Private

After speaking to his children individually, going over the basics of the story of their holy ones, the voice of the can tah had begun speaking. Larkspur had done as he had always been told to and listened. He had asked Eris for some of her magic herbs, and explained he had to speak to the ini. She had given him a small supply and he had taken the horse west. Even in the snow, he found his way to that pool he now considered sacred. While his horse grazed and lingered in the area that had once been their own, he had retreated into the darkness that was familiar. Eris’ magic took him further, deep into the deep pink path of the ini, to the eye of Tak and the source of the voices he knew to be holy.

He breathed in cold air and listened. After hours in silence, his orange eyes opened wide and he was pulled back out of that terrible place. His pupils were so dilated that the world remained bright despite the evening shade, and the journey back to Anathema was made without much trouble. Once there he had gathered the children from their various places around the pack caves and brought them into their family one. A fire was lit, and he began to speak in his deep, heavily accented voice. “I spoke t’our Gods today. Y’know that the three of you were made in their image, but t’night I’ll tell you the story of how the Khalif—where I’m from—came to be.” The children looked thrilled by this prospect and had become still and silent. It unnerved him sometimes how still they could become, considering they were twitchy, fidgety puppies. Eris, in the firelight, was a dark shade with glowing eyes. None of the children had her eyes.

“A long time ago, three Gods came down tah th’ mountain of th’ Khalif. Th’ first came in th’ day, a wolf of pure white with eyes th’ color of the sun. The people who saw her called her Ankh. That family was named Brandt, n’they were her favored—they always had white pelts. She was th’ Goddess of Light, an’ would bless the worthy with her color.” He paused, looking at his pale daughter pointedly. She had been chosen to save him. He would never forget such a thing.

“Then, at th’ time ‘tween day n’night, Ankh’s sister, Rah’khir came. She was silver n’brown, color of th’ earth. But then there was silence, for th’ moon rose high. The full moon was red and orange, and from it, He came.” His voice dropped low, knowing the power of the dark one. He too knew the colors that marked his chosen—black and red and orange. He saw them on himself and in his children.

“Tak, the dark god, was as black as night. His eyes were th’ color of th’ moon, but th’ moon changes, my children. Some nights it is silver, and others it is dark and red. His eyes never look th’ same way twice, but they are always terrible. He rules over all the wicked, all the dark ones. Even Ankh and Rah’khir could not stand before him during the night. But th’ sun began t’rise, and as it did, Rah’khir turned against th’ dark one. She chased him even as his body ate th’ earth b’neath him. He ate time an’ th’ stars, but then th’sun rose. Ankh chased him and destroyed him.” He paused for a breath, watching the faces of his children. He enjoyed being able to read them so easily, but also saw the story had not been lost on them.

“Each day, th’ gods repeat this battle. Dawn an’ twilight are the time of Rah’khir, day th’ time of Ankh, and night th’ time of Tak. Each god has power, but Tak’s is the one y’must fear. He is a terrible god,” Larkspur warned, his voice turning harsh. “T’know him is t’know evil. I was born inta his service, an’ I have seen his eye—I have seen the ini, where he lives. It is the place of nightmares, an’ of terrible things. Y’are not to seek it without me t’guide you, or Tak will destroy ya.” A warning, one the dark wolf did not take lightly. Finished with his story, the orange-eyed wolf sat back and turned his face to Eris. She too had expressed a desire to tell them of her faith, and he would certainly not object to that.

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While his son’s obvious disturbance was seen, Larkspur’s attention was pulled to his pale daughter. Not far behind her the timber-shaded girl frowned, as if she too found the story upsetting. Their mother answered her, to which the dark wolf nodded. Names carried power—no child should bear the weight of such a thing. Larkspur, especially, could not give them such a thing. He was not a holy man like his aunt-mother.

The green eyed she-wolf went on, explaining what powers she knew, what powers they might have. One of Larkspur’s ears twitched as the voice of the can tah whispered. He knew that one day they might be chosen for such an object, but the little gods, much like the big ones, did not come without a price. A noise from outside was followed by the arrival of their leader. Despite her bad blood, he begrudgingly followed her because this was the only place for his family to live. And unlike Conor, her co-leader had proven to be decisive and strong. That at least gave him some hope.

A white paw gestured to a clear area, inviting her to sit. Salvia’s orange eyes followed the newcomer sharply, without a trace of fear. She was a bold girl, one without the childish fears he had expected to see in the trio. “Th’ names of gods ain’t meant t’be taken lightly,” he warned. “When y’speak ‘em y’give ‘em power.” He had heard stories of Tak assuming mortal form and slaughtering kin with the wolf he controlled. It was a frightening idea to him. “If, like yer momma said, you have gifts we’ll find that out when yer older. I can’t see like she does, but I was touched by a god—and I was sent here t’bring them back.” He looked pointedly at Naniko. She was not educated in her families faith, but he had full intentions of making them understand everything.