Story Segment -- Impossible Things
This is a scene from my recently published short story "Impossible Things." Jason Winter Wolf, a Cheyenne werewolf, answers a call from across the world to answer to the charges of insurrection in his clan. Only he knows that his purpose is to fulfill a duty that could end with his death. Published in the anthology "Children of the Moon," the story is available in full at www.misanthrope-press.com/anthologies in print and e-book editions. The full story would be rated Adult for violence; this segment is suitable for general audiences.
(Note that Wyndsong has created art for this story, which is also among my submissions here -- be sure to have a look!)
Jason Winter Wolf, in human guise, has come to a forest clearing to begin his journey...EDIT 20 May 2016: I have since published the full version of this story at Impossible Things, with artwork by Soro, which was published with the story in Children of the Moon. A draft of Wyndsong's art appears here.
In a smooth place in clean grass, I visualized what I needed. I took off my clothes and set them neatly to one side. The breeze around me was chill; it helped me to cool my emotions. From one pouch, I poured corn meal into a secure circle around me. From another pouch, I offered a pinch of tobacco to each of the Seven Directions. I invoked my Totems, my Guides, my Ancestors, and the help of Great Spirit. I sat upon the ground, legs folded properly, took a deep breath.
I relaxed my hold.
The change began almost immediately. No one is ever truly prepared for the sensations involved in shifting. No one has ever performed a scientific study of the phenomenon; the reports are all anecdotal. For some, it's agonizing; for me, it's more like forcing clenched, overstressed muscles to relax into their normal shape - it hurts, but it feels so good when it's over. The wolf form is my natural state; being human causes far more and far more constant pain.
I am Wolf. I am whole. I am my Self, and my power is mine to wield.
From outside the circle, I heard an artificial chirrup from my cell phone. Midnight. I began the invocation and the meditation that I had memorized and could not put into practice until this moment. One does not call the Goddess for amusement.
The light from Grandmother Moon shifted, wavered slightly, opalesced, congealed, until a long cascade of silvery-white light wove through the sky and filled the circle around me. My eyes slitted against the brightness, but I did not blink. As the light thickened around me, seeming to press against my full white fur, I raised my head and waited.
"I am called," the soft voice said. "Who has called?"
"I am Jason Winter Wolf," I said gently. "I draw down the moon to beg a boon."
"You are my child, but you are not of the Sisterhood," the voice observed. "I cannot bestow a boon to those upon whom I cannot call."
"Goddess, I am_berdache._ I am a twin soul, with male and female in me. Gaze upon my spirit and know this."
A long silence. "This is how you have called upon me. Yet I do not know if I can grant this boon."
"Goddess, I must perform a duty this night. You know that I have been called by another of your children. You know that I must answer. He too has called, and we are to meet upon the bridge of your sacred light."
"All has been prepared."
"Should I survive, I ask that my heart be healed."
In the stillness around me, I remained unmoving, muzzle turned upward, ears forward to catch any sound, a tableau of white within white.
"You are called," said the voice. "Rise."
I unfolded myself and stood within the circle.
"Prepare."
"Goddess, I am ready."
The whiteness thickened further, and I traveled without moving. My hind paws felt something solid under them, soft grass and firm ground, and the whiteness thinned slowly, pulling back to reveal a small clearing not unlike the one where I had begun. Here, I was not alone...