The First Rite

 The night had fallen and in the scarce light of the flickering fire, a man sat contemplating.

“I can’t go up to him and say that his words hurt my ego.”

He looked towards the door of the hut. He could hear the merry voices of the clan outside. He turned his attention back to the fire and let it wander for a while until suddenly-

“I shall not do nought. Let the universe handle this.”

With nervous hands and great anticipation, he begins gathering herbs, twigs, and essences and tossing them into the fire that burns brighter with each offering. He breathed words into the night, words that then came to him; words that could become the first spell of mankind.

“This is my will and let it be done.”

He said tossing the last herb into the fire and watching it burn, its fiery pit reflected in his eyes.