Separation

The ceremony had ended, but the weight of the elders’ words still hung in the air like dense mist. The gate to the jungle had been opened. Beyond it, only the immense, living, silent forest.

The young ones looked at each other, some in silence, others whispering anxiously, while deciding who they would follow for their Days of the Beast. There were no rules. Just one choice: to trust… or try to survive alone.

One of the ceremonial drums sounded, carried by a blind Goliath, struck three times — muffled, deep, like the beating of the earth’s own heart.

Groups were forming almost instinctively: childhood friends, allies through training, secret pacts made under moonlight or pure convenience.

But Solenne, standing beside the massive wooden door, simply crossed her arms and watched it all like someone waiting for a bad joke to end.

— Seriously, there are people there who look like they'll die just from carrying their own sleeping bag — she commented, in an almost amused tone.

Clare, beside her, let out a loud laugh.

— At least they’ll die in style. You could hang the body to scare off animals.

Kaelos was juggling three little stones he had found on the ground, trying not to look nervous — and failing.

— Hey, if I manage ten spins with this, does it mean the forest accepts me?

Nayra, sitting beside a tree, slowly raised her eyes.

— It means you're sweating more than during the training sessions in Thessalia.

— It's the charm, Nay. It's my secret plan to scare off predators — he shot back, laughing.

Elizabeth, who was discreetly observing everyone around, spoke gently:

— Some of these people are going to try to sabotage us. The forest doesn’t only test the body… it tests the heart.

Lorian, standing with arms crossed, responded in a low but firm voice:

— Then we better walk with those who won’t stab us in the back.

Solenne smiled and pointed her thumb behind her, toward the forest.

— Great. Time to die pretty, then. Let’s go, my beautiful bastards.

Without saying goodbye to anyone else, the six walked together. When they crossed the gate, they didn’t look back. Some laughed. Others were silent. But they all knew — that moment was a seal.

They were a strange, unlikely group. But solid.

Solenne led the way, clearing the path with confidence and sarcasm.

Clare walked beside her, joking about everything she saw — a crooked branch, a strange sound, even the smell of the earth.

Nayra, slightly behind, kept her eyes alert to every shadow, every detail.

Kaelos tried to lift everyone’s spirits, even as the tension grew.

Lorian was the silent wall guarding the rear, watching the sides with eyes that always seemed on the verge of exploding with fury.

Elizabeth walked in the center, always in balance, as if her simple presence held the others in peace.

When the sun began to set, and the sound of the other groups could no longer be heard, Clare broke the silence:

— I bet a kiss from Solenne that the first bodies will show up in three days.

Solenne didn’t even turn her head.

— If they’re from our group, then you kiss the corpse.

Kaelos laughed, but the laughter vanished as quickly as it came. Deep down, they all knew: no matter how much they joked, laughed or teased. Time had already started to run.

The full moon will come twelve times. After that, the eclipse will fall like a sentence.

The Elders said the forest bent itself to test each one differently.

And the jungle, which marks all, was already watching the six — ready to carve into them the stories the elders would one day read.