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Saturday, 24 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Veronica de Poison


Hello, my name is Veronica and I'm going to tell you what happened a long time ago. It was under a full moon when I cast a magic spell on thousands. That is, I created the secret club of werewolf ladies. It was spun in the garden next to a pond, with a silver cobweb, silver bowl containing my own blood from my finger, and a pouch of dried leaves. I couldn't do this as a wolf, as I am a wolf. I had to become a human for this task. I did this on behalf of my ancestral father, the misunderstood Fenrir himself.
My family have a library in the tower. It is always cosy and warm in there and since childhood I've often gone in there to read books. There are many countless books on all of the shelves, most of which I haven't touched. I came across a few books on my family tree, on my family estate, land, then books on alchemy and witchcraft.
My parents didn't really want me in there but as I became adolescent, they believed it would help stimulate my education if I studied in the library. In a way it's true but I wanted to research the magic arts, and to play with the idea that I could be a sorceress.
I would not describe myself as this. I'm a gentlewoman by nature, with one hereditary form of magic that comes with no will or control: shapeshifting by the power of the full moon. I've been changing into a wolf since the age of twelve. My parents, my brother and cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents all have this. But my mother wanted me to find out a way to control this and stay in human form during the full moon. She was able to do this, because she understood how to make a strong brew with raw ingrediants. She wouldn't pass this knowledge onto me.
She said:
"Veronica, listen. I taught myself the art of controlling the inner wolf. You can teach yourself how to tame the coming of your inner wolf."
"How am I supposed to do that if you won't share your brew with me?" I asked.
"By spending time in the library reading, studying and listening."
I spent years reading the witch books and nothing helped.
So one day, I gave up the idea and let the full moon change me to a wolf each time.
Then I was becoming more fascinated by researching my ancestry. I located some royal families from legendary Ville d'Ys and Gevaudan. My ancestor of Gevaudan was the evil wolf beast who terrorised people. He met a sticky end but then, in the 18th Century, his grandson was rumoured to be another such wolf beast. When my ancestors became such monsters of Gervaudan, they resembled very large wolves with black fur and red eyes.
Fortunately, my relatives and I don't appear very large as that. We're the size of alsation dogs, and have been mistaken for those. Our eyes appear green and our fur is golden as a harvest moon. As wolves, we don't want to scare people. I refuse to even hunt animals like the poor rabbits that live in the parks. When I'm wolf, I like to run, sing, experience the wind, forest, trees, water and sky.
But when I was doing this research, I found myself looking at the references books and opened big posters and scrolls leading back to thousands of years. Then I found my ultimate ancestor:
Fenrir.
In this shock, I confided in my sweet mother, who said:
"Yes, you're a descendant of Fenrir the wolf god from your father's lineage."
My father was often a very strict man, he was far from being a monster or a beast. As a wolf, he commanded respect and we all followed him into the woods. He kept us in check. He was the alpha in the pack. Not just the family pack, mind you. The extended pack for werewolves in the town, villages and outskirts. In France, there are more packs but we don't interefere with them.
In my quest to understand how to control my inner wolf, I ended up studyong my family tree. Then I learned about all of the werewolf packs in France and other countries. I decided to read about these packs who seem adorable. Each pack has its own crest, but there are those in some countries that do not. They are either new or disbanded. But the older packs are symbolised.
My father is alpha werewolf of the Tourmaline Night pack. This pack is about three hundred years old and with a resting black silhouette wolf, encircled with white evening primrose flowers.
He was evasive about Fenrir when I spoke of it to him. Father was very strong and used to serve in the army when he was young. There is a glass wardrobe in his smoking room that displays his blue and white uniform. Now he is a businessman and industrialist, but our chalet is in the countryside, away from the factories, trains, automobiles and city.
I couldn't resist wanting to form my own pack, that wasn't a pack. I decided to call it Fenrir's Daughters, because it consisted of myself and female relations at the beginning. Afterall my ancestor was the powerful wolf god. I wanted to expand the club, and include women and girl werewolves from the Tourmaline Night pack as well. That is so we can exchange ideas, cooking tips, wisdom and stories, and to help eachother. Some of the women of my father's pack were escaping domestic violence and I wanted my club to be a place they can also seek help. With my club, I was able to assist women and children of werewolf families in poverty.
I and my family wanted to expand Fenrir's Daughters membership to other packs, and wider France, then outside. Now it is worldwide and I feel proud of being a forum where female werewolves can come and chat with us.
From this, I was able to meet women werewolves from all over the world and listen to them. I discovered how to control the shapeshifting just simply by making friends with these wonderful wolf women. My brother and father were so impressed by the sheer energy and power I invest in the club that I permitted a secondary club for the men. It's called "Fenrir's Sons" and my brother is in charge of that one.

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
 

Friday, 16 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Pearl Chono (Part 3: Pearl Sword)

The moon glared through the clouds, as sword slashed at armour. By midnight, the moon has vanished behind thick clouds of ash and smoke but there was a lingering stench of blood.
Cold white charred remains of the wooden huts like powder dried her sword. All around were the bodies of dead warriors. She was only defending herself.
Pearl climbed the steep hill, to find the sword that belonged to her mother. It had broke in an earlier battle. Now she used her own, made by a former lover who made weapons. It was just for her, and out of love, he welded an innocent gemstone from the Tenggis Sea into the hilt.
Everything she owned was broken except for the sweet loving pearl sword. Pearl buried her mother's sword quickly under the soil. Her mother was named Song. The pearl sword was often worn at her bloodied leather belt.
A warrior woman of the forest, trained by masters of the broadsword in the hills, Pearl was the survivor of plague infested towns and villages that she'd lived in for all her thirtyone years. As a teenager, her adoptive family, all her friends and neighbours were killed by plague. Plague rodents poisoned the streams and crops. There were no remaining villagers or townspeople left. She journeyed South and came to Lake Bajkal where she encountered the warriors and swordsmen, who helped her. They later perished of the plague and she was unable to stay there amongst all of the dead. She chose to flee Southwards, in journey of the mysterious "prince" where she felt destined to meet. As a childm she encountered a goddess who told her to do this. She made sure that she never starved to death by consuming whatever she could, and as a wolf during the full moon, this is what she did. Driven by hunger, she struck down lone travellers, animal or human.
Men attacked her, even when she was in her wolf form and was always the winner. As a woman she slay them with her pearl sword. The men left wounds in her body that was deeper than flesh, and she felt dazed for months. Despite that she lived.
Pearl found a burned village, where soldiers had plundered earlier. The people of the village were all dead, some had died of plague. She remembered when men assaulted her before, and felt an intense pain. This was a terrible memory of her giving birth to a stillborn infant, a boy, who was never meant to be in this dark bloody world.
Named after the beautiful stone inside a sea shell that her mother Song found. Swords captured her imagination ever since childhood, when they were happier times with her mother.
Pearl grew into a hardened swordswoman with the training of martial artists. She developed her own intuition of Wolf Seeing without any other human knowing about this. She could see in the dark. She could hear for miles. She could identify someone's emotions without them saying anything. She could smell when illness and plague had started to infect another. She remembered when, as a child, she made her own bow and arrows, and showed this to her mother.
One day, Pearl entered a library in a semi deralict town, and learned about shamanism, the Blue Wolf, gods and spirits of the earth. It was here in this godforsaken place that she found a man in fine golden clothes. He was handsome, young, strong, but dying.
His blood covered sword lay on the floor next to him.
"Woman! Don't stay here!!!" he cried, but he grimaced in agony.
She went to him with a small cup of water.
"Who are you, sir?" she asked.
"I'm a Mongolian prince," he said. "I was attacked in the street by a rabid wolf."
"Rabies and plague are killing everything I love!" Pearl cried. Her mother, adopted family, friends, lover and now her prince. 
 "If I don't make it promise me that you'll take my sword?" he asked.
Pearl was sad and wept.
The prince died there and Pearl couldn't take his sword. She left the sword next to him and covered both the prince and his sword with a blanket.
"You belong with the sword and can carry it with you into the next life," she said.
Wolves howled in the distance.
 "My name is Pearl, but I belong in the forest and the sky," she said, remembering the words of Asena the goddess. "I remember you prince, last night..." when she had been a wolf... then became a woman. Her mouth foamed again. The fever was coming.
She left the library and disappeared among sparks and floating ash from the funeral fires. Her journey was uncertain but she was only a survivor in a dark landscape.     

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.

Thursday, 1 September 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Pearl Chono (Part 2: The first time)



The wind carried death through the streets. Pearl was in her seventeenth year by then, on the tragic night death struck the village. At first it looked like clouds of black smoke. Then these plumes had eyes, and looked like dancers dressed in black hooded cloaks. She watched them from a window and stared in horror.
The following morning, her foster carers, an elderly couple who had always looked after her since they found her alone in the forest as small ten year old, were struck by a severe illness. Their flesh erupted in red spots, and they couldn't move.She tried feeding them but they weren't hungry or thirsty.
They died. Pearl wasn't ill, and everyone else in the village were poorly. They all became sick in exactly the same way. It was a plague. A seventeen year old Pearl grieved, and she hadn't cried that much since her own mother died years earlier.
She couldn't stay, and gathered her things. She walked along a narrow path, moving South towards the misted hills. Pearl stopped when the moon came up. She was about to sleep under a willow tree, when something caught her breath. She fell to the grass and held her stomach as pain soared throughout her. Her vision turned red. In a long agonising hour, she wanted to forget pain, and escape the illness. It caught up with her and no one was here to help.
Pearl didn't remember much now, as her antibodies fought against the plague's starting effects. If it was the plague. She perspired and vomitted. Owls instantly left the trees nearby. Pearl screamed.
Then the pain was gone. Her red vision altered to soft blue and grey. She ran from the willow tree and it dawned on her that she was able to run on all fours. She had a tail now, and her body was covered in white silvery fur. She wanted to scream again, but her lungs were not the same. Instead, her voice sounded a sad howl like that made by dogs and wolves.
In return, distant howls followed. In panic, she ran into the woods and didn't want to see herself. That was the first time she became a wolf. The same thing happened to her mother, she remembered. Pearl was terrified that first shapeshift night, it didn't make sense.
Soon as dawn arrived, she fell asleep, and woke up in her human form. Pearl was scared, in the woods, minus her bag of belongings, and wearing just the tunic she wore the previous night. Lost, she followed the direction of the sun and came to a small path, leading out of the woods, and through a field of sugar canes. In the far distance ahead were domes of farm land, houses and herds of animals grazing.
Further away near the forests in the distance, peering up were gigantic heads!
Two heads with staring eyes. She was scared. Pearl ran towards the nearest tree, and hid there. She felt it was safe enough to look, and some cloud settled, covering the giant heads. It looked like they were carved into the mountains.
She ran closer to the farm village.
"It's empty!" she cried.
It was true. The houses smelled of death and blood. On each door were marks of X to show that the plague had been there and done its evil.
She couldn't stay here.
Jade moved towards the onimous forest with the giant stone heads in the distance on the high mountains. She was persued by a large wolf, a wild animals, and she had no option but to kill it with her sword. As she feared, it had rabies.
She walked on, thinking how the full moon would come tomorrow night and again she would shape shift....    to be continued....

 ((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.

Sunday, 24 July 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Pearl Chono (Part 1: Childhood)



The sun blazed through the forest as the sword went cutting across flesh. By evening the sun had gone down behind the trees, hidden but leaving a smouldering heat and stench of death.
A gentle stream washed the blood off her sword. Around her, seven slain wolves piled in a heap. She was only protecting her baby.
Song retreated into her small abode, to see to her newborn baby and gather some things.
"We're moving on, Pearl. The forest isn't safe. Predators will come now."
She put everything she had in two baskets. Song put her baby girl, named Pearl, in a vivid purple and silver embroidered sling carrier and strapped it on. The clean sword was at her glittering belt.
A warrior woman of the hills, trained by the masters of the broadsword in temples, Song was the only surviving member of her family. As a teenager, her older brothers were killed in a skirmish by the emperor's soldiers. The soldiers burned down the village and set fire to their rice field. The remaining villagers, including she and her parents all fled. They journeyed alongside a vast river until a plague struck most of them dead. Her parents died because of this terrible plague. She had no choice but to flee again in another direction, and this is when she almost starved to death in the forests.
Wolves attacked her, even when she tried to fend them off with her sword, yet she was able to kill them. Their bites left deep wounds in her body and she felt dazed for months. Despite this she lived.
Song staggered into a poor village and was looked after then the emperor's soldiers soon raided that. She was assaulted by soldiers and couldn't remember very much except pain, and she didn't want to remember anything. This terrible event caused her pregnancy and this was how Pearl came to be.
Named after the pretty magic stone inside a sea shell that Song discovered many years before as a child. It captured her imagination ever since, and she wanted to pass on those happier times to her daughter in a name that was a memory.
Pearl grew into a strong girl and she managed to instinctively know martial arts. She developed her own weapons without Song knowing this, and never teaching her that.
"Mum!" Pearl said at the age of nine. "Do you like the bow and arrow I made?"
Song was astonished when she saw that her own child crafted a beautiful wooden bow, cleverly hand-dyed in saffron, with delicate lethal tipped arrows.
"How... how...?" Song wanted to ask her how she did this but was too shocked that she couldn't get the words out.
Pearl was able to do somersaults, cartwheels, back flips, and aim extremely well at targets. She made spears throughout her childhood and taught herself how to do it all!
"Are my brothers' ghosts helping you Pearl?" Song asked over dinner of boiled cabbage and fish.
"No mum, I hear it said to me by wolves."
Song nearly dropped her spoon.
"What did you say?"
Pearl could tell she might've offended her mother.
"Sorry mum, I didn't mean to."
Song quizzed her daughter but Pearl shut down and refused to answer. She walked away from her mother.
They lived in an abandoned hut for years but soon it was time to move on. Song liked to gather food and grow vegetables and hunt in the streams. When she wasn't gathering, hunting and cooking, she was weaving grass baskets. And making clothes. She took Pearl through a market and bought fabrics, food and clothes. Song was skilled.
One day, Pearl wore her favourite clothes that her mother made. A bright colourful del tunic and little brightly embroidered boots. She loved to wear a little hat covered in small river stones that Song made for her. 
Then Song became very ill with a sickness, and there was nothing Pearl could do.
"Mum!!! Don't leave me!!!" Cried Pearl.
Song didn't want to leave her ten year old daughter in a forest infested with huge dangerous beasts.
"If I don't make it, promise me you'll carry my sword?" Song said sadly.
Pearl wept.
Song passed away in her sleep. It was time to move on from here but Pearl couldn't leave her mother, even though she was gone. Sh picked wild flowers and put them on her mother. She covered Song in leaves and twigs.
 "I'm sorry mum, I can't take your sword."
She placed the sword on her mother and folded Song's arms around the hilt.
"You belong with the sword and can carry it with you."   
She made a small fire and set her mother's flowery little pyre on fire. It burned softly in the moonlight. Wolves in the distance howled.

Wolves came, and they could smell death and they sensed the frail figure of a human child. Pearl looked at the wolves emerging from the bushes with their twinkling eyes.
"Your kind bit my mum," Pearl said through tears. "And she killed those wolves!"
The pack leader was angry. He was the largest of the group, the size of a big horse, with moon white fur and blazing solar eyes. A wolf of the sun and the moon. The others were mere shadows in the background.
"YOU AND YOUR MOTHER ARE DESCENDANTS OF ASENA," thundered the sun-moon wolf leader. "THE POWER OF ASENA RUNS IN YOUR FAMILY WITH THE SHE WOLF."
Pearl backed up into bushes and fumbled in her pockets to find rocks she could throw at it. She would aim straight for it's eyes and then get a dagger and lunge it into the wolf monster's throat. The others would come after, but she knew the trees would offer some safety from them because wolves can't climb very well up trees.
"Asena?" Pearl said, locating a small rock in her coat pocket. "Who is that meant to be?"
The wolf beast laughed and it sounded awful, like the earth was cracking.
"ASENA IS OUR GODDESS. SHE IS A WOLF. A VERY LONG TIME AGO, SHE WAS POISONED AND GAVE FORTH HUMAN SPAWN. YOU COME FROM THAT ABOMINATION!!!"
Peal threw the rock directly into the big wolf's left fire eye. He roared like the earth was breaking apart. The other wolves scarpered into the dark forest. Terrible as he was, he wasn't an ordinary wolf. This was a god. And he wanted to kill her.
She was so frightened that she ran to the nearest tree and climbed up as fast as she could.
Wolf laughed again and the trees were shaking.
"DO YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE ME UP IN THAT VEGETABLE?!" He boomed. The wolf lunged forwards and banged against the tree, and Pearl grabbed on as much as she could. She shut her eyes and prayed for her mother's spirit to come and help.
A blue light made her open her eyes. A beautiful lady with white hair and sky blue eyes drifted on a cloud and smiled sweetly at her. Pearl felt the most calm she ever felt.
"I'm Asena, don't be afraid. That demon can't hurt you," said the lady.
"Are you the goddess?" Pearl asked.
"Yes," Asena replied. "you've nothing to fear. Your stone sent it away."
"He's going to kill me."
"He's gone. He disappeared forever once your stone hit his left eye. He can't live without both of his eyes."
Pearl noticed that she was on the ground and there was no sign of the large wolf anywhere. At all.
The lady slowly melted into fog, and then reappeared, only this time she was a splendid looking wolf with a blue aura.
"I belong in the sky, and you're blessed with the power of the sky too, as your mother was strong, she survived well on her own. You shall find a safe home in the town if you walk South. There you shall meet a prince."
Asena disappared in a bundle of stars.
If it was true that Pearl was a descendant of a goddess such as Asena, then she could understand how she managed to learn sophisticated fighting and hunting tricks. She only taught herself, with the inner divine wisdom embedded in her genes from the sky wolf goddess. She went on the path that the divine Asena told her to follow. Her colourful, adventurous journey had only just begun.  

((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
  

Tuesday, 5 July 2016

Peek-a-boo



Updates so far! At the moment I'm working on a large project about my fictional world of Fenrir's Daughters. I've been posting sometimes on my second blog "Storm Valkyrie". Here on "She Wolf Night" I will resume posting stories and may also return to creating non fiction essays on spirits, gods and myth again.

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

Fenrir's Daughters: Helen Chartreuse



The sky was deep indigo rich with thunder, yet no rain fell. A hardened storm ready to burst.
Miles away flashes of light flickered.
"Oh no, it's going to be a really bad night," sobbed Tia, who held the baby's hand.
"We're safe under here," said Malcom, who wanted to reassure his terrified sister.
The baby wailed.
"She's hungry again and we've run out of milk!" Tia said.
"The bus won't be long and we'll get some more from the kitchen."
Then lightning tore across the sky above them. Followed by deafening thunder. It startled them all and the baby screamed. Tia lifted the baby from the pushchair and rocked her on her lap. Malcom stared anxiously towards the avenue where no lights were visible. They were shielded by a canopy over the bus shelter. The rain began in bucketloads and it sounded even like thunder itself.
Time passed.
"There isn't any bus coming now!" Tia shouted. "We're late!"
Malcom patted Tia's shoulder and said "It's coming soon."
Tia knew that it wasn't. Malcom said the exact same thing ages ago.
As the rain ceased, thunder melted away.
"The bus might've been delayed because of that storm," Malcom said.
The baby cried. Tia could not help but to give the baby a small droplets of water. It wasn't the same thing. Baby was very ill. With ma and pa gone, all they had was the orphanage now and big dreams of their distant rich uncle taking them in.
Yet it was worrying for them because their baby sister was constantly hungry now.
A woman appeared, and she was holding an umbrella and then closed it. The woman was dressed in a pretty black coat, white skirt with dark beads, Oxford wedged shoes and a feathered hat. She turned and faced the children and smiled.
"Hello," she said.
"We've been waiting for a bus for a very long time," Tia said, rocking the baby.
"I guess you must be hungry?" the woman was right.
She had amazing eyes, both Tia and Malcom thought as they looked at her. Her eyes were pale blue that glowed emerald as she turned. Eyes like a cat or a dog. The children were not frightened but in awe of her.
"My name is Helen," she told them. She opened her flower shaped purse then took out two small bars of chocolates. Then she removed a little carton of milk.
The children were astonished and grateful.
"Thank you ever so much, kind lady!" Malcom said.
Tia wiped her tears and thanked Helen.
"You can all eat now," Helen reminded them and she gently kissed the baby's forhead. "It's time for you children to go home."
"There's no home for us," Malcome told her.
"Our ma and pa were killed in the war," Tia sadly added.
"And we're waiting and waiting for our bus," Malcom reminded Helen.
Helen looked around and then she said, "there isn't going to be a bus now. I can take you home."
Tia looked at Malcom feeling puzzled.
"We can only trust her, Tia. We've sat here for so long now that it must be time to move on." The children all got up and let the woman kiss them on their heads as though she were their mother. All had felt calm. The children were going home and they could sense it.
Hours later, the children were returned to their parents.
Helen sat alone under the canopy of a former busstop in an abandoned street. She realised that the three child spirits should be now at peace and it saddened her to think they spent the past 70 years here all by themselves. She knew that spirits had to trust her to give them freedom to cross over. However, she could not be trusted if she were to appear in her natural form: A wolf.
Once the spirits of the three children entered into the light, Helen was transformed into her own self. She was noted as one of the fewest natural wolves with an ability to reach out to spirits and help pass them on into the light. Such a thing was with her since birth. None of her siblings could communicate with spirits this way. And she was able to project herself into human form so that spirits could talk to her. She was a medium wolf and here this night one job was done.
She bounded away on all fours, satisfied that once again she had given more wandering trapped spirits some final peace.           


((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved. 
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.