The bright cry of the horns cut any chance of conversation short. Sound burst through the door and windows, announcing it was time for the eaglets to gather and leave for the Covert.

Her parents' gazes fell on her, nodding encouragingly. They cleaned and stood up, grabbing their things. Anathar and Rohat came to settle in their respective places; upon her mother's head and her father's broad shoulders, talons retracting. While her father adjusted his hold on young Rhona, her mother strapped a bag across her shoulders.

The redroot had left her mouth dry. She watched as they got ready, a hand coming up to brush her ceremonial braids. She breathed deep, and as the sun finally rose high in the bright blue sky, the family left their home.

Her eyes immediately met with groups of people following the paths to the plaza, eager chatter in the air as the families followed the few eaglets with enthusiastic steps. She recognized some of her aermates with their families, though she didn't know their names.

She squeezed her mother's hand as they walked amidst the gathering crowd. The poor thing jumped in her skin when her shoulder was tapped.

"I got some free time!" It was her brother Orwe who said this, after having almost scared her wings off. His phoenix was absent, likely stayed back to cover his shift.

Ataria gasped and then exhaled, golden brown wings ruffling in her annoyance, as her older brother wrapped an arm around her shoulders and her mother chortled.

The iron bracer dug into her scapula, but she ignored the feeling as Orwe conversed animatedly with their parents, occasionally throwing in a question for her or an encouraging phrase.

As usual, her older brother bore the garments of the sentinels; tough leather armor over thin chainmail, accompanied by leg and arm bracers that covered up to his elbows and knees. You couldn't miss the sword, of course; a long claymore blade, fit to his size and agility.

Ataria was half-tempted to make a grab for the pommel, but opted not to, as Orwe winked at her.

Orwe's wings were black, like their mother's, a dull black that could have been dark gray. In honor of the Initiation, like all other sentinels, he pulled his brown tresses into a high ponytail. It was just another way to show their importance in their community, and a somewhat strange tactic to encourage juveniles to join the sentinels.

It wasn't like the village didn't have enough new sentinels every six months, not at all. The problem was more in the low number of juveniles the village had.

The village was too small now, and there weren't enough children to fill the positions left vacant by those that had gone from the village or died.

Luckily for them, Ataria was going to join, and she was determined to be the best sentinel they had seen in the last three decades. Of course, right after the Selection.

They walked together to the plaza, where the crowd and other eaglet families were gathering. The finished stage for what would be their coming of age left Ataria breathless, even though she had seen it done many times before for other eaglets.

Perhaps it felt different this time because it was for her own arthal.

Ataria goggled at the plaza; just a few hours ago, they had still been running around struggling to finish decorating, but everyone had outdone themselves, per usual.

The altar had been set up on a stage in the center of the plaza, surrounded by a colorful array of flowers that exuded a potent summer scent.

An astounding variety of phoenix feathers lined the stone altar, some others decorated the ceremonial torches' edges.

Ataria'd have made a bet with Prota that she could pick out which feathers belonged to her parents' phoenixes among the bunch donated for the decorations.

Drums vibrated in her chest. The two musicians sitting beside the altar reproduced the echoes of a strong beat with a sonorous quality. One of their powerful traditional drumming rhythms for ceremonies.

Beyond the plaza's altar stood the Gathering's closed doors, brilliant flames and bird figures painted on the wood by the juveniles earlier. Bright and joyful colors reassured her from every angle.

It was like the entire village was telling the eaglets that it'd be alright, that they were going to be brilliant.

Behind the altar stood the elders of the village, the oldest members of the fourteen bloodlines. Old Cath was among them, picking her teeth absently, while Gorth grimaced and shielded his eyes from her poor manners. The other elders ignored Old Cath's antics, too old to deal with it.

Ataria's arth stood in front of them and the altar, at the very front of the makeshift stage. Arda's own robes were rust colored, nothing like the cream robes of his eaglets; instead of the open wide sleeves, his own reached just to his elbow and wrapped tight around his arms. His phoenix Ridris perched on his staff, staring out into the crowd as unfazed as his ekrye-tied.

Ataria gulped. There was her arth, just waiting for all his students to arrive before taking them all to the Covert. She knew the moment Ridris had spotted her, the stern phoenix's eyes focusing on her for a moment, and then he acknowledged her with a nod.

She exhaled, fiddling with a braid.

"Stop it sister, you'll ruin those braids mother worked on." Orwe whispered, still having his arm around her shoulders. Honey eyes like their mother's, he gave her a reassuring look, leaning his head on hers.

Her mother and father stood behind them, holding hands and wings slightly curled towards their children, separating them a bit from the rest of the crowd.

Ataria sighed, but relaxed a bit, even as the drumming grew stronger, and then ground to a halt.

Then the elders straightened up at once, wings stretched out slightly, and spoke in eerie unison, "Today, we celebrate another Selection and Initiation. As we do every year, we let our eaglets find their phoenix and welcome them into our community as part of this flock!"

The old croaky voices of the fourteen elders scratched her ears, some deep, others high pitched. Cheers from the crowd followed their speech, flapping of wings and applause accompanying the happy shouting.

"They will leave as one, and return as two!"

"Upholding traditions and honoring our ancestors, they'll behave as it becomes an Eagle-Person!"
Ataria smiled at Old Cath's addition, some rolling their eyes. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to flap up to the stage.

"Now, we call for the eaglets belonging to this arth! Come forth!"

And so her parents kissed her head. Orwe almost strangled her in a hug, and she kissed baby Rhona's forehead. Her family grinned at her, all proud and happy for her, nudging her towards the stage.

"Go eaglet." Her father's deep voice rumbled, smiling under all the beard. A deep sense of nostalgia rattled her chest when she looked at small Rhona in his arms.

Ataria beamed and opened her wings, flying above the crowd with her aermates and flapping to the stage, lowering herself onto the wood as the cheering grew deafening. She waited for her turn, as others landed before her, and then she bowed to Arda, stretching out her wings completely.

The young man's reply was a gentle smile, but small. He nodded to her, "I know you as mine."

Ataria's eyes sparkled, and she lined up to the side with the rest of the arthal, giddier now that this part was over with.

After all the arthal gathered and lined up at Arda's sides, it was time to leave for the Covert. Arda spread his own wings as if to shelter his students, and spoke for all to hear, "Say goodbye to your eaglets now, and prepare for their return as no longer one half of a whole!"

The crowd around the stage cheered, encouraging and supporting as much as some proud boasting for their eaglets. On the stage, the children vibrated with excitement, some more obviously than others, with fluttering wings and balancing their weight from foot to foot.

Ataria spotted her cousin Prota and his phoenix Proma in the crowd, waving her goodbye enthusiastically as he wrapped an arm around Orwe's shoulders. She looked at her parents, her siblings, and her cousin, all waving her goodbye with wide grins, yelling her name. Her parents' eyes glistened with what she suspected were tears, and moved by it, her own golden eyes glossed over.

The eaglet bowed her head to her family. At Arda's signal, the eaglets spread their wings and soared into the sky, led by Arda. The crowd followed them on foot until they reached the forest's edge, still saying their farewells and cheering for them.

Ataria looked for her own family and waved goodbye with her brightest smile, feeling warm and aglow as the arthal landed close to the forest edge, and started walking.

She kept looking back at her family and the phoenixes; at her parents' black and brown wings, little Rhona's silhouette in her father's arms, Orwe's lean frame and Prota's stout figure, until the trees hid them from her view.

"Watch your step eaglets and follow me. Wings closed." Arda ordered firmly, but no less gently than his greeting to them before.

The children obeyed, tucking in their wings and following Arda as he walked ahead of them, all fifteen children lining up behind him; a long caravan of young travelers with the destination of adulthood just beyond their corner.

Their families lost sight of them, hidden by the cover of the mountain trees as they began the trek to the Covert.

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In a world no longer welcoming to the Eagle-People, what can they do but adapt as the world changes around them, or worse; a threat comes knocking down their doors.