Black Pine
Preamble before the meetings was always a long drawn affair, the lesser gods squabbling over their seats and conducting informal trades and negotiations at their pleasure all too loudly. Many too spirited about the whole thing too, at least for the wolf’s taste, making any passerby a part of the conversation and debate over what was fair whether by choice or not, for simply dominating the space.
For that reason Ferventi often took a spot closer to the major gods, their quarrelings had smoldered into nothing but mere pettiness millenia ago, with no true fight between them. As it was he wanted to speak with one of them, before he’d even gotten to lie down and rest his tired paws.
“I hope you aren’t ire with me, for stealing one of your devouts so dedicated he named himself after you.”
The wind god laughed, a cheery warbling sound like music.
“How could I be? You are his father, and he demonstrated that more of your blood runs through his veins more than any river of devotion paid to me, playing you at your own game. He was always one of yours, good friend, it was only a matter of time before he realized as such.”
“That’s good to hear, I’d hate if you resented him for it.” Ferventi took his place on top of his usual stone, tail dragging through the fallen pine needles that had accumulated since he last attended the meetings.
“Never. You’ll find he does nothing in halves, even when his heart is not in it wholly. I do wonder if he will change his name again, though.”
“Likely not- I talked with the boy, he had nothing but kindness when he spoke of you and his time as one of your devouts. Besides, he has humor in that name.”
Tilting her head, the wind god beckoned him to explain silently.
“Ah, you do not know much of mortal languages, I forgot.” Musing for a moment, the wolf thought of how best to explain it. “It’s a play on his birth name, you see, the way it’s written mean’s about ‘Ryou’s Black Pine’, essentially that he was calling himself yours. What you said about him doing nothing in halves, I suppose that proves it!”
Both gods laughed at such.
“That and tracking you and your other sons halfway across the continent as well.”
“Yes, he’ll be a fine hunter, I’m sure.”
“Indeed, it makes me wonder why you sent him away then, to one of your smaller sects, as little more than a babysitter.”
Despite the earlier joviality, Ferventi’s face fell somewhat with irritation at just how much a greater god than he misunderstood.
“Despite my titles, I know much of the way of life outside of war and hunting. To care, for one another, for yourself, for the future, is an important skill and one he will best learn with them. As mighty a hunter, soldier, father, or woodsmen Ryoten may one day become, he will need that skill most of all when among his pack. He may be my son, but to be my devout that is something he will need in spades more than any skill in tracking or war.”
“I meant no ire by it, no question as by you being his patron or as his father, I was simply curious. Though, I wouldn’t worry about his capabilities to love and nurture, I have seen it myself.”
“In his life, or in his fates?”
“His fates- you will see it for yourself, I’m sure that Shia and Mora will keep it shrouded to you until the proper time, but you will learn first hand how deep in his bones it is.”
Once again the wolf narrowed his eyes.
“Why keep the nature of his heart from me? They only do that when I am personally involved, when it affects my course as much as his.”
“You’ve arrived at the conclusion yourself there, Ferventi.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” He rubbed his wrists still, trying to ease the marks left by handcuffs after hours of them being on his wrists. The lawyer turned and paused to look at the sickly looking boy on the bench, despite having just been trying to usher the man out of the station for fear of him opening his mouth and ruining all the hard work and strings pulled to keep his freedom. “Likely the foster system- I overheard, they haven’t been able to contact any family closer than you and me are.” Ryoten frowned and refused to budge as Vera once again tried to get him to move along, more concerned with the officers continuing to leer at the pair. “Nah.” “Nah? What do you mean?” “Nah, not letting that kid into the system, look at him. You saw them pigs trying to throw me under the bus just for showing up with him, what do you think’s gonna happen to the kid? Ya really think that they’re gonna actually keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t end up with some sickos, or care if he does?” “Likely not. I do have to remind you, I’m not a specialist in Child Protective Services though.” “C’mon Vera, you said you was Ma’ii’s best. Besides, I got an ace for this.” "I said it wasn't my specialty, not that I wouldn't help. What are you planning? I can't help if you actually kidnap him just to keep him out of the system, you know." Ryoten brushed off the joke easily, shaking his head. "Got a pen?" She handed it to him, watching as he rolled his sleeve up to begin drawing on his arm. "I didn't realize you knew Runic." "Most of the shrines up north are written in it, pack uses it for their trail markers too." "Mhm, don't mind me, I'm going to step back just in case your father decides to eat a few of these fools." Ferventi chuckled at the words, the man's summoning of him unneeded for he was already there, just shrouded. Really, he would like to have eaten a few, but that kind of damage was unnecessary at the time. Too many others would be hurt. "I see now, you were right, Ryou." His words were unheard as the two continued to squabble. Ma’ii had been right that watching his son from time to time would be entertaining, and Ryou as well that it was well worth the wait to see just why he had to see for himself. The flaunts of a powerful god trumped the word of any government, of any official and rule. The power of words held weight as well, stiffening the spines of those who first protested Ryoten’s own. No one dared to speak against Ferventi, not usually. Those bold enough to were often among his pack already with a learned familiarity, learned disobedience and challenge to them for they knew him less as the God of War, the God of Violence, the god that hunted and killed for sport and pleasure but as one of their own. These mortals did not. The boy, even, did not. They knew him as the blood soaked wolf of war, the god who many a time had torn men to ribbons and feasted on their marrow as a sweet afternoon snack. There was terror, at first, in the boy’s eyes, but he did not back down or cower away. He reminded the great god of many great heroes he had met, had shaped, had born. He too could be one himself, but only if he chose the path. “It is up to you, child. If you come with the pack, with my son, you will be leaving behind all you know and have ever known.” The boy nodded. “Walk with me and Ryoten, shall you?” “Dad-” Ryoten quickly strode aside him, a gloved hand nestling in his fur under his mantle. “-You won’t initiate him here, will you?” “Why not? It’s a good clear night, after all, and a new chapter of his life. To bookend tragedy with a new beginning would be good for him.” His son stepped back, or rather stopped, and he seemed as stalwart as the pines his father named him for. “He’s young.” “So were you. Hira didn’t want the life of gods so intertwined with your own, you know, but you were immovable, rooted in your desire for it. I see the same in him, and I am not forcing his hand, only allowing him the chance to speak of his own accord and freely as you or I.” Both once again turned their attention to the sickly child. He looked quite better with a warm meal in him, but ravages of his experiences still took their toll and heavily. Fate whispering in Ferventi’s ear told that he would always bear the marks of this time on him, no matter his choice. “...Do I get to pick a new name, like everyone says?” “That depends. Do you want one?” Already he knew of it, insistent fates swimming around his mind, through one ear and out the next. His choice sweet, a remembrance, one he’d grow into like a sapling in fertile earth. Already visions of what to come were swimming in his mind. A bitter thing, to know the future of others, rather than watch it play out himself. As his son and new grandson spoke, he banished the tiny gnats of the futures unfolding away too loudly, enough they both could hear. “Leave me to dwell on it and see for myself what is to come.” “Dad?” Quickly, he came with an excuse, ignoring the vision of how Ryoten would shape the boy’s path, cut down impulses like broken branches, and nurtured new growth. “A little time, is all. Just as you, I am considering where we shall go from here.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” He rubbed his wrists still, trying to ease the marks left by handcuffs after hours of them being on his wrists. The lawyer turned and paused to look at the sickly looking boy on the bench, despite having just been trying to usher the man out of the station for fear of him opening his mouth and ruining all the hard work and strings pulled to keep his freedom. “Likely the foster system- I overheard, they haven’t been able to contact any family closer than you and me are.” Ryoten frowned and refused to budge as Vera once again tried to get him to move along, more concerned with the officers continuing to leer at the pair. “Nah.” “Nah? What do you mean?” “Nah, not letting that kid into the system, look at him. You saw them pigs trying to throw me under the bus just for showing up with him, what do you think’s gonna happen to the kid? Ya really think that they’re gonna actually keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t end up with some sickos, or care if he does?” “Likely not. I do have to remind you, I’m not a specialist in Child Protective Services though.” “C’mon Vera, you said you was Ma’ii’s best. Besides, I got an ace for this.” "I said it wasn't my specialty, not that I wouldn't help. What are you planning? I can't help if you actually kidnap him just to keep him out of the system, you know." Ryoten brushed off the joke easily, shaking his head. "Got a pen?" She handed it to him, watching as he rolled his sleeve up to begin drawing on his arm. "I didn't realize you knew Runic." "Most of the shrines up north are written in it, pack uses it for their trail markers too." "Mhm, don't mind me, I'm going to step back just in case your father decides to eat a few of these fools." Ferventi chuckled at the words, the man's summoning of him unneeded for he was already there, just shrouded. Really, he would like to have eaten a few, but that kind of damage was unnecessary at the time. Too many others would be hurt. "I see now, you were right, Ryou." His words were unheard as the two continued to squabble. Ma’ii had been right that watching his son from time to time would be entertaining, and Ryou as well that it was well worth the wait to see just why he had to see for himself. The flaunts of a powerful god trumped the word of any government, of any official and rule. The power of words held weight as well, stiffening the spines of those who first protested Ryoten’s own. No one dared to speak against Ferventi, not usually. Those bold enough to were often among his pack already with a learned familiarity, learned disobedience and challenge to them for they knew him less as the God of War, the God of Violence, the god that hunted and killed for sport and pleasure but as one of their own. These mortals did not. The boy, even, did not. They knew him as the blood soaked wolf of war, the god who many a time had torn men to ribbons and feasted on their marrow as a sweet afternoon snack. There was terror, at first, in the boy’s eyes, but he did not back down or cower away. He reminded the great god of many great heroes he had met, had shaped, had born. He too could be one himself, but only if he chose the path. “It is up to you, child. If you come with the pack, with my son, you will be leaving behind all you know and have ever known.” The boy nodded. “Walk with me and Ryoten, shall you?” “Dad-” Ryoten quickly strode aside him, a gloved hand nestling in his fur under his mantle. “-You won’t initiate him here, will you?” “Why not? It’s a good clear night, after all, and a new chapter of his life. To bookend tragedy with a new beginning would be good for him.” His son stepped back, or rather stopped, and he seemed as stalwart as the pines his father named him for. “He’s young.” “So were you. Hira didn’t want the life of gods so intertwined with your own, you know, but you were immovable, rooted in your desire for it. I see the same in him, and I am not forcing his hand, only allowing him the chance to speak of his own accord and freely as you or I.” Both once again turned their attention to the sickly child. He looked quite better with a warm meal in him, but ravages of his experiences still took their toll and heavily. Fate whispering in Ferventi’s ear told that he would always bear the marks of this time on him, no matter his choice. “...Do I get to pick a new name, like everyone says?” “That depends. Do you want one?” Already he knew of it, insistent fates swimming around his mind, through one ear and out the next. His choice sweet, a remembrance, one he’d grow into like a sapling in fertile earth. Already visions of what to come were swimming in his mind. A bitter thing, to know the future of others, rather than watch it play out himself. As his son and new grandson spoke, he banished the tiny gnats of the futures unfolding away too loudly, enough they both could hear. “Leave me to dwell on it and see for myself what is to come.” “Dad?” Quickly, he came with an excuse, ignoring the vision of how Ryoten would shape the boy’s path, cut down impulses like broken branches, and nurtured new growth. “A little time, is all. Just as you, I am considering where we shall go from here.”
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