ONE

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I couldn't see the sky anymore.

There were other things, instead. Colors, faces, voices. Pains, warmth, heat. A gentle touch, and then a hard one. Whispered, worried voices. Worried faces. Closed doors. Locked doors.

A wet cloth, on my forehead. My eyes opened, and I saw the she-wolf.

When she saw I was awake, she didn't say anything. She just kind of... smiled. It wasn't a perfect smile, because it was kind of kinked more to the right and it crumpled her mouth into a squiggly line. I thought I wouldn't have liked it if it had been perfect, though.

"My heart," I tried to explain to her. "It hurts." but my voice wasn't working right, and so I just kind of croaked like an old toad instead of managing to tell her about it.

"Shh," she said very quietly, and her paw ran softly across my forehead.

She's a mother. How do I know that? Someone must have done that to me before. But when? Who? Suddenly, there was a tear in my eye, and I couldn't stop it from falling hotly down the side of my face.

She didn't catch it. She just watched as it hit the cushion I laid on and make a small dot where it landed.

"Would you like me to help you get back to sleep?" she asked, quietly. "You need to rest."

Slowly, I nodded at her.

She smiled her wrinkled, imperfect smile again. "Close your eyes, then." she said. I obeyed. My eyelids had been getting heavy, anyway.

"This is a very old song that my mother used to sing to me." she whispered. "My grandmother used to swear it was magical, because it helped pups sleep so well. When you're better, you can tell me what you think."

A magic song. I wanted to hear it, so bad, so I could tell her what I thought about it. And so I was listening hard, listening so hard that suddenly I was asleep again, and I only heard the first few notes. Her voice was like a sparrow's; sweet, and calm, and beautiful.

I wondered when the last time I'd heard a sparrow had been.

"It's a good thing he heals so fast. If he hadn't, then we would have had to take him to the doctor."

"That would have been... problematic. Harboring someone like him could have meant a death sentence for you and your family."

"I couldn't just... leave him to die in the snow."

"Whether you did the right thing will remain to be seen, then. Thank you, Cliff. Please take care of yourself, and watch carefully over your family."

The voice was female, but it didn't sound like a sparrow's. This one was younger, rougher, and far more abrupt.

"Thank you for your help, Kimi. He would have died without your skill. I'll send you a raven in a few days, to let you and your master know how things are holding up."

This wolf's voice was male, and was husky, worn, and full of life. He spoke with honesty, and with caring.

Without warning, my eyes creaked open, and I sat up almost against my will, breathing hard. I felt like I'd just been released from some kind of spell, or as if I'd been tied down and just released. My body felt lighter, more alert. I stared at my paws; I had long, muscular legs, but I could barely see them under the mass of black fur that trailed behind my paws.

Tarius. The name came back to me suddenly, without warning. The voice in my head that said it seemed separate from the usual one. It was harsher, harder, but caring, as if it wanted what was best. Tarius.

Was that me? My name? The voice seemed to think so.

I closed my eyes, fell back down onto the cushion, and curled up into a tight ball like I was a pup again. My breathing hitched; there was something wrapped tightly around my stomach, and sharp pains there when I moved. I searched and searched my memory, looking for what I'd lost. It was infuriating, because I could feel them there. I knew, somewhere, that those lost memories still existed.

But where?! Why were they gone?!

The door exploded open, and I unfurled myself to stare up at the intruder. Standing in the door, radiating his presence, was a wolf who seemed to have red dust permanently smeared into his fur. He had a dark red pelt, and a tan underbelly. Across his shoulders was a long, jagged pink scar. He had swept his shaggy red fur to the side so it didn't fall into his eyes, which were hard, beetle-like, and the color of liquid gold. His features were square and sharp, and his jaw jutted slightly too far forward. Despite this, he was handsome, especially since he must have been in his early forties.

He seemed surprised, at first, to see me awake, but the surprise faded quickly. He and I looked each other over for what felt like several long minutes, taking each other in, soaking the details. I felt extremely self-conscious.

"Who was that?" I asked, finally.

"A friend." He responded. "Someone we know we can trust."

The big wolf jerked his head in the direction of the corner of the room, where there was a pile of cloth folded neatly. "That's what you were wearing when we found you. We washed it and got most of the blood out of it, and we had to patch up a few holes, but it should be just fine. You've been asleep two days."

I didn't know what to say. "Thank you," I blurted out, then quickly realized how much I meant it. "Thank you, so much."

He smiled a bit at that. "Don't worry about it, kid. Get up and come on out; we have a lot to talk about."

With that, the wolf left the room, and I steadily climbed to my four paws, using the wall as support. My legs trembled for a moment before they got used to the feel of the floor again.

Walking was kind of awkward, and had to be done with one shoulder against the wall to ensure I didn't fall over. Falling would have been incredibly painful, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to get back up again if that happened. I reached the corner examined the cloak that'd been left there.

It was a long, black cloak, too, with a weird blue symbol of a star on the back. The fabric was thick and soft, as if built for warm weather. My fur was thick, but I remembered the cold with a shiver and knew suddenly why I'd wanted to take such a thick cloak with me.

Stumbling a bit, I went to the door and pushed it open, where two pairs of eyes drilled into me. I hesitated in the doorway; I wasn't sure what time of day it was, and was feeling incredibly disoriented.

"Sit down." the big wolf said, kindly, and indicated the small cushion next to him at their table. Walking slowly, I obeyed, and sat gingerly.

I was in what looked like a round, clay hut, reinforced with logs and stones. The glass in the windows was old and hard to see through, but not so much that I couldn't tell that the sky was growing lighter. I guessed it must have been early morning. The furniture in the hut was worn, and mostly homemade. The quilts were patchy and thick, but put together with careful, skillful sewing. A cheery fire in a fireplace danced next to the table, and I stared into it, fascinated by the orange flames. I remembered that I'd seen flames, many times before, but I couldn't remember any specific instances. I shivered slightly.

"My name is Cliff, son of Benjamin." the brute said, looking at me oddly. "This is my sire, Taa. She is a Furnsdottir."

Taa Furnsdottir. So that was the name of the singing she-wolf. I looked up at the pair of them. Taa, despite her weary energy, wore a bittersweet smile and carried herself in a way that told me she was comfortable where she sat. Her golden fur was as straight as straw. Strands fell loose and into her face, and they seemed to highlight her eyes, which seemed to glint a sort of hazel color. She had very short fur, and wore a small, fur cape around her shoulders to help keep her warm.

I realized, suddenly, that they were waiting on me to introduce myself. Taking a small, scared breath, I said, very quietly, "I only know that my name is Tarius. At least, I think it is."

Cliff's thick eyebrows collided into each other, but he didn't comment on it. "Can you tell us what happened to you?"

I shook my head dumbly. "I... I don't... I can't..." I found myself choking on emotion, a warm, wet bubble forcing me to stop talking. I lowered my head and tried to force the tears not to come. "I can't... remember." I whispered.

Cliff and Taa exchanged glances. I couldn't read their expressions; the fire was casting them into shadow, making them hard to see when they turned their heads in certain directions. I could only see the orange-yellow lines that the firelight drew on their profiles.

"But you do remember what you think is your name." Taa finally said, kindly. "Right?"

I nodded, deciding on the spot that telling them about the weird, shadowy voice that had told me so was too complicated and would probably make me sound crazy. "Yeah, it's... it's Tarius." For some reason, even that name sounded weird, even though it was an incredibly familiar sound. It was an odd feeling, when something that felt familiar was something you didn't know. "But that's all. Everything else is gone."

It was silent for a while. Cliff and Taa seemed to be processing what I'd said, silently, trying to determine what it meant. I sat uncomfortably, lifting a paw to touch the bandages wrapped around my stomach.

"It was really bad." Taa said, watching me. "Three gashes, stretching almost as long as your stomach is wide. It's amazing that you're still alive, especially with what little medical attention we've been able to give you. By all means, you should be dead."

"Then why aren't I?" my voice was an odd sound. Unfamiliar to me. That wasn't how your voice should sound. "Why didn't I die?"

Taa took a deep breath. "You don't know, do you?"

There was a weird rush of air around me. I felt suddenly light-headed, and I dug my claws into the floor to keep from falling backward. I looked at Taa and Cliff and shook my head.

Taa's smile was gentle. "Can you walk? It's easier to show you, rather than to tell you."

I nodded, and got unsteadily to my paws. I followed Taa as she waited for me across the room. Cliff didn't move. He stared into the fire, head bowed in front of him.

There was a small shelf in the corner, next to a mirror as tall as I was. On the shelf was a very large candle. I looked wide-eyed at the beautiful carvings around the edges, shaped delicately and skillfully in the wax. They depicted suns, moons, and stars. I thought of the star symbol on the cloak back in my room.

Taa didn't light the candle. Instead, she very softly blew on it, where the flame should have been. To my surprise, the wick flared upward as her breath disturbed it, and the fire held on tight so it wouldn't be blown away, slowly growing. The flame may have been small, but its presence was impossible. The color, too, was wrong. Golden-yellow, and white. Far too...pure, to be normal.

"Take a look." Taa said, quietly. She stared at the mirror. I did, too, and let out a small noise of alarm.

The wolf staring back at me was a mess; wild, shaggy black fur, falling into my eyes, and in desperate need of a combing. A long mane of thick fur that ran down my neck, all the way to my mid-back. I had angular features, and stood slightly taller than Taa but not quite as tall as Cliff did. Around my midsection was a wrapping of bandages, slightly dotted with blood where it was starting to soak through. There were gray markings around my eyes, and a white marking on my chest, shaped like a V.

And the eyes. I was terrified of my own eyes. Hollow, staring, wild. Something so unfamiliar, so wrong, lived in those eyes. They stared back at me accusingly. They were dark blue, the color of dark water, or the early nighttime sky. In the dim lighting of the hut, they almost looked as black as my fur.

But there was something else on my fur, too, something that hadn't been there before. Markings that had appeared when Taa had blown in the golden candle. There were dark red markings running under my eyes, down the sides of my face, and intertwining down my legs and body. Runic circles and runes that mean terrible, ugly words. Words like cursed, monster, abomination, evil, killer.

And Riftborn.

I didn't feel like moving.

I realized Taa was very, slowly, and softly, touching me. I was suddenly spurred into action, feeling tainted and dirty. I didn't want her touching me, and so I stumbled backward. "What do they mean?" I asked her, desperately. "I don't..."

Taa shied away just as Cliff appeared. He was holding a book gently in his mouth. It was an old book, the leather worn, and the pages were yellowed and dog-eared. Without making eye contact, he placed it on the floor and flipped through the book until he found the page he was looking for.

He cleared his throat. "As the legend goes, there was once two races who lived in Cecila: the Apolrin, and the mortals. There were two kinds of Apolrin: those who used darkness, and then the ones who used light. The Apolrin in the light were called Celestials, and revered by mortals far and wide. They were seen as gods, and had the powers of them, too.

"On the other paw, the Apolrin of the dark were called demons. They served the Celestials, and protected them, and acted as their guards. But they wanted power. They were unsatisfied by what they'd been given, and they wanted to be worshipped, just as the Celestials had been.

"Consumed by their envy, they declared war against their former brethren. The war was long and bloody, and many were killed. In order to save us all, the Celestials gave the mortals portions of their power, the ability to use some of their magic. The war was won, and in order to protect the mortals, the demons were banished into the Nether. The mortals of the Kingdom of Stars were assigned to guard the Rift and prevent the demons from ever crawling back into Cecila again."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked. I felt suddenly really small; somehow, like I already knew the answer.

Cliff gazed at me sideways before he continued reading. "Although nowadays it is very rare to see Celestials outside of their Forbidden City or demons roaming freely outside of the Nether, both can easily be recognized—even the ones who look more like mortal wolves than Apolrin. If one is to light an Immortal Flame in the presence of a demon, runes in red will make themselves known, and the whites of their eyes will turn black when they are angry. The same thing happens with Celestials, but with runes of gold, and the blacks of their eyes will turn white."

I slumped against the wall, staring at my paws and trying to control my breathing. "So... so that means I'm a..."

Cliff's paw fell hard on my shoulder, keeping me steady. "Easy, kid. Calm down. You're gonna be okay."

I watched as Taa smothered the Immortal Flame on the candle, and the ugly, evil runes that had been on my body faded away. Cliff moved to block me from the candle, and I looked up at him. "Why'd you help me?" I asked. "If I'm a... if I'm a demon."

His gaze softened. "Because it was the right thing to do." he said, quietly. "Look at yourself. You didn't try to kill us the moment you woke up, as most storytellers would claim. You've thanked us. You've done nothing that would condemn you, in my eyes."

I nodded slowly. I felt suddenly fatigued. "Thank you." I said, very meekly. "I... I owe my life to you. I would have died."

"We light the candle every night, as is our tradition." Cliff said. "We happened to see what you were soon after—luckily, before we got the doctor."

"You're an easy patient." Taa said warmly. "Demons heal much faster than most wolves do. If you didn't recover as quickly as you did, you would have either died from your injuries or we would have had to expose you to a doctor--which is as good as a death sentence in itself."

"Where do those runes come from?" I asked quietly. "They're so... so..."

"The stories say that it was a punishment from the King of the Celestials." Cliff said. "That he wanted to ensure that your kind's true natures could be revealed to all."

I hung my head, feeling empty inside. "I can't believe this."

Taa and Cliff looked at me sadly. "I'm sorry. Tarius." Cliff said. "I don't know where you came from, or what happened to you, but we will do our best to help you find a place to belong."

I dipped my head, not sure what words to use. I'd almost decided when the entrance suddenly swung open, and two young wolves--they must have been around my age, perhaps younger--barged through, their fur crusted with frost and their noses fogged up. I instantly took a weary step backward with a sharp intake of breath.

They didn't seem to notice me immediately, as they were arguing about something. They were very different; one, like Taa, was thin and tall, with long, awkward limbs and the same wrinkled smile. He had red fur like Cliff had, and a white chin. He had golden eyes the same color as Cliff's, but with hazel flecks that reminded me of Taa's.

The second wolf didn't look like Cliff or Taa at all, except perhaps in the way that he held himself. His fur was a silvery gray that was very shiny and thick, but still short enough that I knew he was still feeling the chill of the snowy weather. He had dark gray markings, short legs, and was built sturdily. He had red stripes under his eyes and odd blue-colored symbols on his shoulders. I wondered if they were tattooed, or if they were natural.

Whatever they'd been arguing about, it stopped the moment they saw me standing there. They stood side-by-side, mouths hanging slightly open.

"Mom," the taller, red wolf said, suddenly. His voice had gone strangely high-pitched. "The dead guy's awake."

Taa smiled and came up to them, nuzzling his head. "Yes, he is. Ouray, Faylan, this is Tarius. He's going to be staying with us for a little while."

"Hi," I said lamely.

"Just to be clear," the red wolf that Taa had called Ouray said, "You're definitely not a zombie, right?"

"Don't be an idiot, Ouray." the silver wolf, Faylan, hissed. "There's no such thing as zombies."

"That sounds like something a zombie would say." Ouray glared accusingly at him.

"All right, calm down." Taa said good-naturedly. "Did you finish feeding the goose-elk?"

"Of course we did." Faylan grunted.

Taa nodded and went back to stand next to me. "Then I believe it's time for breakfast. Tarius, you must be hungry. I'm afraid we don't have much more than goose-elk or beetle-rabbit cuts at the moment, but..."

"That sounds amazing." I told her quickly. "I literally don't remember the last time I've eaten anything."

I was just kind of lying there on the bed after breakfast, combing through my mind for anything I might have missed, when Taa's two sons came in. I lifted my head and rolled around to face them, lowering my ears. I wasn't quite sure how'd they react.

So do they know I'm...?

"We know." Ouray said suddenly, before I could find the courage to ask. He smiled. "We're cool with it, I guess. I mean, we'd be dead if the stories were true, so I don't think I believe those stories anymore."

He elbowed the short silver wolf, Faylan, and he winced. "Yeah, yeah. We're okay."

"Thanks," I told them. A sort of warm feeling filled my throat.

Faylan, suddenly, burst out, "Is it true?"

I blinked. "Is what true?"

"That demon blood turns blue when you're in the Nether?" Faylan

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