"Look at him, Kerel," Dinay whispered, exhausted from the birth. "Isn't he beautiful?"
"It's a boy?" Kerel exclaimed, his face lighting up.
"Yes," Dinay answered, smiling broadly. "Our son. Are the neighbors assembled yet?" The sounds of burning torches and feet scuffling outside answered her question. She swaddled the baby in another cloth to ward off the chill night air and, kising him on the forehead, handed him to his father with a proud smile.
Kerel carefully lifted the baby, afraid he would hurt it somehow. Cradling its head in the crook of one arm, he walked slowly throught the open door and out into the night. Stopping just over the threshold, Kerel stood as straight and tall as he could and announced to the small assembly before him: "My firstborn son!" The crowd cheered uproariously.
Slowly, a shocked silence crept throught the villagers, starting in the back, nearest the woods. The crowd parted as the hush fell to let--something--through. At first, Kerel was afraid. The the fear was replaced by anger and a paternal instinct to protect his child at any cost.
Inside, Dinay heard the people go silent. Though she was exhausted from giving birth, she somehow got to her feet and stumbled to the door to see what was srong. Leaning heavily on the doorjamb for support, she called quietly to Kerel. "What's wrong?" she asked. He didn't even hear her, seemingly transfixed by something.
Dinay's gaze slowly moved to where the last few people were moving aside to let the newcomer pass. From amongst them came a wandering shaman with hair as black as a panther's fur and bright yellow eyes. He was tall and sinewy, his graceful movements almost catlike. The priest stopped abruptly in front of Kerel, his gaze falling to the child in Kerel's arms.
"No...you can't..." Dinay heard herself say as she stumbled forward in an attempt to protect her newborn son. Her thoughts were reflected in her husband's eyes, but he seemed completely paralyzed. The stranger reached down and, very carefully and gently, took the child from Kerel, fastening it into a small sling-shaped satchel hanging around his neck.
Dinay screamed and attemped to run toward the man, but found that she could only fall to her knees in the dust. Finally, the stranger spoke, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle.
"Be at ease, child," he said, looking at Dinay. She hushed to hear his words. "Your son is destined to be a great hero. It is for that reason that I take him now.
"But I think it is best that you all forget this, for now," he said, raising his voice to include the entire assembly. "Someday, when the time is right, you will remember." He made a vague gesture and, suddenly, a bright light flashed before the villagers. When their vision cleared, the man was gone! In his place was a large black panther with a sling around its neck carrying a baby. They gasped in collective astonishment, a few of the nearer ladies screaming in terror.
Dinay, who had started to think semi-rationally agai, called out to the panther. "Wait! May I give him something? Something to remember me by?" The animal looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded once, slowly. She unclasped the silver chain from around her neck, the tiny, silver key hanging from it tinkling slightly. With shaking hands, she fastened it around the now-sleeping infant's tiny neck, then stepped back and fainted into her husband's arms.
Kerel was prepared for his wife's fall and caught her before she had gotten very far. Picking her up, he started to turn to go inside, but hesitated, his eyes meeting those of the cat for a moment. "Take good care of him," Kerel said, his eyes brimming with tears. With that, he carried his wife inside, placing her on theri bed, and closed the door behind him. He collapsed onto the bed beside Dinay and fell instantly into a dream-riddled sleep from which both he and his wife would awaken to remember nothing.
The shaman stood in the middle of a clearing deep in the woods, casting about the area for his invisible pupil. "I know you're there, Devin," he said in a scolding tone. "Now come out, before I'm forced to use my magic on you! I have something very important to talk to you about."
A youthful voice resounded throughout the clearing. "What's the magic word, Savill?"
The shaman rolled his luminous, yellow eyes. "Please, for the gods' sakes, please!" The miscreant teenager appeared suddenly behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump from nerves. "I have asked you numerous times never to do that again, have I not?" he said crossly as he turned around to face the youngster. "Asking hasn't worked yet, so now I'm telling you. Never, ever do that again, or so help me Sativa, goddess of the hunt, I will...I will..." Savill's sentence trailed off as he sought to choose the nastiest of the many punishments he knew.
"Oh, come on, old man, I was just having a bit of fun," Devin replied. "Sorry if I scared you. Now, what was it you were wanting to talk about?" They both sat down in the soft moss carpeting the forest floor with a fluid grace.
"We've decided," Savill began rather hesitantly, "that it is time for you to rejoin your people." He held out a hand to forestall the youngster's inevitable reply. "No, let me explain. You've been away too long already. You need to be a part of human society."
"But what about our people? They're human," Devin argued.
"In a way, yes. But, according to your world, Shapeshifters such as us are not human. My people's society is so different from the one you were born to inhabit that you'll have to experience it to understand it. Besides, you belong there. Therefore, we have found a wizard who not only can introduce you to the world of your birth but can also hone your magical skills better than we can. His name is Tarvalen, and I think you'll like him quite a bit. You leave for his keep in the morning, so..."
"In the morning?" Devin interjected. "But...but..."
"No buts, young man," Savill answered severely. "You're going and that's final. Now, go gather up any belongings you might want to take with you and get some rest for tomorrow's journey." Devin didn't move. "Go on, off with you!" Devin stood slowly and slunk off into the forest to skulk.
"Tarvalen can have him," Savill muttered half-heartedly. "Though we'll all miss him very much..." He faded out of sight as he finished the thought.
Devin stalked throught the forest to the small, earthen house he'd made for himself a few years before. Once inside, he began packing his few belongings into a bag made of strong vines and leaves. Every so often, he would reach up and finger the small, silver key on the chain around his neck and wonder for the millionth time what his real parents were like. Finally, he finished packing, and, exhausted from the day's work, collapsed onto the rush mat he used for a bed and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
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The Third Chapter
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