Post by jiminiminy on Sept 22, 2010 20:50:02 GMT -5
Water, despite being the most abundant compound on the earth's surface, has always been the most vital, and that which has been fought over innumerable times. Whether human, wolf, or any other being, water is the most important and basic aspect of survival. As such, it has the ironic distinction for being the cause of much death over its posession. Nyspoli, though, had been exempt from the fate that used to plague the Aughgar and Drarynough prior to the comparitavely more definite pack borders that presently existed. Perhaps due to the natural barriers, or a location that was close to the border, the clear pool had always been free of war. As a result of this freedom, there were other pursuits that were taken upon her virgin waters. And to be sure, they were not any less bloody.
____________________________
The wolf stood upon the stump of a tree that had reciently been stricken by an odd series of events, leaving it fairly cleanly cut. In front of him were about three dozen other wolves, standing and sitting, male and female, young and old. They were all Arctic. They were all reverent in their adoration and focus on the wolf above them. He could see them all, his congregation, his people. They trusted him. They loved him. They feared him. He was their leader. He was their father. He was their beginning and end. No doubt was in any of their minds as to his absolute power. The doubt then fell upon him as a result.
____________________________
The Wanderer started walking around the shore of the lake, looking into her waters. Some of the fish stopped their daily routines to look at his shadow in the water, their ignorant eyes staring at him for but a fleeting second before continuing their paths to make up lost time. Were these the only ones who still had the minds to listen? A fleeting thought brushed aside by reality. A people will not be led by someone without a purpose, no matter the ultimate effect or even immeadiate connotations of that purpose. What was his purpose? Was there one anymore? Was The Wanderer merely that, a wolf doomed to stalk the lands for eternity?
Was being a game piece any better than these fates?
The Wanderer stopped, looking at the fish again. This time they made no movement astray from their norm, continuing along without any acknowledgement of their overseer. They seemed to know where they were going, what they were doing. They were individuals, big and small, who were dependant on one another for breeding, protection, and food. They were a community, they were a congregation, no single part less than another in the sum of the whole. The Wanderer's voice was strained, as if he had been yelling for a time, and the once low, rumbling quality was now more that of the final notes in an opera. Tired, but still defiantly present.
"Hello."
The fish didn't move.
"Hello."[/color]
____________________________
Doubt. That ever present factor of life. Those who can take it away often find themselves burdened with it to a far greater degree than would be normal for an individual. Some find a way to cope, others do not.
The people watched as another wolf was brought before them. The Elder upon the stump still spoke, words that had been rehersed and rerehersed hundreds of times. They held no meaning to him, but they were everything to his people. The new wolf was an Arabian, a young male who looked to be somewhere between three and four years of age. The Elder admired his youth, and, though he was fearful, he was still a fine example of a warrior in his prime. The Elder shifted his eyes to the Arabian. An unrehearsed guesture. The more watchful people identified an irregularity. They murmured softly before simmering down, quelled by the booming voice of their watcher.
"We see the face of our enemy, who seeks to destroy our people and our ways of life! Though their numbers are great and their people strong they cannot stand up to us! We are not simply wolves, for Aniahtzu lives in the hearts and minds of all who pay heed to him, and he has forced these people to attack so that we may cleanse them of their evil ways! For though they may come, we will win many victories! And though they barricade their lands and blockade us from our victory, we shall not falter! For we are the chosen ones, who will proudly defend what is ours against those that would harm it."
The wolves howled and cheered. The Arabian began to look signifigantly flightier.
____________________________
The Exile didn't shift his gaze from the water, watching the fish and their movements trace along the currents and pathways invisible to all others. The Exile imagined that they were travelling between families and packs of their own, and that this single pool was to them as Anikira was to him and the others. The Elder stood behind The Exile, watching the frantic movements of his eyes as they darted across the clear surface of the water. Though the younger wolf cast a shadow across their movements, The Elder did not.
"You can know what I am thinking. You always can. If there is a question you seek, then you can find it yourself. I refuse to cooperate."
The Elder stayed silent and immobile.
"I suppose of all of them you are going to be the quiet one right? The only one who has nothing to say?"
"words are for those who have not said enough."
The Exile laughed. Perhaps it was the creeping presense of insanity, or more likely senility, but he laughed at this for far longer than was necessary. The Elder was stationary.
____________________________
"Upon the return to the fields of battle we found our foes disoriented and broken. And as the barriers fell we began our attack anew, for the enemy had stumbled and fallen, leaving their defenses fallow in our wake, and we repaid their kindness through a swift death, ending the ceaseless pain of a life in fear. For what is a life lived if it only exists to serve another's?"
The Arabian stopped struggling.
"But the gods do not allow freedom and victory without sacrifice. The people will not follow us without Tradition, and Piety."
Is this the people's will. Is this what is necessary. Will they believe this forever. Is this the day that marks the beginning of a glorious decrechendo.
The Arabian was brought before The Orator. The people cheered and heckled the outsider with xenophobic glee, shouting insults and laughing at him. The Orator looked down upon the wolf. Such a young boy.
"Our safety demands sacrifice. Our GOD demands sacrifice."
The Orator's voice dropped. It was unheard amidst the crowd.
"And it may not always be our duty to provide it."
____________________________
The Younger had stopped laughing, merely grinning to himself as he looked at the fish, who continued in their melodic way through the water. The Orator stood behind him, watching closer.
"You know for someone who's more or less a second conscience you don't really object to much. I could get used to someone like you."
The Orator moved, a sutble shifting of weight that was given signifigance only by the lack of anything prior. His muzzle was now closer to The Younger's ear, and The Orator's words were much clearer as a result.
"choices are not for me to be making for you, as that which i must wait for is an inevitability regardless of interference from others like me or others like you. regardless of what you do or do not act upon my goals will be met within the constraints of a medium that for me is limitless. i am here to remind you of many thing, most of which you have chosen to forget. but from that the moral is not for me to state, but for you, as an individual, to identify.
"you need not object. like you said previously: i know what you are thinking. i always will. i dont need to state the moral for you because you will already know it, and that is a fact that i am stating, not a claim i am making. how you handle that information, or whether you acknowledge it, is entirely up to you, and how you are going to is entirely irrelevant."
The Younger stood, rapidly turning to face the Orator. Of them all he was the most elusive. The Younger could not recall his appearance or even his age. As it was, such things remained unknown, as The Younger found himself alone again. Just him and the fish. He shifted slightly, causing the water to ripple and the fish to scatter.
Just him.
____________________________
The Arabian was brought before The Despot. Was this what was necessary for his people. Was this what the new settlers of the continent asked for, genocide and warfare.
The Despot lunged from his position, his massive form and heavy body overpowering the Arabian with ease. He held him pinned for a moment, looking at his face. Around him the wolves cheered. He heard a young voice, no more than a few months, calling out for the spilling of blood. Were these people worthy of salvation. Were they really the chosen ones.
"May you be purged by the holy fires."
Such a young boy.
In one swift moment blood soaked The Despot. Nyspoli had her clear waters tainted crimson once more by the will of her people.
The pack cheered. In that instant, all doubt was gone.
____________________________
The wolf stood upon the stump of a tree that had reciently been stricken by an odd series of events, leaving it fairly cleanly cut. In front of him were about three dozen other wolves, standing and sitting, male and female, young and old. They were all Arctic. They were all reverent in their adoration and focus on the wolf above them. He could see them all, his congregation, his people. They trusted him. They loved him. They feared him. He was their leader. He was their father. He was their beginning and end. No doubt was in any of their minds as to his absolute power. The doubt then fell upon him as a result.
____________________________
The Wanderer started walking around the shore of the lake, looking into her waters. Some of the fish stopped their daily routines to look at his shadow in the water, their ignorant eyes staring at him for but a fleeting second before continuing their paths to make up lost time. Were these the only ones who still had the minds to listen? A fleeting thought brushed aside by reality. A people will not be led by someone without a purpose, no matter the ultimate effect or even immeadiate connotations of that purpose. What was his purpose? Was there one anymore? Was The Wanderer merely that, a wolf doomed to stalk the lands for eternity?
Was being a game piece any better than these fates?
The Wanderer stopped, looking at the fish again. This time they made no movement astray from their norm, continuing along without any acknowledgement of their overseer. They seemed to know where they were going, what they were doing. They were individuals, big and small, who were dependant on one another for breeding, protection, and food. They were a community, they were a congregation, no single part less than another in the sum of the whole. The Wanderer's voice was strained, as if he had been yelling for a time, and the once low, rumbling quality was now more that of the final notes in an opera. Tired, but still defiantly present.
"Hello."
The fish didn't move.
"Hello."[/color]
____________________________
Doubt. That ever present factor of life. Those who can take it away often find themselves burdened with it to a far greater degree than would be normal for an individual. Some find a way to cope, others do not.
The people watched as another wolf was brought before them. The Elder upon the stump still spoke, words that had been rehersed and rerehersed hundreds of times. They held no meaning to him, but they were everything to his people. The new wolf was an Arabian, a young male who looked to be somewhere between three and four years of age. The Elder admired his youth, and, though he was fearful, he was still a fine example of a warrior in his prime. The Elder shifted his eyes to the Arabian. An unrehearsed guesture. The more watchful people identified an irregularity. They murmured softly before simmering down, quelled by the booming voice of their watcher.
"We see the face of our enemy, who seeks to destroy our people and our ways of life! Though their numbers are great and their people strong they cannot stand up to us! We are not simply wolves, for Aniahtzu lives in the hearts and minds of all who pay heed to him, and he has forced these people to attack so that we may cleanse them of their evil ways! For though they may come, we will win many victories! And though they barricade their lands and blockade us from our victory, we shall not falter! For we are the chosen ones, who will proudly defend what is ours against those that would harm it."
The wolves howled and cheered. The Arabian began to look signifigantly flightier.
____________________________
The Exile didn't shift his gaze from the water, watching the fish and their movements trace along the currents and pathways invisible to all others. The Exile imagined that they were travelling between families and packs of their own, and that this single pool was to them as Anikira was to him and the others. The Elder stood behind The Exile, watching the frantic movements of his eyes as they darted across the clear surface of the water. Though the younger wolf cast a shadow across their movements, The Elder did not.
"You can know what I am thinking. You always can. If there is a question you seek, then you can find it yourself. I refuse to cooperate."
The Elder stayed silent and immobile.
"I suppose of all of them you are going to be the quiet one right? The only one who has nothing to say?"
"words are for those who have not said enough."
The Exile laughed. Perhaps it was the creeping presense of insanity, or more likely senility, but he laughed at this for far longer than was necessary. The Elder was stationary.
____________________________
"Upon the return to the fields of battle we found our foes disoriented and broken. And as the barriers fell we began our attack anew, for the enemy had stumbled and fallen, leaving their defenses fallow in our wake, and we repaid their kindness through a swift death, ending the ceaseless pain of a life in fear. For what is a life lived if it only exists to serve another's?"
The Arabian stopped struggling.
"But the gods do not allow freedom and victory without sacrifice. The people will not follow us without Tradition, and Piety."
Is this the people's will. Is this what is necessary. Will they believe this forever. Is this the day that marks the beginning of a glorious decrechendo.
The Arabian was brought before The Orator. The people cheered and heckled the outsider with xenophobic glee, shouting insults and laughing at him. The Orator looked down upon the wolf. Such a young boy.
"Our safety demands sacrifice. Our GOD demands sacrifice."
The Orator's voice dropped. It was unheard amidst the crowd.
"And it may not always be our duty to provide it."
____________________________
The Younger had stopped laughing, merely grinning to himself as he looked at the fish, who continued in their melodic way through the water. The Orator stood behind him, watching closer.
"You know for someone who's more or less a second conscience you don't really object to much. I could get used to someone like you."
The Orator moved, a sutble shifting of weight that was given signifigance only by the lack of anything prior. His muzzle was now closer to The Younger's ear, and The Orator's words were much clearer as a result.
"choices are not for me to be making for you, as that which i must wait for is an inevitability regardless of interference from others like me or others like you. regardless of what you do or do not act upon my goals will be met within the constraints of a medium that for me is limitless. i am here to remind you of many thing, most of which you have chosen to forget. but from that the moral is not for me to state, but for you, as an individual, to identify.
"you need not object. like you said previously: i know what you are thinking. i always will. i dont need to state the moral for you because you will already know it, and that is a fact that i am stating, not a claim i am making. how you handle that information, or whether you acknowledge it, is entirely up to you, and how you are going to is entirely irrelevant."
The Younger stood, rapidly turning to face the Orator. Of them all he was the most elusive. The Younger could not recall his appearance or even his age. As it was, such things remained unknown, as The Younger found himself alone again. Just him and the fish. He shifted slightly, causing the water to ripple and the fish to scatter.
Just him.
____________________________
The Arabian was brought before The Despot. Was this what was necessary for his people. Was this what the new settlers of the continent asked for, genocide and warfare.
The Despot lunged from his position, his massive form and heavy body overpowering the Arabian with ease. He held him pinned for a moment, looking at his face. Around him the wolves cheered. He heard a young voice, no more than a few months, calling out for the spilling of blood. Were these people worthy of salvation. Were they really the chosen ones.
"May you be purged by the holy fires."
Such a young boy.
In one swift moment blood soaked The Despot. Nyspoli had her clear waters tainted crimson once more by the will of her people.
The pack cheered. In that instant, all doubt was gone.