Rite of Passage

Four days had passed since the ritual had begun. Each passing sunrise and sunset loosened my grip on time's passage, like sand spilling from a crack in an hourglass. This contemplation of time's grains slipping through my fingers was as disheartening as the cold, which sunk itself deeper into my skin, creeping towards the bones within. The long night stretched out before me, beckoning slyly and coolly as if a trickster waiting for the fool. The swarthiness reached out and pulled as each step taken into the inky wickedness slowly seeped further from my lone figure; it's invisible current pulling me on and on.

Giants surrounded me in the phantasm of shadowed pines, their overhanging greenery cloaked and mysterious, for they held secrets untold to those warm-blooded creatures unable to translate their breathy whispering. There was no preparation for the ritual, only the stories told from mother to daughter of this ancient endless cycle. My bare feet had long since embraced the sharp, cold, and rough textures of the forest floor unbothered by the pebbles, stones, and twigs that harshly greeted heels and sole. Becoming a part of the forest's dark beauties, its pleasures, and pains, this was the only way. One was either lost or found in its chaotic wonders.

The sound of a breaking twig snapped my focus ahead, slightly to the right of a tall pine tree, close enough for my eyes to make out the silhouette of a creature, stark still against that unforgiving cold darkness that embraced its edges. The full moon's light filtered just enough through a break in the pine needles and oak leaves as the deer crept past, a pause, and she decided I was of no threat. A smaller figure awkwardly followed on spindly legs, both mother and fawn vanishing into the iniquity where the moonlight reached no further, snuffed out like candles. It was as if the forest had swallowed them whole, giving me the increasing impression that I too was inside the mouth of a powerful forest guardian neither found nor lost, only a part of her and at her mercy.

The passing of the small family reminded me of my own. My mother and her sisters waited for me at the far recess of the forest just outside its border, where the ancient ruins stood pale white against the open grasslands. In the temple, at the heart of those ruins, campfires burned and crackled, women sang in hopes that their voices would guide their daughters home. The faint singing was not unlike the lonesome howl of wolves. After the third day, they had begun their calls into the night. The first and second days had been silent as I'd threaded into the trees with the others. There were only two other girls in the forest with me, and I had seen and heard nothing of the other girls since entering the tree's depths. Thus was the ritual's way; none were to interfere with fate's plan. The forest goddess dealt us her cards, and we played them to our best abilities.

Moving on, I searched for some sign, this night was to be the last, and I struggled to regain my patience. The deer's appearance had reminded my weary mind and body of the goals for this ritual and its importance. Tonight would be either the manifestation of our true selves or the dark encompassing embrace of the forest. Both were an honor, but the possibility of never seeing my mother and brother again made my heartache.

Kneeling into the pine needles and dried leaves, I stretched out my cold fingers into the depths of its compost, feeling the earth and breathing deep, even breaths. Instinct had brought me down, as well as the pain in my legs, one of which the muscles seized in protest at the little water I had scavenged that day. Mouth like sandpaper, I lifted my eyes to the treetops trying to glimpse the moons shine through its heavy growth.

Some small inkling tickled at me, and I stood, deciding to search for an opening where the moon shone through the protective layer of leaves and pines above. Ever since I had been a small child, my mother had told me to seek the moon, where she took you was always a mystery, but my people believed it was a place of significant meaning and magic.

Raising from my crouch, I pushed forward following an instinct unlike any I'd felt before the start of the ritual, deeply rooted growing from a place untouched until now.

Rustling erupted to my right, startling me. I lept away from the sound, muscles tense, strained as panic began to creep up my stomach into my chest. Swiftly scanning the area, something glowed briefly before vanishing again in the darkness, eyes. I took flight, breaking into a sprint away from the eyes, feeling my skin prickle between my shoulder blades as the feeling of being chased produced a cold sweat from my brow and widened my own eyes in fright.

Again the rustling came but further away, a scream penetrated the night long and piercing. Shock, I spun around, clenching my hands around my throat in surprise. The cry had not been my own. Realization dripped out of me, along with the panic and fear rising higher. One of the others had found whatever I'd bolted so urgently from. My heart pounding up into my throat, I spun back around and kept running, desperately determined to escape whatever fate had befallen my sister.

I snap my head around to see who or what pursued me.

Thwack!

My head came in contact with a low hanging branch, propelling me back to the ground, a sharp pain blinding me briefly before I blinked and gasped in agony. Touching one trembling hand delicately to the area of impact, a warm wet gooey substance clung to my fingers as a result. I crept backward, swiveling my head gingerly to take in my surroundings, and felt the blood drain from my face turning a ghostly pale.

The luminous yellow eyes stared back at me, puncturing the inkiness of the night. Stumbling backward in a clumsy crabwalk, I pushed upwards, my arms straining first, then legs lifting me up to stand, spinning around and daring not to look back. Crashing through the forest, I finally came to the clearing of the moonlight flooding the tall grass.

There was nowhere else to hide, my legs weak and head pounding. I reached the middle of the clearing and prepared to face the beast behind me. I was refusing to leave this world without a fight. At last, I clenched my fists and braced for whatever fearful creature stalked me, fury building itself like a brick wall in my heart blocking out the terror which stood behind it. Kneeling in a crouch, I turned and prepared for what was coming.

Something screeched, and I pounced at the same moment letting out a fierce cry. My clenched fists unfurled like talons, right as a white blur dove down upon me.

Feathers swirled all around me in a dizzying combination of moonlight and pure white-speckled brown. A feeling of weightlessness raising me beyond the fears I'd felt below. A powerful sense of pride set me soaring above the clearing, tears prickling in my eyes as they scanned the vast green lands below, making out speckled lights of my sister's and mother's campfires far in the distance.

Finally, it all fits together, clicking into place, as If this flight had been a life I'd forgotten and finally remembered. My outstretched wings glided soundlessly through the night sky, and I closed my stretched talons like the fists I'd only moments ago unleashed upon my assailant. The bird with its sleek white feathers and round face was my true self, the being I'd been searching for deep in my heart all those long cold nights. I was soaring higher and higher in the form of what I knew in my heart to be a Barn Owl, fierce and graceful in the night's darkness. Within me all along and only revealed when I turned to face it.