The Night Trials

By Johnnie Ruffin

Since the Great Battle there has been peace between the shape-shifting black leopards known as the Caanlin. In Gylman Ruse, where the last great chief died and gave birth to this lasting peace, a monster has risen that drains life from its victims. Join the Caanlin as they journey to protect their people from mythical creatures, civil war, insurrection, and sickness in Caanlin Running.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johnnie Ruffin
• Release date: Sep 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301396726

Johnnie Ruffin

Johnnie Ruffin, M.Sc. is an optimist, a writer, and a Software Engineer. He first published his short story "Khory's Power" with "A Place To Enter" in the early 90's, which introduced his shape-shifting black leopards known as the Caanlin to the world. The second full-length novel about the Caanlin, The Broken Peace, is his most recent addition.

Book preview

The Night Trials

Volume I of the Caanlin Running Series

by

Johnnie Ruffin, M.Sc.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

The Delmarian Influence

Copyright © 2013 by Johnnie Ruffin, M.Sc.

Other Books by Johnnie Ruffin:

Brat

The Blade & The Heart

The Night Trials: Volume I of Caanlin Running

The Broken Peace: Volume II of of Caanlin Running

Caanlin Rising

The Liar And Other Short Stories

*Forthcoming:

*Caanlin Running Volume III: Waking The One God (Conclusion)

*Book of Prophecy Book One: Nature’s Need

*Book of Prophecy Book Two: Saviour

*Book of Prophecy Book Three: The Salescian King (Conclusion)

Chapter One

The Kit That Would Not Die

Seylene covered the squealing kit with her body as the rocks cascaded off her back and shoulders.

Give us the child, Seylene! a plump, dark-skinned woman screeched at her. It is an abomination! Let us drown it once and for all.

The pelt of rocks from the crowd of dark-skinned females had stopped. Seylene scanned the faces of friends and family that she had known all her life. Their eyes were sunken, livid, desperate, and scared. She knew them all well enough to smell and see the fear in them.

Her mother stepped forward. Just give us the child, my little kit. No one blames you, but the child must die.

Her sister, Yelerin, also came close to her, extending her arms, I’ll do it myself.

A sigh and a single tear ran down Seylene’s cheek. You think I haven’t tried to drown it? You think I haven’t put my hands over its mouth and nose to stop the cries?

Both sister and mother stepped back, the smell of fear and disgust hung in the air. Seylene wanted to shout that they had no right to be disgusted by her words. Moments ago they wanted to throw the infant into a pyre.

It doesn’t eat. It hasn’t tasted my milk once. It doesn’t grow. Three cycles and it has remained a kit, and you think it will be easy to kill!

Then what do we do, Yelerin muttered from the crowd. The cries…the noise of it… she beat her chest, my heart breaks! It is too much!

The plump, dark woman that pelted her before with stones and screeched in her face, extended her arms, her tone softened, give me the child and we will throw it down Figman’s Ravine and be done with it.

A gasp escaped more than a few lips, but no one protested.

No one, except Seylene, no. I know what I have to do now. I should have done it from the first. I will take her to her father.

Dark eyes looked toward the high peak that seemed to cut into the moon against the night sky. Slowly, one by one, the crowd of females took to the forms of black leopards and vanished into the grouping of trees behind them.

Mother paused and stared at her daughter once more as a single piercing scream came from between her breasts, and then she too was a black leopard that returned to the quiet of the dark trees.

Yelerin scrubbed at her wet face. She embraced Seylene and the child with her lanky body, and kissed them both. I just wanted to stop both your suffering. None of us feel good about what happened here this night.

Seylene shook her head. I can understand my own weakness, but I cannot forgive the weakness of the tribe, my family, or even you Yelerin. Lassandra keeps this one.

Yelerin inclined her head. I am ashamed we could not honor you both, and a black leopard bounded into the trees behind, leaving Seylene alone.

Turning her back to her people, Seylene focused her steps on the peak in the distance. Her heart pounded strongly and she could feel the kit snuggling between her breasts and breathing easily.

All the while, she remembered Kasin and how she had been given to him. She had been no more to him than a servant, like the others.

We will make a child, he had smirked. Even then he had great command of the ancient magicks that no other Caanlin knew.

The peak had only been a mound of dirt then, and only Kasin knew that beneath it lay old Magicks. Hundreds had gathered at the mound as he pulled out the lost Book of Gzan.

I will wake the One God! he had told them.

As he read from the volume, the mound grew, and Seylene, the kit just forming in her gut, ran away in terror. All those that remained were never seen again.

The Night Trials began a few moons after the peak appeared. The Caanlin began calling it Kasin’s Peak. The story—and that’s what it had become to some—was called Kasin’s Folly because Kasin had reached to far, and now the peak held him tight.

Seylene believed anyone that climbed the peak to prove themself a man or woman was a fool. Many died, but of the few that lived, came away with some of the old magick. The same magick that destroyed Kasin, and created the kit she carried now.

As she climbed the peak where Kasin had vanished, the cold threatened to consume her, but the fire of her anger kept numb legs and arms moving.

The kit’s cries slowly subsided into sobs until there was only the gentle breathing against her breasts. She heaved deep breaths that tore into her throat and made her teeth shiver with the cold air that invaded her lungs.

Each step was measured and forced. The muffled cries came again as they had for far too long, becoming a miserable dirge that kept a measured pace the higher she traversed the peak’s rough path. The cold winds became freezing and the freezing winds became rocks of hail that cut into her flesh.

She could barely see past the icy rocks that assailed her. Unable to keep track of the sky above, she held her head down, watching the blinding white snow below herself without any notice of how time passed.

She stumbled, aware that her legs were numb from the cold of the knee-high snow that dampened her woolen trousers.

Mists began to shroud the snow drifts, but she did not slow her progress. Taking torturous step after step she made her way blindly.

Damp boots shook snow onto a green carpet.

Seylene lifted her head.

The rays of a warm sun brightened her weak spirits. The hood that covered her features behind shadows was thrown back to reveal a dark skinned face with black, damp hair. Her brown eyes were wide and dumb-founded, questioning the sun's appearance. She closed her eyes, letting numb features tingle with the warmth that now infused her nose and cheeks.

Seylene turned to take in the new landscape. Evenly cut grass sat before her and a strong earthy smell assailed her nose. A wall of mists blocked the snowy path from which she came. The ledge at the edge of the peak remained though it sat farther away, allowing for fields of sweet onion grass that only made her head reel and her stomach turn.

A few steps more into the clearing revealed a black doorway that hovered a few feet from the ground. The woman took a deep breath, squeezing the bundle hidden beneath her cloak in reassurance and stepped into