Tale Weaver Festival

Lucette · 09-24-2022, 02:31 PM

The feast was over and the time for storytelling was at paw. The location for the storytelling was clear enough, a fire pit lined with stone and wood in preparation for the stories that would be told. The low flames and hot, red coals gave ambiance, and cushions were set around the pit to make the guests comfortable, or even furs if they preferred. Lucette was currently sitting on some of the furs, calmly listening to the first to tell his tale. A tale about a man named Darsein. Someone once a threat, and now was gone. She drew in a breath as he finished, speaking up in a surprisingly clear and well-carried voice despite being such a small creature.

“I guess I’m going next. Listen well now, to the tale of a man named Chasm.” Lucette had risen to a sitting position, head turning toward the skies as she mentally prepared herself for a tale her mother had told her as a child.

“In the religion of Foi, it is believed that insanity is a curse of the dark ones, a bane set upon the world and allowed to run rampant by the Divinities themselves. None was so lost, so insane, as the Mad Beast herself, Rainbow Syndrome. A woman said to be so twisted and dark that she would torture others for fun, and when she grew bored of them, she would devour their bodies and very souls, preventing them from joining the Divinities Charis and Erebos in the land of the death. There wasn’t a creature alive that followed Foi that did not fear Rainbow Syndrome’s coming…

But it is said even the darkest of creatures will care for their own. None now how, or if the father of the child was but one of Rainbow’s victims, but she had children. Two daughters and a son. The son, her middle child, was most like Rainbow, the only one that she kept close, having abandoned the other two for other creatures to find. It is unknown why Rainbow didn’t merely kill them but it is believed that somewhere within her twisted heart she found herself unable to take the lives of her own kin.

Now, the son… She named him Chasm, after a deep fissure in the earth. He appeared endless and hollow, following his mother’s orders blindly, raised to believe that her way was right, that she was merely a survivor, never realizing what sort of twisted creature she really was. Chasm loved his mother, as most children would, and saw a strong beast where others saw something to fear. But their time together would not last forever. Rainbow Syndrome and Chasm, despite their ability to feed on their own kind, were mortals. Hunters began to come in groups, all seeking to kill Rainbow Syndrome, and many, many good men were lost in that attempt.

One day while Chasm was out collecting herbs his mother requested a new group came, led by a man with flaming red fur. They waged battle while Chasm was gone and by the time he returned it was too late.

His mother, the fearsome Rainbow Syndrome, was dead.

Chasm grieved. He cried and he cursed, he shouted promises of revenge to the heavens! Never before had Chasm experienced feelings of loss, but they washed over him like a raging storm, consuming his thoughts and filling him with a pain he’d never known.

But Chasm was not alone. A young maiden, about Chasm’s age, had followed after the hunters, though she had no affiliations with them. She revealed herself to him, stepping from the shadows and speaking in the softest voice with a small, sad smile upon her maw.

“Revenge will not bring her back, you know, nor will it bring you any sort of happiness.” She told him.

Chasm gave pause, turning to look at this maiden. Every other creature he’d ever met had been terrified of his mother and himself, so why, he wondered, did this one not tremble with fear? Why was she not afraid, not begging for mercy to not be slain, and instead speaking to him as if he was some sort of friend?

“I didn’t ask for your advice, wench.” Chasm’s words were unkind, fueled by his heart and hatred for those who had taken away the only one he had ever cared for. But the maiden did not flinch, nor did she retaliate with anger of her own. She did not want to cause Chasm more pain. Despite not knowing him, she knew he was already grieving and hurting. No creature should ever cause more of that to another, something you would all do well to remember.” Lucette smiled a little at this before she continued.

”The maiden remained close, speaking to Chasm, trying to offer him comfort, though the man fought it every turn. Her words were retaliated against with harsh ones, cruel things spoken to her, yet the maiden never gave up on him. She followed after Chasm, even when he tried to leave, not wanting him to suffer alone. Her heart and intentions were pure, wanting to see him smile, wanting to save him from the dark path he wanted to set on… and himself. It was so easy for others to see a monster, to see a creature that could not be saved, but this maiden saw past this. She saw Chasm for what he was; a man. No creature starts out a beast of darkness… and she saw a light in Chasm, a faint flicker, but there was hope for him. She did not want to walk away while there was that hope. She wanted to help him, even if others wouldn’t.

Over time Chasm grew used to the maiden’s presence. He didn’t know why she was so insistent, following him around even when he threatened her and said such mean things, but she did. He hadn’t realized it, but her presence had started to bring him comfort. Though he had lost his mother he was not alone and, for that, he was grateful to her, not that he was willing to admit it out loud just yet. His mannerisms towards her started to shift, however. He stopped speaking so cruelly, starting to mimic the way she was speaking to him, and, in time, after moons of wandering, he realized he viewed her with care. Not the same way as his mother of course, but he felt fondly for the woman. Protective. He didn’t want anyone to ever hurt her.

At long last, he finally asked the maiden her name. Her smile brightened as she gave it to him; Fatima. She seemed so happy, relieved that Chasm was no longer raving about revenge. He had already started to change, his heart shifting the way it was meant to.

The two of them fell in love. It hadn’t been planned, but after many moons of wandering together, and growing close, it had happened naturally. What had once been the plan of a woman doing the right thing, and helping someone out, seemed to be becoming a happy ending for the both of them. During the light of the full moon, out on the open moors in Lynne, Chasm confessed his feelings for Fatima, and the two became an official mated pair.

As the season progressed Chasm met other loners, like-minded individuals, and began to work on a pack, a kingdom for himself, Fatima, and the little ones she had growing inside her. He was a smooth talker, gaining a reasonable amount of followers and raising a pack in the moors just before Fatima gave birth to two pups.

The firstborn, a male, was small yet handsome, taking on more of his mother’s colorations and appearance. The secondborn, far bigger than her brother, was a girl. A girl who resembled Chasm’s mother. This realization had caused something to stir within the king, memories of his mother lost, and the ones who had taken her. He had promised his mother vengeance… but he had fallen in love with Fatima, falling from that path. Shame washed over the man as a fierce desire to lead his pack against those who had taken his mother began to stir.

Why now, he wondered, when he was so happy? He had a pack, his mate had just had two beautiful children… was it worth throwing everything away?

But alas, happiness would not last.

Fatima fell ill.

No healer could deduce what was wrong with her, though Chasm even sent for those outside his pack. Fatima grew weaker and weaker, though, the whole time, she wore a smile, telling her mate not to worry, that this was meant to be.

Fear, hurt, and worry consumed the King. Chasm could not bear the thought of losing his mate, especially when they had little ones. They hadn’t even opened their eyes yet! But within a week Fatima had gone, passing away in the night with Chasm curled around her, holding her close.

Something broke in the King then.

He had a wet nurse take his little ones, burying Fatima in the shade of a tree on the moor. All the happiness, all the hope he’d had, was gone, just like that. Stolen away from him. He retreated into himself, no longer the confident alpha he had once been. He became cold, delegating tasks to his leadership rather than taking them on himself. His children began to grow… and Chasm’s heart grew colder to the world, hate, and resentment, welling up inside the man like the sea coming in for high tide.

He had lost those who had made him happy not once, but twice, and the second time it had devastated him. He had truly become hollow, no longer caring for the feelings of others, speaking almost as if he was void of any emotion. He didn’t even spend time much time with his children… and preferred to avoid his small son altogether. He reminded Chasm too much of his beloved Fatima. He could not bear to look upon them.

He felt like he had lost everything… and failed to see the beautiful children his wife had left him with. She had known her time was short, but rather than become consumed with negative thoughts, she had wanted to spend as much time with Chasm as possible, and live out her last days in happiness. She had hoped that when she was gone their children would continue to give the man hope so that their kingdom could thrive. But it started to fall apart… everything fell apart, and twisted wolves, those who only sought power, began to come up with a plan to rid themselves of Chasm and control his children so that they could control everything.

Feeling he had nothing left, Chasm took only his most loyal followers and left the kingdom in search of those who had slain his mother. It is said that the kingdom fell to ruin in his absence, the daughter succumbing to the same madness as her grandmother and his son escaping with the help of a faithful knight. None know what became of Chasm, nor if his endeavors were successful. The end of his tale is lost to the world, as lost as his own heart had become…” Lucette breathed in, glancing around at the wolves who were still present.

“It is important to hold those close to you dear, but remember that death comes for all things. If you allow yourself to be consumed by grief and hate, you will lose sight of any joys you may have left. You must learn to smile, even when there are hard things in store, so you will never become lost and broken.” She settled back down, waiting for the next story to be told.

"Talk, 'Think.'

[/color]

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me

Tale Weaver Festival

-Story thread

Lucette