The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 33: A Story

Chapter 33: A Story

MOON

In the streets of Bolem, the great capital of the Arctic North, a very tall man with a cloak concealing his features, slithered through the shadows. While his imposing figure didn’t exactly make him inconspicuous, something about the way he moved like a lethal thing made each and everyone that stumbled on his way to avoid him.

Those who knew him on friendly terms called him Yaren. While those who were unfortunate enough to have acquired him as an enemy called him Yama—the god of death.

In the streets, a vicarious storyteller had set up a stall that gathered a crowd of tens. His voice loud like a whiplash, he told a peculiarly strange story. And the crowd about him listened with ears itching for a good gossip.

"It is said that when the moon goddess ascended to the moon, she left us a promise...."

The crowd stretched, leaning in closer to have the full entertainment of the storytellers dramatic tellings.

"...that she will come back to us on the ship of the Iron Coast in the west, riding through the GreenLands of the east as her sea of green, the Mountains of the Central Lands as her steed, the Desert of the South as her fuel. Then here at the North where eternal snow falls, she shall appoint the Great Beast Wolf who shall become her eternal guard...."

There was a dramatic pause as the intro to the story submerged its listeners.

"Many predicted that the Great Beast Wolf shall ascend from the ancient line of the Arctic Wolf. Centuries, powerful seers and prophets debated it. But if I were to tell you, my dear listeners, that the wind of the North has changed, what say you?"

The audience gasped dramatically. A boy, not more than ten passed around a bag, and eagerly, the listeners threw in copper coins to secure their spot in what would prove to be a most amazing tale. The cloaked man paused by the stall. As if contemplating whether to stay and hear the joke of a story, reaching to a conclusion, he tossed a coin into the bag.

The storyteller, obviously satisfied with the enthusiasm of his audience, continued mysteriously. "Twenty-fours ago, the moon goddess chose to be reborn on the day when the blood crescent moon hung in the sky."

"Where was she born?!" Someone screamed from the crowds. Many hushed the man responsible for daring to interrupt the tale.

With a dramatic flare of his hand, the storyteller continued animatedly. "As the prophecies predicted, she was born of not one heritage. To a father from the Iron Coast in the West, and a mother of dual heritage from the Mountains of the central lands and the Deserts of the South. And then, riding the GreenLands as her sea, the reincarnation grew in a foreign land."

The cloaked man frowned at the story. Of all their investigations of the ’Great Seer’, they never got to discover her true origins. It would seem the storyteller had made up that part.

"But you see, her origins are not as important as the destiny on her shoulders. For eighteen years after her birth, the moon goddess reincarnated with the blood of four regions running in her veins journeyed to the Arctic North to appoint the great beast wolf!"

The audience swallowed, and although it was a particularly familiar tale, the perspective enticed them.

"That night..." the storyteller continued, gazing up to the blank night sky mysteriously, "the crescent moon too hung in the sky. Physically blind as she was, her staff of power pointed to Lord Daemon NorthSteed saying, ’it is you...’"

At this point, the storyteller’s voice had grown lower, taking an otherworldly hue to it. The audience attempted to lean in closer as if it were possible. "’It must be you who shall quell the arising rogues for the Great Beast Wolf that prowls in you to show itself. If you remain here, death shall meet you, and greatness shall abandon you.’"

Surprisingly, the cloaked man did not show the anger he ordinarily would have at the face of the lies that were spewed. Words that would have ordinarily sent him flying to intense rage actually had him think hard as his half-brother would reach him.

In his thoughts, he found it strange that such a storyteller had managed to gather a crowd of a little over a hundred and was telling a tale that would have his head hanging should the Epsilons in charge of the Night Guard find him. It almost felt like someone set the man up to his actions. For what other reason would he have to seek death so precariously.

"The reincarnation left a prophecy!" The storyteller screamed, pointing a paddle at the audience which was supposed to be disguised as a staff, "the time of the Arctic Wolf is nigh, and the Direwolf shall take his place!" He exclaimed in a caricature of a deadly feminine voice.

The crowd gasped, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the story was going. At that point, an ordinary story had morphed into something that resembled treason. And yet, none of them left. Anticipation and suspense overriding ordinary reason.

"Does this mean the Arctic Wolf will no longer rule the north?!" A woman screamed her question.

A man interrupted, asking. "A better question is, does this mean Lord Daemon NorthSteed is a Direwolf? The Great Beast Wolf?!"

"Ah!" Another scoffed, "Lord Daemon just became a level two Lycan Wolf Shifter. I am afraid a Direwolf is way too supreme and nonexistent for him to acquire!"

"Do you underestimate the powers of the Great Seer?! I hear she has eyes as jaded as the world! A beauty that surpasses the stars, and hair like a sheen of the moon! Such a woman foretold the Great Famine saving us from death, if she says Lord Daemon is the Direwolf then that is what he is!"

Many grumbled their agreement with the last words. If not for the Great Seer, the Theta of the NorthSteed pack, how could they have survived till that moment? When the famine swept through the lands earlier that year, they would have all died from hunger if not that she foretold the great famine three years ago and precautions were taken.

It was indeed true that they doubted her when Prince Daemon was accused a traitor and banished, but now it turned out the Great Seer had a great plan, that was fine. They owed her their life after all! Never again would they doubt her!

Just at that moment, a man approached them and screamed. "The Epsilons are coming!"

Commotion ensued as everyone attempted to scamper to safety. The cloaked man receded into the shadows, carefully observing the movements of the storyteller who quickly packed his coins, overturning the stall, and fleeing to a suspicious alley.

Yaren drew his hood closer. He debated it for some time, and then decided to follow the storyteller. He was pressed for time, but knew that his sojourn might produce some results, for no matter how much he thought about it, the storyteller was highly suspicious.

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