18 MMA Bears Two - Part 1

The pace quickened. The trees were getting closer together, and so it was getting increasingly difficult to move their huge frames between. Bran had the scent. The hunt was on, but his prey was quick and large. If there was a fight, he couldn't be sure that he'd win, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

The Elder growled next to him, the moonlight catching his greying fur. Bran was overjoyed to have been chosen for this mission. He was younger than many of the others in their shifter clan, but he already had a reputation for being among their best.

Up ahead, Bran could hear the breaking branches as their prey tore through the dense forest. Then, suddenly, the sound ceased. The Elder stopped and quickly shifted back to his human form. His long hair blew in the night breeze, his white beard speaking of decades, perhaps centuries of existence.

"Stay still, young one," the Elder said, looking into the darkness intently. "He has stopped running…"

"What does that mean?" Bran said, now returning to his human form, his blond hair and athletic upper body blue under the moon's hue.

"It means one of three things," said the Elder. "He's either exhausted and can't go on; he's ready to surrender; or…" He did not continue.

"'Or…' never sounds good. What does that mean?" Bran said, slightly panicked, his inexperience of such things showing.

"Or it means he's ready to fight."

A single snap of a twig under foot or paw echoed out across the dark woodland scene. Bran could feel his heart racing as the adrenaline continued to pump around his body. He wasn't exactly scared, but he was apprehensive; and he had every right to be. Bran was only 23 by human years, and while he was chosen by the Elder for this hunt, he had never faced a situation like this, where they had to chase down one of their own.

A roar came from the side.

"He's flanked us!" the Elder yelled as he and Bran transformed into their bear forms. "Stand your ground!"

A bear came crashing through the trees to their right. It was huge, even larger than the Elder. It reared up on its hind legs and roared with anger.

Bran was ready to fight, he bore his teeth and snarled in response, but the Elder showed restraint. As the huge bear in front of him growled aggressively, the Elder returned to his human form. For a moment, Bran saw the Elder looking frailer than before, something which he'd never seen in him previously.

"Lorne, my old friend. We are not here to fight you." The Elder then sat on the ground, smiling kindly. "We are here to stop you from making a terrible mistake."

Bran was confused, yet relieved. He was ready to fight if needed to help the Elder, but the bear in front of him, Lorne, seemed to respond to the Elder's tactics. That made Bran happy. Lorne had always been kind to him. He'd always been kind to everyone, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him.

The bear stepped forward and began to bow its head as it walked towards the Elder. The Elder then patted the brown fur on its head. "Stand down, Bran. It is okay."

Bran reluctantly transformed back into his human form. With a cracking noise, Lorne then followed, his huge hulking bear form shifting eventually into a human, all 7 feet of him.

"Lorne, my friend, why did you run?" The Elder asked in a soft tone.

"I do not wish to fight," Lorne said, his face covered in a thick brown beard, his face anguished.

"It's your duty!" Bran insisted.

"To hell with duty, I know what can become of you in the Tournament. I watched Gage fight many times." Lorne looked afraid.

The Elder stood up, and stared, almost level, into the eyes of Lorne. "Lorne, if I could undo this, know that I would. But you have been chosen by the Cabal as our champion, and that means that you must fight."

"No! I will not. Some die in the Tournament. I will not be part of such madness."

"If you do not, the Cabal will look poorly on our clan. They will come for us, and we, your tribe, and your family will not survive."

Lorne looked unsure. "I doubt these threats which the Cabal makes."

"Oh, if only they were empty. But it is true. The Samoan tribe, they were a fierce and noble clan of bears. And yet their champion refused to take part in the Tournament." The Elder looked saddened by a deep memory from long ago.

"I've never heard of a Samoan shifter clan?" Lorne said, surprised.

"Of course not, they're all dead. Wiped out within 7 days of their champion forfeiting his fight."

The three shifters stared at each other for a moment, and Bran then saw a change in Lorne's face. One of defeat.

"I… do not want to, but if I must do it to protect my clan, then so be it. Let us go home," said Lorne.

"My boy, you have always been the gentlest of us. You've always wandered these woods a friend to all who cross you. I know that you do not wish to harm anyone, but to survive the Tournament, you must find the beast within and unleash it. Understand?" The Elder smiled at Lorne with care.

"Yes, I understand."

But it seemed doubtful to Bran. He worried for Lorne. No one knew the reason he had been chosen, perhaps for his unusual size, but Lorne was the type to wander serenely through the grass and trees, to feed his mind and enquire about the world, not to fight it. It was strange indeed that the Cabal would choose someone who was not a fighter.

The three bears walked through the forest towards their town, but little was said between them. Lorne had to fight, and if he didn't the Cabal would come and wipe them all out.

Bran wished he could take Lorne's place, but the Cabal chose each clan's champion, and would not budge on the issue. Once a champion was chosen, that was that.

"Remember, Lorne," the Elder said. "You only have to fight three times, after that you can retire if you choose, or go on…"

"Or be dead," Lorne said solemnly.

The three shifters continued on, and soon they came to a huge clearing. There lay their town, a place filled only with shifters.

"It is every man, woman, and child here for which you fight, Lorne," said the Elder pointing at the streets and houses, their lights blinking in the night.

"I know."

All three walked on, not knowing that their destinies were interlocked, and about to lead all of their people to a bitter and dark place which even a shifter would fear.

Chapter 1: The Newcomer

Three days had passed since Lorne tried to escape his place as the clan's champion, and in that time something unusual had occurred.

A human woman, a pure blood with no beast inside, had come to live in the town - Swiftclaw, home to more than 5,000 bear shifters. This was unusual because the Swiftclaw clan, and most shifter communities for that matter, tried to stay away from pure bloods. The nearest human town was Wild Cove, with nearly twenty miles of forest between them. There was very little contact with the pure blood humans, even though since the end of World War II human society had become aware that shifters existed.

Nonetheless, something had changed in the community, and it had brought humanity straight into the town. A baby had arrived, the product of a romance between Swiftclaw's longest serving champion, Gage, and a woman called Lacey. They'd had a child, and while elements of the Swiftclaw clan had at least begrudgingly accepted Lacey and her baby daughter's presence due to Gage, there was a fervent outcry about the latest addition to the town - a doctor by the name of Elizabeth Goldberg.

Some were merely puzzled at Elizabeth's arrival, others were suspicious, but it was a small yet influential group within Swiftclaw which was most outspoken. Led by a shifter named LoHawk, they argued for complete separation between pure bloods and shifters. For LoHawk and his followers, Lacey and Gage's baby was an abomination which had opened the door to further unwanted integration. Something LoHawk was determined to stop.