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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Connor and the Wolves - 3. Full Circle

Not for the first time, Khurtschono reflected that this would be easier if she was a cellist.
The neko’s calico fingers curled over the string of the morin khuur. The notes of the Khaany Duu hummed out strong and clear, reverberating through the small room, but her heart wasn’t in the song.
Maybe it was the full moon. She’d been stuck in human form for a day and was close to begging for some bane. Aerafael were not meant to be cooped up for this long.
Or maybe it was the instrument itself. Her viola sat patiently on its stand, waiting for her to finish fooling around, to pick it up and make the world weep. But she had to finish twenty minutes of practice on the morin khuur first, and she still had five minutes left. She had promised her father she’d learn both instruments, and she would not disappoint him.
The horsehead fiddle sat in her lap, and her right arm pulled the bow across the two strings. Her body moved with each stroke of the bow as the rich buzz from the strings filled the room, her head, her soul.
Her furred finger slipped, jarring the breve she was playing, and Khurtschono cursed.
“Better not let Ma hear you say that!”
Altanchono’s voice sang past the practice room, a hint of a howl to the twelve-year-old neko’s voice.
“Better get the laundry done before Aav gets home,” Khurtschono called back.
Altanchono stuck his golden face through the door, a leer on his lips.
“Why? You have all night to wash the clothes.”
Khurtschono grabbed her music book, but before she could hurl it at Altan, her brother’s head rocked forward with a slap.
“Leave her alone.” Skylar pushed Altanchono back down the hall. “Go do the laundry. We aren’t leaving everything for Khurtsaa to do tonight.”
“Fine,” Altanchono said, before racing down the hall.
“Don’t forget, tonight’s an early night.” Skylar looked back at Khurtschono, her black-furred ears flicking. “Mom wants you up by five to do your chores. John is already putting the animals to bed for the night.”
Setting her instrument aside, Khurtschono pulled out her phone and set an alarm for the morning. After a moment’s thought, she set a reminder to charge her tablet. If she got to school and couldn’t access her sheet music, there was no chance of getting into the chamber orchestra.
Her phone beeped as she set the reminder. Khurtschono stood up, stretching her wiry frame. Yellow eyes took in the setting sun through a wide window. She could see a calico neko herding horses into stalls. The calico dumped out a large bucket, letting the water run toward the copse of trees that marked the edge of their property. A weeping willow rose above the copse, golden brown pines sweeping toward the ground, and an image of the pond under the tree came to Khurtschono’s mind. How long would it be before it froze over in the winter? It would be amazing to see the ice. Especially if they could stand on it.
She set the morin khuur back on its stand, taking up the viola instead. Setting up her alarm for twenty minutes, Khurtschono sat back down, running her fingers over the neck of the instrument. A moment later, she began to play.

 

“We’re going straight home after school, right?”
Khurtschono shrugged as she scrubbed a bowl. Throughout the house, the family was getting ready for moonrise, yet John sat at the kitchen table, book in hand and half-eaten dinner in front of him.
“We have to. Ma wants Altanaa here to help with the horses.”
Leave it to John to expect a form signed in triplicate and filed away a year before any change to his schedule. Khurtschono understood her brother’s worries, though. They were werewolves in a world that hated them. Their old school had been very vocal in that hate, keeping them separated from the rest of the students. With the start of a new school year in a new city, Khurtschono prayed they would be more welcome.
“Just make sure you’re ready to go by eight. I don’t want to fight for a spot in the car park.” Khurtschono set the bowl to dry, starting on the next dish. “And for the love of Tareth, finish your food.” She glanced around to make sure Altanchono and Skylar were still out of the room.
“Huh? Oh, right…”
John set his book aside, finally focusing on his dinner. Khurtschono looked up from the dishes as their father stepped into the room. The black-furred Ythin crossed the room, pulling an energy drink from the fridge.
“I’ll be back around six.” Khenbish headed toward the door, patting his pockets briefly. “You two get to bed.”
“Yes, Aav,” Khurtschono said, echoed a moment later by John.
They watched their father hurry from the house, called away by the emergency of the full moon. There was always a werewolf on the clock at the nearby hospital, and tonight was no different.
It took Khurtschono a moment to realise he hadn’t taken any wolfsbane with him. Grabbing a smoky vial from the fridge, she raced from the house, wobbling on her heels as she skidded to a stop by Khenbish’s car.
“You forgot your bane!”
“Bane wouldn’t be healthy for me right now,” Khenbish said, before pulling out of the drive and leaving a confused Khurtschono behind.
The last time her father had rejected wolfsbane….
Her eyes widened, and she raced back inside. Halfway down the hall to her mother’s room, she felt the moon rise over the horizon. John squeezed past her, the large brindle wolf pushing into his bedroom with his book in his mouth.
Sighing, Khurtschono turned back to the kitchen. It was too late to ask her mother anything. She gathered John’s discarded clothing and tossed them into the hamper in the washroom before heading upstairs.
A hall of doors greeted her, painted a uniform orange against blue walls. She unlocked the door at the end of the hall and slipped into a small room.
It took a moment to light the votives that decorated the altar on the north wall. A soft glow filled the room, showing off the large circle on the floor. Bits of offerings sat around the circle, and she gathered them up carefully, setting them into a trash bin she placed just outside the room.
A quick sweep of the room left it clean once more, and she gathered her own offerings.
Khurtschono turned her back on the east-facing window, placing a sunflower beside a tan votive. John took care of setting the circle; she trusted the candle was the proper red to represent the sun. Lighting the candle, Khurtschono straightened in the circle.
“Lynestra, Lady of Light, enter my circle, that my eyes might be open to the path before me. I greet you with honey, collected in your sight.”
Khurtschono let a drop of honey fall from a bottle into a small cup. She placed the paper cup on a bronze offering plate beside the votive before standing.
Turning north, she set a blue votive on the edge of the circle. A rose rested beside the candle, and shadows danced over the green petals as Khurtschono lit the wick.
“Tareth, Liege of Rivers, come to me, that I might be guided on the road ahead. I greet you with this catfish, prepared for you to taste.”
A piece of fish slid onto the offering plate to the north, fragrant spices making Khurtschono’s mouth water.
A silver votive settled into the easternmost point of the circle, a water lily resting beside it. The full moon shone in all its glory through the window, and its light melded with the candle.
“Lumara, Lady of the Moon, bless my circle on your holy night, that I may know peace. I greet you with moonstone, found under a full moon.”
Khurtschono set the stone on the offering plate, before straightening once more. Finally, she turned south, placing a sprig of ginger next to a brown candle. Lighting the last votive, Khurtschono stood up, bowing her head.
“Zasar, Lord of Ground, keep my circle stable, that I might understand your wisdom. I greet you with a marigold, grown from your decay.”
Kneeling, she placed the orange flower… probably… on the small offering plate. The scent of ginger filled her nose, guiding her thoughts. Khurtschono closed her eyes, focusing on the cool soil, the mysteries of the past, the decay of life that ultimately let life flourish.
“Lord Zasar, steadfast among gods, I come before you humbly, seeking a strong foundation for a new chapter in my life. Help me keep on my feet as my world changes.”
She followed the circle west, casting her gaze skyward before the tan candle. The sunflower filled her thoughts with hope, and she used that to focus on the goddess's warmth.
“Lady Lynestra, light of the dawn, I come to you in need of your sight. Show me the path I walk in the coming days and let my steps remain in your light.”
To the north, the catfish pulled her in. Standing tall before the votive, Khurtschono felt the cooling rush of water surround her.
“Liege Tareth, they who are without form, I come to you to reaffirm my vows to you. Shape me to your will, use me as your tool. In your sight, I become eingar.”
Pulling a round pill from her pocket, Khurtschono swallowed it, letting the taste of dirty mint wash over her mouth. Another swallow forced the dry pill down her throat. She could almost feel her body changing, though the hormone blocker would do nothing of the sort.
She turned east, facing the moon once again.
“Lady Lumara, guide of werewolves, I come before you asking for your protection. Keep my pack safe from those who would harm them. Let us live peacefully in this new city, free from the hate of those around us.”
The calico stood for a moment, basking in the presence of her gods. In their eyes, she was safe, protected. But all circles closed, and she couldn’t remain in the sanctum all night.
“Lords of sky and ground, hear my prayers. Let me go in peace and love, to spread your virtues to those I touch.”
One by one, she blew out the votives and then left the circle. The other candles went dark, and Khurtschono turned to the door. She was still full of energy, and sleep was a long way off.

Somehow, Chapters 2 and 3 got mixed up in the posting schedule. Their order isn't story-breaking, but I am aware of the problem. After both chapters have gone live, it should be fixed.
Copyright © 2023 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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