How can we hold on to hatred if we are trying to heal the world?
It’s been a long journey. Jonathan recognized the glades of the bawn after he slipped sideways back into the material world. He looks about the old home of his father and him. He smiles softly, remember the times of running through the bawn with old friends. The first time he kissed a kin girl. The first time he...
"Hey, who are you?"
Jonathan looks up to see a tall blonde haired and blue eyed woman staring nose to nose with him. He tilts his head, a warder, no less, though one he did not recognize. She stares him down and asks again.
"Who are you?"
There is a slight feral in her attitude this time, as she is sizing him up for a fight. It isn’t until another voice is heard that she backs down, just slightly.
"Ah, Katy, lay off, its Jonathan, the one we are expecting. Jonathan, my old friend, how are you?"
He wasn’t as tall as the woman, maybe two or three inches shorter than her. He was as young as Jonathan, but had far more scars on him. He was defiantly native american, a member of the local tribes no less. His long dark hair was in a ponytail, and his dark eyes danced with an ancient fire. He moves with a hand extended. Jonathan takes his hand.
"Bites the Claw, one of the warders own eh?" Jonathan chuckles. "I never would have imagined so soon my friend, but I am delighted to see you."
Bites the Claw. Jack "Bites the Claw" Samson was a childhood friend, and a Uktena Ahroun, with one level head. He smiles and looks to Katy.
"This piece of Get Pride is Katy "Rends the Wyrm" Holtzen. She is quite the warrior, and always looking to prove herself, watch yourself Jon, stare at her funny, and she’ll take you home as a trophy."
WACK
Jack merely chuckles as Katy decks him. It looked pretty hard, but Jack had to be a hard man to be doing this job. Warder and his group had to look out for the caern, and in these days, it was the job that almost ensured you might die any day.
"Uh, Hi Katy" Jonathan extends his hand, and she takes it, with a good grip, Jon almost makes a face at how hard she grips.
"Come on Jon, Max is waiting for you, told me I should get out here before you make friends with Katy here."
Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle. Katy gave him a look that made him think twice about chuckling again. Get of Fenris, always some of the most interesting Garou he ever met. Jonathan trip was a long one, but thankfully not full of mishaps. He took Moon Paths from New Jersey to Washington. He did get lost a few times, but the Lunes ere able to guide him back the right way. Though one thought it was hilarious to send him to Boise. Spirits were a strange lot. He makes his way into the living area of the Sept of the Crystal Lake. It was a gathering of cabins, Native lodges, and teepee’s. It was home to Jon once. He was cared for by some kinswoman, as his fathers rage would sometimes get the better of him, but he always was there for Jonathan. It brought back a lot of memories coming here. His first change. He shakes his head. A memory best forgotten.
"I hear the footfalls of the son of Laughing Winds. Am I right?" An old man comes out of a teepee. He looks to be in his late sixties, early seventies. His hair is silver now, and in a ponytail like the young warrior that accompanies Jonathan. His dark eyes are still alive as ever, looking to everything that is around him. He smiles at Jonathan. "Yes, the spirits don’t lie, do they Walks with Spirits?"
Jonathan makes his way over, embracing the venerated Elder of the Duwamish Nation, and the Garou Nation. He was Master of the Rite here at the Sept of the Crystal Waters, and an Elder of the Uktena Tribe. The old man returns the hug, and tilts his head touching Jonathan’s face a moment.
"You’ve found her." It was matter of fact. Not a question, but a statement. He tilts his head, looking at Jonathan. "I can smell her on you. I’d suggest you keep this one. The spirits say you’ve been impatient."
Jonathan can’t help but chuckle. "Indeed. I have left her to come here, and challenge you for my rank."
The old man smiles, a twinkle in his eyes. "I know, and look forward to it. First things first, go see him Jonathan."
Jonathan nods "Got a spare lodge?"
The old man shakes his head "No, but you may stay with me, now, go put down your things and pay homage to him."
Jonathan sets down his things in Max’s teepee, and heads to the Graves of the Hallowed Heroes. It was in a glade, surrounded by tall trees. Memorials of the fallen adorned the place, and some were buried here. Jonathan’s father could not be, but his memorial stood. Jonathan kneeled before it. He bowed his head.
"I’m home dad." He said a silent prayer. For his friends gone, Jason Redtree, for friends here and now. Corrina, Aiyana Redtree, even for Nora. He couldn’t say how long he spent there, but he felt a need for silent meditation. He looked up after what could have been an hour to see the sun setting behind him and something shiny on his father’s memorial. He takes a closer look. He reaches out to take a ring into his hands. It was his mother’s wedding ring. It was a gift from his grandfather, as it was his grandmothers ring before that. It was a white gold ring, embedded with three sapphires. He remembers it well on his mother’s hand.
"He wanted you to have it, when the time was right." Max’s voice can be heard breaking the silence. "I feel the time is right to give it to you. I am sure the woman you left would enjoy it." He leans against his staff, watching Jonathan.
"I hope she will treasure it. I think she will. I take it its time then Max?" Jonathan tilts his head, watching the old shaman.
Max nods "Yes, we are ready to see you. Come on then Jon, its time to see you grow in the nation."
Max and Jonathan made their way to the heart of the Caern. Many Garou were gathered. The Theurges of the area had come to see one challenge for rank. Many Uktena and Children of Gaia could be seen, though Black Furies, Fianna, and Get of Fenris could be seen as well. Max took his place at the center of the eldest Theurges and looked to Jonathan.
"Who comes here to the council of Theurges?" He states in a deep unearthly voice.
"I am Jonathan "Walks with Spirits. I am a Theurge of the Children of Gaia. I am a cliath. I challenge you Max "Wrym Hunter" Redwater, to see me as a Fostern." Jonathan stands proud, long waiting for this moment.
Max nods, his eyes closing, a voice not his taking control. "I see you Jonathan of Unicorns brood. I see the anger deep within your heart, the hatred that could tear you to pieces if you allow it. You must seek out the truth of your anger. You must extinguish the hatred that could burn your soul. Unicorn accepted your hate, and your anger, as she thought you would change, you must change to be Fostern, for anger and hate has no place in your future. Tell me the secret your father held. Find the truth of the night of pain you hold on to. Only then will you be free, and stand as Fostern to the Nation". The trance is over, and the challenge lay forth. Jonathan used every ounce of his willpower to keep his mouth from falling to the floor. They asked the impossible. Doubt filled his mind.
Jonathan had borrowed a pipe and was smoking some of Billy’s tabacco when Max found him.
"I didn’t know you smoked Jon." Max was smiling softly, watching the young theurge.
"It’s a friend of mines. He lent it to me incase I needed it. He’s a Wendigo. I do need it, at least to calm down, I have no clue where to start." He takes another puff.
"Oh, Wendigo tabacco, here, let me try, they always have good tabacco." Max takes out his own pipe, and takes the bag from Jonathan. He lits it up and takes a good breath of it. "Mmm, yup, always the best. The spirits spoke through me today Jonathan, I had no control over that, but the challenge stands true. I can offer but one small piece of advice. Go to the place where atrocity is recorded for all time. I can offer no more help than that."
He doesn’t wait to hear what Jonathan says, merely walks off with his pipe, smoking the good tabacco of the Wendigo Billy. Jonathan frowns deeply, taking another deep hit. The Atrocity Realm. This was not going to be fun.
The journey to the Atrocity Realm is one that Jonathan remembers. He was there a year ago, to find redemption from a crime of passion, now he was going to discover answers. He found it, easy enough, remembering well the way he took last time. His arrival to the realm always prompted him to throw up, he couldn’t help it. It was a land of gray sky, always gray. Mountains of rotting bones and flesh surrounding him. The ground beneath his with a muck of mud and flesh. Scrags guarded closely the breeding pits of bane, and only a foolish pack of garou would attack such places. He looked out head, an entrance to an underground passage. He sighs. He makes his way forward, the smell of stench, death, and decay overpowering. Down the stairs, and into darkness...
It is said that the Atrocity Realm is not a product of Wyld, Weaver, or Wyrm. It’s a manifestation of the horrible things humans’ can do to each other. Every rape, every murder, every horrible deed mankind can do, has an echo here. The darkness brings itself upon a clinic. Several homeless people are waiting for care. A woman stands behind the counter, on the phone. She is pretty, with short dark hair and dark eyes. They mirror Jonathan’s own. Her nametag says Holly. Jonathan’s mother. He gasps, wanting to reach out to her, touch her one last time, warn her. Futile. It was a shade of what was, and he couldn’t stop what he knew was coming. The door bursts open as the fallen ones pour through. Its hard to count how many. Twelve, maybe more. Some in Crinos, some in hispo, others in glabro. They are twisted versions of there former Gaian selves. They are now twisted servants of the Wyrm. They begin to maul and kill all around. Holly screams and frantically tries to hang up the phone and get help. Too late. A nasty looking glabro back hands her, on the floor, and dives down after her. Rage is building in Jonathan. He doesn’t look, he can’t see thank god, but he vomits again. He can hear his mother being raped. Rage building. His hands shake with the rage in his body. Then, a roar, he turns and sees one Gaian burst through the door. His coat is black, and he tells the tell tale sign of a Shadowlord. He claps his hands, thunder, and all in the room are frozen. He leaps on the closest fallen one, tearing him to shreds. Then to another, and by the time he is on the third, rending it dead, the others are upon him, and he is killed. A Shadowlord tried, in vain, to save those there. Jonathan felt a pang of despair, only one, and he could do so little in the long run. Jonathan cries out "MOM!" He is in darkness again. He is vomiting yet again. It was so much, the rage bursting inside of him, aching to be free, to let him take it out on his enemies. He is boiling over, no ahroun, by any means, but still a warrior of Gaia.
He is now outside of the clinic. Above it rather, from another building. He is now not an observer, but a participant. It was the Shadowlord pack. They seem to be milling about.
"What are we doing here Reston? I thought we were going to fuck some shit up tonight?" A young dark haired man states, looking to the group. The pack alpha, Reston, is an older fellow, with very Slavic features, a lot of pure breed in this Shadowlord. He nods "Yea, hold your horses Dominic. Ain’t like we got enough time. I hear tell that some agents of the wyrm gonna come around, maybe sell some dope. Lets just check it…."
A blood-curdling howl is let out. The pack rushes to the sound, looking down on the clinic being overrun by the wyrm.
"What the fuck…."
"Where did they come from…"
"Oh Jesus, we got to help them….."
Jonathan watched as the Shadowlords were taken by surprise. They had no clue what was going to happen that night. They weren’t following the pack. Reston frowned.
"There is too many of them. Johnnie, go rush and find some of the local gnawers, we need more people, just five of us here…."
Johnnie ran off into the umbra, searching out help. Johnnie wouldn’t find them until it was too late. Jon, felt himself speak up.
"I’m going down there." Rage, already he was shifting to the war form. Rage boiling over. Helpless kin could not be sacrificed, even if they were dirty dogs...
"NO Felix! I am your alpha, you’d get us all slaughtered….I won’t…." Too late. Jon was over the side of the building, and bounding towards the clinic.
RAGE.
It was a red blur now. A frenzy of sorts. He leaped upon the first fallen one, ripping him to shreds. Feeling the fury of rage take hold of him.
MOTHER! His mind screamed out. He leapt upon the next one. Tearing him to shreds. On to the third.
MOTHER!
A claw going up. Then pain. Searing pain. Claws and fangs going into him, dog piled by the vile servants of the wyrm. The pain was too much to bear, and soon. Darkness.
Jon wasn’t sure how long he was out. He awoke to the umbral side of the bawn. He was fine physically, but the memories jolted him. Oh Dad. Why didn’t you tell me the truth? The truth. His fathers laughter in his mind. He could hear it all to well now. His Dad never told him the truth, that he did deserve the punishment bestowed upon him for killing the Shadowlord Pack Alpha, for he couldn’t do much unless he wanted to sacrifice his own pack. More to the point, he lost one headstrong ahroun he leapt before he could stop him. Jonathan couldn’t believe he hated for so long, without knowing the truth. He was ashamed of his hate. The hate was starting to slip. Jonathan broke down in tears.
"I wish I could have told you." Max’s voice was soothing, as the old Theurge made his way towards Jonathan.
"I wish my Dad would have." Jonathan wipes the tears away, looking to Max. "Why?"
"Your father was ashamed that he let his anger take him away. He knew that Reston did his best, even for a Shadowlord, he tried, but his pack would have been wiped out, and he couldn’t chance that. Marcus didn’t know how to tell you, and the hate grew in you. He knew you’d have to face it some day, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I don’t know why. Only Gaia does."
"I’m ready to answer your challenge." Jonathan picked himself up, and they went back to the Council of Theurges.
Jonathan was stoic as he related the story of his journey to the Atrocity Realm. He told of the secret his father held, and the hate that is passing in his heart for Grandfather Thunder’s Children. He told of the sacrifice one made and the despair others felt, as they could not join him in the heat of battle. He told of the dishonor he held, for hating the Shadowlords, and the understanding he now had of the situation.
Max nodded and looked to the others.
"I recognize your wisdom Jonathan "Walks with Spirits". I see that you have indeed spoken true of what you have seen, and that you did meet the challenge I set for you. I see you, Jonathan "Walks with Spirits", Theurge of the Children of Gaia, and Fostern to the Nation."
Pride swelled in Jonathan. He had done it. He had met the task just nights ago he thought impossible. Pain, still he carried it in his heart, for the loss of his mother, for the truth hidden by his father. The hate was indeed fading. He had meet it head on, and realized, that though he should mourn their loss, it was no one fault, just another atrocity of this war. This war that seems to go on forever.
Jonathan begins to pack his things. Taking up his bags, he emerges from the teepee. Max and Jack are there to greet him.
"I hope Billy doesn’t mind we smoked all his tabacco." Jonathan chuckles softly, in the past few nights, he had learned much from Max, a welcoming to his rank as fostern. It was long nights, with a lot of smoking for sure.
"Give him this, and my thanks." Max hands Jonathan a bag of tabacco. "It may not be as good as his, but it’s the best we have out here." Jonathan nods, and takes the bags, embracing his old mentor, and friend. "Safe journeys Jonathan, I see much in store for you, take care of that girl out there, she will give you all that you seek. You have much promise. Your father knew that, and don’t hate him for his deception. Just learn from it."
Jonathan nods, and smiles softly. He looks to Jack, who slaps him hard on the back. "Well little cousin, it seems you can now stand eye to eye with even me, for now." He laughs and shakes his head. "I hope to see you make Master of the Rite one day, perhaps I will be a warder that day too." Jonathan smiles and embraces Jack, and begins to walk on.
"I’ve a long journey, but I feel ready for it." He waves and slips sideways, heading on a moon path to home.