Oregon in the Fall - 17. Chapter Seventeen: Cascade

We were once magnificent. Magnificent. A word that means nothing if you have no honor. The weight of legacy and the promise of destiny it should carry was turned meaningless. The Belcore pack. This was us. My family with its roots stretching deep into the rich soil of our homeland in Mexico before the winds of change carried us north, across invisible lines drawn by men, into the States. Into Oregon.

It was there, under the vast, sprawling skies, that my father took the mantle of Alpha from my grandfather. Willingly or forcibly? Not sure. I was just a cub. His authority undisputed, his leadership a beacon for our kind. Then came the birth of his children, heirs to his legacy. I came first, greeted by the moon’s silvery embrace; they named me Grey. Grey Belcore—designated Moon Heir, to be replacing my father one day in his fateful role. A year later, my brother joined our family, another link in the chain that bound us to each other and to the ancient rhythms of the earth.

My grandmother, a matriarch whose wisdom was as deep as the roots of the oldest tree in our forest, often spoke to me of strength when we visited her in Mexico. Her words were like seeds planted in my young mind, “You must be strong, Grisecito,” she would say, her voice a gentle caress against the tumult of my childhood, against the weight that the title of Moon Heir carried. “Never let anyone hurt you. You have to fight back. Always. Do you hear me?” And fight I did, though my battles were not against external foes but against the very person who should have been my protector. My father, the Alpha, whose hands were meant to guide and shield, instead wielded pain. I believed my grandmother saw the shadows that lingered behind her son’s eyes, the darkness that crept into his heart. She knew. She did nothing. Maybe it was a test.

One day, their presence vanished from my life. My grandparents, who had been my refuge in the storm, were suddenly gone. We didn’t visit them anymore, and they never came to visit us either. The emptiness they left behind was a void no words could fill. I remember the last time I saw my grandmother, her eyes pools of sorrow, brimming with tears that contrasted my stoic exterior. “I love you,” she said, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. “I’m sorry.” Those words were a farewell, a closing of a chapter I had hoped would never end. That was the last time I saw her, the last time I felt the unconditional love and safety her presence had always provided.

The questions haunted me in the years that followed. Where had they gone? Why had we never seen them again, without a clue as to their fate? The mystery was a wound that never fully healed, a scar that marked my soul as surely as the pack’s emblem marked my skin. Their absence was grim. And I was constantly reminded the only person I had was myself. No one else.

As I stood now, on the brink of unraveling a curse that threatened to consume not just my pack but the very fabric of our existence, I realized the journey ahead required more than just physical strength. It demanded the resilience my grandmother had spoken of, the courage to confront the shadows of the past, and the determination to forge a new path for the Belcore Pack. We were once magnificent, and perhaps, with courage and a little hope, we could be so again. But under this new leadership, I realized I was not alone. The last three days had brought people into my life who felt like they had been there for months, maybe even years. The connection, the shared burden, and the collective goal we had unknowingly committed to was the destiny I hadn’t known I was searching for. The gravity of our journey, the path that lay before us, suddenly became clear. It had only been three days since I arrived at The Lunar Haven, but the depth of our experiences made it feel like a lifetime had passed. So much stuff happened.

And in that moment of reflection, I was once again enveloped in the wisdom of my grandmother’s words, which now echoed with newfound clarity. “Grey, when the moon is the farthest away, and you can see a ring of sun in the sky, it is time for you to take your rightful place. And the sun will be right beside you. It is a balance, young pup. The moon only works in balance with the sun, for neither can be without the other. Your guardian, your everything, your other half, will be the sun.”

These words, once cryptic, now unfurled within me with a precision that left me breathless. I looked across the fire at Dave, bathed in the flickering light that seemed to refuse to play upon his skin the same way it did on the rest of us. I was sure he would be shimmering with a golden light, even in the dead of night. Even without the fire.

My grandmother had foreseen this balance, this duality that defined existence itself. Destiny, I had once thought, was a path laid out before us, unchanging and inevitable. But as I pondered her words, I understood the true essence of what she had meant. Destiny was not a road marked by the footsteps of fate; it was the journey we carved out, guided by the celestial dance of the moon and the sun, of darkness and light, each incomplete without the other.

“Your grandmother was correct,” Chronos interjected, his voice pulling me from the depths of my introspection.

“Huh?” My gaze snapped to him, my train of thought abruptly derailed.

“You see your path now. She did, too. Your paths are not written in stone. There is no predestination. It is all up to you.” His words, spoken with an air of finality, challenged the very foundation of what I had begun to accept.

“What the fuck, did you just read my mind?” The idea that my innermost thoughts were an open book to him unsettled me.

“Of course.” His expression was one of genuine surprise, as if the concept of privacy was alien to him.

“This is English you’re speaking right now, right?” Clara’s curiosity was piqued, her fascination with Chronos evident in her tone.

“Yes. I have to blend in.” His matter-of-fact response carried an undercurrent of amusement.

“You’re way too hot to blend in,” Clara retorted, her forthrightness undiminished by the gravity of our situation. Chronos, unaccustomed to such directness, seemed momentarily taken aback, his composure unshaken but visibly intrigued by our dynamic.

Dave’s laughter then filled the air, a sound so rich and genuine that it felt like he would always be able to lift the weight off of my chest. His joy, infectious and pure, reminded me that amidst the uncertainty, the fear, and the darkness, there was light. And perhaps, that was the balance my grandmother had spoken of—the undeniable truth that in the end, we carve our own destinies, guided by the celestial forces that bind us, but ultimately shaped by the choices we make and the bonds we forge along the way.

“You see the future, right?” I asked of Chronos, hoping he might shed some light on our path ahead.

“I perceive all temporal planes, yet your understanding of time remains elementary,” he responded. Rude.

“Then I guess, simplify it for me? For a dumb human?”

“Oh, my boy, your essence transcends mere humanity.”

“Let’s cut to the chase!” I wasn’t getting anywhere. And my patience was growing thin.

“To begin, let me unravel the fabric of your reality,” Chronos ventured. “The cosmos, as you know it, was birthed by the Seven Piers of Origination. Creation itself springs from Proto and Genea, the twin harbingers of all existence, enveloped in their eternal dance of Pyre.”

“Eternal, yet surpassed by the advent of Rain,” Clara interjected, her scientific mind grappling with the concept.

“Exactly. For with Rain’s emergence, eternity folded into tangible reality, manifesting the dual nature of existence: light and shadow, day and night,” Chronos elucidated.

“Like the sun and the moon,” I whispered, the cosmic balance resonating within me.

“Precisely. Harmony juxtaposed with challenge,” Chronos affirmed, seemingly pleased with our dawning comprehension.

“And Theodore, he disrupted this equilibrium?” I said.

“Indeed. A conundrum unprecedented,” Chronos confessed, his dismay evident.

“So, his power is unique,” I pondered aloud, the threat Theodore posed becoming increasingly palpable.

“Potent, yet not omnipotent. His manipulation reveals a flaw within our design, a lapse not foreseen by myself nor Terra. He saw that you, Wepwawet, was born, and seeked to draw from the power we bestowed upon you.”

“Terra?” I said. Who the fuck was that now?

“Terra, my counterpart, my mate, oversees the vast expanse of space as I steward the flow of time. Together, we guard the Seventh Construct,” Chronos explained, a hint of pride in his voice.

A sudden scent of jealousy wafted from Clara—rancid—, her interest in Chronos evident and very funny.

Chronos continued, “It is our duty to fix this. Or at least, we are the only ones who are interested in fixing this.”

“So how many other Constructs are there?” I said.

“There are seven in total.”

“Why aren’t the others interested, though?”

“It seems to me that we are the only ones who really strive for order instead of chaos. Also, it’s hard to ignore the present when you know what the future, as you call it, might hold.”

Then I heard a rustle in the underbrush, a familiar floral scent. Daffodils? Where did that… Edna! Edna?

“Edna!” I exclaimed, bewildered.

“What?” Clara said, equally confused.

“What are you doing in the mortal realm, Athani?” Chronos asked.

Who the fuck was Athani?

“Merely exploring, my dear. You know, the flow of time intrigues me,” Edna replied. Or was it Athani?

“You abstained from our plea for intervention!” Chronos said, accusatory.

“Yes. There’s a subtle distinction between abstaining and voting against, though,” she corrected and then turning her attention to Clara, “Ah, Clara, my dear. It is so good to see you! You’ve grown strong.”

Clara just stared at her, dumbfounded, taken aback. Edna took the opportunity and embraced her.

“Grey, Dave, Clara, I see you are all well, thriving even. I am glad.”

“I don’t… what?” Dave said, stammering.

“Did Chronos here tell you nothing? Chronos! Please be useful!”

“I told them everything.”

Everything? That was a lie.

“Um…” Clara managed, her head tilted in bafflement towards Edna… Athani… or whoever she was now.

“Not to worry, my dear. I had Karl take over the bar. It’s going really well. The substitute bartender is quite ugly though. I liked Dave better. I put all your money in the safe, you can thank me later.”

“Where’s Mikael, Athani? And how come your presence here is a secret?”

“We’ve been here for quite a while, Chronos. And I never made it a secret, you just never asked”, she said, “But I think Inari broke our deal. The stupid cunt didn’t take me back.”

Stupid cunt?

“Yes. She also put me here. That was very… uncalled for,” Chronos said.

“I thought you wouldn’t have come here by choice. But it’s so nice to see you!”

“Time out. TIME OUT!” Clara said, jumping up from the spot she was standing in. “What the actual fuck is going on?”

Athani-Edna merely offered a knowing smile in response.

“Why are you an old woman?” Chronos said, ignoring Clara’s outburst.

“Isn’t it the most fascinating exterior? I can inquire, I can meddle, I can be rude. It’s like a free pass, because who would get mad at an old lady?”

The mischief. I really need to pay attention to my senses better.

“This group here, Chronos, is the most fascinating thing I have seen in centuries. They all just came to me! Came to me! Would you believe that? I knew they’d be meeting with you eventually. The Theodore needs to be dealt with.”

The Theodore?

Chronos then focused intently on me, probably sensing I needed a better explanation. “Wepwawet, I’m sorry. This woman here is Athani, Custodian of Artifice, watching over the Second Construct—The Center of Truth. Her brother is the Custodian of Veracity…”

“Karl,” Athani-Edna said, giving a name to her brother.

“Karl? Really now?”

“Old man. Same reason. Humans are fascinating when reacting to the eldery. They sometimes even show respect, I like it a lot.”

Chronos continued, “So… Karl is her brother. His real name is Mikael. So in simple terms, The Center of Truth allows reality to settle. Without truth, everything would be meaningless. Without meaning, there would be nothing. Truth cannot be without lies, for neither can exist without the other.”

Dave said, “I’m so fucking confused. Every single hour we go on and on and on and learn new things, but so many more questions. SO MANY QUESTIONS! AHHHHHHHH!”

Yup.

Athani-Edna focused on Dave with a smile and said, “Oh, little Davey. Why didn’t anyone care to mention you’re a god, too? When did we do that, Chronos?”

Dave just stared at her.

She continued, “You’re glowing. It suits you. Anyway, Chronos, where’s Inari the cunt?”

Chronos said, “Home? I guess?”

“She’s my ride! That’s not what we agreed to. INARI!”

Athani-Edna stomped her feet. Her skin started to crack, crackle. Lines of green outlined her exterior. She was elongating, growing—bigger, younger, more slender. Her human guise fell away, destinctly different from the old lady look she had before. She became almost feline, her ears receding from the side of her head and reappearing on top. She grew a tail. Would she purr next?

“I-N-A-R-I! I will question you, you are being summoned! TAKE ME HOME!”

The sky tore open, a portal crackling with purple energy. A bolt of lightning, summoned by her call, struck our campsite with a thunderous roar.

Then an annoyed sigh came from the ripple, oddly funny, but foreboding and dangerous because it sounded like coming from a giant.

Athani-Edna was engulfed in purple light and ripped from her place, shooting up into the sky. The ripple closed and we were back to our somber night camp in the forest.

“I’m done. I can’t take anymore. No. Nope,” Dave said, shaking his head.

Clara just stood there, and so did I.

Finally, Chronos said in an apparent attempt to salvage some divine dignity, “We’re not usually this… chaotic.”

“I was raised around that woman! She was… she was… what?” Clara said.

“Athani enjoys the mortal realm a bit too much, it seems. Maybe she was bored,” Chronos offered by way of explanation.

“I’m so hungry… I think I need… I need to hunt?” Dave said.

Oh yeah. That. Wolf things.

Without a second thought, Dave transformed into his magnificent wolf form and bounded into the forest, a joyful yip marking his departure.

That was my call. I did the same, unsurprisingly ripping my clothes yet again.

“I can’t deal with my brother eating an uncooked rabbit right now,” Clara said, lost to the situation.

I did all I could to soothe her.

Poor Clara.

To offer some semblance of comfort, I nudged her gently with my muzzle and licked her face, a gesture of camaraderie and assurance. She knew that, right? With a happy yip, I dashed after Dave into the forest. Dave! My Dave! We had to hunt!

yes, yes. hunt! then play.

Play?

claim. play. bond.

You want us to have sex with him, right?

yip. yis. yes.

Thought so.