The Broken Crown

A Thousand Conversations

The world continues to evolve, creating new stories to tell, new lives to celebrate, and new traditions to partake in. Compared to the traditions of the past kingdom which my parents grew up in, the new traditions which my generation has been brought up around have felt forced upon us, made to seem overly important and more value placed upon them than there actually should be. I understand the tradition of Alpha Ceremonies, how they last through the night with blood oaths from the new pack leader, I am comfortable with the customs that occur when someone meets their mate, and other traditions which have been around in our society for centuries. These older traditions make sense, they hold a critical piece of werewolf culture within them and brings the werewolf community closer together. These new traditions are like the werewolf community as a whole in this region is trying to reshape.

The last war which lasted for several months was one which caused these new traditions to be born into existence. Those who created the traditions saw it as a way to try and mend broken treaties between the packs remaining, to bring those who survived closer together, but the new traditions still leave a bitter taste in many Alpha's mouths. There used to be over one hundred packs, ranging from large and powerful to small and relying on other packs for aid. Now, twenty years after the war, there are nine packs remaining in North America where the Alpha King used to preside. 

The weaker packs were either killed off, were absorbed into others, or dissolved as the members became rogues and adapted to the human world. Only the strongest remain from the war and I consider my family very lucky to still be part of a pack, to experience the traditional values a pack has, to be raised in a werewolf community, and to not fear being different or fear being killed off in the human world.  

Those packs which remained after the war are here tonight, gathered for one of the new traditions, taking place in the dead of winter. The music, desserts, and drinks all make for a happy evening, but there are still bitter packs, perhaps plotting to attack another pack any moment after this celebration - a celebration of peace. 

"Beautiful night," I state, looking over my shoulder to spot my mother standing in the archway of the balcony. A blanket of snow covers the grounds below, the gardens left bare by the winter as the fountains are frozen over and the bushes trimmed short. 

"Try and converse with the others your age from other packs." 

I know what my mother is trying to do here, for it is common for packs to try and get young members to form romantic bonds with one another - especially members from important pack families - allowing for treaties to be made by packs. My father is the Delta of Evercrest Ridge, the head warrior who leads over two hundred warriors to protect our pack. Meanwhile my mother is best friends with the Luna of our pack, the two of them combined making me enough of an influence that if I were to make a connection tonight with someone, our pack would try and extend out a treaty. 

"I would rather save my flirting for someone who can take an awkward conversation," I comment, reminding her that I am not someone to place a bet on tonight. Yet this is one of the only nights for members of other packs to converse, otherwise it is only Alphas. 

"Give it a try, someone may be a good match for you below," mom remarks, nudging my shoulder as we look back to the party a floor below, everyone dressed in the traditional colors of navy and silver, adding elegance to the party. My own navy dress blends right into the theme, an off the shoulder piece which sweeps the floor and my mother described earlier as an 'effortlessly beautiful dress.' With my heels clicking against the wooden floor, I make my way down the stairs, brushing a loose strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear as my eyes scan the crowd before me.

I find myself gravitating towards the back of a room filled with older books, my eyes looking out the tall windows, watching the party attendees who arrive late. A couple of pack members pack greet me as they pass by to a sitting area, commenting on my dress as I offer them a soft smile.