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ligbi · 3 years

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Hecate or Hekate

Usually a titan goddess daughter of perses and asreria, though sometimes of zeus by asreria, or zeus and demeter, goddess of crossroads and magic, sometimes the dark moon Has a pack of dogs, controls ghosts, can impart wisdom and magic but hell hath no fury like a goddess who does not believe you are deserving Hecate suppers are held by worshipers of black female lamb, Honey, and dog, and the leftover are left at crossroads on a full moon She is often times seen as a triplicate goddess, both the new moon with selene the full moon and artemis of the cresent moon, and the sky goddess with artemis's earth and persephone's underworld Hekate is associated with the underworld and saw persephone's capture by Hades from a cave Pre hellenistic time she may have come from an asia minor country before becoming a respected titan during the hellenistic era, and worship of her persisted through the medival era when she was villainized by the church

Source 1: early greek myth timothy gantz Daughter of Peres the ravenger titan (noted for his wisdom) and Asreria a titan of the stars, though sometimes zeus is stated to be the father, she is goddess of the crossroads Hesiod says she helps men in victory and success If She Wishes it, is honored by zeus, general helper of men, but no early association with the moon Usually ahows up in any given telling of the rape of persephone to tell demeter of what she saw when persephone was taken away by hades Homeric hymn to demeter ends with hecate becoming attendant of persephone, and shes been seen on pottery escorting persephone back from the underworld She is also associated with iphigenia the daughter who was being sacrificed at the start of the war with troy that was saved by artemis, as iphi is sometimes called artemis of the road or artemis einodia, an enoida by the 5th century was a title of hekate Some sources seem to link hecate and artemis in a one and the same capacity, like how she has been said to be the child of leto who is traditionally the mother of artemis and apollo Euripide's Medeia calls her a patronness of drugs and poisons A 5th century piece portrays her as a tripple goddess, but with herself not in the lunar triplicate we usually associate with her. Theres a suggestion of the triple form having her lower body turned into black dogs, much like scyllas lower half was transformed to, and in some sources she is the mother of scylla, and sometimes is hecate is deemed the child of nyx the primordial night goddess, though she is called a daughter of demeter in orphoc tradition Tl;DR for all this, crossroads goddess heavily associated with persephone and artemis, not the moon, yes poison, helps people when she wants to, lineage as with all gods a questionable mess Going back to source 1 for a moment-oops- iphengenia was a sacrifice for a fast expedition to the war at troy/because her dad agamemnon pissed off artemis through bragging,, and artemis swapped the girl for a deer last second, and in some tellings is made immortal, and the author pausanias says she was turned into hekate The einodia term associated with hecakte is also used of demeter and persephone Hekate has long standing association with artemis but not as an aspect of Bonus the term hekatos means far darter is is sometimes applied to apollo

Source 2 Guide to the gods- marjorie leach Goddess of underworld and the night, daughter of nyx and tatarus or asteria and peres, mother of scylla Magic powers and sorcerery bestows prosperity and wisdom, this cites her as an early thracian moon goddess A goddess whose powers extended to all regions ( heaven earth sea underworld), protective of doors and gates, crossroads and travelers, can be malevolent scares men w/ghosts and demons, can bestow honor victory fortune wealth but witholds them from the undeserving in her eyes Magic includes divination and oracles Source 3 dictionary of comparative religions s.g.f. brandon Cthonian and pre hellenic, 3 faced, associated with the uncanny and ghosts, worshiped at crossroads which are traditionallh haunted by the dead, hecate suppers are monthly offerings made at the crossroads usually included dog flesh Her cult survived till the middle ages It was mentioned in source 1 a woman(hekabe) during the fall of troy was turned into a dog and is sometimes said to belong to hekate

Source 4 the new book of goddesses and heroines patricia monaghan Crossroads, sacred dogs, bearing a torch, night, offerings left at three way crossroads, some say she has 3 heads serpent horse and dog While hecate walked, followers gathered insidd for their hekate suppers over which they swapped magic knowledge and secrets of sorcerery, sacrifices of dogs honey and black female lambs. This implies you had a meal and then offered leftovers at the crossroads Calling her a snake goddess Another mention of thracian origins, argument that she is a form of demeter, argument she is a form of persephone Sometimes a titan but still respected by zeus which basically never happens so shes a big deal Mention of worship into classical times, both hekate suppers and public sacrifices celevrated by great ones (caberioi) of honey black lady sheep, dogs, and oh yikes black human slaves Said to be the crone of persephone demeter trio or the dark moon in the artemis and selene trinity, rules spirits of the dead, powers of regeneration,can hold back ghosts, greek women evoked hecate for protection when they left their houses by putting up a threefold image at their door Trying to find more qbout caberioi but so far google only gives me this exact source as source. Look further into later....

Source 5 the women's encyclopedia of myths and secrets barbara g walker Trinity, deruved from the egyptian midwife goddess heqit/heket/hekat, who evolved from the tribal matriarch of pre dyanastic egypt heq, a wise woman in charge of mothers words of power Heqit delived the sun god every mornong from his mother hathor, her totem is the frog, symbol of the fetus, still associated with her when christians 4k years later declared her queen of witches Trinity crossroads underworld, hekate trevia or hecate of the three ways Offerings left on full moons Invoked by those setting out on journies Called the most lovely one, which is a lunar title, this says her triplicate is hecate selene of the moon, artemis the hunter on earth, and persephone the destroyer in the underworld Hecate selene the far shooting moon, mother of dionysus (who while eventually having the mortal mother semele, is a child of zeus and persephone zagreus which is a whole thing i like to yell about ) which is a wild pull but if you say hekate/selene/artemis/persephone are the same person then I Guess Here shes mentioned as the crone to hebe the virgin and hera the mother Symboyl of the new moon figure in white robes, golden sandals, torches lit, a basket of crops she made grow Middle ages queen of the ghostwprld or queen of witches, diabolized by catholics who hate midwives And now for anoter wild pull: hekate was helping a woman in labor, the gods feared magical contagion and put her in the river acheron to wash away birth mana, the river took her underground where she married hades. ...what also a mention that hecabe the queen of troy transformed into hekate's dog, a black female one names maera mara or moera (the destroying fate) Source 6 the new century classical handbook catherine b avery Triple goddess with persephone and artemis, persepbone attendant, powers over ssa eartj sky, gave riches and good fortunes, lead the souls of the dead, associated with ghosts magic and witcjcraft Invisible to mortals but dogs can see her, passes through the night with spectral hounds, dogs sacred to her, crossroads goddess, triple bodied back to back, romans call her trivia, also associated with demeter rhea and persephone Rhea of course being mother of zeus hades posideon hestia hera demeter Cult of rhea associated with fertility rites, has her own mysteries like dionysus, helped her persephone topside after the hades thing, associated with the asian mother goddess cybele, roman magna mater and ops Trivia: roman epitget of hecate and diana when shes associated with hecks Guide to gods called trivia goddess of crossroads streets and highways can be malicious

Source 7 Whos who in greek and roman mythology david kravitz Goddess of underworld, daughter of asteria and perses or zeus and demeter, taught magic to medea her priestess, pictured with torch, epithet for luna, diana, and persephone, other eputhetos enodia the wayside goddess, trioditis goddess of meeting of three routes, also possible crantaeis whose the mother of scylla Trivia is mentioned here as epithet of diana

Source uhhh 8? Dictionary of ancient deities patricia turner Underworld night darkness queen of ghosts and shades, controller of hidden things of nature, presides over birth life death streets and gates, taught medea her pristess magic, only worshiped at night by torchlight, dogs sacred, has a pack of hounds, sacrified to her are black lambs and dogs, shown sometimes with 3 heads: dog horse and Lion Possible moon goddess, standard perses are asteria and zeus and demeter maybe heritage May be the indian Ekata Associated with artemis and persephone and selene The name Brimo used for hekate persephone demeter and rhea Hekate used as epithet of luna/selene and diana and persephone Also known as akitiophi artemis brimo crantaeis diana enodia proerpina selene trioditis Crantaeis loops back to hekate, more redirects for brimo as with aktiophi No entry in here for ekata Just says trivia is name for artemis No mention of ekata in previously sourced books and my only indian myth books are stories and mythology of all races: 6 indian iranian which has no index and isnt a handy alphabetized list .....might have meant native americans let me cross check those Also naught India india has three water god brothers one names ekata Googling qnd saying a goddess from asia minor carian so says a guy whose book from 87 i dont have

Source 9 classical mythology mark p.o. morford Hekate put the fury tisiphone in charge of guarding the grove of avernus Hekate sometimes resembles the furies in appearance and character Medea met jadon at a shrine to hekate Source 10 lost goddesses of early greece charlene spretnak Dark moon cthonic associations gjosts, hekate suppers, food offered as a form of purification, image used above the house to ward off evil, mother of witches, some sites in greece her torches carried around freshly sown fields to promote fertility Zeus and hera kid (???) She gives heras rouge to europa and hides in a house where she midwifes which makes her impure (hey this story again) Standard stuff but covens await hekate near drooping willow trees where she appears and imparts magic knowledge, nest of snakes in her hair, her form became human and animal, favored herbs black poppy, smilax, mandragora, aconite Without death there is no life gonna skim a few more to see if anything else not already mentioned but... Nope.

Source 11 myths of the female divine goddess david leeming From the dark moon she brings soma, unwelcome truth Was in a cave when she saw persephone kidnapped She can heal and teaches magic, more snakes in hair, a necklace of testicles...... once showed up as a boat to kill her love /son and restored him on a new moon

Source 12 a guide to the gods richard carlyon Goddess of moon magic riches wisdom victory flocks and navigation Defends children, associated with regeneration, honored in asia minor and boetia, shows up as crossroads tombs and scene of crime

#hecate #hekate #mythology monday #roman mythology #greek mythology

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camptartarus · 4 years

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✨WELCOME TO CAMP TARTARUS✨

WELCOME TO CAMP TARTARUS

“All the bad demigods get sent to Camp Tartarus”

Welcome to Camp Tartarus, Your friendly neighborhood hell camp for bad demigods and extra bad mortals. Sometimes even gods but we don't talk about that.

Here at Camp Tartarus we strive to give you the ‘best’ hell experience we can! Here are some happy words from our very happy and friendly staff!

1) “ Welcome to Camp Tartarus, A wonderful torture camp for the best of the worst people!” - Hades Lord of the dead, Camp Director

2) “ Camp Tartarus is a camp to keep 'troubled’ campers in line.” - Thanatos Death himself, Camp Co-Director

3) “ Here at Camp Tartar Sauce i’m the therapist. I will deal with all your problems in the best way possible!, I assure you i'm qualified!” - Eris Mistress of chaos, Camp Therapist

4) “ Your arrival to Camp Tartarus will be something, we can safely say, you have never seen before. ” - Charon Daimon of boundaries, Camp Bus Driver

5) “ Can't wait to see your ‘lovely’ face, at this very nice family run Camp!”- Nyx Mistress of the night, Camp Land Lord

6) “At Camp Tartarus we have the top grade medical equipment blessed by Erebus himself! Which includes, but is not limited to, Leaches, Salt, Lemon Juice, flavored Cyanide pills, and much more!” - Hecate Mistress of magic, Camp Medic 7) “I may not see you as often as the others, but I assure you that you will enjoy this place during your time here” - Persephone Goddess of spring, part time Volunteer

#camptartarus #tartarus #underworld #hades #hecate #eris #nyx #thanotos #charon #death #greek #greek mythology #pjo #hoo #toa #rick riordan #persephone

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prophet-of-chaos · 3 years

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THE TESTAMENTS

> HISTORY

( There is graphic content beyond, detailing death and violence. Such is the nature of life in this universe. A censored TL;DR has been included at the beginning. ) A MOMENT IN TIME Nyx was born as one of twins to the Kishi clan after a barren period without children. Given the name Sayomi and her twin brother Yoruko, they were both promised in service to their patron deity Cosmos as thanks for blessing the clan with twins.

Nyx disliked the life of a young acolyte because she frequently received horrible visions while meditating in contact with Cosmos. Instead, she indulged in the travellers that frequently visited Asmodia to trade, seeking stories and knowledge from them.

A historian she befriended from one of the crews helped her to trace back some of her clan’s history to a time where they were proud warriors and served a different deity. One of the temple sites he showed her pictures of was the same as one she had seen in her visions. Intrigued by this, Nyx sought out said god, known only as Chaos. They received her inquiries with vigour, indulging all her questions and accepting her as a servant on the following conditions: she would endeavour to restore their power and notoriety in the galaxy; she would become a vessel for balancing the universe in their favour and meting out their justice; and she would be devout to Chaos’ teachings, all in return for great powers.

Spurred by promises from this being and a growing distrust of her clan’s true motives for her life, Nyx escaped with the historian’s crew and smuggled herself out into the universe. She forsook the name Sayomi, and adopted the mantle Nyx, given to her by Chaos. She travelled with this crew for a time, devoting herself to the teachings of Chaos and creating simple wares for the crew to sell as a way of giving back to the ship. The historian and several other members of the crew died in a tragic oversight while they were exploring a historic site. Seeking a powerful relic of Chaos, they ran into scalpers looking to strip the ruins for valuables. The ensuing tussle claimed the lives of her closest companions, and their bloodshed awakened the weapon dormant within the ruins — Celeste, a cursed war-hammer and battle axe with a fragment of Chaos’ power living inside. Though the scalpers escaped, Nyx felt responsible for the outcome, and promised to take up the historian’s work and mantle to honour all he had done for her.

She also took up bounty hunting, to both empower herself and hunt down the crooks that murdered her crew. After making good on her promise to avenge them, she continued to pursue the bounty hunting pathway, eventually rising to the top of the ranks and dominating Inner Eye as the Top Hunter for 13 years.

Nyx retired 4 years ago to allow time for her historic curation and preservation interests, but remained supportive of Delilah Leach who followed to take the title.

More recently, she made contact with her twin brother after hearing the Kishi clan had been purged from their planet due to an crash and an environmental disaster. She didn’t realise he was infected with a Carnasite, and when her guard was down, became infected with a particularly vicious strain of the parasite through a bite from Yoruko. Regrettably, she ended up killing him and retreating to cope with the incoming effects of the infection.

Chaos instructed her to seek refuge in one of His temple chambers, immersed in His power to give her the best chance of surviving the invader’s changes. She disappeared during this period for years, before being recovered along with Celeste from a mysterious temple buried under the shifting sands of Ha’tut in a portal guarded by a Voledan Sandworm.

She now serves as an assistant leader and point of guidance for the Inner Eye faction, under Motus’ leadership.

THE BIRTH OF A SPECIES The Kishi clan arrived on Asmodia a millennia ago, after their ancestral species the Keph’rah escaped a war-torn homeland and journeyed out into the galaxy.

The Keph’rah were birthed from the pressures of warring aliens and a hostile landscape, the break-down of these species developed a novel hybrid. From those too weak to be warriors and too timid to be leaders came a new nocturnal species seeking a new home.

They were guided into the stars by a galactic force known only as Chaos. They became devout to Chaos, who gifted them preternatural magical abilities in exchange for all-consuming worship. The Keph'rah travelled extensively, scattering about the stars. Some splintered off along the way, settling new planets they never left. Others reached out to new deities, seeking new pathways. Fewer still remained true to the path of a follower, building monuments and beautiful temples across the galaxy until they simply... vanished, along with most of the evidence they ever existed, over a thousand years ago. The entirety of this erasure baffled galactic historians, and became a point for much research for those interested in such affairs.

One of the surviving splinters became the Kishi, settling on Asmodia under the instruction of a gentle guiding force they came to know as Cosmos. They presented themselves to the young Keph’rah as a maternal, warm deity, kinder and more forgiving than Chaos had ever been. Cosmos promised that the Keph’rah would find peace and safety on Asmodia, that she would not demand such intense sacrifice from her followers, and that those under her care would only prosper. As proof of this offer, Cosmos instructed them where was safest to settle, what to consume, sent the most perceptive of them forewarning visions of terrible weather or animal threats, so they could best prosper in their new home.

What they didn’t realise was the more control they allowed this deity, the more Cosmos quietly shaped them as a species. The closest and most devout began to take on mystic qualities and prophetic dreams, driving them further from Chaos. They lost much of their magical ability, but in exchange, an awakened few developing blinded eyes in their palms. These always looked skyward to their Goddess and saviour, Cosmos, receiving visions and dreams to further aid the clan. Fewer and fewer males were born into the clan, their history of strength and warrior leadership dwindling, despite being what had carried them thus far into the galaxy. Most of the clan found they didn’t mind these changes once they became aware, giving themselves a new name to distance themselves further from the ones they had left behind. And thus, the Kishi became devoted servants to the Supreme Mother, Cosmos.

THE ADVENT OF A PROPHET

Nyx was born thousands of years after the Keph’rah’s first settlement, when their origins had become folklore and little but a buried part of the Kishi’s history. It was an unspoken taboo to dwell on the past, many eager to please their Goddess’ to continue receiving blessings of future-sight. Nyx’s birth signalled the dawn of great peace for the Kishi clan. She was born as one of twins, after several barren years for the clan. Despite a healthy small population, plenty of resources, and a slowly growing territory, the Kishi clan had no children for many years. She represented the answer to the Kishi’s prayers and the future of their clan. She was called Sayomi, a night-gifted beauty from the stars, and her brother Yoruko, a child of darkness and starlight.

True to the system of their matriarchal clan, Sayomi had been promised to Cosmos when she was born as thanks for heeding the clan’s prayers. Her life had been mapped for her, projecting devoted service in the name of Cosmos. Many would be privileged to take on the duties of a priestess in the clan, as few were gifted with foresight and a close connection to the Goddess’ visions.

This life never seemed to suit Sayomi, though she had been born for its purpose. Whenever she received her training, she would complain of terrible visions and dreadful nightmares, unbefitting for such a kind goddess’ powers. She would see foreign places crumbling, bloodshed, children screaming. Blood splattered on the stones of a temple floor. A mother with babe ripped from her arms. A warrior falling on his sword. A priest being incinerated in a great wall of flames. Rapture.

The visions were always extremely vivid and detailed. She displayed a strong aptitude for the future-sight aspect of her training and receiving visions, but hated using it because it brought her such distress. The clan thought she was lying to shirk her divine duties, and ignored her complaints.

Cosmos was kind. Cosmos was benevolent. Cosmos would not show a child such terrible things. Sayomi simply had an overactive imagination.

This disbelief made her despise her service, and she avoided it at all costs.

She was a restless, rambunctious, daring, and most of all, curious child. Though she remained a polite student, she was an unwilling acolyte, much preferring to tag along with the foraging parties and her brother, who gathered food for the clan. She loved the thrill of finding old settlements scattered about the planet, hints of their ancestors embedded in the trunks of towering mushrooms and gentle rivers weaved by ancient hands to find water for their clan. She felt as though some of the ancient carvings might hold the key to unlocking her visions and explaining some of the things she saw. Yoruko was also the opposite of what he was born to be. He was timid, and much preferred to hide behind his sister’s skirts. He’d offer to hold her gathered food rather than pick it himself, scared of even a bug’s pin-prick bite or an animal rustling in the undergrowth. A far cry from the bold and efficient gatherer spot he was supposed to fulfil, the two of them became insular. Yoruko preferred his twin’s company, and Sayomi preferred to have none at all. The clan viewed them as an odd pair, murmurings that they might even be cursed with chaotic energy... but they persisted. Everybody found their place in the clan eventually. There was no space for those who didn’t.

DAWN OF A NEW FUTURE

Situated on the edge of a trade route, Asmodia saw regular traffic from traders looking stock up on exotic and rare native wares from their resource-rich planet. Though they were a private and secretive species for the most part, they did enjoy their trading. The technology and news from the surrounding galaxy these travellers brought was welcome, both as part curiousity and part opportunity to spread the teachings of their Goddess Cosmos. The Kishi had amicable relations with their visitors, and even gained a host of regular traders who would come with larger shipments in exchange for a prepared selection of teas and jewellery. Contrary to the rest of her peers, Sayomi thrived on these mysterious travellers. As a youngling, she would make regular efforts to sneak away from her elders to have extra time with visitors, even if that went as far as clambering into their ships as a temporary (and terribly obvious) stowaway. The traders humoured her, for they were as curious about the secretive Kishi people as she was about the wider universe. She tried her best to learn Galactic Common, trading pictures drawn with berry dye and charcoal at first, until she could understand more of their stories. They told her of the galaxy, of the people they traded with, the history of the wares they bartered. In return, she showed them the buried parts of the jungle on Asmodia, pieces of their history and their first settlements. She also shared what trees to dig under to find the rare luminescent stones, and what beautiful fruits were safe to pick for vibrant dyes. Some of the traders were just eager to make the best deal and be on their way, and told her useless fibs in exchange for her information and items. One regular crew took quite the liking to her though. There was a young historian aboard who was just as fascinated by the history of her planet and people as she was. She spent long hours with him, tracing the history of her clan to their original ancestors in the Keph’rah, and the powers that had guided them to their salvation.

In particular, he showed her a photo of an ancient temple he had visited, and she realised — though she had never been there, she knew that place. She had seen it in her visions, time and time again. Intrigued, she asked him to bring her more information about the temple and the being they had worshipped there. SECRETS OF AN ANCIENT PEOPLE

Thrilled by the chance to finally explain herself, she brought up her revelation to the Elders of the clan. She wasn't mad, nor cursed — she was seeing visions! True visions, of places that existed, and people in the past!

But they swore her to secrecy.

The people she had spoke of worshipped the wrong God, and were long gone. Irrelevant. Dangerous. She was never to speak of the past again; she was to abandon these foolish pursuits, and focus on the fitting. Cosmos only ever showed visions of the future. To be viewing the past was wrong, and clearly these travellers had put thoughts in her head. Sacrilegious thoughts. The Elders began to restrict the number of travellers allowed near the settlement, and further restrict her access to them.

Wounded and outraged, it began to occur to Sayomi just how much of their past had been kept from her during her studies. The Elders had known about their heritage, and yet had always denied her questions! If their people had such a proud spacefaring history with so many great warriors that had brought them here, why were they actively trying to bury it? Why did they destroy the relics of their first settlements, and shun even play-fighting amongst the children?

She began to distrust the Cosmic deity. Tasked with many long hours of meditation daily to become closer to Cosmos, Sayomi started to hate the practice, the manicured lifestyle, every effort she made in service to Cosmos.

Instead, she spent her time of mandatory meditation casting her mind out, further into the galaxy, seeking connections from other powers. On some days she would disappear altogether, running away from the clan and wandering for days in a trance-like state. If there was one controlling and all-powerful being, surely there were others who would be more compassionate to her lust for knowledge. It was half curiousity, half angry defiance, with little care for what repercussion may come her way from those she made contact with. Her life was so orchestrated, every disruption and threat removed from her as though she were a perpetual child. She never truly expected an answer.

THE UNIVERSE LISTENS TO THOSE WHO CRY

A voice responded to Sayomi’s dreaming, one both familiar and unfamiliar to her. She knew she had never heard them in her lifetime, but had the distinct feeling that many before her had been close to this being. They introduced themselves as Chaos, and welcomed her back to the fold as a true child of theirs.

They were a being of great power who dwelled in the past, but whose influence had dwindled over time as their followers had been struck by misfortune. She connected to His qualities of balance, justice and clairvoyance. A secret part of her supposed Chaos had been the one sending her visions of the past, all this time.

When Chaos spoke to her, it felt like she had come home again. They welcomed her inquiries, embracing the mind that had travelled far from her body and allowing it to stay in their company. Time stretched out endlessly, though mere minutes had passed in her body. Every time she sought them out, she learned a little more, yearned for their power and their influence to free her from the mindless existence as a priestess in training. She ached for the literal chaos they promised, to reclaim their warrior history and connect to the past that had been so desperately kept from her.

And so, Chaos promised her everything she wished for. The power to change her destiny. The power to reclaim her past. The power to harness the universe and stoke the wildfire of her heart, that need to explore.

In exchange, she would become His Prophet.

They would accept her as a servant on the following conditions: she would endeavour to restore their power and notoriety in the galaxy; she would become a vessel for balancing the universe in their favour; she would mete out their justice accordingly; and she would be devout to Chaos’ teachings. She agreed, gladly. She would abandon the new way and return to the old. She would no longer be Sayomi — instead, she would become Nyx, the name offered to her by Chaos to claim her. By the time she had returned to her body, the pact had been made.

ESCAPE FROM ASMODIA

The change was almost immediate when she returned. The eyes on her palms awakened and blazed with divine purple fire, the first of her gifts. Her eyes took on an unnatural, violet hue, and though she did not realise it at the time, it was at that moment that Cosmos had forsaken her and denied her the ability of future-sight.

The clan was horrified, believing her cursed, and she fled without time to even bid Yoruko farewell.

Thankfully, the Historian’s crew had not yet departed, and she managed to convince them to allow her on board. In exchange for her skills as a seamstress that she had learned in training, she would be allowed to board if they could sell her creations. She agreed, thankful that they would not need to return to Asmodia for such wares soon, and left with them into the universe beyond.

THE GALAXY BELONGS TO CHAOS

Life aboard the Trader’s ship was not what she had expected, but she loved every moment of it. She threw herself whole-heartedly into the physical work of maintaining the old cargo clunker, spending every dreaming moment with Chaos. They slowly made other powers available to her, her most beloved one being Clairvoyance. She tested it on every item they collected for trade in the ship, training her connection to Chaos and her use of His divine abilities.

Her bargain with the Captain (with the aid of the historian) had been for every successful batch of fabrics they made, they would seek out an ancient site she had been shown in a vision by Chaos. There would surely be relics there she would get permission to trade, and they could restore a part of the site to reinvigorate Chaos’ reach in the galaxy.

This worked peacefully, for a time. She became hardy and capable, studying common languages so she could speak freely, without a translator and reading with the Historian. They restored several sites across the galaxy in Chaos’ name and prospered. She remembers this part of her life fondly and full of wonder.

Like most reveries however, this one did not last.

BECOME ONE WITH THE STARS, MY DEAR FRIENDS

Chaos gave her a vision of a powerful relic which had once consumed a part of His physical vessel and stored a great deal of power. It had many names over the millennia it had existed, but once Nyx had it, it would be hers to name and bear. It was a weapon fitting of a proud warriors’ history, and had been wielded by some of her ancestors many years ago.

When they arrived at the site, it seemed just as she had seen in her ancient visions, only aged by the weather and scratched at by scavengers. Some lesser carvings had been stolen from the walls, gems picks out of statues’ eyes, but the innermost chambers remained intact. Following the instruction of her deity, Nyx guided her small crew of the Historian, the Engineer, the Captain and the Surveyor into the ruins, leaving a skeleton crew and the Medic back on their waiting ship.

Absorbed in their explorations, they had not noticed a small band of scalpers had followed them into the ruins, catching wind of their conquests on nearby planets and looking to snag a few spoils for themselves.

Inside the temple, Nyx found the dormant hammer she would come to call Celeste, the Reaver of Stars. It slumbered, unwitting in its new owners hands, much too heavy for her and unwieldy. She did not fret — there would be time to learn how to best use it later. She had not expected to wish for those lessons so soon.

As they turned to leave, they were ambushed by a nasty group of grave-diggers. Several bandits and a mutant hound, they had not come to bargain. This inner chamber had remained a mystery for so long to many bands who wished to claim its contents. They would do anything, anything, to take those items for themselves. Fatally inexperienced and unequipped for such an encounter, the Traders crew left with one survivor that day: Nyx.

The Surveyor had been shot first, the Engineer set upon by knives. The Surveyor was caught trying to find cover to set explosives, and the Captain had bravely defended them until the hound had stripped every last one of the tentacles from his face.

Nyx froze in the face of violence, the scene she had seen so many times in her nightmares. Those screams, that blood — it was the vision of her friend’s deaths, a final resounding gift from Cosmos. She had always thought it was a view of the past, but she had seen these deaths many times before.

The Historian, ever the bookish man, had bravely pulled his gun on the bandits and stood in Nyx’s way, though he bled from his side and limped to her defense. They were terribly outnumbered now... and it was his blood that awakened Celeste.

The hammer split at the scenes, pulsing with sinew and loosing a terrible, anguished scream as it awakened to the taste of innocent blood.

It was a terrible, bloody dance that followed, Nyx barely conscious in her rage. Chaos took the reigns at some point, allowing her to abound in the reckless, divine chaos of the moment. She did not wield Celeste with experience, only blind grief and terror. It was enough to smite a few and send the others scrambling with a small handful of gems from the chamber. Nyx was too exhausted to pursue, still detached from her body as Chaos aided her, stumbling back to the ship. There had been no survivors, confirmed by the Medic.

The shock of the loss left her reeling. Truthfully, Nyx never quite recovered from that fateful day and the loss of the crew, especially not the Historian and the Captain who represented so much of her freedom and journey thus far. She felt terribly responsible for leading them there and putting them in the temple that day. Chaos urged her to seek balance... These feelings were as a result of an unfair loss that had left the ‘scales’ unbalanced. She should press onwards and seek revenge, to level the scales of justice in His favour again.

She gladly took this explanation as motivation, seeking some kind of direction after she was left drifting, listless following the loss. In an effort to memorialise her fallen crew, she took up the Historian’s mantle, continuing his research across the galaxy. As for the lives of the others... She turned to bounty hunting. She was sure to get her revenge that way.

THE TURN OF AN AGE — BALANCE RESTORED

Full of sorrow and remorse, Nyx left the fractured Trader’s crew. She had expressed her desire for revenge, and hoping to redirect her, the Medic had suggested she should try ‘Fortune’. Armed with her new weapon and a burning desire to never be helpless again, Nyx grew her strength day by day and conquered each power Chaos allowed her. She hunted, small things at first, testing her strength... and then tracked down every single remnant of that scalping crew with fervent determination that surprised even herself.

She exacted bloody revenge on every single one that had caused her grief and caused pain to her true family. The carnage delighted Chaos, who spurred her onwards. Her hunts became bigger, fostering a connection with Celeste and developing her unique fighting style to help her climb the ranks. She used her talents, those inherited from her clan and those gifted to her by Chaos, to become a fearsome hunter in the upper echelons of Fortune. Her strength belied her stature, a moonlit priestess who left curses and ashes in her wake.

For 13 years, she reigned as the Top Hunter for Inner Eye, renowned for completely reshaping battlefields to her whim, smiting the worst of her targets with inextinguishable purple flames and leaving those ‘live’ targets with a death sentence, branded into their skin. Death would come for them all, and Chaos would claim those who denied Him.

To her faction, she remained the polite mentor the Captain had taught her how to be, and the willing student the Historian had instilled in her. She guided those lost to the pathway of Chaos, and restored the fading history of those whose voices had been lost to time.

EVENING COMES FOR ALL OF US

An upcoming hunter in the ranks caught her eye — a Delilah Leach, as tenacious as she was capable. The history of each of her members was important to her, of course, but it never overshadowed the individual. She felt herself becoming restless again, seeking the fulfilment of her historical work over the endless hunting. She would continue to hunt, but would simply rescind the mantle to somebody new, to shift the balance to new, promising power so she could continue to spread the word of Chaos.

She maintained a good relationship with Delilah, supporting the new hunter as she distanced herself from hunting for a time. She dropped off the radar for a time, and rumour had it she made contact with her twin brother Yoruko after he made contact with her...

The truth of the rumour was that the Kishi clan had been hit with terrible disaster — first an environmental disaster after a trading ship had crashed carrying hazardous goods, starving most of the population into oblivion. Next, the planet they had fled to for salvation had been infested with a terrible, insatiable parasite.

When he reached out, he still had clarity of mind and control of his body. By the time she met with him, he had become nigh rabid, barely managing to keep his mind intact long enough to speak to her. In a moment of weakness, she embraced him, and their proximity overwhelmed his waning control. Yoruko bit her with a festering bite, a pain unlike any she had experienced before in her time hunting. Her hands blazed reflexively, Chaos igniting them in an effort to protect his prophet. She was too anguished to douse the flames, howling as she struggled with her own pain and watched her brother burn.

Nyx would come to learn later what kind of mercy she had given him, instead of allowing him to starve as a Carnasite vessel. At the immediate moment, she could barely manage with the changes that began to swiftly take hold of her, the strain she had been infected with particularly savage. Chaos strained their power to transport her to the nearest temple location, a buried portal on Ha’tut in the badlands outside Zavora. Protected by a great Voledan Sandworm, in a plain that continuously shifted, they believed she would be safe as she He worked on the worst of the parasite’s effects.

Inside the chamber, Chaos laid Nyx to rest in the embrace of His power. Weaved into a cocoon by the raging Carnasite, Nyx slumbered for the next few years. Considered dead to most, missing to others, Fortune would occasionally get sporadic signals from the tracking tag on Celeste, signal bleeding through the magic barrier that protected the temple chamber.

She would have continued to lie dormant there, if an expedition from Inner Eye had not happened upon the temple, solved the puzzles within, and awoken the Prophet of Chaos.

THE PROPHET RETURNS

The time resting served her well — once awakened, though weak, Nyx had completely synergised with the Carnasite. The original strength of the host and the arcane powers of Chaos fed into the maturation of the parasite, giving it strangely aware qualities. Curiously, it seems to have developed speech... using her brother’s voice. It carries a part of him too, and though she deeply regrets the circumstances that led to his death, she still bears the connection through his untimely gift.

Nyx now resides back at Fortune, having taken up the Assistant Leadership position she was offered by Motus before she disappeared.

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ertrunkenerwassergeist · 4 years

Text

A Ghost Story

It’s finished! I would be interested to hear what you think about it, anon who made the prompt :)

Here’s a Link to AO3.

It was a stupid bet Nyx had let himself be goaded into. Nyx was going to do it anyway and Libertus was going to make sure he didn't kill himself in the process. They were supposed to find a ghost. Well, something they did find. It wasn't a ghost, though.

Part of the Born Into the Wilds verse. Can be read as a stand-alone.

Obligatory list of words for the Galahdian language I keep inventing for some unholy reason:

unsanguikar = insult; lit.: unblooded person, meaning inexperienced and soft lormunos akastral = corrupted demon mahir = mother; woman who birthed me; affectionate form gisdrauht = storyteller Galahkar = person of Galahd gekkan = great bear like creature with antlers, native to Galahd fohrnfilkar = polite form of address between two Galahkari that don't know each other Ohlro ar fahl Eohsas = Eos' light be on you; a formal greeting

The wind howled along the canyon, it tugged at hair and clothes, and produced a moaning sound that spread goosebumps and a feeling of dread over all the teenagers assembled at the edge. Most of them shifted nervously from one foot to the other as they stared at the wooden pole wrapped in colourful ropes, that marked the beginning of the trail. Once upon a time those ropes would have meant something, but after decades of negligence the meanings had become illegible, the colour nearly bleached out all the way.

Philotes Altius, the oldest of the group at the age of 17, was flanked by two of her usual goons and sent a nasty grin towards Nyx and Libertus. Both of them stared back with equally determined gazes.

It was a stupid bet Nyx had let himself be goaded into.

“To prove that unsanguikar really deserves the venerated name of Ulric,” Philotes had said with an innocent expression on her face and a nasty look in her eyes.

Of course Nyx had had to agree.

And of course Libertus was right beside him. Even as the slightly older boy had tried to keep Nyx from actually doing it up until they had shown up at the edge of the canyon.

Nyx, with the single minded determination of a stubborn teenager, hadn't listened at all. In the 14 year old's mind this had to be done to defend the integrity of the Ulric name. May his ancestors help him, he would do this and laugh into Philotes' stupid face afterwards.

Whatever the task actually was.

He had his suspicions, thought, after she had told him to meet her at the beginning of the Old Apothecary's Trail.

“You actually came,” crowed Philotes and somehow managed to sound disturbingly pleased and utterly disappointed at the same time. “It would have been fun to tell the others you ran away like a scared little spiracorn foal. No matter. I trust you heard the recent stories about this trail?”

Nyx narrowed his eyes at the condescending tone. “What does a ghost story have to do with this?” he demanded.

Philotes laughed. It wasn't a very nice laugh. In Nyx' opinion it sounded kind of like the call of a garula calf. Not that he would actually tell her that. Philotes wasn't only older than him, but also a better fighter. For now.

“Just about everything, Ulric,” she goaded and threw her hair back, bringing attention to her collection of meticulously done braids and beads. “You are to climb down the Old Apothecary's Trail and bring me evidence of the ghost who has made their nest down there. If I were you, I would be very careful while you do so. Rumour has it, it's actually a lormunos akastral.”

“You're lying,” growled Libertus.

His voice had just started to fond it's deeper octaves and he could make it quite menacing, if he so desired. This time, however, the effect was diminished by the chalky whiteness of his face.

Philotes cast both of them another nasty smile. “Then. Prove. It.”

Nyx practically growled as he dragged Libertus over towards the wooden pole.

This close to the edge the wind was even stronger, like cold fingers dragging across skin trying to pull the unwary down over the edge. Nyx swallowed, suddenly growing very nervous at the idea of climbing down a path that hadn't been used in near a century because the Patientia had found a faster and safer one down the canyon, where apparently some very rare herbs grew. Or something. Nyx wasn't that interested in medicine.

His sweaty hands found the thick rope used to guide people safely down and tugged at it. He grimaced at the ominous creaking with which the wooden pole protested. Using the ancient rope was too dangerous. Which left practically free climbing their way down. Nyx didn't really have a problem with that per se. He was good at climbing. His mahir and sister would probably have to say a thing or two about this, though. But he wasn't really worried about that either.

What he worried about was Libertus. His hunting-brother wasn't exactly a climber to put it mildly.

Worried, he dared to cast a glance at his hunting-brother out of the corner of his eyes. Libertus had gone very pale, but his eyes held a fiery determination to see this through and Nyx knew that any argument to convince him otherwise would be wasted breath.

“What are you waiting for? Do you need someone to hold your hand?”

The young Ulric hated Philotes Altius with a passion. She was quite the talented huntress and a powerful and cunning fighter. It made her able to get away with quite a few things others wouldn't and she knew it. She was loud and brash, especially when her goons were with her, and often liked to establish her dominance with kicking around those younger than her.

There was one thing, however. One weakness Nyx hadn't let himself dare to exploit until now, because he may be reckless and he may not have what amounted to normal self-preservation, but he wasn't stupid and he knew his own limits. Well, he knew Libertus would disagree on that one.

The thing was, Philotes Altius was absolute sahagin shit at her Clan's traditional speciality of being doctors and healers. And she hated it. It was the one thing she couldn't hold over the other teenagers heads to inflate her own ego further. The last time someone had dared to bring it up she had beaten the poor girl black and blue in a near senseless rage.

Nyx didn't give her the satisfaction of turning around. Instead he exchanged one last look with Libertus, to check if the other boy really wanted to do this.

Then he carefully slid over the edge of the canyon and onto a steep and worn down flight of stairs. They were slippery and narrow. Slowly he inched his way further down to give Libertus enough space to follow him, suddenly glad for the strong winds that pressed him against the rough stone at his back. He didn't dare to reach for the thick rope again in fear it would snap and cause him to fall to his death.

Small pebbles clattered down in front of him as he followed the stairs, Libertus a calming presence at his back. Their sound was swallowed by he moaning winds that ripped each breath from his mouth with greedy fingers.

The steps didn't go far before Nyx had to carefully turn around to face the rocky wall, his heart in his throat and adrenaline pumping through his veins, making the palms of his hands sweaty and slippery. With great care he searched for handholds since the ledge beneath his feet was barely wide enough to walk on and full of fallen rocks and debris. He could very easily trip and fall.

Within minutes his tunic was soaked through with sweat, leaching away his warmth as the wind battered at his back.

A shadow enveloped him, cooling the air around him even more. He shivered. When he had gathered his nerves enough to look up his saw the edge maybe ten metres above his head and thick, heavy clouds covering the formerly clear sky.

Something like dread pooled in his gut, but Nyx couldn't quite tell why. Not far above him Libertus said something, clearly yelling against the noise the wind made. Nyx couldn't understand a word anyway.

So he continued to climb his way down.

If he were honest, Nyx didn't know if he believed the story of a lormunos akastral having its nest here. Demons were rare in Galahd, and even rarer were corrupted ones. They were said to be souls of children that had followed a white crow and had died for it, cursed to never find their way beyond the gate where their ancestors dwelt. It was doubly worse if the child hadn't had a clan name. The gisdrauhti said those souls would grow twisted with time, if they weren't pacified, cleansed and guided beyond the gate. That they would peel the skin of their victims off, while they were still alive, and try to masquerade as them. It was a story told to children to keep them from going outside when they shouldn't. And now there was a story of a lormunos akastral to keep people from climbing down this obviously unsafe trail.

Light was leached further out of the late autumn afternoon as more and more clouds pressed in, turning the sky into a dark grey, roiling mass that every Galahkar dreaded.

The first autumn storm of the season was near.

Nyx fought the growing panic down. He knew he couldn't climb back up. Libertus was a slow climber and would surely slip and fall, should he try to hurry. Also, they were nearly halfway down the canyon at this point. Even if Nyx had been alone, he wouldn't have made it back up in time to take cover from the storm and keep out the voice riding the waves and the winds that came with it. The only way to survive this now was to climb further down and find a place they could hole up in.

From one moment to the other he stopped in the middle of crouching down on a small plateau barely big enough for two fully grown men to sit on. Had there been movement? A shadow to his left that wasn't his own? Cold wind, smelling strongly of salt and dust, blew his mostly lose hair into his eyes and obscured his vision. He whipped it out of his face with an angry motion. The shadow was gone. Had he imagined it?

With a tired grunt Libertus plopped onto the ground next to him and groaned. Strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and his knuckles were as scraped and bloody as Nyx' own.

“The next time you accept a shit bet like this, please make sure it's nowhere near the autumn storm season,” groaned Libertus with a tired sort of resignation that made him sound decades older than he actually was.

Nyx let his eyes wander over the stone wall in search for a hideout they could use with increasing desperation. He couldn't find a single one and the ground was still far below them.

“Well,” he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice, “at last it hasn't started to rain yet.”

And as if all the spirits of Galahd had conspired against him, thunder rumbled deafening through the air and a cold drop of rain hit his nose.

“Way to jinx it, Nyx. If we survive this mess, remind me to slowly murder you,” grumbled Libertus, his own voice pressed in fear.

Shit.

They were going to die here. Because he hadn't been able to let go of his stupid pride. Why had he even listened to someone like Philotes? The Altius Clan was no ally of the Ulric Clan. He wanted so badly to turn back time to this morning and hit himself over the head.

A sudden warmth pressed into his right side as more drops started to fall in increasing speed and the wind gained a whispery quality to it that made his teeth ache. It was Libertus, a grim but accepting look in his eyes, even as his body trembled in a physical show of Nyx' own desperation.

It was so unfair, he wanted to scream.

Thunder rolled and a flash of lighting made Libertus jump in sudden agitation.

“A face!” he cried, a shrill quality to his voice. “I saw a face! Right there!”

Nyx followed his stretched out hand pointing to his left. He squinted through the rain and the growing darkness and couldn't see anything. He opened his mouth to tell his hunting-brother just that, when lightning flashed again and he saw it.

A hunched over silhouette at the edge of the plateau they sat on. Nyx froze.

Was this the lormunos akastral? Had that story been right all along?

The silhouette moved, slowly, hesitantly inching closer to them. Now Nyx could see that most of its hunched over bulk came from a raggedy cloak made nearly entirely out of fur. A hood was drawn deep into its face. He could see its mouth moving, but wasn't able to hear anything over the clamour of the storm.

It waved and pointed to its side, down and to the left. Neither Nyx nor Libertus moved and with an impatient tilt to its head it repeated the motion.

Nyx dared to glance at Libertus. His hunting-brother sat frozen in place, pressed into the stone behind him as if he wanted it to swallow him. Nyx shifted his weight, and as if Libertus' head was screwed onto his neck he turned to look at him.

He looked like he had seen a ghost. Which... well.

A pebble hit him against a leg and drew his attention back towards the silhouette. It motioned again, the gesture pointed and sharp and insistent.

The he heard it. Or he thought he did. A moaning cry on the wind and at once his goosebumps became twice as bad. At once he was on his feet and took a step towards the silhouette. Better to try his luck with the potential demon than with the voice-who-was-many-and-one. Then at least his own stupidity would kill him instead of something he had no influence over whatsoever.

Next to him Libertus twitched violently. But he followed, like the unendingly loyal companion he was.

The silhouette backed away as they came closer and started to climb. It nearly vanished into the falling rain and the shadows. Pale and thin hands and forearms nearly seemed to glow and were the only sign that it was still there.

They followed as best as they could. Which wasn't easy. More than once Nyx nearly slipped on the wet rock and fell. It must be so much worse for Libertus. Luckily it wasn't too long until they arrived at the entrance of a surprisingly deep cave.

For a heart stopping moment Nyx had felt the panic clawing at his insides when the silhouette had suddenly vanished, only for a thin arm to reappear from a gap in the stone, Nyx would have never thought would be big enough for them to climb into.

Inside it was a bit warmer and blessedly dry. Libertus and himself were soaked down to their bones at this point.

It was dark, but from further in they could see the telltale flickering of a burning fire. Cautiously they looked at each other and made their way further in.

The silhouette – person – thing was crouched low by the fire, still wrapped in the soaking wet cloak that turned out to be made out of gekkan fur. Small, bony hands threw another log into the clumsily improvised hearth. It became increasingly clear to Nyx that this in front of him wasn't a lormunos akastral. There were no twisted limbs, no naked, bleeding flesh and no smell of old and rancid blood. Only the stink of musty wet fur, cooked food and sweaty human.

He stepped closer to the fire, its warmth a blessed caress on his freezing skin, from where he had stopped. Not quite sure what to do, he simply decided to introduce himself.

“Thank you for saving us, fohrnfilkar. My name is Nyx of Clan Ulric and with me is my brother-in-hunting Libertus of Clan Ostium. Ohlro ar fahl Eohsas.“

All movement within the gekkan fur cloak stills for a heartbeat. An angry growl reverberated within the cave and suddenly Nyx lay on the ground, his face full of a furious young girl. The hood had fallen away when she had tackled him, bringing to light long unkempt brown hair, a thin and pale face caked with dirt and eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. She couldn't have been older than ten or eleven.

“You fucking idiots!” she practically screamed as Libertus grabbed her by the cloak and dragged her off him. “Who would be so dumb to go out climbing when it's been clear for days that a storm is coming? Huh?! Because of you dipshits I couldn't finish my preparations in time and now we're all going to die! Why did I even help you? Now we're going to hear it!”

Slightly dizzy in surprise and not really comprehending what the girl was saying, Nyx sat up and watched as Libertus wrestled her onto the ground, his larger frame helping him tremendously. With a last scream full of undirected rage and frustration and fear, she finally stopped struggling. She lay there, forehead pressed to the ground and shivering.

Nyx and Libertus shared a helpless look. Neither of them had any idea what to do with the little slip of a girl.

“Hey,” Libertus said at last, his tone soft and soothing. The girl didn't react, but he continued to speak anyway. “If I let you go, will you please not attack us again? We don't want to harm you.”

For a moment she didn't say anything. Then, as they thought she would just ignore them and they wondered what they should do now, she muttered something intelligible into the ground.

“What?” asked Libertus.

She wiggled a bit to move her head to the side, glaring at Nyx with fiery brown eyes. “I said fine!”

Libertus let her go and she scuttled away from him until the fire was between them. She tugged the soggy cloak tighter around her and eyed them as if they were dangerous animals. Nyx thought she might be kind of pretty beneath all the grime and dirt with a thin face and strong features. Not as pretty as his sister, though.

Oh damn, his sister. She must be worried sick by now. His mahir, too. She had told him to be back by late afternoon and he now wondered if she had known that the storm would be coming.

To ignore the sinking feeling in his gut, he took a closer look around the cave. It was a natural one with naked walls and a relatively smooth floor. In one corner, close to the fire, was a pile of old blankets and badly tanned furs, a heap of clothes piled next to it, and in another were stacks of pots his mahir would have called a travesty to every smith out there, they were that banged up. There were water buckets, some empty, some not, and a small cache of food. It wasn't exactly homey, but clearly lived in.

“May we sit?” he asked and motioned towards the fire.

The girl stared at them for a bit longer, blinking not once, before she nodded and curled up a bit more. She kept still and pressed her hands over her ears.

Nyx and Libertus sat down across from her on the naked stone floor as close to the fire as they could to try and get warm. The rainwater was freezing cold and stuck his clothes uncomfortably to his skin. He knew he should take them off to prevent a cold or something worse, but he didn't want to scare the girl even more, and so he kept quiet and still, Libertus pressed close to preserve warmth.

They could still hear the storm moaning outside. Nyx stared into the flickering fire and listened to the howling of the wind, to the falling rain, to the rolling thunder and to the flashes of lighting. It had a cadence, he thought, rising and falling like...

Like a dirge or a lament.

Fire flickered and crackled and suddenly Nyx stood on a shore. Waves rolled onto the rough sand beneath his naked feet with a crushing force and on the horizon he could see an armada of ships with black sails in front of a backdrop of dark storm clouds. He had no idea what he was doing. The only thing he knew was the urge to step into the waves of the sea, to give himself over to the sea serpents, so that he may save those dear to him. He would call a storm. A storm that would swallow the death bringing ships of the Conqueror King, the Death Dealer. He would-

A sharp cry startled him awake. Had than been a dream? He blinked drowsily and looked around only to see Libertus on his feet next to him, a blank look on his face and the girl in front of him. She had gone deathly pale beneath the dirt on her skin and she stood there as if to block his path, her hands still pressed over her ears. She trembled like a leaf.

Nyx stumbled onto his feet. He was disoriented and had no idea what was going on, but he knew that he couldn't let his hunting-brother walk out of this cave.

“Libs!”

He grasped him by his still wet collar and jerked him back. Nyx may be smaller and slighter than his best friend, but he was still the overall better fighter. He managed to wrestle him onto the ground with only a minor struggle and slapped him right in the face.

His head jerked to the side with a groan. Libertus blinked, dull eyes clearing to their usual clear blue.

“Nyx, what the fuck? Did you just hit me?”

Nyx let out a relieved breath that was dangerously close to a sob and slumped down, still sitting on Libertus' ribcage.

“Yes. Yes I did, you idiot. You were just about to join the other storm-lost.”

It seemed to take a few moments for the words to register.

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. Now are you going to wander off again, or can I let you up?”

“No, I think I'm good. Get the fuck off me before you start to cry on me. I'm already wet enough as is.”

With a wet laugh Nyx got off and stood up. His eyes were burning with unshed tears. He turned around to the girl who still stood rooted to the place.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked softly, not daring to come closer in fear of scaring her further.

She took large, gulping breaths as if to keep from hyperventilating and still shivered. But here eyes were clear and she was looking at him. She clearly hadn't heard what he had said, but seemed to guess its meaning, because she slowly nodded and made her way back to her side of the fire.

It was silent again. And that was dangerous.

So Nyx did the only thing he could think of to fill the silence and ward the voice on the storm away.

He told a story.

Come, come closer to the fire and let me tell you a story. Listen well for this is a story told to me by my mother and father, who were told by their mother and father back until the Clans were at variance and the sea untamed.

Once there lived a man named Aiolos Ostium, the Restless, he-who-followed-the-wind and Lover of Freedom. He, who called the whole world home. Aiolos Ostium wandered the land that had been named Galahd barely a generation past, and discovered many of its wonders.

But that is not the story I'm about to tell you. Instead I will tell you the story of how he was the first to forge an alliance that went deeper than the ties of blood. It is a brotherhood forged in trust and sacrifice. Life and death. As steadfast as the light that has been gifted to us.

Aiolos Ostium wandered Galahd, guided people to streams he discovered, to fields and herds of animals. Aiolos Ostium wandered, because the restlessness in his soul couldn't be quenched. The Restless people started to call him, for he never stayed anywhere for longer than he had to. Always wandering, always with his eyes turned towards the horizon with a longing people couldn't understand.

Hadn't they wandered enough, those who still remembered the Great Wandering wondered amidst themselves. Hadn't they just found a place they could call home? Where they could rest and grow?

Nothing could tie Aiolos' soul down and his restlessness grew.

Until one day he asked Daidalos Bellum to build him a ship he could steer on his own and would carry him over the sea. At first Daidalos declined, for he had been a child when our people had first come upon the islands that had welcomed us, and could still remember the hardships that had been endured before. The hunting and killing of our people. The hunger and the sickness. Even in his old age he could not understand how a person would ever want to leave again.

It was inconceivable.

But Aiolos persisted. Everyday he came and asked for a ship and everyday he received the same answer.

'No.'

But still he came and when one day he didn't, Daidalos was glad. However, when he didn't come the next day or the day after that, Daidalos Bellum grew worried. In a strange way that restless young man had grown on him.

'One more day', he swore to himself. 'I will wait one more day and should he not come, I will search for him.'

Morning came and Aiolos again wasn't on his doorstep as the first light climbed over the horizon. So he set out in search of the stubborn young man who loved freedom more than anything. To his surprise he found him not far away on a cliff staring longingly towards the horizon where the sky met the sea in a haze of blue.

The sight moved Daidalos so deeply that he agreed to build a ship that would carry Aiolos wherever he desired.

And so it was done.

Aiolos Ostium, the Restless and Lover of Freedom, set out on a calm summer morning to follow the wind that had been singing to him of all the wonders he had yet to see.

For three days and nights he was at sea. He spoke to the sea serpents who named him Companion of the Wind, and marvelled at their scales as they glowed in the night.

On the fourth day he saw land, and with joy in his heart he bid his new friends farewell and went ashore. He danced over the pale sands with the wind as his partner until he lay between tall stalks of grass, breathless and happier than he could ever remember being.

For days and days he wandered, marvelling at each new bird, new animal and new plant he saw. Each night he would draw the glyphs of protection and warding to keep the daemons away and each night he would sleep unmolested.

It was on his thirteenth day in Cleigne, on the continent that would be called Lucis not long from now, that he came upon the first settlement. Aiolos had been wandering steadily closer to the Rock of Ravathog. It spewed fire and smoke in a fury that had yet to diminish. It's extensions glowed in an unholy light.

The settlement was of a people who clung to their worship of the Burner, the Fickle and Gift-Giver. They clung to his fires with the desperation of a drowning man. They prayed to him, burned for him, threw themselves at the feet of his smouldering grave and still he ignored them.

But they were not willing to give up so easily, for they had found new victims to sacrifice in the name of their God. A God who had taken everything from them when he had drowned Solheim in his flames and fury. Goaded as though he may have been by the one whose name I will not speak here.

These people, desperate and selfish, had found a family wandering, fleeing from pursuers they would not name. A family with braids and beads in their hair, for you see, not all of us had dared to journey across the wild waters. Not all of us had dared to leave the lands that had once been our homes.

And so this family had stayed, had refused the call, and continued their wandering. Until they had come upon a settlement at the foot of Rock Ravathog. A father, a mother and three children they were. Two girls and a boy, all beneath the age of twelve.

Aiolos Ostium saw what was to befall the children, a pyre stacked high at the centre of the town. Now he knew why the wind had called to him and he thanked it as he grimly waited until midday in his hiding place. Remember, midday was the time when we used to stay inside, not daring to sully the sun with our presence. But such things are long past and so Aiolos snuck into the town and towards the cage the children were kept in.

It was the boy who saw him first, for he had the sharpest eyes of all of the children. He saw the braids and beads in the hair of the man who killed their jailer and kept quiet. He watched as he fell towards the floor, dead, and bid his sisters to be silent.

They were silent as their cage was opened, they were silent as they snuck out of the settlement full of desperate and manic souls and they were silent as they walked until night fell.

It was only then that Aiolos Ostium asked for their names and gave his in return. It was only then, when a fire burned and the wards were drawn, that he asked what had happened as they shared what food and water the Restless and Companion of the Wind still had.

It was the oldest, one of the girls, who spoke, for of the three, it was her words came the easiest to: 'Thank you, Great Wanderer, for our rescue. My name is Euros, my brother is named Notos and my sister Zephyra. We are what is left of Clan Ulric in this land.'

And she told him of the hardships they had had to endure. Of how their parents had decided to try and brave the sea regardless of the fear their own parents had instilled in them. How they had come upon a settlement that had offered help only for them to slit their parents' throats.

Aiolos listened in grave silence and, after Euros had finished her tale, spoke a prayer for the souls that would never see the wild splendour of Galahd. Then he told them of the sea and how he had met the sea serpents. He told them of the vast jungles and deep canyons, of wild rivers and steep cliffs. He told them of the words the wind had whispered to him and how they had brought him to the siblings.

It was with the fire as his witness that he named all three his children. His to nourish and his to protect.

Throughout the whole journey back towards Galahd he told them about their new home and they listened in rapt attention, for they were Ulrics and the wildness is in their blood.

And that is the story of how the Ostium and the Ulric were bound together by the spirits, how a man followed the wind and finally found piece within himself.

Nyx fell silent and swallowed. His throat was dry as dust.

Without saying a word the girl stood up and went towards one of the buckets full of water. She had stopped to cover her ears at the beginning of his story and listened in rapt attention. Her eyes had sparkled with a quiet joy that had given him the confidence to keep going.

She came back with a wooden cup of water and put it down just within reach of his arms before she scampered off to her place again. He smiled at her in thanks and emptied half of it in one gulp.

“You forgot the correct ending,” Libertus was helpful to comment, but there was no heat behind it, only a quiet thankfulness.

“Oh shut up,” Nyx grouched playfully. “You're not able to tell it any better than I do.”

“I so do.” Libertus turned towards the girl. “The right ending is that they kept wandering the shores for nearly a year because the boat Aiolos had come in was too small for all four of them. He didn't have any mainlander money to buy one and neither did a ship set course towards Galahd. Back then the Lucians thought it was cursed or something, you know? In some way they still do. Anyway, Aiolos and the Ulric children had to be careful, because, while most Galahkari had left at that point, many of the older Lucians still knew what our braids meant. They would have killed all four of them. In the end, they found a boat in what's now called Cape Caem and sailed all the way back to Galahd.”

“And that's how the Ulrics came to Galahd?” asked the girl.

It was the first time she had spoken towards them in a normal tone. It felt a bit like a victory for Nyx.

“Yes,” he jumped to say. “Us Ulrics are so special we were fashionably late.”

He grinned, wide and reckless. The girl giggled.

Another victory for team Ostium-Ulric, Nyx thought in satisfaction.

There were a few beats of nervous silence in which the girl busied herself with feeding the fire new wood, before she settled again. Before Libertus could open his mouth to tell a story of his own, she drew a deep breath. Her voice was light and steady as she spoke. And other than Nyx, she didn't stumble once over the words.

“Come, come closer to the fire and let me tell you a story. Listen well for this is a story told to me by those that came before me back until the first people stepped foot on these islands and the world was young. Come and listen closely as I tell you of the day magic died.”

Around and around it went. One story after the other while the voice-who-was-many-and-one howled and moaned on the storm and the waves. None of them had any idea how much time had passed when the winds beating against the canyon quieted, but still they did not dare stop in fear that it was only a brief lull.

They kept telling the stories of their people, making parts up they had forgotten as they went along, until they fell into an exhausted sleep. They slept in a tangle of limbs beneath a still damp gekkan fur cloak to keep warm and no strange dreams of black sails and stormy shores plagued them.

Nyx jerked awake with a start. For a second he didn't know where he was as he stared into the darkness surrounding him. He felt warm. Two bodies pressed against his as they lay beneath a smelly fur cloak.

The bet. The canyon. The storm. The girl.

They had survived an autumn storm in a cave with nothing but stories to distract them. Their ancestors must have smiled upon them. The fire had gone out while they had slept and he lay there and wondered what had woken him. He still felt tired, his limbs were sore from climbing halfway down the canyon and his throat felt dry and like something had died in it from all the talking. He was hungry.

“Fuck,” he cursed loudly and sat up.

The other two grumbled in dissatisfaction at the method used to wake them up.

“What the fuck, Nyx? Five more minutes, then we can get back out hunting,” Libertus grumbled, only half his words intelligible.

“Wake up, Libs! We need to go home. Our parents will be worried sick.”

“Wha'?”

Nyx could barely make out Libertus' form in that sliver of light that made its way in from the entrance of the cave. He chose to do the sensible thing in this situation: he kicked his hunting-brother in the shin.

Cursing up a storm, Libertus finally sat up.

“Shit. You're right,” he said as soon as he was awake enough to remember what had happened. “How long have we been here for?”

Nyx had no idea.

“The sun is out,” said the girl from next to them. “Do you really need to go?”

“Yeah,” Nyx mumbled with a grimace.

He liked her and she was barely older than his own sister. Where were her parents? Or her guardians? Everybody had at least some family to raise them. He didn't dare ask, however.

“You could come with us, you know. We survived together what not many people do outside their homes. You're our storm-sister now,” stated Libertus with a gravitas that was utterly ridiculous on him.

The girl giggled. It was a nice sound.

“Storm-sister,” she repeated, something wistful in her voice. “You don't even know my name and you want to be my brothers?”

“Well, what's your name then?” asked Libertus with all the tact he possessed. Which was to say: none.

A cool gust of air traveled over Nyx' skin as the girl stood up. Her silhouette stood in front of them, straight backed and hands on slight hips.

“My name is Crowe. Crowe no name.”

The last part she said like a challenge, daring them to say something about it. Wisely Nyx chose to keep his moth shut. He had never met a nameless person in his life before. It stumped him quite a bit, if he were honest with himself, and so he did with it like he did with everything he didn't know what to do with. He ignored it.

“Nice to meet you, Crowe. Can we go now. Please?”

For the longest time there was no answer. Nyx was starting to get worried when he heard a quiet sob.

“Crowe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Sh-shut up and let's go,” she said, something unbelievably vulnerable in her voice, and marched out of the cave.

Next to him Libertus grumbled something that had to do with “sister” and “idiot siblings” before he, too, stood up and followed Crowe out of the cave.

They waited for Nyx by the entrance. Libertus with an expression on his face that clearly said he would soon resort to murder for something to eat, and Crowe with suspiciously teary eyes and a stubborn set to her jaw that dared the two boys to say anything.

The wind was cold and clean and the sun shone in a blinding brightness as they made their way up the side of the canyon with Crowe as their guide.

Suddenly Nyx had to laugh. He looked up to where his new storm-sister was. She had stopped in her ascent to look back at him with curiosity.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked.

“I won the bet,” he called back, a huge grin on his face.

Ha! Take that, Philotes Altius! This would show her to pick on him or Libertus again. He laughed a second time.

“Stop with your shitty bet, Nyx and continue climbing! I want a hot shower and some breakfast, and if I have to gag you and drag you up this canyon to get both, so be it!”

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