Chapter 14:
The trees went by at superspeed, as different environs flew by.
I looked out of the window, which was locked because of the rain, memories filling my head.
As the car sped on, my mind drifted back to certain events that had occurred within the last six weeks of Ralph's death...
***6 weeks ago***
The earth was almost silent, mourning the death of her beloved son.
The only sounds to be heard was the mournful chirping of the birds, a sorrowful song on their beaks, as they flocked to the tree beside which, on a crude stretcher made of bamboo sticks, and wrapped all over with a thick grey woolen blanket, lay Ralph's body, now cleaned thoroughly.
His father stood beside me, as did my complete pack - David, OS, Destiny, and Odera.
A hundred flaming torches had been lit, burning on iroko brands, lighting up the way to the site of the final burial rites of our beloved pack member.
We observed in silence, the agony of death, the thrill of life, and the balance of nature in all things.
Nothing escaped death, nothing.
An oversized crow cried thrice, and we all stood still, chanting the last honors of a Grey Blood before he/ she was cremated.
Yes, we did it old school.
"Honoramus, vita et mors honoramus, recipis optimum honoramus statim occurrit iterum honoramus mors est finis."
With heavy eyes and burdened souls, Dave and I lifted the keg of petrol, doused it on the body, while Odera and OS lifted the makeshift burial pyre, at the same time Destiny nocked an arrow with cloth wrapped around its barbed tip to the bow.
Ralph's dad stood still, shaking with unshed tears. It was a taboo to shed tears during the Sacred Rites.
By now, the body was placed into the proper miniature ship, made after the Viking model, complete with the upward curved helm.
After charcoal and more petrol were added to the pyre, we looked expectantly at Mr Imade, his hands shaking with grief as he held the bow and nocked arrow, training it on the pyre which lay half submerged in water, half on land.
He convulsed once more, then his back straightened up, his hands gripping the bow expertly.
"Farewell, my dear son," he whispered, firing the arrow high into the sky.
We all watched it silently, following it's graceful crescent, then at its peak, it seemed to pause, expectantly, then fall back down, tip down, into the pyre, landing straight in the midpoint of Ralph's overlapping fingers.
We watched the flames kindle up, instantly brightening the dark Riverside.
At the borders of our small semicircle, the flames danced on the faces of my new half-pack, those won by contest, a good half of the Redwolfs.
YOU ARE READING
THE DARK ALPHA'S CURSE
WerewolfA powerful alpha, leader of the most powerful park, though numerically small, but boasts the fiercest warriors who would never back down in a fight. Secrets are spilled, even more than the blood they shed, as everyone suspects the dark alpha to...
