For good and evil.


It was a clear morning when Kalador woke up. He looked up at the sky with his bright blue, but sorrowfull eyes, and stood up from his bedroll. This would be the day he would face the test. The test which every member of the Inimar tribe must face. The test of blood. He stood up and looked around him. Everywhere in the village of Gennemorr there were men and women working, preparing the ceremony which would take place later that day. Many of these people greeted Kalador, when bustling past him, but this wasn’t unusual for Kalador, for his respectfull attitude and strong will and body, made him a respected member of the tribe.
But not for long.
The test of Blood would see if the heart of every tribemember was pure and good, for the tribe of Inimar would not have evil in their ranks. The Blood test would see to that.
And that was what Kalador feared, for he knew that he would fail. He knew becouse of what he had done, and the very thought tore at his mind, tore like a thorn with a will of evil. He was afraid. He was afraid of being cast out of the tribe, from his friends and from his family. He was afraid of the shame he would bring, to see his mother’s heartbroken eyes. But most of all was he afraid of the darkness in his heart.
He was afraid of it more than death itself.
Something woke him up from his musings, a familiar voice.
“Kalador”, said his friend Miln.
Kalador quickly looked up to see his best friends face, his bright and cheerfull face. “Hi Miln”, he answered dullly.
“Whoa, whats gotten into you? This is supposed to be a happy day, remember!”, Miln said cheerfully.
“Yeah, i guess. I’m just ne
nerveus, i suppose”, Kalador replied, kicking a rock at his feet.
“Well, come to the feasting hall, they made great breakfest becouse of the ceremony, and Unir knows your going to need your strength”, Miln said.
That comment shot a quick pain string in Kalador’s heart, for he had not even praied to Unir for too long now. He didn’t know why, but whenever he tried to pray, it made him noucius.
“Let’s go then.”, Kalador said, and started pacing the familiar steps towards the feasting hall.
From inside he could smell the sweet smell of bacon and deer meat, and he walked inside. He could at least have one final good meal, for he was sure he would not be there for the evening meal. He grabbed himself some food and absent mindedly sat at a bench to eat his meal. Miln chatted with him and their friends but Kalador just nodded along. He made the impression that he was in deep though about something very important, but all Kalador could think about was that after today he would never talk to his friends, never again be a part of the tribe. Never again….

The morning flew by and before Kalador knew, he was being led by his father into the ceremonial chapel of Unir. He saw the high priests sitting beside the sacred altar, which held two statues of each hand of Unir, blessing his beleavers, but the sight shook Kalador to his bones. He was, along side 6 other 18 year olds, to step in front of the altar, and resite the prayer every member had been tought from the day they were born. His father whispered in his ear: “Good luck son”
He just nodded, then sat down alongside the rest of the group and waited for the sign to come. The high priests started to chant and everyone in the chapel, about 130 people, sat quietly and watched.
Now each of the 6 stood up, one at a time, and walked to the altar, resiting the prayer and returnin to their seats.
At long last Kalador stood up, shaking ad sweating, and walked towards the altar. He had the prayer in his mind but something very different came out. He couldnt say a word. And immidiatly he started thinking about what had happened the week before. At that same moment, Unir’s hands began to bleed, and every person in the room gasped. But Kalador couldnt hear a thing. His vision blackened…

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Hér endar fyrsta parti af sögunni For good and Evil, framhöldin munu koma bráðlega.
Afsakið allar stafsetningarvillur.