Torn Between Destinies

The morning air was cool when I woke. Mist still hugged the ground in the hidden valley, curling around stones like sleepy cats. Orrin was already waiting near the tall evergreen, his gray robes moving lightly in the breeze. I rubbed my eyes and stood, feeling stiff but ready. Today, he said, my true training would begin.

Orrin raised one hand in greeting. "Come, Luciana. The First Way waits."

I walked to him and saw a small circle of smooth stones laid out on the moss. Each stone was etched with a mark—half moons, full moons, and a single star. In the center lay a hollow bowl made from silver metal. Water filled the bowl, and its surface reflected the sky even though most of the sky was hidden by trees.

"What is the First Way?" I asked.

"Mooncalling," Orrin said. His voice was calm but carried weight. "This is the oldest song of our kind. It reaches to the sky and pulls the moon’s will into flesh and bone. If done right, it heals and strengthens. If wrong, it can shatter a wolf’s voice forever."

I swallowed. "And if I lose my voice?"

"You will lose more than sound," he said. "You will lose the path. The next trials depend on a clear song. So we must take care."

He motioned for me to sit on one stone. He sat across from me. The silver bowl glowed softly between us. The water inside looked deep, though I knew the bowl was shallow.

"The moon is still in the sky," Orrin said, pointing up through the branches. I saw a faint white circle, pale in daylight. "She listens even in day. You must call to her. Then draw her answer into your heart and let it out as a howl. When it is right, your voice and the moon’s will blend. When it is wrong, the sound breaks you."

I felt fear tighten my chest. My howl was strong back home, but this felt different. Bigger. Dangerous.

Orrin must have seen my worry. He dipped his fingers into the bowl and flicked water toward me. The droplets landed on my forehead, cool and sharp.