the best person out there, but there's worse than me. Take Demons: they're selfish, and they just want to see the world burn. At least I'm not them.

"Seraphina, you will go on this journey. There's no denying it. You are an angel, albeit an unorthodox one, but your job is to protect Aimsir. This is a very important quest, and you should be honored to have it placed upon you. If you want the other angels to like you, here's your chance. Show them that you are worthy." Michael paused and then said, "Your father would be proud of you. Don't let him down."

"I can't believe you'd pull that card. Fine, Michael, I'll do this, but not for you or for anyone else in this town. I'm doing it for me. It's about time I got to get out of Moenia," I said. Our town of Moenia, Aimsir, is suffocating me. It's too small, and everybody here hates me for no reason. I think my point is justified.

Michael smiled and walked towards the door. "You leave in 2 days. Pack only what you will desperately need. I'll find you when it's time."

With that, I was left alone in my house. I look around me at my surroundings: the wooden dining room table worn with water marks, the shelves hanging from the ceiling and painted leaf green, the pictures on the walls of me and my father, the various plants strewn around the room. This house has been all I've had for a long time, and even though I said I didn't want to go, deep down, I kind of do. Whenever I'm in it, I can see my dad in everything. He wanted it to feel earthy and green, hence the plants and green paint (he wasn't much of a decorator). I stand up from my seat at the table and climb the stairs to the second floor. I stand in the threshold of my bedroom, and I know what I have to do. I have to save the World Tree. It was my father's greatest passion, and now I have to finish the journey for him. That doesn't mean I won't complain about it along the way, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lysander Ailouroeidis

I fall on my back yet remain confident in spite of being on the forest ground. I'm still in this. My opponent bares his teeth with overconfidence, and stands over me with his slick, black pelt shining in the sun. He sinks his teeth into my fur, and I let out a yowl before kicking him with my hind legs. By the time he finally lets up, my fur is blood stained, and it only fuels my will to fight it out to the end. I get back on to my feet, and we circle each other, waiting for the other one to make the first move. He uses his paw to bat at my muzzle, and he manages to scratch it, leaving a burning sensation and blood dripping down. I pounce and tackle him to the floor, and begin sinking my teeth into his neck until I start to taste blood.

"Alright, that's enough now break it up." a female voice calls the spar off.

We do as told and get off of each other and soon enough we're back to our human forms again, and I'm staring at a boy with icy blue eyes, and a hooked nose. The female next to him stands with her arms folded, looking at the both of us with disappointment. All of our spars have to go supervised, and normally we aren't supposed to make each other bleed. Catherine must be upset.

"What happened to no blood?" Catherine says sternly.

I shoot her an innocent smile, but she doesn't seem too amused.

"Good game Lysander." Peter breaks the awkwardness with words and a grin.

"You too Peter." I smile back.

We shake hands, and just stare at each other for a few moments before actually saying something else. Yet, just as Peter's about to say something, another male voice interrupts us.

"Lysander, may I speak with you?" the voice says.

I turn around to see our leader standing in the forest clearing, staring at me. I nod my head, and wave goodbye to my friends, Peter, and Catherine, before he leads me down a trail. I expect him to take me back to camp, but instead we go a different route. One I haven't been on before.

"Do you know what the world tree is?" he begins.

"Of course I do. We learn about it as cubs." I reply.

We walk through the forest, and I still have no idea where we're going. Sticks snap and leaves crunch underfoot, and I can hear birds singing in the distance. Where are we going?

"In case you didn't know, the world tree is dying. The humans weep at crop failures to plague. The poor farming and mining villages are beginning to collapse; in the cities many try to ignore the problem. Only the wealthy can be truly successful. The faithful turn to the sky and ask the world why it has abandoned them. A world in which those are miserable..." he trails off.

I feel as though I know where he's going with this, yet at the same time I can't pinpoint exactly what he's leading up to.

"Many of us are sending our best to save the tree...And I think you can do it. You have will, power, and heart. I think you can potentially save the world." he almost seemingly butters me up.

What?

"And if I can't?" I arch an eyebrow in skepticism.

He remains silent, and I feel as though I know what he's about to say. "The world will die if no one saves it...and so on so on and so on."

Is he seriously going to send me, ME, of all people, to save a tree? I'll fail. Why on earth would you want me to do it? I may have will, but that doesn't mean I'm good at gardening!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan Sylvan

Perhaps it's the wolf in me, but I've never been able to wholeheartedly trust a member of Clan Felis, let alone the son of our neighbouring camp's leader.

The opulent tent is filled with rich silks and fragrant oils, but I'm doubtful that there's anything in here that's truly made from gold - as Lucius claims - since they usually just pile all of their fine goods in one room when I visit, just to pretend they're living at a higher standard than the rest of us. Not that the room even needs to be decorated in this way at all; they'd be better off painting the room with only their Felis arrogance to leave me with the same impression.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean." Lucius grins up at me from behind the pieces of gold piled up on his desk.

I hate to generalise, but this particular camp is famed for being just as sly as the cats they are and as a result, I can't listen to anything Lucius says without doubting his honesty.

Today, he's being more than usually uncooperative, acting as if he doesn't know anything about the territory lines of his camp being moved a very noticeable mile or two into our own. Father wouldn't mind so much if they hadn't taken over the very profitable trading routes that our camp used to own in the process.

"Ah, I understand, my friend." He smiles sickeningly. "I have been wondering why recent trade has been so good, though I didn't think much of it."

Of course you didn't.

"Well, regardless of what you think, the territory is ours and always has been." I reply in a harsh tone. "We'll be moving it back within a couple of days and my father told me to remind you that he's expecting a compensatory payment to be made to our camp immediately."

"With i-"

"With interest." I cut him off.

Unable to meet my eyes, he stares at his desk instead and traces his precious gold coins with his index finger. Perhaps realising he can't win this one, he eventually stands up and circles the desk as he speaks.

"Don't worry, pup," He emphasises the word, pretending to be oblivious of the derogatory connotations. "I assure you I'm nothing if not reasonable. I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement."

I move to shake the slimy cat's hand, making sure a quiet disgust is recognisable on my face. I promised Father and Rhea both that I wouldn't be aggressive about trivial matters such as these. Clan Felis may be uncooperative friends, but they also make fiercer enemies.

Before our hands meet, a commotion from outside interrupts us and a familiar voice cuts through the hissing panthers guarding the door. Ashra barges in urgently and pulls me away from the cat.

"Pardon me from intruding, Lucius, but this meeting has to be terminated prematurely." She says quite bluntly, in a tone that tells us both that she isn't one to be argued with. "The issues between us still stand, but they will be taken up by a different member of our camp for an indefinite period of time."

"What?" I ask, bewildered by her sudden appearance and announcement. She merely shakes her head and dismisses me with a single hand gesture and then beckons me out of the door.

"Does this mean we get to keep the money?" Lucius calls after us as we leave, but I don't even get the chance to growl a negative response back at him.

Ashra merely tugs my elbow out of the tent and through the pair of snarling Felis guards, clearly offended by her previous lack of decorum when it came to visiting a leader as self-important as Lucius.

She takes off down the snowy path towards the entrance of the forest bridging the two nearby camps, discarding her clothes quickly to ensure a quick transformation. I follow suit, still completely confused by her behaviour. I duck in between the foliage just in time to watch her white coat spreading across stunted limbs, though she doesn't even turn her snout in my direction before launching herself further into the forest.

Struggling to get my shirt off, I call for her to wait but she doesn't listen. She merely plows on, completely engrossed in leading me back home. Our camps are only an hour apart just walking on foot, so I can't begin to imagine what awaits me at home if it warrants us transforming to get back quickly enough.

Digging my bare feet into the floor of muddy leaves, I begin the transformation. Considerably smaller in stature than I was moments before, it takes a few moments to get used to running on all fours. When I regain my balance, I move with such a velocity, it's like I'm flying.

Following Ashra's scent, my paws pound against the mountainous terrain at a speed I'd never be able to achieve while human. The trees grow sparser and the air becomes thinner as I take a shortcut just north of the Felis camp, leaping across the mountainside in order to catch up to the snowy wolf ahead of me.

Howling after her to explain what's going on, she chooses to ignore the details I wish to know.

"You've been summoned." She huffs when I'm finally close enough to hear her.

"By who?" I ask.

"Stop asking." She snaps. "You'll see, soon enough."

Across the entire journey home, she remains unusually silent and never once mentions anything relating to who has requested my immediate presence, or why. Surely, she would have mentioned if it was my father asking, so if not the Alpha, then who?

When we approach our camp, darkness is just starting to wash across the sky. It's eerily silent; usually you can hear their raucous laughter from a mile away, and it typically starts far earlier than twilight.

We both transform back once safely in the confines of our territory, in one of our fields used for farming just outside the central camp.

"I suggest you go and make yourself presentable." Ashra smirks, gesturing at my lack of clothing as she reaches for her own pile I assume she left for herself before coming to get me.

"You definitely had time to grab my clothes, too, you know." I reply, to which she only winks back with a mischievous grin before sauntering into the Main Hall.

As she opens the door, the tiniest sliver of light peeks out and bathes her in an orange hue. Strange; the fireplace is usually only lit on ceremonial occasions.

Curious, I make my way into the neighbouring hut in the hope that someone is home to explain what's going on, but no one is there. Ducking into Rhea and I's shared room, I grab the nearest clothes and put them on without much thought before heading out of the door and into the Hall.

When I enter, I bow my head respectfully to the guards either side of me and mutter a greeting. Under normal circumstances, I'd probably start a conversation, but the atmosphere is too unsettling for the harmless small talk we typically enjoy.

Looking around the room, the Hall is crowded with all of the camp elders packed in a tight circle and has been transformed accordingly. A small feast of sorts lines the table and I notice that my father has called for the good cutlery to be used, which is as rare as it is strange; we only ever set the table when visitors come or for celebrations. From the rafters of the ceiling, hanging plants spiral down pleasantly and fill the air with a floral perfume, which contrasts harshly with the variety of mounted animal heads covering the walls.

It's an odd scene to come home to, but the people seem cheerful enough. Those highest in the pack hierarchy sit rather formally on the wooden stools surrounding my father's seat - which I now notice is not occupied by him at all.

Ashra hovers a few steps below her grandmother, who appears to be in light conversation with a woman I've never seen before; a woman more deserving than my father of his throne.

In most respects, she appears as though she could fit into our camp quite comfortably without drawing much attention. If not for her age, I'd say she resembles Rhea in most ways, with her olive skin and thick black hair.

However, that's where the similarities stop. Each lock of hair is knotted into plaits atop her head and adorned with something woven out of twigs that comes close to a crown. She almost seems to be crafted from nature itself, with little clues from the forest anointing her clothes.

A single bird feather is wound into a delicate circle around her wrist and even her gown appears to be made out of leaves from every season, moving from a fresh green on her shoulder to a muddied brown at her feet. She wears Autumn like a belt and keeps what appears to be one such leaf on a chain around her neck, yet it is not her trail of colour that has me kneeling before her; it's her eyes.

Among each clan of Werekind, certain eye colours are more prevalent than others. Ours - Clan Lupa- are prone to a golden brown akin to honey, Felis favour luminous yellows or greens and so on and so forth. The woman in front of me possesses none of them. Her eyes are a silvery grey, like moonlight, which mean she can only be Misa; Clan Lupa's high priestess at the temple of Serena, worshiper of the moon.

With my face buried into the floor, I wait for her to instruct me to rise before speaking - not that I think I could say anything at this moment of time, of course. With the realisation of who she is, my thoughts begin to whir loudly in my mind as I wonder what could bring someone so important as her to our camp.

No one can unite the free people of Werekind completely - not even the Alphas - but Misa and the three other leaders of our race are the closest things we have to royalty. When I think about it, the mounted heads kind of make sense, now, even if the ceremonial items aren't the most tasteful of things to decorate our halls with.

"You are met well," She says finally in a lilting voice, "Akthsi cana."

I rise at the sound of the old language as she calls me 'Little Wolf'. A faint blush darkens my cheeks, feeling almost embarrassed of my youth, and I cut a sideways glance to my father, who merely nods once in response.

You know what to do. He seems to whisper across the space between us with a single look, which only does so much for my confidence. With a deep breath, I bring my eyes to Misa's weathered face and enter the realms of conversation.

"To what do we owe this honour?" I ask and bow my head respectfully towards the throne.

"You have been summoned to me by your elders, Little Wolf." She says in a matter-of-fact way and tilts her head curiously, her silvery eyes appraising me. "Each priestess has been tasked with searching our kind for someone suitable enough from each clan."

Almost bored of keeping a distance, she stands herself and the crowd of elders part to let her through.

"I've visited larger camps than this," she gestures around the cramped hall, "but there is a certain peace here that is absent from the more unruly of our kind. I was losing hope at one point; they were all too busy battling before me, trying to prove that they had been chosen by divine right, yet the decision was far more diplomatic here - unanimous, too." She gives me a pointed look and then shrugs her shoulders. "I was curious, so I summoned you myself. You'll do nicely, I think."

Though she speaks in a calm and even tone, it takes a while for my brain to catch up to the words she says. Not seeming to mind the brief moments of silence where I can't think of a reply, she merely smiles as if she's amused.

"What does this . . ." I trail off, looking for the right word.

"Task?" She offers.

"Yes, thank you." I pause to consider my sentence once more. "What does this task concern, if I might ask?"

"Everything." She replies instantly. "You and I, werekind, the humans . . . certainly all of the magical races."

At the bewildered look settling across my features, she pulls the locket with the dead leaf over her head and places it in my palm. When I first glanced at it, I'd thought it was just some ordinary autumnal leaf, shriveled up and seemingly burnt to a crisp. Upon closer inspection, it glows faintly around the edges with some old form of magic and I look up at Misa shortly after this revelation.

"The World Tree is dying, Little Wolf." She says sadly. "We need you to save it."

This important sliver of information only leaves me with a plethora of questions, but I can't find the words to voice a single one of them. The one weak thought I can manage is that it certainly explains the amount of failed harvests and dried up rivers we've been coming across lately.

After several amazed moments of silence, I am reminded of the other people in the room when my sister finally speaks up.

"He doesn't say much, Misa." She says. Rhea approaches and bows her head, not meaning to interrupt.

"That's just his way," My father's deep voice cuts through the air and I glance towards my family, grateful for the distraction. "I'm sure the Priestess will agree that it's natural that Rowen has been taken by surprise."

It's true. In all the ways I imagined today ending, this was not one of them. Of course, all throughout my life I have expected to earn some kind of renown or greatness in the future, in my own quiet way. I've been raised solely to contend for diplomatic leadership, so this is an opportunity I never expected to arise.

"Why have you chosen me for this task, Priestess?" I ask, glad to have finally managed to string a few coherent words together.

"I listened to the people, Little Wolf." She gestures to the community gathered around me. "They speak highly of you. There's a certain responsibility in life that we all have to others, but you seem to shoulder it better than others. More than I can think of would tear each other down just to get the chance of being a hero, but not you."

She steps a little closer and lifts the hand carrying her locket into the centre of my line of sight.

"I know of your feats already, even if you don't consider them heroic deeds. You are patient. You listen to others and negotiate with them to do what's best for the people around you." She says and keeps my focus on the dying leaf, limp in my hand. "We need more people like you in the world, Little Wolf, but that can only happen if we still have a good world worth protecting."

When she finishes, there's an astonished sort of silence hanging in the air which I'm not accustomed to. I think under different circumstances, the wolves around me might even be cheering me on at this point, but somehow that kind of behaviour doesn't seem too dignified during such an important visit.

Feeling a mixture of thrilling excitement, nausea and just the tiniest amount of smugness that I was selected to fill this pivotal role, I manage a reply.

"I'll do it. You have my word."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Margaret Cleo

I must've shivered myself awake. The land was getting colder, and I had two reasons for not wanting to build a fire.

1. I didn't need any uninvited company to think they were invited.

2. I was getting to the point in the cycle where fire scared me, and the beast was winning against the person inside me.

It was just as well that I was awake. I had been having a terrible dream, something about a human house and trying to escape, but being unable.

There was something so foreign and cold about regular human structures, I much preferred the old-fashioned dens my grandmother and mother inhabited.

I stopped. Put my hands to my head, growled. What were they doing now? I missed them, Collin and Adalise probably hated me.

But my grandmother Therese was dead.

How can you stop living when there is that much love in you? Fierce protection, fierce humor, fierce love, fierce everything. She was too ferocious for death, but she left and then there was no one to help me with the changes. My mother never changed... too human. Who would help my brother? How would he change, hunt, live without his legs?

Your fault. You're the evil in the family, not him. I could snarl at myself all I wanted, but my stomach would still growl, and I was still selfish enough to believe I needed to go on living so I could fix it. But how?

I stood, and wrapped my cloak around my shoulders.

All of my clothing had ties on it, so it could expand around our other forms without wasting all the fabric and warmth.

I managed to get rips in it whenever I ran to the forest, however.

Time to check the traps.

**************

Therese always said that a restless body would help ease the restless mind. I swear I've been moving ever since my first change, and my mind can only quiet when I am running so hard I need to focus on breathing, on not slipping.

She taught me to tie intricate knots, to weave and sneak and wait for little things to make their way into the traps we set, and to cook and roast them and change their pelts into something worthwhile. I think of her weathered tanned paws- no hands! on mine. Is this how every were thinks, close to the change?

My damn head is the problem here.

We had been the best trappers in our area, and when we visited at market, my mother had always been able to change the pelts into beautiful trinkets, clothes, and had been able to convince everything within shouting distance how beautiful they were with her delicate little frame.

Market time was the only time she was brave.

That was probably where my father had first set eyes on her.

When I have jogged the mile to my first trap, ( I wasn't willing to risk my hiding place being found by my handiwork) I notice a little rat has gotten into one that I set up for a larger raccoon that I've seen marks of. I growl and set to collecting the thing.

Waste of a good night's work.

In a creek nearby I find some silvery fish caught in my basket.

Good, they will add some fat to my diet.

I need as much as I can get. Without a whole family working to gather food, it is hard to maintain a weight that is comfortable.

When I am hungry, the moon sings it's siren's song more mournfully, and everything grinds together- my bones, my teeth, my thoughts.

There is a snap of a twig being broken. I sniff the air, but the wetness of the river dampens the air around me.

I will just have to be wary as I go back, not to lead anyone to my little temporary den.

I hit up two of my other traps, but decide if there is someone following me:

1. they are good enough not to be detected by my Golawere senses

2. I don't want to show them the locations of my only meal sources. It's getting too late in the year for berries to be a reasonable meal.

I run in the least direct path I can, climbing a tree for a while and just sitting and watching.

There is no good way to leave this tracker behind.

I have to risk it.

*********

The fish are crisping in the fire when I hear the next twig snap. The rat has already been eaten at least, and it's little pelt can add to my collection, but it is curing right now, smelly as that is. I made the fire half a mile from my camp, but I had to go there to get supplies...so it looks as though I'll have to be moving tonight.

A familiar scent burns my tummy, making me shrivel and dread. My father. Bulwark Champ. Therese used to call him "Bully, just like his father." She would tell me my mother, brother and I were the only good things to come from him.

That was true for sure.

I am shaking and growling, and clenching my teeth. The Golawere in me shivers so close to the surface, and I clamp it down and breathe.

'Father, welcome to my humble abode. Please, join in my repast." The snake simpers in a coarse mimicry of me. I snarl again, I can't help it.

"That would be the proper way, girl."

"What about us is proper?" I almost said 'you' but my sense of self-preservation still exists.

"You've done something bad, haven't you?" His eyes flash and his teeth glimmer as his lips reveal them with each taunting word. I swallow, too angry to push away the memory.

None of us knew it was coming, that it was my time to change. It was early yet, and the moon was too strong. I went to bed with a stomachache, not knowing how to recognize the unfamiliar pain of the change.

That's what they explained later, I lashed out as a wounded animal because the change hurt the parts of me that were human- more like my mother, who is only half were.

They tried to keep me in the room, and Collin, he was holding the door, because when it opened, he flew across the room.

He lay there crumpled, not screaming. That's how you knew it was bad.

My mother running towards him, telling me to go find Therese in the woods.

I didn't have sense enough to know what I'd done, but just enough to know to find my grandmother, she could help me.

I hadn't forgotten that my father didn't believe in passing his glorious lineage on to anything other than a male heir.

Collin was the only child he considered his, and once he had been born, it was like he forgot I had existed.

Eventually you have to stop trying to please a parent who doesn't care about anything other than power.

But he obviously wanted to use me for something.

"Yes. An accident." He had to know this, but he would play it out and on and I would take it.

He wouldn't hurt me, just as Therese taught me, no one could have the power to....

My face smashed in the dirt, faster than I knew he could move.

His little henchmen appeared out of the trees. Not little, it was out of courtesy that he held my nose into the ground, and they didn't snap me in half.

I felt my body squirm and he pushed me further, I heard a crack, and I don't think my nose was broken, but I could feel blood seeping.

I let a small noise escape, I couldn't help it.

Too bad anything I did could be used against me.

Bully let me up.

"You have disgraced me. I should kill you." He cocked his head slowly, sadistic bastard. Each word was extended, a pleasure to threaten his own offspring.

" but your grandmother assured me of your power- your strength."

"Was this before you killed her?"

"I was the last to see her alive." His claw-like fingers dug into my cheeks. His hand enveloped my entire face.

"Never forget your place with me again." The words were low and growling, hackle-raising. It almost seemed as though he was upset to be blamed for the death of his mother, but not quite. Acting cold blooded can make you so, I knew that.

"Yessir." I forced out around my squished face.

This could almost be comical. Except it was so definitely not.

My tone was probably not respectful, but my fear was gone in the anger that followed. The air hissed out of me, past my clenched teeth, my anger bubbling, frothing.

"Just like her father." Bully frowned at his second in command- they were the leaders- of a sort. Frowlen chuckled, the only one brave enough to tempt my father's anger- and the only one he liked enough to allow it. I ran my tongue over my teeth.

Blood coated them, disgusting.

Worse yet, the sun was setting, and it was close to a full moon. All our jaws would be snapping with stiff anticipation.

Bully nodded at Frowlen, and I watched their exchange carefully. They were ruthless, but they would not have taken the time to find me without a damn good reason.

"What can I do for you Gola?" I spat out. Frowlen chuckled again.

Damn his aging face- it used to be handsome, him and Bully used to rule the she-weres for different reasons. Now they couldn't hide their natures behind their handsome faces. I smiled sweetly, feeling blood drip down my throat.

"Your redemption." Bully smiled at his second's words. I stiffened.

"You know of the ailing ground. The sky thickens with infertile dust. The great mother wolf has told us of a way to fix it."

Mother wolf. My mother always prayed to her, and yet we stayed hidden from the men that claimed to be her mouthpieces.

"How is that?" I look between them, staring at nothing now.

Why ask a young girl weregola? Why not your most experienced, unless you want them to fail or... either way, it means I am expendable.

But I will have to do it or I will be chased south on the next full moon, to the bad lands, or where Things reside.

"The World Tree."

"Of legends?" doubt fills my voice.

"The same, it is dying, and we must save it. You will go, and in response to saving it, there are those who will fix your mistakes. Who will save your brother, or -don't go, and you know your fate."

There was no real decision to be made.

I would do anything for Collin, anything to make up for what I'd done.

"Yes. I will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwenfor Sybil Meilyr

A new day was dawning in Aimsir and Clan Ursa. The sky was like a swirl of pink and blue cotton candy with a lemon slowly rising to greet everyone. Gwenfor and the smiths of Clan Ursa were the only awake. The smell of smoke and iron melting filled the air; Gwenfor was to rouse up the rest of Clan Ursa. "Get your ass up!" The people in the tent soared up at Gwenfor's roaring.

"What the hell Gwenfor it's five in the morning."

"I don't give a shit about what time it is, get up!" Gwenfor left the tent of swearing Ursas and headed to the next tent. Around six in the morning everyone was up and doing their normal training.

Gwenfor was the next person in line to fight the winner of a brawl, the battle just finished with Klaus, the son of the leader of Clan Ursa, defeating Bryn, a ruthless but strong man. Bryn seemed upset his face was wrinkled up in a snarl; blood and sweat were rolling down his face. Nasty bruises were forming around his chin and cheeks; he had a busted lip and a cut on the corner of his left eye.

He didn't say a word; instead he spoke with his movements, which was stomping out the arena. Klaus looked at Gwenfor and gave a humorless laugh. Gwenfor's rose pink lips formed a smile, she smelled fear in him. She jumped in the arena and held up her arms in a ready stance.

Klaus jumped around a mocking smile on his face. "I'm going to beat your fucking face in." His voice may have sounded strong, but towards the end he let out a shaky breath.

"Do you really believe that Klaus?" Gwenfor voice was slowly creeping into his head, like an animal crawling up to its prey. He shook his head as if trying to make her voice escape. He punched at Gwenfor, getting her in the cheek. It stung at first, but quickly went numb. Gwenfor ducked his next punch, now was the time he wasn't paying attention. Gwenfor punched him the nose, dazed; Gwenfor punched him in chin knocking him to the ground.

Two seconds he was out, coming back up his face was covered with blood. A giant bruise the color of sunlight yellow and grotesque green was now forming on chin with his nose that was draining large doses of scarlet. He looked like a train wreck, he tried to punch Gwenfor but he would always fall when he punched.

"Someone get him out of the arena!" A girl, with pixie cut copper hair and hazelnut eyes, came into the arena wrapping her arm around Klaus and brought him to a tent. Everybody in line didn't seem surprised of this happening, most people that do the brawl for their training usually get knocked out.

Gwenfor wiped her blood stained knuckles on her t-shirt, looking at the others as if waiting for one to volunteer. Instead it the leader of Clan Ursa was looking at her with a smile that looked as if proud of her. "I think that's good for the day, Gwenfor." The leader of Clan Ursa was a forty year old man named Marshal; he was the father of five, one of the five was Klaus. "Gwenfor, please, follow me." Gwenfor did as not just a leader but also a friend told her. They walked to his tent; it was like most others except with his sleeping bag had a pillow.

"As my second ranking Ursa, you help me in so many ways." Marshal looked Gwenfor gratefully, "I brought you here to talk to about the world tree." Marshal rubbed his face his fingers running along a scar on his eye, Gwenfor remembers how the scar came to be. Marshal was scratched by one of his own kind, except the person was in Clan Felis, the cheetah managed to just scratch his right eye making him blind in one eye. Gwenfor looked away from the scar trying to listen to her leader. "It's dying," he said the words in a disheartened tone, "I want you to go on a mission to find the tree, save the world. Make the world better in general." Gwenfor was flabbergasted, this was an honor to do such a quest.

"But sir why me?" she had to ask the question.

"Because," He smiled showing his corn yellow teeth. "You are the most strongest and loyal Ursa I ever met." A smile formed on Gwenfor's lips.

"I'll do this mission, I'll go through all the pain there is to find the tree and save it." Marshal's smile widened.

"I knew you would say that." Marshal turned his back on Gwenfor for only a few seconds to turn back to her to hand her a packbag, it reminded Gwenfor of wrinkled brown leather with minor holes showing that it has been used before. "Go pack up, bring water, food, and a weapon, it could be a dangerous journey." Gwenfor nodded about to head back to her tent before Marshal called her back.

"I want you to take this." He pulled out a golden chain that had a golden bear with a 'U' embodied to its chest.

"Thank you sir," The coolness of the metal tingled as it touched Gwenfor's skin she wrapped her hand in a fist keeping it safe. "I promise I'll come back." Marshal nodded his head looking as if praying she'll come back. That was the last time she ever saw her leader.

She didn't pack much, four medium bottles filled with water, five t-shirts and cargo pants, and a hunting knife to help her hunt.

Gwenfor was now at the edge of the Clan Ursa, trees led around the perimeter of the clan as if what were beyond the Clan were waste lands. Looking back Gwenfor felt this may be the last time she'll ever be in Clan Ursa. Because outside the Clan anything could happen she could get lost or killed. No, Gwenfor told herself because no matter what she will find the tree and save the world.

Staring into the trees of the Clan, Gwenfor took five steps and began her mission to the tree.