Ah, so it is time. It is a day that I have been waiting for. Years, I have waited, though I wonder how much longer Solaris might have waited for such a day before he met me. It is a day I am sure many will mourn. Many will raise their voices to the sky and cry out. It must be done, however. Their feelings on the matter are inconsequential. I am cognizant of what this day will involve and what, from it, shall come for Moladion. Nonetheless, it will happen now. It is a new era and we cannot progress while the remnants of the past linger like shadows, or like flies over their deceased legacies. We must prune away these branches so that fresh offshoots can begin to sprout. The land has regrown once: it can do it again.

Despite the excitement that bubbles beneath my flesh, the day continues on as calmly as ever. The sun rises and falls, beginning its farewell beyond the horizon. It is then that I cross the river, moving with ease across the boulders that separate Glorall and Diveen. Perhaps some part of me chose such a place so that this journey would be made easiest for me. I will be able to watch the response unfold right before my very eyes from the safety and comfort of my own home. Still, I cannot help but wonder: what would mother think? Anselm? Ayal? He had been there all throughout our childhood and yet, I have never felt a love for him. He taught but he hid from our questions, snapped at our ears. He reserved a place in our life without our consent. I cannot help but wonder why at times. There is only one way to find these answers, and mother has promised us many on this very day. I do not think she thought it would come so suddenly, so out of the blue.

I move across the territory markers with little concern, ensuring my path is clear and concise. After all, I am but a victim in this. It will be a sad day: I have come to visit my mentor, a wolf who has been there since my birth. I come seeking his advice and to give him news, for it was only some time ago he told me to begin becoming great through the use of my bloodline. Spread it far and wide, as he did. I have come to share in this news with him - six children, all healthy. I wish to know what I am to do with them. How do I ensure their safety? How do I raise them to become strong enough to stand up to the risks that come with being born to an Alpha? I will be the victim when something strange occurs - a wolf so strange to me, savage and cunning. Even I cannot stop this wolf. Even he, the assassin they all speak of, cannot stop this wolf. I will be stoic in times of distress, though. They will look upon me, perhaps, with suspicion and yet, each time they mention his name, I will grow quiet in thought.

There is a certain kind of pleasure in playing the victim. Everybody needs a secret, right?

I find him then, seated atop the same rock he often sits. He seems content there, and I alert him of my arrival soon enough. I come straight for him, my head tilted in curiosity as I see his face alight with a rather unusual expression even for him. I wonder if he can feel it. I wonder if it is palpable in the very air - the silence, the stillness. Soon, such words will be used to describe him. The red that floods the landscape will flood the waters of Moladion. It is tragic, perhaps, and yet it is merely a part of life. Perhaps there is a part within me that wonders why it is we must do this. Why does he not do so himself? It would be more dignified in such a way. I suppose somebody, though, must enact the will of nature.

"This winter," my eyes slide to meet his as I speak, my voice merely an informative one at that, "I have created children."

I do not sit, but rather I stand in waiting. My body language does not hide my intentions: I sway slightly atop my paws, seemingly ready to lead him forward. I remain quiet for some several seconds before I speak once more, feigning a hesitancy.

"One - a girl - has asked for you. She hears stories. She is convinced you are a god."

I let one side of my lip pull up in a jester's grin, assured that he will find the idea humorous in itself. In all honesty, I do not know what any of my children might have heard regarding Heyel. I do not care to find out as it is. They will hear their own stories about him in due time and it will be their decision as to whether they believe it or not. But still, perhaps there is a kindness somewhere within me. For all his stubbornness to make way for the new world, this Heyel has done his job well. He has infiltrated the very folklore of an entire region. That, in itself, should give him permission to die with the belief that even the newest generation will speak of him so fondly.

"There are few I wish for them to meet," I finally say once more, my voice quieter now, haunted with an innate suspicion. I have always been as such. "I figure you meeting them can do no harm. They are in Asteraia though. It is why I have come this night. To find you. To show you them when I can be assured no other will follow."