1500 Year Old Werewolf || He/Him || Alpha in Anshega I am the oldest werewolf in the country. I have felt the grace of Gaia transform my wolven soul in that of the Garou. I was the first of my kind to undergo the transformation and shed wolven fur for a smooth homid skin. I remember the first thoughts that weren't driven by instincts, and the first tongues I established as our language to communicate.
I have seen and been through more lifetimes than anyone should. And yet I saw a devastating future. I know my ending, and I know of how my story cuts off. All I can do is prepare and enjoy the peace of the present.
The young wolf stopped as Alistair did, taking in their surronding as he told his story. She had heard other wolves talking about times hundreds of years in the past and still it was so hard to even imagine it. There was something odd about talking with someone who had lived for so long. In the back of her mind there was something trying to rationalize that idea of someone being around as the world changed. Yet, the more people she met and the more stories she heard the idea didn’t seem so far fetched. Maybe one day she’d be standing on this road, a hundred years from now talking about how Hala used to be. It wasn’t something she had ever even thought of was possible.
“That’s an incredible s-story. To see the w-w-world so slowly build up around you. Then get to s-stand here and take it all in, to see all the p-p-pr-progress. It’s no wonder that everyone talks about the city with such p-pride.” she said, glancing around the city. Even with the little time she spent here she felt that pride building in her as well.
As Alistair spoke of the humans amongst the pack, Mia had wondered what it would have been like to come here when she was still human. With the tight grip the church had kept on her there was no way that would have ever stepped foot in a place like this. She’d seen very small select portions of the country. If places like Hala had existed this whole time she could only wonder what else was out there.
“I h-have seen parts of it. W-When I first got here I barely left Tristan’s house. I was… w-well scared I guess. I have b-been getting out more. Tristan has s-sh-showed me parts of the city, but I haven’t s-s-seen much beyond that. I think he can still sense my n-nerves. ” she said, laughing to herself at the idea. “But, I think now more than ever I want to see everything here.” Mia smiled. “Before the pack rites I think I should know the land here."
Maybe Mia didn’t want to admit it but she felt her nerves started to fade away the more and more they talked. Still the mysterious pack rites pulled at the back of her mind, so she tried to stay focused on what was at hand right now.
So they walked. It was beautiful outside this time of the year, with dotting snow drifts and chilly atmosphere to make their warm breath swirl in front of their faces. Alastair showed her most of Hala, explained about the old human family lines that could map out their ancestors to the first who established here. They weren’t of nobility title like in the Kingdom, but they held a higher respect in the community in that way. Alastair couldn’t remember every human or hybrids face as time as slipped by, but he knew their family scent-- because it was one of home.
Alastair took Mia to the Caern, and his favorite places of prayer. They were different depending on how the pack designed the flowers or rock beds. The graveyard was the newest expansion to the territory from last years events. The gravestones weren’t there so much as small painted rocks and gentle mounds for flowers to grow on. He showed her the lumber-mill and the quarry where most of the income came into Hala for trade and to build all across the country and finally they ended on the beaches of the south where the most colorful beach expanded around their small peninsula and a view of a powerful ocean in the background.
There on the beach were a few fires, as sunset was coming. Paper lanterns were situated along wooden poles buried deep in the sand and strung around to give the area a warm orange glow. People were setting up food on large tables and benches had children lined up for face painting. The scent alone was cherished to Alastair, as it was human, hybrid, and wolf-- it was The Pack.
“There are six of you tonight getting branded. Two made it through the change as hybrids, and the others were wolves who have come of age and also experienced the change this month,” Alastair said. “Go get ready, you can put something more traditional on, or get painted-- tonight it suppose to be fun up until you take your vow."
Growing up in Leeds made Nita a lot more street-smart than others. She knew how to conduct herself in such lawless places. It was always wise to blend in and remain unnoticed. Her posture was relaxed and unassuming, but didn’t give off the impression of someone careless. She wanted to suggest that she belonged in Grimsby and wasn’t just some traveler. Nita kept her pace casual and stopped once to consider the wares of a peddler. Alastair wasn’t far behind her, but kept his distance. Despite the pressure on her, she felt proud to be there with him.
Nita knew that this mission would either strengthen or hinder their bond, depending on the outcome. And while she may be his sometime lover, she wanted a more meaningful place in her Alpha’s heart. Not romantically, but as someone he could always depend on to be at his side. She wanted to be important to him and a part of the legacy he sought to build for Anshega.
“Traps?” She said, keeping her gaze leveled as he suggested. “I don’t understand…” The wolf wondered if the informant had snipers with eyes on the streets. So far, she hadn’t seen anyone in the windows, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Soon enough, that scent she followed had thickened in the air, so much that she thought it might have been their prey.
Yet as the young male grew closer, Nita realized that the smell merely lingered on top of his own. He may not have been their target, but he was recently in the presence of them. “We’re getting close.” She said, following in the direction the boy came from. “So, can you tell me anything about who we’re looking for? And would our coming face-to-face with ‘em raise any panic? Were you two on good terms?”
“Traps-- not how you think them to be, they are usually to ward off thieves. One time I was soaked through from a water bucket above the door and then he threatened me with makeshift weapon that I honestly couldn’t understand,” Alastair rolled his eyes at the old exchange. When the younger male walked by he purposefully nudged him to mark his scent on him and lifted his hands as if to say sorry when the guy waved in understanding. Just in case they needed him, it would always be easier to find them with his scent.
“The reason I have been doing this alone is because I believe we may have a spy or someone in the pack who is doing wrong to us-- and hasn’t entirely gotten caught yet,” Alastair’s stomach soured at the words. He didn’t do Ronin’s, one-- he has one Ronin and that was only because of one other wolf who convinced him.
“This man, he’s paranoid-- his brain works in a way that lets him see through people, see-- things even I might have missed. Its exactly what I needed at the time but his leads are taking me no where of late, which means he could be compromised. If that’s the case-- then I need him to stay quiet or it risks exposing my advantage against the wolf conspiring against us,”
Tristan let out a full bellied laugh as his father rushed towards him and pulled him into the hold, his own arms wrapping around the older wolf’s torso firmly but with little action, almost like a hug. He was preparing to push into him when he heard the horn, immediately letting go and looking towards the hill. He glanced back at his father, then returned his look to the hill, immediately phasing and heading that way, returning the howl and assuming his father would follow him. He knew that this was not a call for him specifically, but he knew that he wanted to go. And for once, not only because he wanted to prove himself. He actually wanted to know what was happening.
When he arrived at the scouts, he phased back partially, standing next to his father. It didn’t take long for the scouts to speak. “Brawls and riots are breaking out in Southwith. It started with hybrids against humans but has grown. I think it is of our best interest to send people to try and stop things before it gets too out of hand.”
Tristan nodded, now was not the time for any more added tension. “I’ll go. I’ve no more important business to do here. I’ll set Farryn to keep watch on Mia in my house and I will go see if I can’t diffuse some of this.” he spoke as if the decision was his completely to make, assurance and something new in his voice. A sense of…leadership? Determination? That would be found out later, but it was different from his usual tone.
Alastair looked around, listening to the conversation, but was more attuned to what could be lurking about to cause these issues. It wasn’t new that magic could be the root of all the problems of late, and he was curious if they were determined to bring turmoil to the pack directly should it spread down the roads and into Hala. He knew the hybrids could have a hot hotheadedness to them just as any wolf-- but they weren’t stupid. They were fighting for their pack because someone said something, or they believed their home threatened.
Was this a smokescreen though? He once more looked around but his mind was drifted against the other issues he’s been dealing with.
“You what?” he peered over at Tristan when he made his comment, shock evident on his features. “You set one of our greatest warriors on an mundane task as babysitting? Mia is new, but she is surrounded by people who can help her.”
With a look at the scout, “issue a howl to call all warriors to patrol the pack line. I don’t want anyone coming into or leaving Vargulf until I return.” The scout nodded in mid-transformation and ran towards town.
“We go about this slow, carefully-- think about everything that keeps happening. If its just brawls and riots that’s simple to defuse-- but if its more we have to be wary,” he walked away from Tristan, a cruel twitch to his lips while he remained in a blended homid form that made him seem more bear like than wolf. His long hair draped down his back in knots, and though he normally took good care of his appearance, after the practice fighting with the humans, they muddied him up.
He could already hear it before they made it around the bend. The echos off the water and high cliffs surrounding what use to be an impassable waterfall bounced upwards in amplification. Small plumes of smoke came from a few places likely caused by small fires, and the stench of sweat and blood was almost unbearably human when they made it to the bridge.
“Move,” Alastair said to the guarded line blocking the bridge.
“No-- orders from the castle are to keep everyone and anyone off the bridge,” the guard shook in his boots, but bravely held his spear out towards Alastair.
“I mean move or you are going to get trampled,” Alastair cracked his neck, and shifted into his horrifying Garou form. With a deep inhale he released a ferocious roar that rippled through the air and traveled for miles towards South Wind on the other side.
Relief washed over her once Alastair granted permission. Though she couldn’t help but notice the severity of his words. They buzzed about Nita’s head the entire time they traveled to Grimsby. She hoped she was reading too much into his tone, but the wolf knew that would be foolish.
Once they were within the city’s limits, Alastair handed her the sample of their prey’s scent. Nita took the vial and popped the cork to lightly inhale the contents. She took her time and allowed her senses to commit the scent to memory. Like most smells, there were layers to it and this one was no different. Nita picked up the scent of fish, tobacco, and their body odor. Beneath it all was a faint hint of peppermint.
She figured the task would be simple enough until Alastair revealed that she would lead the quest. Nita stared down at the vial with wide eyes as panic skittered up her throat.The irresponsible part of her screamed that she bit off more than she could chew. Perhaps this was Alastair’s way of making her pay for it, or maybe he just saw a proper opportunity to present the challenge. Either way, Nita walked right into a trap and would have to navigate her way out of it. “–Alright.” She agreed, choking down her fear.
“I accept your challenge.” Nita said, this time sounding far more confident. “And I will not disappoint you.” The warg didn’t care if the test resulted in some sort of reward or not, she knew what Alastair wanted from her. She wanted to show him that she wasn’t the brash girl he met a century ago. With that vow, she stepped past him and continued on. Her nose began to sift through the fog, clutching the thread of the informant’s scent.
Nita has always been one of his favorite. He’d never admit such a truth, especially because he’s laid with many of his wolves and have taken a few mates in his life-- but Nita has always been a wolf who seemed too dangerous to be close with. Just enough to make it thrilling. He appreciated her a lot, more so than other’s who tried to win his heart over. She didn’t ever attempt such a thing with him and it made their time together seem distant from pack life. Something he needed sometimes and she always gave him without one muttered word.
It was frightening easy to see her potential and Alastair wanted to watch her to continue to grow as a person and as a member of his pack. He hoped, eventually, if he were to ever not be around, that Nita would stand proudly by Inga and Tristan, be someone they could count on just as she’s done for him.
Alastair followed, close by but not enough to seem suspicious of their reasons for being there. Grimsby was always glancing at strangers, but they seemed to know enough travel passing through because of the Kingdom to not give much a batted eye to their stride. Alastair hadn’t spoken more on why he had contacts here to anyone except Elsu and Inga. He had to keep word on his dealings to a minimum-- not because it was dangerous, but because he was concerned he had a mole in his pack. Someone who was slipping enough information about pack schedules and warrior rotations to allow his wolves to be attacked.
He glanced at Nita, glaring unconsciously at the back of her head. How would she take such news? That there was a traitor in the pack. That they are the real person he is fighting.
“Watch the windows without looking,” he said quietly, “this contact, they sometimes lay hunters traps out of ridiculous fears. They are simple enough to avoid, just be on the look out.”
Nita parted her lips to retort, but instantly snapped her mouth shut and averted her gaze. Were she in wolven form, she’d have lowered her head and tucked tail. Though while in her homid state, there were still ways to express submission. His gentle facade from earlier faded and she was suddenly aware of how much turmoil he was still in from recent activities. Many said that their Alpha wasn’t the same after Leeds. But after sporting the scars he wore, who would be? It had dawned on her that Alastair changed and perhaps he wasn’t so immovable after all.
“I did not present the question to offend you, my Alpha. I only asked out of deep concern.” Her tone was lowered and neutral. She stood where was, knowing that advancing might be a sign of provocation, and retreating as a weakness. Nita stopped breathing when Alastair touched her, practically tasting the anger rolling from his pores. “Have you forgotten who I am? You know my past and the things I’ve done...I know that rage.” Nita slowly lifted her gaze. There was no challenge in them, none of the rebellious fire that always sparked there, only devotion.
“I fear you because of your power and that you’re closer to divinity than any of us could hope to be. But I could never fear you for actions of revenge and war.” Nita understood that leaders had to act from a position of strength; sometimes that strength could be terrible. “Which is why I’ll help you with this, if you’ll let me.”
His gut twisted like a silver blade had made to scar his insides, her words were true as they typically were when he was towering over any of his kind. But he couldn’t deny that she had a distinct point and unique viewpoint many of his wolves didn’t have. Nita was a wolf born with fire in her belly, and it was something he never wanted to watch dim down, but shape. Was she finally getting it? After all these years, her irrational and heated way of dealing with problems was an issue for him-- it had been the main reason he refused to approve warrior training not wanting to place her in situations where her rage would become a problem for the pack over helping it.
“I will let you,”
His words spoke intensely, a tone that resonated as command over acceptance and he didn’t say more. Alastair’s emotions closed off and distant to her when he turned his back and started making his way up the road. His mind raced with many things while they traveled. How to deal with this coven of witches. How to deal with the King. How to deal with Midnight. So many powerful enemies were just a flip of a coin away from being a reality should the wolves misstep, and Alastair was feeling instincts to put an end to all relationships with them for that very reason alone.
Grimsby reeked of flooding and snow. He didn’t understand how the humans here decided to pick such a dreadfully dull place to build their town. Smog had settled low under the mountains from the weather wanting to snow and also wanting to sit upon the warm air rising towards sides.
“This is their scent,” he pulled out from his pockets a vial, inside was a piece of cloth and a strand of hair, he handed it to Nita. “I will let you lead this. You can decide what to do with them, how you will handle their treachery and lying to your Alpha that cost the life of one of our own if I were to send you alone on this. I know how I would handle it, and what I was planning on doing. But I will allow you to make your own decision here. Prove to me; you know how to shape your instincts."
Taking in a deep breath Mia followed Alistair out the door, unsure of where they were going but followed next to him as they walked through the city. The young wolf wondered if maybe she should have asked exactly how the pack initiating worked? Did she just say yes and that was it? She had no idea. A lot of the time the unknown caused her to panic yet walking side by side with her Alpha that feeling almost seemed to vanish. Glancing up at him for a moment, she was curious to see how much Tristan was like his dad.
Listening carefully as Alistair introduced himself officially to her, she memorized the proper words to use with him. “U-Urfarah” she repeated the word. While the word was foreign to her it almost had an oddly familiar sound to it. It didn’t surprise her though. Since her change she had found so many things to have a comfortable familiarity to her now.
“M-Mia…” she said quickly, after he finished introducing himself. It only felt right that she introduce herself back to him. “I mean…you know that already but…” she trailed off, with a slight laugh unsure where her sudden outburst came from. Or the courage to have it in front of someone as important as Alistair.
“T-That’s very kind of you to apologize, b-but it was neither your n-nor the packs fault I can g-guess. Just the actions of one m-m-man” she told him. She had a lot of time to think about what happened to her but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to totally move on yet. Nor forgive them for what they did.
His next words did bring some comfort to her. You should be with us. The idea of belonging flooded back to her. Being wanted somewhere. “I w-would like that more than you know.” she told him, truthfully. She felt no reason to lie or hold back her feelings, especially now on such an important occasion. “You, Tristan, the p-pack have been nothing but k-kind to me. I can only hope I am able to r-repay all you for that kindness you’ve g-g-given to me.”
She didn’t seem worried about the wolf who bit her, and that concerned him. It was sometimes the issue with not growing up with the pack to know the exact feeling of unity and togetherness. There was no other kind in all the world that moved like the wolves-- her comment unknowingly seemed very foreign to him-- they would show her real family. That wolf wasn’t just in danger from Alastair Ulric, but the entire pack of Anshega, they would do well to know it, and word would spread quickly. Ronin’s are not something Alastair tend to keep around less it be exceptional circumstances, and that individual being only one wolf in history.
He sighed a little, not to dismiss her, but in the scope of frustrations he had over her life being changed without guidance. Humanity was worth saving; they deserved to live their mortal lives in peace with the immortal should they desire it. Alastair scratched his beard and paused in front of a stretch of houses. “The way Hala was built is an interesting story, you see myself, and a few dozen wolves resided in this area over five or more hundred years ago. Then these humans walk right out of the woods right there.”
He pointed up the long winding road to where they could see the forest line of the Ancient Forest, now well worn in a pathway.
“We started with these four houses and then every month, and every passing year, we kept adding more and more,” he glanced down the single road that was currently busy with business, it curved up around the hills but was contained within this single road. “Humans have always been apart of Anshega since that moment; humans were the ones who gave me a name. Humanity is something we cherish here, and though you are a wolf now, you could have been in our pack as a human. So do not fear for repayment, there is always plenty to do here.”
A few wolves walked by and waved to them both, carrying a large load of stone from the quarry. It made him question how much she knew about their home.
“Has Tristan walked you around our Territory? What have you seen so far? We could do that before we get into pack rites,”
Tristan had changed. The shifts were subtle, but to anyone that knew the man he was before, they could tell. He stood straighter, less with arrogance and moreso with pride of who he was and what he was going to do. With increased training, his body had filled out more and he was looking older. And, thanks to living with Mia’s increased spirits, you could find him walking around with a smile on his face. And that, perhaps, was the biggest change of all.
When he headed to the training grounds, he was not expecting to see his father there. With everything that had been going on with the pack, Tristan had seen less of his alpha, and only on business issues and council meetings, never like this. Chuckling and, dare he say, having fun?
Watching the humans try to take down their alpha in his homid form was entertaining enough, but when he grew to his true size, Tristan couldn’t help but audibly laugh. Few people could take down the alpha in his true form, and definitely not humans in training. But it was fun to watch.
As the humans scattered, Tristan sauntered into the area, raising a brow at his father, but a grin plastering his features. “You know, old man…” he laughed as some people’s eyes shifted to him, something he was certainly used to “You still owe me a grapple. Perhaps we should give the people a show?” It was spoken playfully and for once, that was all that was in his voice.
Alastair surprisingly laughed, the rumble was heartfelt and in irregular form over the last four months. After his kidnapping and various issues politically, it has spread widely throughout the pack to give him some room. Having a chance to heal some of the stigmas of his mood swings and frustrations gave him some inner peace with his people. Alastair regarded Tristan's calm, and mind collected with a raised brow, the scar across it accenting and making the wolf appear a little comical in his clear huff towards his son.
Inside, however, it further drew a different well from the beast. Love was the core of the wolf, and he pulled back into his rough homid form and shrugged like he was bored.
Though the moment Tristan came near him it already was a show. He could feel the shift in the mood, the eyes darting towards the youngest Ulric and he felt both irritated and proud at the same time. He still had time to shape him right? It didn’t feel that way, something ugly and worrisome soured his belly that Tristan’s time to shine will come sooner rather than later, especially with no one finding the Queen Mother.
He blinked slowly, a gentle shake of his head to clear the fog seeping in. “A show hrm--” in a flash of speed he raced forward in an attempt to grab Tristan’s forearm and pull him close to rub his palm into his head like he was but a little pup deserving of a noogie. Though the playful moment was short-lived, his gaze wandered up and heard from the crown of a hill a horn then two consecutive howls calling him.
Alastair was training a few of the humans in his pack. He needed the distraction from all that was happening, at least for a few hours in one day. The weather in Vargulf was perfect for the wolves, crisp with snow drifts in places, but clear skies left them comfortable in the clean scenting air. He didn’t typically find free time like this unless he scheduled it, but watching the humans practicing sword movement and archery today with their kin made him interested in checking in and seeing how their progress was going.
He had his hands on someone’s wrists while they tried to grapple out of his grip. It was a simple exercise, his sheer strength made it impossible to break their hands out, but humans were ever resourceful. In a matter of a minute, he had almost six people tugging on him, another climbed up on his back, and if this had been a bunch of kids it would have been cute in a silly playful way, but all grown men it was evident in their intent to drop their alpha.
The weight wasn’t the problem, but they were smart in their attempts to free their comrade which was the goal. They hooked a wooden pole under his chin and pressed on his neck from behind, the others were trying to pull him back to force his balance to offset, and the sharp bite of a blade to his left hamstring proudly proved to him that they were determined to hurt him to win this training.
His leg dropped immediately when the blade cut his skin, but he held on as they plummeted him. He grinned a wolfish smile that could instill fear in the unknowing, the man he was holding onto groaned.
“Alpha don’t--” he heard the plea in his ears just as he grew in sheer mass and size, his Garou form monstrous and lifted all six men up off the ground as they held on.
“That’s so cheating!” the man on his back gripped his fur and tried to get the weapon back on his throat, but it was a futile attempt as his arms could barely wrap around his shoulders now. Alastair laughed as they all scrambled.
Figure it out-- he breathed out through his muzzle, the First Tongue quickly translated by a warrior wolf observing with amusement.
Today was the day. Mia had been thinking about this day since the day she first arrived at Hala City. She remembered how nervous she was when she walked down the streets for the first time. She could only think of all the faces staring at her, wondering if she belonged. Did she even belong here? She didn’t know at first. She felt like a complete outsider. Just looking into a new world that before was never known to her. There were new places and languages and ideas that she had never heard of.
Most of Mia’s life she’d been in a small bubble. The small orphanage where she lived. The tiny village where she worked as a servant for a family. The church and the beautiful small bubble she never dared step outside of. She was safe there. She was safe but still she felt like an outsider.
There never was one place she truly belonged. No family. Nothing. While walking through Hala city she expected to see that same empty loneliness. But, she didn’t. There was some beating heart that she could feel through the city. Something that connected the people there. It brought them all together. Slowly she could feel herself starting to become one with this beating heartbeat. She found comfort in the bustling city streets, the laughter of the people, Tristan’s cozy home that he allowed her to stay in. It was an idea of belonging that was so close in her grasp.
The question of joining the pack had lingered in her mind for a long time. But deep down she felt like she always knew her answer. She wanted to belong. She wanted there to be people who cared for her. She wanted to care for a group of people. She wanted a family. Mia wanted her pack.
When it was time she followed two fellow pack members down toward the Inn. As Mia walked, she took a look at the buildings around her, the people. She listened for that heartbeat that drummed through the city. Maybe this would be the last time she’d hear that sound as as outside. She was glad for it.
Sitting at a small table she waited for her Alpha to meet them there. She could hear the chatter quiet for a moment as he walked into the door. One of the pack members took her arm, guiding her over towards where Alistair stood. Though her heart was beating rapidly she smiled up at him. “H-He-Hello S-Sir.”
“Hello, come on,”
He ushered them outside so all the prying eyes wouldn’t make her nervous, not that the pack didn’t know about her already. It wasn’t often this happened in Anshega, those bitten typically underwent it by choice and not caught in the crossfire of an altercation. Of course, as those words filtered through his mind he remembered the countless times they had issues with the full moon or worse last years Bloodmoon when many innocent humans and hybrids were forced to change. It was a mess, always would be when someones free will in their very species makeup was in question.
“I am Alastair Ulric; you can call me Alastair respectively, or Alpha if you choose. Most call me Urfarah which is an ancient word from our people meaning pack master--” he chuckled at the quite poor introductions, it would seem tonight will prove to be challenging to get his mind out of business. Who introduced themselves like that? He shook his mane of hair, the long strands tangled and in need of a bath from his traveling. He had them walk through the main road in Hala, heading south towards the hills.
“I want to apologize for what happened to you; I am sure you have had varying degrees of opinions on the matter with which you were turned. It goes against my rules when I find the wolf who did this to you-- I will personally deal with it.” He peered down at the small appearing woman, feeling the heat of her body from the change, and the scent of his that gave him some comfort she was home and safe.
“You should be with us, it is safer here-- I’d like to offer you that,”
After searching for the Queen with Farryn, Nita returned back to Hala. There was something about the winter that drew her to the Pack more than usual. It was as if her instincts knew that the cold months were a time to band together for survival. Despite the chill in the air, the people of Hala always tended to have a reason for celebration. Even Nita felt victim to the winter joy and engaged in a snowball fight with a few children that frequented her shop. They wagered for sweet treats if they claimed victory and Nita was more than happy to oblige.
Like those around her, she was aware that their Alpha was among them. One could tell by the sense of security his great presence carried. Yet when he rose to leave, no one seemed to note it. Everyone was too occupied with enjoying their moment of peace. Finding it odd, Nita made quick work of defeating her little assailants, to their dismay. But, to make up for it, she promised them twice the amount of cookies they bargained for. Satisfied, they allowed Nita to leave them to follow their Alpha’s trail.
She was surprised to learn that he headed north, which made his sudden disappearance even more curious. Nita followed him along the road leading into the Ancient Forest, until they were about a mile away from Vargulf. “So where are you in such a hurry to go?” She said, knowing he could hear her. “Especially, since you took care to make sure others didn’t notice.”
“Nita,” he turned with just the tilt of his head, the scruff of his beard caught along the leather on his shoulders. The snow right now was beautiful from this vantage point too, watching Nita’s steps approach after having enjoyed their play in the powdery substance was a little bit of a surprise. Not many could pick up on his departures; he didn’t make them difficult just selected optimal times to walk off while they were distracted.
“You have any right to ask that of me?” he paused, the words didn’t express the emotions in his chest, but came out rough and a little like a warning in the back of his throat. The large scar down his eye twitched, the mixed match hues of his pupils dilating to give the Alpha a discerning appearance against a beautiful landscape. One more war-ridden than what the peaceful aura around Hala and Vargulf expressed. It was evidence alone that this year has been filled with turmoil.
“Rauha didn’t deserve to be skinned alive when he was playing Nita-- he was just a kid at heart,”
Alastair said this instead of showcasing anger at being paused in his journey. Nita hadn’t been present at the council meeting to know any of the details of his anger about this continuous issue, but Nita should know enough over the past year with rumors alone. Alastair hunting down the people involved has been a hot topic of conversation of late with the latest victim.
He walked towards her, “you know I think about that blade, the one used on me that took half my pelt-- and at night I get so angry I fear a rage worthy of monsters swell in my very center,” his palm touched her there, running his palm to her front. “You will fear me if I reach that peak-- my people will. So my hurry, Nita-- is to travel into Grimsby if you must know. I have a contact there who has lied to me about a lead. I am going to kill them.”
A surprising loud laugh drew the Alpha’s gaze further down from where he perched on a roof top. A black bear fur cloak draped over his shoulders and up over the crown of his head. It shrouded him from immediate sight from most of the passing humans, a few wolves picked up his scent, but this part of Hala was vibrant in late evening activities and enough of his people to give him some element of surprise.
A crinkled grin stretched his lips into a half grin while he enjoyed seeing a few people out in the snow, adults starting snowball fights, and those without the kids were merry in their singing outside the tavern. It was a warm feeling of home that swept him into feeling suddenly sentimental and grateful to his packmates-- especially those mortals ones who always managed to stress him out and make his entire world equally.
When he felt enough time slipped by, he slid down the back of the roof and landed into the snow in the tavern’s backyard. He had business in the Ancient Forest again-- the Queen Mother still missing. And though he’s feeling thunderous flashbacks to the last time he had business there. There was an impending issue involving the Ancient Forest in his life. He had to kill a few of his wolves with his bare hands when they fell into the Bloodmoon rage and never came out on the other end, and he was desperate not to send too many there this time around.
Not that Alastair believed in working alone, he had yelled at everyone on his council and his warriors to snap them back into fuller attention to his demands. He knew the path he was on was going to make a lot of his closest companions and most trusted question his judgment. If too many challenged him-- it would be more blood on his hands and a waste of talent and life.
There was so much blood in the Ancient Forest already; it’s magics must love it.
With a steady stride he started making his way through the dark, leaving the shelter of Hala and headed alone north.
He didn’t have time for this. There was a split in his duties that often caused a lot of tension in his mood. On the one hand, he was looking at the overall picture for the whole pack and all of Vargulf Territory, not just in the present but of avoiding a forsaken future. There was this knowing instinct that the prophecy was unfolding right before his eyes and he was set to be unable to stop or slow it down.
You are the reason they all die.
You are the one that must be killed before it happens.
Today he had been set on reporting with his council, hunting the ancient forest for the missing Queen Mother for King Nathaniel, and then hopefully reading a few more pages of the tome Kali Ravenswood gave him on Gods. But it would seem today wasn’t to be a focus of the more significant image, today he would have to focus on one soul-- one wolf and their entire world which was changed.
Alastair handled these things only when Inga asked him too. Individual cases needed reassurance from the Alpha, and so he had to switch his mindset while he walked down the streets of Hala to find this new wolf. It felt almost fake, the humans and packmates living here didn’t know of the hardships they didn't have to face because they were protected by their Alpha. He wanted this peace forever, Alastair wanted Hala to flourish for hundreds of more years.
The weather was chilly; the snow was beautiful and melted against his warm skin not draped in furs and exposed to the elements. Someone ran out of their house and tossed a rabbit lined cloak over his shoulders, the elderly woman grabbing his hand with a squeeze and a gentle pat in passing as if such an article was necessary. It warmed his heart regardless, and he smiled for the first time in days.
“Is she here?” he asked when he walked into the Inn.
Vargulf Territory
Alastair’s House
Council and Warrior Meeting
"Nothing! You have found nothing about this person?!"
The alpha's voice penetrated the stone house he was standing in the middle of, every wolf in the room either froze or toppled to their knees from the deep growl which rumbled after. Alastair was frustrated, hatred not heated as it came in the mists of hunting but in rage, barely contained and held back like a dam waiting to shatter.
It's been building and rising in him the moment he had been taken and held captive, and those closest to him knew this was a dangerous place for their Alpha to be. He knew it too, having points in his history that marked drastic and sometimes violent changes in his Pack because of it. Change was necessary while leading and he was ready even if his Pack wasn’t they will fall in line.
Behind him on a table was one of their kin, a wolf with no pelt. They had died from the silver dagger through their chest which still protruded from their wolven state in death. Their body had been discovered by Alastair on travels back home from the Castle with Vera near the Hallowed Oak. Finding this hunter or witch responsible-- not just for taking him, but for also terrorizing his tribe, had to be found.
"I am tired of this," disappointment fed through the room and created a tar of sadness in his wolves who lowered their eyes, a few gritting their teeth in defeat. "Years, hundreds and hundreds of years I have lead you, and not one of my best can come up with a solution to this problem. What good are you to me, if I can not possess answers to help our family?"
He was unfair, an Inga's folded arms and defiant glare towards him made it known, but Alastair has been leading the pack towards peace and prosperity for the last five hundred years. Every step grew their numbers; new pack laws made systems better to keep them ready and trained even with adventure on their sights. But, he thinks he's been naive-- it was a mistake to think everything would always remain in such a state when this Kingdom was rising and conquering.
Alastair Ulric will not be caught off guard. Not without a fight and this had been why he’s been training spies and warriors in the background to hide their army.
"Anshega has real enemies out there. You listen to the rumors, and they say this about the wolves, 'we are strong, proud, stubborn people-- filthy, disgusting animals who shouldn't interfere with humanity-- they say we are powerful yet dangerous, monsters cloaked in human faces.'"
A wild noise comes out of a few closest wolves, and his own heart is thundering in anger-- a drum beat that makes him want to slam his fist into a shield and raise arms.
"Many think we are a peaceful tribe and they are correct, but do you think these crude rumors are from our allies? Perfected whispers, secrets and suggestion only comes from one type of creature we all know-- and I have demanded we hate."
Now a few growl, rising their gaze to him, and their natural connection fuels his words.
"When I ask you, my most trusted-- to find those people responsible for hurting our family I can not stand before you and be handed nothing!"
He roared, slamming his fist downward as black hair transformed up his forearms. All his body changed then, rising in height, eyes shifting into pools of bright amber except the right one which was white, teeth protruded near his partially homid face blended with the wolf. He was terrifying like this, his Garou form haunting now that half his pelt had been removed. The scar tissue was permanent, not even his healing could repair it, and the lines from the blade used to take his fur left a patchwork design from the top of his thigh through his hip upward.
"First the Bloodmoon, witches-- those with magic cause us to hurt our family and friends, then Leeds-- leading our warriors and most trained to protect our lands straight into Hell brought to Earth. Now The Guild-- a trusted Ally of our pack sides permanently with Athoria. Scales are tipping-- magic is in the middle of it all. Your feelings about this are instinctive to our nature, be cautious my family...
...because these enemies, they will move on those they feel are weak,"
He paused, his jowls lifting slightly as a growl rumbled deeply from his chest.
"Anshega is not weak! Find this witch or hunter who felt inclined to use one of our kind for their corrupted agenda! Bring them to me alive or dead. I do not care where they are aligned or who is hiding them.
Vera is by his side; the Castle illuminated in its new festive traditions around them. Alastair had contemplated coming or not, sending Tristan would have been a better decision, but he was here only to once more reassure the year ending that he was still a part of his vision for the country. Either way, he was here to pick something up and was glad he could kill two birds with one stone.
"You think they are here?" he was asked, and he glances down at his companion who was scouting the castle hall for the person they were hunting. He was glad she was here over others.
"They have to be," he grumbles.
Alastair hadn't spoken to anyone about what he saw from the birth of the Phoenix except with Vera. The flashes of light and bright, intense colors and vibrant exposure of something grand and mighty hovering around Vargulf Territory had presented a complex pathway to the Alpha. Either something awful was to come to his pack sooner than he wanted or something astonishing.
He wasn't a man who gambled, and he didn't enjoy the idea that it could be at his hand to shape it either way. Alastair stubbornly wanted everything to stay the same.
"There she is," Vera pointed at the young Ravenswood and Alastair sighed in relief. Now they could leave.
"Ms. Ravenswood," Vera waved her way, bringing her attention from others in the room. It was getting to be late into the evening, and Alastair had hoped more people would have retired by now. When a few made eye contact with Alastair, however, most turned their attention elsewhere.
"Evening!" Kali picked up her dress and trotted their way. "And Kali is fine, Alastair please-- I am no miss."
"You are technically, but that is fine," he chuckled. Vera brushed her hand around his wrist, cradling it in contact always meant to keep them close together so they could direct one another without it being obvious. Vera got nervous in public places, and they never knew when a vision could strike so it was good practice. He felt her tap his pulse point three times and smiled warmly at Kali Ravenswood.
"I brought the book you were requesting," Kali pulled on the strings of a small little pouch and stuck her entire hand inside of it. Alastair couldn't exactly look away from the insane concept of her arm being halfway through a bag no larger than a small coin purse. She pulled out the freshly cleaned tomb, a blue and black bound leather item with two inches of parchment sandwiched between it.
"It is so good to see you again Vera," Kali beamed, handing the book to Alastair who graciously took the item and tucked it securely in a satchel on his back.
"And you! The last we spoke was very long ago, that prophecy was important to secure at the Library. We-- we have some other matters we may need to talk with you and maybe your Father in private," Vera calmly said. Her fingers rubbed a circle on his wrist, and Alastair didn't pull away, not desiring to feel how fast Vera's heart was hammering but not wanting to freak out either.
"Is everything okay?" Kali kept her voice quiet, and with a light flick of her wrist and a gentle rub to a rune on her forearm, it seemed like a spell had surrounded them to make the party muffled. "Just to keep people from overhearing, they won't even notice unless we ignore them talking to us directly," Kali reassured.
"At the cauldron event, I saw Gaia in my vision," Alastair answered bluntly.
"Like-- Gaia, Gaia? The Mother of Wolves, Goddess of Earth Gaia?" Kali gaped a little, taking a step closer even with the spell around them.
"Yes," Alastair chuckled a little, "I would know her better than anyone else."
"Is that why you requested that book on Gods?" Kali tapped her cheek, "it has been in protection for a very long time mostly because it is precious for its accurate information, but I trust you with it, Alastair. May I ask what you saw in your vision as a payment of sort?"
Vera shook her head and waved a hand quickly between them, but Alastair could tell Vera was likely working herself up into a dangerous headspace of paranoia. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to his side to keep her quiet and calm.
"Okay," he responded. He glanced around the party once, noticing Nathaniel first out of habit, then other familiar faces who would probably love to have such information. They shouldn't be talking here, but he wasn't sure when he could see the Ravenswood or revisit the Library.
"I saw the fields of Vargulf draped in colors not typically seen, purples, blues, and in the center of it all was a powerful light and presence that I could only identify as Gaia. She wanted me to make a choice-- I just haven't figured out what she meant."
Kali's nose wrinkled in concern, "God's are a complicated area of study, unreliable information because most mortals lie and glorify moments they think are holy in nature. It is, well. You know Vera that visions are not always explaining the truth outright. Even images from the future can be altered immediately because of someone's free will."
"Are you saying we shouldn't look into this?" Alastair asked because he honestly did trust Kali's opinion.
"No--" Kali brushed her hair behind her ear. "I'm saying, that when the God's are involved in anything, it is not always a good thing. When a Pheonix is born, and you witness it, you are gifted with an insight to a crossroads in your life. One path is of rebirth; the other is of great destruction. The fact you believe your Mother at the center of it is discerning."
Alastair pondered that for a few seconds. Kali had a point; God's could take up any role they wanted. They could destroy just as easily as create. Kali reached out to thread her fingers through his own. Her heart rate was up, and a scent of fear wafted between them when her gaze rose to meet his.
"I don't want to see this as a negative thing Alastair, but perhaps those pathways are something deeper on your conscious already? It might not have anything to do with Gaia, it may just be your way of facing it, and that's why you saw her in it. Either way, we all were shown something that night and from what I have heard it's not all good nor bad. Even shown, doesn't mean it will happen. We create our own destiny."
"That's very poetic," Alastair rubbed the top of her hand, and she blushed a little.
"I will blame the elusive Graham for that," Kali responded.
"Fate, karma, destiny-- these are all things created to give purpose to a soul. There must be a pattern in there, something designed by the Gods for us to follow without us realizing it,"
"Perhaps you are getting old enough to allow you to see such a thing?" Kali inquired without meaning to sound rude.
"Maybe--" Alastair hadn't thought about it that way. He knew he was older than most beings on Earth, but he hadn't ever taken the time to see the influences of Gods before.
Kali slipped her hand away, "I will tell you this Alastair, and it is a secret I shouldn't speak on. There are ways to summon a God. It's alongside the same study as those witches who practice demonic summoning. It's, very similar if you can believe it, as God's required very random items in tribute. Much like the dragons. If you-- if you feel as if you can't let this go, or you have a need to look more into this. I will help you."
"You would help us summon Gaia?" Vera gaped.
"It's not the craziest thing someone has come to me before, it will likely not work, but-- as I said, I trust your judgment. If you feel this is vital to your Pack, Alastair-- please let me know."
"It's too soon for such a request, but I am extremely grateful for your assistance and understanding,"
"Of course, the library is open to all who want to seek knowledge. Simply write me okay?"
"Sure," Alastair nodded, and Kali walked away, dropping the spell with her.
"Alastair, this is dangerous-- why are you so fixated on Gods?" Vera whispered, Alastair wrapped his hand into hers, and they started walking out of the castle.
"What's dangerous is not knowing why I was captured and tortured with Porter. That person-- they didn't have a scent, no heartbeat I could hear-- I don't know who or what they were and yet they took my pelt, and from Porter? Who knows what but it was with reason. If we can find out what it takes to summon a God maybe we can narrow those reasons down."
"You think this is all part of a spell? Even with Gaia’s involvement in your vision?"
"I do, the question is. Who are they trying to summon and why is she warning me."
It was always about mortals, of course. And Zadkiel hadn’t intended to argue about it at all. Hence, she stared at Alastair in an incredulous way as she pondered about what had been said. Starting when had this conversation ended up so terribly deep and off tangent? She’d merely wanted to know whether he could tell what she was. It wasn’t often that angels revealed their true identities; meeting one was rare. Though surely when someone was as old as this child of the moon, one would think he’d already met one or two. The miscommunication was apparent, but she didn’t brush it off either. It was entertaining in some way or another.
“I do. More than you could imagine, Alastair Ulric.” A dangerous smile curved her lips up into a beautiful crescent. She moved until she stood in front of him and raised a finger.
“Let me be clear about one thing. I’ve been watching over humanity for as long as it exists already. Which makes me probably far older than you.” She dropped her hand again. “I appreciate your input, but there is nothing that I don’t know about it. What I indeed do have to learn more about though, are the factors that are able to influence these precious beings.” As if to punctuate her words, she allowed her gaze to wander over his form again, for the second time that evening. And after a beat, she too studied the banners and knights of the Kingdom. Everything in Athoria was interrelated and humanity was the heart of its foundation. Her only duty was to protect it, and should a threat arise to it–it was also part of her duty to eliminate. “Karma will forever be mortality’s shadow. One can’t exist without the other, just as Karma ultimately can’t exist without death either.” She was talking in riddles at this point, all which pointed towards her.
“The cauldron will be ready soon. Perhaps this is a good moment to leave you to your pack to enjoy it.”
A rumbling laugh came out of the old creature; his nose didn’t betray him when around other entities but he’s learned to never pry or prod about such questions out of respect. He hated when people focused solely on his species instead of learning who he was first, especially when it came to respecting and his role in the lands. Even still, he didn’t entirely know what she meant, and so he let the mystery elude him, taking in her words as simple notes of advice like a melody.
Influence, as if any one person or being could hope to sway the mortal mind. He learned that painful truth when he lost his dearest friend Franco Athor. Now, that man could have lead this county places, maybe realized the power, not within the vampires but in the wolves had Alastair had enough time to show him their way of life was peaceful and fruitful. But as always, mortals were faced with a weigh on the souls, drag to a place unknown and yet very much existed. And however here he was more time passing, another mortal King, another layer of issues that he will continuously address.
“Yes,” he hummed, reaching out with a gentle caress to entwine the fingers, in his hand was a simple leather twine with two strikingly beautiful blue beads woven into the knot. “Take this; you seem to have more questions then answers you are finding. The children here-- they make them for the church of Athoria, let the kids in their care without a home know that family doesn’t have to be by blood. Pack life is about extending protection and unity through every soul, protecting it fiercely and living the best version of your life. Maybe, it would be good to have something that reminds you of that. Not to pick a fight with you, or make assumptions. But remembering family always keeps my mind clear to see the answers that elude me.”
With a gentle pat on the top of her hands, he left her side.
