When I was a cub, the only thing I wanted to be was a warrior or a monk. I studied hard upon the plains of Yliakum - what we call the \"many-tiered homeland\" in our native tongue. Our people, the Enkidukai, are strong and wise, body and mind in perfect balance and harmony. We may seem dangerous to outsiders, but within a tribe, we are a tightknit unit working in synch to stay alive and trade upon the many levels of our world.
Like any young cubling, I wanted to be like my sire and litter-mother; strong of body, tempered of mind. My sire was a warrior whose history is sung not only in our tribe, but in many others. My litter-mother is a monk, meditating often upon the Azure Sun and training to fight with foot and claw to guard her cublings. But try as I might, I found that I did not have the attentiveness for the monk-life, often fidgeting when I should be meditating, and though I can fend for myself even while weaponless, I quickly fell behind my peers in skill, to my great shame.
The warrior path was also not for me, and though I tried to wear the heavy armour and carry the great weapons of our tribe\'s finest fighters, I would lag behind. But, because I was stubborn, I would struggle onward until my body ran out of strength, and I would collapse, senseless,to the ground.
\"She-cub, know thyself,\" my litter-mother would say with a sigh as she stroked my brow with tincture to revive me.
Try as I might, I could not discover what my ancestors wished of me. Long would I gaze upon the Azure Sun and open my mind and spirit to the Great Silence for inspiration, but my heart was empty.
No...not entirely empty. My people often venture through the Tiered Homeland to other places, huge cities built by many hands, where races unlike my own - and even a few of my kind - dwell and trade and go about their business in houses made of stone. Our people find such things strange - what good is a house you cannot move? - and disdain the crime and decadence of such places, but I have always found cities intriguing, with the many sights and smells, and even though my people are of the open spaces and the Labyrinths, I still thought of the cities with longing.
It is a strange thing, when your heart calls you away from your spirit\'s learning...
Many seasons went by, and even though the Naming-Day approached, still I had no Path to declare. I was neither a warrior nor was I monk. I had learned a bit of potion-making and found it interesting, but I preferred to dabble in arts that my people consider \"impure\" - alchemy - and there are no teachers of that skill among the nomad-tribes. In desperation, I asked my sire to present me to the Mystic - the oldest and most learned of our tribe, she who can see into your soul and hold it in her hand.
I remember approaching the Mystic\'s yurt-house with misgiving, entering the stillness of the hut, dark and enclosed like a womb. A fire burned in the centre, and thick smoke bore the scent of many herbs and incense up and out into the venthole above me. Across the fire the Mystic sat, her spotted coat grey in places, but her eyes as piercing as the Sun itself.
\"Come here, she-cub, let me see thy heart.\"
I shuffled forward nervously, but the pride I have inherited from my people did not allow me to drop my gaze. The old Mystic nodded in approval as she locked her stare with my own.
\"You come to me with questions, questions in your heart of who you are, and why. But the question that you should ask yourself, cub-ling, is why you think you will fail your people if you choose a path that no-one has trodden before.\"
I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it quickly. Why argue? It occurred to me like a revelation - yes, I was ashamed. Embarassed to take a path into the city when our tribe looked upon such places with disdain. I wanted to seek my fortune, learn something more suited to my stealthy frame.
The Mystic leaned forward into the light, resting gnarled hands upon her knees, and her eyes seeming to encompass the world.
\"There are many paths, she-cub. Many ways to walk - our spirits and our hearts know which is right for us. There is no question of right or wrong. Every entity that lives and breathes in the world knows the difference, and if you spirit yearns for a path before you, then you should take it.
\"There is a path for such as yourself, though I warn you that it can be a dark one. The stealthy, the swift, those who know ways to make the body strong or weak with potion, they too have their use. You know from your teachings that darkness and light need one another - and that the only dark path is the path trodden with a dark heart.\"
The mystic stared with her great, blue eyes. \"I see no darkness in you. You may learn to poison and to kill, but if you use these skills wisely, it will bring you great honour. There is nobility in the Path of Shadows, if you stay true to what we have taught you. This may seem strange and contradictory, but you will discover the truth of what I say in time.\"
I could not speak - all that was being said to me was as if it were being plucked from my mind and translated into a message I could understand. I had always knew the answers - I had just never known the proper question.
And the Mystic smiled as understanding lit my face as bright as the Sun.
\"Mehallie - Walkabout - I name you. Take your belongings, and find the city where you can start your journey.\" And she smiled again, like an Elder-mother. \"And remember to come back to your people from time to time. Bring honour to us, and to our ancestors in the sky.\"
I bowed in our ceremonial manner - palms up before the face - and turned to exit the yurt, already making plans for my journey...
And so, I walk now toward this plaza, this bustle of life and energy, inexperienced but proud, set in what I believe, I have no fear of this adventure. Already I can hear the cachophony of many tongues speaking together interspersed with the calls of animals. I can smell meat and vegetables cooking, and hear the sound of running water. My heart is light and sings a prayer of thanks the Great Silence.
I may meet unpleasantness upon the way, but \"she whose heart is steady shall find her body does not fail her\". With my head held proud and high, my tribal markings upon my fur, I enter this new world.
