Tensions lingered in the air as Nia, undeterred, demanded answers. “Why the summit, Uncle?” Nia inquired, a confusion clouding her features. “Is there an impending army we face?”
His response was measured. Antonio’s gaze shifted towards the sky, lost in thought, before responding, “An army, yes, but not of wolves. It’s an army of men and thunder, a force we must reckon with. The threats are evolving, and the pack must adapt. The Call is a call to unity, to face the challenges that are approaching. It’s time for us to rise from the shadows and play our role in the greater narrative.”
Nia, still grappling with her internal conflict, looked at Antonio with a mixture of defiance and curiosity. “And what is our role, Uncle? To stand alongside those who show no appreciation for our sacrifices. To protect a world that seems undeserving? I thought we were done with them,” Nia remarked with a lack of compassion towards humanity. “We target their weak, corrupt, or damaged individuals for our sustenance.”
Antonio’s eyes conveyed the weight of contemplation as he answered, “Our role, Nia, is to navigate and protect, even when it seems misplaced. The Divine Edict guides us, and in the face of a changing world, we must wield our strength with discernment. There’s a virtue buried within us, a purpose even in culling them. Our nature serves a greater plan. The summit is where we live to serve, as the threads of humans and ours bisect. We must act accordingly.”
“But they bring disaster upon themselves,” Nia protested. “Our blood spills for people incapable of learning or showing appreciation.”
“Mankind may not be worthy of our protection, Nia, but we must worthy to be protectors. The standards of this fallen world can’t be criticized by us,” Antonio responded with unwavering conviction. With those words, Antonio turned away, leaving the conversation hung in the air. Candace, an enchanting figure of elegance and wisdom, emerged from the shadows. Every inch of her exuded an air of sophistication, and her dragon tattoo, a sinuous masterpiece, added to her captivating presence. Nia, filled with uncertainty, turned to face the enigmatic Candace, who spoke with a softness that contrasted the gravity of their discussion.
[https://storage.googleapis.com/rocky-production/story_images/big_945d908387b9b76218ff544e92e78824.jpg](Image credit: [Candace] Gencraft AI prompt generated]
“Is compassion such a worthless virtue?” Candace queried gently. His soulmate, Candace, stood by his side, a calming force like Betty Ross soothing the Hulk, spanning countless millennia. Candace, possessing a rare ability, cradled his troubled soul and brought solace to his troubled soul. Together, they formed an indomitable force, bound by a shared purpose and a connection fated through time.
Nia, struggling to find a response, replied, “Not as long as it’s not wasted.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Candace’s words carried the weight of history as she continued, “Even in the face of crude, primitive, and xenophobic ways, compassion remains invaluable.”
The complexities of compassion lingered in Nia’s mind, as Candace’s touch conveyed the essence of their shared path. Antonio, resolute and authoritative, approached, speaking of compassion as a force that matters to the wielder. Yet, Nia’s questions persisted, and she asked about the purpose of the Call.
Candace and Antonio exchanged a knowing glance, before revealing the deeply personal truth behind the Call. Candace shared the story of her initial fear of betrayal, the strength of Antonio’s sacrifice, and the purpose behind their return from the shadows. Antonio beckoned Nia to examine his tattoo, a mark that signifies their duty to be stewards of the world.
“For a millennium, we’ve watched from the shadows, letting them stumble. Now, our self-exile is over. We must rise, show tough love, and demonstrate compassion through necessary means,” Antonio declared.
With those words, he and Candace moved forward, inviting Nia to join them. Nia followed, a half-step behind, as the trio ventured barefoot into the heart of the forest, to the gathered masses. As they walked in silence, they exhaled a symphony of rustling leaves. Nia, Candace, and Antonio moved as ethereal shadows, their bare feet connecting with the cool earth beneath them. The dense canopy above filtered the moonlight, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.
As they advanced, a subtle hum echoed through the trees, growing in intensity. The ambiance shifted from the tranquil whispers of the forest to a distant, irregular murmuring. It was a faint cacophony of a colossal gathering. Antonio, Candace, and Nia exchanged knowing glances, their silent communication acknowledging the approaching convergence.
Emerging from the foliage, the trio stepped onto a rocky expanse overlooking the summit. The sight that unfolded was beyond anything Nia had imagined. An immense swath of humanity sprawled before them, a kaleidoscope of cultures and nationalities converging in unity.
The acoustics of the gathering were mesmerizing. Multiple languages wove through the air, creating a rich tapestry of sound. Laughter, whispers, and fragments of distant conversations blended seamlessly.
Sepia skin tones painted a diverse portrait, adorned with intricate tattoos that told stories of lives lived, tribes, clans and journeys taken. Their spectrum of cultures and nationalities was a rainbow of hues. All the sigils distinguished one pack from another. Many wore tattoos of unicorns, cranes, phoenixes, crabs, lions, rats, scorpions, dragons, badgers, wasps, foxes, owls, snakes, hares, mantises, tortoises, sparrows, fish, dragonflies, centipedes, falcons, boars, bears, lizards, nagas, crows, spiders...and the rarest and most powerful symbol of all: the wolf.
Marisol watched as the various people traded stories, as nervous anticipation filled the air like palpable smoke from a campfire. The rocky ground beneath their collective bare feet absorbed the symphony of their steps, creating an echo through the natural amphitheater of the summit.
A breeze carried the scent of washed and unwashed people, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. The ensemble of voices, languages, and footsteps created a cacophony, a celebration of humanity’s diversity. The moonlight bathed the gathering in a silvery glow, turning the summit into a sacred space where the threads of individual stories intertwine.