Warrior Cats Warrior Ceremony Novels & Stories

Or told herself she had, which came out the same most nights. The ceremony went the way it always went. Elders called names by bloodline, oldest first, and one by one the unmated wolves crossed the open ground to where Alpha Kade Voss stood beneath the birch arch, close enough for him to catch a scent, close enough for the Goddess to say something if she had anything to say. She never did. Not for anyone Wren had watched go up there in five years. She was still watching some warrior's daughter make that walk when Sable's hand closed around her wrist, too hard.

They took everything from me. But I was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting..The door burst open hours later. Morning light streamed in, harsh and bright. Two guards grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet. "Time for the ceremony," one grunted. They dragged me through the house, past the rooms I'd once called home, past Henry's bedroom where I could hear him laughing with Catherine. They pulled me outside where the entire pack had gathered. Hundreds of wolves stood in a circle around a raised platform. Richard stood at the center, looking every inch the Alpha in his formal robes. Catherine stood beside him, wearing a white dress like a bride.

Kade clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Rise, Beta of Darkfang.” Around them, the warriors stomped their feet, claws against stone, a thunderous rhythm that echoed from the mountain down into the valley. In that moment, the mountain was no longer mourning its dead. It was preparing for war. As the roars died down, Kade turned to the council. The final part of the ceremony, strategic delegation, was about to begin. They walked through the halls carved into the spine of the fortress, torches lighting their path. Maps had already been unfurled in the war chamber, stretching across a long stone table etched with the territories surrounding Darkfang.

The last time he was this restless was the night of my mating ceremony where I got my mate, Erika. It seemed like I was having the same euphoria and my wolf was not helping matters either. My sentinels were all warming up for the hunt as they began to choose their best huntsman. I was looking at them keenly. A guard brought a chair for me to sit down while they started their hunting. After a while of hunting, the people beat down the last winner out of the six warriors selected. According to the rules I had to compete with the winner. "Congratulations, Captain Jake. It's open for us now, right?" I said, stepping forward.

She smirked, making everyone at the table laugh. Then dad asked Thalia, “Are you ready for the warrior ceremony today?” “Yes. I would like to know if there is anything I am supposed to know to say though. Aiden and I spoke a lot about what it is but not about how it is supposed to go.” She responded. “Alright, after breakfast, let’s go to Aiden’s office and then Rebel and I will go over it with you while he prepares for the ceremony.” He replied. “Sounds good. Thanks, dad. It was my oversight.” I said.

Left alone largely because we have nothing anyone wants. But there is the tradition, all warriors are introduced to the new wolves. They are taken on a run from town to town before returning and joining training the next day. Every pup is taught the perils of straying from home when they first shift. We spend the year between then and the ceremony waiting anxiously for the day our wolves are known to the pack and can run openly. So we sit and wait and wonder if we will make our kids sit and wait when it is their time. Will we forget our wolves straining to be let free and keep our children bound to a tradition?

“You want to come to a ceremony honouring the people my father helped kill?” “I want to come to a ceremony honouring the people who should have changed the world. Who would have, if they’d lived. Whose vision I’m trying to fulfil now.” He was quiet for a moment. “And I want to support you. If you’ll let me.” “Yes. I’d like you there.” The month passed quickly. My pack helped me prepare. Choose a dress. Practiced my speech. Reminded me to breathe when anxiety got too high. The ceremony was formal. Held at Council headquarters. Alphas from across the continent attended. I wore a silver dress that matched my wolf form. Kaden wore a suit and looked uncomfortably handsome.

It was just something his brother did, and he and Lilypaw would often get the better of him for it. "I believe now is a good time more than ever for us to hold the warrior ceremony," Petalstar meowed when she emerged from her den and stood at the top of the Highledge. Flamepaw watched her expectantly as he noticed how eager Hazelpaw and Kestrelpaw looked. "I, Petalstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Hazelpaw, Kestrelpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives

Her eyes glazed over, and her red hair floated around her as if gravity did not affect her. She could drift off into space and never touch the earth again. Stefan struggled with the urge to run up and ground her. What would he do without her? But the gravity of the situation rooted him in place. The future of the werecat tribe, Clarissa, and her mother depended on this ceremony. He ground his teeth and kept a forced smile on his face. “Participants will trade the relic of the verrrraipucci tribe on this day before these witnesses.” The shamanistic bard opened his arms, indicating everyone in the room as they all murmured hypnotically in response, “Aanaittu tantaiyin peyarrril“. They chanted

My wolf could rage all he wanted; I would not be that kind of monster. I kissed her forehead instead, a lingering touch against her warm skin. She stirred but didn't wake, a soft murmur escaping her lips. I pulled the blanket up to her chin, then I left, the scent of her clinging to me like a ghost as I walked out into the cold reality of my life. The Rite of Scars was happening that night, a ceremonial gathering of our pack’s warriors to renew their oaths. The night air was sharp with the scent of blood and burning herbs. Warriors stood bare-chested around the ceremonial pyre, their fresh scars still glistening. The Rite of Scars was nearly complete. Our strongest had pledged loyalty in blo