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I belong to the Wolf moiety of the Luknaxadi clan. At the same time, I am a child of Little Brother. I am a descendent of Gaias dearest children, spirits made flesh, who can be traced back to the beginning of the world. I tell this history in honor of my ancestors, my tribe, my mother, my children and my pack. The circumpolar world is large, and our tribes long battle has left us tired as if the weight of old age were on all our minds at once.
Like the tattered Pure Lands, we are in danger of forgetting our noble past. Is it any wonder? Look at our lands. Look at our Kinfolk. Many of the names for places and people have changed, rewritten by the invaders who have overrun our homelands. The names that Wyrmbringers know the First People. The First People are forgetful, and where their ways used to be as numerous as their nations, now they all drink soft drinks and wear blue jeans. Lies have found their way into the stories passed down from our grandmothers.
Lies have found their way into the First Peoples hearts so that their children do not know the truth of their own history.
Wolves are gone forever in many places and the air is filled with smoke. We are not the First People. We are not the wolves. But if the First People disappear, like the wolves already have from much of the land, what would happen to the Wendigo? What will be left for us except the North Winds fury? While there are still Wendigo in the Pure Lands, we must repeat our story to ourselves and to each other so that we do not forget. Our past is full of glory and sadness, divided like two seasons, one summer and one bitter darkness. The winter is now becoming the End Times when all history will be forgotten.
Before the End Times take us, here is our story. The oldest ancestor spirits who come to us are the lupus that knew this land long ago. When they deign speak to us, they tell us the story of creation. Gaia formed the mountains and fields of the world and all the creatures that roam there from clay. When the shapes pleased Her, She leaned close and blew Her warm breath over them, bringing them to life. Then She set them down as She willed; mountains, oceans, trees, wolves and prey all going to their proper places.
Because everything was so new, the spirit world was close, still clinging to Gaias creation like dew in the morning. At first, all was good and everything stayed in the places Gaia had made for each.
Wolves hunted the plains and the woods. Their cubs were never hungry and the stars sang in the darkness of night. The good times were like a long summer and those who lived then only sing us songs of joy. Their voices have become so faint now that we sometimes forget there ever was such a time. Those who lived in the beginning did not know how great their joy was. The spirit world, which in those days was so close, broke apart like ice in a spring thaw and splinters of that breaking lodged in the hearts of some of Gaias creatures, driving them into madness that mirrored the madness of the spirits.
The Namer and the Eater fell into madness and disease. They turned on the Mother and all Her creations.
The balance was lost and creatures moved wildly across the land, restless and no longer content with the places Gaia had made for them. It was then that the two-legs came. Some spirits say they came over a bridge of ice or from the hot jungles of the Fera. Some say that Gaia made them from clay and breathed life into them, too.
We say they came up out of the ground made from the same mud and ice they used to build their burrows. But however they were made, they came and hunted our territory as if Gaia had made this place for them. Some of them knew more of the ways of Gaia than the others, and it was these that we accepted into our packs until we were all of one tribe. Together we hunted the creatures with splinters of madness in their hearts. In the beginning times, our totem was Sasquatch.
At some point, so far back that none of us truly remembers what happened, Sasquatch disappeared. Wendigo became our totem.
This mystery at the heart of our tribe has never sat well. Even today, if youre stuck with some quiet time and want to start a fight, ask where Sasquatch went. I guarantee youll get a knock down drag out brawl if theres more than one Theurge around. Pass the frybread and watch the fur fly. Someones going to lose a limb.
Amidst the scuffle, youll hear a lot of trash. Sasquatch is dead. Sasquatch was in love with one dear Wendigo and when his favorite died, Sasquatch went mad, died, or got so pissed off he froze up forever and became Wendigo. Sasquatch gave in to some sort of spirit Harano and, again, died, went crazy or froze up. Better yet, Sasquatch got lost on the long walk to the Pure Lands and Wendigo decided to adopt the leftovers when we finally got here. Whoever says that last one deserves to lose a limb, and be beaten in the head with it, too. As if our ancestors couldnt do any better than follow a lovesick pup of a spirit incapable of finding an entire continent.
As if we had to settle for Wendigo after Sasquatch abandoned us. The most compelling of the bunch is the story that at some point Wendigo challenged Sasquatch.
They fought for one whole black winter and one whole bright summer, neither gaining nor losing ground for each was mighty in his own right. At the height of summer Wendigo finally fell, but even Sasquatch could not kill the Heart of Winter. When Sasquatch claimed Wendigos icy heart in a victory feast, the frozen blood became Sasquatchs own, he too became the North Wind and Wendigo had won.
That ones not bad, but it doesnt explain what brought Sasquatch and Wendigo into contention. So, were back to settling it with fists. Since we dont have time for the beating, heres a story that makes a lot more sense than all that drivel youve probably heard. When our grandmothers were young, a warrior called Tears of Blood wanted to know the truth of Sasquatch and Wendigo.
He waited until a moot and asked his question. Before the ruckus of flying claws and theories had quieted Tears of Blood heard the echo of laughter from the spirit world. Like most, Tears of Blood didnt like being laughed at, so he went into the Umbra to see who was insulting him. In the spirit world, he saw the source of the laughter was a little blue fox. Tears of Blood knew that sometimes spirits were not at all the things they appeared to be, so he approached the laughing fox and greeted her respectfully.
Then he asked her, Fox, why are you. In the early spring a wolf had three pups. A late frost came and the eldest of the pups said, Mother, I do not like this cold. Please, may I live somewhere warm?
The she-wolf said, Yes, my child. Go south and towards the warm glow of sunset. There you will live always in the suns warmth. You have a clever head for speaking with the spirits and dreaming true dreams.
Your insights will show you the truth of the traps laid by the Defiler Wyrm. I give you the painted lands of dunes and canyons as your own and your children will be great shamans. Older Brother thanked the she-wolf and left the den. Time passed and then the milk was gone. The second pup said, Mother, I do not like this drought. Please, may I go and live in a land that will quench my thirst? Go towards the rising sun and the scent of water. There you will live always by the waters edge, near the ocean and many lakes.
You have a noble heart for seeking justice and knowing the honorable way in all things. By these you will see through the desires brought by the Eater of Souls. I give you the fertile lands of woods and lakes as your own and your children will be wise leaders. Middle Brother thanked the she-wolf and left the den. Time passed and it grew to be the long night of winter. The last pup did not mind. The she-wolf said, My child, since you do not fear the darkness and do not complain of cold, you will stay under the icy light of the stars and live here in the north.
You have a fierce spirit, possessing great fury and courage in the face of every danger.