"Thank thee for giving me strength to accept my mistake, Spirit of Endurance." Annie bowed to a stone idol, shaped in the form of a wolfkin with a missing leg and arm. The statue, like others beside it, was crudely made out of a solid chunk of stone, with the claws of shamans. The Wolf Tribe cared little for beauty, all they cared for was utility. The packs needed a place to worship. The shaman can make one within an hour, slashing stones into the forms of statues with her claws. Usually, the den for praying was a crude place. Yet the den near the military base was a whole other deal, it was brightly lit, well made, and massive icons of the Spirits were placed behind each statue.
Annie was standing in a cavern located five hundred meters from the military base of the Reclaimers. Most of the state's faiths were represented within military bases, with small chapels, altars, and even places to burn offerings within the military facility's sturdy walls. Priests, druids, and other religious people served the spiritual needs of soldiers daily.
The Wolf Tribe was a bit different from this. They dislike praying side by side with other normies, always finding a deep and dark den outside of base, building an altar within it. Such places had little value to them and could be abandoned at a moment's notice. Spirits cared not for material side of the life, the only reason shamans made effigies of spirits was to help wolfkins focus their thoughts on someone while praying. This place was supposed to be a remote den, far away from the prying eyes of others. It was supposed to be, yet the Spirits decided differently.
Originally, this cave was dug out by two shamans, who hollowed out the insides of a small hill in order to create a small and dark den for prayers. Mighty claws tore through stone and removed the ground. Wooden supports were placed, ensuring that the den would not collapse in the coming days. Five slabs of stone were brought in, and with just a few slashes of claws, they were turned into shapes that believers mostly associated with spirits. Initially, no lights were shining in this place, the floor was covered by dirt and jagged pieces of rock, sharp enough to wound the legs of normies. When shamans were content with what they built, they scratched words of basic prayers above each statue, to ensure that any member of the Wolf Tribe could pray here even without the presence of a shaman. There were countless prayers in the Wolf Tribe, slowly changing as life went on. Entire tomes were filled with words that shamans used as they led different ceremonies. But five basic prayers were always available to all.
Then the shamans went back to sleep in the village, only coming back once a week to check if the den was still standing and help with prayers for the most inexperienced wolfkins. At the end of the second week, when the shamans arrived to clean the place and lead the ceremony, they were at a loss. The floor was clean from dust and rock, plates made of wood now covered the ground, leading to the place of prayer. An electric light was shining in the den. Several generators were placed in corners of the den, and lights were now covering the ceiling. Crude wooden supports were replaced with sturdy metal supports, and the walls were now round rather than the misshapen mess they were before. The effigies, however, experienced the most change. Crude stone figures were still in place, but on the wall behind them now were icons with imagery of the Spirits, new effigies were placed on a large bronze altar. A few small heaters were placed inside the praying den to warm the place at night.
Naturally, shamans were confused as to who could have done this. The icons were skillfully made by an unknown artist. The Spirit of Rage resembled a being from hell, the dark shape of a wolfkin standing in front of a crimson background. The Spirit of Endurance was depicted as a wolfkin who moved through raging torrents of water and wind. The Spirit of Loss was painted as a gentle mother, surrounded by the moonlight, calming orphans of both normies and wolfkins around her. The Spirit of Spite was depicted as an indomitable figure, refusing to give up to foes before her. The Spirit of Pride was depicted as a caring father, prompting people around him to reach for greater heights. The confusion of shamans only grew at this sight, the Wolf Tribe was not known for any artists. More so, Dragena and her pack were notoriously known for lacking in dedication to Spirits, barely any of the pack members bothered to come for prayers and certainly no one of them would waste their time adoring the prayer den. Shamans wondered who could have changed the cave so. They searched around, finding footprints leading to the military base.
Finally, shamans called for Dragena, asking for an explanation. The warlord visited the commander of the base and came back with news. Recruits who came from the Core Lands were believers in the Spirits. The shamans initially refused to believe in this, normies and other new breeds hold the same beliefs as the Wolf Tribe? Inconceivable! Wolfkin shamans visited the base, spending a long time speaking with newcomers, confused as to why would anyone outside of the Wolf Tribe even think about worshiping Spirits. It turns out that the faith had spread, far and wide enough to be established as one of the officially recognized faiths of the state. Dens of Spirits, as normies called places of worship, were built in the Core Lands and shamans from the ranks of normies were elected.
The Wolf Tribe's shamans were perplexed by this news, but accepted it as a manifestation of the Spirits' will. The faiths were similar, but the beliefs of normies were too soft in the view of the shamans of the Wolf Tribe. Shamans of normies kept their names. They did not care about promoting domination and struggle. Grumbling discontentedly, the shamans of the Wolf Tribe allowed normies to use dens made by wolfkins for the purpose of prayers, yet refused to join two faiths into one. Normies were allowed to add their own prayers, to ask wolfkins about prayers and the history of the tribe, and even change dens to suit their physical and spiritual needs. Shamans of normies and new breeds other than wolfkins were allowed to lead spiritual ceremonies in the Wastes and Ravaged Lands, when shamans of the Wolf Tribe were not available. These concessions were happily accepted by the faithful from Core Lands, and the shamans of Wolf Tribe were invited to lead several joint ceremonies in Core Lands as a sign of friendship. Then the same request came from Iterna, of all places, where faith in the Spirits also took hold. Confused and scared by such turn of events, the shamans of the Wolf Tribe refused both requests. The Wolf Tribe was always known for secluding the lives of its members. The shamans of the Wolf Tribe never wanted to spread their faith among other people, they never wanted to leave the tribe either, save for the times of war. Shamans assumed that after making so many concessions, they would be left alone. The invitations never ceased coming, however.
"Spirit of Loss, I thank thee for helping me to move on." Annie bit her thumb, allowing drops of blood to fall into the bowl before the idol that represented the Spirit. The icon behind was shrouded in shadow, barely visible to the eyes of non-new breeds, while other icons were brightly lit by the flames of the braziers on the wall.
Men and women stood side by side with Annie, giving their own praise to the Spirits. Some people spoke as loudly as Annie, while others prayed silently. The main ceremony was over, and the two shamans were busy cleaning up the den. Both shamans were massive beings, their fur did little to hide impressive muscles underneath their skin. Each of them had taken part in countless battles and dominated hundreds of opponents on their road to power. Yet now both women were trying to be quiet, allowing people to give thanks to the Spirits.
"Seriously, I can’t believe that this is happening." Quietly said one shaman to another, while working with a broom, swiping dust from the floor. Even for the ears of Annie, it was hard to hear the words. Shamans always spoke the truth or the truth as they understood it. It was not uncommon for them to be wrong, and they always admitted their flaws before. Yet right now, both women were too ashamed to speak aloud.
The shaman nodded to her companion among the fifty people gathered before the altar. Most people were normies, fresh recruits from the Core Lands. Some of them were new breeds, however, standing head and shoulders above their comrades. And not all were even military, there were some traders here, one man had blonde hair and claimed to be from Pearl, another was a tall, dark-skinned woman from lands far to the east. Just a few weeks ago, Annie would never have prayed side by side with outsiders. The scout, on the other hand, realized that she no longer cared about such trivial matters, her fear and hatred having faded away. For the first time in a long time, Annie truly felt at peace.
Looking back, Annie understood how stupid she was. In her hubris, she declared all outsiders as evil beings, who wanted to hurt the Tribe. The height of foolishness, that’s all that it was. Dynast, an outsider, was the one who saved Ravaged and the entire Wolf Tribe. Devourer helped the Tribe numerous times. Wyrm Lord, another outsider, provides food and care for the Tribe. Abyss, normies even taught Annie how to use the terminal!
"Spirit of Pride, I thank thee, for giving me another chance of bettering myself. Spirit of Spite, I beg of thee, never allow me to forget about the dangers of prejudice." Asked Annie, feeling burning shame deep within herself.
"Spirits willed it, and thus it happened," The second shaman shrugged her shoulders, counting supplies brought in by officials of state. The State was covering all the spiritual needs of soldiers, building places of worship when needed. Candles, electric cells, repair materials…. Den now needed proper maintenance and shamans took upon themselves the task of ensuring that soldiers will feel at ease, "We will adapt and grow stronger through it."
"I agree. It is hard to lead ceremonies for others, though. Their views are… different from ours, and you can’t even bite them, because you don’t know if they are genuinely ignorant and if they can survive the bite. I hate failing in my duties." The first shaman exhaled a sigh. The woman appeared to be more distressed by her inability to properly lead her new and strange flock than by the fact that she now had to maintain dens in both the village and close base. Her head was devoid of ears, with only scars visible around the holes where her ears used to be. The shaman herself was dressed in a strange vest, stitched together out of countless jackets that were too small for her individually.
Stolen story; please report.
"Spirits give us trials, so we never stand still and always move forward. This predicament is merely one more trial. Let us learn more about the traditions and customs of the Core Lands. I am sure that we can find a way to better guide new believers if we can understand them. Until then, all we can do is to answer all their questions." The body of a second shaman was a living tapestry of scars, thick lines ran across her entire body, ruining her natural fur forever. One of her eyes was missing, her eye socket merged with a mechanical device with a crimson glass orb inside. The Wolf Tribe looked down on those who used augmetics, believing that such people lost their connection to the Spirits. This shaman did not care about this superstition, it seemed.
"I hate speaking with outsiders. Remember when the warlord asked us to bring food and medicine to some tribes during times of trouble? I ended up helping one of the locals there in her first lifegiving. You know that it is not uncommon for normies to only have a single cub during lifegiving? And yet there are so many of them around. All of them are weird."
"I am of the same opinion, sister. Yet Spirits gave us a task, and by their will, we will find a way to succeed in it. Maybe we should try and watch this TV thing? Normies seem to watch it."
"We don’t own a TV, and neither do we have tokens to buy one." The first shaman critically looked at the result of her cleaning, "Besides, this TV thing reeks of deviancy. As superior beings, we will naturally be immune to its poisonous influence, thus watching it simply pointless if it won’t have the same effect on us as it has on them."
Both women stopped talking as one of the normies, a blond-haired man, came to them, asking questions about praising Spirit of Loss. Among wolfkins, it was common to sacrifice at least something to the Spirit of Loss, be it blood, tokens, or even single hair. For when you change, you often discard something. The Spirit of Loss collects the items, which are meant to represent discarded bad memories or feelings, and melds them into something new. For nothing in the world was truly useless. Such practice was apparently uncommon in the Core Lands, and few faithful were curious about what the Wolf Tribe members were doing before the altar of Loss.
"Spirit of Rage, I thank thee for leaving me alone for one more day," People slowly start leaving the den. The weekly prayer was over, the shamans went with the flock to the exit, answering questions. A few vehicles were parked outside of the den, provided by the command of the base. Soldiers will return back to base, before continuing on with their duties as usual. Annie was left alone in a spacious hall, praying to the demonic image of the Spirit of Rage. His stone idol lacked any shape, it was just a mismatched mess, created by the shamans. Stone idols of this Spirit were made by remembering and reliving the most painful memories, while your claws worked on the stone. Rage had no shape, thus each idol was unique, I beg thee, rage that answers any despair, turn your gaze away from me for a moment longer. I have finally found myself… I think. Let me see where my road leads me, oh Harbinger of Doom."
Annie bowed once more to all spirits before lowering herself on her left knee before the stone idols. She felt as if someone or something was gazing at her, but when she turned around, she saw only an empty hall. Fire was softly cracking in braziers and voices were coming from outside of the den, along with the starting engines of vehicles. No one was present here, Annie convinced herself that she was simply on the edge because of her today’s duties.
"Spirits, I have a request to ask from you all, one that you have no doubt heard often from me by now," Annie licked her suddenly dry lips and abandoned her official tone, "I know that my life is not worth much. But please, take my life and give my sister back. Any duty, any task, I will carry on, just give it to me and you will see. In exchange, give Sveta her life back and keep her safe. I beg you." She grasped her hands together, placing her elbows on her right knee and pressing her forehead to her fists. The cackle of the wood in the braziers was the only answer that she received. The scout waited for a whole minute, repeating a personal made-up prayer over and over, before standing up and bowing once more.
Annie was surprised to see the familiar form outside of the den. Angoro Viscario, dressed in his black uniform, was speaking with two shamans. Behind him was a small squad of agents. Finally, one of the shamans nodded, and Angoro bowed to the woman.
"We meet again, scout Annie," Angoro smiled as Annie approached. The shamans yawned and went to sit on the stones, while the agents who came with Angoro went into the den. Annie noticed APV forms moving toward base, carrying back the faithful. This was fine, on the orders of Dragena, she will take the journey in another direction anyway. Outside of the den, the wind howled, causing the coat of Angoro to flap like a pair of wings. The smell of marks, a special fluid that shamans used to keep insectoids and other animals away from their dens, hit the nostrils of Annie. A large, badly crafted face of a wolfkin was slashed from stone, sitting over the entrance to the den. Animals are kept away with chemicals. Bandits and raiders were given fair warning with a sign from the shamans.
"We had a bit of a problem during our first meeting. You mind if I apologize, and we put them behind us?" Viscario took the glove off his hand and extended his arm for a handshake. Annie shook his hand, noticing how strong his fingers were. The man smiled with white teeth, "Anyway, I am sorry for being an asshole and all that. Care to answer the question? You were the last person in the den. Noticed anything strange today?"
"No, sir, nothing out of the ordinary. Your apology accepted, sir." The man before her outranked her by far, and Annie decided to play safe, "I have not seen anything out of the ordinary or suspicious. May I ask what seems to be the problem, sir?"
"At ease, scout, let us speak just like two fellow servants of the state," Angoro let go of her hand and looked at the entrance, as if thinking, "Not to harp on noble warlord Zero and all of that, but it is what it is. She invited reporters from World Without Borders, who are from Iterna, and from Sights Unseen, one of our state media. I am sure you know about the reputation of both of these companies, and now we have both of them competing with each other right here."
"I actually have no idea who they are. Never was the one to keep up with the latest news, aside from laws." The scout said honestly.
"Then you're in luck," Angoro said, smiling again, "These people are looking for sensational news. Stuff like aliens, secret cabals that rule the world, what if the Dynast really is a woman in disguise, what if the retired queen of Iterna is actually not a human, and similar insanity. But they are brave, I will give them that. Warlord Zero invited them to make a documentary film about the Wolf Tribe and the life of new breeds here. Few other reporters would willingly go out of here from comfy places like Core Lands or Iterna, yet almost in a flash, nearly a hundred people appeared here, vehicles and all. As I understand this, warlord Zero expected that reporters would limit themselves only to the village. This was a miscalculation on her part, as both groups were very persistent and enthusiastic. And they have the best camouflage equipment that money could buy."
"Sir, you want to tell me that we have civilians skulking around our base and village?" Annie almost grabbed her head in despair. Sure, the Wastes are no longer as dangerous as they once were; for example, you won't die if you suddenly step into a glow. No, they were still too dangerous for people from other lands, as insectoids, raiders, and even common bandits still fight fiercely with border guards and police officers.
"Not just around. We already caught two reporters, who sneaked into the base under the guise of repairmen and were busy questioning wolfkins soldiers. After we interrogated them, we learned that both groups wanted true material and not "spoon fed information", whatever the abyss this means. We find hidden recording devices from both sides all around the village and the base. Considering that we joined free speech and joint information agreements between us, Iterna, and Oathtakers, we can’t even lock the bastards in for a long enough time, just fine them and put them behind bars for a couple of days. Now we have to find them and keep an eye on them, before they find a way or two to get themselves killed." Viscario looked aside in dismay.
"You think that they could have sneaked into the den, right?" Annie looked around, thinking that it would be insanity for reporters to travel alone in the Wastes. This region was still dangerous.
"Think? Scout, of course they were here, this place is frequently deserted for entire days! For Spirit’s sake, this den doesn’t even have a door!" One of the shamans raised her ears at Angoro’s mention of the Spirits. The other shaman slapped herself across the snout and then looked at the entrance critically. The lieutenant made a few steps towards the den, then stopped and looked up into Annie’s eyes, "Listen, me and my people will deal with it. You know, I overheard what happened during that mission and… I trust warlord Dragena and all, but the state really has some good specialists. If you have any problems, even if it is simply nightmares, tell me and I will arrange therapy and people will help you, just like you help the state. If you are worried about the warlord’s reaction, no one will ever know, I swear."
"I thank you deeply for your offer to help, sir," Annie bowed to the surprised man. She fully meant what she was saying, "But I am fine now. If you don’t mind me asking, maybe you have some news about…"
"I am sorry, no. We are still looking for her. We combed every piece of ground at the place of the attack but found no remains of your sister. Forgive me for being useless in this matter. We do not give up, of course, but sadly too much time has passed since the event. " The man shook his head, walking toward the den.
"Still, I thank you for your help, sir!" Annie shouted, and the lieutenant waved his hand in a sign of goodbye without turning around.
Annie smiled as she turned toward the emptiness of the Wastes, taking off her boots and putting them into her backpack. She stretched her legs and arms, as she lowered herself on all fours, smelling the air, the fingers of her paws burying deep into the stony surface of the ground. Her muscles bulged as the young wolfkin loudly inhaled and exhaled air, banishing all thoughts from her mind, concentrating only on the task at hand. The refugee center was sixty kilometers from her current location. The gathering of volunteers will begin in thirty minutes.
Easy enough to get there on time. Annie leaped off the pace, charging forward on all four limbs.