{Sky Iron} A new child of the Scarred Bear

Sky Iron sang out the last of the ritual, a soft, insistent cry in the Uremehir, ending the of phrase in a soft growl. It was not the way of Iminir to beg the presence of spirits, even patrons of lodges. After a time, the air grew thick with a hot, rank scent, like wet dog but worse.

She bowed, more comfortable in her Dalu form than she was in Hishu, and addressed the spirit in the First Tongue.

"Greetings, most honoured Scarred Bear. I have meat and berries for you."

The great, shaggy bear that stood before her snorted.

"Daughter, I do not need you to hunt for me."

"But it is proper that I bring you an offering, to thank you for your time."

The spirit nodded, and lowered his mouth to the rich, thick meat left for him. As he ate, Sky Iron crouched down carefully, stretching her stiff leg out for balance, taking in the sight and scent of his thick, dark fur and the scars that split it in so many places for a few long moments before speaking.

"I have heard tales from one who wishes to speak with you. His name is Father Gregory, Oathkeeper. Hirfathra Hissu, Cahalith, of the Watchers Children of Los Angeles."

The bear grunted, stopping just short of a growl.

"I have no time for cubs, Daughter."

"He's not a cub. His tales are well known- he sings with all the Glory of Luna Remembering, and shares the Wisdom of Luna Contemplating. I've known him for years, honoured one- he is no more a cub than I am."

"Does he know what it is to walk towards his death?"

"Every day of his life, Scarred Bear."

"Has he walked his Last Mile?"

"Yes, Scarred Bear."

"Was it worthy?"

"He faced down a pack of Lune-Touched Uratha, and destroyed the Cahalunim-magath that had made them crazy. They had been there for decades, perverting the Oath, and he broke that cycle. He will be deaf in one ear and blind in one eye for the rest of his life, and will always walk with a limp. I think it is worthy. If you wish to see the evidence of his deeds, you may find it in the place humans call New Mexico."

The bear grunted again, and buried his nose in the bowl of cranberries left for him. There was a few moments of silence, broken only by the sound of eating. When Scarred Bear looked up, his white-flecked muzzle was stained red.

"I know this one that you speak of. He will take my lessons to heart. That you speak so well of him is good. I will seek him out."

The spirit rammed his head into Sky Iron's weak right leg. She flinched and snarled, twisting on the ball of her left foot, falling into a defensive position. Her eyes flashed with rage and a growl rattled in her throat. Scarred Bear grunted his approval, and pressed his cold, wet nose against her hand.

"My children only get stronger, better, as they get older. Never forget that, Daughter."

She relaxed, easing down from the edge of getting into a fight she couldn't possibly win, hand running down the side of the massive bear's neck.

"I won't, honoured Scarred Bear. That's a lesson written in my flesh. I won't forget. And neither will Oathkeeper-k'ruuk."

{Rosethorn} Farewell

OOC This is dedicated to angelsamael. Thank you for such a beautiful story, and a beautiful character. Thank you for all the fun and the pain and the unspoken luff and things. Thank you for enriching the game so much.

This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory, no happy ending.
This is the way that we love, like its forever.
Then live the rest of our life, but not together...

The connection was gone. The place where her light had dwelled was empty, leaving her hollow and abandoned in the face of the truth- Jo was gone. Changed, dead, subsumed by some darkness or holy glory; whatever had happened, her mentor was beyond her now.

And now she knew why.

It had been a real surprise to see Lucky Sevens on the IRC channel, but Fate was as cruel as she was kind. If anyone knew what had happened to Jo, Lissa would.

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life.
Can't get no love without sacrifice.
If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well,
mmm, A little bit of heaven with a little bit of hell...

The Silver Ladder's voice was tighter than a bow string as she explained briefly that Jo couldn't pay the price that Anubis had asked, had broken her promise before breaking her Healer's Oath. Now she was working to pay the fee of being oathbroken to the spirit courts, who were not merciful or generous.

"Effectively, she's dead."

More than dead. Claimed by the courts that she had once commanded, chained by agreements older than the human world. Gone.

This is the hardest story that I've ever told-
No hope, no love, no glory, a happy ending gone forever more.
Oh, I feel as if I'm wasted,
And I've wasted everyday...

Rosethorn curled up in her garden, back pressed against her tree, wailing like a child, the pain of months unknowing breaking apart around her. I could have helped her, her heart told her, I could have shouldered the burden. I would have. I should have done something. But the sense in her head said no, no you couldn't. Nothing could be done. She was dead the moment she agreed to that chiminage, and she knew it.

So helplessly, she howled her anger and pain and hate to the uncaring sky. The world was full of ugly, worthless, wasteful people, but still the Fates had seen fit to take her light away. How was that fair? How was any of this fair?

Two o'clock in the morning, something's on my mind.
Can't get no rest, keep walking around.
If I pretend that nothing ever went wrong,
I can get to my sleep, I can think that we just carried on...

"Nature isn't fair, Rosie," Fiacre had once told her, "It doesn't care for what you want, or for your comfort or your heart. Still we perservere, because this is what we MUST do. The world will kick you square in the gonads, my Rosie, but you have to keep going. Tree strong, stone sure. This is what we are."

Now that she knew what had happened, now that there was some closure, she could move forward. She could never forget- some nights she woke and could taste the scent of her teacher in the back of her throat, and even now, she reached for the phone to call the Ranch on Jo's birthday- but she could grow, and not be haunted by the things she didn't know.

She turned, and lay down against the dirt, pressing her face into the bed of herbs that smelled of horses and Arizona's red soil and hard work, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"I love you, Jolene Mitchell. Goodbye."

This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory, no happy ending.

( A Letter to the Awakened Nation- A Farewell )