Plot

[Reaper]

Ever After
Yet Again

x. As far as everyone knew, it was normal, it was typical, it was okay. Season after season, year after year, wolf after wolf. They weren't used as a sacrifice, at least, not in the typical sense of the word. They left, all alone, to go on a journy, and when it was all over, they would be enlightened. They would ascend. It was supposed to be an honor, as the night before, you spent the night speaking to the elders and leaders of the pack. They would be the ones to inform you generally of what you were going to face. No one ever assumed any different. That's the way it was supposed to be. Besides, when one left, another came, to take their place. It was the order of things. Then, it all fell apart.


x. It started when he arrived. He brought with him questions, and innocent wonder at the world around him. He was curious, and to most, that was a good sing. It was accepted, and no one saw what came next. As a rule of the universe, you never listened in to the discussion of the leader and the newest journeyer. He never had been good at following rules. The threat, the anger, and the clear danger in the tone of the alpha was terrifying to him. As the alpha spoke, a sense of indignation rose within him, a feeling of honor that's been wronged. This wasn't a blessing. This was a way to get rid of those that knew too much. Those that knew too much, well, they would bring new ideas to the pack. That was unacceptable. As he listened that night, he learned, and as he learned, he found that his path was being laid at his feet, waiting to be walked.

x.Janga, as he was known as, would never of been sent on a journey had he simply kept out of it. He ruined everything. It was clearly known amongst the privileged, that should memories be awoken, be known, come back, then you were a danger to the pack. Awakened memories could be powerful. Awakened minds knew the truth, and that was something that their world was simply not ready for. Hence, the tradition of forcing those who remembered out, and away from the pack. Away from their community, into a dangerous area, into the unknown. Lies needed to be constructed to explain the disappearance of members. A protection against the truth, a mercy unknown to them. So the tradition started, and finished as a lie that few knew. Not everyone can live forever, and they were no exception. Death had already claimed them once, in their ignorance, and there was nothing more left to do than return to the word, the life stream that produced more life in the long run. Then, he came along and ruined it, with his ideas and cunning. He broke the chain of lies, and he broke the peace, and he broke everything that had ever held anything together.

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x. Unbeknownst to the main pack, there were those that had never known of the superstitious wolves. The remembrance of one's memories, was an opportunity, a chance at a new beginning, and the advancement in their lives. It was no surprise when Janga requested permission to stay with them, as they often took in cast off's and strays. It wasn't until he started whispering in the ears of the members that they became aware of the other pack, one that scorned the truth, if not down right feared it. They were shocked and dismayed by the ignorance of their unwilling neighbors, and it was with Janga's persuasion that the two pack leaders met. Instead of a blood bath or fight erupting as expected, a common peace once again ensued. It was shortly after this meeting, that the truth was common between both packs.


x. However, unknown to the pack's or their leaders, Janga's plan was being set into motion. You see, Artice, their world, is a kind of middle world between cosmic nothingness, and the living world. A sort of, reprieve, where you live a second life, before returning back to the world. A cycle, if you would. As the time of knowledge and sharing was upon them, the two packs thought nothing of their followers intermingling, and meeting others, it was a fine idea in their books. However, what they did not seem to think of, was that not everyone was nice and squeaky clean, there were those who lived and thrived in the darkness of the world's scum.

x. In the darkness of night, in the cool of the shadows, they met. They schemed, and they plotted for their moment. The packs were happy and content, and all was good, but no good thin can last for too long without the disruption of evil. It was under the cover of a moonless night, that it happened. The blood letting, the screams, the agony, the loss of false lives. It was a night of killers, and a night for the shadows to step into the light. It lasted until sunrise, and it lasted until the murderers were froced back into their box of shadows and lies.



x. When morning dawned upon the bloody valley, it seemed even the sky was bleeding, and the dawn was the color of blood. The dead were accounted for, and grief ran rampant amongst the survivors, and the reality of what had happened was like a titanic wave slamming into an unprotected beach. Rage and accusations swept from one wolf to another, anger and hurt feelings. They had been had, and they knew it, the dead knew it, and there was little that could be said or done to even begin to try and fix it. The two packs began to bicker and draw the line again, and festering wounds that settling on emotions, began to drive them towards their own fate. One pack became two, back to how it was, but now with the knowledge of what should never be. Behind, and between these two packs, a new pack, because in the aftermath, Janga's absence was never really noted. The killers, the scum, and the dangers of the world, now resided here. The winds bring change, but what will it entail? Who knows. You'll just have to find out, now won't you?


x.