Aarmal

With every turn of the moon, a star grows cold
And a new star replaces the old.

Many call her mission a fool's plight, a wild goose chase, a madman's gambit. But Aarmal, leader of Fenrir's Fallen, doesn't care. The Great Wolf was last seen over a millennium ago, and many believe him to be dead. But Aarmal's mother told her stories of the prophecy that had been passed down in her tribe, tales of a wolf pack that would discover the shackled wolf's prison, and remove the sword that has been thrust through his maw, freeing Fenrir to exact revenge on those who wronged him. Aarmal knew from when she was a pup that her purpose in this mortal plane was to find the God of the wolves and release him, so that the land could be blessed anew, and the tribes could live in peace and harmony instead of the vicious war that was rife between all of the packs since the loss of their supreme Alpha. So when her mother died, the young pup, barely weaned, set out into the world to begin her divine mission.

~~~

Aarmal let out a long, heavy sigh. It was time.

"Call him," she said, not opening her eyes nor lifting her head. Melchior felt the vibrations of her talking and let out a little whimper. He was pressed to her side, supporting and comforting her. My poor boy, Aarmal thought. He's being so strong. Feather, his best friend, was on her other side, him too struggling to contain his tears.

Zephyr exited the cave, and let out a short, deep howl. The stunning blue wolf was more stoic, not talking or whimpering or anything. He had been standing at the far dark corner of the cave, his little golden dragon still sleeping in a nook there.

Aarmal didn't hear him at first, but she felt Feather raise his head, and Melchior stiffen then relax when he identified a friend. Slowly, slowly, she cracked open her eyes.

Dax stood before her, head held low, eyes downcast. He was the youngest in the cavern, and the moonlight illuminating him from the back made him look breathtaking.

"My son," she said. Raising her head took a lot more effort than she thought possible, but she shoved her fatigue away and regarded him with nobility. All the wolves here were adopted into the pack, but she raised each one as her own, and thought of them as her own pups.

"Aarmal," he replied meekly. He was nervous, she could tell. He knew what was coming.

"With every turn of the moon, a star grows cold," she breathed, eyes boring into him.

He raised his head, and his beautiful eyes met his own, a resolve strengthening within. "And a new star replaces the old," he replied.

Zephyr slowly removed her lion pelt cloak. She had been wearing it for so long that she never realised what a weight it had been. As her symbol of strength was raised from her shoulders, a new weakness settled in.

"Find him," she said, as she felt the last of her strength melting from her bones. "Find him, and free him. Restore the world to the glorious place it once was."

Her heart ached that she hadn't succeeded in her life's mission. But she knew that she could leave it in Dax's paws. She trusted him fully, and she had trained him his entire life for this. And now she'd see her best friend, who awaited her in the star meadows.

"I shall," the young male vowed solemnly.

"Create a new constellation in the sky," she said, a smile tugging on her muzzle as her head began to feel heavy. Her eyes closed slowly, and she sighed a final time.

Dax howled, long and low. Melchior, Feather and Zephyr joined. Her four sons cried for her to the moon. The pack below them, at the foot of the hill, added their voices. Aarmal's eyes opened, and she felt the strength returning to her bones. The mourning song carried her up, providing little stepping stones made of loss and stardust. She walked, then trotted, then ran into the night sky, the stars drawing nearer and nearer.

And she howled, and the stars howled with her.