Servant of the Moon #1 - unedited draft

Kaiyou knelt before the burning incense on a tatami, a simple but tightly knotted prayer mat like those that had been used by generations of their fathers. He ran a baton around the edge of an antique bronze singing bowl. The deep resonating tone, soothed and stilled his wolf as he focused on the meditations of the Moon. Beyond the open windows, the birds and rain sang of life and hope, things he needed to believe existed if he was going to find the strength to survive what was coming. The Delphi had seen war against the Goddess.

Generations ago his ancestors had been put to death after being accused of following the beliefs of the western kingdoms, but the truth was a far greater secret than the that. Declared martyrs by those who believed they were killed for a religion of the humans, only a dozen surviving knew the truth. Out of fear of the Shogun, the Prefect Date had ordered all those with western religious beliefs killed and those who had been exposed to western culture purged. Alpha Hasekura Tsunenaga and his son, Rokuemon Tsuneyori, had managed to hide the secret of the Ōkami no oya ( the wolf’s kin) beneath the veils of Christianity and Zen while their pack fled to the new world.

As they settled in the hills and forest beyond what would be Acapulco, the alpha family had been put to death by beheading in the name of a faith they did not follow but proclaimed to hide the truth of the existence of werewolves. The Moon Goddess’ children had left the land of the Shogunates and Emperor. However the new land was also fraught with danger, in the form of Sun-worshiping witches who believed in human and non-human sacrifices, blood burning worship, and exocannibalism. More than half those who escaped Japan were killed the first decade, before the youngest Alpha brother Rokuemon Tsunekura had successfully lead the war to destroy the cult.

The sun-worshippers had fled, but not before vowing to destroy all wolfkind and return their Sun god of war and blood sacrifice to power. Over the centuries his pack had dwindled until now only a half dozen lived who followed the ways of the shogunate wolves, to face the rise of the sun-worshipers in this second religious conflict. The war was coming and it was his duty to see the protectors and warriors that were the Servants of the Moon were ready. He needed help and he was a wise enough wolf to realize, the sun-worshipers did not need to build an army, the arrogance of the royals had built one for them. They only needed to find a way to rule it. He ran the baton around the lip of the bowl again, and listened to the tone that would carry his prayers to the Moon and to his mate. Again someday, his honor would be tested and the heart-blood of his pack be poured Banefire, but not before he made sure the Servants were as ready as he could make them.

Ketsu watched his brother praying as he did every day or night when the moon was directly overhead. They were the last of their family and the last of their pack on this continent, and almost in the world. Everything he had learned had come from his brother but he did not have the faith his brother had. Working as a Wanderer and Protector had afforded him a life of adventures where the rewards for do-gooding had usually come with a warm meal and a warmer bed from a grateful shewolf or two. It kept things interesting. But in the last months, he had been forced to face an uncomfortable truth. Service to their Goddess wasn’t the thing of moral code or storybook fairy tales, but work for a real deity, whose oracles truly saw her and were guided by her. He had always just gone through the motions of their faith, but now he had to asked where those motions had lead him.

From the moment he had followed the Delphi, his brother, and her sister into the moonlit, effervescent water in the pool of an abandoned manor, only to burst the surface half the continent away, his belief in his reality had been shaken. Gone was the mythic being who whispered to dreaming seers, she was replaced by a benevolent and concerned Goddess who opened the Gates of the Tides, sending her Servants to rescue a farmer’s handful of vampire and hybrid children for her sister Goddess from a demon wolf, his rogues, and his witches. His brother believed their family’s ancient enemy had returned and that terrified Ketsu. The horror stories told to make young shogunate wolves train harder were the stuff of nightmares. His lover’s nightmares.

Ketsu found that since rescuing the vampires he could not be with her as casually and carelessly as he had before. Every time Esther slept the dreams came. An evil that he could not protect her from, and a destiny that he could not protect himself from. The bowl hummed its tone again drawing him back from his tumultuous thoughts. Ketsu decided it was time he walked his brother’s path beside him, and not just following enough behind to be a good warrior. Times were changing, ‘things were just getting interesting’ as Esther often said. He would rise to meet the challenge, he would face their Goddess with no dishonor on his soul. Silently, Ketsu walked forward and knelt by Kaiyou. It was time he became a true shogunate wolf.

Delilah read and reread the letter, her old mentor needed help. Seeing nothing that made sense in her bowls and pools, she sought out Margo. The old witch and healer of the Earth Goddess carefully studied the letter and the drawing Del had made, a she-wolf with her palms cupped in front of a pregnant belly in one hand a child, in the other a half a tree leaf colored silver. It was a strange image.

“Das ist an interesting case. What do you make ov it, Delphi? Ist dis vhat have you seen?” Margo asked holding the drawing up. “Das shewolf ist being poisoned, yah?”

“That’s just it. What I see doesn’t make sense, Margo. And no one with her would poison her.” Del flopped in a chair frustrated. She chanted the start, ”‘A half leaf of silver floats in a sea, in her stomach it rest, where her child does sleep.’ I don’t know what that means except that, perhaps, somehow, she has eaten silverleaf, or some other food or drink contaminated with silver that is affecting her pregnancy. I know Mamó would never let her granddaughters consume anything tainted with silver. But the shewolf is sick, and sometimes she smells of silver with no cause. It doesn’t make sense.”

Margo scowls and goes to her shelves, “Like I zaid, interesting caze. I can send her ein remedy for zilver poizon dat ist zafe for a pregnant shewolf, but it taste vile until the zilver toxin ist expelled. Perhaps you should zend Esther to find de zource, she ist very astute. There must be zomething the Old One ist missing.”

Del nodded, “I was already thinking that. Thank you for the remedy, Margo.”

“Delphi, if das poizen ist already in her, it may be too late,” the old healer’s eyes hold the fear Delilah refuses to let herself admit. If Moire is already too poisoned, then they will lose the queen-to-be and her pup. Del vowed she won’t let it happen, Essie needs to find the source, no matter how ‘interesting’ it is.

“I can only pray that it is not, Margo.” Del sighs heavily before she repeated quietly, “I can only pray that it is not.” Out the window, the birds are flitting in the trees as an afternoon shower soaks the island and surrounding crater. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to be as carefree, happy, and without responsibility as they seem. It was such a foreign idea to her mind that the only response she could give her curiosity was that it would be interesting.

Moire shifted miserably in her rocking chair, pushing on her side, she decided she hated being pregnant more than anything in the world and she had only been pregnant for 4 months. She prayed to the Goddess that Shamus would bring Nyall home soon. She was running out of things with his scent on them. She needed him to hold her, so she could sleep, so she could eat, so she could quit having nightmares about silver claws trying to cut her baby from the inside of her body. She was just beginning to hear his little heartbeat, and the sound reassured her he was strong. Ainsley brought her a cup of Mamó’s herbal tea and handful of flowers, before returning to sitting near her, and drawing in a spiral book.

“What aire ye doodling, Ainsley?”

Her youngest sister held up the pad, there was the thin crescent of the barely open eye of the moon, with silvery tears dripping down into the pre-dawn sea. She found it interesting as she ran her fingers over the careful lines almost reverently. It’s was such a tragically beautiful and sad image that made her heart hurt, so lovely and yet melancholy. The Moon’s own tears. Moire nodded, handing the spiral tablet back, and Ainsley returned to her drawing.

The red-headed she-pup had spent many nights awake, staring up through the skylight Comhnyall had put in her attic room. It was the only way to keep her inside in the winter. During the warmer months, she could barely be kept in the house at night. Many times, Moire had watched Ainsley stare up at the moon, her eyes empty as her lips moved in silent conversion with those who dwelt there, those who waited for them. The slashing scar across her throat was not deep enough to have damaged her voice but she had not used it since Moire heard her call her back from the fields of the Moon.

Moire felt a frown crease her brow. Ainsley had a beautiful voice and was always singing or giggling about something before that night., but now, even her merriment was silent. Once and awhile, Comhnyall or Mamó could hear her wolf whisper something but Moire never did. Progress was slow with the youngest survivor of the massacre of their pack, but she smiled and even silently laughed now. Ainsley also engaged in every sort of mischief a lonely child of 6 could find. Her birthday was soon and Moire hoped Nyall would make it home. Moire stretched and shifted again, she did not want to spend another day sitting in a chair. She needed to get up and move around. Looking at the sky, she knew it would rain later this evening but for now they had sunny skies.

“Do ye want ta go ta tha cove an’ look fur tha tide’s treasure, beag sionnach (tiny fox)?”

Ainsley nodded her head excitedly, but she made no attempt to speak. She quickly closed her book and gathered her colored pencils, tucking them away in her satchel. In a moment, she was back from her room. She ran toward the path then turned back with large dark tawny eyes pleading for her sister to hurry. Ainsley loved going to the tiny cove, that really was more a skiff of sand in a notch along the coast than a cove or bay.

Moire was glad it was less than a mile to Amethyst Cove, she was exhausted when they got there. She sank into the thin sliver of sand, while Ainsley ran up and down the tide line. A dark-haired shewolf in a backpack stepped out of the trees, and called hello. Moire stood too fast and the world swirled into blackness.

Later, she startled to wake, it was raining outside. She knew she was laying in her and Comhnyall’s bed, but she had no idea how she had gotten there. The murmur of voices came from below, Mamó was arguing with a younger female. Moire couldn’t make her body move, so she just listened.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Oracle Mealle Tiene, but the Delphi says her sickness is from a silver leaf. She will die if she isn’t cured.” It was the hiker from the cove.

“But ye seen ’er whole body, she ‘as no silver on her and there is none in tha house. How can she be dyin’ of something that is nah near ’er?” Mamó scolded, peevishly.

“I don’t know, Oracle, I am just the messenger. I was sent here to tell you that, deliver the medicine, and to see your grandson’s moon mark for Elder Wanderer Eliazar.”

“Esther, ye need nah call meh Oracle, I be Mamó to ye and yur sister tha same as I be ta Moira, Ainsley and Comhnyall. He be out ta sea with Captain Shamus on tha Seawolf, thay’ll nah be back fur a fair bit. But I can tell ye true, tell ye grandfather, the Moon put Duty on his right shoulder and his Pledge to ’er on his right side, just like ye and yur twin. Just like ’is father, just like all tha Servants,” Mamó‘s old voice was tired and sad. “I do nah think he realizes what he was promisin’ tha Goddess, he only wanted ta protect Moire an’ Ainsley.”

“Ainsley is the little one?” There was a pause, “Del says she is to be an Oracle.”

“Aye an’ she es already shownin’ tha power. Take these drawing book pages ta yur sister an’ tha other oracles, an’ see if thay can figure ‘em out. Tha brown furs aire up ta causin’ ’arm, thay ‘ave one walkin’ with them that is burnin’ like the noon sun,” Mamó was shuffling papers around. “Et tis an ill omen fur us all.”

“I understand, Mamó,” the younger voice agreed. Moire could hear the wolf sifting the papers, she sighs heavily. Copper clinked again china and Moire knew that either Ainsley or the shewolf was clearing the table.

“Thank ye fur bringin’ mo oghaichean(my granddaughter) hume ta meh.”

“Of course, Mamó, I will return if the Moon has my sister send me.” The young woman answered. “She is determined to keep them safe. Determined to find an answer and a cure.”

“How es Delilah copin’ weth tha loss of ’er Luca?” Mamó’s voice sounded so concerned for a wolf Moire didn’t know, as she yawned and fought to stay awake to listen.

“She grieves him, but I am no longer afraid she will lose herself in the Tides. She is driven to overcome the sunwolf, as she calls him. I am worried because she can’t see him, not like I can and I don’t want to.”

“Ye know ye could still be an oracle too, Esther, tha gift did nah fade completely when ye hit yur ’ead. Tis ’ard on Delilah fur it all ta fall on her shoulders. True she be tha one who chosen ta be tha Delphi Oracle, but ye could still be a strong oracle too,” Mamó’s voice held deep affection.

“Ooohhh Mamó, where’s the fun in that?” The young she-wolf laughed and it was a musical sound. “I like to travel and meet in-ter-rest-ing wolves.”

Mamó chuckled, “Nay child, ye like ta be one of tha interestin’ wolves.”

They began talking of more wolves Moire didn’t know and Moire found herself falling back asleep wondering about the mate-lost wolf who they were talking about and about who would be having silver sickness. It would explain why Ainsley and her wolf never spoke, they needed to cure her if she was going to be an oracle. Moire tried to figure it out but she fell into a deep restful sleep and when she woke she had forgotten all about the strange woman and the message from the most powerful Oracle in the world to her grandmother.