After a couple more minutes of frantic sprinting, he finally saw his destination draw near: a large traditional, colonial-style clubhouse. Its roof consisted of tar shingles, with light green clapboard siding wrapping around the exterior, complemented by a dark green and red trim. Large shuttered windows lined the entire clubhouse. The giant rectangular property had a dense fence of dark American arborvitae around its perimeter. An arched dark brown varnished garden trellis covered in ivy led to a stone walkway. A slightly rundown sign sat in front of it. It read:

THE PHOENIX CLUB

Private Meeting Hall

Members only

Tim ran up the concrete steps, skipping every other step, and onto the tall overhanging porch that was supported by four equidistantly spaced dark green columns. A single bronze lantern dangled in front of the entryway above the red-stained wooden door. The blonde-haired receptionist, stationed to the left, wrinkled her nose as she watched Tim barge through the door,  run down the main hallway and straight through a set of double doors. She turned to whisper nasty comments to her co-worker — or so Tim imagined.

The middle-aged security guard squinted as Tim barreled down the hall. “Hey! No running in the hallway!” he yelled.

Tim skidded to a stop and power-walked the rest of the way towards the giant old doors of the ceremony hall. Staring down at him were two Blood guards blocking entry into the hall: a Bombay cat and a Scottish Terrier, both wearing deep blue poncho-style ceremonial robes with wooden shoulder pauldrons engraved with the security emblem: a flaming phoenix in the shape of a shield. All he could do was flash a sheepish smile.

The Elders continued to sing their mesmerizing hymns, although their voices had grown quite hoarse as they waited for what felt like eons for Terranis to finally complete the forge. Sarah stared longingly at the giant doors, hoping that Tim would miraculously arrive before she took her oath.

Will he make it? I don’t think Terranis can drag it out any longer, she thought. Soon, she would have to signal for Terranis to stop before the Elders keeled over from exhaustion.

Heh, finally decided to show up? Terranis asked telepathically, without revealing any loss of concentration on his task.

The doors creaked loudly as they opened slightly to allow Tim, a bit winded and beat up, to enter. He ducked down, trying to sneak to his seat inconspicuously. His effort was to no avail; disapproving looks were shot at him as he made his way to his seat. As Sarah released the breath she had been holding for the last minute, Terranis resisted the urge to shake his head as Tim gave him an exasperated smile as he finished forging.

Tim crawled into his seat next to Markus, hoping that only the crowd had noticed his noisy entry. A cold tingle crept down his spine, and he knew right away, as he glanced up, that the Head Elder had cast a stern, icy gaze in his direction as he continued to sing. 

After the final verse, the singing abruptly stopped. The stage shook as Terranis made his way in front of Sarah, carrying a small crimson-red cushion with a shiny new Creed Crest laid upon it. As he stood there, he then turned towards the Elders and gave a nod of respect.

The Head Elder silently gestured to Sarah with his hand. “Candidate, you may recite the Blood Oath,” he announced in a croaky voice. His voice conveyed a lifetime spent chronicling the history of his people and witnessing the start, and often the end, of a Keeper’s journeys.

Nervous adrenaline coursed through Sarah’s body as she approached the podium, facing towards the Head Elder. She then looked out over the crowd, meeting Tim’s gaze. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she solemnly recited the sacred words:

“Ik, Sarah Thompson, solhume swah tae bay

Ah p’seery oh teer sacry,

Ah coniclay oh teer culltar,

En ah gudrine oh teer fae.

Witl ousakeh leyota,

Opah Kapuah’s neme te,

Ik selel foolhe hiz undios paku,

B’lode Uat Te”                         

Way to go, Sis. Way to go. Tim smiled proudly.

Markus patted Tim on the back, glad that he had made it. Tabitha was bawling into a tissue, and Jonathan was nodding with approval as he brushed away a single tear from his eye. Terranis presented the Creed Crest to Sarah and placed it around her neck. He took a big step back, and they bowed to each other as everyone stood up to applaud.

The whole Thompson family, Housten, Rouge, the Head Elder and the Head Blood Elder all made their way to the table to sign the official documents. Tim’s hand shook as he signed, fully aware that the Elder was watching his every move. The Head Elder only briefly smiled as he presented Sarah with her own LRP65. 

Tim, Terranis and Sarah were standing together by a corner after the ceremony had concluded. “I was so worried that you wouldn’t make it! I’m so glad you did!” Sarah exclaimed with a tired smile playing across her face; she was happy to have risen to this moment and exhausted by it at the same time. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Sis!” Tim grinned happily. Sarah gave him a big hug, and he was sorely reminded that they were almost the same height.

“You took so long to come that Sarah’s crest ended up looking much nicer than yours,” Terranis gloated with a subtle smirk.

“Ha. Ha.” Tim replied sarcastically, continuing to give a bear hug. In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the Head Elder speeding towards them. “Um. We gotta head over to the after-party, let’s go!” Tim tried to pull Sarah away.

From halfway across the room, the Head Elder’s voice boomed hoarsely, “NOT. SO. FAST.”

“Busted, bro. You’re gonna get chewed out for sure.” Sarah tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her amusement.

Tim sighed, “Well, guess I’ll take my beating like a man then.” He puffed up his chest in preparation. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“Do you think we should wait for him?” Sarah asked as Tim made his way to the Head Elder.

“No. I’m sure he’ll be late for the after-party too,” Terranis replied, still smirking. 

Although Tim was taller than the Head Elder, he appeared quite small, his back hunched in shame.

“I am so disappointed in you. What type of example are you trying to set for the new Keeper? Why are you all beaten up whenever I see you? You’re wearing a trench coat at the ceremony! Do you know why I lost my voice?”

The Head Elder continued as Sarah and Terranis made their way through the giant old solid-oak doors, which complained noisily as they pushed them open.

Haley was sitting on her couch at home, browsing through her skull-decorated phone. Jenkins sat by the table beside her, diligently peeling an orange and removing the thick pith and webbed membrane which grasped the citrus fruit. The pair were not usual cohorts, but for some reason had been drawn together in the past few hours. As though some thread had them intertwined, if only for the moment. The doctor had said her left leg was not seriously injured, but it would be bruised for a while. It was aching, but she ignored it as she scrolled through the images in her phone. There were photos of Tim loitering around Krazy Komics, selfies with Abby, and some scenery around town.

“That’s weird. Why do I feel as though something’s missing?” she asked herself. But two words kept popping into her head, pestering her, unwilling to let her forget them: Blood Oath.