Memoirs of an Immortal Book One: The Curse of Immortality

Chapter One: The Festival of Moons

Nidure.

"Hmm?"

You've been drifting off again.

"So was my intent, Iunon." Realizing then that he was vocalizing his thoughts, Nidure mentally said to him, The Festival of Moons is hardly eventful.

Hardly? Hmph. Only you would think such. If you voiced those sentiments to your fellow guardsmen...

I meant that my duties as a guard are unnecessary here. The most that should ever happen is the naked drunkard dancing to "The Court of the Lone Wolf".

Iunon said nothing but looked up at him in response, the look in his gray eyes eliciting a chuckle from Nidure. The wolf ferociously shook his dark gray coat then as if in the attempt to shake off the image.

Both man and wolf-spirit were calmly observing the festivities. The wolf-spirits of children were chasing each other through the crowds, pups that barked incessantly and playfully nipped at the heels of passersby. The children soon followed, laughing merrily and disappearing quickly within the throngs. A break in the crowd revealed a brawling contest taking place; an audience had gathered to watch and cheer on the wolfmen that had assumed their lupine forms and were now snarling and snapping at each other. Any foreigner would have presumed them to be ordinary wolves.

You should have entered, said Iunon, nodding towards the brawl.

For what purpose, exactly? Nidure asked with a raised brow.

The wolf blinked. Need there be a purpose besides the pleasure of winning and proving your superiority, Nidure?

Only a wolf would think such simplistic thoughts.

Yes, and only a wolfman like yourself would understand our simplicity.

As a grin was threatening to break upon Nidure's face, a voice muttered behind him, "Have you seen that hag raising her army of zealots?"

He turned his head to look into the striking blue eyes of a man. He smiled slightly. "I fear I don't know what 'hag' you speak of, Howler. But it certainly sounds like a cause for alarm."

Howler snorted. "More like a cause for annoyance," he said, fingering the scabbard at his hip absentmindedly. "She's Arach. Not Luperan. The Festival of Moons has always been a Luperan festival. Why, then, do we allow other Shadonans to perform for us? They know not our customs, Shadeswolf!"

He felt mildly curious. "What does she speak?" he asked.

Howler raised his arms to the sky in outrage. "But that is just it! Listen to this madwoman's storytelling!" He indicated to a gathering several yards off. An older woman stood upon a platform, her tanned and expressive face accentuated by the firelight. One did not have to see her animal spirit to know she was Arach, for anyone could tell by the brightly-dyed wraps and the webbed shawl she wore. She shouted unintelligible things that any human ear would not have caught amidst the torrent of laughter and chatter from the throngs. But the Luperans had the keen ears of wolves, and so Nidure focused on her voice and listened.

"We are the Seven Tribes of Shadonoir!" the storyteller cried out in a riveting voice only one of her talents could possess. Her audience responded with prideful shouts and exclamations. "We are the Luperans-" A great number of Luperans howled fervently, "-the Araki-" There was another collection of shouts, albeit smaller, "-the Vyserin-"

"Veldrauna spare me," Howler said, running a hand through his shaggy fair hair as he shook his head. "She's been at this for an hour now, recounting historical epics that are not particularly Luperan."