The First Age

The streets pulsed with activity as he walked along. He appeared as a local. That it was a disguise to his enemies amused him darkly. Istanbul was familiar, but without a nostalgic sepia. The memories were populated with a child's concerns, and not a thought of blood. His parents still lived in the house. And he felt nervous for being here. 

Along the high rises, a cat kept its paces with him. When he had left the taxi, he had given it a piece of chicken. The cats of Istanbul were forever, and everywhere. They were hunters, like him. But they would still take a chicken wing. Pride was useless to a wordless one, though he prowled with a lions gaze. He hadn't eaten it yet. Ari began to notice that it wasn't really following him. Their intention only led them in the same direction. 

The people about him crowded a mind trained for solitude. It might have been more uncomfortable if it wasn't home. But without fatigues the clothing settled strangely on him. And the weight of his gear was gone. That wasn't very welcoming. I am just another son visiting his parents. The smells were overwhelming, it was hard to pick out who was who. Here a bit of fear, but they were only late for work. There a bit of love, they were only hopeful for a first date. And the acrid background of discontent, and residue of more drastic smells. Cities were like that now, as if the CCD had destroyed something inside him, and thrown him back to before even the most rudimentary tongue had developed. A beast looked upon a spaceship in bewilderment.

As he approached the courtyard, seagulls cawed over the ancient walls. A new Rome had found owning the hellesponte a convenient tradition. He wondered if he could ever lose the taste of their prey in his jaws. The Wordless ones mocked him in the dream for letting the state choose his hunt, and seeking no pack. The black cat did not waver from their shared path, entirely coincidentally.

 Above the walls, a warships communication tower revolved, a CCD banner flapping furiously in the wind. A bloody supply line, right from Moscow, bisecting the Black Sea. He lingered on it for a moment, like the cat, but drove on through the streets.

His house was as he remembered it. Anxiousness for their meeting wasn't just because of the departure he had made from his old self, or the too few letters once he became lost in the hunt. He wondered if the Vegas searched for him, or some other CCD power. Wouldn't they come here? The most predictable place to come?

He circled three times, but the people only appeared unsuspiciously. And the authorities had no eyes for him, attached more to the city than any particular dark, secret rooms. It was a risk he wouldn't have taken under normal circumstances. Was it cowardice, to merely place a letter in their mailbox?

In a dark alley, he watched the mailbox. It was the point he would get caught, if at all., The black cat pranced without a care past him, the piece of chicken bobbing heavily in his jaws. His nostrils sniffed as many others joined his feline scent, and he looked up to find a small gang of glowing golden orbs above him. They mewed and pattered down behind a dumpster, and feasted on the chicken together.

Ari smiled at their smacking lips, thinking that it was a worthy hunt after all, and that he should find some friends like that. Others added to the feline pot, but none so richly as the black one. None of them ate before they saw their pack. He took out his letter one last time, and read it through.

Mama and Papa,

I am sorry I haven't talked with you. It is hard to begin any other way with this letter. You deserve better from your son. The army has been like Papa said it would be; taking pieces of me and offering a poor replacement part. I don't want you to worry, but I won't lie. I am in trouble. But it's ok; I can take care of myself. I have left the army, because of Papas thing. But also because of something else. It's no use to tell you everything, but something is changing me, from the inside. 

I'm not sure if it is for the good, but I think it might be. I love you. I miss you. I promise I will talk more, but it will be hard for awhile. Im hoping to join something for the right reasons, this time. You couldn't be proud of what I have done, with resentment in my heart. This time you will see my work, and you will say, 'He is mine.' Forgive me for not listening. I will contact you soon. Look for the untraceable number.

Love,
Ari

The old letter he folded, streaked as it was with rare tears. To unbox his childhood felt like tearing out stitches before they were ready. Now that he had read it, he longed to risk the Vegas wrath, and simply knock on the door. He bribed a mischievous young man to drop it in the mailbox, and turned from the scene.

He found a dilapidated old bed and breakfast, the kind middle class tourists like, but thought better of it when he looked at his wallet. Instead, in the darkness, he deftly climbed hand over fist a drain-pipe, and swung over the ledge of a flat roof. Right here, he would sleep in the warm summer night. Looking up, the stars were grotesquely faded in the light pollution of the city, but the skyline was lovely. He unrolled his sleeping back, and laid back, with a brick for a pillow. It was comfortable enough, and free. Sleep came quickly.

The sensation in the dream was intense, for all his rainy sentry duty was boring in every other respect. Five of the pack, bounding athletically over the crest of a hill. A gazzele, trailing a pungent crimson spatter, fell before them. And then another, a hungry, lonely dog, with nothing to eat.

His camouflaged face regarded the thought, and spoke feebly in its human tongue in response. "Yes. I want it. Show me. Show me the pack."

A black wolf emerged, looking fierce and wise. "You. Do you come at night, because it is easy for you?" Amused, he sent an image of Ari himself, stalking amidst the stars in some forgotten jungle. "I know. Are you one of my pack?" In response, he simply ran. Without saying, it was implied; he chased after Night Hunter, and they played in this way. But just as present was the implication that they were going somewhere.

Marta had been entering the dream alone.  In reality, neither Ricky nor Elyse could do anything about it.  The thirteen year old girl was growing though, and ever since talking with Hayden, she had been headstrong. Elyse had been worried, but Marta knew the dangers of the dream, and at the very least always went with Splash; however, it made it so Elyse would have to become more familiar with the dream.  The girl was quickly outpacing her.

Elyse entered the dream and headed to the woods outside of Moscow. A familiar scent came to her before she saw the message from the wolf. She smiled as she got the greeting from Stinging Nose. Silent Fang...

Elyse turned to see her former wolf companion approach.  Stinging Nose had felt a higher calling and was now alpha of one of the packs surrounding Moscow, but in the dream, he greeted her alone. More images came to her mind.  Images of Marta and Splash, running through the woods, following each other.  No not following - chasing.  Marta had learned how to move quickly in the dream by following Splash's scent. It was an amazing trick.  One that Elyse had not mastered.  The girl was half her age and was picking this stuff up quickly.

"Is Windsong in the Dream?" Elyse asked Stinging Nose.

Stinging Nose's response was negative.  Elyse nodded.  It meant nothing to the wolf, but it was a habit from when she was with people. Marta wasn't here, so it would give Elyse sometime to catch up.  She assumed that was why Stinging Nose had come.  She had assumed correctly.  Stinging Nose disappeared from her sight with a flash.  Elyse knew how this game worked though.  Elyse sniffed the air, finding the familiar scent of Stinging Nose.  She followed and upon arrival, the wolf left.  Elyse followed again, each time, Stinging Nose leaving faster until when she arrived he was no longer there. Still she followed, able to follow Stinging Nose's scent to the next spot - always heading southwest.

Night Hunter was swift, and he left few traces. Perhaps fewer, with the logic of the dream. With every moment he became more private Luektra, who needed no rank to be happy. Clothes darkened and sprouted magazines. A helmet flashed in and out of existence, as he both forgot and remembered that his nose gave him more than the HUD. But weapons, always the weapons. And a light step. 

For a moment, he lost Night Hunter, but for the snap of a twig, or a rustle of leaves. He told him with these playful games that if he could not follow, he didn't deserve to find what he was looking for. Northwards, forever. In a bound he leapt the crimea, and Ari lost him for a split second behind a stand of hills obstructing the Azov river valley. 

He caught him standing stock still overlooking Moscow, the forests blanketing the city like a cocoon, the life giving river splitting the formation. Ari grinned, joyously predatory, having won the game. You give up too soon. Such a friend sleeps hungry. But then his nostrils flared. The woods were alive with kin. They seethed with packs. Ari inhaled sharply. A few times before, he had smelled a pack. But the Army was his first master. Now he buffeted about, this way and that, without him. Night Hunter sent a potent image, of Ari running an open plain, with the countless multitude. They rounded the crest of the hill like a sea. And another scent too, kin, but human.

Aris brows furrowed. He hadn't met another before.Who is she? It's not that simple for us.Confused, he sent back the same image of the wider pack. And then trotted haughtily in her direction. Ari stepped lightly as ever. Whoever it was, he wanted the jump. Only a fool wouldn't, for Ari wanted to be ready to meet his first predator in this strange world. Perhaps he had smelled one for the first time. Night Hunter mocked his suspicion as he sank into the brush like a ghost.

He could be right, thought Ari. It was no use wanting a pack if, as a scared rabbit runs to the burrow, he hides from everything interesting. That it might be a threat was no excuse. They had doubled back, taking great, stealthy leaps, this time southwest, until they chased her. If she can smell like me, then she will know I am here.

Elyse finally arrived in the same glade that Stinging Nose had been in. The wolf had stayed here, images were sent to her of a man, golden eyed and armed, now following her. Her lips curled into a snarl. The fact that this man seemed to be hunting her brought back memories. Memories still fresh of her father; her father who couldn't see past her golden eyes to love his only child. A father who's dedication to a secret society was stronger than his bond with his daughter.

Anger rose within her, but it wasn't the anger of the wolf. Elyse found herself glad that Anna had helped her discover what family meant again. She was glad she had Kallisti, Nox's brood, and Rachel. Her thoughts went to Rachel, a girl who was still hurting from her own demons. It was Rachel who kept the wolf at bay. Regardless, the anger was still there. With a thought her clothes shifted to her hunting gear - all black. Her Desert Eagle lay at her side and her crossbow appeared in her hands with a quiver of bolts on her back. They were manifestations of the dream, and even though she no longer had access to them in the waking world, they felt comfortable in her hands.

Elyse turned so she was no longer being chased. She would meet her follower head on. Stinging Nose came to her side and together they shifted. She appeared and saw him. Her own golden eyes stared into his. Elyse's face showed anger, but her weapon was not aimed at the other. Instead she held it in a defensive posture. She didn't want to fight, and she certainly didn't want to fight here. She sent an image to Stinging Nose, telling him to run if he raised the gun. Stinging Nose on the other hand was sending images to the newcomer, telling him not to shoot.

"Do. Not. Hunt. Me." Elyse finally said to the man, accentuating every word. Being hunted would be scary for anyone. For Elyse, it was an emotional trigger.

She kept to the shadows, never crossing into the pups' territory. Only her Pets dared the borders, skirting the edges like smoke on the wind. Unseen, but always present.

From her perch of the Dream, she watched the pups' interaction. It should have made her smile. Instead, it tugged at something buried deep, something old.

She longed to draw closer.

But the bond with her own Pets held her back.

Her Pets were wary, ancient things, and they despised the yellow-eyed ones. And their dislike was more than mere instinct. It was memory. It was blood.

So she watched, but did not touch.

   The woman was unphased, as a stone stops an axe. He slowed, before he was damaged. Her scent was obscured behind a warriors mask, and she smelled like a foe who would not be taken lightly. He felt self conscious, and remembered the mockery of Night Hunter. It would be his burden, to present no arms now.

Like a beginner, his clothing flickered and morphed with his moods. With uncharacteristic sheepishness, his large rifle, built for war, disappeared. Sidearms and fatigues left him in favor of jeans and a Grecian football jersey from twenty years ago. It made a discordant appearance with his utility harness, full of flash bangs and knives and compasses. He held up his arms in peace, but his camouflage remained.

"I will not shoot, stranger. My nature is to look first, I am sorry." He regarded her with interest, and they stood far apart, Ari beneath a ridge. Her advantage was not at all insubstantial. "Here, in this dream, you are comfortable. I've never seen another one like me. And that probably means... That I came here for you. I tire of hunting alone." His accent had softened from its Turkish roots after ten martial years, and the bewilderment of new kin, but still held that particular flavor. The face paint flickered, but the weapons continued to fade. 

He looked at her and memorized her smells, guarded as they were. Pain, muted by her alert demeanor, was hinted in the amalgamation. A younger version of himself might pay more attention to her attractiveness than the martial threat she posed. At least assault Team Vega could purge one type of foolishness, although it may or may not save him from her wrath. 

Elyse calmed at the man’s words. Her anger, guided by recent pains, was perhaps a bit hasty. Her anger faded, leaving the pain behind. Still, the man was a soldier. That was clear and he did seem sorry to have startled her. Her crossbow disappeared at her silent command and the desert eagle on her hip soon followed. She didn’t want to fight, but she didn’t want to be hunted either, and he had followed her like a soldier - like a predator chasing prey.

”If you came here to hunt you did not come here looking for me. I’m not a hunter. Not anymore.”

He had said she was comfortable in this dream. She wasn’t. She didn’t like being here. The nightmares she had when she was with Nox were still fresh in her mind even if that was long ago. She was here to make sure she could help Marta, even though it seemed the girl was more likely to help her. The man in front of her was still new here though. He couldn’t keep his clothing together. She wasn’t willing to bet he had no idea how much danger he was in.

”I don’t think you’re ready to hunt here either. Are you aware of how dangerous this place is? Any injury here will go to your body. If you die here, you die there. On top of this, the same rules don’t apply here. And there are people here who could harm you with a thought. They don’t need weapons to do it.” Elyse seemed to sense a presence watching them, and it seemed strangely familiar even if she couldn’t place it.

”Do you understand what you are? Do you understand the danger you are to yourself? I’ve seen what happens when people like us do not. I’ve seen them lose themselves. I think you have much to learn before you start hunting.” through the whole speech, her voice was calm, but her questions were pointed. She had no idea if he understood or not. She had almost lost herself to the wolf once. It was miraculous that it hadn’t happened when the threat of her father had been taken away.

Not a hunter? He wondered skeptically at that. Still he watched her carefully. Even now, he didn't like being in the open like this. But it was too interesting to run, even if he could. She knew all about everything, apparently. Weapons flickered threateningly as she mentioned the predators, for all they could do against a thought. But they didn't appear in his hands. 

He stood stock still as his thoughts whirled about his person, like small moons orbiting a planetary body, and disappearing for a time. Briefly, his rifle became a super soaker, then, a wide bronze aspis, bearing an eagle with outstretched wings. Night Hunter stepped boldy forward into the open, and sat at his side. He sent the image of a young cub, watching his father run with the hunting party. 

"I have been down the wild path. Now, I am coming back." He paused laconically. His heart thumped, because he was dead to rights. But the weapons faded frantically, desiring to be holstered. The threat wasn't from her, as she offered only a warning. And getting the jump was a fantasy, if she told him true. "If you know so much, then you are who I am looking for. Even if you do not hunt."

Night Hunter lifted his paw, and sent her the image; a cobra who waited behind a drift of sand for the perfect ambush. His wordless name. "The Wordless ones speak of them to me. I can only come here when I think of home before bed. Outside, I am not so vulnerable." He regarded her with matter of fact coldness, but betrayed a scent of hope. "If predators wait, then a pack is better. We will make prey of them." He smiled nervously.

The man frightened her, not because she was scared of what he could do to her, but she had to wonder if the wolf had somehow taken hold of him. He still remembered that he was human. She wondered how much of that the military had beaten out of him. He was not so far gone as the wolf in the cage had been; a wolf in human shell. Thinking of that reminded her of Denmark. Even that brought pain. Even if she felt fear, the pain was the stronger of the two things she felt. Elyse formed a campfire in her mind, solidly and put it into the clearing before sitting down in front of it.

”I know very little here,” she said, staring at the flames. ”I know enough to know how little I know. I know enough to keep myself safe, and I know how to get out. I will not stop you from hunting, but I will not join if you do. But if you want to learn the basics, I will try to teach what I know. she continued to stare at the flames.

”Wolfkin like us - we have keen eyesight and sense of smell. We can talk to the wolves and they can talk to us, but there’s more. Inside - there is “the wolf”. It is strong and it is primal. It longs for the hunt - to chase and to kill. We have to remember our humanity. We are not wolves. We are humans. To forget this is to lose ourselves. Ive seen this. It isn’t pleasant.”

She looked up at him, his clothing shifting. ”Picture yourself in your mind - make it clear and solid. Then the clothes shifting will stop. Tell me your name. Your real name - not the one the wolves gave you.” she had gotten the name from the wolf called night hunter. She nodded her head to the other side of the fire, offering him a spot. ”The wolves call me Silent Fang, but my name is Elyse. Then tell me of home.”

It had been the man who had spoken of home. And home could remind him of his humanity. It did for Elyse anyway. But that was where her family was. The hodge podge group of people that was family now. She stared back into the flames and they reflected in her golden eyes. She thought of them - Marta, Kallisti, the kids, Liv, Liam, Hayden, Nox, and Anna. She thought of Rachel too - the crush itself seeming odd. It reminded her of Anna’s crush on Cade and her insistence that she didn’t have one. Even if a few tears came from Elyse’s eyes, she smiled at that. It was the little things that made you human.

His clothing solidified as he took her advice. The Grecian jersey might have been juvenile, but it was the last thing he might have worn before he became in essence the property of the state. He kept his rifle, though; slung casually on his back. So much of his training had made it inseparable from him, even within his own identity. He met her eyes as she spoke, but she delved into the flames and showed him only the tip of her iceberg with her words.

She had the scent of agony. Ari knew better than to pry, for now. "I am Aristomenes. But Ari is easier." He listened carefully to her words, like a rookie who wished to survive his first few missions. "Silent Fang, I like that. But now I will call you Elyse, like a human." He sat at the fire and attempted a disarming demeanor. With care and muscle memory, he checked the safety, and leaned the rifle on a log he hadn't noticed that he conjured.

"I have seen that the wolves do not understand that part of us. They were happy to let me... Well..." He trailed off, knowing that recounting his past wasn't very good for peaceful campfires. But it was too late to retract it. "...Get lost in the hunt. But they mocked my loneliness as ineffective. You disparage your knowledge humbly. But it is divine for me." 

The warmth from the fire washed over them, Night Hunter wagging his tail at his side. "Istanbul is my home. But I haven't been back. I mean, I left them a letter, but it was dangerous to go inside. My father probably wouldn't even mock me for returning, though we fought when we spoke last. He didn't want the CCD to make a soldier of me, and he ended up being right." He averted his eyes, in shame regarding how deeply he had failed his parents. "...I think he would be proud that I am talking to you now. It means... I am still a man. And not a beast, or a machine if you like."

He saw how she was lost in her own memories, and how they tore at her. Here, around these campfires, humans had spilled their hearts since dawn first gained a name; even before iron had been beaten into a spear point. "I would hear of your home, too. But if it hurts too much, I will wait." He spoke with unassuming matter of factness, and thought nothing of his assumption that they would see each other again. He wondered if his eagerness to make a friend made him appear desperate. If it did, it wasn't inaccurate.