Orion's Rite of Passage (October 20, 1996)

At the shores of the half-moon pool...

Kere'ngende inclines her head in greeting to the metis, not exactly hiding
  all her distaste for the young one.
Orion returns the gesture, his bald head bobbing quickly but deeper, his eyes
  lingering on his feet. "Good evening, Elder," he says  quietly.
Kere'ngende strides to the edge of the pool. "Come along," she says in tones
  that brook no opposition.
Orion silently obeys, falling into step immediately.
Kere'ngende nods to Anne. "Are you ready? If so, let us begin."
Anne inclines her head, walking in a circle clockwise around Orion and then 
  coming to a halt beside Kere. "I am ready," she answers. She asks Orion, "I 
  asked you to tell me when you thought you were ready, and you have. I will 
  ask once more, to be sure: are you ready?"
Orion fingers the pair of necklaces looped about his neck, the bits of bone 
  clicking lightly. "I am ready, Anne-rhya," he says, gaze firm on her face.
Kere'ngende raises her hands to the sky in supplication. "Gaia, great mother 
  of us all, we beseech you. Luna, her celestial sister, the all-in-one, we 
  implore you. Look upon this one, the cub Orion. He seeks to become one of 
  your guardians, one of Artemis's Chosen. We know his past--metis born. We 
  know his present--he runs under the light of Luna at her fullest. His future 
  now rests in your hands. On these sacred grounds, we release him to you for 
  the testing of his mind, heart and soul. May your Truth prevail."
Kere'ngende turns away and lights a bonfire prepared for this ceremony, then 
  throws a handful of herbs into the flames. Strong-smelling smoke fills the 
  air.
Orion bows his head as Kere'ngende speaks, spidery fingers still clasping his 
  necklaces. His golden gaze buries itself in the flames as they leap to life, 
  and his lips move with silent words.
Kere'ngende lifts a black jar, holds it in the smoke, then turns with it to 
  the cub. "In the name of the Mother, I cleanse you with sacred water, and 
  offer this final wisdom that you may heed or not: There are many paths you 
  can take in this life. Some must be taken, though you would wish otherwise, 
  and some that can never be, cherished hope that they are." She empties the 
  first jar over Orion's feet. "May you walk in light and avoid that which is 
  dark." The next jar, a white one, is emptied over his hands. "May your hands 
  only reach for the good andshun evil." The final jar, made of crystal, is 
  emptied over his head. "May your mind be clear and help you discern between 
  truth and falsehood, and guide you well."
Kere'ngende steps back and nods to Anne.
Orion blinks placidly as the last of the water spills down his face and neck, 
  his hands still held before him as they were to accept the water. He makes 
  no motion, makes no move to speak.
Anne approaches Orion, a small jar in her hand with a greyish-green paste in 
  it. She dips her fingers into the paste, and on his left cheek solemnly 
  traces out the Garou glyph for metis. "For what was. You were born metis, 
  your existence an affront to Gaia by your parents." She puts her fingers 
  back into the jar, drawing out a little more to make the symbol for ahroun 
  on his right cheek. "For what is: you are an Ahroun, a fighter. Though yet 
  inexperienced, you have shown this strength by standing for what you 
  believe, being willing to make your own path when it was needed." A final 
  time the Galliard's fingers come out with paste on them, and on the cub's 
  forehead she places the Fury glyph. "For what will be: you seek to become a 
  Fury, an adult among your tribemates. Let these three symbols guide you to 
  what you seek, and what you are, and what is behind you. Let them remind you 
  of all those things that are a part of you."
Kere'ngende continues to chant softly and fan the sweetsmelling smoke over the 
  cub, completing his prification.
Orion remains still, head dipping once more, his mouth again moving. His voice 
  hovers about like a bee's hum, but once rises enough for 'Mother' to be made 
  out. One hand strays upwards to barely dab the pasted glyphs on his face.
The cleansing water begins to dry on Orion's skin as the smoke wafts over him, 
  encircles him. The boy's breathing deepens, his eyelids grow heavy and he 
  soon collapses into sleep, the smoke settling about him again.
After some time of dreaming, the cub seems to waken, at a meeting of forest 
  paths. Somewhere in memory is the knowledge of being driven out once again, 
  sent away from the Wheel Renewed. The forest is shrouded in fog, leaving all 
  but the nearest trees and the paths between them invisible in the grey.
Orion stands in place for a time, simply breathing and thinking. He cannot 
  capture a reason for being in this hazy forest, so does nothing but examine 
  the paths wandering off from his point, frozen, now, with indesicion.
Behind the cub, an ominous rumble of thunder can be heard, but for an instant 
  of time the rumble seems not that of thunder but that of drums, war drums.
Orion spends another few moments turning and watching the obscured paths, 
  glancing backwards at the roll of thunder just once. Finally, after some 
  sort of internal deliberation, he strikes into the woods toward the sound.
The sound seems always far away, as Orion heads towards it; on twisting path 
  through the woods, sometimes running alongside small streams and sometimes 
  crossing over them, he walks for some time. Abruptly, a Crinos form, a male 
  holding a spear with its point aimed towards Orion's heart, rises out of the 
  bushes ahead. ~Who goes there?~
Orion freezes, eyes flashing over the Garou once before his gaze plants itself 
  at the bushes near the other's feet. "I am named Orion, son of firelight," 
  he says steadily. "I am called the Usher of the Blackest day, and was born a 
  Warrior into the Black Furies."
The spear is pulled backwards, obviously about to be let loose at Orion; 
  another male, this one young and with eyes full of laughter, springs up out 
  of the bushes beside the first, grabbing hold of the spear before it is 
  released. "Hey, relax, he's clean." The smiling male addresses Orion. 
  "Please forgive Defends-the-Gate. He's Get, and sometimes jumpy." 
  Defends-the-Gate shakes the spear as he lowers it, and the speaker drops his 
  hand from it. "I'm Sings-the-Joys-of-the-World, of the Children of Gaia. 
  What brings you to us?"
"I-I have been sent out from my caern," he says slowly, one hand going to rub 
  at his forehead as if that will clear his memories. Casting Defends-the-Gate 
  one wary glance he steps a bit closer, toward Sings-the-Joys. "I cannot say 
  that anything brings me to this place, but I have nowhere to go. I-It is 
  good meeting you." This is mostly for the Gaian, but his eyes sway one last 
  time to barely include the Get.
Sings-the-Joys regards the cub in silence for a few moments, then nods and 
  grabs the spear again to tug on it again. "I'm going to show him in a little 
  further. You watch." With that, the younger, but obviously superior, Gaian 
  leads Orion into the woods. In a small glade, a pair of women materialize, 
  one glowering, another smiling. "Who's this?" pipes up the cheerier of the 
  two, looking at Orion himself for the answer.
Orion shifts his feet and his eyes, settling on the dark haired young woman. 
  "I am called Orion," he says, repeating his introduction. "Usher of the 
  Blackest Day and Warrior cub of Black Fury blood."
Once again, the surly one ruffles and is soothed by the friendly. When that's 
  done, the dark-haired woman says, "We're tribemates, then. They call me 
  Keeps-the-Balance, and this is one of Sings-the-Joys' tribemates, Anna 
  Shadow-Guide." With that, she joins Sings-the-Joys, leading Orion to another 
  glade where they bring food and drink to him, then sit with him.
Orion settles in slowly, eyeing the clearing before moving to sit. After a few 
  drinks and some food, though, he loosens, asking, "Where are we? What is 
  this place?"
Startlement comes into the Fury's eyes; she says, after a moment, "Why, this 
  is the Caern of the Loom. We here are Get, Furies, and Children of Gaia, 
  trying to work out all the snags in our tribal relationships. The Children's 
  idea, of course. Weaving the tribes together harmoniously, some of the 
  Furies call it - you know that there are many good weavers among the Furies."
Orion nods, chewing slowly on a heel of bread. "The elder back at... back 
  where I come from was one," he says, then falls silent, looking about 
  himself, trying to get bearings in the foggy surroundings.
Suddenly, once more out of the fog, comes Anna, giving a shove to Orion on her 
  way past and snarling, "Get out of my way, mule."
Orion takes the push as he usually does, moving with it and out of the way 
  quickly. Ducking his head submissively, he mutters, "My apologies, 
  Anna-rhya."
Keeps-the-Balance swings out an automatic hand to cuff at Anna, though she 
  misses by a goodly bit. After Orion's eaten, she and Sings-the-Joys take him 
  around to show him some of the interesting sites, though not the caern 
  itself. During the tour, Defends-the-Gate appears, glowering and cuffing at 
  Orion while the two tour guides glower right back. Sings-the-Joys snaps, 
  "Leave him alone, already!"
Orion takes this abuse as before, as submissively as possible. And as 
  Sings-the-Joys rebukes the Get the cub gives him a surprised glance - none 
  have stood up for him like this. With muttered thanks he steps back into 
  line, pushing the incidents out of mind as best he can.
After a bit more of the tour, the sky darkens, and the two adults guide Orion 
  to another glade, this one with springy, soft grass in the middle. "Here, 
  sleep here," says Keeps-the-Balance. "And, um, pay no mind to those two. 
  They're just, er, jumpy. That's all."
The excuses, too, are out of place for Orion, and he offers the other Fury a 
  short, curious look before settling into a soft patch of grass and trying to 
  ease into sleep. This is the way he has slept about the farmhouse, so does 
  not find it difficult, and he has no problems paying no more mind to 
  Defends-the-Gate and Shadow-Guide, as their actions are typical.
A few days pass this way, with others besides Shadow-Guide and 
  Defends-the-Gate giving shoves, cuffs, and rude words to Orion on a regular 
  basis, but those two always showing several times a day. Sings-the-Joys and 
  Keeps-the-Balance are both constantly apologetic, and invite Orion with them 
  on hunts, and occasionally to stand border guard with them.
After several days, just after dragging down a deer with his two friendly 
  guides, Orion is shoved once more, by Defends-the-Gate, who growls at him, 
  ~Back off. First of the kill to the greatest in station.~ These days have 
  had mounting hostilities from a few, and simply the reminders of who is 
  better from most.
Orion has accepted the harsh treatment well so far, thanks to the offerings of 
  the hunt and patrol from his friends. The moon nears fullness, though, and 
  the cub's Rage begins to build. He actually snarls at the Get this time, 
  ~You did not take the deer. We did!~
Defends-the-Gate roars in return, ~Submission to those above you in rank, 
  _cub_!~
Orion steps back, nose wrinkling, ears lying flat. He glances quickly from one 
  friend to the other, gauging their support this time.
Both of the friendly Garou are growling, their own ears flat, eyes on the Get 
  while they crouch, not springing to attack but obviously warning him. And 
  waiting; waiting for Orion's choice.
Orion snarls once again, though less with malice than anxiety and sweeps his 
  tail between his legs and lowers his head. With a whine he backs away.
Defends-the-Gate snarls in satisfaction and messily tears into the deer; when 
  he is finished, he turns and strides off into the forest, tail and head held 
  high. The other two watch him go resignedly; Keeps-the-Balance turns to 
  Orion to ask, ~Why did you not strike back?~
Usher watches Defends-the-Gate as well, submission fleeting. ~I am metis,~ he 
  growls. ~It is not my place to fight back. A teacher made certain I learned 
  that.~
Keeps-the-Balance flattens her ears a little again, dubiously, but says 
  nothing; Sings-the-Joys snorts. ~Doesn't mean you have to ignore your own 
  rights, anyway. You're still Garou. He has a duty to you, too.~ He pauses, 
  then suggests, ~Why don't we show you the caern?~
Usher whuffs quietly and sniffs after the Get's trail, then turns to fall into 
  step alongside Sings-the-Joys. ~I would like that,~ he replies, but his 
  thoughts are on the Gaian's idea of 'duty'.
The two guide Orion along trails they scrupulously avoided before. A half hour 
  later, Sings-the-Joys says, ~Remember, the Litany orders us to have respect 
  for our lessers. It does not mean we take insubordination, but we should not 
  treat them rudely, either.~ Just as he finishes speaking, the three come out 
  into what is, apparently, the caern.

A large pool sits cradled in a rocky cup, a stream bubbling out of it 
  cheerfully. Only along the streambanks are the shores of the pond anything 
  but rock: dirt, with tall green grasses, waves in the breeze there. Beyond 
  the water, opposite the stream, is a stand of birches, while willows 
  decorate the streambank a ways beyond the pool. The rocks vary from small to 
  large, and some have grass and dirt squeezed between them to allow a small 
  footpath, only inches wide, with which to approach the pond. Some of the 
  rocks are large enough to sit on, low enough that feet would dangle in the 
  water if they were sat on.

Usher makes note of these new trails while he can, and sniffs the air as they 
  arrive at the caern. ~This place is beautiful,~ he says. ~Much like Mother's 
  Heart,~ he adds, quieter. Inquisitive, he pads about, snuffling the rocks 
  and trees. The conversation of respect is studiously forgotten.
Both of the Sept members transform into homid form, to sit on two of the rocks 
  and dangle their feet into the water. "It's nice, and peaceful, and even 
  though it's not very powerful here, you can feel the Mother," agrees 
  Keeps-the-Balance.
Usher contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Usher shifts into Homid form.
Orion follows their lead, shifting and walking toward the pool. He kneels atop 
  a rock and peers into the clear water, captivated by a school of minnows. 
  "You can feel the Mother everywhere," he murmurs, dropping a pebble and 
  scattering the tiny fish. "This place does seem safe, though. Peace, quiet, 
  little danger."
As Orion's words drop into the silence, a large number of Garou, led by 
  Defends-the-Gate and Shadow-Guide, bursts out through the trees, rushing to 
  grab him and, some of them, to restrain the Fury and Gaian who had helped 
  Orion. In the birches, a tall presence is revealed as the Alpha of the Sept, 
  who watches with sad eyes but does not speak or attempt to join either side. 
  The two friendly Garou are subdued by the klaives of silver held to their 
  throats, though the blood on them shows that it took some effort to get to 
  that impasse. Both hold out one hand towards the cub and his two captors, to 
  be ignored as Defends-the-Gate snarls, ~You're a Wyrmcreature, and you're 
  here in our caern. We're going to let these two live, and they say they 
  can't tell taint on you, but you're leaving. Go.~
The Rage begins to boil once more, but Orion simply purses his lips and shakes 
  his head once. "Why am I closer to the Wyrm than any other?" he asks, as 
  calmly as possible. "You are more filled with Jormungandr's fiery hate than 
  I. I bring no ill to... " He pauses, memories returning. "I bring no ill to 
  this caern."
Defends-the-Gate snarls; so do many of the others. ~You're a mule, an insult 
  to Gaia. I saw your form in lupus, like a snake of the Wyrm almost! The 
  Wyrm's hand is on you even if no one can feel the taint. It's subtle, the 
  Wyrm!~
Orion returns the snarl, the expression more feral across his human features. 
  "The Wyrm /is/ subtle," he replies. "It brings fear and suspicion to those 
  that do not need it, festering in those too full of honor and themselves. I 
  am not a creature of this Wyrm. I am a sign," he finishes, his eyes shifting 
  from his friends toward the removed alpha. "Make of it what you will, but I 
  am the Mother's sign."
Some of the Garou occupied with neither of the three restrained Garou shift 
  nervously. The Alpha crosses his arms over his chest, bending a stern gaze 
  onto Defends-the-Gate, who lifts up his own klaive just as Sings-the-Joys 
  suddenly grabs at the wrist near his own throat. Just as the brawl seems 
  about to erupt again, a lupus comes racing in. ~Spirals,~ he pants. ~Coming 
  the same way he did. Lots. Have to...stop them.~ He turns back and begins on 
  his way back, immediately followed by four or five others. Defends-the-Gate 
  throws Orion to the ground with enough force to stun and snarls, ~So your 
  work is done, then. If you're such a sign, why do they follow your tracks?~ 
  Without a word, he and the others leave, dropping both Sings-the-Joys and 
  Keeps-the-Balance, stunning them also.
Orion hits the ground heavily, the scout's warning more stunning than the 
  Get's accusation. But this is not a new series of events, and the boy only 
  makes it to hands and knees before his eyes shimmer with tears. With effort, 
  he turns to face Sings-the-Joys and Keeps-the-Balance, afraid their eyes 
  will be the same as his attacker's.
Sings-the-Joys is unconscious, a rock at his head suggesting why; the Fury is 
  bleeding from a slice on her shoulder, made with the klaive as she was 
  dropped. Her other hand reaches out towards Orion. ~Help them, Orion,~ she 
  asks, pain thickening her voice. ~They hate you, but they need you there 
  too. If they followed you, if the Dark Brothers followed you, it can only 
  stop if _you_ choose for it to...~ She slips back, effort exhausting her; 
  blood still flows sluggishly from her shoulder.
Orion fumbles slowly about, trying to settle his friends into more comfortable 
  positions. Sloppily cleaning and binding their wounds, the boy can hear the 
  sounds of battle and cannot make his mind. He stands over the others, 
  listening to the sounds of his Mother, his teachers, his ancestors, but 
  cannot think of anything but this third caern and third assault.
Keeps-the-Balance opens her eyes again, breathing heavily, painfully. ~Help 
  them,~ she pleads again. ~The Mother, the Wyld. Help them...please. 
  Choose...~ This time, she slips into unconsciousness.
Orion stands, still frozen, for a long moment, eyes focused on some point off 
  in the woods. The desicion is simple for him, but the fears and suspicions 
  that he had almost totally banished at the Wheel come roaring back. What if 
  he really does drag evil behind him? What if he is of the Wyrm? A 
  particularly loud howl pulls him from his pointless wondering, and he moves 
  off toward a random point in the fight.

[ Note for the readers: the following pose was somewhat choppy and
  disjointed.  This stems from Anne trying to write a pose enough to make
  clear several different options.  The option chosen would result in
  Orion's choosing of his Ahroun Gift, since he did not choose one in BP.
  Orion's reg-wiz had approved the choosing of a Gift on RoP before I did
  this. ]

Nearing the fight, several things stand out in even a quick glance. The 
  fighters of the Loom are good, but lack cohesion, and seem to be confused 
  and a little overwhelmed. A large rock is in the path before reaching the 
  part of the forest where the fight is, scrapes and scratches showing it to 
  be a place where Ahrouns and Get Gifted with Razor Claws sharpened their 
  claws before going forward. And, last, a single Spiral, the largest of them 
  all, is circling around the fight, picking out Defends-the-Gate as the 
  largest of the defending Garou and sneaking towards him from behind, a 
  dark-bladed knife in one claw.
As the cub nears the rock at a run he changes shape, slowing and assuming the 
  war-form. As if in a dream, he circles the big stone and drags his black 
  claws along it, in the groove of marks made by a nameless Ahroun, pain 
  shooting up his arms as he does so. It fuels his Rage, though, and he sets 
  his sights on the unoccupied Dancer - he does not notice Defends-the-Gate so 
  much as that lone Spiral.
Orion contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Orion shifts into Crinos form.
The Spiral nears Defends-the-Gate, as others begin to overwhelm the Garou.
Usher charges forward, his lessons in combat jumbling over and over in his 
  head as the heat of battle brings instinct to the fore. This is where the 
  cub is most effective - Rage burns as he leaps upon the Spiral, claws 
  blurring as he rends in with a horrible speed.
The Spiral is felled by the attack, and the Ahroun's Rage causes ripping 
  sounds as the other Spirals, even those not attacked by him, fade suddenly 
  into nothingness. Rage is worked out on the Spiral remaining beneath Orion's 
  claws, and then the body and, indeed, the forest and other Garou around 
  Orion fade. There is a sound like the thunder of wings, as the dreamer 
  awakes, once more next to the Half-Moon Pool.

You paged Usher with 'And, oh. You _do_ get injured by the Spiral, and you 
  wake up with a small scratch, like a small echo of the injury, on your left 
  arm. It'll heal up by tomorrow or Tuesday.'.

Usher contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Usher shifts into Homid form.
Anne is kneeling beside Orion, Kere'ngende opposite her. Each of them has a 
  small pot in one hand, and as he opens his eyes, Anne says softly, "Pegasus 
  returns you to us, to tell us that you have succeeded." She washes one cheek 
  off, as Kere'ngende washes the other; the Fury glyph, on his forehead, 
  remains. "You have chosen to pass beyond the name given to you in anger and 
  pain, to pass beyond the hatred given to you and to choose friendship and 
  the Mother over your own pride and your own hurt. You have chosen to defend 
  the Wyld at risk of your own life, a cub against those strong enough to 
  destroy a caern. You have passed the final test, Orion. You are cub no 
  longer."
As the one world blurs, fades into the other, Orion wakes, slowly coming into 
  wakefulness. He blinks about himself, uncertain, his eyes finally settling 
  on Anne. He does not speak, but fingers the paste glyph with a feather's 
  touch.
Anne settles back on her heels, tilting her head. "Have you any questions for 
  us?"
Orion looks about himself again, as if to make sure this is reality. "A-Am I 
  finished, Anne-rhya?" he asks, before her first words sink in. "I-I am a cub 
  no longer," he echoes. "Do I have anything else to finish?"
Anne smiles faintly and shakes her head. "You are a cub no longer," she 
  repeats. "You are not dead, and you are not a cub. There is only a third 
  choice, from the Rite of Passage."
Anne chuckles again, tone shifting to dry. "You are the one who made the 
  choice, Oroin. You chose honor, chose the Wyld, chose over hatred. Thank 
  yourself first." She pauses, then adds, "Yourself, who chooses life over 
  hatred."
Orion nods, pushing slowly to his feet and brushing his hands on his pants. "I 
  am no longer the Usher of the Blackest Day," he says. "I am reborn by my own 
  choice."
Anne asks, formally, "Then what is your name, Cliath of the Furies?"
Drawing himself and squaring his shoulders toward his elders, Orion says, "I 
  am Orion Chooses-Honor-Before-Hate," he says. "Cliath of the Black Furies."
Anne rises, as does Kere; both elder Furies nod slowly. "It is a good choice," 
  Anne says. "I welcome you to the Furies, Orion Chooses-Honor-Before-Hate." 
  Abruptly, the formality falls away, and she pushes, lightly and obviously 
  teasingly, at his shoulder. "Go show off now, or something."
Orion nods and turns to jog into the forest, roughly toward the path back to 
  the farmhouse.