Official Disclaimer: All references to Werewolf: the Apocalypse themes in this fic belong to White Wolf. I'm making absolutely no profit from this fic, and no copyright infringement was intended.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to Thor for your awesome review. Yours is the first one I've ever gotten that offered so much help with my writing. Sorry the first two parts seemed slow, but they were meant to set up this chapter where the entire plot is actually located. Yes, there is a plot to this one and some good (or somewhat decent) fight scenes as Anpw tries to survive her Rite of Passage (I think this qualifies as plot, but tell me if it doesn't, I'm not quite sure). Glad you liked the Strider stuff, more of that to come later, with a little in this fic. Oh, Anpw, as I pronounce it, is an-puh (an like in "and" with the uh being short at the end), though I'm not quite sure what the real way to say it is. However, despite the pronunciation, I thought it was better to use the real Egyptian name for the jackal god than to use Anubis, which is the Greek way of saying it. Anyway, don't forget to review and tell me how this part measures up, claw up or down.
Author's Note #2: More thanks to Tremere and Tigerclaw. I tried to eliminate all spelling errors (if you catch any more, please tell me) and flesh out the description more, as well as making it a bit longer. I finally found out what a moon bridge it actually like, so that part is much more descriptive. Yes, I always try to listen to my reviewers because they do contribute and catch things that I wouldn't. And Tremere, I bow to the holder of the 2nd claw. And thanks for the claw up. Anyway, the combined stories might take a while to write, but they'll be up someday.
Solitary Path
Part 3- "Journey"
By Ender
I stood in front of Avenger-of-Gaia, trying not to fidget as his strong gaze bored into me. An uncomfortable pause had overtaken our little isolated corner of the moot, and I couldn't help but feel that I wouldn't like what was waiting for me at the end of that silence. I didn't like this at all. I longed to push at the dirt at my feet with my leather boot, the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach on overdrive. Suddenly the elder spoke again, nearly causing me to jump at the booming sound of his voice.
"Your quest will be this, cub. Tomorrow, after the conclusion of this moot, a moon bridge will be opened and you will cross it alone. It has not been used in decades and none can tell you where it leads. After you arrive at the unknown destination, you will find your way back to this caern and tell us of your journey. If you are a Silent Strider and a Galliard, and only if you are truly these things, will you survive. And only then will you be accepted as one of our own. Do you accept this Rite of Passage?"
Surprised as I was, I remembered Lurker's instruction and met Avenger's gaze, then dropped my eyes, showing his dominance and my acceptance. This Rite was not what I had expected. I'd never heard of being left on your own in a strange place with no real battle to fight to prove yourself.
"Then it is decided. Let it be known that she called Anpw has accepted the challenge."
Howls erupted around me as the members of my tribe acknowledged the challenge. Ignoring them as I joined the circle and sat down on a rough tree stump nearby, I was overwhelmed. Thoughts whipped through my mind as I processed what he had just told me. I was going, by myself, to an unknown place with God only knows what creatures of the Wyrm there. Though I thought of myself as a decent fighter, I sure as Hell was no Ahroun, and taking on hoards of unknown creatures might give me just a little bit of trouble.
Sure I was afraid then, a coward even, but by the end of the ordeal I wasn't one anymore. I didn't know what was to come, though, as I stared blankly at the orange firelight flickering gently in front of my face, gradually warming it. Sean came over and patted me on the back, grinning widely at the evening's events. Shoving all apprehensions aside, I smiled back and talked for a while with him, then followed the lead of the other Striders and silently watched the proceedings of the moot.
Not one Silent Strider took part in the events that followed, though the storytelling portion of the moot intrigued me, causing me to lean forward to better hear the tales. A skilled Child of Gaia Galliard wove an absorbing tale of an encounter with a hive of Black Spiral Dancers, and other feats of local heroes were sung. The tale of the fall of the White Howlers was new to me, and it shook me as I realized what the Wyrm could do. Only scorn and disgust could be heard in the storyteller's voice, a pessimistic tone apparent in her words as a sour expression took over her face. This tale of the evil of the Black Spiral Dancers gave a new perspective on the Rite ahead me and what I had to prepare for.
As she reached the climax of the tale, and described the twisted and evil Dancers emerging from the first hive, everyone around her gasped, unable to hold in their emotion. Even elders who had most definitely heard the tale before were outraged, even more than the cubs surrounding them. I myself couldn't imagine the horrors and how deformed the servants of the Wyrm were from her description. If I had know then what I know now about the Black Spiral Dancers, I would've been paralyzed in fright, just by the mere mention of the abominations.
Later that night, Lurker came over and wished me luck, as he had to move on and hit the road after being in one place for far to long. I understood that Striders, even if they are close friends, usually never travel together, and took no offense at his parting. I thanked him for his invaluable help and told him that I would see him later as a Cliath, then went off to my own campsite and got some sleep. It took me an hour of restless tossing and turning, an admirable feat in my Lupus form, and countless minutes of staring at bright stars before slumber overtook me.
The next morning I opened my eyes to the rising sun at dawn and shook off my weariness, trying to get myself psyched up about the journey. Slowly gathering my things together, I cleaned up my campsite and mentally went over a checklist of things I needed to survive in an unknown place. I had heard of canteen fetishes that would always produce clear water to drink, and wished I had one. I knew I didn't need it, though, and could get by without it, my Strider traveling skills better than those of the other none-roaming tribes.
I met the elders at the site of the moon bridge, traveling to the side of the caern. A member of the sept opened it, a swirling-blue, oval shaped hole appearing in midair. Taking a quick glance at the site, my heart rate quickened and I was strangely reminded of portals in the old sci-fi movies I had watched in my previous life. Knowing that the time was at hand, I checked to see that I had my traveling supplies, then hefted my black backpack onto my shoulders and faced my fate. With a look at Avenger-of-Gaia, and the small acknowledging nod he gave me back with the dip of his head, I stepped through the hole, onto the bridge and started to walk on the glossy shaft of light.
Soon I was alone and strange things were all around me, a thick mist drifting around my feet. Unnerving sounds echoed, seemingly coming from nowhere and I silently hoped that nothing serious lurked in these bridges. I knew that spirits liked to latch onto Striders in particular, especially in the Umbra, and I fiercely prayed that the sometimes-malevolent spirits would ignore me. They would only be an annoyance, making the Strider life much worse than it had to be.
I had heard Lurker's testimonies about the bridges, but this being my first time on one I still was a little creeped out about being on it by myself. I just kept a steady pace, pretending it was another stroll through a forest and kept silent, keeping my footsteps as soft as I could. It wasn't too hard, considering I couldn't even see my feet below me because of the grayish mist which sometimes drifted up and threatened to swallow me. It frightened me on several occasions, the wisps hovering around my torso. The journey to the other side seemed to take hours and hours, but I made it across without any major problems. Following the iridescent sloping path downwards, I jumped through the exit and landed hard on my feet, my boots digging into the dirt.
I had stepped out into what looked like a forest preserve, with tall trees surrounding the area and obstructing my vision, birds chirping occasionally behind me. Looking around, I realized I was standing in a caern that had been abandoned, desolate structures that had been leveled standing eerily to my left. Crumbled stone and rotting wooden planks were the only evidence that something had been there at all.
I was immediately on guard, knowing that only minions of the Wyrm could do this damage. My rage mounted as I surveyed the destruction. Even though this wasn't my caern, attack on any Garou holy place was a grave offense. Shifting into Crinos to be ready for attack, I used my jet-black fur as camouflage as I melted into the shadows around me, stepping backwards and ceasing any small movements. Slowly, with minimal motion, I crept around the site, my still anger rising as I took in the destruction and partial skeletons dotting the ruins. After circling the damage, nothing was out of the ordinary, barring the old ruins and remains, but I checked again. Whatever had happened, it happened a long time ago, but you could never be too sure.
When I had convinced myself that nothing was going to happen and no minions of the Wyrm were near, I picked up the backpack I had set down, shifted back to Homid, and made way for civilization. I didn't have to look that far; an hour of walking down an abandoned road led me to a reasonably sized town that seemed to be a smaller suburb of another city in the distance. Strolling down the main street at a typical Strider pace, going relatively fast but not running, I watched the people walking past me on the sidewalk. No one paid much attention to me, though I did get some strange looks for the muddy boots and pants I wore with a tank top and long tan jacket, my comfortable traveling clothes. I was used to it, teenagers got those looks all the time.
Now nearing the edge of town, I went into a gas station with a huge red billboard advertising outrageous gas prices and bluntly asked where I was. The strange-looking, middle-aged guy at the counter gave me yet another funny look and told me I was right outside of Seattle matter of factly, looking at me like I was nuts. I thanked him and left, though I knew his wide, torrid eyes were staring at me as I trekked back to the road. He would forget about me soon, or so I thought.
By the time I made it back to the forest and set up a camp, dark was falling, and I quickly ate some rations and turned in, making sure that I was in a relatively safe and protected place. A rock outcropping protected me from the elements and the view of any predator that stumbled across my path. Even as I slept, my senses were alert for any strange noises, my early warning system. It wasn't alerted that night and the next morning I woke up and started walking east, refusing to ask for rides out of my determination to complete my Rite of Passage on my own.
This routine continued for days, and after a while I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't have anything to tell the Strider elders when I returned. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. I realized I was starting to get bored and I chastised myself, knowing that boredom is dangerous and leaves you open for attack. My attitude shaped up pretty damn quick, and I was alert every second as I pictured banes and enemies lurking in the shadows. Still, I enjoyed some of the places I visited, interested to learn of the local people and observe the slowly changing accents as I continued towards the caern across the Midwest.
One day, less than a week after my journey had started, the simple routine changed. Drastically. I had been walking through a nice wooded area on a clear day, enjoying myself, when I heard the bushes many yards back unnaturally rustle. My strong sense of hearing picked up the sound again a few seconds later, and I could hear the creature trying to follow me inconspicuously. Not wanting to alert it that I knew it was there, I made for civilization, hoping to bring it out in the open while remaining in Homid form and continuing my stroll in a diagonal path.
Before I got to a town I lost scent of it, my skills not up to par, having never been used for this purpose. My hearing was good, but the thing had disappeared from its spot. My blood ran cold as I realized that it probably had wanted me to hear it stalking me. This obviously was a very experienced opponent. I knew it wasn't another friendly Garou, they would've introduced themselves in general protocol, and the stiff hair on the back of my neck backing up my thoughts that it was an enemy. This had the vicious feel of the Wyrm.
As I was debating what to do and stupidly wasting time as I walked, a black shape sprung from the greenery with an ear-piercing screech and slammed into me. I barely had enough time to assume my Crinos form before the creature's claws ripped into my pelt, drawing blood that unnaturally colored the trees as a wide spray shot out from the wound. His teeth sliced into me, and I could feel where his canine tooth broke off and stuck into my skin where it had punctured me. In horror, I realized he was trying to rip off a piece of my flesh to eat it, just like in the legends.
I roared in pain, barely controlling my rage as I summoned a burst of strength and threw my opponent across my back and into a tall tree. He hit with a sickening thud and fell stunned for a moment, rolling over and bracing himself on his thick arms. In that split second, I assessed what it was, and my blood turned to ice as I took in the sight.
The Black Spiral Dancer was malformed, his eyes wide with a wild madness and bulges distorting his inane grin. Oil oozed through his gray fur and I could feel the sticky liquid burning on my hands where I had touched him. Now I knew the disgust that the Garou felt when they talked about the Fallen Ones. This...thing...was hideous.
The rakes his claws had made across my flesh burned and throbbed as an intense pain I had never felt before spread throughout my body. Crimson streaks flashed across my vision as I stared at the Dancer, who had picked himself up in the sparse seconds I had been recovering. With a maniacal laugh, his legs twitched in anticipation and he launched himself at me again. This time I was ready.
Sidestepping his attack with a grace known to my tribe, I turned as he went by and latched onto his back. Biting into his exposed neck, I nearly gagged at the foul oily taste of his fur and the awful rotting flesh smell that filled the air. My gleaming fangs found purchase, though, and I ripped away some of his back with a quick wrench of my head as the muscles in my neck strained with effort. He swung around clumsily with a large paw, and I managed to inflict even more wounds on his arms as he tried to hit me with his enormous fist. I smashed him headfirst into a tree trunk with all of my bottled strength and backed away, a plan forming in my mind.
Again I called on my powers of stealth and made myself disappear in the small, but deep, black shadow of a nearby rock overhang. Crouching down, I prepared to spring and gathered power into my legs, my muscles slightly twitching in anticipation. He turned with another high-pitched screech and then froze when he could see no one around him. He looked around the clearing cautiously in jerky movements, trying to find me in the forest around him.
Still observing his surroundings, he turned and looked right at me. Oh shit, I thought to myself, this is it. End of the road. I prepared myself for an attack, but it never came. His gaze slowly moved away and he began to walk around, sniffing the air forcefully. I knew that once he was close enough, he would catch my scent. I had to attack when he was at my left or I was dead. Though I had won a few blows, he was bigger and stronger than me, and would get me in the end. Galliards were passionate and strong, but like I said, I sure as Hell wasn't an Ahroun.
C'mon, you bastard, get closer. Closer. I whispered fiercely in my mind. The Dancer staggered near me, his smell becoming overpowering again as he closed in. I slowed my breathing, trying not to be heard and at the same time repel the stench to prevent myself from gagging. Then he stopped and turned his head away from me, distracted. His unguarded posture was a beautiful sight for me as I watched his actions.
Now. I let loose a fearsome howl as I leapt out of my hiding place. He was startled and didn't even manage to get an arm up as I smashed into his body feet first, gouging out his middle with my enormous talons. His entrails spilled across the ground in a steaming pile of bloody goo and he dropped to his knees, trying to force his organs back in a futile attempt at saving himself. His intestines just slipped loosely out of his grip and he desperately tried to grasp them, his movements slowing down over a few seconds, eyes widening. Slowly, with one final shriek, the Dancer froze and fell face first on the ground as a sour scent filled the air and black blood pooled around him. He shifted back down to his Homid form, now recognizable as the cashier at the gas station. Or at least almost recognizable, his torso and middle completely obliterated.
Ignorant of the gory sight I stood over and wrapped up in my rage, I howled again over his body, a fearsome, low-pitched bay that echoed around me and sung of my triumph. It was my first true kill, and I was elated in the feelings of power that ran through me, channeled by Rage. I was a hunter, and I had taken down my prey.
Only then did I notice that a voice had joined mine and another Garou was in the clearing as well, howling along with me at my victory. His silver fur gleamed as he finished and lowered his head, looking at me, poised yet peaceful. I assessed what kind of threat he posed, but he stood there calmly until I let down my guard, muscles finally loosening. His scent was not of the Wyrm, and his demeanor seemed to be that of an ally. Walking over to me, he changed into Homid and spoke, looking at my handiwork.
"I was going to offer some help, but it seems that you didn't need it." He looked to be around twenty-five years old, with shaggy blond hair and an easygoing face. I replied, changing to Homid also after pulling out the Dancer's tooth that was still lodged in my arm and waiting for my wounds to heal.
"Nope, I guess I didn't. It was part of my Rite of Passage, anyway, so you probably couldn't have helped me. But thanks." I placed the tooth, still stained with its owner's blood, into my pocket and glanced up at him. He looked confused, his eyebrows crinkling together.
"That was your Rite? Where is your mentor, that watches your actions during the time of passage?"
"Don't have one, man. My tribe belongs to the school of 'leave you somewhere alone and find your way back, no matter what happens'." The man was clearly surprised, his eyes opened wide as he processed the information.
"What tribe would that be?" I grinned to myself, then looked up at him, tucking a loose hair behind my ear.
"The Silent Striders. Enough about me, though. What are you doin' here in the middle of nowhere?"
He followed my lead as I picked up my gear and slung it across my back. We set a decent traveling pace and retrieved his things, then set off towards the road. On the way he explained that he was a Stargazer named Ethan Bordeaux and had just finished his Rite of Passage himself after five years of intense study in Tibet. His mentor, who gave him the name Blooming Lotus, had sent him to be part of a pack being formed at the Sept of the Seven Suns.
I was surprised and interested to find this out, for that was the caern I had to make it back to myself. I hadn't heard about the pack being formed, but Ethan explained that the Garou there had proposed a pack to be formed of five different tribes that would work to break some tribal misconceptions and work in peace. The Shadow Lords were involved, so I knew that they were just looking out for their alliances and hidden agendas. Of course, that was probably the main reason for all of the tribes' participation.
Turning my mind to more pressing matters, I told Ethan that I would join him in the journey to the caern, which was still a week away on foot. I didn't think the elders would mind if I had a traveling companion as long as he didn't help me out too much. Many Striders traveled with another Garou, so I didn't think I was breaking any specific Garou Rite of Passage laws. Ethan accepted my company and we exchanged general information we had heard on the road. I didn't see the reason why the Garou didn't trust the Stargazers reflected in Ethan, his wisdom making sense to me, but I knew that many still wouldn't accept him. Despite this, we were soon friends, not sharing our most intimate secrets, but still holding some conversations when I wanted to talk, breaking the Strider stereotype.
We made our way across the Midwest, pausing only at night to get some sleep. In my sparse free time, I carved a hole in the Dancer tooth I kept from my first kill and strung it on a leather thong that I tied around my neck. It was an interesting contrast to the ankh necklace hanging next to it, but both were reminders of my people, Garou and Strider.
One night Lotus and I stumbled on a traveling Strider that was camped on the muddy abandoned road we were following. To my immense luck, she was a Galliard that was experienced in the Pakiv Swatura and was willing to teach me more than the basics. I needed the instruction since only skilled dancers of the Pakiv Swatura were allowed to dance it in moots. For a day, she taught me of the more complex forms, used to tell tales of adventures and heroes. Ethan used the time to meditate on a large rock with yoga-like poses as we leapt gracefully around in circles, presenting the tale of Rain Hunter, a famous Wendigo.
Then came the new concepts, dance forms for humorous tales that were wild and required full concentration and strength, not to mention a boatload of energy. She taught me unique throws, which were used on other dancers and the occasional and rare non-Strider that was sometimes asked to participate in the dance-tale. Many times I fell flat on my back, trying to toss her lithe form up high while spinning around myself. Jesus, that was hard.
By the time the lesson was over, I was dizzy and exhausted, dropping down onto the hard ground as my weak legs gave out. The Pakiv Swatura tested even the famous Strider endurance. I was a fast learner, and remembered all of the moves she had taught me in intricate detail, a skill that would serve me well in my later years. I went over the patterns in my head as I tried to fall asleep. Like many days before, I was unsuccessful and rose up to take a walk to clear my head. Looking to my left I saw Clear Sky, the gray-furred Strider, turn over, restless.
Noticing she was still up also, I asked her if she knew any great epics that I could relate to my audiences. She sat up and told me the tale of our tribe's dark secret and how we had been banished millennia ago from our homeland, cursed to wander by the evil vampire known as Set. I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't understand why my moronic tribe hadn't asked the other tribes for help in defeating the vampires and reclaiming our home. She had no answer to why they hadn't, but said no one from the Garou nation other than members of our tribe knew what had happened and couldn't be told. She seemed to agree with them about keeping the secret and I kept my silence, not wanting to debate it with her. I was sad to see her go the next day, the road calling to her as it called to Ethan and I to move on.
Before we parted ways, she took a short time to explain to me a Strider rite called Feralia that was performed on February 13 and instructed me not to miss it. It involved sacred stones known only to Striders and a desperate night of running to communicate with our ancestors, who had been torn from us when we were banished from Egypt. I had heard of it before, but the reminder and advice on how to find the stones was good for me, considering the day was not that far away. At least I had a few months to prepare.
We continued our trek and two days later reached the outer bawn of the caern. Knotting a bright blue bandanna around my head, we howled our greetings and purpose to the Warder, who let us pass after a long inspection. The moot was going to start when the sun came down, we had made it just in time. I said goodbye to Ethan as I headed towards the isolated corner where the Striders hung around and reached up to rub the Dancer tooth, trying to calm my nerves.
As I approached, I could see only Avenger-of-Gaia was still here, new Striders joining him as others had clearly moved on. Avenger was one of the few Striders that called a caern home and he was rooted there for life, a very rare exception to the rule. I walked up in front of him and dropped my head to show deference. Then I spoke in a formal manner while projecting my voice, looking up at him as he examined me.
"I have returned to the Sept of the Seven Suns after completing the quest given to me by the elder Avenger-of-Gaia. I bring tales of my journey and news of the caern I was sent to." Avenger-of-Gaia looked pleased, but I wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks or not.
"Then you shall finish your challenge and tell us of your travels." He gestured widely to the assembled Striders, wanting me to tell my tales to only them, not to the entire caern at the moot. It was to be a private affair, though I didn't know whether to be apprehensive or relieved.
I stood before the elders and warriors and told of my journey, starting with the abandoned caern near Seattle that was ravished and ruined forever, then moved on to the Dancer's attack. Moving on to a brief encounter with an inexperienced werewolf hunter that I had done away with, I completed my tale with news I had learned from the Strider Ethan and I had met on the road. I knew the account wasn't as engaging as a tale of great heroes vanquishing a huge servant of the Wyrm, but I accompanied my story with slight twists and turns taken from the Pakiv Swatura. I couldn't practice the full kind yet because of my lack of experience, but the small motions and my suspenseful tone kept my listeners enthralled. I was definitely in my element.
When I finished, Avenger-of-Gaia rose, his tall frame once again distorted by the firelight. Speaking to all of the assembled Garou and not just me, he projected his voice for all to hear, at a volume where we could listen, but outsiders couldn't.
"A tale masterfully told. You left us a cub, inexperienced in the ways of the world. You return to us a warrior and a bard that rivals many gathered here. You have completed your challenge with grace, stealth, and skill, as is the Silent Strider way. You have proven yourself, Anpw who Stalks the Shadows, and are ready to become one of us. Step forward and be recognized as one of our own, a Cliath among us." I moved to stand in front of him, my back to the assembled viewers.
"Let it be howled to all the Garou nation that this pup is now a Garou."
The small crowd of Striders erupted into a howl that carried its joyful note over the caern. It was an experience that I would never forget, being accepted by my people for the first time. I joined them in a howl that spoke of my joy as others approached and slapped me on the back for a job well done.
Avenger walked over with an earthenware bowl in his hand. He dipped his giant Crinos claw into the dark mud it contained and drew the glyph of my tribe on my exposed arm, the flowing symbol standing out on my arm. I knew that its loose translation was journey, perfectly mirroring the philosophy of my tribe, as well as my own. As Avenger-of-Gaia murmured the end of the rite to Mother Gaia, I knew I was one of them for life.
After the scene had calmed down again, the Striders again sat down around the fire, now in good spirits. Ready for more tales, they started up a Strider custom that was new to me. Known as the Darane Swatura, the tale started with one Garou and went around the fire, another part being added on by each Strider. Each part tried to outdo the one before its' humor and by the time it had gone around once, we were all laughing so hard we couldn't talk. Only then did it end, and I was down in the ground laughing for a good ten minutes afterwards as we remembered the absurd story. Just the thought of a noble Shadow Lord wallowing in an ill-placed dung pit, snarling with rage set me off giggling in an instant. Picturing it just made me laugh harder, a strange story, but hilarious.
I remember thinking it was a shame that the other tribes thought of us as serious and strange, almost aloof. I had never seen a more lively bunch of Garou, save for the Fianna, who were known for their wildness. We Silent Striders were open with each other, just feigning silence with other tribes. Perhaps it was a mistake, the vampires' curse proof of that, but it was an all right system. I felt that we were fine, but we had to confide in someone, someday. But it wasn't going to happen, and I wasn't going to be the one to break the age-old silence. Or so I thought.
As I retired to rest before the moot, I was in one of the best moods I had ever felt. I shifted to Lupus and circled my 'bed', then laid down and rested my head on my paws. Thinking that I was going to start my new life by leaving for new places the next day, I slept well. My backpack was packed, ready to go after a night of watching the moot's proceedings. I had no idea of what was to come, and what would seal my fate at the gathering that night. A surprise lay in store for me, one that I would never forget.
To be continued with the help of my friend Scully in either a new chapter in this story or a new fic to be posted. Keep an eye out for when Kaiya and Anpw meet, things are going to get a little interesting.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to Thor for your awesome review. Yours is the first one I've ever gotten that offered so much help with my writing. Sorry the first two parts seemed slow, but they were meant to set up this chapter where the entire plot is actually located. Yes, there is a plot to this one and some good (or somewhat decent) fight scenes as Anpw tries to survive her Rite of Passage (I think this qualifies as plot, but tell me if it doesn't, I'm not quite sure). Glad you liked the Strider stuff, more of that to come later, with a little in this fic. Oh, Anpw, as I pronounce it, is an-puh (an like in "and" with the uh being short at the end), though I'm not quite sure what the real way to say it is. However, despite the pronunciation, I thought it was better to use the real Egyptian name for the jackal god than to use Anubis, which is the Greek way of saying it. Anyway, don't forget to review and tell me how this part measures up, claw up or down.
Author's Note #2: More thanks to Tremere and Tigerclaw. I tried to eliminate all spelling errors (if you catch any more, please tell me) and flesh out the description more, as well as making it a bit longer. I finally found out what a moon bridge it actually like, so that part is much more descriptive. Yes, I always try to listen to my reviewers because they do contribute and catch things that I wouldn't. And Tremere, I bow to the holder of the 2nd claw. And thanks for the claw up. Anyway, the combined stories might take a while to write, but they'll be up someday.
Solitary Path
Part 3- "Journey"
By Ender
I stood in front of Avenger-of-Gaia, trying not to fidget as his strong gaze bored into me. An uncomfortable pause had overtaken our little isolated corner of the moot, and I couldn't help but feel that I wouldn't like what was waiting for me at the end of that silence. I didn't like this at all. I longed to push at the dirt at my feet with my leather boot, the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach on overdrive. Suddenly the elder spoke again, nearly causing me to jump at the booming sound of his voice.
"Your quest will be this, cub. Tomorrow, after the conclusion of this moot, a moon bridge will be opened and you will cross it alone. It has not been used in decades and none can tell you where it leads. After you arrive at the unknown destination, you will find your way back to this caern and tell us of your journey. If you are a Silent Strider and a Galliard, and only if you are truly these things, will you survive. And only then will you be accepted as one of our own. Do you accept this Rite of Passage?"
Surprised as I was, I remembered Lurker's instruction and met Avenger's gaze, then dropped my eyes, showing his dominance and my acceptance. This Rite was not what I had expected. I'd never heard of being left on your own in a strange place with no real battle to fight to prove yourself.
"Then it is decided. Let it be known that she called Anpw has accepted the challenge."
Howls erupted around me as the members of my tribe acknowledged the challenge. Ignoring them as I joined the circle and sat down on a rough tree stump nearby, I was overwhelmed. Thoughts whipped through my mind as I processed what he had just told me. I was going, by myself, to an unknown place with God only knows what creatures of the Wyrm there. Though I thought of myself as a decent fighter, I sure as Hell was no Ahroun, and taking on hoards of unknown creatures might give me just a little bit of trouble.
Sure I was afraid then, a coward even, but by the end of the ordeal I wasn't one anymore. I didn't know what was to come, though, as I stared blankly at the orange firelight flickering gently in front of my face, gradually warming it. Sean came over and patted me on the back, grinning widely at the evening's events. Shoving all apprehensions aside, I smiled back and talked for a while with him, then followed the lead of the other Striders and silently watched the proceedings of the moot.
Not one Silent Strider took part in the events that followed, though the storytelling portion of the moot intrigued me, causing me to lean forward to better hear the tales. A skilled Child of Gaia Galliard wove an absorbing tale of an encounter with a hive of Black Spiral Dancers, and other feats of local heroes were sung. The tale of the fall of the White Howlers was new to me, and it shook me as I realized what the Wyrm could do. Only scorn and disgust could be heard in the storyteller's voice, a pessimistic tone apparent in her words as a sour expression took over her face. This tale of the evil of the Black Spiral Dancers gave a new perspective on the Rite ahead me and what I had to prepare for.
As she reached the climax of the tale, and described the twisted and evil Dancers emerging from the first hive, everyone around her gasped, unable to hold in their emotion. Even elders who had most definitely heard the tale before were outraged, even more than the cubs surrounding them. I myself couldn't imagine the horrors and how deformed the servants of the Wyrm were from her description. If I had know then what I know now about the Black Spiral Dancers, I would've been paralyzed in fright, just by the mere mention of the abominations.
Later that night, Lurker came over and wished me luck, as he had to move on and hit the road after being in one place for far to long. I understood that Striders, even if they are close friends, usually never travel together, and took no offense at his parting. I thanked him for his invaluable help and told him that I would see him later as a Cliath, then went off to my own campsite and got some sleep. It took me an hour of restless tossing and turning, an admirable feat in my Lupus form, and countless minutes of staring at bright stars before slumber overtook me.
The next morning I opened my eyes to the rising sun at dawn and shook off my weariness, trying to get myself psyched up about the journey. Slowly gathering my things together, I cleaned up my campsite and mentally went over a checklist of things I needed to survive in an unknown place. I had heard of canteen fetishes that would always produce clear water to drink, and wished I had one. I knew I didn't need it, though, and could get by without it, my Strider traveling skills better than those of the other none-roaming tribes.
I met the elders at the site of the moon bridge, traveling to the side of the caern. A member of the sept opened it, a swirling-blue, oval shaped hole appearing in midair. Taking a quick glance at the site, my heart rate quickened and I was strangely reminded of portals in the old sci-fi movies I had watched in my previous life. Knowing that the time was at hand, I checked to see that I had my traveling supplies, then hefted my black backpack onto my shoulders and faced my fate. With a look at Avenger-of-Gaia, and the small acknowledging nod he gave me back with the dip of his head, I stepped through the hole, onto the bridge and started to walk on the glossy shaft of light.
Soon I was alone and strange things were all around me, a thick mist drifting around my feet. Unnerving sounds echoed, seemingly coming from nowhere and I silently hoped that nothing serious lurked in these bridges. I knew that spirits liked to latch onto Striders in particular, especially in the Umbra, and I fiercely prayed that the sometimes-malevolent spirits would ignore me. They would only be an annoyance, making the Strider life much worse than it had to be.
I had heard Lurker's testimonies about the bridges, but this being my first time on one I still was a little creeped out about being on it by myself. I just kept a steady pace, pretending it was another stroll through a forest and kept silent, keeping my footsteps as soft as I could. It wasn't too hard, considering I couldn't even see my feet below me because of the grayish mist which sometimes drifted up and threatened to swallow me. It frightened me on several occasions, the wisps hovering around my torso. The journey to the other side seemed to take hours and hours, but I made it across without any major problems. Following the iridescent sloping path downwards, I jumped through the exit and landed hard on my feet, my boots digging into the dirt.
I had stepped out into what looked like a forest preserve, with tall trees surrounding the area and obstructing my vision, birds chirping occasionally behind me. Looking around, I realized I was standing in a caern that had been abandoned, desolate structures that had been leveled standing eerily to my left. Crumbled stone and rotting wooden planks were the only evidence that something had been there at all.
I was immediately on guard, knowing that only minions of the Wyrm could do this damage. My rage mounted as I surveyed the destruction. Even though this wasn't my caern, attack on any Garou holy place was a grave offense. Shifting into Crinos to be ready for attack, I used my jet-black fur as camouflage as I melted into the shadows around me, stepping backwards and ceasing any small movements. Slowly, with minimal motion, I crept around the site, my still anger rising as I took in the destruction and partial skeletons dotting the ruins. After circling the damage, nothing was out of the ordinary, barring the old ruins and remains, but I checked again. Whatever had happened, it happened a long time ago, but you could never be too sure.
When I had convinced myself that nothing was going to happen and no minions of the Wyrm were near, I picked up the backpack I had set down, shifted back to Homid, and made way for civilization. I didn't have to look that far; an hour of walking down an abandoned road led me to a reasonably sized town that seemed to be a smaller suburb of another city in the distance. Strolling down the main street at a typical Strider pace, going relatively fast but not running, I watched the people walking past me on the sidewalk. No one paid much attention to me, though I did get some strange looks for the muddy boots and pants I wore with a tank top and long tan jacket, my comfortable traveling clothes. I was used to it, teenagers got those looks all the time.
Now nearing the edge of town, I went into a gas station with a huge red billboard advertising outrageous gas prices and bluntly asked where I was. The strange-looking, middle-aged guy at the counter gave me yet another funny look and told me I was right outside of Seattle matter of factly, looking at me like I was nuts. I thanked him and left, though I knew his wide, torrid eyes were staring at me as I trekked back to the road. He would forget about me soon, or so I thought.
By the time I made it back to the forest and set up a camp, dark was falling, and I quickly ate some rations and turned in, making sure that I was in a relatively safe and protected place. A rock outcropping protected me from the elements and the view of any predator that stumbled across my path. Even as I slept, my senses were alert for any strange noises, my early warning system. It wasn't alerted that night and the next morning I woke up and started walking east, refusing to ask for rides out of my determination to complete my Rite of Passage on my own.
This routine continued for days, and after a while I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't have anything to tell the Strider elders when I returned. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. I realized I was starting to get bored and I chastised myself, knowing that boredom is dangerous and leaves you open for attack. My attitude shaped up pretty damn quick, and I was alert every second as I pictured banes and enemies lurking in the shadows. Still, I enjoyed some of the places I visited, interested to learn of the local people and observe the slowly changing accents as I continued towards the caern across the Midwest.
One day, less than a week after my journey had started, the simple routine changed. Drastically. I had been walking through a nice wooded area on a clear day, enjoying myself, when I heard the bushes many yards back unnaturally rustle. My strong sense of hearing picked up the sound again a few seconds later, and I could hear the creature trying to follow me inconspicuously. Not wanting to alert it that I knew it was there, I made for civilization, hoping to bring it out in the open while remaining in Homid form and continuing my stroll in a diagonal path.
Before I got to a town I lost scent of it, my skills not up to par, having never been used for this purpose. My hearing was good, but the thing had disappeared from its spot. My blood ran cold as I realized that it probably had wanted me to hear it stalking me. This obviously was a very experienced opponent. I knew it wasn't another friendly Garou, they would've introduced themselves in general protocol, and the stiff hair on the back of my neck backing up my thoughts that it was an enemy. This had the vicious feel of the Wyrm.
As I was debating what to do and stupidly wasting time as I walked, a black shape sprung from the greenery with an ear-piercing screech and slammed into me. I barely had enough time to assume my Crinos form before the creature's claws ripped into my pelt, drawing blood that unnaturally colored the trees as a wide spray shot out from the wound. His teeth sliced into me, and I could feel where his canine tooth broke off and stuck into my skin where it had punctured me. In horror, I realized he was trying to rip off a piece of my flesh to eat it, just like in the legends.
I roared in pain, barely controlling my rage as I summoned a burst of strength and threw my opponent across my back and into a tall tree. He hit with a sickening thud and fell stunned for a moment, rolling over and bracing himself on his thick arms. In that split second, I assessed what it was, and my blood turned to ice as I took in the sight.
The Black Spiral Dancer was malformed, his eyes wide with a wild madness and bulges distorting his inane grin. Oil oozed through his gray fur and I could feel the sticky liquid burning on my hands where I had touched him. Now I knew the disgust that the Garou felt when they talked about the Fallen Ones. This...thing...was hideous.
The rakes his claws had made across my flesh burned and throbbed as an intense pain I had never felt before spread throughout my body. Crimson streaks flashed across my vision as I stared at the Dancer, who had picked himself up in the sparse seconds I had been recovering. With a maniacal laugh, his legs twitched in anticipation and he launched himself at me again. This time I was ready.
Sidestepping his attack with a grace known to my tribe, I turned as he went by and latched onto his back. Biting into his exposed neck, I nearly gagged at the foul oily taste of his fur and the awful rotting flesh smell that filled the air. My gleaming fangs found purchase, though, and I ripped away some of his back with a quick wrench of my head as the muscles in my neck strained with effort. He swung around clumsily with a large paw, and I managed to inflict even more wounds on his arms as he tried to hit me with his enormous fist. I smashed him headfirst into a tree trunk with all of my bottled strength and backed away, a plan forming in my mind.
Again I called on my powers of stealth and made myself disappear in the small, but deep, black shadow of a nearby rock overhang. Crouching down, I prepared to spring and gathered power into my legs, my muscles slightly twitching in anticipation. He turned with another high-pitched screech and then froze when he could see no one around him. He looked around the clearing cautiously in jerky movements, trying to find me in the forest around him.
Still observing his surroundings, he turned and looked right at me. Oh shit, I thought to myself, this is it. End of the road. I prepared myself for an attack, but it never came. His gaze slowly moved away and he began to walk around, sniffing the air forcefully. I knew that once he was close enough, he would catch my scent. I had to attack when he was at my left or I was dead. Though I had won a few blows, he was bigger and stronger than me, and would get me in the end. Galliards were passionate and strong, but like I said, I sure as Hell wasn't an Ahroun.
C'mon, you bastard, get closer. Closer. I whispered fiercely in my mind. The Dancer staggered near me, his smell becoming overpowering again as he closed in. I slowed my breathing, trying not to be heard and at the same time repel the stench to prevent myself from gagging. Then he stopped and turned his head away from me, distracted. His unguarded posture was a beautiful sight for me as I watched his actions.
Now. I let loose a fearsome howl as I leapt out of my hiding place. He was startled and didn't even manage to get an arm up as I smashed into his body feet first, gouging out his middle with my enormous talons. His entrails spilled across the ground in a steaming pile of bloody goo and he dropped to his knees, trying to force his organs back in a futile attempt at saving himself. His intestines just slipped loosely out of his grip and he desperately tried to grasp them, his movements slowing down over a few seconds, eyes widening. Slowly, with one final shriek, the Dancer froze and fell face first on the ground as a sour scent filled the air and black blood pooled around him. He shifted back down to his Homid form, now recognizable as the cashier at the gas station. Or at least almost recognizable, his torso and middle completely obliterated.
Ignorant of the gory sight I stood over and wrapped up in my rage, I howled again over his body, a fearsome, low-pitched bay that echoed around me and sung of my triumph. It was my first true kill, and I was elated in the feelings of power that ran through me, channeled by Rage. I was a hunter, and I had taken down my prey.
Only then did I notice that a voice had joined mine and another Garou was in the clearing as well, howling along with me at my victory. His silver fur gleamed as he finished and lowered his head, looking at me, poised yet peaceful. I assessed what kind of threat he posed, but he stood there calmly until I let down my guard, muscles finally loosening. His scent was not of the Wyrm, and his demeanor seemed to be that of an ally. Walking over to me, he changed into Homid and spoke, looking at my handiwork.
"I was going to offer some help, but it seems that you didn't need it." He looked to be around twenty-five years old, with shaggy blond hair and an easygoing face. I replied, changing to Homid also after pulling out the Dancer's tooth that was still lodged in my arm and waiting for my wounds to heal.
"Nope, I guess I didn't. It was part of my Rite of Passage, anyway, so you probably couldn't have helped me. But thanks." I placed the tooth, still stained with its owner's blood, into my pocket and glanced up at him. He looked confused, his eyebrows crinkling together.
"That was your Rite? Where is your mentor, that watches your actions during the time of passage?"
"Don't have one, man. My tribe belongs to the school of 'leave you somewhere alone and find your way back, no matter what happens'." The man was clearly surprised, his eyes opened wide as he processed the information.
"What tribe would that be?" I grinned to myself, then looked up at him, tucking a loose hair behind my ear.
"The Silent Striders. Enough about me, though. What are you doin' here in the middle of nowhere?"
He followed my lead as I picked up my gear and slung it across my back. We set a decent traveling pace and retrieved his things, then set off towards the road. On the way he explained that he was a Stargazer named Ethan Bordeaux and had just finished his Rite of Passage himself after five years of intense study in Tibet. His mentor, who gave him the name Blooming Lotus, had sent him to be part of a pack being formed at the Sept of the Seven Suns.
I was surprised and interested to find this out, for that was the caern I had to make it back to myself. I hadn't heard about the pack being formed, but Ethan explained that the Garou there had proposed a pack to be formed of five different tribes that would work to break some tribal misconceptions and work in peace. The Shadow Lords were involved, so I knew that they were just looking out for their alliances and hidden agendas. Of course, that was probably the main reason for all of the tribes' participation.
Turning my mind to more pressing matters, I told Ethan that I would join him in the journey to the caern, which was still a week away on foot. I didn't think the elders would mind if I had a traveling companion as long as he didn't help me out too much. Many Striders traveled with another Garou, so I didn't think I was breaking any specific Garou Rite of Passage laws. Ethan accepted my company and we exchanged general information we had heard on the road. I didn't see the reason why the Garou didn't trust the Stargazers reflected in Ethan, his wisdom making sense to me, but I knew that many still wouldn't accept him. Despite this, we were soon friends, not sharing our most intimate secrets, but still holding some conversations when I wanted to talk, breaking the Strider stereotype.
We made our way across the Midwest, pausing only at night to get some sleep. In my sparse free time, I carved a hole in the Dancer tooth I kept from my first kill and strung it on a leather thong that I tied around my neck. It was an interesting contrast to the ankh necklace hanging next to it, but both were reminders of my people, Garou and Strider.
One night Lotus and I stumbled on a traveling Strider that was camped on the muddy abandoned road we were following. To my immense luck, she was a Galliard that was experienced in the Pakiv Swatura and was willing to teach me more than the basics. I needed the instruction since only skilled dancers of the Pakiv Swatura were allowed to dance it in moots. For a day, she taught me of the more complex forms, used to tell tales of adventures and heroes. Ethan used the time to meditate on a large rock with yoga-like poses as we leapt gracefully around in circles, presenting the tale of Rain Hunter, a famous Wendigo.
Then came the new concepts, dance forms for humorous tales that were wild and required full concentration and strength, not to mention a boatload of energy. She taught me unique throws, which were used on other dancers and the occasional and rare non-Strider that was sometimes asked to participate in the dance-tale. Many times I fell flat on my back, trying to toss her lithe form up high while spinning around myself. Jesus, that was hard.
By the time the lesson was over, I was dizzy and exhausted, dropping down onto the hard ground as my weak legs gave out. The Pakiv Swatura tested even the famous Strider endurance. I was a fast learner, and remembered all of the moves she had taught me in intricate detail, a skill that would serve me well in my later years. I went over the patterns in my head as I tried to fall asleep. Like many days before, I was unsuccessful and rose up to take a walk to clear my head. Looking to my left I saw Clear Sky, the gray-furred Strider, turn over, restless.
Noticing she was still up also, I asked her if she knew any great epics that I could relate to my audiences. She sat up and told me the tale of our tribe's dark secret and how we had been banished millennia ago from our homeland, cursed to wander by the evil vampire known as Set. I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't understand why my moronic tribe hadn't asked the other tribes for help in defeating the vampires and reclaiming our home. She had no answer to why they hadn't, but said no one from the Garou nation other than members of our tribe knew what had happened and couldn't be told. She seemed to agree with them about keeping the secret and I kept my silence, not wanting to debate it with her. I was sad to see her go the next day, the road calling to her as it called to Ethan and I to move on.
Before we parted ways, she took a short time to explain to me a Strider rite called Feralia that was performed on February 13 and instructed me not to miss it. It involved sacred stones known only to Striders and a desperate night of running to communicate with our ancestors, who had been torn from us when we were banished from Egypt. I had heard of it before, but the reminder and advice on how to find the stones was good for me, considering the day was not that far away. At least I had a few months to prepare.
We continued our trek and two days later reached the outer bawn of the caern. Knotting a bright blue bandanna around my head, we howled our greetings and purpose to the Warder, who let us pass after a long inspection. The moot was going to start when the sun came down, we had made it just in time. I said goodbye to Ethan as I headed towards the isolated corner where the Striders hung around and reached up to rub the Dancer tooth, trying to calm my nerves.
As I approached, I could see only Avenger-of-Gaia was still here, new Striders joining him as others had clearly moved on. Avenger was one of the few Striders that called a caern home and he was rooted there for life, a very rare exception to the rule. I walked up in front of him and dropped my head to show deference. Then I spoke in a formal manner while projecting my voice, looking up at him as he examined me.
"I have returned to the Sept of the Seven Suns after completing the quest given to me by the elder Avenger-of-Gaia. I bring tales of my journey and news of the caern I was sent to." Avenger-of-Gaia looked pleased, but I wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks or not.
"Then you shall finish your challenge and tell us of your travels." He gestured widely to the assembled Striders, wanting me to tell my tales to only them, not to the entire caern at the moot. It was to be a private affair, though I didn't know whether to be apprehensive or relieved.
I stood before the elders and warriors and told of my journey, starting with the abandoned caern near Seattle that was ravished and ruined forever, then moved on to the Dancer's attack. Moving on to a brief encounter with an inexperienced werewolf hunter that I had done away with, I completed my tale with news I had learned from the Strider Ethan and I had met on the road. I knew the account wasn't as engaging as a tale of great heroes vanquishing a huge servant of the Wyrm, but I accompanied my story with slight twists and turns taken from the Pakiv Swatura. I couldn't practice the full kind yet because of my lack of experience, but the small motions and my suspenseful tone kept my listeners enthralled. I was definitely in my element.
When I finished, Avenger-of-Gaia rose, his tall frame once again distorted by the firelight. Speaking to all of the assembled Garou and not just me, he projected his voice for all to hear, at a volume where we could listen, but outsiders couldn't.
"A tale masterfully told. You left us a cub, inexperienced in the ways of the world. You return to us a warrior and a bard that rivals many gathered here. You have completed your challenge with grace, stealth, and skill, as is the Silent Strider way. You have proven yourself, Anpw who Stalks the Shadows, and are ready to become one of us. Step forward and be recognized as one of our own, a Cliath among us." I moved to stand in front of him, my back to the assembled viewers.
"Let it be howled to all the Garou nation that this pup is now a Garou."
The small crowd of Striders erupted into a howl that carried its joyful note over the caern. It was an experience that I would never forget, being accepted by my people for the first time. I joined them in a howl that spoke of my joy as others approached and slapped me on the back for a job well done.
Avenger walked over with an earthenware bowl in his hand. He dipped his giant Crinos claw into the dark mud it contained and drew the glyph of my tribe on my exposed arm, the flowing symbol standing out on my arm. I knew that its loose translation was journey, perfectly mirroring the philosophy of my tribe, as well as my own. As Avenger-of-Gaia murmured the end of the rite to Mother Gaia, I knew I was one of them for life.
After the scene had calmed down again, the Striders again sat down around the fire, now in good spirits. Ready for more tales, they started up a Strider custom that was new to me. Known as the Darane Swatura, the tale started with one Garou and went around the fire, another part being added on by each Strider. Each part tried to outdo the one before its' humor and by the time it had gone around once, we were all laughing so hard we couldn't talk. Only then did it end, and I was down in the ground laughing for a good ten minutes afterwards as we remembered the absurd story. Just the thought of a noble Shadow Lord wallowing in an ill-placed dung pit, snarling with rage set me off giggling in an instant. Picturing it just made me laugh harder, a strange story, but hilarious.
I remember thinking it was a shame that the other tribes thought of us as serious and strange, almost aloof. I had never seen a more lively bunch of Garou, save for the Fianna, who were known for their wildness. We Silent Striders were open with each other, just feigning silence with other tribes. Perhaps it was a mistake, the vampires' curse proof of that, but it was an all right system. I felt that we were fine, but we had to confide in someone, someday. But it wasn't going to happen, and I wasn't going to be the one to break the age-old silence. Or so I thought.
As I retired to rest before the moot, I was in one of the best moods I had ever felt. I shifted to Lupus and circled my 'bed', then laid down and rested my head on my paws. Thinking that I was going to start my new life by leaving for new places the next day, I slept well. My backpack was packed, ready to go after a night of watching the moot's proceedings. I had no idea of what was to come, and what would seal my fate at the gathering that night. A surprise lay in store for me, one that I would never forget.
To be continued with the help of my friend Scully in either a new chapter in this story or a new fic to be posted. Keep an eye out for when Kaiya and Anpw meet, things are going to get a little interesting.