Category: Stories

He asked me whether I had gone through the door.
I had no answer, after all, we were in the middle of a dense forest, and doors are not quite common elements in these remote places.

Not hearing me say anything, the Laudam asked again whether I had gone through the door.
I wasn’t sure what his question meant, but I hadn’t gone through any doors, so I said no.

He fixed me with a malevolent stare, and then bounded closer to me quick as lightning; he seemed to be made out of wood and earth, like something that had crawled out of the dry roots of an old oak. Tiny butterflies floated around him as though waiting for a single breath of life to come out of his lips.

This was an old being, that much was clear to me. His feet were a strange mix of elder things and animal parts. I thought that maybe one day, a long time ago, the Laudam had been more made of flesh than pulp, but after so many years living in the woods, this transformation seemed almost expected, and almost welcomed.

Once he was satisfied with my scent, he turned and stretched is finger to point at something amazing.
Right there, in the middle of the forest, as if it had been there the whole time, there was a door.

It wasn’t a door like any other, which is saying quite a lot. Aside from the fact that it hadn’t been there a second before, and aside from the fact that it was in the middle of a forest, there was something rather particular about this door. It didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

Standing as it was it didn’t separate a room from a hallway, or a kitchen from a living room, like its cousins, the more normal doors, usually do. It was as though this door separated one side from the other, which was no obstacle at all if one decided to simply walk around the panel.

However, when I tried to point out such an obvious observation, the Laudam made me quiet with a crack from his barked lips, he said to me that such comments were not welcome, and that if I wanted to ever achieve the right, or rather, the privilege of walking through the door, I would have to be in my best behavior.

The wisdom of my lonely nights is not a deep one, but it doesn’t take a wise man to know when to be quiet. So I closed my mouth and waited for the Laudam to walk around me snapping his fingers until he spoke again.

He asked me if I had come looking for the door.
I said no, since that was the simple truth.

He asked me then what was that I was looking for. I told him that I was looking for the sacred place where all questions can be answered, where all mysteries are revealed, the place where all lies can be uncovered.

The Laudam laughed with a terrible and resounding laughter, and his voice echoed through the forest like an explosion of terror, like a hundred drums were suddenly playing a thousand year old melody only to go quiet the next instant, never to play again.

When he finally stopped laughing, he told me I was in fact, looking for the door.
I looked at him bemused and not understanding very well what he had just said. He then explained to me that only those who were looking for the door could talk to the Laudam, and since I was talking to him, even if I didn’t know it, obviously this was the door I was looking for. The logic of the argument revolved upon itself in a manner that I couldn’t quite comprehend, but that I was ready to accept.

I asked him if the door was the sacred place.
His oaken smile was briefly accented; he told me that the door was the place I had been looking for, the place where all the answers await.

He asked me once again if I was looking for the door.
I said yes.

The Laudam walked slowly to a fallen tree and sat down. Once immobile it would be impossible to spot him without the prior knowledge that he was sitting right there. I hesitated for a moment and then asked him about his own question. He told me that only those who sought the door could walk through it. After another apprehensive pause I decided to ask him why would he wonder whether I had already crossed the door. The Laudam looked at me quizzically.

He asked me if I even understood what I was looking for. He told me that walking through the door was not a simple matter, but rather the opposite, it was a magical contract, it was a change of reality, it was a new life. He asked me if I was ready for it.

I told him I didn’t understand what he was saying.

His rage came so quickly I didn’t even notice it. In an instant he was kneeling over me, pushing me against the earth and the mud as if I were an insect. His rough hands were cutting into my chest and the weight of his old body was stopping my breath.
He told me I was an idiot for coming to this remote place, for daring to search for that which I didn’t fully understand, he told me that the best thing I could do was to forget this place completely and never come back.

I told him I was looking for the sacred place, and that these kinds of quests often bring unexpected things. How can a man adventure beyond the known seas and the charted deserts if he required knowledge and comprehension of what he would find at his destination? Did the first men to touch the North Pole, or those who climbed the highest mountains on the earth, fully understand the risks they would find on the path?

The Laudam looked at me curiously and shifted his weight so that I could breathe again. He gave me a fleeting smile and told me that he was what he would call, a risk on the path.

It was then that the Laudam explained to me what the door was. Though the first thing he said was that he was its guardian. Nobody could walk through the door without his approval. The door itself was a rather simple looking panel made of wood from trees that no longer live on the earth, but the most particular thing about the door was not the material it was made of, but rather, the manner in which it was constructed

The Laudam told me that the door was as old as the world, and that when everything started, so many years ago, the door was closed and he was given the task to guard it. When the door was closed, the secrets of the life and of the death were trapped on the other side and the men than came to be later didn’t know these secrets.

As the years went by, the men that were became sentient and asked themselves about the meaning of life, of thought, of being and of death, but they didn’t find any answers, no matter how hard they tried.

They couldn’t find them because those answers were behind the door.

Entire philosophies and religions were designed, crafted and conceived to try and explain the meaning of the lost things, but for all their efforts, the answers they invented were always incomplete, subjective, absurd or just plain ridiculous.

That was, until the first man found the door.
That man had been looking for answers just like his brothers, but he thought that maybe those answers could be found in nature, and in the old things. Other men made fun of him, they expelled him from their primitive tribes, but the man was not discouraged and on he looked, one day finding the Laudam, and becoming the first man to walk through the door.

I started to ask what had been the fate of that man, but the Laudam hushed me with a glance and continued.

With time, other men had come, they had walked through and had discovered the truths of the world, and even though sometimes they were many centuries apart, there always came another man looking for the door.

And now that man was me.

The Laudam fixed me with his most terrifying stare yet, and asked me if I wanted to walk through.
I told him I had questions.
He told me that was natural.
My questions were more of form than of lore, more than being curious about what would I find on the other side, I wanted to know what had happened to those men who had crossed, but more than anything, I wanted to know why would anyone want to cross again.

The Laudam was surprised, I could tell. He told me I was a rather unusual human, but he was satisfied with my questions, which he considered wise. He explained that by walking through the door all the truths are revealed, but such as they are unto themselves, these truths can only be understood by those who have crossed. Many men before me had yielded to the temptation of telling their brothers and their friends about the truths of the world, only to discover that no one else could understand them. After a fashion, they became weary and lonely, and died of sadness and abandonment.

Some had come back to the door, trying to go back to a world where the answers are unknown. But that is not they way things work. To walk through the door once again was to become part of that all encompassing existence, pure and serene, it was to transcend the inexorable truths of the universe and to never come back. I told the Laudam I didn’t think that to be such a terrible destiny, but his eyes made me understand I should remain quiet. He asked whether I had a single clue what it was like to become an inexorable truth.
I told him I didn’t
He told me in that case I should not open my mouth to say stupid things.

The Laudam took me in front of the door and asked me once again if I wanted to walk through.
I took a deep breath and thought hard about how little I knew, about all the hardships I endured when looking for this place and the sleepless nights that led to this moment.

Then I thought of those who had come before me, those who had found the door and had crossed, I though how sublime must be the feeling of ultimate understanding, to be so close to the fundamental purpose of the universe, how lonely it must be to not be able to share it with anyone.

But on the other side of the door lied the answers to all the questions, everything I had dreamed about was right there, waiting for me, waiting to let me drink of its essence.
Standing there, on the verge of achieving everything I ever hoped for, I found myself afraid of making my wishes come true, realizing that the price to pay was perhaps too high.
I couldn’t remember why I had started this journey, but I remembered having more fun looking for the door than actually finding it. Life, it occurred to me, was more beautiful out on the winding path, not in the static destination.
Divinity was a step away from me, but divinity was solitude.
I found my answer, I told the Laudam that I did not wish to walk trough the door.

His smile was kind for the first time and he patted my back and told me that all was well, I could go on and find the answers by myself, he pointed me in a direction to continue my journey and gave me a sharp push to help me get started.

I walked slowly to the edge of the clearing and the Laudam called out to me and told me that if I continued in the direction I was going, straight to the north, it would be only a few minutes until I reached the sacred place were all the answers can be found, where all the mysteries are revealed, where all the lies can be uncovered. He told me on this path I would reach the garden of beginnings, the cradle of the world, the first place, the original thought…

I asked him where did the door lead to then.
He smiled malevolently and stood still, becoming a part of the canvas, like another shadow in the forest, I tried to keep him in my sight but soon discovered something more important.

The door was gone.

Ulegu was paralyzed with shock. Maybe shock mixed with a bit of fear. The shock was quite understandable; he was, after all, in the presence of his dead brother, of whose death he had no news of until this very moment.

Finding out this way was definitely shocking, not to say, unwelcome and rather sad. And yet, Ulegu was almost sure that this was the way he would find out about his brother’s death, if he was ever to receive the news at all.

The fear was however, a strange sensation. Ulegu had not expected to feel fear upon his brother’s death. But upon consideration, fear was after all not unwarranted.

Nobody, absolutely nobody, knew that Ulegu had a brother. And nobody could ever find out.

“This is the last of the Warriors”, said a voice. Ulegu turned surprised and his heart skipped a beat.
“Is everything all right, Keeper?” The man speaking to Ulegu was a General, and yet his tone was appropriately respectful for one addressing the Keeper of the Dead. But Ulegu saw a suspicious glint in the General’s eyes; he had been staring at his brother’s body for too long. He was an anonymous soldier of no importance, and Ulegu knew that he should have paid him little attention and instead concentrated on the great Warrior Parakel, whose body rested on another table only a few feet away.

Ulegu knew all this, but the shock and the fear had paralyzed him the instant his eyes had recognized his older sibling, his only family left, the one he had not seen for so many years.

He made a gesture of grandiose elaboration and pronounced in a pompous voice.

“Not everything is all right General, so many of our children have come back to us in eternal sleep… it saddens me that I now must take care of them all.”

The General was slightly taken aback, but gave Ulegu an understanding smile.

“The war has been crude”, the General said. “And many of our warriors have given their lives so that our Kingdom may flourish and grow, especially Parakel. Oh Keeper, he deserves your magic and your care more than any other we have brought to you tonight!”

“Do you mean to tell me my art?” Asked Ulegu enraged. He wasn’t mad at any transgression on the General’s part, though one had occurred. He was mad that the appropriate thing to do was to ignore his own brother altogether as if he was nobody. He would not, he could not…

“Forgive me, Keeper. It was not my intention…” The General trailed off, he was positively alarmed as he bowed deeply and then continued apologizing profusely.

“Leave me to my matters!” pronounced Ulegu and with this, the General and his soldiers left the Chamber of Preparation and closed the doors behind them. Nobody would disturb the Keeper now, no one would come knocking for any reason, no one would dare interrupt the rituals of preparation that the Clerics of the Kingdom had to perform on the recently deceased, even less when a figure of the importance of Parakel the warrior was one of the departed. In many other occasions, an underling would do these complicated and mystical rituals, but this time, given the importance of the warrior, and the historical relevance of the battle in which he had fallen, the Master himself, the Keeper of the Dead would perform the rites.

“There is neither class nor status that will keep me from being” Ulegu whispered to himself as if chanting a mantra. Then he started crying.

He cried for what it felt like an eternity, Ulegu cried until he felt he would run out of tears. He cried for his brother, for the lifetime that separated them. He cried for his father, who gave his life for both of them so many years ago. He cried for his mother, who had chosen to suffer quietly so that her two sons would have a chance in the world.

Ulegu knew that if anyone saw him right now, prostrated at his brother’s lap, they would suspect strangeness and questions would arise. And even though he had been very careful to conceal his past, a thorough review of his life was certain to uncover facts that must remain hidden.

Among those facts, clearly, was Ulegu’s relation to this warrior in front of him. But there was also the fact that Ulegu had not been born a Cleric, or that his brother had not been born a Warrior.
They had both been born servants; they had both been born dirtmouths.

There wasn’t much to do when one was born a dirtmouth, that was what one would be until death. The mandate imposed by the Kingdom was clear: You are what you are from birth to the last trip; pray you have a good life so that the spirits on the other side have compassion on your soul.

Ulegu had never believed. His brother had never believed. They both had learned to not believe in the lies the Kingdom told to all the peoples, they had been taught well by their father, for he always said: “There is neither class nor status that will keep you from being who you want to be”.

Ulegu had been a young boy when fate had proven his father right.

Servants as they were, they always found themselves at the mercy of the higher classes. And if it was their whim that they should starve, then starve they would. And starving they were. Ulegu’s father was sick on the bones and could not properly serve, and his mother as a maid was more abused than rewarded. Both Ulegu and his brother were still too young to work the mines and were used as errand boys by an aristocrat who had a knack for hitting them both with a cane.

“Fate will provide something better than this” his father always said. He kept on saying so until the day he died.

Ulegu remembered as though it had happened yesterday, it was a day of summer and the heat was scorching. The Aristocrat had brought his two new protégés from a far land, and as a welcome gift he was going to give each a personal slave.

And so they had come to see Ulegu and his older brother, in their fine clothes and their snobbish manners, pointing at the poverty and the precarious houses that surrounded them and laughing; laughing at the dirtmouths and their cursed existence.

Then, Fate struck.

Ulegu had never been in an earthquake before, much less one so strong. The ground shook and heaved, and the rage of the planet came upon them all.

Ulegu and his family survived. The same was not true for the Aristocrat and his two protégés. They very structures they had been mocking came tumbling down upon them. Their young faces still had expressions of hilarity as they lay there, in the middle of the chaos that ensued.

Ulegu’s father came to them and said: “There is neither class nor status that will keep you from being someone else, someone with a better life, are you ready?”

There had been very little time to do all the things that had to get done, and each step along the way weighed heavy on Ulegu’s heart.

They had stripped the two boys of their clothes and their jewels, and they had said their goodbyes, and they had prayed to never be discovered in this, the biggest crime one could ever commit against the Kingdom.

When the Guards came looking for survivors, for they had received news that some where in these parts, they found a young Cleric apprentice and a young boy born as a Warrior; both whom had come from far away lands and were injured, dirty and confused, after a house had collapsed on top of them killing their mentor and protector. Only the fortune of those born in noble crib had saved them.

The Guards also found that a dirtmouth had burned the bodies of his two dead sons, which was a grave crime. Disposing of the dead, helping them in the last trip, giving them departure from this world lest they stay trapped here forever: that was the work of a Cleric.

It didn’t matter that the two dead were simple servants. Naturally, the Great Keeper would not be preparing them himself, but rather one of his lower underlings. Still, for a dirtmouth to have burned the bodies to ashes was a transgression of the code punishable by death.

And so the execution had been carried out, and a servant woman had been left to mourn the death of her sons alone. It was said that she never spoke again.

Ulegu had taken the place of the young Cleric, for he was of more agile mind and could learn refined manners. His brother instead, was broader on the shoulders and more fit for the field, so he became the Warrior.

That day, after dishonoring the dead bodies of two young boys, Ulegu had said goodbye to his family. He knew he could never see them or seek them again.

More tears shed out of Ulegu’s eyes as he remembered all of this. He missed his mother, the wonderful woman who had made him promise he’d never try to find her again. Ulegu had broken this promise, though it would be many years before he managed it.

The high classes had taken care of the young Cleric that had survived the earthquake. A new mentor had been found for him and the things he had forgotten after his trauma were taught to him again. He was an avid student and before too long he became an underling to the Keeper and started learning the arts of the dead.

After many nights spent sending souls on their last trip, the Keeper had deemed him his apprentice, an honor so unique that it gave Ulegu a higher status among his peers.
The first thing he did with his new status was to request a servant. Using his contacts, his connections and the respect he had earned by others in the Kingdom, he had procured himself an older woman who had gone mute the day she had lost her sons in a catastrophe almost forgotten.

For Ulegu, this had been what had made it all worth it. To be able, at last, if only in the privacy of his quarters, to give his mother the care she always had for him. She was old and tired by then, but she had smiled every day she spent in the company of her son.

They spoke often about the choices they had made, and she always repeated the words that Ulegu’s father had taught them all: neither class nor status could keep him from being who he was.

When she died of old age, happy and well fed, it was Ulegu himself who prepared her soul for the last trip. It had been Ulegu’s most perfect ritual.

Ulegu cried for her mother once more, and evoked a prayer so that her soul would make it through the long trek of darkness and find peace at last.

Ulegu had also used his connections to try and find the Warrior that had survived with him that fateful day, but was never able to hear news of what had happened to him. He had been sent to far away camps where letters didn’t arrive and responses never came back.

But now he had his news at last. His brother had not been as fortunate as he had. Starting as a Warrior, he had never raised himself above that status. A nameless warrior he had remained his whole life.

Ulegu could easily deduct how the end had come for his brother. At some point, he had been assigned to the great Parakel and sent to battle in the name of a Kingdom that would see them live in misery and laugh at them. And now here he was, with no rank, with no name, next to the acclaimed Parakel, who would be honored for all history, the great Parakel who would be embalmed tonight and preserved as a hero among the people of the Kingdom.

Ulegu stopped crying suddenly as an idea formed in his mind. It started as a small thought, but it had soon rolled down the crevices of his brain gaining speed like a snowball. He looked from his brother to Parakel, noticing the similarities in build and height, noticing that the famous warrior had his legendary sword by his side, the one that would accompany him in his honorable place among the greatest of the Kingdom.

Ulegu considered the implications of his idea. If the truth was ever found he would be sentenced to death and his body would be tossed aside so that he’d never make the last trip. But if he succeeded… it would be his last act of rebellion against the Kingdom that never gave him a chance. This deception was greater than any other he had ever planned, and he had become a master of deception in his time.

Ulegu laughed at his own daring, and his laughter bounced off the walls of the chamber in a resounding echo that none but the dead could hear.

Fate had struck again.

It had been only weeks since the previous Keeper of the Dead had taken his last trip and Ulegu had ascended to the post. It had been the natural progression of things, as he was the highest apprentice at the time and therefore it was his duty to become the Master of the Clerics. He hadn’t given this much thought, he had simply done what must be done. But now, he felt as though fate had put him in this place so that he may do exactly the thing he was planning on doing.

All the dead in the chamber be damned, Ulegu took the sword from Parakel’s side and lay it next to his brother. A long night waited ahead. He would have to do much preparation and reconstruction. He would have to draw Parakel’s tattoos in his brother’s skin and change hair and eyes, and he knew how to do all these things, he was the Master of the Clerics, the Keeper of the Dead, none but him could take a body and make him look young and in all his glory again. He had done this many a time for Kings that wanted to look powerful in death, or Queens who wanted the beauty of their young years before the last trip.

He would do it this time, for his brother, so that he may have a name that would last forever, so that his soul would be revered as a warrior who had done nothing different than he had. Ulegu thought this would be a lie, but then again, so it had been his whole life, just like Ulegu’s own.

Still laughing at the absurdity of this world, he chanted the old mantra to his brother: “Neither class nor status will keep you from being Parakel”, and set himself to work.

I fell in love once.

No, it wasn’t the only time I ever fell in love, but it was the first one.

Now, if it’s ever been true that being first in life is important, then being first in love must be… well, everything!

Her name was Mariana, and she as beautiful as a morning and so smart she shined. I used to call her Mary for short, but when I wanted to drown in the agony of her name I would use all the letters she had impregnated with her beauty:
Mariana Anastasiya Melnikova, Daughter of Ariadna.

I remember when I met her. I remember that day because the clouds had shapes of elephants and bunnies and of good omens.
And then I saw her walking towards me in all her presence… and I never talk to strangers, but her… I knew her since the day that I was born.

And I asked her “Do you want to take a walk?” but what I really meant was “Do you want to fall in love? … Do you want to spend the rest of your life with this poor soul that would die for you?”.
She said yes.
To the walk.
And later, to other things as well.

They say that love is blind, and I think that I was blind. I never saw it coming. I never saw him coming, or going, as many times as he did, and I never saw her going. Going to a place I could not follow.

And I would have never known if not for the tragedy that walked into my life. And I damn the world for being so unfair, and unpredictable… and natural. And I cried an ocean inside when I found out that the rage and the filth of this world had taken her away. And her funeral was somber, but not as somber as my soul.

One day, I was sitting on a solitary bench, just as reality came crashing down on my head and I was ready to give up. That’s when this old man sat next to me and then he looked me in the eye and said “Love Should Always end with Hope”.

And I understood, I understood what he meant. Because that day I started remembering my love.
And I hoped.
I hoped with my heart out to the sun.
I hoped like the man that has nothing else to hope for that I would not forget to love.

And it worked.

Today, I know that love… was not Mariana Anastasiya Melnikova, may her soul rest with the light. I loved her.

But the love… the love is mine.

A shadow moved in the night, four paws silently approached the high rock, and as they did, the scent of hunger and rage and the stench of tired steps announced the presence of the wolf returned.

The watch noticed all this, and from the darkness that protected them they observed. If it was a friend, they would greet him, if it was a foe, things would get much worse.

The moon showed them all who the intruder was, it was their brother. The first of the night watch, a young wolf they called HeavyStep howled into the night, announcing the newcomer.
“Brother Wolf has returned, SharpEyes is here”

Others came about, WhiteTail and LongSnout had already surrounded their unintended target, just in case it was the bearer of bad news for the pack.

SharpEyes looked about himself and called loudly so everyone could hear.
“I am SharpEyes, I come with news of my mission, I must speak to the elders”

By then the whole pack was bursting with activity. The young ones were awake and pouncing away in their endless play, the mothers watched them with care, but always from a distance, let them know that they were free to try what they wanted.

OldGray and OldWhite came to meet SharpEyes, all the others moved away to let them pass; after all, no one stands in the path of the elders.
A single sniff was all OldWhite needed to know that SharpEyes had not bitten living thing for days, he must have traveled at top speed back to this place, not worrying for food or drink.

“BullHead” He called, “bring pray for SharpEyes, his journey was long and exhausting, we will go by the creek so he can drink as well”

SharpEyes did not say anything yet, he simply followed the two old wolfs to the small pond that the creek formed in this part of the woods, once he had enough to drink for a start he spoke.

“It took me far more than I had believed, the TwoLegs travel fast when they want, and following without being smelled or seen was difficult”

“What have you seen then?” inquired OldGray

“They are more dangerous than I had expected” replied SharpEyes grimly.

A snarl from the trees announced the arrival of LongFang, the third elder and the former leader of the pack, a proud giant of a wolf, grayed fur with a thin white line on the head, his days of glory had long since past, but the pride of who he had been was always present.
With a look at the others he strode into the meeting and said:

“I don’t know why we are bothering so much with the TwoLegs, this winter alone will kill them all, they have no fur to keep them warm, and their hide is thin, I’ve broken it myself.
They have no fang, no claw, no speed, their younglings are so clumsy it’s a wonder they survive, they are weak and few in number, and they are moving away, towards the yellow star, why should we be sending numbers to watch them? Why send our best scout when we have so much to do just to survive? The Great bears are pushing more every year and the pray gets faster, we need every wolf we can count on”

OldGray sighed heavily. “You know my stance on this matter LongFang, but please, let SharpEyes tell us what he’s seen”

With a look, he indicated for SharpEyes to continue.
“It is true that they have no teeth, or claws, but they use the tree and the stone and can cut through hide as thick as the Mammoth. They have no fur, but they have harvested the thunder and keep it in their nests and there is no darkness where they go, nor cold.
Their numbers have increased since we last saw them and in that they make up for their lack of speed, I saw them in the hunt, they are deliberate, precise and deadly. I very much fear that if they decided we were to become pray, there would be not much we could do about it but to hide with the wind on our favor”

LongFang Snarled again. “That is the talk of the hare, we are not hare, we are Wolf, we do not become pray to the Great Bear, why should we become pray to the TwoLeg?”

Several of the pack nodded and howled their agreement, by now the assembly around the elders and SharpEyes included the strong of their number, all but the watch and the pups and the mothers were listening to the conversation.

OldGray barked and silence was restored, then he spoke. “SharpEyes, why do you think they would call us pray and hunt us? We stray away from their path, like we do with the Cougar and the Bear”

BullHead came about with a mouse, it was crony because of the winter, but it had enough meat on the bones to satisfy a quick hunger, he threw it at SharpEyes feet and retreated to a place where he could listen.
SharpEyes sniffed the game, turned it about with his snout and then ate it slowly. OldWhite noticed something about the way in which he did so and then he knew.
“You have more to tell us about the TwoLeg” OldWhite said.

SharpEyes looked about, all eyes on him; the smell was that of anticipation. He sighed and continued. “I do, wise elder, but what I’ll say next is difficult to explain. As OldGray say, I do not believe that they will call us pray, there’s plenty of weaker and slower meat about these parts, what I meant to say was that they have the power of a thousand strong, even though they are but a few dozens.
You see, their power comes not only in their number, but in their uncanny ability to work together, they hunt as one, they live as one. It is true that their young ones are tiny and unable to care for themselves for many a moon, but they care for their pups for long, even after they are ready to hunt about. They stay together and bond with each other beyond their place in the command. The TwoLegs are creatures of bonding, by themselves they are weak, together they are stronger than the sum of their efforts”

OldWhite considered these words, as he meditated on what he had seen and heard and smelled, LongFang barked loudly. “If they are as strong as you say, then more the reason to stray from their path, let us go towards the bright star, into the white lands, where they do not like to hunt, we’ll have a tough time getting food but we will not run against them anymore”

OldWhite cried quietly, a single cry, as comprehension dawned on him. “Tell me, SharpEyes, did you go near them?”

The stillness in the air could be touched, all eyes turned to the young scout as if a pronouncement of banish had been made.
“I did” said SharpEyes and the barks and snarls showed him the pack’s disapproval of such bold move. LongFang stepped on the cold grass under his feet as if ready to attack. Of all in the pack, he was the one with more reason to hate the TwoLeg.

OldGray barked aloud and restored silence once more. “Tell us how it happened”

“I followed their pack for many nights, always at a distance, their scent is strong and easy to find, and they put the captured thunder at the center of their circle so they are easy to see from a day’s walk. In my travel I met with others, and I talked to them, I asked about what they had seen and heard. I spoke to Bobcat, I spoke to Snake, I spoke to Owl. They are all scared of TwoLeg and their stone and their tree and their thunder, many told me they wear their pray on their shoulders, maybe to tell all others that they can kill Mammoth, or maybe to stay warm. Many explained to me how they feed the young and the sick first, and the strong hunters sometimes pass hunger when there is not enough. I saw them burn the meat of their pray to make it easy to eat. I saw them eat the plant and the soil as well, I saw them laugh together play together, even the old ones.

At first none of this made sense to me, but then I started to understand, they have something no other pack that walks these lands has. I cannot say what that is, but they are different.

One night, fourteen moons ago it got cold. It got colder than it ever had before, I had been living on hare and mouse and bird, and not much of it, I was hungry and tired and fell asleep, much to my surprise when I woke up they were there, three of the TwoLegs had come looking for me. Maybe they knew I was following, maybe they just saw me that night, but they carried me to their thunder and warmed me up, then they gave me water and they gave me their hunt, as if they did not need it at all”

The howls of outrage and surprise pierced the night as tooth and nail. LongFang jumped in front of SharpEyes and showed his bite. “You have betrayed this pack, you have allied yourself with them and now you come to tell us what they want you to say. I have fought these TwoLeg long before you came; we had to stand our ground when they started hunting in our territory. I lost some of my best to this war, and now you come and you tell us that they fed you!”

OldWhite howled so loud it could be heard for miles; even LongFang was taken aback at the eldest doing this. Then the old wolf came and pushed LongFang away from SharpEyes. “You say you stood your ground, but let us remember what happened then, for I was already an elder in those days. LongFang, we fought the TwoLeg and we lost our hunters, we had to crawl away in the end and hope for a better season in the white lands, we could not defeat the TwoLeg then and we cannot defeat them tomorrow, no matter where we go.”

LongFang looked about, rage fading from him at the remembrance of the bad times of past. “What do you say then, eldest, are we to give up? To become their pray?”

“I think there is another way” said OldGray. “You see, I also have spoken to others, I have spoken to Cougar and to Bobcat and to Great Bear… yes, we can talk to Great Bear when we have to, it is not all hostilities, for his survival is at risk just as ours.
Most agree that staying away from TwoLegs is the best way to go, and to hope that one day they won’t decide that Bear meat or Cougar meat tastes good when burnt. I say they may be another way around this problem”

All Wolves listened intently; the only one not looking at the gray furred elder was OldWhite. As he looked to the great moon he knew the paths that lay in front of them, and he liked neither of them.

OldGray continued. “SharpEyes, you were sent on a mission, that which you have fulfilled beyond my expectations. You were sent to follow the TwoLeg and to watch them, to asses how much of a risk they presented to us, and how to quell that risk if it were possible. In every sense you have shown me that my thoughts on this matter are correct.

If we are to survive the coming of the TwoLeg we cannot fight them, for we already know we will loose against their tree and stone. We cannot run, for they are as good a hunter here as they are in the white lands and nothing will stop them should they decide to go and find us starved and cold. But we can ally ourselves with them. By caring for SharpEyes when he was too tired to go on, they showed us the key to our survival. If we hunt with the TwoLeg, we will ensure our passing of the winters.”

Nobody spoke. Nobody knew what to say, such a proposal was beyond the wildest dream of the Wolf.

“We have always traveled alone” said LongFang. “We have survived hunting by ourselves, why should we ally ourselves with TwoLeg? Why should we give up what we are to become their slaves?”

“Because they would care for us as they do for their young” said OldGray. “They would take the bite from their mouths to give it to us if it meant our lives. We would not be their slaves, we would be their friends”
Howls and snarls and barks came from every corner of the woods. Some screamed their disapproval, some were doubtful of the ideas being spoken in the circle. The moon moved in the sky before calm and silence came back to the assembly.

“I will not do this” said LongFang. “I’d rather spend my winters in hunger in the white lands before I give myself to the TwoLeg”

“I expected you to say this” said OldGray. “I am the youngest of the Elder, too young some say, but I am an elder still. As I said, I have spoken to others, and among them, few feel the same way, Bobcat believes the same things I believe, and some of their house are thinking of some day approaching the TwoLegs, they are much more proud than we are, and they have considered this matter seriously. I propose that those who want an alliance defect fron this pack and come with me, as I defect myself”

“You will turn away from your brothers to go with the TwoLeg, this is not a plan for survival, this is treason and trickery, and you are banished, you and any on this pack who think the TwoLeg will offer us a better life. OldWhite, you say nothing to this!?”

OldWhite kept looking at the moon. “I’m far too old to understand what any of this means, I will not survive another winter in the white lands, and my spirit would be broken if I let a TwoLeg feed me, I fear I have no place in this pack or in this woods anymore” And with that he strode into the night, the last walk of the old wolf when he goes to die in a solitary clearing.

That night many things changed. After much deliberation and much showing of teeth and claws, two packs were created. DeepHowl, the leader of the original, with LongFang as his elder started the long journey to the white lands, and SharpEyes, leader of the new, with OldGray as his elder took south to search for the TwoLeg, with only two more. From the distance, OldWhite looked upon his kind, knowing that as he withered away, so would the old ways of the wolf. This was a new world, a world of savage wolves and TwoLeg wolves, a world that spared no moment for an elder too old to hunt for himself.

A long time ago, when the world was young and rainbows only had four colors, and storytellers everywhere still had hair… there was a kingdom. And like any kingdom of respectable disposition, this kingdom had a King. And like any king of grandiose aspirations, he had a son, the prince. And like any prince of organized composure, he had a general. And like any general of fantastic capabilities, he had an army.

But this was no ordinary army, or general, or prince, or king, or kingdom , this was the kingdom of the light, and it was the last barrier between our world and the absolute chaos of darkness.

And I don’t have to tell you that is is serious business, it requires incredible strength, wisdom and heart to fight against the oncoming doom and to keep it at bay.

You see, the army of the light was composed of the most capable, the bravest, the most impressive warriors the world had ever seen.

And the reason they were so impressive was, well, there were several reasons. First of all, they seemed to be larger than regular people, like a mystical force had made them a few inches taller, and more muscular than regular people.

Second, they always wore gleaming armor that sparkled in gold and silver and made them sort of difficult to focus on. And finally, they had the biggest… swords anyone had ever seen.

Everybody in the kingdom admired them, they all secretly wanted to be a warrior of the light, but everybody was also terrified of the trials.

See the trials were secret, no one really knew what happened when a soldier from the regular army went off to face them.

Sometimes they would come back defeated, and they would never speak of what had happened, but sometimes they simply disappear and never came back, and people had to assume that they had become full fledged warriors of the light and sent away to fend off the darkness.

So nobody knows what happened, but I know. And I am about to reveal, for the first time since the rainbow got its fifth color, what goes on during the trials of the light.

When a soldier aspires to join the army of the light, he must pass three trials.

He’s already a Soldier, so he has already proven himself. But will he have what is required of him?

The Soldier steps into the ring and looks around, he feels ready, he has waited his entire life for this moment.

The General comes into the ring and says “This is the first trial. You must pass or you will never become a Warrior of the Light, a Soldier forever you will remain.”

“There is a stone at the center of the ring. You must lift it”

The Soldier looks to the center of the circle and there is a rock as big as his torso laying there, defying him, taunting him, looking as heavy as the world. The soldier walks up to it and puts his hands underneath.

And he pushes, he pushes with every fiber of his being and it hurts. It hurts beyond measure. And it feels as though the rock will never give in. Ten whole minutes pass and he finally lifts the stone up to his chest. His heart is beating so hard he might just burst out of his body. As he drops the rock to the ground the General speaks again.

“This was the trial of your body. You have the strength that I require”

And the General steps away from the ring.

The Prince now Comes into the circle and speaks for all to hear.

“This is the second trial. You must pass or you will be cast out from this army, and never again fight for the Light”

“There is a stone at the center of the ring. You must lift it. And you must do so in one minute”

The Soldier runs without hesitation and he starts pushing again, this time he’s giving his very soul into it. Every single fiber of his muscles is screaming for release. His body aches beyond measure.

Just when his time is about to run out he lifts the rock, and this time, not to his chest, he elevates the stone beyond his head, towards the heavens, where the Light resides. As he drops the rock to the ground and makes it tremble, the Prince speaks again.

“This was the trial of you mind. You have the will that I require”

And the Prince steps away from the ring.

The King has now come and the trumpets announce his arrival. And at the same time a man, bound by wrists and ankles is thrown into the center of the arena.

“This is the third trial. You must pass or your life will be taken”

“There is a stone at the center of the ring, and there is a man next to it. You must lift the stone, and drop it on the man’s head”

The soldier looks at the man for a moment, he takes in his despair and his fear, and the he says:

“Please forgive me my King, I must ask: what is this man’s crime?”

“It does not matter, you must do as I say”

The soldier looks at the man again and then speaks once more.

“Forgive me once again my fair King. But is this man our enemy? Did he fall under the rules of war? will he have no chance to defend himself?”

“It does not matter. This is what I require of you”

He looks at the man yet again, in his eyes he sees himself. A single tear sheds from the soldier’s eyes as he says

“I’m sorry my King, I cannot kill this man. Not like this. I willingly offer my life as payment for this man’s freedom”

At that moment shadows start to lurk around the circle, and as they get closer the soldier knows that they are coming for him, the true warriors of the light have surrounded them and knows he is about to die for his failures.

Closer and closer they get until they are at an arm’s reach and then… they embrace him.

And as they do, the King Speaks.

“This was the trial of your heart. You have the love that I require. From this day forth, you shall be known as a Warrior of the Light”