Chapter 1: Outcast

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"Leif," said the judge, "this council finds you guilty of crimes against peace. Your sentence..." The judge swallowed. "...I'm sorry, Leif, but your sentence must be banishment."

Leif's family gasped in unison. The strangers of his village looked on with faces of pity and sorrow.

Leif, the young lupine, stood firm. His eyes, one green and one silver, met the judge's gaze with equanimity. His canine muzzle stayed level, and his fluffy white tail swayed unworriedly behind him. His arms were folded loosely in front of his fur-covered chest, his pointy ears perked up and listened, and his digitigrade legs stood firm.

Leif stood in the circle of notched obelisks that had served as a forum for seventeen generations. The judge and her advisers sat on a carved stone dais in front of him, and the rest of the tribe packed onto a long bench far behind him. Aside from these, there was nothing here but ragged tundra grass, frosty northern air and the silver sky above. Under the eyes of most of his tribe, Leif commanded himself to stay calm.

"Have you anything to say for yourself, Leif?" asked the judge.

"Yes," said Leif. "Don't feel bad about this."

He paused to let that sink in.

"I'm not sure if I regret what I did," Leif continued, "but you have every right to punish me for it. There hasn't been war in the mountains for a hundred and twelve years; there's no reason to risk it by keeping me around. The more I think about what I've done, the more I realize that, one way or another, I probably wasn't going to be here in the mountains much longer."

Leif's family gaped with renewed shock. He could sense their anguish from where he stood.

"I want to see the world," Leif proclaimed. "If I could do this all over again, I probably wouldn't have committed any crime. I think I would have skipped straight to leaving."

"You... what?" sputtered someone behind him.

Leif turned, and his mother stood up tearfully, her ears lain miserably back.

"Why?" his mother moaned. "Why are you leaving us? What's wrong with the home you have? What's wrong with us?"

Leif heaved a heavy sigh.

"Nothing," he said. "You didn't do anything wrong. All I want to do is thank you- all of you."

Everyone fell silent.

"Mom," Leif began, "thanks for believing in me. When I broke my leg when I was a cub, you told me the two things I needed to know the most: that I was strong enough get through it, and that, if I wasn't, you had my back.

"And, Dad, thanks for being there for me. When I needed you, there was nothing you wouldn't drop to come and help me, and, when I just needed to be alone, there was nothing that couldn't wait until I was ready to talk again.

"And Tór? Thanks for being a good little brother. Learning to hunt together was the happiest time of my life, and I'll never forget who taught me how to use throwing knives."

At this, Tór broke into tears, crushing himself to the open arms of his mother. As Leif watched, his heart bled.

"I'll miss you all," Leif finished, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. "And if I could come back some day, I would."

"Very well..." the judge concluded. "Leif, you are aware that you have a day to gather your possessions?"

"I do. And, if you'll excuse me, I intend to do just that."

"You are excused, Leif."

Later, Leif's parents stood numbly outside their hut while Leif rummaged through it, gathering his things. Neither of them knew what to think. Between them, Tór sniveled and whimpered, struggling to hold himself together. Inevitably, he broke into tears again and ran for the hut.

"Leif!" Tór wailed, bursting in. "Leif! Why are you doing this?"

Inside, Leif geared up for a long journey. A tight, heavy loincloth hugged his waist, with meager food supplies hanging from his belt in sacks behind him. Across his chest, he wore another belt that held his trusty handmade rope, bone knife and five iron throwing spikes, while a spear hung on his back. His posture was straight, but his face was solemn, and his tail hung limply.

"I'm not doing it to hurt anyone, Tór," said Leif. "I don't-"

Before he could finish, Tór threw his arms around his older brother.

"Why did you do it?" Tór whimpered. "Why couldn't you just go? Then you could come back whenever you wanted."

"I should have," sighed Leif. "I just didn't realize I wanted to leave until I had to. As soon as I learned to read those letters the humans use, I had to know what that book was saying. As soon as I knew what that book was saying, I had to build that catapult. As soon as I had it built, I wanted to see it in action, but I knew I couldn't. For that, I would have had to leave here. And, by the time I realized that, they found the catapult, and the choice was made for me."

"But... I don't understand. Why is that a good thing? How is any of this okay?"

"That catapult never should have existed here. If it had, someone would have only used it to destroy. I'm the same way, Tór. I'm not a violent person, but I'm the kind who was born to do the world's dirty work, and there's just none of that to be done here. If I stayed, I'd just get restless. I've been that way before; it's no way to live, and it's no way to act around the people you love. This is what's better for everyone."

"You're... you're like the catapult? But... I don't understand. They burned the catapult! You don't... they shouldn't have..."

"No, no, not like that," said Leif, with a chortle. "But there are problems in the world that that catapult could have solved, in the right hands. I'm like that, too. I could have been a craftsman here, or a tanner, or a lumberjack... but I'm only really happy when I'm protecting people- when someone's being mean and I'm the one who can stop them. Remember when we saw Jens being bullied by those other guys? Stopping them just felt right. I've never done anything else that felt so natural."

"So you'll be stopping bullies?"

"Murderers, thieves, savages... there are all kinds of bullies out there. The world outside the mountains is a messed-up place, Tór. And I want to be there to help."

Tór was speechless.

"You'll understand eventually. Someday, you'll find something that makes you feel alive. Something that makes you feel like a god in a mortal body. When you feel that, then you'll know how I feel when I'm out in the world."

"I'll find out what it is. I promise you, Leif."

"You don't have to promise me anything, Tór. Not one thing." Leif tousled his brother's ears, then strode out of the hut and waved to his tribe. Then he turned south and left the mountains forever.

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