Chapter 1
The story begins
The New World- Nine hundred years after the events of this story
The Historian
The fire sparks and spits embers into the wind that seizes them and swirls them away, drawing my eye up to the night sky. A dark blue canvas full of burning stars, and the ceaseless crescent moon hangs like a silent watcher. They are a heavy weight, their secrets held behind a thin veil of the past. Tonight, I need to part that veil. I shuffle in my seat, ignoring the ache of my old bones. Stories twisted in memories steal my attention, snagging me down paths of long forgotten lives.
Tonight, I’ll speak words, unveil a story that they won’t believe, but I hope it sits in their hearts long after today. For the sacrifice of gods and humans is what gave them their freedom and shaped the world we live in today.
“We’re here!” The pretty beta says with a sassy grin at her friend. Valerie and Henni are thick as thieves and are good girls at heart, though they will often be found in the thick of mischief. One beta has deep red hair, while the other has hair of mousy brown. Tonight, I will strip that innocence from them.
More of these young adults file into the camp, taking seats. Tom, Rhys, Wade, Jessy, Cora, and Samantha.
I wait until they get quiet and lean back in my chair while they pour drinks and get out their snacks.
In all my years, this has been the most effective way of conveying this story, and I have told it many, many times. With any luck, it will sink into their souls and become a cornerstone of their growth, revealing a world they have never guessed at. One that they will have to fight to keep alive.
“What story are you telling tonight, Teacher?” an alpha with broad shoulders and a mop of brown hair asks as he sits down on the log. His name is Will, and he looks like an alpha I knew who saved my life a long time ago.I have not thought of his name for a while,I think regretfully.
“A special one,” I reply with another wistful look down at my gnarled fingers.
I have been a part of their lives since they were born, and seeing them ready to spread their wings and leave home is always sad. As is what I’m about to do. Sad but necessary.
“Is it about the wolves?” Cora asks, leaning forward, her eyes lit by flames.
“Partly,” I say. “And it’s partly about the gods. And a lot about humans.”
“I don’t understand,” she chuckles, but I can see their unease growing, and I catch a hint of disappointment in her scent.
I hide a sigh behind a roll of my shoulders, stretching in preparation for the long night to come. They won’t be disappointed with this story. Horrified, disbelieving maybe, but disappointed, no.
“You don’t have to, but you need to listen because this story is how we came to be, and we need to remember what everyone gave up to get here. So many people sacrificed their lives. Gods and humans alike bled for hundreds of years for this world.”
They are still, almost too still, going against the nature of youth, all of their attention on me and my words, as it should be.
I go silent, staring into the dark, outside the campfire’s reach. “It was a dark time for humanity, for anyone who was born alpha or omega. The Alpha himself transcribed a lot of this story. It was his decision that all young adults hear this version of events before they go out into the world as a warning. As a reminder of what we stand to lose when evil is left unchecked.”
I look out over them, weighing their silence.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Will says. “Tell us.”
I don’t know if they can feel the ambiance of the night or if the gravity of the situation is already pushing them headlong into adulthood, but they all wait with serious expressions, eager to hear the story I am about to impart.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to retell it. The price of this story is their childhood, their innocence, and pieces of their soul.
“Let us begin.” I close my eyes briefly, trying to work out where to start. I reach for the story as the fire crackles, sending a plume of sweet smelling smoke into the air. “The people who lived here in the era of technology lived peacefully, more or less, in a world of advanced technology and hyper-consumerism. It wasn’t perfect, but it was working. The gods lived in their world. Remmilow is a beautiful place, and in the heart of their world, they had a place called the Hall of Petitions, where they listened to human prayers. The gods chose an alpha, omega, and beta to lead them each cycle of fifty years. They alone decided whose prayers were answered. They were the ultimate judge and power. For eons, it had been the same, and nothing had changed.”
I stare at the flames of the fire, feeling the same deep sadness I feel every time I start this story. I open my mouth but glance up at the night sky, then back at the teens.
“Fourteen hundred years ago…the stars fell,” I say softly, yet my words are heard easily.
I ignore their gasps.
“That’s the story I’m going to tell you tonight. How the stars fell to Earth, and the world ended for a very, very long time.”
