“Because I don’t keep track of these things.”
“Really? But you said this was something your people celebrated.”
“Yes. We do. And I don’t keep track of things like that.”
“I take from this that you were lazy before Gnosis as well.” Bob said.
The three of them were having lunch. Michael met with Bob during breakfast, but didn’t have a chance to catch Micah and, after the latest events, no one was allowed too much free chit-chat in Alchemy. They only managed to sit down with him while they were having lunch.
And then Michael told him of the Moon Day celebration for the day. Towards which Micah first reacted with enthusiasm, before becoming sullen. His friends didn’t really understand the reasons for that and tried to obtain more information from him… but the lycan was uncharacteristically dour.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” He complained. “The elders from my clan usually handle that. Why should I care? I just get to enjoy the festivities. Or… used to.”
“You think they won’t be as good here at Gnosis?” Michael asked.
“No. They’ll probably be better. Other races love to celebrate with us, on this most ‘revered’ day. Bleh.”
“Uhm, I’m getting the sense there’s something you’re not telling us.”
Micah looked at him, before glancing at Bob.
“Right. I can understand you knowing nothing about it. What with the whole mind fuckery. But Bob. No stories about lycans in your homeland?”
“My people live close to deserts. We heard stories, but never lived them. No wolves in the desert.” He shrugged.
“I see. Then, gather round.” He said and pulled out a leaf that looked like a gem from his pocket.
He touched it and it started to glow. That was Micah’s minor artifact, a product of all the deals the lycan was making all the time. It ensured a type of privacy, as anyone who tried to listen in to their conversation would only hear the rustle of leaves. Not really subtle, since they weren’t standing in a forest, but it would do.
“I never told you this, Michael, because it’s not a happy story. But… besides me, how many other lycans have you seen at Gnosis?”
“Uhm… not as many as other species, but I’ve seen a few. None in our year, though.”
“And none among the professors.” Micah said. “I’ve counted maybe twenty students. A little on the low side, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And you never thought it odd that I didn’t talk with them more?”
Now that he thought about it, Micah talked with everyone. Or at least tried to. For him not to talk with his own people… Yeah. Odd.
“I can see that I’ve overlooked some things.” Michael admitted.
“No worries, I’ve played it cool too. I don’t talk to them by silent agreement. And it’s in line with why there’s so few of us here. My kin are probably the only race that actually has more magic users outside Gnosis than inside. Well… with the way they’re keeping secrets, maybe not the only one, but definitely the most populous one.”
“Why?” Bob asked.
“Because they don’t want to give us more power. Education, that is. They accept those of us with a gift for magic, but only the weakest among us. The strongest get left behind. Which also causes problems in the Clans, because the ones that learn at Gnosis almost never come home. Part of that is because… why would you? After years of living here, why return to poor magic and backwards settlements? But another part is that the ones with the strongest magical inclinations? That got left behind? They don’t take too kindly to ‘Gnosis spawn’.”
Given that Micah was now probably considered such a thing and described by such a term, Michael thought that his friend was entitled to his sullen mood.
“And that’s why you don’t talk to each other here at Gnosis?” Michael asked.
“We know they want to keep us down. Create disunity. We could form secret groups, talk amongst ourselves, but they’re really on the lookout for stuff like this. They don’t punish it, because they have no official reasons to, but they’ll also make your life difficult if they find you in the act. And also… we agreed among ourselves, way back in the Clans, that we wouldn’t cause waves. I mean that’s what this entire celebration is about.”
“Is it?” Bob asked. “I confess I am still unsure.”
“Look, Micah, I know that you think that you cleared it up for us. But you haven’t. You basically told us that Gnosis is subjugating you for no reason. What- Why are you acting like this is normal?”
“Because it is.” he despondently said. “Look, there’s probably going to be a ceremony or something tonight. We’ll meet after class and I’ll explain it to you as best I can, before the event starts.”
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They didn’t gainsay him. They walked to Class and though Bob tried to hint they were open to talking more about it during their exploration into animal species class, Micah pretended not to take the hint. Or maybe he actually didn’t. He was certainly morose enough.
So, Michael sat and thought, while their professor harped on about a species of what looked like mutant, disgusting rabbits. Though thankfully without live examples this time. He thought about the connection with werewolves Micah’s race probably had, but came up short. He saw the lycan touch silverware and saw no adverse reactions. He also saw him look at an illusion of the moon and noticed nothing wrong there either. Maybe it was supposed to be the real thing?
No, the werewolf-lycan connection was a sure thing. But what was with this celebration?
He got his answer, him and Bob both, as Micah sat with them in a side room, next to the main hall.
“Look, here’s the history, as best as I can tell it. My people weren’t always lycans. We were once a race called werewolf. And… look, people complain about orcs being barbarians, but even they weren’t as bad as werewolves. I mean… my ancestors were worse than monsters. They looked at themselves as shepherds of the wilds, but were really nasty about it. Each species they met, they would either make bow in submission to them and the wilds, but mostly them, or they would declare enemies of all wolfkind. Then they would wipe them out.”
“Wipe them out?”
“As in, kill everyone! I don’t know exactly what went on inside their heads, because our elders refuse to talk too much about them, other than that we shouldn’t ever go back. But… there are always some that say we made a mistake. And if you tend to not be a perfect goodie lycan, you get to listen to them. They live on the outsides of lycan Clans and settlements, but they’re the ones that carry the stories the elders are unwilling to tell. It was from them that I learned about the monsters my ancestors were.”
“So, because they were monsters, Gnosis presently persecutes you?” Michael asked. “Their peaceful descendants?”
Bob shook his head, but it was Micah who answered.
“Not exactly persecution. And this isn’t a ‘I learned to love the whip’ type of story. Michael, the werewolves got so bad that they wiped out entire species. They united all Clans into a War Pack. The leader… they got so bad that even Gnosis got worried. They wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t. They were like… like they had a divine right to purge everyone that didn’t meet their standards. Wild fanatics.”
“You sound as if you are somewhat unsure.” Bob tactfully said.
“That’s because I am. Nobody has the full stories anymore, not even the lycan outcasts. But everyone says the same thing. Their kind must never come back again.”
“Wait, that’s a possibility?” Michael asked.
“It’s what the Moon Day stands for.” Micah nodded. “Change Day. Around three hundred years ago, the world was at war. Entire continents were fighting against raids from the unified werewolf pack. That’s when Gnosis stepped in. They managed to devise a ritual, together with werewolf ‘traitors’. Peace seekers. Anathema to a normal werewolf. But they did it. The ritual would transform a werewolf into a superior species. One spared of the old blood-lust. Or spiritual convictions. We apparently lost something in the process. Strength, speed… more too, though none remember.”
“And your ancestors took the ritual.”
“It lasted almost half a century more… but yeah. There are still pockets of werewolves at large. But most of us are now lycans. Of course, back then, lycans fought werewolves too. But people still remember us for what we were. Here at Gnosis, it’s better than everywhere else. Not many assholes. I got a few nasty looks, but not many. Yet back in the real world? People still remember what we were and lycan communities are the subject of hate. Which breeds hate among the lycans as well. The outcasts I told you about? Some leave and go in search of those werewolf pockets. Of course, there’s no reverse ritual, but they long for the ‘glory days’ so… yeah.”
“But I don’t get it. If Gnosis is more enlightened than the rest of the world, why do they still treat you like this? I mean, the current generation of lycans is not at fault. And from what I understand, you are all the descendants of the people who made the right choice.”
“Yeah…”
“May I?” Bob asked, stepping in to help Micah.
He nodded and Bob took over.
“This even I know. The world still fears lycans, because sometimes, they can still be the source of werewolves.”
“What do you mean?”
“That ritual?” Micah said. “It could only be performed one day per year. When the moon reached a certain magical zenith. Which is the same day we host the Moon Day celebration. And every year, on the same day, at least one lycan per a few clans turns back into a werewolf.”
Micah looked almost ashamed at saying that. Yet he carried on.
And these werewolves… it’s like all the bloodlust that got wiped away from all other werewolves gets concentrated in a single one. They still remember who they were, but they go mad. And they receive massive amounts of power, too. And a type of… influence. It’s hard for a lycan not to obey them. When one appears, a pack instantly forms around them, if the elders aren’t strong enough to oppose them. Even if they drive them off, they go and find the remaining werewolves. Our people kill them on sight. Even one is enough to be a threat and if allowed to live, you can bet nearby kingdoms will get werewolf raids some years down the line.”
Micah laughed then. It was an odd sound from the normally cheerful boy, for the sound didn’t sound at all cheerful.
“Normally, we would all be in chains. But Gnosis prevailed over the other nations. To allow us to keep our independence, even with this risk. Since our ancestors made the right choice so long ago. But they come in, with magic and fire, when they hear of a lycan Clan running amok, led by a new werewolf. And they take the weakest magic users, those less at risk of becoming werewolves, and teach them here. Because, yeah, the higher your magical potential, the higher the risk. Other kingdoms, even other Clans, asked them to kill the lycans with high magical potential, but they refused, saying it wouldn’t be right. Still… I can understand why those lycans grow to be hateful. When you’re seen as a threat for so long, you tend to become the threat.”
“And the separation? Here at Gnosis?” Michael asked.
“If one happens to become a werewolf, then the bonds between us should be weak. So there’s less chance of a pack. I mean, could you imagine a werewolf |Mage|?”
It was a truly sad story. Michael thought maybe that was why his friend was as cheerful and sociable all the time, exhaustingly so. Maybe he did it because he wanted to prove others wrong. To make it known that he was not, in any way or form, a monster. And hide away the past behind a smile.
“Come on. Let’s get to the ceremony. Wouldn’t want them to think we’re hiding.” He grinned and walked towards the hall.
Michael made to move, when he had a thought. He hadn’t thought about it for some time, but…if this was a story or at least followed story rules. Then Micah had a dark past… kind of. And Michael just listened to its reveal. Which included a horrible possibility. And tonight, the academy would be hosting a great ceremony. Which would be the perfect moment for what?
Oh no.