The Trials of Caste

The Trials of Caste by Joel Babbitt Page B

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Authors: Joel Babbitt
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Young Adult
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Warrior Group, Durik and Keryak were surprised to see Jerrig sitting
in the entrance with his knees up to his chest.  The rush lights that cloaked
the area near the entrance with their smoky light threw shadows over Jerrig’s
still form.
    When Durik stopped and asked what was the matter,
Jerrig did not respond immediately.  Throughout the year of training they’d
undergone together, Durik and Keryak had gotten used to this.  It was almost as
if he were struggling for some sort of inner control, which didn’t surprise
Durik.  He’d heard several stories about his cousin. 
    Keryak put his hand on Durik’s arm and bade him
farewell until the morrow.  Durik nodded and came up next to Jerrig, kneeling
next to him in the cool sand of the caverns.
    Presently, Jerrig looked up from where he was
staring and smiled meekly at Durik.  “Hi, Durik.  Strange finding you here at
this time of the night.  I thought you would be home already from the meeting.”
    Durik smiled back, putting his hand on Jerrig’s
shoulder, “I was just going to say the same thing about you.  Come now, Jerrig,
it’s time to rest.”  Durik stood, reaching a hand out to Jerrig, the bronzed
tips of Jerrig’s otherwise rust-red scales and Durik’s completely bronze scales
showing a sign of their kinship.
    Jerrig took his hand and stood slowly.  As they
came eye to eye, Jerrig spoke, “Durik,” he started.  Not waiting for a
response, he quickly continued, “I want you to know that I appreciate what
you’ve done for me this past year.”
    Durik looked oblivious, “It was nothing, Jerrig. 
It’s an honor and a pleasure being your cousin, even if it did mean pushing and
pulling you on every march for the past year,” he said in a joking tone.
    The appreciation in Jerrig’s eyes was clear to see
as he began counting off the ways Durik had helped him.  “Or catching me on the
cliff, or spending extra hours practicing weapon play with Arbelk and me, or
giving Troka and me your water when we ran out deep in the underdark, or
convincing the others to not give up on me.”
    “Enough, enough already,” Durik cried.  “You make
it sound like more than it was.”  Durik put his hand on Jerrig’s shoulder,
“Besides, it was you who never gave up, cousin.  And soon, we will all get the
reward for our efforts of this past year.”  He paused then added, “Now, I’ve
got to get to bed, and if your father is anything like uncle Drok, and like my
father used to be,” Durik said, “then I would imagine he’s out looking for
you.”  Jerrig nodded and the two said their goodbyes as they left for their
respective homes. 
    Though they were soon to face the day that many a
yearling before them had dreaded, Durik was calm and sure of his preparations. 
Putting the images of the vision out of his mind, he let the assurance of this
year’s preparations calm his soul.  Reaching the entrance to the cave where the
Wolf Guard Warrior Group his father had belonged to in life was quartered,
Durik headed toward his uncle’s tent dwelling, where he met him just as his
uncle was about to go out looking for him.  After a few brief words, Durik went
straight to bed while his uncle continued to wait more impatiently for Durik’s
little sister’s return.
    As he lay in his cot, Durik’s mind turned again to
the vision he’d seen and pondered the meaning of it.  Was it just some dream? 
Yet the emotions were so strong, and the vision so real!  Had he really seen
his chief elite warrior throwing a body into a chasm?  That was crazy... and
yet he could not deny that he had seen it.  He knew that his life was about to
change dramatically with the coming trials, and yet this vision had brought
with it a feeling like no other he’d felt before. 
    Like footprints in the sands of his soul, the
hints and marks of what was to come seemed to fade with each passing wave of
thought and doubt.  Soon all that remained of the vision as he dropped off

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