Nocturne Summit Tis a far cry from home for a poor lonely thing

Aha! Of course you did, for what would a story be without its morals?

The Taggerung grinned toothily, pleased that the story had captured Kynareth well enough to withdraw predictions from his mind. To inspire thought and wonder was a treat.

Perhaps this story will not end the way you think, the bard then remarked with a small nod to the son of the mountain.

Returning to his storyteller’s expression, the golden bard continued his tale of the gods. Tagg was pleased with Kynareth and how captivated he had been throughout the story.

Kojall thought to reason with his brother one last time. He climbed from the mountains and walked to the very same place that he had before, summoning Ipnos with an ominous howl.

The forest god arrived in his own time. He calmly stood at the edge of the trees as he had before. There were differences that could only be felt, but not seen.

The Taggerung glanced out across the expanse of land.

Ipnos listened to Kojall and refused him again. Kojall did not leave this time. The mountain reared his head and declared war. As if to answer this declaration, the mountain behind them spewed lava down its side.

On the edge of all things, the mountain and forest clashed.

The bard looked again to Kynareth. The bard’s expression was not as lively but existed in a reverent state.

Magic and strength are not things that respond well to each other. Kojall was mighty and threw his weight against Ipnos, shattering his brother’s ribs and puncturing his organs.

The mountain stood over his sibling with a greedy stare and blood about his maw. Ipnos was smiling.

Why do you smile, brother? You have failed! You have lost.

Ipnos looked back to Kojall and shared his last words with the looming mountain, with his brother.

Your greed has ruined you, Kojall. The Moon Owl has placed a curse upon my body. Your betrayal has cost you today.

The Taggerung appraised his audience member with a sharp glance. The wind tousled his blonde pelt and ruffled the hair near his ears softly. What he would not have given to hear the story of the great wolves for the first time, to stare in wonder at what their war might have meant.

Kojall was not convinced. He looked down at Ipnos and sneered.

Magic has no place in these lands, brother. With your death, you will rid us of the last of it.

But the mountain was mistaken. For his fangs had broken the seal of something much more powerful than either of the two wolves. The Moon Owl had seen what danger their fangs had wrought. It had looked down as Kojall swelled with greed and ambition beyond his limits and it had seen only one fitting end.

The mountain began to shrink. Kojall did not know at first but his back had begun to ache. Ipnos’ life was fading swiftly. He would be upon his last breath within minutes.

The waves washed Enokhe ashore. Her figure too was decreasing in size. The watery shape of her limbs and her pelt were slowly stripped and replaced with fur, with bones of a mortal. From the skies a sheen of light appeared and Aellar fell to the ground. A leg was broken in her landing, and she could not stand. They looked at their dying brother and the betrayer who stood over him.

The Taggerung latched his gaze on Kynareth for the finale.

Greed has punished you and your kin. The Moon Owl is displeased and has taken our power from us. Once, we were the only four of our kind. Now, our blood will be used and spread. There will be many wolves upon the world, hunters, warriors, fishers, and more. Today our blood is the creation of a world we would have destroyed.

Ipnos’ final words marked the end of the age of the four wolves. Since that time, all wolves have come from their blood. Each of us is a descendant of one of the great four. Each of us carries a lesson to learn from them.

A bow and another grin to Kynareth.