Wolf Kindred

Njall had never felt comfortable in the pinewood of the Blackmore clan's lands. The trees here seemed to grow beyond the rules of the ground, reaching out to the sky mother who blanketed the air above. The environment gave him a sense of unease that rarely ceased, even though he'd been born here, had grown up here - became an apprentice under their shadowy canopy here.

Now, on the breaking of the sunrise on his last day of training, he kept his fists tightly bound to their bones, his eyes fighting to stay grounded as the pinewood towered overhead.

"Njall!" His mentor shouted, giving him an exasperated expression through heavy set eyes. "You must pay attention and take this with the utmost seriousness."

His mentor's name was Ulfhild, a fitting name for the fearsome warrioress who had taught him all there was to know about being a warrior.

"Yes, Ulfhild. Sorry," Njall said, relaxing his hands and stuffing them into his fur coat.

A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "This ritual is more important than any other in our clan, boy." Ulfhild's tone was strict, stern - betraying nothing other than truth. "For you this is a rite of passage, but for the Blackmores it is a show of gratitude for a spirit who has been our patron for countless generations."

Njall winced, but nodded in recognition of his mentor's words. "I understand, Ulfhild." He managed to catch a wry smile on her lips before she turned away from him, easing the sting of her words.

Deeper Ulfhild led him into the forest until the trees pushed in on all sides and the breaks in the canopy became mere cracks. Njall was even more on edge now. He'd never been this far from home, even though they were still on clan territory.

Soon they were upon the altar that was to be used for the ceremony. It was a rather large slab of light grey stone sitting atop a group of tilted boulders used as the slab's legs. Around it clansmen had left gifts of animal bones, feather bundles, melted wax candles, and pelts of various sizes and quality.

No bones or pelts of wolves were included.

"Alright, Njall." Ulfhild kneeled, slipping off the pack she'd been carrying on her shoulders. From inside she took out a large, beautiful black coat that had its own sheen in the dim light of the forest.

Njall kneeled before the altar as well, eyeing the pelt in his mentor's hands with awe. "Wow, that's a fine fur."

Ulfhild held out the pelt in front of her, a pleased smile crinkling her features. "It is, isn't it? Got it off of one of the hunters who said he helped someone at the market hunt down their dog who had gone rabid. A husky of this size is sure to please Anu."

Njall frowned. "She likes dog pelts? Wouldn't that be too close to a wolf?"

Ulfhild laughed as she reverently stood and laid the large pelt on the altar, smoothing it over with her hands. "Dog pelts are her favorite. You must remember that Anu is a spirit of the wild whose children are the wolves. She despises domestication of her kin."

"Oh," Njall murmured thoughtfully. He sat back on his heels then as his mentor continued to prep the altar, whispering words beneath her breath as her braids of white and grey swayed with her movements.

Sweat began to pool at Njall's temple as the forest around them seem to dim further into a twilight at Ulfhild's words - a mending of day and night into an air of uncertainty and anticipation.

The air became denser, and every pull into Njall's lungs felt like he was taking in water. The moisture coalesced into an independent fog that pulled and swayed into a thick shape around the altar.

He was not prepared for the being that formed before them.

Anu took on the form of a towering wolf whose black fur ended in wisps of wavering pale fog and smoke. Her forelegs encircled the altar, large paws resting on either side in a relaxed pose of indifference. The shadows of the forest obscured her haunches, making her appear half-formed - or perhaps her form was simply too massive to be conjured in its totality.

A pair of eyes formed, and then another, and another. Multiple eyes of various sizes and colors pierced through the gloam until there were eight in total in her skull, all gazing down at the two very small humans before her.

Ulfhild stepped down from the altar and bowed, arms outstretched. "Greetings, Anu: spirit of the untamed wilds, giver of death and renewal, mother of wolves and patron of the Blackmore clan."

Anu cocked her head, her pupils narrowing.

Ulfhild side-eyed her apprentice until he noticed and jerked in place, copying her pose and bowing before Anu.

"I see your pups are as unruly as ever." The low, earthly growl from Anu metamorphosed into understandable language that rumbled in the depths of Njall's ears.

Ulfhild rose from her bow, a small smile curling her lips. "I hope the offering we have brought will satisfy you, great spirit."

Anu sniffed, her attention lowering to the altar where the black pelt had been laid. Horrifyingly, Njall realized she kept one of her eight eyes pinned on him while the other seven observed the offering.

"While my memories of the how and why of this relationship between us formed," Anu began, her lips pulling back ever so slightly to reveal her canines in a curiously warm smile, "it pleases me so that your kind continue this tradition. It...relieves the fog of my purpose."

Njall had only heard whispers of Anu's and other greater spirits memory loss over the centuries. It seemed for them all, they could only remember back so far until it became as if they didn't have a past to begin with.

Ulfhild gave another shallow bow and looked to Njall, giving him a small, encouraging smile. "This is a great honor, Njall, but do not be alarmed, lad. As our patron, she has offered to protect us and to give us strength in battle."

She then motioned for the boy to step up to the altar. "Go on. Accept her blessing on behalf of the Blackmore clan."

Njall wanted to turn and run with the spirit's eye still on him, but he swallowed down his fear and stood up. Slowly, he climbed the altar until Anu's forelegs encircled him, and the offering was beneath his gaze.

Anu's giant head lowered until Njall's vision was swallowed up by her multiple eyes. This close he could see the different colors of her irises ranging from a haunting yellow to a piercing blue.

The she-wolf nuzzled the black pelt, keeping the same eye on Njall as she did so. "You are a young pup indeed. You follow your mentors direction well, however." Another eye slid behind him to Ulfhild. "So I can assume it was not you who chose this gift."

Njall's body trembled. "No, it was not, great spirit," he said, hoping his voice at least was steady.

"Then, for this fine offering, a fine blessing should be returned. Don't you agree, pup?"

Confusion kept Njall from turning his head to look at his mentor. Was Anu testing him? "We...we will accept any blessing you wish to bestow."

There was a heartbeat of silence where even the forest seemed to hold its breath. So still was the world for that moment that Njall felt like time itself had stopped, if it were possible.

Then, Anu, the mighty patron of the Blackmore clan, lunged forward.

Njall shouted and ducked, cowering on the altar, shutting his eyes as he waited for those jaws to close around him, as surely that is what she was aiming to do.

Instead, a horrendous choking sound echoed in the quiet forest. Turning, still on his wobbling knees, Njall saw his mentor bent backwards over her spine, arms spread wide as her skin turned blue, her eyes bulged, and her breath was stolen from her.

Just above the surface of her skin, a strange fog appeared, more like smoke than mist. Then, as if pulled upon a raging current, it raced upwards into the awaiting open jaws of Anu.

Ulfhild collapsed onto the pine needle littered ground, as still as a corpse.

Anu snapped her jaws shut, licking her lips, satisfied with her meal. She then slowly returned to her sitting position before the altar, her eight eyes glowing brightly with a rage that boiled the very air around them.

"Young pup, this black pelt belongs to one of my children," the great spirit growled. "Whether or not you and your mentor were aware of its origin, it is a great offense to me and this forest to present me with such an offering."

Horror washed over Njall, and all efforts to hide his fear fully collapsed if they hadn't already. The pelt offered hadn't been some tame husky. It had been a wolf.

"I-I'm so sorry, great and mighty Anu," he said, holding back his tears of shock as he stared and stared at his mentor's lifeless body.

"Never mistake a black pelt such as this for anything other than one of my own. Do you understand?" Her voice was steady, but it roiled with barely restrained fury.

Njall nodded, unable to raise his eyes to the mother of wolves. "Yes-yes, oh...oh great-oh great..."

With shocking gentleness, Anu cautiously lowered her head and pressed her soft, semi-corporeal muzzle to his shoulder. Shock and fear prevented Njall from moving a muscle.

"Steady yourself, young pup. I have put you through enough," she said, the anger gone from her growl. "Return to your clan now with this pelt, and pass along this lesson. Leave Ulfhild's body here. My kindred will take care of it."

Njall's tears came quicker now. He found himself leaning on the great wolf's offered comfort, despite the death she had dealt before him.

"I-I don't know how to get back," he said, completely and utterly at her mercy.

Anu pulled back, all eight eyes trained on him now. All traces of her ire were gone. If Njall didn't know better, her expression almost looked sympathetic.

"My kindred will lead you home, little one. After all, this transgression does not mean I will abandon one of my own."

Njall couldn't help himself as he asked, "one...one of your own? If you see us as your kin...why would you kill Ulfhild?"

Anu's muzzle pulled back to reveal her canines, and that fearsome rage peaked through her gentleness once more. "It is the same for my flesh and blood. If they were to take the lives of one of your clan mates, their soul too would be forfeit."

So that's what that smoke was? Nijall realized, shivers running down his back. Ulfhild's soul? Will she not be able to go into the realms of the afterlife?

But Njall knew he could not push the great spirit any longer, as around him appearing from the shadows, a pack of black wolves materialized. Just like Anu, they approached cautiously and gently pressed their muzzles to his hands in greeting, one by one.

Shaking, he picked up the black pelt - the wolf pelt - and turned and let the pack lead him away from Anu, the altar, and the body of Ulfhild, the warrioress who would have seen him made into her equal.

Now, he supposed, this rite of passage would not be witnessed by a clan mate, but by his wolf kindred; those black shadows of the forest who would walk beside him the rest of his days.

From then on, Njall would keep the black wolf pelt on his person, wearing it as a cloak on cold winter nights, carrying it into battles, and strung across his waist during every ceremony that celebrated the great wolf spirit, Anu.

A reminder of the gift mistakenly given, and the life purposefully taken.

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