So it's soon to begin

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds come out to dance with the blushing sky. An uplifting rhythm fills the air. However, once every ten years, the clouds part for the rhythm's source to escape the heavens. Just like the night is only weeks away. The village was overcome with anticipation and whispers about who they hoped would humble them with their presence on the arrival of their ancestors. However, one woman, in particular, spends her mornings under the sun's overwhelming energetic embrace as she eagerly polishes the steps for weeks before. Committed to please the heavens that she knows will never allow her the answers she so desperately craved, but brought such wisdom to all her fellow warriors. Was this her fate to forever watch as others grow and be reminded she was always only ever going to hold a Shaman's heart within, never have their blood run through her?

The mighty snake of the trees interrupted her thoughts as her reflexes reacted to a berry it flung from the high tree, shielding part of the shore as it sneaked over the cliff's edge. Her teacher always knew when it was time for a break, even if she didn't. She kicked the rough sand as she made her way toward the cliff's side, beginning the climb. She smiled at the sun as its position was yet to be centered, knowing she would have time to hide away from her duties at the village. A hideaway of her very own, nothing like her village, with wisdom from the ancestors of strange stories and some drawings littered with strange words of some sort of forgotten language. A language that matched no tomes of her village's records, it was an interesting new mystery to Amara that she couldn't stop herself from being drawn to.

Racing her teacher through the tree lines before emerging from the lagoon, she always felt so free. She ran her hand through the rocks' cracks, trying to locate the access which blended so well against the natural surface. When she jumped back at a faint humbling echoed from the rock. Her feet skipped along the path, not showing any attention to the cold devices lining the walks, as her shoulder knocked them from time to time. Her desire to get to the clearing numbs her senses and refuses to allow her training of curiosity to slow her down. The clearing held a hut now long left with no resident. It was filled with records of strange languages and sketches of our people's work from afar. The fireflies began to fill the air as time passed, with Amara submerged in her studies. As one landed on her nose, she was finally pulled out of the sea of strange drawings and words.

Sheepishly, she made her way back to the clan's village, knowing she had lost track of the sun's passing over the earth. The guardian was close by her side, sweeping past bushes of berries, and she filled a woven basket she had hidden in one of the trees on her way to the ruins. Soon, arriving at the village, the air smelled strange and still, but she shrugged it off as the tribe members danced and laughed together, preparing for the great honour only days away.

"Good to see you, Guardian", Vixen, the village's leader, spoke softly, bowing her head to the snake. Her voice quickly hardened, "Where have you been?!" as she shoved Amara in the shoulder, clearly annoyed. "I was gathering an offering for the ancestors", she protested, holding up the now-filled woven basket. She scoffed at Amara pulling some moss out of her hair that only grew on the other side of the land, nowhere near the berries that glimmered under the sun's rays. Amara couldn't stop the red blush spreading on her cheeks.

Amara bid her good friend goodbye, making her way to the center, and carefully placed the basket at the foot of the soul tree. Its silver leaves swayed across her back, making her smile as they dragged smoothly across the skin embracing her."Yes, my betters, it's nearly time," she smiled, comforted by the lingering sensatation of the leaves.