Thursday Evening September 20th, 546 ALW. Fennur's Heart, North-Eastern Glacial Regions. ….
"Rest. Get away from all the commotion. You've earned it. I'll be back for you at nightfall."
It was the last thing Mother said after leading Konan through the caves corridors and splits all the way into a dark solitary room with little more than bone artistry and furniture made of stretched skins and packed earth.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting, but he didn't mind. The silence was needed. Not the silence of dreams or watching spirits, but the silence of choice. Of his own accord.
With Nuwetara at his side, he sat and relaxed. But the questions lingered.
He quieted them with a focus.
His only focus since he first woke up in the storms and ruins.
Bio-Foundry Seven.
Possibly—hopefully, home of the Explorer's Foundation. Home of the Red-eyed people who took Nuwetara's family and his chance at comfort.
He pulled the Eye of the Explorer out of his tendon lined belt inside his animal furred kilt. He had it lined and tied up in a way that it wouldn't fall. It wouldn't be taken.
The familiar ball rested in his hand as he sat against the cave wall.
Nuwetara laid in a spiral beside him.
He felt the familiar shock of energy from the ball upon touching its finger-print padding.
The shaped light appeared and flickered, leaving the map in fragmented locations and angles with a buzzing notification.
"Connection Error!"
The screen fizzled for a few more seconds.
The trail was gone.
He wasn't sure how close or far he was. All he knew was the torment of the spirits, the stalkers in the tundra and those that didn't believe him.
Konan snarled and slashed the screen away before shoving the eye back into his belt.
Nuwetara unfurled as she rolled over onto her side.
One of her eyes opened to look at him.
"I don't understand this. I'm…. angry."
Nuwetara sat up and rested her massive head on his knee as he sat cross legged.
She purred. Not in the usual way between exhales, but in structured draws.
It was…. familiar. Not like everything else that was familiar to him in a weird disconnected sort of way.
He hummed along with her, realizing she was purring the tune of—
"The woman in my dream. You see it too?"
Nuwetara continued.
Konan listened. He couldn't sleep, but Nuwetara brought the bliss of dreams anyway.
"Thank you."
They carried on that way all the way into a comfortable sort of silence that was only ended when footsteps began to approach them from the twisting halls in the distance.
Konan knew who it was by the sound of a cane tapping along with every footstep.
Haljaani. The watcher in the dark.
Mother had to duck to step into the room. Blindfolded and imposing with her thick hide cloak and triple-headed wolf-skull scepter.
She stood still and smiled in his direction. "I figured you needed silence with…. a side of peace."
Nuwetara got up after stretching and approached Mother.
Mother held out a calloused and scarred hand tipped by sharp nails, "Hello, sister."
Nuwetara purred.
Konan replied. "Yes. Silence…it was good."
"And what a tragedy that is." Mother sighed.
Konan turned his face at her, "I don't understand."
"Of course not. I'm sure there isn't much you do understand."
"…"
She continued. "It's a tragedy that you crave silence— and peace. Because after what I saw today, I believe the great wrongs of this great world are only made right if you listen."
"Listen to what?" Konan asked as he hugged his knees to his chest— suddenly cold.
"Everything, Golden-child."
The answer frustrated him. He felt like he said he didn't understand so many times that the word was losing meaning.
So he didn't.
Mother read his mind.
She came closer, "You say you came from dreams, yes?"
He wasn't confident in much anymore. Which felt ironic after beating Berkaal.
"Did you dream when you were fighting Berkaal?"
He looked up at her.
"…..Yes."
She came closer and sat down across from him on the floor in the dark cave room. Her massive shoulders, long limbs and bulky cloak didn't seem right so low to the ground. "Tell me of your dream."
Konan cleared his throat and thought back on it. "It was different…"
"What was?"
"Everything." Konan replied. "Here it's cold. There's ice….and furs and white dust—"
"Snow." Mother corrected.
"There it's hot. I sweat till I'm thirsty….there's no white dust. Only red and gold sand as far as the sky. In the distance there's stone mountains that spit liquid fire and turn sanded areas into shard valleys."
"It's just like he said…." Mother mumbled.
"Who?"
Mother shook her head, "Continue. What else is different?"
"Me."
Mother was silent.
"I'm unsure…. I'm angry…. I'm afraid….. my heart beats fast and sometimes slow. There I'm….. someone else. Taleem was my name. I'm confident under the sun. I'm even under fire…..I'm not angry— I'm laughing as I fight her."
"Seffuri." Mother interjected.
Konan looked up at her, "You dream?"
"Not like you, child. Continue." Mother said.
"Berkaal became Seffuri. Berkaal is mean. Hateful and simple. Seffuri is kind….. dangerous and … hard to understand."
"She told you how to fight." Mother surmised.
Konan nodded.
"That wasn't a dream, Konan." Mother said.
"What then?"
"That was a memory." Mother said quietly. "Taleem Salhadir, Master of Moon-Dust. He was a legend of Lycan and greater-Wolvenkind. He lived five hundred years before the Lycan-wars…. Plus another couple hundred years. With his teacher— Seffuri The Serpent-Howler at his side, he toppled Coven-Kingdoms all over the continent of Kemet."
Konan listened as she continued.
"Your fighting style changed against Berkaal. Because you listened to Seffuri, is that right?" Mother asked.
Konan nodded.
"She was teaching you Vakhira."
Konan remembered the word. In the vision— memory, Seffuri mentioned it.
Vakhira demands offense even in defense.
"Word of the Red-Wind." Mother said, "It's a Lycanic martial-art and means of communing with the spirit of kemetian elements."
"The fire…." Konan remembered.
Mother nodded, "Your movements were intentional. It was physical language from a time forgotten by most. They attracted the fire-spirits. Which shouldn't have been possible. But then again, you walk among us."
"Me…."
"What else happened in your memory?" Mother asked.
Konan shook his head, "That is all."
Mother shook her head in disbelief. "Konan."
"I don't understand." Konan said quickly, "How do I have this memory. I'm not Taleem. I'm Konan."
"I don't think you have the memory, Golden-child. I think it has you. And I think it won't be the only memory working this way."
Konan understood that perfectly. He was sure of it.
"All I can say is embrace each memory that takes you. I believe they're there in your mind to help you. No matter how unpleasant."
Konan wasn't looking forward to that. But he couldn't outright say he disliked it all. The heat of the sands and playful rivalry between Seffuri and Taleem was…
Fun.
The fight that he now knew was a challenge for Alpha between the twins was prideful. Not a vision. A memory.
There were positives—
A growl split the silence.
This time, Konan knew it was his stomach before Nuwetara pressed her head into it.
Mother smiled. "Come with me."