Chapter one - Norvia be with us

I stood alone in the dark chapel, watching as the light filtering through the dirty stained glass slowly became a slit that fell across my face. Dust bloomed around my feet as I shifted my tail, flattening my ears and fixing my eyes onto Novia's bust that sat in front of me on a carved stone pedestal. The orange stripe of light bounced off of my fur and onto her face, revealing the pores in the stone and making her marble eyes shine as if they were alive.

By the time the light had faded completely, my stomach growled in hunger but I didn't dare move to the heavy oak door that shut me in. I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head, then rested my hands on the triangular button that held the fabric over my shoulders, listening as rain began to trickle down the roof of the stone chapel. Cold air began to seep through the stone bricks and my breath hung in the air in front of me, but I refused the urge to move and continued muttering my silent prayers.

A burst of wind erupted from the door behind me and I turned around to see the warm light of the lantern held a loft by one of my fellows, though I could not tell who. They wore a sash around their chest containing a child, still and sleeping, its small chest rising and falling to the sound of soft breathing.

My fellow raised their hand and beckoned for me to follow and I obeyed after stooping to pick up a large jar. We padded out of the chapel and locked the heavy oak doors behind us, then descended down an old cobbled road into the valley below the mountainside. By now the rain was thick and obscured the sparse groves of Aspen that dotted the grasslands we descended into. However, Norvia seemed to be with us that night as the child didn't start crying to complain of the chill bite of the wind.

I found myself holding my breath as we splashed through puddles of mud and clambered over fallen trees that became more frequent as we drew closer to the lake of Aspen valley. Though we did not utter even a word to one another, I knew that me and my fellow were both thinking the same thing.

Like any offering night, the valley was silent, as if every beast in the shadows were watching, baiting their breath just as I did and waiting for the child to cry. But as we pressed on, it did no such thing and the rain remained the only sound louder than our paws on the muddy path into the grove that surrounded the lake of the valley. Even the brooks, which babbled at full capacity, seemed to be keeping down their noise, listening just as we were.

At long last, we reached the stony shore of the lake, our view of the old castle obscured by the torrential rain. I brushed my wet mane behind my horns and back under my hood to ease up my visibility as we stumbled down to the lapping waves below. Both soaked down to our skin, we paused, ankle deep into the lake, bending our heads in a silent prayer.

My fellow knelt down and took off their sash, floating the child on the surface of the lake and pushing it out into the water. But something was wrong. I narrowed my eyes against the wind, trying to see any sign of distress from the child, though it slept on as if held in the warm arms of its mother. However, it continued to bob along the surface of the waves to the island in the center. There was no reason to intervene.

Until there was.

Thunder roared through the valley and the child began to sink as a stone would. The large glass jar in my hands fell to the ground and smashed. I gasped and threw myself into the water, diving under the waves to catch it and lift it back into open air. My fellow followed close behind, shouting words of encouragement drowned out by the storm. Now, the child was crying, though Norvia had seemed to grace us and it seemed to only be in shock, not having inhaled much or any lake water.

Though I could stand on the floor of the lake, I passed the child onto the arms of the other, who ran back to the shore to check on the well-being of the child and calm it. I grabbed the sash and wrapped it around my own neck, then splashed after my friend. "Run!" I yelled, bounding out of the lake and sprinting back down the path, the sound of thunder chasing me home, to the monastery.

Clueless as to whether my fellow was following me or if the child was still with us, I stumbled and pressed on, frightened to look behind me. I had no idea what happened at the lake. We had done everything right, hadn't we? That was the second offering to not go according to plan, though I was sure that this time it was not a sign of Norvia's goodness. Was she playing with us? Or perhaps one of the other gods had something to do with it. Either way, it couldn't be good.

Morning dawned bright the next morning. I opened my eyes and blinked in the glare of the sun filtering in through the walls of the hospital wing. I sat up, clutching my head and taking in the room. Hung up on the frame of my stiff pelt-bed was the red sash I had retrieved from the lake, now dry along with my shirt and robe. On the pelt-bed next to me was my fellow, his mane and face now revealed in the bright daylight. He looked as tired as I felt, no longer having the child with him and fast asleep. 

"Fable?" I asked, finding my voice to be quiet as I attempted not to disturb him if he was asleep as he so appeared to be.

Fable's dark blue eyes flickered open and he sat up, as dazed and confused as I. His gaze met mine and I could see the thoughts racing through his mind. "Ocity? Where's the child?" Fable asked, realizing the absence of the small creature placed in his care.

"I... don't know," I admitted, frowning and flattening my ears. "You got him back, correct?"

"Yes. I remember reaching the bottom of the mountain with the child, although after that my memory fails me," Fable explained, resting his hand on his chin in thought.

"The other fellows must have taken care of it then," I hoped, not wanting to think what else could have befallen it when Fable was out. "I bet it's in the west side of the children's wing being fed and rested." Perhaps I was just trying to convince myself, but I still wouldn't dare to check just yet.

"Yeah," Fable muttered, laying back down and staring at the ceiling.

I swung my legs out of bed, taking a moment to stare out of the open windows at the aspen leaves outside. Laughter floated in through the raised windows and the air smelled of fresh after-rain and flowers. I soaked in the sunlight streaming into the hospital wing, brushing mud and twigs out of my mane until I felt presentable.

As I stood, Fable glanced over at me. "Are you leaving?" He asked, sitting up once more.

"I'm going to take a bath, then I'll go talk to the Elders about what happened," I sighed, putting my shirt back on and folding up the sash and robe. "But I've got to return the sash first. Are you going to stay here?"

Fable considered me for a moment, "I suppose I'll come with you," the pale blue Drau decided, standing up and stretching.

"Ocity!" An angry voice barked from the open door. "Come with me, Drau, I need a word!"

I turned to see my silver-furred friend. His long hair was pulled back in messy knot and he looked like he had lost sleep. The Ylvi's stormy grey eyes were narrowed and bloodshot, looking nothing like the well-put together creature I knew so well. "A'teasa? Are you alright?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion, stepping over to him.

A'teasa grabbed my upper arm and pulled me outside, into a secluded corner of the courtyard. "Look what you've done-" he hissed, pointing out into the valley below the mountainside that the monetary sat upon.  I only saw the usual view of the serene view of grassland and groves stretching for miles under tall, snowy mountains. "Don't you see it?" he demanded.

I blinked, confused. "See what? Thank Norvia, everything looks normal to me," I said, trying to see anything out of place. Sure, I supposed the streams were a little easier to see glinting in the sunlight, but that was expected after so much rain.

The Ylvi sighed and pressed his thumb against his forehead, tail lashing. "Of course, you don't, I'm being stupid," he muttered. "But you shouldn't have gone. Bad things are going to happen. I can't believe you would put us at risk like that," he said, voice frantic.

"I'm... sorry?" I mumbled, trying to understand what he was saying. "But what was I supposed to do? The Elders asked for someone to go in your place- but everyone seemed so busy I thought I'd step up for once," I explained.

A'teasa bit his lip for a moment, fixing his stormy grey eyes on mine. "Ocity, didn't you listen when the Elders told you that you couldn't do an offering? They were going to find you a different rite of passage, surely you knew that," he reasoned.

"Well, yes, but I didn't know the next time we'd have good enough weather for that," I mumbled, feeling sheepish and stupid. Of course I'd been told not to go. But the anonymity of it all made it much too easy for anyone to go. "Plus, what if one of the younger ones went instead? They wouldn't be ready for that sort of trip," I pointed out, trying not to come off as defensive.

"They would've been better than you, that's for sure. You messed it all up!" A'teasa snapped back.

"Me? What did I do? I followed all the rules- I checked in the library last morning. I wore the right robes, practiced the right prayers- what more could I have done? How do you know it wasn't another god's interference that caused it to go wrong?" I asked, flattening my ears, giving up all pretense of trying not to be defensive.

"You were told not to go on an offering, but you still did. That's how it's your fault," A'teasa growled. "Now you've done it. I can see it out there. There are new beasts and creatures brought into this world because of your actions," he said, gesturing at the groves below.

I scoffed and shook my head. "No, A'teasa, you're the one being erratic. That half-baked magic of yours is playing tricks on you or you're lying. Either way, this is not the time to be spreading falsehoods," I reprimanded. "If you continue like this, I'll bring it up to the elders, I really will. That's a promise."

Having run out of words, A'teasa just glared up at me. "This isn't over," he muttered, turning away and stalking off.

"Good riddance," I whispered, clenching my jaw tight.

"You alright?" Fable asked, approaching from behind.

"Yeah, fine," I lied. I needed to stop worrying about what had happened. I must have just been a fluke. Like I'd said, maybe another god had interfered, but I was sure it wasn't anything Norvia couldn't sort out. She didn't need the helps of mortals like me and A'teasa. Especially A'teasa. To think I considered that creature a friend.

"Uh, alright," Fable said, sounding unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Come on, let's go wash off and talk to the Elders about what happened last night," I said, punching my fist into the palm of my other hand in determination. The Elders would be on my side and smooth everything out like they always did, right?