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Saturday, 24 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Veronica de Poison


Hello, my name is Veronica and I'm going to tell you what happened a long time ago. It was under a full moon when I cast a magic spell on thousands. That is, I created the secret club of werewolf ladies. It was spun in the garden next to a pond, with a silver cobweb, silver bowl containing my own blood from my finger, and a pouch of dried leaves. I couldn't do this as a wolf, as I am a wolf. I had to become a human for this task. I did this on behalf of my ancestral father, the misunderstood Fenrir himself.
My family have a library in the tower. It is always cosy and warm in there and since childhood I've often gone in there to read books. There are many countless books on all of the shelves, most of which I haven't touched. I came across a few books on my family tree, on my family estate, land, then books on alchemy and witchcraft.
My parents didn't really want me in there but as I became adolescent, they believed it would help stimulate my education if I studied in the library. In a way it's true but I wanted to research the magic arts, and to play with the idea that I could be a sorceress.
I would not describe myself as this. I'm a gentlewoman by nature, with one hereditary form of magic that comes with no will or control: shapeshifting by the power of the full moon. I've been changing into a wolf since the age of twelve. My parents, my brother and cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents all have this. But my mother wanted me to find out a way to control this and stay in human form during the full moon. She was able to do this, because she understood how to make a strong brew with raw ingrediants. She wouldn't pass this knowledge onto me.
She said:
"Veronica, listen. I taught myself the art of controlling the inner wolf. You can teach yourself how to tame the coming of your inner wolf."
"How am I supposed to do that if you won't share your brew with me?" I asked.
"By spending time in the library reading, studying and listening."
I spent years reading the witch books and nothing helped.
So one day, I gave up the idea and let the full moon change me to a wolf each time.
Then I was becoming more fascinated by researching my ancestry. I located some royal families from legendary Ville d'Ys and Gevaudan. My ancestor of Gevaudan was the evil wolf beast who terrorised people. He met a sticky end but then, in the 18th Century, his grandson was rumoured to be another such wolf beast. When my ancestors became such monsters of Gervaudan, they resembled very large wolves with black fur and red eyes.
Fortunately, my relatives and I don't appear very large as that. We're the size of alsation dogs, and have been mistaken for those. Our eyes appear green and our fur is golden as a harvest moon. As wolves, we don't want to scare people. I refuse to even hunt animals like the poor rabbits that live in the parks. When I'm wolf, I like to run, sing, experience the wind, forest, trees, water and sky.
But when I was doing this research, I found myself looking at the references books and opened big posters and scrolls leading back to thousands of years. Then I found my ultimate ancestor:
Fenrir.
In this shock, I confided in my sweet mother, who said:
"Yes, you're a descendant of Fenrir the wolf god from your father's lineage."
My father was often a very strict man, he was far from being a monster or a beast. As a wolf, he commanded respect and we all followed him into the woods. He kept us in check. He was the alpha in the pack. Not just the family pack, mind you. The extended pack for werewolves in the town, villages and outskirts. In France, there are more packs but we don't interefere with them.
In my quest to understand how to control my inner wolf, I ended up studyong my family tree. Then I learned about all of the werewolf packs in France and other countries. I decided to read about these packs who seem adorable. Each pack has its own crest, but there are those in some countries that do not. They are either new or disbanded. But the older packs are symbolised.
My father is alpha werewolf of the Tourmaline Night pack. This pack is about three hundred years old and with a resting black silhouette wolf, encircled with white evening primrose flowers.
He was evasive about Fenrir when I spoke of it to him. Father was very strong and used to serve in the army when he was young. There is a glass wardrobe in his smoking room that displays his blue and white uniform. Now he is a businessman and industrialist, but our chalet is in the countryside, away from the factories, trains, automobiles and city.
I couldn't resist wanting to form my own pack, that wasn't a pack. I decided to call it Fenrir's Daughters, because it consisted of myself and female relations at the beginning. Afterall my ancestor was the powerful wolf god. I wanted to expand the club, and include women and girl werewolves from the Tourmaline Night pack as well. That is so we can exchange ideas, cooking tips, wisdom and stories, and to help eachother. Some of the women of my father's pack were escaping domestic violence and I wanted my club to be a place they can also seek help. With my club, I was able to assist women and children of werewolf families in poverty.
I and my family wanted to expand Fenrir's Daughters membership to other packs, and wider France, then outside. Now it is worldwide and I feel proud of being a forum where female werewolves can come and chat with us.
From this, I was able to meet women werewolves from all over the world and listen to them. I discovered how to control the shapeshifting just simply by making friends with these wonderful wolf women. My brother and father were so impressed by the sheer energy and power I invest in the club that I permitted a secondary club for the men. It's called "Fenrir's Sons" and my brother is in charge of that one.

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
 

Friday, 16 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Pearl Chono (Part 3: Pearl Sword)

The moon glared through the clouds, as sword slashed at armour. By midnight, the moon has vanished behind thick clouds of ash and smoke but there was a lingering stench of blood.
Cold white charred remains of the wooden huts like powder dried her sword. All around were the bodies of dead warriors. She was only defending herself.
Pearl climbed the steep hill, to find the sword that belonged to her mother. It had broke in an earlier battle. Now she used her own, made by a former lover who made weapons. It was just for her, and out of love, he welded an innocent gemstone from the Tenggis Sea into the hilt.
Everything she owned was broken except for the sweet loving pearl sword. Pearl buried her mother's sword quickly under the soil. Her mother was named Song. The pearl sword was often worn at her bloodied leather belt.
A warrior woman of the forest, trained by masters of the broadsword in the hills, Pearl was the survivor of plague infested towns and villages that she'd lived in for all her thirtyone years. As a teenager, her adoptive family, all her friends and neighbours were killed by plague. Plague rodents poisoned the streams and crops. There were no remaining villagers or townspeople left. She journeyed South and came to Lake Bajkal where she encountered the warriors and swordsmen, who helped her. They later perished of the plague and she was unable to stay there amongst all of the dead. She chose to flee Southwards, in journey of the mysterious "prince" where she felt destined to meet. As a childm she encountered a goddess who told her to do this. She made sure that she never starved to death by consuming whatever she could, and as a wolf during the full moon, this is what she did. Driven by hunger, she struck down lone travellers, animal or human.
Men attacked her, even when she was in her wolf form and was always the winner. As a woman she slay them with her pearl sword. The men left wounds in her body that was deeper than flesh, and she felt dazed for months. Despite that she lived.
Pearl found a burned village, where soldiers had plundered earlier. The people of the village were all dead, some had died of plague. She remembered when men assaulted her before, and felt an intense pain. This was a terrible memory of her giving birth to a stillborn infant, a boy, who was never meant to be in this dark bloody world.
Named after the beautiful stone inside a sea shell that her mother Song found. Swords captured her imagination ever since childhood, when they were happier times with her mother.
Pearl grew into a hardened swordswoman with the training of martial artists. She developed her own intuition of Wolf Seeing without any other human knowing about this. She could see in the dark. She could hear for miles. She could identify someone's emotions without them saying anything. She could smell when illness and plague had started to infect another. She remembered when, as a child, she made her own bow and arrows, and showed this to her mother.
One day, Pearl entered a library in a semi deralict town, and learned about shamanism, the Blue Wolf, gods and spirits of the earth. It was here in this godforsaken place that she found a man in fine golden clothes. He was handsome, young, strong, but dying.
His blood covered sword lay on the floor next to him.
"Woman! Don't stay here!!!" he cried, but he grimaced in agony.
She went to him with a small cup of water.
"Who are you, sir?" she asked.
"I'm a Mongolian prince," he said. "I was attacked in the street by a rabid wolf."
"Rabies and plague are killing everything I love!" Pearl cried. Her mother, adopted family, friends, lover and now her prince. 
 "If I don't make it promise me that you'll take my sword?" he asked.
Pearl was sad and wept.
The prince died there and Pearl couldn't take his sword. She left the sword next to him and covered both the prince and his sword with a blanket.
"You belong with the sword and can carry it with you into the next life," she said.
Wolves howled in the distance.
 "My name is Pearl, but I belong in the forest and the sky," she said, remembering the words of Asena the goddess. "I remember you prince, last night..." when she had been a wolf... then became a woman. Her mouth foamed again. The fever was coming.
She left the library and disappeared among sparks and floating ash from the funeral fires. Her journey was uncertain but she was only a survivor in a dark landscape.     

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.

Thursday, 1 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Pearl Chono (Part 2: The first time)



The wind carried death through the streets. Pearl was in her seventeenth year by then, on the tragic night death struck the village. At first it looked like clouds of black smoke. Then these plumes had eyes, and looked like dancers dressed in black hooded cloaks. She watched them from a window and stared in horror.
The following morning, her foster carers, an elderly couple who had always looked after her since they found her alone in the forest as small ten year old, were struck by a severe illness. Their flesh erupted in red spots, and they couldn't move.She tried feeding them but they weren't hungry or thirsty.
They died. Pearl wasn't ill, and everyone else in the village were poorly. They all became sick in exactly the same way. It was a plague. A seventeen year old Pearl grieved, and she hadn't cried that much since her own mother died years earlier.
She couldn't stay, and gathered her things. She walked along a narrow path, moving South towards the misted hills. Pearl stopped when the moon came up. She was about to sleep under a willow tree, when something caught her breath. She fell to the grass and held her stomach as pain soared throughout her. Her vision turned red. In a long agonising hour, she wanted to forget pain, and escape the illness. It caught up with her and no one was here to help.
Pearl didn't remember much now, as her antibodies fought against the plague's starting effects. If it was the plague. She perspired and vomitted. Owls instantly left the trees nearby. Pearl screamed.
Then the pain was gone. Her red vision altered to soft blue and grey. She ran from the willow tree and it dawned on her that she was able to run on all fours. She had a tail now, and her body was covered in white silvery fur. She wanted to scream again, but her lungs were not the same. Instead, her voice sounded a sad howl like that made by dogs and wolves.
In return, distant howls followed. In panic, she ran into the woods and didn't want to see herself. That was the first time she became a wolf. The same thing happened to her mother, she remembered. Pearl was terrified that first shapeshift night, it didn't make sense.
Soon as dawn arrived, she fell asleep, and woke up in her human form. Pearl was scared, in the woods, minus her bag of belongings, and wearing just the tunic she wore the previous night. Lost, she followed the direction of the sun and came to a small path, leading out of the woods, and through a field of sugar canes. In the far distance ahead were domes of farm land, houses and herds of animals grazing.
Further away near the forests in the distance, peering up were gigantic heads!
Two heads with staring eyes. She was scared. Pearl ran towards the nearest tree, and hid there. She felt it was safe enough to look, and some cloud settled, covering the giant heads. It looked like they were carved into the mountains.
She ran closer to the farm village.
"It's empty!" she cried.
It was true. The houses smelled of death and blood. On each door were marks of X to show that the plague had been there and done its evil.
She couldn't stay here.
Jade moved towards the onimous forest with the giant stone heads in the distance on the high mountains. She was persued by a large wolf, a wild animals, and she had no option but to kill it with her sword. As she feared, it had rabies.
She walked on, thinking how the full moon would come tomorrow night and again she would shape shift....    to be continued....

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.