Chapter 13: I am Wolf Under Stars    

A hundred thousand teardrops shed under a beautiful moon cannot compare to the one teardrop you shed.

A smile that could pierce the heart.

The circles of your hands which I could trace forever.

A face of sadness that could break the hearts of every mortal who looks upon you.

Your company which seemed like the first dance of many to come.

Yet, in the end…

-The Sin-Bearer

I woke up with a convulsion. Not the convulsion that accompanied my blood, but the convulsion of waking up not knowing where you are. That is a convulsion that can get you killed faster than you could count to three, especially in the forests here.

And the first thing that greeted my waking moment was not a beautiful lady, but the face of Brother Leaping Fox. His hands were also upon my chest, as if that was the most natural thing to do in the world.

He smiled then, seeing me awake. “Ah, welcome back to the world of living, Brother.”

“You amaze me sometimes, Brother Leaping Fox. You are almost worse than Brother Little Bird,” I said, looking at the two stones he had placed on my teats. Then I looked at the various twigs and flowers he had placed on my chest.  

“Only almost? Looks like I will have to do better.” He grinned, then shrugged at me. “I figured you needed some laughter after what you went through. That, and I thought you would be cold.”      

“Anyway, just stop grabbing at my tits,” I said. His two hands were still resting upon my chest.

His expression was deadpan. “Oh. I didn’t notice.” Removing his hands, he stepped away from me. “Have to say, but a Brother can bond quite well through the teats. I should do this to Little Bird when we get back.”

My hands went to the side where my blade-spear was lying. “Well, at least you had the decency to put my blade-spear near me.”

He laughed. “Of course, Brother. I know how well you love your blade-spear. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you would rather have a blade-spear than your good arm.”

I deadpanned also. “Your weapon is your heart. It is your hands and feet.”

“Gah, you are quoting Hunter to me now?”  

Off to a small distance, Brother Ronat looked as if he had nothing to do with the two of us. He was in his own little world, one where the two of us were not in it. Well, mostly one of us, I thought, looking upward at Leaping Fox.

I sighed, shaking the stones, twigs, and flowers free on my body. Then I stood up. “How long was I asleep?” I asked, squeezing the rain from my hair. It was no longer raining, and looked to be late afternoon.

“Perhaps about two hours or so,” he replied.

I looked around, but could only see Brother Ronat practicing with his blade-spear. It also looked like we had traveled quite a bit. We were now just before the boundaries of the Desolate Forests Range. “Where are the Ritual Master and the other Hunters?”

“They are all out hunting a few beasts for the three of us.”

“For what reason?”

He shrugged. “Something about a transformation and our affinity with the hearts.” His eyes clouded a bit, as if remembering a scene. “What did it felt like when you held the red heart?”

I could still remember the strangeness of the red heart. “As if everything was right.” My voice became a whisper, surprising even myself. “Powerful, and as if the heart belonged to me. A sense of connection.”

Leaping Fox nodded, as if expecting that to be said. “It was the same for me.” He inspected me, looking over me once. “Still, Brother Wolf. I can never get over how you heal so fast. It only took little more than an hour. There are only scabs left for some of your more serious wounds.”

What could I have said then? I only nodded. Since that day of the dream fever, my rate of healing had slowed down, not quite as fast as before, but still faster than my Brothers’. Perhaps it was just due to my blood settling down.  

If I had to estimate myself, I was probably as strong as two of Brother Big Bear put together, and twice as fast. Despite his looks and his huge height of more than eight feet tall, Brother Big Bear was quite fast. The slowest out of us all, but still fast. He moved faster than you would expect for one his size.

I had also discovered a few strange things about my new-found power.

I could somehow sense a wounded prey. Not through the sense of smell or through the sense of sight, but through something akin to that of instinct. A nudging feeling at the back of mind of where the location was. For the moment, I only simply deemed this as a Blood Sense. It was a simple naming and described it aptly. There was no need to think in difficult terms.

Among my discoveries, the most important of them was how I grew slightly more powerful by drinking the blood of each new type of beast I killed in battle; the extent of my improvement scaled with the potential of the slaughtered enemy. It was only slight changes, barely noticeable, but they all added up. I had only noticed it after I had hunted almost every type of beast in the northern forests.    

In my excitement as a child, finding out that I could gain strength through such a method, I had aptly named it “usurping new blood.” It was only after I came to Knew my blood that I found out that it was the Blood Essences of the beasts that gave me strength. Somehow, my body and blood felt as if it was Surging after taking in these Blood Essences.

“Were you the one that carried me here?” I asked.

Leaping Fox nodded. “Yes. Brother Ronat and I took turns carrying you. Your sleeping posture was also terrible.” He formed a slight grin. “You were moving around, making grabbing hands at someone while calling out Dance of First’s name.”

“I am not as easy to trick like Brother Little Bird,” I said.

He shrugged. It was a motion so natural that you would not think Brother Leaping Fox was lying or being honest. “It is up to you to believe me or not.”

I didn’t believe him.

========

When night fell, the Ritual Master and the other Hunters came back out of the Desolate Forests Range. With him, he carried three different pieces of hearts. Not the hearts in the intricate chest, but the hearts of the creatures he had hunted.

He took out a piece of a reddish heart still wet with blood from a small pack. We gathered around him. We had set up camp just inside of the boundary of the Desolate Forests Range. “This is the heart of a Six-tailed White Fox,” the Ritual Master said. He glanced at Leaping Fox, handing it over to him. “Keep it, you will need it soon.”  

Leaping Fox took the heart in his palm. It was just about the right size for holding it in a fist. “Hmmm. I don’t really like hearts, especially fox hearts. I find them too chewy, and sometimes too bitter. It’s like chewing myself.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Brother. I think you are pretty soft. Not chewy at all.”  

“What? Don’t tell me you still hold a grudge over me prettying up your teats, Brother Wolf.”

While we were arguing, the Ritual Master gave Brother Ronat another heart. Underneath the light of the campfire, it glowed an orange-red and like the previous heart, it was still wet with blood. “The heart of a Sky Vreyer. Troublesome creatures they are to catch,” said the Ritual Master. “I had to climb a tree to get this heart.”

“As for the last heart—”

“Wait, wait. Don’t tell me,” Leaping Fox interrupted. “Let me guess. It is the heart of a wolf?”

“You are correct. How did you guess it?”

“It was easy.”

The Ritual Master shook his head while facing me. “I guess your Brother can’t tell what sarcasm is.”

I simply shrugged as if saying don’t look at me.

“This is the heart of a White Wolf. It is a proud and aloof creature. Unlike normal wolves, it doesn’t hunt in a pack.”

Leaping Fox laughed at that. “It suits you, Brother Wolf. I think the Ritual Master is giving you a hint that you shouldn’t go off on your own so much.” He patted my back. “You should spend some more time with Dance of First, else I can imagine you marrying your weapon in the future.”

I scowled at him. I will give Brother Leaping Fox at least this much. He liked to run his mouth off a lot and play tricks. But he was perceptive. Then again, that was only when he wanted to be.

I let his joke fly over me. Fly far away and true. Let him have his night. I owed Brother Leaping Fox today.

Holding the heart in my hand, I waited patiently as the Ritual Master took out the intricate blue chest again. As soon as it was opened, I felt the strange pulling of the hearts of the star beast, the connection as if the hearts were a part of me.

“As you know, each of the Demona is born with certain traits and inborn abilities which require the womb-blood ceremony to unlock them. These abilities and traits, however, are almost negligible for the normal Demona. They are only seen strongly in Hunters. For Hunter Leaping Fox, as the lead Hunter has told me, he is born with an ability for his aim to fly far and true. As for Hunter Ronat here, he is born with an ability for stealth, a lack of presence, and composure in battle.” He looked at me curiously. “And you, Hunter Wolf, are born with an ability to heal quickly.”          

I stayed silent, not contesting his statement. In truth, I hadn’t been born with any abilities, but rather a Surge which I had soon lost in the Surge Awakening. I suppose regenerating quickly could have been an ability, but I had never heard of any Hunters having such an ability before.

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I had pondered over the few years how I had gained such an ability related to my blood, but the only likely conclusion was that some of my exploded Surge had integrated into my blood, slowly transforming it.

It was probably why I could enter into a Surging state with my blood. I could not, however, sense any other Essences than Blood Essences. I had already made multiple attempts at sensing the other Essences, but all of said attempts had failed.

“Now let us begin the ceremony of your true transformation. Without the hearts of the star beast here, none of you would have been able to unlock the true power that is granted to a Hunter. You would only obtain a fragment of the true power if you had not undergone this ritual at your height of growth. Your inborn abilities would not become stronger, and you would not have been conveyed some of the powers of the creatures you hold in the form of their hearts.”  

The Ritual of Age was a strange thing.    

We held in both of our hands two hearts, one belonging to the heart of the star beast and the other belonging to our respective creature. The heart of the star beast felt warm—living warm. The heart of the White Wolf felt cold—dead cold.

And as if sensing the heart of the White Wolf in my left hand, the red heart of the Star Behemoth King began thumping, pulsing with a vital energy that could have belonged to a still living beating heart. The outer edges of the red heart began bleeding. No, it wasn’t exactly bleeding. The red heart began oozing blood from its edges, not from any visible wounds, but as if it was making the blood.

I glanced at the purple heart in Brother Leaping Fox’s hand. Unlike mine, it was oozing a purple colored blood. In the darkness of the night, the color gave off an eerie glow, a faint sheen that wrapped around the organ itself. It made the thumping heart all the more alien. Likewise, the same thing happened for the yellow heart held in Brother Ronat’s hand.

I looked down at the alien heart beating in my hand, resonating with my blood as if dancing to the tunes of my own heart inside my chest. Had the Ritual Master not warned us of such an event, we would have all dropped the hearts instantly from our hands, no doubt.

Slowly crossing my arms, I moved my right hand above the outstretched palm of my left. The blood started flowing even more. The warmth in my right hand felt like a hot fire, as if I was picking up a burning wood. Time slowed for a moment, a second that felt as long as a century’s worth of time. In that moment, I watched the star blood flow down onto the heart of the White Wolf. It was like a blacksmith forging a weapon with tempering fire. Like a mother bathing her child with water. Red water.

A thump. A tremble. A pulse.

A living warmth.

The pulse and the heat came not from the alien heart, but it came from the heart of the White Wolf. And like a hungry desert that had not seen rain in centuries, the heart of the White Wolf soaked up the alien blood, sucking every little drop into itself. The heart convulsed, and the frequency of its beating increased as it became bathed in that alien blood.

I watched, transfixed by that scene, seduced by its movements.

A pulse every few seconds. A pulse every three second. A pulse every second.

The beating wasn’t like a normal heartbeat. Not a ba dum, ba dum. It was more like a low moaning, a wailing that chilled your very heart and traveled through each and every vein.

I held the heart of the White Wolf up to my mouth. Still pulsing, still wailing. No, it had turned into a howling. Like the sound made from a wolf.

I took a bite, opening my mouth as much as I could. I felt the piece still pulsing in my mouth as I grinded my teeth against its chewiness. It was a taste like nothing I had ever tasted. Unknown. Indescribable.

First came the bitter gall of it, scouring my mouth and throat as the blood spurted out. Then came the sensation of a burning fire in my stomach that threatened to burst out. I swallowed another mouthful. This time, a sweetness that was unbearable, a potent sweetness that made your heart itself ache. And it did ache.

My heart thudded faster, like the rhythm of war drums as the battle neared closer and closer. My senses became sharper, and I heard the maddening whispers which seemed to come from every corner, every direction, from even the skies itself.

I kept on swallowing pieces and mouthfuls of the heart, and each taste was a new taste, of flavors unknown. In my haste, I almost did not realize that I had fully devoured the heart.

The maddening whispers became louder, but never loud enough to hear them clearly. They were not whisper of words, of language, of the known. They were whispers of power. Of untold dreams. Of transformation. Of the stars.

Wolf Under Stars.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could almost make out the words of my name.

The heat from my stomach started spreading faster, traveling to every inch of my body. Then the screams came. They came from the throats of my Brothers, and out their mouths. Then I realized I was also screaming.

The ground became closer toward me all of a sudden. I realized that I was kneeling down, but my hand still clutched tightly at the red heart which pulsed faster and faster. The blood in my body swirled around violently, crashing inside my skin, wanting to escape.

My mind grew dim, like a dull light throughout the long night slowly fading away.

Wolf Under Stars.

I tried to remember my name. I tried to remember myself.

I felt a tearing sound almost like the sound of a piece of cloth ripping, except it was more muffled. It took a long time to realize what was happening. And when I did, I saw my skin rippling, tearing as the blade-like ridges grew out of my body, from my forearms, from my spine, from my shoulder blades. They were a reddish color that glowed unearthly under the light of the campfire. From these ridges, my blood, even redder, flowed down onto the ground as if feeding the earth.

A name seemed to dimly ring out from the deepest crevices of my mind.

Wolf Under Stars.

I am?

Another name.  

One of Conviction.

I am?

Then my heart also felt as if it had been torn apart, as if two giant hands had ripped it apart. My vision turned dark almost instantly, the pain making the edges blurry.

I became frightened. I could no longer feel my heart beating. A second. Two. Five. Then it began beating again, this time steadier and no longer as violently. I let out a sigh of relief.

Patiently I waited. I waited for more pain to come, more agonies, and more burning fire. I waited for more of my own screams. None came.

I stood up feeling better than I have ever felt before, the power flowing in my body now at my beck and call, my blood like a coiled viper patiently biding its time. I knew that I could uncoil it any moment. I didn’t.

I looked around and saw my two Brothers also no longer screaming. They were standing upright now, no longer kneeling. The Ritual Master moved toward them, softly asking them a question I could not hear.

Soon afterwards, the Ritual Master blocked my sight with his body, his blade-spear in one hand and resting easily against the side of his body. But I knew that he could have instantly chose to attack even with that relaxed stance.

“Who are you?” he asked softly, his frigid eyes looking into mine. His voice was a soft whisper, but a whisper done right can be far more frightening than a shout made in anger, made in fury. The right whisper can even make a grown man whimper, make a beast retreat.

“I am…” There was a silence as I thought hard. A flash of remembrance. I began my sentence again.

“I am Wolf Under Stars, One of Conviction,” I said. My voice was steady and clear-cut like a sharp blade. There was a strength in it that had not been there previously before. A fire that could be ignited to burn everything into ashes.

The Ritual Master nodded. “Looks like you remembered yourself. Good. There are always a few Hunters that do not survive the transformation process.”

I formed a slight smile. “And you didn’t tell us this?”

He smiled back. “I figured you would all pass.” He made a small wink. I was almost startled at that unexpected action from the seemingly icy Ritual Master. “That, and I didn’t want to discourage you.”

I laughed out loud then, my voice echoing the night like a wolf’s howl. I laughed loud and hard.

My laughter was infectious. Even my two Brothers joined in. Brother Ronat, his laughter a rare and true thing. And Brother Leaping Fox, his laughter a friendly one and also a sort of infection all on its own.

At that moment, I didn’t know what was so funny that I had to laugh like that. I didn’t know, but still I laughed. Dyed red by my own blood and still holding that red heart in my hands, I laughed in that night. I laughed loud and hard, my howls reaching even the stars themselves. Well, almost—they reached just under the stars.

“I am Wolf Under Stars,” I repeated. “One of Conviction.”

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