The clearing pulsed with expectation.Dozens of villagers pressed close, their faces glowing in the light of the Awakening Stones arranged in a half-circle. Each stone was carved with runes shaped after the tribe's totem, the stag, and every child who stepped forward knew that a drop of their blood would decide whether they stood among the blessed or were forgotten as ordinary.
The ceremony had unfolded with an uneven rhythm. Some youths drew out pale, wavering stag-shadows that barely stretched to their shoulders, while others revealed stronger forms that earned murmurs of approval. Each awakening was measured by the brightness of the runes and the size of the beastly shadow looming behind the child. The villagers clapped politely, though everyone understood who would be remembered and who would not.
When Dagan's turn came, the murmurs grew louder. He cut his palm with a proud flourish, letting his blood drip onto the stone carved for him. At once the runes flared, brighter than any had yet seen, and a deep vibration thrummed through the air.
From behind him, a shadow burst forth. It was no noble stag of the forest. The antlers curled like jagged spines, its eyes shone with crimson fire, and its bulk carried an oppressive hunger that made even seasoned hunters shift uneasily. The ground trembled as though hooves had struck it in truth.
A cry rose from a child, quickly muffled by his mother's hand. Older villagers exchanged uneasy glances. The beast was mighty, but there was something unnatural in its presence, a distortion that felt closer to a predator's hunger than a guardian spirit.
The chief stepped forward, his voice swelling with triumph. "Behold the gift of the spirits. My son carries the future of the Stagheart Tribe. Strength such as this will raise us above all others." His smile stretched wide, his pride feeding on the silence around him.
Not everyone was convinced. Elder Haron did not cheer. His eyes stayed fixed on the twisting stag-shadow. Leaning toward his daughter Lyra, who had only just awakened a pure stag that left the clearing in awe, he spoke quietly. "I have seen records of such things. Shadows warped by power until the line between man and beast was broken."
Lyra's voice was tight. "You mean this is not a blessing?"
Haron's silence answered her more loudly than words.
Near the back, an old hunter whispered to no one in particular, "The first ancestors warned of such strength. Those who bore it stripped the forests bare and left only hunger in their wake." His words faded as quickly as they were spoken, for fear of being overheard.
Kael watched, his expression carefully still. While the villagers hesitated between awe and fear, he studied the shadow for its weaknesses. It was strong, yet its hunger was insatiable, its form restless. A force that could not balance itself would always carry within it the seed of collapse.
When the villagers finally broke their silence, they did so in cheers. One by one, voices rose until the entire clearing shook with praise. Some cheered because they believed, others because they feared being the only one who did not. The chief's face glowed with pride, while Dagan turned to the crowd with a sneer already tugging at his lips.
The remaining children stepped forward in turn, one after another. Some showed faint stags, others revealed decent ones that would grow stronger in time. Then Kael moved toward the stones. He waited for the one prepared for him, though he already sensed hesitation ripple through the elders.
The pause stretched, whispers breaking out in the crowd. Dagan's sneer sharpened into words. "Do we really need to waste a stone on him? He carries no Stagheart blood. What spirit would ever answer?"
A few villagers murmured agreement. Others looked down, unwilling to meet Kael's eyes. The chief did not speak, yet his silence weighed more than any decree. No stone was offered.
Kael stood without flinching, his gaze steady though his chest burned with anger. To the villagers he appeared calm, as though he accepted their judgment. Inside, his thoughts moved like water over stone. He had expected resistance, though not this open denial. The chief's pride and Dagan's arrogance had given him an unexpected gift: freedom from their stage. He could awaken beyond their sight, and in doing so, keep his strength hidden until the right moment.
Dagan's voice cut through the whispers again, this time laced with open mockery. "See? Even the spirits know he is nothing." Laughter spread in pockets of the crowd, though many only forced the sound through tight lips.
Kael lowered his gaze, allowing them to believe they had shamed him. Yet behind the mask of calm submission, his mind was already weaving plans. He had learned who would stand against him, who would stay silent, and who could be turned. The denial stung, but it also clarified the field before him.
The ceremony was meant to unite the tribe in strength, yet it had left fractures running through every heart. One boy had been exalted, another cast aside, and in that contrast the future of the Stagheart Tribe shifted.
Kael stepped back into the crowd, his expression unreadable. He would awaken, stone or no stone.