Thursday Morning September 20th, 546 ALW. Fennur's Heart, North-Eastern Glacial Regions. ….
The child of gold.
The guardian of shadow and stone.
The blue eyed nomads.
The red eyed killers and their exploration efforts.
All ebbing and flowing— waxing and waning.
All while the spirits continued to speak in memory, vision and impressed trauma.
All while Konan slept.
A black sleep. No dreams, no echoes of words or experiences. Just the dark. In some ways that was bliss. A break. Much needed. Ended much too quickly.
Voices penetrated his heavy slumber. Sounding first like they were under water and quickly growing in clarity and individuality.
"How long do we decide to let him sleep in our home? Around our children and healers? And we can't even be sure of what he is!"
"YOU can't be sure, old friend. Everyone else here is. Remember, Bernal, it's you we call The Hollow-Moon. You're without faith. Not us."
"Faith is why we're here, Haurik— on the outskirts of a world being destroyed day by day! Yes, I've lost faith….. because I have a better hold on my axe. What hold do you have on your foolish idealism about this….. man-boy? Why do we immediately assume he's this Lycan reborn and not another one of the Vampires experiments? Need I remind you all of the first time we faced the Berserkers? My time hunting Vampire rogues?"
A silence fell as more of Konan's senses awakened.
"Your cynicism is a cancer, Berkaal." Mother said from somewhere else.
"You're hunger for spirits that don't want you is pathetic. Maybe I made the wrong choice joining this pack."
Heavy footsteps rumbled off into the distance like storm clouds on the wind.
And Konan was left in the silence. Inhabited by others.
By new feelings and smells.
Something warm. Like spices under sunrise and warm bodies happily toiling away at the herbs.
He felt the bliss of the old dream coming to him when a hand suddenly brushed his face.
Konan snarled at the complex feeling. His reflexes took over and left him sitting up, holding the arm of the hand that touched him in a death grip.
She winced. Her light brown skin tensed up in her grimace.
Konan made a similar noise in response to her sound after seeing her cool blue eyes. Blue only in passing. Not red.
Not the enemy.
He was even more struck when he noticed her red hair, flowing in a thick braid down her back.
Like the dream.
Quickly, he let go.
The woman kept her eyes to the ground and didn't move— even as blood spilled from the new wounds and bruises on her wrist.
It was the sound of others gasps, snarls and anxious barks that had Konan on his feet and on his guard.
They were everywhere.
Blue eyed people.
Over ten strong and joined by long legged dogs that barked and anxiously growled at him while others whined.
"Nuwetara! Come!" Konan braced himself in his confusion and fear.
Out of the crowd, Nuwetara came trotting over and brushed against him with a purring welcome— completely failing to match his own alarmed aesthetic.
Behind her, Mother rose like a titan.
She was seven feet tall, towering over the others. In the shadows she had glowing blue eyes. As she stepped into the light, it was revealed that she wore a blind fold. Her heavy hide cloak shuffled in the cave as she hobbled over with the click and thud of her cane.
"Sulekha, rise." Mother said quickly.
The red haired girl looked back at her.
"He is not a danger to you. You have many words." Mother said as she continued her approach until she stood behind her.
Sulekha hesitantly stood up— keeping her eyes on the ground.
Mother looked back to Konan, "You were in terrible shape when we first met, golden-child. You're better now— do you remember me or are you still with the spirits?"
Konan's breaths still ran ragged. His claws still stretched and pressed against the cuticles at the ends of his fingers. He wanted to run— to avoid any and everything that got such a rise out of him. War, chaos, noise, smell, discovery.
But then there was the other thing.
The bliss of the dream.
Her red hair.
The word.
"Do you remember what you said?" Mother asked.
Konan felt it, "Heknaari."
An explosive gust of wind swept through the cave, carrying glowing snowflakes across the shadows and dust of the stone world. Sunlight traveled unnaturally, in wisping spirals and curls that melted the flakes and left only steaming auroral essence that danced on the people's skin and caressed the wild-dogs furs in a tidal wave of warmth and energetic primordial beauty.
The glow stayed with them in echoes. In an aura of nature and its worldly essence.
The dogs bowed their heads and stopped barking. Some of the people bowed. Others too stunned to break past their realization and fear.
Mother took a knee in the midst of it all before rising again.
"Kin….." Konan said the meaning of the word in the language the others spoke.
Mother nodded, "You have marked us, and in doing so, you have proven your heritage."
"No way... he just used Beast-Energy to manipulate snow and sunlight."
"At the same time."
"It's like Mother said. This one is a Lycan. Somehow, the last one."
Konan took a moment to look back the way the winds and lights swept in front. He could smell the outside air in the distance—
"You may leave. But you may never return to anything but ash and dust. You have more enemies than you can imagine. This may be your last day of peace. Enjoy it. Share in our kill." Mother motioned to the moose cut up and cooking over a fire. "At least let us show thanks for the warmth and strength you've given us with your ancient word."
Konan and Nuwetara's stomach grumbled at the same time.
One of the men laughed. The one with the kind voice that was arguing earlier. Konan remembered his name instead of his face.
Haurik.
Haurik laughed like he was only among family. Relaxed and at ease. "Mother, I think we've got an answer. Everyone come sit. It's time to eat."
Mother smiled and walked off with Sulekha.
Konan watched them all go.
The dogs approached him, sniffing and wagging tails.
The word echoed in Konan's mind again.
"Kin…."