The flight to the pool felt like the longest journey Thirty-Four had ever undertaken. His heart pounded twice as fast as Angel's wings, threatening to leap from his chest and soar on wings of its own to reach their incredible destination.

Below, the sun sparkled on the treetops, creating twinkling emerald lights that adorned the earthly beauty of the thin branches. Angel curved, and the forest cascaded into the valley he'd gazed out over just last night. Every single yellow flower amongst the sea of grass glowed as if they were sunlight themselves. The whole world seemed twice as bright today, rejoicing the long-awaited day when his Pelt finally came.

He could feel his bones tingling with a huge apprehension, as if even the moon goddess was holding her breath. Or maybe it was just the nausea from being up this high.

As they passed the familiar hill, their flight jolted slightly in the wind, and he decided it was definitely nausea. Hurriedly, he raised his head, pricking up his ears to catch the breeze as it rushed by. There was no way he was ruining this life-changing moment by vomiting all over his favourite part of the woods.

Instead, he surveyed the crystal-clear sky. Even the clouds had dispersed to make way for his passage. The rising sun caressed his exposed back, and for once he welcomed the harsh warmth.

Beside him, Lexi shifted, shoving him further towards Angel's right wing. "Stop spreading out so much. I'd really rather not fall from the sky for a second time in two days."

"Sorry," he said, ducking to allow their paws to overlap. If he had been the same size as Lexi, there wouldn't have been enough room for them both to squeeze on. But his undersized nature allowed it.

Not for much longer. I'm bound to have a growth spurt soon, if my Pelt doesn't trigger it instantly.

That's right. My Pelt.

They glanced at each other, eyes glittering with equal enthusiasm. Thirty-Four opened his snout to say something else - most likely a rapid string of merging words about how excited he was - when they suddenly tipped forwards, making his stomach lurch dangerously. Snapping his jaw shut, he swallowed forcefully, determined to hold back the foul taste that surged in the back of his throat. Lexi linked her paw with his.

Locking his claws into Angel's fur, he peered down, expecting to see the plaza looming closer. Instead, they glided through the canopy of a cluster of trees, touching down softly in long grass. His grip loosened, and he half-climbed, half-fell from the Airewylf's back, with Lexi following. The earth had never felt so welcoming.

"Why have we landed here?" he asked, blinking hard to stop the world from spinning.

Angel settled her wings, retreating further into the forest. "The Twilytra are a secret," she said, her eyes fixed on the path just past the treeline. "If the Wylfire found us, we'd be locked up, for a long time."

Tilting his head, Thirty-Four frowned. "Why? You're not doing anything wrong."

Before Angel could answer, Lexi stepped forward. "It does make sense. Dawn isn't this town's prophet, so by making predictions about the war she would probably be accused of spreading rumours. Disrespecting the goddess, all that." She flicked her tail uneasily. "And all of you would be arrested for following her. In fact," she added, looking thoughtful, "I recognise the name Twilytra. Isn't that the group General Dusk set up after the war?"

Angel blinked a few times, looking a little overwhelmed by Lexi's onslaught of information. "Uh, yes," she replied, nodding slowly. "Dusk is Dawn's ancestor. Her family have kept the group running."

On any normal day, Thirty-Four would have let them keep talking. He knew how much Lexi loved history, and facts - he sometimes found them interesting, too. But this wasn't a normal day. This was the best day of his entire life, and he wasn't going to waste it talking about the past.

"Can we not do this now?" he protested, bouncing on his paws to stand between them. "You can talk later, after I've got my Pelt." The very words sent a buzz of excitement shooting through his veins.

With a nod, Angel spread her wings again. "Meet us here after your ceremony, pup." A ghost of a smile tugged at her snout. "Good luck."

As she disappeared into the sky, Lexi nudged his shoulder. "Sorry," she said, ducking her head slightly. "Let's get you your Pelt."

The two pups shot out of the undergrowth, sprinting up the path towards the plaza. An unsaid race began between them, and Thirty-Four ran harder than he ever had before. This was worth it.

When they finally staggered to a halt, him breathlessly murmuring, "I win," the smooth rock of the plaza was at their paws.

A few wolves milled about, talking in groups, or sitting alone as they thought. Thirty-Four barely paid them a glance as he ran again, adrenaline lending his limbs energy. He leapt up the platform right in the middle of the plaza. At its centre, a pool of water shimmered, glowing with every colour under the sun. The Chroma Pool. Many a day he'd spent gazing at its magical waters, longing for the moment when he would finally transform beneath the surface. That moment grew closer with every passing second.

Beside it, a purple wolf sat. Tinges of pale grey mingled with the lilac colour of his fur, betraying his age. As always, his eyes were closed, and his snout was upturned towards the heavens.

"Prophet Afzal," he exclaimed, trying and failing to greet the Mystwylf calmly. Opening his eyes, Afzal peered down at him curiously. "I've got a... I mean, can you..."

"He's got his Peltmark," Lexi interrupted, jogging up behind. "Apologies, prophet. He's quite excited."

"I can tell," Afzal muttered. He rose slowly. "Numeryc?"

"Thirty-Four," she supplied.

"And I gather you're his sister?"

Lexi's eyes widened. She looked rather taken aback. "No! Just... just his friend."

The prophet sighed. "I cannot perform a ceremony without an older family member present. Let me know when they arrive." With the final word, he returned to his previous position.

Pawing the ground, Thirty-Four glanced down. But Lexi forced his snout up again, jabbing him with her claw "You're not letting them ruin this," she told him. He nodded, meeting her determined gaze. "Look, you stay here. I'll go get them."

"No need," called a voice. Hardening his gaze, he turned around.

The speaker stood just beside the platform. For once, searing flames didn't decorate his orange-brown fur. Even the fire in his eyes was somewhat dulled.

"Hello, father," Thirty-Four said with a nod. His eyes sparkled in triumph. "Seems you were wrong."

His father grunted. "We'll see." He jerked his snout towards Afzal, who had risen at the sound of the Flamewylf's voice. "Greetings, prophet. He's mine."

"Ah," Afzal said carefully. He added something inaudible under his breath, before approaching the edge of the platform. "Residents of Borealton! The Pelt ceremony of Thirty-Four will be taking place in one minute." With a flick of his tail, he turned to Thirty-Four's father and began the routine questions.

As they talked, Thirty-Four gazed over the plaza. Most wolves were ending their conversations, and more and more eyes rested on him. It was nervewracking, but also incredible. Lifting his head high, he met their sceptical gazes. I'll prove you all wrong. Everyone will see how powerful I can really be.

At a word from Afzal, Lexi left the platform to join the small gathering below. They exchanged one final glance of pure excitement. Good luck, she mouthed.

The prophet appeared beside him. A single nod began the ceremony. "State your numeryc and moon-sign, for all the gods to hear."

"Thirty-Four, Sylfen," he replied, his voice filling the sudden silence. It always felt impressive to announce himself as a Sylfen - a wolf born of the full moon - even if it meant nothing nowadays.

"Call to them with your request."

He took a deep breath, praying that he would remember the words correctly. I can do this. "Luna, I thank you for blessing me with this Peltmark. I ask your heavenly daughters now to grant your promise."

With a nod of approval, Afzal continued. "From Kolour, you will recieve the gift of a Pelt, and from that Pelt may your power be drawn in years to come. From Bhavisha, you will recieve the gift of a name, which will determine your fate, and your destiny."

My name. The words flew through his mind like a shooting star. In his dazed exhileration, the prospect had escaped his thoughts.

Even the idea of destiny didn't seem so scary now. After all, with a Pelt, anything was possible.

"Now, submerge yourself in the Chroma Pool, and from its waters you will gain your gifts," Afzal recited, locking eyes with Thirty-Four. His whole body quivered with eager anticipation as he stepped sideways, the cool water lapping at his paws.

Automatically, he took a deep breath before sinking into the pool, but soon found it was unnessessary. The wet feeling that dragged at his fur subsided within seconds, until it was impossible to tell that he was underwater. His limbs felt suspended, frozen in place, as the dancing void encircled his whole body. Bubbling streams swished through his fur, letting it drift freely. It was an eternal emptiness, a place of nothing, yet so full of colour.

It was those colours that mesmerised him as he floated in wait. Greens and yellows and blues and browns, all swirling amongst each other, blending and flowing as one. He gazed at each, astounded, wondering which would be chosen as his own.

He recalled his birthday, six moons ago. Lexi had gotten him the most incredible present. But he remembered begging her not to tell him what it was, only to show him, because the surprise was what made it so amazing.

So, with that moment lingering in his mind, he closed his eyes. Any second now, one of the nine colours would spread across the entire pool, engulfing the others and leaking into his fur to dye it forever. He didn't want to see that. When he saw his Pelt for the first time, he wanted it to be when he looked down and saw it covering his paws.

A strange tingling pulled at his skin. He fought back the urge to squeal his pure joy. It was happening.

All of a sudden, the stillness of the void left him, and he felt the compressing feeling of being transported from one place to another. His eyes snapped open to gaze across at the plaza. There seemed to be more wolves than there had been before.

They all looked terrified.

Thirty-Four swished his tail, as if to say nothing to fear! Just me! The terror didn't fade. Was his new Pelt really that fearsome?

With every passing second, it grew more distressful. Hurriedly, he searched for Lexi. The matching horror etched out in her hazel eyes sent cold claws piercing his heart.

Please tell me this is some sort of massive practical joke, he thought to himself. They're just pretending, right? My Pelt is fine. He wavered, debating whether to look down yet, but instead glanced over at Afzal.

The prophet had paled even more than usual. As he met Thirty-Four's eyes, he staggered backwards, his snout opening soundlessly.

"Uh, prophet?" he said, dipping his head politely. "Is everything ok?"

The only response he recieved was a slow shake of the head.

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath. Just look down, Thirty-Four. Maybe then you'll understand.

After a moment, he looked down.

And then he understood.

His throat constricted. His jaw fell open. For a moment that felt like eternity, he stared at his paws, as a terror of his own flowed into his heart. He let out a choking sob.

Maybe his father had been right. He was nothing but a failure.

He turned and fled into the trees.