Fic: Children Of The Moon.
May. 25th, 2022 05:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silbernefuchsTitle: Children Of The Moon
Fandom[s]: Masters of the Universe; World of Darkness [for inspiration]
Character[s]: Keldor, original character
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Length: 728 words
Summary: Keldor gets a history lesson about werewolves.
"I am Sophie Autumn's-Howl. Iron Master Cahalith and alpha of the Burned Oak pack. And you must be the Keldor Odi mentioned."
The only things the woman said that made any real sense were her name and the fact she was an alpha. All the other words were pretty much as understandable as gibberish.
"What are those things?"
"Iron Master is my tribe. Cahalith is my auspice. All werewolves—save for the Pure—have an auspice."
"Auspice?"
"When you have your First Change, the moon's phase at the time determines your auspice. And since the moon is currently crescent, that makes you Ithaeur."
Keldor just blinked.
"Perhaps... Perhaps it would be better for you if I started at the beginning." There was an odd look on her face. "At the very beginning. When our people were still new and the world was not like how it is today."
Without waiting, Sophie began.
He had to admit: Sophie Autumn's-Howl had a way with words. A nearly-supernatural way with words. It wasn't just that he could see the images they painted in his mind. It was as if he was actually there.
Back in Pangaea.
Back in the time of Urfarah. Father Wolf.
A mighty spirit. Perhaps one of the mightiest.
In a world and a time when the realms of spirit and material mingled and beings of one could enter the realms of the other, Father Wolf made sure that the balance between matter and spirit were kept in this primordial paradise.
It was hard to not see how one such as Amahan Iduth—Mother Luna—herself came to love Father Wolf.
For Father Wolf was a great predator. A wise predator.
And so were the children she gave him.
Among them was ferocious Fenris-Ur, the eldest, who would charge headlong into battle to be there first, and to only withdraw once it was over. Quiet, eternally-curious Kamduis-Ur, who studied everything—including death itself. Stealthy Hikaon-Ur, silent and swift in the hunt. Change-embracing Sagrim-Ur, who took note of all the new things the world brought. And Skolis-Ur, who, as a leader, bore silently many burdens without complaint, as leaders often do.
But there was also mad, fanatical Gurim-Ur. Purity-obsessed yet regal Hathis-Ur. And Huzuruth-Ur, who understood only one law: survival of the fittest.
Children of flesh and spirit who could change their shapes as they pleased. And together, they, just like their father, kept balance in the world. Exulting in the hunt. The thrill that comes from the chase.
They were the first werewolves, and together with Father Wolf, they made a formidable pack.
It was a true paradise, but even the humans know, through their great religions, that paradise never lasts.
When Father Wolf grew old, he could no longer could fulfill his duties. And his children decided that, if Urfarah was unable to keep this world in balance, that the duty should then fall to others.
And they fell upon him with teeth and claws.
The howl Father Wolf gave as he died killed one of his own cubs, and cleaved the worlds of spirit and flesh in two, to be divided by the Gauntlet. A nearly impassible barrier. Mother Luna, in her grief over Father Wolf, cursed all her children and their descendants, even into the modern day.
This is the history of the Uratha, and why the spirits—for they have not forgotten how they were policed by Urfarah and his children—hate, and the Pure—those whose ancestors never raised their claws against Father Wolf—hunt down those werewolves who are collectively known as the Forsaken. The Tribes of the Moon, who gave their vow to Mother Luna that they would uphold the duties Father Wolf once carried out, and to whom she gave her blessings despite never lifting their curse.
This was their heritage and legacy.
This was his heritage and legacy now.
If Keldor had thought things were terrifying now, he was about to find out just what true terror was.
"What am I to do, Autumn's-Howl?"
He was scared. He was uncertain. The old life he'd once lived seemed rather sweet in comparison to the new life he was entering.
Autumn's-Howl had a mournful look on her face. She'd been there once, asking similar questions. Thinking similar thoughts.
"What we all must do, Keldor. What we have always done. Our duty."
Fandom[s]: Masters of the Universe; World of Darkness [for inspiration]
Character[s]: Keldor, original character
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Length: 728 words
Summary: Keldor gets a history lesson about werewolves.
"I am Sophie Autumn's-Howl. Iron Master Cahalith and alpha of the Burned Oak pack. And you must be the Keldor Odi mentioned."
The only things the woman said that made any real sense were her name and the fact she was an alpha. All the other words were pretty much as understandable as gibberish.
"What are those things?"
"Iron Master is my tribe. Cahalith is my auspice. All werewolves—save for the Pure—have an auspice."
"Auspice?"
"When you have your First Change, the moon's phase at the time determines your auspice. And since the moon is currently crescent, that makes you Ithaeur."
Keldor just blinked.
"Perhaps... Perhaps it would be better for you if I started at the beginning." There was an odd look on her face. "At the very beginning. When our people were still new and the world was not like how it is today."
Without waiting, Sophie began.
He had to admit: Sophie Autumn's-Howl had a way with words. A nearly-supernatural way with words. It wasn't just that he could see the images they painted in his mind. It was as if he was actually there.
Back in Pangaea.
Back in the time of Urfarah. Father Wolf.
A mighty spirit. Perhaps one of the mightiest.
In a world and a time when the realms of spirit and material mingled and beings of one could enter the realms of the other, Father Wolf made sure that the balance between matter and spirit were kept in this primordial paradise.
It was hard to not see how one such as Amahan Iduth—Mother Luna—herself came to love Father Wolf.
For Father Wolf was a great predator. A wise predator.
And so were the children she gave him.
Among them was ferocious Fenris-Ur, the eldest, who would charge headlong into battle to be there first, and to only withdraw once it was over. Quiet, eternally-curious Kamduis-Ur, who studied everything—including death itself. Stealthy Hikaon-Ur, silent and swift in the hunt. Change-embracing Sagrim-Ur, who took note of all the new things the world brought. And Skolis-Ur, who, as a leader, bore silently many burdens without complaint, as leaders often do.
But there was also mad, fanatical Gurim-Ur. Purity-obsessed yet regal Hathis-Ur. And Huzuruth-Ur, who understood only one law: survival of the fittest.
Children of flesh and spirit who could change their shapes as they pleased. And together, they, just like their father, kept balance in the world. Exulting in the hunt. The thrill that comes from the chase.
They were the first werewolves, and together with Father Wolf, they made a formidable pack.
It was a true paradise, but even the humans know, through their great religions, that paradise never lasts.
When Father Wolf grew old, he could no longer could fulfill his duties. And his children decided that, if Urfarah was unable to keep this world in balance, that the duty should then fall to others.
And they fell upon him with teeth and claws.
The howl Father Wolf gave as he died killed one of his own cubs, and cleaved the worlds of spirit and flesh in two, to be divided by the Gauntlet. A nearly impassible barrier. Mother Luna, in her grief over Father Wolf, cursed all her children and their descendants, even into the modern day.
This is the history of the Uratha, and why the spirits—for they have not forgotten how they were policed by Urfarah and his children—hate, and the Pure—those whose ancestors never raised their claws against Father Wolf—hunt down those werewolves who are collectively known as the Forsaken. The Tribes of the Moon, who gave their vow to Mother Luna that they would uphold the duties Father Wolf once carried out, and to whom she gave her blessings despite never lifting their curse.
This was their heritage and legacy.
This was his heritage and legacy now.
If Keldor had thought things were terrifying now, he was about to find out just what true terror was.
"What am I to do, Autumn's-Howl?"
He was scared. He was uncertain. The old life he'd once lived seemed rather sweet in comparison to the new life he was entering.
Autumn's-Howl had a mournful look on her face. She'd been there once, asking similar questions. Thinking similar thoughts.
"What we all must do, Keldor. What we have always done. Our duty."
