CHAPTER 4
Before the spirit codes formed, there were seven tribes who lived happily in their territories.
Crescent moon.
This tribe was the most reputable because of the large number of people in the tribe. They wore white garments everywhere they went and they were feared by all and nobody could come close to them in terms of number, and with numbers came strength and for this reason, they were held in high regard.
The Crescent moon tribe were always at the forefront whenever it came to music, Music was inculcated into their living and they loved it because they believed it helped them live healthy and elevated moods, they all loved it because they knew it lessened stress and symptoms of depression. Every family knew how to sing and they had a ceremony called will yank where they could showcase their talent.
During the moon goddess worship, they would sing beautifully and channel the goddess in the most ethereal way possible.
Red blood.
The Red blood Tribe were made mostly of warriors, they were brutal with an average number of fighters that could die for their leaders. This tribe lived mostly on the hills and did not believe in wearing garments, they said they did not want to betray their ancestors and for that reason, they walked around close to being naked. Married women had a unique way of distinguishing themselves from young ladies and that was covering their boobs. They planted their crops and hunted in the mountains for that was their territory.
Far north were the Red Candles, they had numerous scholars from this tribe, and they had the highest number of scholars; Their strength came in knowledge and for this reason, every family in this clan made it incumbent upon themselves to learn and teach their werewolves everything that was needed to be known about the laws of this world. Fathers boasted about how much they had learned about this world amidst their pairs, girls always held a special affinity for the most brilliant boys. But the Red candles had a major problem And that was how to transform their Knowledge into wealth. They could talk but rarely took action.
Nethertheless, in the whole town, they were also respected and whenever there was a problem that needed to be handled critically, the red candles were usually called upon.
Fislow Ward was known commonly for their blue garments, they walked with elegance and Pride even though the women in this tribe were the most powerful, they were seen mostly on the farm trying to meet ends means and they further went ahead to harvest and sell their crops. The women struggled to make money while the men sat down and did nothing during the day waiting patiently for the night. When the long-awaited night finally approaches they will collect some of the gold coins made by their women, to take their favorite drink which is the Kotas. The men of the fellow tribe had a very beautiful belief about the Kotas drink, they said the one father away from their house was always the sweetest and for this reason, they traveled a few kilometers to enjoy themselves, in every bar, a man in a blue garment could be found.
The Dark Knight consisted of mostly Assassins, they lived and survived on the water.
The Dark Knights built their houses on water and made a fascinating living on the water. Whenever a baby reached the age of ten, he/she would be thrown into the water. This tribe believed they were acquitting the baby with the water who would be his best friend, they could also fight on land but nobody dared to come close to them on water. The Dark Knight was very un-materialistic and lived mostly on basic things and made a beautiful living.
The Night bliss was the wealthiest of all the Seven tribes, they had magnificent buildings with mind-blowing architecture. They were very good Merchants, The Night Bliss did business both day and night, did not care about the weather nor Season, they were always traveling with their Caravan; trying so hard to be the wealthiest in their community, with money came pride and respect and every individual in this tribe needed to have immerse money to be respected. Their Women tried to keep up with the men and for this reason, they were also seen as very expensive to keep but they were beautiful so nobody cared about the money and only their tribe could take in a woman from the Night Bliss. The Alpha of the Night Bliss was a huge handsome Alpha named Killian, his urge for power was something that could not be ignored, he tried so hard to be better than the other Alphas.
He had asked for help on how to lead the seven tribes altogether and he was told he had to find 'the special one'
And who was this special one?
He had no idea but his witch gave him a name. Alexander Firdaus.
He had asked where he could find him and he was told, The solar tribe.
The weakest amongst the seven.
The Solar tribe lived in a remote area, where trees shielded them from the sun, irrespective of their setbacks they were happy, Children could be seen jumping from one place to another, they knew they were the smallest but in their hearts, they were the happiest, they always had fun in the night, they would light a fire and sit round it. The older men will tell tales about their ancestors, folklore or maybe about things they had encountered In the past and how they bravely navigated through it. Some of them were lies, others had elements of truth in them either way, they were joyous of all the tribes.
The Solar tribe would talk about the benefits of Folktales, they would say it played an important role in their clan. Because stories reflect their group's cultural identity, preserving the stories of Werewolves would help preserve an entire culture. Storytelling affirmed pride and identity in a culture. In this amazing town of theirs, stories were created by and for the tribes telling them. Different groups in their town had different rituals or ceremonies for storytelling, which created a sense of belonging to a cultural group. To outsiders hearing a clan stories, it provided an insight into the community's beliefs, views, and customs. For people within the community, it allows them to encompass their group's uniqueness. They showed the werewolves' desires and fears of a group, such as love, marriage, and death.
The Solar tribe would always say, Folklores are also seen as a tool for education and entertainment. They provided a way for children to understand the material and social environment. Every story had a moral to teach people, such as goodwill prevails over evil.
For entertainment, stories were set in fantastic worlds. Even though folktales were for entertainment, they brought a sense of belonging and pride to their communities. The Solar Tribe had an amazing culture that treated women equally to men, they showed everyone was equal and everyone deserved to be respected, Their women were also blessed with long and curly hairs that always touched their backs.
Killian thought about the tribe and laughed. To him, all those things they prided themselves in was hopeless. He wondered why the so-called special person would be in a tribe as lowly as Solar.
But when he thought about the advantage he would have if he found the special person.
His heart raced with excitement.
With that, he vowed to find the special person.
Alexander Firadus, a wolf born into the weakest tribe out of the seven, was not content with his life because he could not do the things he wanted to and honestly, he did not know what he wanted to do.
He just existed, not lived.
But how could he live? He did not recognize who he was or how he wanted to live.
It didn't help that he was born under the Solar tribe. According to the tribal markings, Solar Tribe was considered lesser and they were often used as slaves or servants due to their incapability to match with the other wolf tribes.
Alexander knew he was different from the very first day he was born. Even the skies declared his presence on the day he was born.
The skies had shone with a dust of blue called Exarela, an occurrence which one could only see once in his lifetime, or never and wasn't sure he liked being different.
He had extraordinary strength and poise. He could do what average werewolves couldn't, and his capabilities surpassed that of vampires and witches.
He became both feared and respected in his tribe, but Alexander had a little problem. His memory was becoming more fuzzy as days passed.
He didn't exactly know when it began, or how it came to be, but he knew it was a problem that had to be fixed.
He couldn't keep sitting around, hoping the moon goddess would take pity on him and cure his memory problem.
Deciding on a long hike through the icy mountains, with his traveling gear on his back, Alex set out for the solution to this increasingly annoying memory failure. He spent several nights in the thick woods, eating the food he'd carried with him, until it ran out. On the sixth day, Alvin stayed under a large tree with so many branches which stretched out as far as the eye could see. The roots of the tree branches in several directions, and served as a resting place.
Even his surroundings were thick with fog, and Alex couldn't see a damn thing. But, he heard the snap of a tree branch a short distance away, and it sent the chirping birds parking from their nest on the top of another tree. Alex's ears perked up immediately, and he reached for the gun nestled beside his lean legs. He couldn't risk changing to a werewolf when he had no idea what was out there. Gun on steady, he navigated through as much of the ice as he could, some of it covering the front of his high boots, and soaking his skin, but he didn't mind. His wolf instinct snapped at him, urging him forward, further into the thick fog. Alex mistakenly stepped on a fallen tree branch, and it crunched under his weight, the only sound in the stark quiet of the morning.
'Who's there?" Alexander dared to call, darting behind a sturdy bark. His breathing was soft and uneven, and Alex could feel his heart beating faster with each passing minute. Cocking the rifle he was holding, he listened for any out-of-place sound-an indication that he wasn't the only one here in these woods. Everywhere was still as it had been when Alex woke up under the tree. But when Alexander turned back to where his things had been, they were no longer there. Whoever took them must have known the area pretty damn well, and Alex didn't discover any foul play. Foot tracks had been properly covered. Letting out a low growl, he tried to fight his wolf form from kicking in. The hairs on his arm were standing at attention, and his eyeballs grew wide.
He couldn't hold it any longer. Alexander allowed himself to transform, gritting when the pain tore through his skin like a knife wound. It wasn't usually this painful, and Alex had to battle with his wolf. In the end though, he won, but he was so weak his body collapsed on the floor, and his vision faded into darkness.
When Alexander woke up, a few hours later, he saw that he was in a strange place. An old cabin from the looks of it. There were several holes in the walls which had been boarded up, probably from the outside. A small table, a wooden chair, and shelf overflowing with dusty books, were the only thing Alexander could see. That was apart from the bamboo bed he was lying on, still in the same outfit from the previous day.
Alexander couldn't remember what had happened, or how he ended up in this enclosed space, the last he could recall was holding a gun. And bam! Here he was. Alexander rolled over to the side of the tiny bed, and a sharp pain pierced his skull. It felt like he'd been asleep for days, and Alexander didn't want to even think about it. He was on a mission to find the cause, and solution to his memory loss, that was what he needed to focus on right now. Alex pushed through his lethargy, and with each step he took to the room door, he kept on thinking if he'd been doing the right thing, heading out in the woods. It wasn't because he was afraid of being ganged up and beaten by other big bad wolves who envied the amount of power he had, on the contrary, he was only scared of dying, with his body left for the vultures to feed on.