"Mommy, what lies beyond the gate?" - Noemi remembered the day when mother taught her the meaning of ancient glyphs carved into a stone archway. She was sitting in midst of gray monoliths, on a small round rock, listening. Slightly yellow scales on her green skin were still soft and the tail was short like it was for all young demi-reptilian kids of her age.

“Nobody knows, my darling.” - The mother leaned over a child, to pat her head gently, with full care and love. It was plain to see that the adult was a tall and slender woman with shining, straight, long, dark hair, in a blue-red fully-body dress, with a wide scarf encompassing her from the left shoulder to right waist. She smiled brightly, before continuing to speak. - “Only the bravest of village warriors get to cross it...” - The mother moved to sit next to a daughter, then picked her up and placed on laps. Noemi joyfully giggled before continuing to listen. - “...but none ever returned. Nevertheless, it's very important for one of our warriors to travel beyond these stones once a year, as it appeases – may they be blessed – architects, which brings clean waters to our gardens, allows fruits to grow sweet and calms the swamp and its beasts. Elders' tales say it's a gate to the home of our gods, full of miraculous wonders and challenges that only the bravest of warriors can face head-on.”

“Mom! I want to see that! Can I become a warrior too!?” - Noemi turned around, her slit pupils widened as her big yellow eyes moved to examine parent's face.

It was clear from the mother's expression that she was pondering on how to answer - “Yes, you can become anyone you want, sweetie... but are you sure? Fighting is a boy's hobby and the training is very, very, very hard. Wouldn't you prefer to follow your mom and become a teacher?”

“No! I want to explore! Swamp is boring!” - Noemi began to fidget in place and pouted. - “If I must, I will become the strongest warrior in the village!”

Mother simply closed her eyes and gently smiled. She instinctively knew that the words of her child would become true.

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It was the sixteenth week of the year. The time of rites. In the first three days, the children would compete to determine their caste. On the fourth and fifth day, adolescent villagers of ages twelve to eighteen would pass their trials to become full-fledged members of their caste. On the sixth day, there would be a joint feast and celebration. On the seventh, current day, one of the warriors would be promoted to 'the hero of people' and cross the gate of gods.

Noemi was sitting alone, in her hut. She was now fifteen and long ago passed her trials to become a warrior. As her title was high in the caste hierarchy, it granted her many privileges. Farmers and hunters would bring her four meals a day. Anytime she defeated a beast that was dangerous to the village, citizens were obliged to pay tribute. Over time, the woman gathered many tools, trinkets, and everyday items.

Currently, she was patiently combing her long, black hair. Once everything was straight, she picked two white hair sticks and prepared a neat bun. On the sides of her straight forelock, two inwardly flicked side bangs hanged down.

Afterward, the warrior woman used a nail file to smoothen claws and talons on her toes, until they were sharp enough to lacerate the soft mammal skin upon just the gentlest touch.

In the meantime, a farmer girl entered and gifted the warrior a meal consisting of sweet purple fruits kindred to a tomato, a few long crunchy leaves, and a cooked partridge in white sauce.

Noemi took her time to enjoy a meal and consumed the dinner slowly until the large copper plate was clean. She was well-rested and ready, all that was left to do was packing her gear.

In the duffel bag, the girl stored a medical kit with traditional green bandages made of fibrous leaves, a healing mix of fat and herbs, antiseptic alcohol. Moreover, there were clean clothes, a sketching kit with colored pencils, a bowl, and a pot, and a few items for personal hygiene. In the rear, the girl packed a waterskin and a few meals wrapped in leaves.

After packing her bags, Noemi fixed her black elastic leggings shorts and a matching sleeveless shirt, then dressed in a grass-woven skirt. Next, the girl equipped a leather armor and tightened all leather straps behind her back. She continued in a similar fashion with leather forearm and shin guards. At last, she decorated her wrists with a few brass rings, ankles with cuff brass bracelets, and then put on a pair of geta sandals.

She only had to pick a rope, her knife, a quiver of javelins, and was ready to go.

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People of the village waited outside of their small town, gathered around the ancient stone monuments raised long ago by the race of architects. Everybody was wearing festive attire, according to their gender and caste.

They awaited their new 'Hero', a warrior who would cross the gate and thus save the tribe from the wrath of gods and calamities. This new hero was Noemi. She walked upon a path laid down by those of the shaman caste. At each of her sides, a row of brothers and sisters cheered for her.

Farmers were wearing clean, well-ironed plain clothes. Girls had their dresses embroidered with flowers, leaves, and small birds. Their hair was decorated in a similar manner and they also wore necklaces and bracelets made of beads in all shades of yellow, orange to red, and brown.

Hunters were wearing pelts and hides of slain beasts, often decorated in all colors of feathers. Fang necklaces hung down their necks and their spears and bows had miniature wooden rattles attached to them. They welcomed their passing 'hero' by shaking their weapons.

Warriors were in their full battle gear, marked on face, arms, legs, and necks by warpaints. They stood still, in absolute silence. As a sign of respect to their fellow 'brother' or rather – what was very uncommon - 'sister' in arms.

Shamans also had their skin painted and were wearing dried herbs, plants, and flowers. They brought incense and were whispering their prayers or blessings to gods, as the 'hero' passed.

Elders, in small numbers, were with their respective castes, but one could distinguish them by their luxurious outfits and front positions.

In the middle of the hero's road, very near its end, was standing village chief. His head was adorned by an impressive headpiece made of colorful long leaves and large feathers, on his chest was a vest made of bones of various kind and all types of pelts hung down his belt, where a couple of bells and god's figurines were attached.

The chief was holding a red pillow with the last tribute for their departing warrior – a well-made spear and a reinforced, round wooden shield with village's insignia in form of two lizards walking around the symbol of the sun.

Noemi accepted her gifts in silence. There was nothing else to say, such was the character of the ceremony. The teachings and all the preparations were completed long ago. The decision was already made.

The 'Hero' crossed the portal and the adventure began.