Next New Age Abraxas 1:1-5
Before long, there were so many other pups gathering around his mother. He hadn't even truly considered how many of them there were, even though he knew factually how many cousins he had now. Seeing them gathering around was something else entirely, and he wondered how he was supposed to feel. Content? Elated? So far all he felt was anxiety, at the growing number of unfamiliar yet familiar faces. Their bone structure and patterns bore some of the telltale marks that were mirrored amongst his siblings, yet the cousins were also strangers to him. He felt the urge to sidle closer to his mother, but resisted. Show no weakness, stand tall and proud. He was certain once mother began her sermon that he would feel at ease, and it would be no different than any other day. When his aunt arrived, she shot him a subtle smile and settled herself further away from where mother was waiting for the rest of the children. He was very fond of his aunt, she was always nice to him and treated him like he was smart, and grown up. A massive, pallid male entered the clearing soon after his aunt, and it took him a moment to remember his uncle's features. He hadn't spent any time with his uncle Plague, but part of him wondered if he ought to seek him out at some point to know him better. The way he seemed to be familiar with the boy's cousins led him to believe he was spending more time with them, which only stung a little bit. He understood, though. Mother was quite reclusive, in her shrine, and wasn't all too eager to let her children roam freely. Then came Faith, the picture of virtue as she made her way towards the gathering. There was a moment of relief as she approached, where he found himself feeling comforted by her company. One oversized paw outstretched and she tapped the end of his snout gently, before wandering away from him to settle near one of the new princesses. Oh, okay. He folded his forepaws closer to his chest unconsciously, pads upturned towards the soft fur of his chest. When Modesty all but crashed into the meeting, he half expected her to fill the space nearest him. A desire for comfort in the form of familiarity, that was not met. Perhaps he'd been distancing himself from his sisters too much in recent days, and he wondered if he should make more of an effort to spend time with them instead of roaming about. The young wraith wasn't left waiting for long, and soon enough his mother began her sermon. There was still one of his sisters missing, and he was certain he counted at least one of his cousins absent. Weren't there five of them? He was sure there were supposed to be more. Regardless, he saw the twinkle in his mother's eye as she began to preach, and the softness of her expression held his attention as she spoke. It was the same lesson he'd heard so many times, and he wondered if he would ever stop hearing about his divinity. Not that he was opposed to being reminded, but after a while he began to feel discouraged that perhaps there was nothing else he was worthy to know. It was when Obi began to move, and collect the accumulated objects at his mother's feet, that the boy found himself suppressing a shiver of excitement. "One thing that may help you to individualize is to make a sigil. These symbols are to fit within a circle and to represent you. They can be used to strengthen your prayers and to leave you mark physically on the land. You may practice in the dirt." the lilting vocals of his mother explained carefully, and the two toned gaze of the charcoal youngster followed Obi's path across the gathered children. He eagerly accepted the offering of a polished dirt ball and sharpened stick, fitting them into the space between his curled forepaws and chest as he listened eagerly to his mother's newest lesson. "I have my own, and the one I inherited from my father. Likewise, Venom and Plague also crafted their own when they were about your age." once more the boy's attention was drawn to the adults at the meeting, and he wondered if their sigils matched their character in the same way his mother's did. They didn't bear the same gauntlet of curving symbols marked deep in their skin, with the prominent shape of their sigil displayed at their shoulder. Bright gaze narrowed ever so slightly, scrutinizing their forms. Perhaps theirs were simply more hidden? He wasn't offered too much time to consider the implications, as his mother continued. "When you are happy with your design, please carve it into the orbs Obi has given you. Then bring it to us and Obi will darken it with the charcoal he has collected. The same charcoal will be crushed and sprinkled over the back of your pelt, and the sigil will be bound to you." A soft, quizzical sound bubbled up from his throat, barely audible unless you were listening for it. He was absolutely thrilled to be taking another step closer to God, and tying himself to his faith. Perhaps this would help him build the bond with Abraxas that he craved- the deeper connection that his mother had, which he wished to understand in his own way. Slowly, cautiously, he reached one paw out from the boundaries of the fur and began to score the earth with a single claw. The godling took a moment to adjust his grip with his unoccupied forelimb, and ensure his collection of goods from Obi didn't roll away. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel some sort of pull guiding his movements, and simply let his imagination run wild. "Do not fret, just as our pelts grow and change, so can our sigils in due time. We may revisit this topic again when you reach a year of age." the encouragement from his mother was all he needed, and soon enough he was lost in the task of carving in the dirt, wiping the markings away, and starting again. He tried new patterns of curved lines and sharp points, hard edges with curling ends, patterns of different shapes overlapping- all trying to determine what felt right in his soul. "speech" |
