The days and nights blurred. The fledgling continued her exercises with the other avians, her failures with them all the more painful. The alphas whispered together late in the night, wondering if the littlest fledgling really would surprise them all to become a Warrior, as her hatching had predicted.
The fledgling in question began her fasting ritual. It was only a few more weeks before the Initiation Ceremony, and she had to fast to be rid of the toxins in her blood. She had to bleed clean, the others warned her, or else her scar would not heal in the proper shape, ruining her future.
In the meantime, she lost the last of her downy hatchling coat. She used it to line her nest as the days grew shorter and colder. Her adult plumage was a subtle mahogany, turning red in the sunshine and black in the darkness. Her bright green eyes stood in marked contrast to her feathers, making her a unique avian beauty to behold, for most females had dull brown or yellow eyes to match their dull plumes.
The moon began its final phase, turning from a nearly full orb into a darkened mass. It was then that the Initiation Ceremony began.
The sunlight lightened the sky little by little, the stars fading away. The fledgling had not slept well.
She kept thinking of the Guardian, the avian that had landed near her nest and given her the cryptic message about a legacy. What did that mean? How could she consider such things, when she couldn’t even perform her half of the mating dance?
She preened herself delicately, moving slowly in her makeshift nest. Every muscle in her young body ached. She was still dazed from yesterday’s challenges, and the new day had already begun.
Wearily, she stood, shaking off the dust from her plumage and stretching her neck toward the rising sun.
She decided it would be best for her body and mind to wander and explore. She hadn’t done so by herself—usually she was accompanied by the insistent alpha female and male—but she felt today would be a different day.
The fledgling studied her resting siblings. They didn’t even budge as she stepped past, being careful not to disturb them. The alpha pair were sound asleep also, their necks entwined in a loving embrace. The fledgling gave them a passing glance, relieved they weren’t up before she was. For now, she could escape her pack and experience her own kind of freedom.
“When we die, what legacy will we leave behind?” queried a rich masculine voice, one the fledgling had never heard before. The voice echoed in her developing mind, sealing itself in her memory. She felt as if she were floating above the ground, her toes spread wide in a defensive posture. She was older, a little wiser but still awkward in her movements, still behind her siblings in their physical development. The voice belonged to a shadow, an odd form she could not place—quadrupedal, with a muscular neck and chest, round appendages at the top of the head, and a thin, curly tail behind.
The shadow paced in circles around her. She turned her head every which way to follow its lithe movements. The voice continued, “As we grow and change, so too do our needs. You are almost grown; it is time for you to leave the nest and begin to fly unaided. I will serve as your Guardian, hijita.” The shadow suddenly leaped toward her—and in an instant, in tendrils of smoke and mist, the shadow changed forms into a new shadow, a small avian with a pair of long tailfeathers.
“Remember all I have taught you...I will meet you when the time is right…”
Little claws and scaly hides, downy feathers and snapping jaws—all fought in vain to be the first to receive the glistening regurgitated meat from Wadjet. Boisterous squeaks and vicious scuffles followed as the bits of meat dropped onto their tiny heads.
The littlest hatchling kept her distance from her larger siblings. Her first attempts at getting along with her nestmates almost left her dead…or so she felt, as she didn’t receive a single scratch from their talons or teeth. Their loud voices and odd gestures frightened her. She waited patiently until a tiny blot of meat landed in her direction, often carefully placed by the alpha female herself. She ate it slowly, swallowing it whole as her siblings did.
Even though she was the first to hatch, she was the last to fledge, the last to leave the nest.
She watched her siblings from a careful distance. She watched them take their first wobbly steps, flap their tiny wings, and chase one another playfully. She watched them fight amongst one another for food. She even watched them dare to leap out of the nest and to begin on the path of making nests of their own.
She was always moving in circles.
First, they were slow and soothing, a gentle loop while ensconced in the darkness and the warm fluid surrounding her. All she had to do was push her head up a little, enough to throw her body off balance and into a spin. She kept it going by kicking her legs a little.
When the fluid became less, she realized she was trapped in a tight cocoon. If she tried to move, she became frightened due to the loss of warmth and comfort that she was once familiar with. So she stayed curled up as she grew.
One day, her whole world began to spin. It started off slow, reminiscent of the gentle turns she made herself. Then, absolute panic set in as her world began to spin faster and faster. She squeaked and squeaked, but no response occurred as she continued her ceaseless, out-of-control turning.
Just as quick as the disaster began, it stopped.