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Chapter Seven (C): From the Clearing To the Conduit
“That was a sign that we have come to the end of The Clearing,” Mortimus answered.
“What does that mean?” he asked angrily.
“It means, Little Pup, that it is time for you to learn more about your magic.”
“Magic?” Warrick laughed. “I’m a werewolf. Wolves don’t do magic. I think you’re looking for a wizard or something,” he finished, chuckling.
“Warrick,” Mortimus stated in a firm voice, standing to look him in the eye. “What I am about to tell you will not be easy to accept, given your background, but accept it you must.”
Warrick froze, anticipating a stunning mental blow.
“You are not a wolf.”
* * *
“I was born a wolf,” Warrick countered.
“No,” Mortimus denied, “but you were born in the shape of one.”
“What’s the difference?” Warrick asked in an exasperated tone.
Mortimus stood, holding out a hand to re-light the now dead fire ring with the simple gesture. Standing with the fire at his back, he told Warrick, “It’s the difference between this…” he shifted into the original form that Warrick had seen, replete with ferocious teeth, claws and glittering skin, “this” he continued, again shifting into the form of Warrick’s teacher, a man of African descent with tightly coiled, metallic gold hair and eyes, “and this,” he finished, shifting into the form of a helpless looking kitten.
Warrick looked disbelievingly at the tiny ball of fur, sitting in front of the fire. It’s golden coat and matching eyes looked up at Warrick sweetly as the thing purred. He stepped back involuntarily, unnerved by the contrast between the deadly warrior who had been training him and this unassuming little being. Unable to sense anything from the kitten, he was painfully aware that he would have been taken in by its seemingly unthreatening guise. As he backed away the kitten became alert, standing up on all fours and beginning to stalk towards him. Then, in mid-stride, the kitten became a fully grown lion the size of a small car, its metallic golden eyes piercing through Warrick as fire erupted from inside of it. The lion continued to stalk towards him, flames licking up around its legs and torso as though they were a living thing. Warrick had to suppress the urge to run. After all, Mortimus could have chosen to kill him at any point during training, and he had not done so. Therefore, killing him was obviously not the point of this exercise. Besides, where would he go? The lion stood approximately ten feet away from him now, staring at him in a contemplative manner, with its head cocked to the side. It then shook its metallic golden mane, and transformed into a gargantuan black wolf, as large as a human school bus. Both its eyes and the tips of its fur were trimmed in metallic gold, as were its claws.
Warrick continued to stand his ground, afraid of what would occur if he were to try and run away. Then, the wolf bent its front legs and ducked down until his eyes were nearer to those of its pupil.
“Do you better understand my meaning, pup?” Mortimus asked, speaking directly into his mind.
“Yes, Teacher,” Warrick hurriedly answered. “You can transform into many shapes and forms.”
“You mean,” Mortimus corrected, “that we can transform into many shapes and forms.” With that, the wolf began to circle Warrick.
Warrick was shocked at his implication. “We?! But, I’m not like you!” He felt nervous as the thing walked around his back, turning nervously to keep its mouth firmly in view.
“You are not exactly like me. However, you are not a wolf. You are a shapeshifter.”
“If I’m not a wolf, why is that the only animal I’ve ever shifted into? Besides, I still don’t know what you are. Is that your title? Shapeshifter?”
“No,” answered the wolf enigmatically, once again circling Warrick. “Shapeshifting is merely one of my talents, notmy title.”
“Can you please tell me what the hell I’m supposed to be, and why, if I’m such a shapeshifter, I’ve never shifted into anything besides a wolf?”
Warrick was so occupied following the circles of the oversized wolf that he failed to detect any change in his environment, until fog had once again covered The Clearing.
“I can tell you that,” confirmed the wolf. “However,” he continued, “I won’t, unless you proceed to the next level.” With that, he suddenly faded into the fog.
“Wait!” roared Warrick, frustrated at having been so close to an answer, only to once again be denied.
“You are free to decide where you most wish to be,” the disembodied voice of The Mortimus prompted, coming to him through the fog.
“Maybe it’s finally time to go home,” thought Warrick, picturing the Pack House clearly in his head as he began to walk. After about twenty minutes, the fog lifted, and he was greeted by the sight of the Pack House in late evening sunlight, with the sun over towards the western horizon. He ran across the lawn, the rain from a recent shower drenching the cuffs of his pants before he dashed and up the stairs and across the porch, throwing open the front door and sprinting down the hallway towards his father’s study. Bursting through the doors, he saw that his father’s chair was turned around, towards the windows. “Dad, I’m home!” he announced, skidding to a halt just on the other side of the desk as the chair began to turn. Then, he recoiled in horror, as he saw that the figure contained therein was not that of his father, but rather the teaching form of The Mortimus.
“So you are,” he acknowledged. “Congratulations on reaching stage two. You are the first of the Alpha Rex to do so,” he stated with a nod of his head, suppressing the pleased smile which threatened to spread across his face.
“What the hell is this?!” Warrick demanded. “Are you trying to mind fuck me into oblivion? Why the hell would you make me think that I made it home, that I would be able to see my family, only to take it away from me again?”
“I would not take credit for something so cruel, and I will not take credit for your actions,” Mortimus said calmly, refusing to take the bait.
“My actions!” stated Warrick, incredulously. “How am I responsible for all of this?” he asked, indicating the house that surrounded him.
“How, indeed?” asked Mortimus. “You have chosen your new training grounds, and so for now, we shall explore them.” As they walked throughout the house, Mortimus praised the accuracy of Warrick’s construct. “The detail and accuracy of your memories of this place speak well of your strength.” As they walked down to the gym, the training circle and the warrior’s barracks, he remarked on the utility of these memories. “These shall be quite useful in helping you to get through this stage, so that you may sooner return to its inspiration.”
“You mean, I will get to go home?” Warrick asked, tentatively.
“If you continue to learn all that I have to teach you, that is the most likely outcome,” he assured Warrick. “However, you can change that at any time. Now, it’s getting late,” he said, looking at the sun as it began to dip below the horizon. “Why don’t you take a shower, and get ready for bed?” he asked, disappearing through the doorway of the barracks.
Warrick ran to catch up, but when he reached the yard, there was no one present there but him. Left with no other choice, he went back to the pack house and up the stairs, to his room. After showering and dressing in a T-shirt and sweat pants, he re-entered his room, anticipating the feel of the closest thing he had experienced to his own bed since the beginning of this entire ordeal. As he opened the door to once again re-enter his room, the last thing he expected to see was The Mortimus, sitting on his couch. A tray sat on the table before him, and a cheery fire burned in the fireplace.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, warily, walking over to stand beside the other man.
“Feeding you,” he returned, indicating that Warrick should take the seat across from him. “Sandwich?” he asked, removing the lid to the tray with a flourish. On the tray sat two roast beef sandwiches, complete with chips and roasted vegetables, and several cold bottles of beer on the side.
Warrick dropped wearily down into his seat and began to eat his food, and The Mortimus did likewise. Once they had finished, he asked, “What, no cookies?”
“Cookies and milk are Stephen’s favorite, not yours,” he answered. “However, you like them as well. As it stands, you are aware that your father always includes those in your late night snack as an indication that your brother will soon be joining you. However tonight,” he said with a flourish, as another tray appeared, to replace the one that had previously grace the table, “it will be only us.”
Removing the cover to the tray, Warrick’s nose was assaulted by his favorite: hot, deep dish apple pie with a lattice crust, teeming with butter, sugar and cinnamon, with a side of ice cream, coffee and milk. Digging in, he asked, “So, why are we here, Mortimus?”
“As I informed you earlier, you have chosen our present location. I can only assume that because you still have much to learn, you chose to do so in an environment that was familiar to you. That is a wise decision, as familiarity will lessen the sense of disorientation that you will experience, as you enter into your new world.”
“So, why the snack attack?” Warrick asked, lifting an eyebrow as he brought his fork to his mouth.
“You associate this manner of teaching with some of the most pivotal moments in your life. Your father has effectively utilized it to teach important lessons throughout your life. I felt it only fitting that we should continue the tradition tonight. Are you prepared to listen?” he asked, leaning forward.
Warrick replaced the saucer on the tray and, gathering his coffee, he sat back. “I’m listening.”
“We are no longer in the stage of The Clearing, but rather, in that of The Conduit. I know that you joked about wizardry, but you have already mastered the simple forms of magic that are granted to every Alpha Rex: Shadowing, or walking in shadows, so that no one may sense your presence is one of those. Another is telekinesis. However, our first indication that you intended to walk in your full potential came when you exploded the rock in The Clearing,” he stated with a smile. “That was the real beginning to your journey to this place. You had taken only one earth day to surpass the full training that each of your line has received in ten.”
“Hey, if I worked that quickly, why didn’t I get to go home that day?” Warrick asked.
“You are not merely an Alpha Rex, Warrick. You are the Alpha Rex. The one we have been waiting for.”
“But…”
Mortimus held up a hand, stopping him. “You will need to be quiet if you wish to have the full explanation.”
Warrick sat back in his chair and nodded. “Okay.”
Mortimus stood, going to the stand in front of the fire. “My people have been called many names over the years. I am sure that the schools have made you aware of the human fairy tales, such as A Thousand and One Nights, have they not?”
At Warrick’s nod, he continued.
“The tale of the boy, Aladdin features a rather fanciful tale. A genie, a jinn, a Djinn, an ifrit, and countless other names I believe that it is called, depending upon the translation. In the story, this creature granted to the boy unimaginable riches and built a palace out of thin air. That story is based in truth, though it is not entirely accurate.” The end of the room containing the fireplace and Mortimus began to distort. It became elevated, and the flames from the fireplace leapt out, first to surround Mortimus and then to form behind him into a massively ornate golden throne, clad in every precious gem imaginable. A scepter appeared in his right hand, and Teacher grew in size until he surpassed the size of even the original Mortimus. The crown of his golden hair braided itself into an ornate, bejeweled crown and his clothing changed from a simple black cotton tunic and pants into the richest of fabrics, shot through with black and silvery metallic threads. His claws grew and his skin, though still appearing human, glinted in the light from the fire behind him.
Warrick quickly stood before him, bowing his head. He now knew why he always felt compelled to obey the commands of this creature, though he had previously only chosen to obey those of his father. The Alpha inside of him was aware that his father was of equal rank, while Mortimus…he was well above their station. He quickly recalled that his father had once told him that there was a single king on the earth who held dominance over all other kings, and that above even him was the king in the sky, who commanded this king to care for the earth itself, and the beings therein. It was unnerving that he should be meeting the former, so unexpectedly. Would he ever meet the latter, as well? Warrick cringed to recall each time that he had disrespected Mortimus, yelling at him, demanding explanations…it was a wonder that he had not been struck dead in an instant.
“Come now, Little Pup. Would you strike down your child, simply because he lacked the experience to understand the true nature of your authority?”
Warrick shook his head mutely, feeling unable, and unworthy, to speak.
“You may be seated, Little One. This shall be a long tale, and I have no desire to cause you discomfort.”
Fire leaped towards Warrick, and formed an ornate golden chair at his back. They both made themselves comfortable, and Mortimus began to speak. “Many of the names and the attributes that have been given to my kind have encompassed only a fraction of our true nature. We are the Origin: The original creations of the earth, and the reason that this planet is habitable by its present population. We were created at the beginning of this world with one simple task: Care for the formation of the earth, and the creatures therein. We lived in what humans refer to as the magma of the earth, and helped to form the continents and the oceans that sit thereupon. My true name is unpronounceable as you currently speak, but I answer the title of Adeyemi, the Maximus Rex .”
“Wait. That means ‘greatest king.’ Don’t we all serve the greatest king?”
“No. We all serve the Alpha et Omega Rex, the Primus et Novissimus Rex, the Principum et Fini Rex. As you know, He also bears many names, but we generally refer to Him as The One True God. Now, I have told you our original purpose on the earth, but we were gifted with mates, just as you were. The story of Aladdin tells about a real boy, Abebe, who gave service to an Origin by seeking to protect my mate. It is also the story of the first Alpha Rex, though it is rather inaccurately told by the humans.
Aisha, the Ultima Regina is my bride, and the greatest example of her kind. Our mates are often mistaken for sprites, pixies and the like. My wife is often called Mother Nature, due to the task that she accomplishes. You see, Male Origin work with the fire to form, and to restore, rich and fertile lands upon the surface of the earth. We also work at the bottom of the sea, to ensure that the creatures that live there are given the warmth that they require to sustain life. After all, many of the building blocks that are necessary to sustain your life begin at the bottom of the ocean. Our mates work by coaxing the plants from the new earth, and encouraging them to grow. They dance before the Lord, praying for His favor in the fertility of the land.
One day, a group of evil men set upon my wife in the tropical jungle that existed in what is present day northern Africa as she danced, intending to force themselves upon her. Now, our mates are also born of the fire, though with differing properties, and are just as capable of using it to their advantage. However, just as my mate was about to transform these evil men into ash your ancestor, Abebe, happened upon the scene, along with his animal companion. He was a wanderer and an orphan, traveling from kingdom to kingdom. He was utterly destitute, living at the bottom rungs of human society with his only friend and hunting companion, a gray wolf. Yet, the nobility that lived within his heart would not allow him to leave this woman in her time of distress. He drew a blade and engaged the first of the four attackers in a fight. He and the wolf fought valiantly, killing two of those men, and Abebe was getting the better of a third when he was distracted by a cry from his friend. One of those men had managed to mortally wound the wolf with a blade and, in his momentary distraction; Abebe’s opponent was able to do likewise. In her fury my mate turned both of them, as well as their dead companions, into ash, and rushed to the side of her would be saviors while calling to me.
As they breathed their last, we decided to reward their valiance by ensuring that they would always be together. Therefore, with the permission of our King, we combined the spirits of the man and the wolf into a single being, with both logic and passion, both cunning and strength. We also replaced their spilled blood with our own, thereby adopting him as our son. His line has been our only issue, which is why we watch over all of you so closely. By attaching our spirits to those of the human and the animal, we formed the original Alpha Rex and from him, all other werewolves have descended.”
“Wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Our family name is Mungo, and I have straight, blonde hair and blue eyes. How can I be an African?”
At this, Mortimus laughed uproariously.
“It was just a question,” Warrick grumbled, feeling foolish.
“I am sorry for my laughter, Little Pup. I must speak with your father, as I believed that the wolf schools were doing a better job of teaching you all about the diversity that is to be found within the world around you. Yes, I know that color has very little significance in wolf life, because your mate could be anyone in the world. Therefore, most of your families are reminiscent of a rainbow. However, the knowledge of some truths should really be far more widespread.”
At this, Warrick considered his brothers’ wives. Now that he thought of it, of his eleven married brothers, their wives represented every ethnic background imaginable, resulting in a veritable spectrum of nieces and nephews, many of whom had marriages that were equally diverse.
“Africa is a continent, and not a small country. Upon this continent, mankind saw its birth. As such, the looks of the peoples of Africa are as diverse as the look of the surface of the earth, itself. Often, their looks are depicted in human media to be as foreign as possible to traditional Europeans, to make the wholesale theft of the wealth of that continent more palatable to the people who benefit there from. In truth, many native, indigenous Africans have the features that are popularly depicted, in the form of dark skin, thick lips, high cheekbones, wide noses and broad foreheads. Many of them also have coiled or kinky hair. The women are often powerfully built, with lush breasts, thick waists and rounded hips. Ah. I see that that the latter description pleases you,” he laughed.
Warrick blushed in embarrassment.
“Do not be ashamed, Young King. This pleases me, also. It is the look of my Aisha. However, there are others who are tall and willowy, with fewer curves, finer features and straight hair. Human clothing designers refer to them as ‘white girls dipped in chocolate,’ when the reverse is the truth. Others look like the modern day people of India, the indigenous Australians and there are even those who resemble the Europeans. Your ancestor Abebe was of the latter group. As a child whose ancestors had sometimes been Albino, he had lighter skin with blonde, coiled hair and blue eyes. His mate Nosizwe, however, had brown skin, finer features and straight hair.”
“Abebe had been overcome with love for this beauty when he saw her from afar, as she was carried through the city to her father’s palace. The ability to gain her favor was what he asked of us, when we sought to know what he would have us to give him. Fully aware that he had recognized his mate, even as a human, we set about transforming him from an orphan into a true son of our house, having great wealth and power. He was then able to gain her father’s favor and to marry and claim his mate. As a gift, we built Abebe a palace where he and his mate would reside, just as you built this Pack House. We also gave him the gift of a lamp, by which he might call upon us at any time. The flame, you see, was a reminder of our presence in the earth. He had only to light the flame and we would immediately come to give him guidance. If he did not have time to light the flame, he had only to rub the lamp, and we would immediately come to the scene of the emergency.
However, he wished to wait before telling his mate of the passionate, wolf-like spirit that lived inside him. He had not yet been given the ability to transform her into a wolf, as well, and he was pleased just to be her husband for a time. Several years later, when he finally gained the nerve to speak with her about our existence, an enemy spy was eavesdropping on the conversation. He stole the lamp, and helped Boipelo, a prideful prince who had been refused as a potential husband for Nosizwe, to enter the Palace with a small force of men and take it over while Abebe was away for the day. He took Nosizwe captive and had her women prepare her, as he intended to mate with her against her will that very night.
However, in his foolishness, he believed that Aisha and I were slaves to Abebe, and that by possessing the lamp, he also possessed our power. Therefore, when he called us to his side by lighting the lamp, he told us of his evil plans and ordered us to assist him to carry them out. Instead, we destroyed the many spies and enemy soldiers who were within the grounds of the Palace, and saved Boipelo for the mercies of our son, Abebe.
Upon his return home, Abebe lost no time in ridding the world of Boipelo’s foul presence, and begged our favor, that no such event might again occur in the House of Jengo. Thus, we created the place you know as The Clearing, to better train the Alpha Rex and Regina to utilize the gifts that we gave, so that they might always know the hearts of their companions, and so that they might better understand the nature of leadership, and the ways of battle. We also gave Abebe the ability to transmit the wolf spirit, both to his mate, and to his offspring. Approximately one year after their return from The Clearing, Abebe and Nosizwe gave birth to a son, who contained the gifts of the Rex. They worried that subsequent children might fight for the throne, until we assured them that those children who did would always fail, as only one child would be granted these gifts in each generation. You look very much like their firstborn son, your grandfather, many times removed, Azubuike. If I did not know better, I would truly believe that you were him, reborn.”
“As for your name, Mungo, means ‘builder.’ The original name for the family was Jengo, after the father of Abebe. This name means ‘building materials.’ Over the many centuries that have passed since that time, your family has lived in numerous places on this earth. Secrecy from humans has sometimes been necessary for safety. Therefore, you would adopt a name with a similar meaning that would not call attention to the family.”
“One more question. What about the other types of weres? Are they our cousins?”
“In a sense,” mused Mortimus. “The original ancestor Rex would also have given a service to The Origin, and were rewarded accordingly. However, none are of the royal blood of the Origin, and so Aisha and I only directly train your line. All others are trained by the nobles, rather than by the Royals.”
“Now, it is time for you to rest, Little Pup,” stated Mortimus, stopping the many other questions that were forming on his lips. “We have much to do tomorrow that will require a great deal of energy from you. You must go to bed now, or you will not be fit to participate in completing our tasks.”
Warrick wandered over to the bed and, as he climbed under the covers, he turned back toward what had been a raised dais containing Mortimus’ throne. Now, it only held his usual sitting area, with a banked fire in the fireplace. He snuggled down in his bed, content for the moment. “Goodnight, Grandfather,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, My child,” Mortimus returned, standing at the side of his bed.
Warrick did not bother to open his eyes, merely smiling slightly in response before allowing sleep to overtake him.
‘and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant.’