the rituals

[rituals]

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[atrb=background,http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb359/rdog25/borderbg.png] Wolves came to Cittagazze at the beginning of the first age, which, in man's terms, would have been around the end of the medieval era. They sought a place to hide from man's expansion, and this land, protected by a vast mountain range on one side and an ocean on the other, seemed to be the ideal place to settle. Originally, they had been four separate packs, but had banded together in their times of trouble and need. But now that they had reached their destination, they had no reason to stay as one for any longer, and the large pack dissolved, becoming four packs once more. But not all were happy about going their separate ways; some suggested that they hold a peaceful meeting once every season, and this proposal was quickly agreed upon. On the solstices and the equinoxes, the packs would meet in peace and friendship. And so, in spite of the rift growing between the packs once more, in spite of the tensions between them as they fought for land and prey, they held their first meeting on the summer solstice. Predictably, it did not go as previously planned. Anger was rife among the packs that night, the wolves still vying for territory and the best hunting grounds, and fighting broke out quickly. A night that should have been peaceful quickly turned into a bloodshed, and they may have all killed each other off had lightning not struck the middle of their meeting ground and silenced them all. But it wasn't the lightning that had shocked them into stillness. No, their shock came from looking at each other and taking in the changes that had occurred in the blink of an eye. Wolves who had previously been jet black or pure white were now a vast rainbow of colors. A few wolves had sprouted wings between their shoulder blades, while others had horns protruding from their heads. Even the ones who looked normal weren't, for when they opened their mouths to exclaim, they breathed fire or ice or wind. The strange lightning had brought magic to their lands. The packs retreated to their various homes to hone their newly-found skills. With each litter that was born, more and more magical abilities were developed. The new generations sometimes had the mixed power of their parents, or would develop a completely different magic altogether. It was as if the possibilities were endless. Soon, magic took its place in every day living as though it had always been a part of their lives. And yet, it was also a curse. Border battles became steadily more and more violent with each new power that was discovered. Because of the high hostility, the gatherings were suspended until clear borders were established. Many seasons passed before an agreement was settled upon. Avaritia and Sapientia took the lands west of the river, while Exultatia and Inritia took the eastern territories for themselves. Upon this agreement, it was suggested that the meetings could be reinstated, and as the tensions had dwindled to near-nothing, the pack leaders saw no need to put a stop to it. And thus, the second meeting began, long after the first, and with an entirely different outcome. They met in actual peace this time, but it soon turned into a game. A test of talent, strength, and endurance as the youth wolves battled each other in a display of skill to showcase their powers. As the moon rose in the dark sky, a fire-elemental breathed rings of fire across the plains, and the wolves danced merrily amongst the flames, twisting and leaping to the sound of their own howls. Like a ritual, of sorts... But winter is upon them, and prey has grown scarce. Will their peace be able to last in time for the next ritual, or will it all crumble apart? And more importantly, in these times of hunger and desperation...who's side will you choose? FIGHT, or FLIGHT?