Elara's POV
Red fur girl collapsed at the Elder's feet.
Five seconds ago, she had been thrashing all around the square, as howl after howl tore through her snout. Each howl was more violent than the last, tearing through so hard it made her whole body shake and then fall. Every fall was outlined with a sickening crunch, as another of her bones broke. She didn't seem to mind, or perhaps she healed faster than I thought, as she was up the next second and making yet another howl. And somehow she was back where it all started, collapsing at the feet of the Elder, like her wolf legs could not carry her weight. And sfe lay there panting so heavily, small clouds formed in front of her snout
No one moved. A stillness fell on the square that felt like gravity itself. Me? I craned my neck from where I sat on the Blavktrist and saw what I felt reflected in the eyes of all the six still standing.
Pure, unadulterated fear.
Will I really have to go through this as well?
I don't dare answer that question, rather, I do not dare accept the clear answer before my eyes as I stared at the girl.
She was slowly returning back to her human form, the red fur disappearing just as it came, tuft after tuft, till she lay naked and curled into her chest, her red hair matted with sweat over her body.
A middle-aged woman, most likely her mother, with the same red hair, brought a black robe and covered her with it, but not before receiving a nod from the Elder. After draping her child in the robe, she looked up at the Elder, her eyes pleading and expectant.
The Elder took exactly one step forward and announced in a loud voice:
"Gladys of House Barricks has been blessed with her Howl! Long live the Moon."
"Long live the Moon." The crowd cheered.
Their cheers are drowned out by the thumping of my beating heart as I found the strength to stand on my feet. As if on cue, the Blavktrist receded its warmth and became cold, even the Colanvor lost all of its red glow, leaving its original metallic shine.
House Barricks.....
She is a noble...
At ten, it's really hard to say what she will become, but it's really not hard to imagine. All nobles are the same, from history till now. History always repeats itself.
"Let's not think about that right now." I chided, muttering to myself.
I will my legs to no longer wobble, and stood ramrod straight, staring holes into the Colanvor, wondering if the next colour will be mine.
I have a howl to get.
The next colour was not mine.
Nor was the one after that.
Not one of the colours the Colanvor glowed was mine.
I watched as girl after boy after girl after boy after boy was carried off the Blavktrist after being announced to have "been blessed with a howl" I am the last one standing.
It suddenly felt cold, the square had bled out it's crowd, each family taking their child home after this blessed torture, till that faces of my father and my brothers were no longer obstructed.
It was cold, the wind lashing solely at me, and not shared with six other bodies, and my feet were not appreciating the biting cold of the Blavktrist either.
The Elder took her exact one step back, falling in line with the others, there was the cold air of discipline and authority about them, that didn't make me any warmer.
The Colanvor was back to its metallic shine, and I waited, with my breath stuck somewhere in my throat, for the Colanvor to glow my colour. There was really no other choice now.
Colanvor typically glowed the color of each person's hair, mine is jet black, so when the Colanvor glows silver like the moon, I am not the only confused.
Something deep in my mind tells me this is wrong.
Something is terribly wrong.
The saying: "a knot in my belly" finally made sense in this moment. I used to think it was foolish, because I always thought intestines could not form a knot.
I know now that I was sorely wrong.
I stared hard at the Colanvor, because there was nowhere else to look, more like nowhere I'd dare look.
The Colanvor did not change, it glowed stubbornly silver still, not seeming like it would change.
I tried to think about what was silver about me.
I came up with nothing.
"Your eyes, Child." The Elder, my Elder's voice spoke in time.
And rightly so. I have grey eyes, but Father used to say I had silver flecks in them and it reminded him of my mother.
That is such a small part of me, but it still is me I guess.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
There was nothing.
No searing pain.
No bubbling feeling
No twitching that I could feel in my nerves
No blessed torture
There was not even an itch.
I was as numb as numb can be.
Save for my thumping heart.
Slowly I craned my neck to the side, and found my father's eyes in the crowd. He had an encouraging smile that didn't reach his eyes, because in there, he knew there was something very wrong.
I turned my eyes back to the Colanvor, still stubbornly glowing silver, and I began to feel.... something.
My heart swelled with joy or relief or both until I realised the "sensation" was not from within but from with out.
It was the Blavktrist, receding its warmth and reverting to its cold original state. I dropped to my knees as the realisation dawned on me, my hands flat against the surface as if I could stop the warmth from leaving, I was clawing the surface trying to pull the warmth back into the Blavktrist.
A delusion, at the most polite.
The Elder stepped forward, grimmer than ever, and a frown that I could feel rather than see, and she announced: her voice louder than all her counterparts combined;
"Elara Fenton. Despised by the Moon, has not been blessed with a Howl."
Her words were crushing, much more heavier than her aura, and they echoed in the silence in their wake.
Despised by the Moon....
Not blessed with a howl.
Not a noble
I had never been stabbed before, the closest I had ever felt to pain was hitting my toe against a shelf.
I thought that was pain.
It was nothing compared to this.
I felt stabbed, like hundreds of needles were poking into my heart and drawing all the blood in there, leaving me empty and dry.
I turned to look at my father, what I found ripped my heart out altogether.
For the first time, I knew why people said he looked grim.
Because he looked at me like that now.
Gone was the fond expression he had for me.
********
That night, I lost everything.
It was the beginning of the end.