The Lost Tribe

Chapter One

          "Caelan is not worthy of any of the Tribes. His blood is too murky and mixed. Instead of sorting him into a Tribe we aren't certain he fits into, we should give him no mark and let him be an outcast," Scilla said, her tone calm and firm.

          Even the sound of her voice rubbed Alaric the wrong way, and it took everything in him to hold back a snappy response, for the time being. Alaric watched as Scillas sea-blue eyes scanned across the rest of the Council of the gods. Alaric could tell she was waiting for the slightest sign of defiance. Her eyes were narrowed, and her chin was tilted up, an air of arrogance radiating off of her. She had always been controlling and condescending.

          "Mixed? You make him sound like a damn mutt when you say that. It's disgusting. Though, coming from you, that's civil," Alaric snapped.

          His broad figure tensed at Scilla's condescending tone. She had tied her white-blond hair into a bun, not a single strand out of place. Even her hair showed how much of a stuck up tight-ass she was. He'd tried his best to stay calm, but he couldn't. Their conflict went decades back, as did the conflict between their Tribes down on earth. Alaric could feel her peering eyes burning into him, annoyed by his blatant disrespect.

          "His parents are both from your disgrace of a Tribe, or what remains of it. As far as I'm concerned, that makes him a mutt. I wouldn't dare put such a burden on my own Tribe, or any of the other's for that matter," Scilla retaliated.

          Her voice remained cool as ice. Alaric, being the God of the Herminius Tribe, did not appreciate her snide comment. His grip tightened on the arms of his chair. His blue eyes filled with wrath like that of a brewing storm as he opened his mouth to speak.

          "He's part of the Piscis Tribe now, and he's become a real fit amongst em'. Why move him to another Tribe? He's got family, he's happy, and he ain't posin' a threat to no one," Destin butted in with a shrug of his broad, muscular shoulders.

          Alaric clenched his jaw and glared with disapproval as Destin interrupted him. To be fair, Destin wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Alaric had always found his personality and intelligence like that of a child. The wild, golden blonde curls, baby blue eyes and puppy-like expressions he wore didn't help either.

          "Caelan may have grown up in your tribe for most of his life, Destin, but that doesn't mean he's a perfect fit there. We sort somebody based on their personality, values, beliefs, and skills," Scilla said.

          "Nobody's ever a perfect fit. Humans are far more complex than six or seven personalities. I agree that Caelan's personality consists of traits from all the Tribes. What I don't agree with is making him an outcast, it doesn't suit him. Plus, claiming Caelan should not be sorted into any of the Tribes just because of the one his parents belonged to is hypocritical. Blood and family have no impact," Calypso reminded.

          Alaric had always liked the Goddess of the Scorpionem Tribe. Calypso wasn't afraid to voice her opinion, but she expressed it in a controlled and mature manner. Her posture was tall and proud as she met Scilla's scornful gaze. Her chocolate brown eyes that matched the colour of her hair were firm, but void of emotion.

          "If you're against him being an outcast, then do you mind blessing us with whatever brilliant solution you may have?" Premislaus chimed in.

          He wore a sarcastic smile on his face as he looked at Calypso with fake intrigue, hazel eyes glistening with menace. The black hair that laid in a mess on his forehead emphasized the paleness of the skin beneath it. Calypso scoffed at his attitude.

          "How typical of you to take Scilla's side, Premislaus. You've always been a suck up, but I had hoped to see better from you. My mistake," Calypso said.

          Her tone remained professional, but her sharp glare gave away her disapproval. The God of the Anguis Tribe had always gotten on her nerves. Today was no exception.

          "Regardless, my solution is simple; that Caelan go into the Tribe he belongs in," Calypso said.

          "Which is?" Premislaus prompted, raising an eyebrow.

          "The Herminius Tribe," silence fell over the gods and the tension increased tenfold.

          The atmosphere was heavy enough to cut with a knife. It was the suggestion that they had all been waiting for, but had not yet been voiced. Alaric wanted Caelan to be sorted into the Herminius Tribe as well. He wasn't the first person Alaric had tried to sort into there, either. This time, however, he wasn't the only God with this opinion. Alaric smirked with pleasure at the scene that was unfolding before him.

          "You cannot be serious, Calypso," Scilla said.

          Her tone dripped with disgust, and her nose wrinkled, as though the thought made her want to hurl. Every time Alaric pressed for somebody to be part of the Herminius Tribe, Scilla shut it down. She demanded control over the gods, and for many years, nobody challenged it. Until now, that is.

          "I agree," a deep voice boomed.

          Adolfus, the God of the Lupus Tribe, had spoken few words on the topic. He had never been the chatty type. His arms crossed in front of his chest and a thick mass of dark brown hair covered his shoulders. Sky blue eyes watched flames flicker in the center of the circles of thrones. Adolfus, like most of the gods, found Scilla's arrogance and over-controlling nature tiresome. Otherwise, Alric doubted he would have agreed to help put Scilla back in her place. Alaric chuckled as Scilla took a deep, slow breath to calm herself. The situation must have finally dawned on her.

          "Who else believes that Caelan Brock is fit to be a member of the Herminius Tribe?" Scilla asked.

          She looked straightforward and away from the other gods. Alaric was the first to raise his hand, almost in sync with Calypso. The third was Adolfus, and with hesitance, Destin followed. Alaric understood why Destin still wished for Caelan to stay in the Piscis Tribe. He was glad that for once, Destin picked up on the social hints that it wasn't going to happen.

          The only one who hadn't raised their hand was Caridad, the Goddess of the Arietes Tribe. She was the timidest of the gods, and she disliked conflict. Alaric was sure that her hesitance was caused by the overwhelming hostility that filled the room. Skittish green eyes glanced at the gods as she lifted her thin and pale arm before looking back down, ginger locks hiding her face. The only two who had not agreed were Premislaus and Scilla. Not that Alaric or anybody was surprised. Scilla stood without another word and left her throne. Caelan was now a member of the Herminius Tribe. The rest of the gods left their thrones as well, the last two being Alaric and Calypso. They shared a brief look, grins creeping onto their faces. Everything was starting to fall into place. The fire in the center flickered out once all the gods left, leaving dying embers as its remains.