The sun dipped below the trees. Fires were lit. Tables were laid with the finest wares that the elves had to offer. The domestics worked throughout the day readying for the celebration. There was a sumptuous feast laid out for the entire tribe. The silver goblets and copper steins caught and reflected the firelight as the sun descended. All was aglow in euphoria.
The younglings proceeded down the forest path and into the widening circle of elves, two by two. Anterra was paired up with Fenian, her rival in the arena, her friend otherwise. A palpable hush fell over the entire tribe as the students assembled.
Ayrdan-El, the leader of the tribe, began. "Tonight we gather here, as one, to rejoice and revel in accomplishment and felicity. Tonight we are all brothers and sisters, as we are in all of life. Speak your loving thoughts to each other and say your farewells. Do not hold on to your melancholy musings. Remember we are, all of us, unceasingly intertwined. You who are Ilthrae bound will begin now to build your next stage of life. You are academy members! Go forth and excel at your crafts and make good use of your time. Here now is Tyrulan, our head scholar, to begin the naming ceremony for the evening."
A respectful round of applause rose from the crowd. Tyrulan, a tall, bookish elf with just a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, stepped up to the rostrum and regarded his students with affection. Time after time, he felt this way on the eve of Ilthrae; that this was his best and strongest class of youngsters to date. He knew it was his closeness to the young elves and the pride with which he had watched them all advance so expertly that he held them in highest esteem upon leaving for the academy. Again and again, he mourned the emptiness of the arena and the lecture hall. And then, a new assemblage of students would arrive at the door of the school, fresh-faced and eager to learn. And the process would begin anew.
And so the naming ceremony began. Each elf's name was called, one by one, and each would stand and be told of his or her assignment at Ilthrae. Fenian was called and, of course, got into the combat arts. Two more, one to learning arts and one to fine arts. Another to combat. And so it went.
Finally, it was Anterra's turn. She smiled slightly. She was sure to get into combat arts. She had bettered everyone in the arena during the tournament. Her name was called. "Anterra, of the house of Grai-El, you shall be specializing in the healing arts. You should know this was a difficult decision. We are aware of your natural skill with your weapons and you will continue to be trained while there, but you will be concentrating on the art of herbs and healing at Ilthrae." Anterra was paralyzed with confusion. How is it that she was not going into combat training? It was all she ever wanted, all she ever trained for. Her eyes began to pool but she could not let herself be seen as anything that overjoyed by the appointment. She turned to Fenian, who looked at her wide-eyed.
"Terra, I don't know what to say! I can't believe you won't be in my classes." Fenian exclaimed in a hushed tone. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder.
She replied, "I don't know, Fenian. I hope I get to talk to Grai-El before I go. I have to find out what all this is about. I thought for sure, I mean, you agree. Right? This doesn't make any sense!" Some of the others' attention was being pulled away from the head scholar as they were becoming involved with the conversation between Anterra and Fenian. Tyrulan shot the group a glance that quieted them down immediately. The scholar finished with the naming. Eighteen students would be sent off to Ilthrae before dawn. Eighteen empty beds would greet the new day at Morthar.
They would go by beast to Ilthrae. Anterra had Po. The loneliness would not be so bad for her as for some of the others who were taking family horses or stock animals with whom they had no spirit connection. All elves were attuned to all animals but, for most, it was more of an understanding of the symbiosis that all things are connected. For those with the gift, such as Anterra, it was a heightened sense of that being and that being was imprinted upon the elf. In Anterra's case, the fact that her spirit beast was a unicorn made the pair all the more rare. Unicorns were not unheard of but they were rarely spotted.
Anterra craned her neck, trying to find Grai-El in the circle surrounding them. Finally she saw the healer, who caught her eye and winked. That made her feel a little less anxious. She was sure that Grai-El could set her mind at ease and tell her what this was all about. As far as she knew, there was no learning pod for the healing arts. She was very confused by the whole matter.
Next, the students would receive their swords. They were presented by the head of each household, Anterra's to be bestowed by Grai-El, her official guardian. One by one, the students took possession of beautiful elvish made blades, varying slightly in style depending on it's owners fighting style. Seventeen blades were distributed. And now it was Anterra's turn. Grai-El stepped forward.
"I, Grai-El, mentor and guardian, do hereby entrust this blade, forged in the fires of our best craftsmen, to my student and 'daughter', Anterra. May she be swift and true with this blade and may she never need to use it." And with that, Anterra stepped forward and allowed Grai-El to fasten the scabbard around her waist. The weight of it felt good.
As Grai-El stepped away from the girl, Anterra unsheathed her sword. It was a thing of beauty. Marbled beauty in the Damascus blade. Black and silver pommel with black leather grip. Slightly shorter than the average blade and slightly thinner, making it lighter and easier for the elf to maneuver. It was for a reason the blade was lighter. Anterra would never have the upper body strength that the male elves would have. The lighter weight was smarter for an elf maiden than the blade of one of her male counterparts. She would be able to retain her quickness and agility with this blade.
She was in awe of her new sword and immediately thought of the day she would be able to put it through the heart of the one responsible for her family's deaths. She smiled cruelly for a mere moment and the firelight glinted in her eyes. Grai-El noticed. She prayed that the elf did not make a move before being fully trained.
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