Hiking through the woods was easy, the wolf in him wanted to be freed and run around but Brynjar resisted, he needed to think over the revelations that had come up recently. Learning more about Glwyn, Gwyfr and Cölled, as well as learning about how things had changed and history had been twisted to make his family appear better and more leader-like than they actually were. While the Alphas were all good leaders of the clan, none of them bar Gwyfr were Anasi material and they didn’t want to be, they all thought Clan Svard deserved that role more. It meant that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts, that his feelings of uncertainty and questioning whether he was right for Anasi or if there was someone else better suited. Now the question was whether there would be any Clan Svard left out there. If there were, would he fight them for the right as Anasi or let them take the role? There were definitely some he knew that he couldn’t let become Anasi but that was just his view on some of the Lupo he had met since he left home.
Gathering his hair into a tight, high bun, Brynjar sighed. Currently he didn’t want to push to be Anasi, he didn’t have many that he thought would side with him and while many knew he had wanted the role, the fact was they didn’t understand it wasn’t truly what he wanted. He was content being Alpha, in fact there was enough responsibility and pressure from that role that he didn’t need more by becoming Anasi as well. He was last of Clan Threist so the pressures of finding a mate and conceiving children was a heavy burden, Brynjar wasn’t sure he would want children or be a good father but he knew few would care about that. If he didn’t pick a mate and have children then he would be killing off a noble house and weakening the Lupo people as a whole. Even more pressure was he had to fall in love with a Kaiha as well, which didn’t leave many options and Brynjar wasn’t sure how he could go about courting a female. These thoughts were plaguing his mind heavily as he was casually walking to his destination, he wanted to think of them since if he didn’t now, then they would only plague his sleep.
Finally he found himself at the shrine to Cérmæ, it was clearly an abandoned shrine, nature had taken back the location and the roar of the waterfall was distant to what he thought it would be. Brynjar thought he should take care of the shrine before he did any digging for the axe. Rolling his shoulders, he grunted as he knew he would be spending several hours clearing and tidying the shrine. However, as he worked, he knew how important this shrine had been to his family since it was dedicated to their chosen God and she deserved their respect and honour. If they couldn’t keep up the care of a shrine then why should they ever deserve to maintain the gift she had bestowed their ancestor. Cérmæ could have turned Glwyn away like the other Gods but she listened and respected him, that respect deserved to be returned to her. His body was slightly sweaty as he worked, he was glad he kept his hair in a tight bun and that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, it meant that nothing was clinging to his body as he worked hard at ensuring the shrine looked as good as it could. The area was slightly damaged and well worn but Brynjar took the time to read the stone inscriptions and admired the main plinth that was dedicated to Cérmæ. From the inscription, this appeared to have been built by Glwyn’s family as they believed that Cérmæ was an important deity, since protecting the woods and peace had been crucial ideologies of Clan Threist. They also sought out her wisdom and followed her guidance since they believed that she would help them find inner peace with their wolves. It was interesting how spiritual and dedicated to Cérmæ his clan had been before.
Brynjar paused and placed a hand on the plinth, “Cérmæ, I do not know if you are still listening but hopefully restoring this shrine has demonstrated that I won’t abandon the history that my clan has with you. And that, if you choose, will help me with the decisions and family pressures that I have been dealing with. I understand if you cannot or choose not to, but I wanted to ask since you had helped Glwyn and many others in my family.” Brynjar sighed deeply then felt a breeze pass through him, the breeze caused goosebumps to form on his skin and he looked around. He was sure it felt like someone was wanting to embrace him but he was alone. Was it his mind playing tricks or had Cérmæ come to him and thank him? Part of him felt it was likely nothing but another was certain that the Goddess was thankful for restoring her shrine and his words. Or at least wanted to believe that to be the case.
Once that was done, Brynjar looked around, the clearing for the shrine was small and there didn’t really seem to be a resting point around here that seemed suitable for digging up. The roaring of the waterfall was still distant but it was calling to him, pulling him in that direction. He wasn’t sure if it was instinct or guidance but he walked towards the waterfall. When he arrived, it was smaller than he expected, it wasn’t a massive drop, only a couple dozen feet tall. Falling from the top wasn’t a death sentence, he had thought the waterfall as being a massive thing several hundred feet tall. Perhaps that was his childhood imaginations plaguing him and not thinking a bit more practical. Brynjar spotted an island at the base of the waterfall, he wasn’t sure how to get to it without swimming but he knew that he wasn’t the strongest swimmer to fight the current. He could try jumping over to it but then if he missed or overshot he would end up in the water and have the issue of swimming again. The island was definitely where he needed to go, his gut was certain of it and it looked to be the perfect spot to meditate with a God with the shrine not too far away.
Stepping closer to the edge, Brynjar couldn’t get a good view of whether the water was deeper than him or not. He wanted to say it wouldn’t be and he would be fine standing and wading across but if he was wrong then he would end up in trouble. This was the final challenge, the final blockade to his quest. He was determined not to let water defeat him, figuring it would be better to see if he could wade across then attempting to jump, fail and end up in the deep end. He walked forward, the water was icy cold and as he felt the water creeping up higher, he could feel his body shudder, gasp and struggle to take deep breaths. He had to calm his body as he continued forward, letting the shock of freezing water pass as he continued to wade. It was reaching his abdomen and getting higher, he was nearly at the island though so he felt confident that his height would allow him to reach the island before he would have to consider swimming. Once he reached the island, he pulled himself onto it, it seemed to almost be man-made since the water didn’t get shallower around the island but remained as deep.
Standing in the middle, Brynjar looked around and took in the beauty of the location. It was evening time so the sun was setting, he wanted to take in the sight of where his clan had truly begun. It was here with Glwyn that Clan Threist had started, it was truly a beautiful sight with the waterfall noise as well, there was an air of peacefulness and if he were to meditate here he felt sure that he could gain insight. Shifting into his wolf form, he sniffed the ground, the small island didn’t have much room to hide the axe but he thought it wouldn’t harm to sniff to make sure. He couldn’t smell anything bar the normal forest scents. Deciding to start in the middle, Brynjar started digging. He wasn’t sure how deep he was going to have to go with his digging but he thought it was better to get it done earlier than later. Heavy paws and sharp claws broke the earth up easily as he shoved the earth aside over and over for a good hour or so, finally he felt something against his paws that wasn’t earth. In fact what he had felt was fabric, torn and weathered by being buried for centuries, it was clearly wrapped around an axe, done to keep all the shards together. Shifting back to his human form, Brynjar pulled the wrapped axe out of its grave and set it to one side. He pushed the toiled earth back into the hole and ensured that the island looked fine. It might take awhile for the grass to return to the patch but otherwise he felt comfortable leaving the island with the axe as the aura of the island had not changed which was important to him.
Holding the axe, Brynjar was able to launch himself across the river and land on the other side. The jump had been easier than he believed it to be and rolled his eyes; he could have avoided being wet if he hadn’t been so cautious. However, it was done now and he couldn’t change that, instead he needed to focus on the axe so he placed it down gently on the ground and unwrapped it. The axe was definitely shattered, Gwyfr had not deceived his family with that knowledge, the axe head had been what was shattered, which made sense, that was the part that was the most use of an axe. It was longer in the hilt than he had thought, the head was not something he enjoyed the look of either, Brynjar was more hand-axes or battle-axes than great-axes. He was touching the metal axe and feeling the ancient design when he spotted a note that had been buried with the axe. He opened it up, it must have been another message from Gwyfr when he buried the axe.
To whoever found Medelwr,
I hope that you have only the best intentions for this axe, that you are wishing to restore our clan and that you can forgive me for my harsh and brash actions. I could not let Bradwr hold this tool and use it with the destructive and cruel intentions he held. I know he would only do our clan harm if he held it because he told me that he fully intended to use the axe to take the role of Anasi by force. I could not let that happen, while he could still become Anasi, this axe was meant to uphold peace and not meant to harm Lupo people.
It took a lot to shatter this axe, both mentally and physically but once I achieved it, I could tell that whatever gifts Cérmæ had bestowed upon it was gone. The axe could be reforged and still be a dangerous weapon due to the metal it is made from is unlike any other I have seen. However, the Goddess’s gift that made this axe so legendary has been lost. I am sorry to have done this, and I understand if you hate me but I have one small piece of hope for you.
Find Glwyn’s grave. Whatever he has buried with him might be able to restore Medelwr, I do not know for certain if it could since I couldn’t find his grave at the time I wrote this. However, I do know that at some point he spent time in the deserts, so begin your search there. All I know is that when I meditate on how to restore the axe, Glwyn’s name comes to mind.
Find his grave and restore our clan’s glory.
Gwyfr, last true Alpha of Clan Threist and Anasi of the Lupo people.
Brynjar could howl in pain. The hardships, the effort and time that he had endured to find this axe. The promise it had held and it was lost. Gwyfr had broken whatever enchantments or other gifts that Cérmæ had built into the axe centuries ago. How could he use this axe now? It was no different to the ones he did have, it held no name and wasn’t the axe that could restore his clan’s honour nor could it be used to demonstrate his worthiness as Alpha of Clan Threist. He punched the earth hard and shouted out in frustration. He had wanted to search for Glwyn’s grave; that had been something he could have done at any time, when things with the Fayth were sorted, when he was bored with the peace. Now he had to find the lost grave, he had to search the entire globe looking for his ancestor’s burial place. Starting in the desert plains, Brynjar sighed. He needed to restore Medelwr before he could fight the Fayth, not just because it proved his worthiness but because Medelwr was made to protect the Lupo people and how could Brynjar do that without the weapon Cérmæ had made specifically for that.
Laying on his back, the night sky was appearing now that the sun had set, stars twinkling. He was glad he didn’t have to search the galaxy for the grave. Hopefully Gwyfr’s lead was right. It seemed his ancestor was eager to search for Glwyn as he had been. Looking at the shattered remains of Medelwr, if this axe was going to be reforged and restored, it was going to be in a design he wanted. That was his last thought as he closed his eyes to sleep.
Gathering his hair into a tight, high bun, Brynjar sighed. Currently he didn’t want to push to be Anasi, he didn’t have many that he thought would side with him and while many knew he had wanted the role, the fact was they didn’t understand it wasn’t truly what he wanted. He was content being Alpha, in fact there was enough responsibility and pressure from that role that he didn’t need more by becoming Anasi as well. He was last of Clan Threist so the pressures of finding a mate and conceiving children was a heavy burden, Brynjar wasn’t sure he would want children or be a good father but he knew few would care about that. If he didn’t pick a mate and have children then he would be killing off a noble house and weakening the Lupo people as a whole. Even more pressure was he had to fall in love with a Kaiha as well, which didn’t leave many options and Brynjar wasn’t sure how he could go about courting a female. These thoughts were plaguing his mind heavily as he was casually walking to his destination, he wanted to think of them since if he didn’t now, then they would only plague his sleep.
Finally he found himself at the shrine to Cérmæ, it was clearly an abandoned shrine, nature had taken back the location and the roar of the waterfall was distant to what he thought it would be. Brynjar thought he should take care of the shrine before he did any digging for the axe. Rolling his shoulders, he grunted as he knew he would be spending several hours clearing and tidying the shrine. However, as he worked, he knew how important this shrine had been to his family since it was dedicated to their chosen God and she deserved their respect and honour. If they couldn’t keep up the care of a shrine then why should they ever deserve to maintain the gift she had bestowed their ancestor. Cérmæ could have turned Glwyn away like the other Gods but she listened and respected him, that respect deserved to be returned to her. His body was slightly sweaty as he worked, he was glad he kept his hair in a tight bun and that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, it meant that nothing was clinging to his body as he worked hard at ensuring the shrine looked as good as it could. The area was slightly damaged and well worn but Brynjar took the time to read the stone inscriptions and admired the main plinth that was dedicated to Cérmæ. From the inscription, this appeared to have been built by Glwyn’s family as they believed that Cérmæ was an important deity, since protecting the woods and peace had been crucial ideologies of Clan Threist. They also sought out her wisdom and followed her guidance since they believed that she would help them find inner peace with their wolves. It was interesting how spiritual and dedicated to Cérmæ his clan had been before.
Brynjar paused and placed a hand on the plinth, “Cérmæ, I do not know if you are still listening but hopefully restoring this shrine has demonstrated that I won’t abandon the history that my clan has with you. And that, if you choose, will help me with the decisions and family pressures that I have been dealing with. I understand if you cannot or choose not to, but I wanted to ask since you had helped Glwyn and many others in my family.” Brynjar sighed deeply then felt a breeze pass through him, the breeze caused goosebumps to form on his skin and he looked around. He was sure it felt like someone was wanting to embrace him but he was alone. Was it his mind playing tricks or had Cérmæ come to him and thank him? Part of him felt it was likely nothing but another was certain that the Goddess was thankful for restoring her shrine and his words. Or at least wanted to believe that to be the case.
Once that was done, Brynjar looked around, the clearing for the shrine was small and there didn’t really seem to be a resting point around here that seemed suitable for digging up. The roaring of the waterfall was still distant but it was calling to him, pulling him in that direction. He wasn’t sure if it was instinct or guidance but he walked towards the waterfall. When he arrived, it was smaller than he expected, it wasn’t a massive drop, only a couple dozen feet tall. Falling from the top wasn’t a death sentence, he had thought the waterfall as being a massive thing several hundred feet tall. Perhaps that was his childhood imaginations plaguing him and not thinking a bit more practical. Brynjar spotted an island at the base of the waterfall, he wasn’t sure how to get to it without swimming but he knew that he wasn’t the strongest swimmer to fight the current. He could try jumping over to it but then if he missed or overshot he would end up in the water and have the issue of swimming again. The island was definitely where he needed to go, his gut was certain of it and it looked to be the perfect spot to meditate with a God with the shrine not too far away.
Stepping closer to the edge, Brynjar couldn’t get a good view of whether the water was deeper than him or not. He wanted to say it wouldn’t be and he would be fine standing and wading across but if he was wrong then he would end up in trouble. This was the final challenge, the final blockade to his quest. He was determined not to let water defeat him, figuring it would be better to see if he could wade across then attempting to jump, fail and end up in the deep end. He walked forward, the water was icy cold and as he felt the water creeping up higher, he could feel his body shudder, gasp and struggle to take deep breaths. He had to calm his body as he continued forward, letting the shock of freezing water pass as he continued to wade. It was reaching his abdomen and getting higher, he was nearly at the island though so he felt confident that his height would allow him to reach the island before he would have to consider swimming. Once he reached the island, he pulled himself onto it, it seemed to almost be man-made since the water didn’t get shallower around the island but remained as deep.
Standing in the middle, Brynjar looked around and took in the beauty of the location. It was evening time so the sun was setting, he wanted to take in the sight of where his clan had truly begun. It was here with Glwyn that Clan Threist had started, it was truly a beautiful sight with the waterfall noise as well, there was an air of peacefulness and if he were to meditate here he felt sure that he could gain insight. Shifting into his wolf form, he sniffed the ground, the small island didn’t have much room to hide the axe but he thought it wouldn’t harm to sniff to make sure. He couldn’t smell anything bar the normal forest scents. Deciding to start in the middle, Brynjar started digging. He wasn’t sure how deep he was going to have to go with his digging but he thought it was better to get it done earlier than later. Heavy paws and sharp claws broke the earth up easily as he shoved the earth aside over and over for a good hour or so, finally he felt something against his paws that wasn’t earth. In fact what he had felt was fabric, torn and weathered by being buried for centuries, it was clearly wrapped around an axe, done to keep all the shards together. Shifting back to his human form, Brynjar pulled the wrapped axe out of its grave and set it to one side. He pushed the toiled earth back into the hole and ensured that the island looked fine. It might take awhile for the grass to return to the patch but otherwise he felt comfortable leaving the island with the axe as the aura of the island had not changed which was important to him.
Holding the axe, Brynjar was able to launch himself across the river and land on the other side. The jump had been easier than he believed it to be and rolled his eyes; he could have avoided being wet if he hadn’t been so cautious. However, it was done now and he couldn’t change that, instead he needed to focus on the axe so he placed it down gently on the ground and unwrapped it. The axe was definitely shattered, Gwyfr had not deceived his family with that knowledge, the axe head had been what was shattered, which made sense, that was the part that was the most use of an axe. It was longer in the hilt than he had thought, the head was not something he enjoyed the look of either, Brynjar was more hand-axes or battle-axes than great-axes. He was touching the metal axe and feeling the ancient design when he spotted a note that had been buried with the axe. He opened it up, it must have been another message from Gwyfr when he buried the axe.
To whoever found Medelwr,
I hope that you have only the best intentions for this axe, that you are wishing to restore our clan and that you can forgive me for my harsh and brash actions. I could not let Bradwr hold this tool and use it with the destructive and cruel intentions he held. I know he would only do our clan harm if he held it because he told me that he fully intended to use the axe to take the role of Anasi by force. I could not let that happen, while he could still become Anasi, this axe was meant to uphold peace and not meant to harm Lupo people.
It took a lot to shatter this axe, both mentally and physically but once I achieved it, I could tell that whatever gifts Cérmæ had bestowed upon it was gone. The axe could be reforged and still be a dangerous weapon due to the metal it is made from is unlike any other I have seen. However, the Goddess’s gift that made this axe so legendary has been lost. I am sorry to have done this, and I understand if you hate me but I have one small piece of hope for you.
Find Glwyn’s grave. Whatever he has buried with him might be able to restore Medelwr, I do not know for certain if it could since I couldn’t find his grave at the time I wrote this. However, I do know that at some point he spent time in the deserts, so begin your search there. All I know is that when I meditate on how to restore the axe, Glwyn’s name comes to mind.
Find his grave and restore our clan’s glory.
Gwyfr, last true Alpha of Clan Threist and Anasi of the Lupo people.
Brynjar could howl in pain. The hardships, the effort and time that he had endured to find this axe. The promise it had held and it was lost. Gwyfr had broken whatever enchantments or other gifts that Cérmæ had built into the axe centuries ago. How could he use this axe now? It was no different to the ones he did have, it held no name and wasn’t the axe that could restore his clan’s honour nor could it be used to demonstrate his worthiness as Alpha of Clan Threist. He punched the earth hard and shouted out in frustration. He had wanted to search for Glwyn’s grave; that had been something he could have done at any time, when things with the Fayth were sorted, when he was bored with the peace. Now he had to find the lost grave, he had to search the entire globe looking for his ancestor’s burial place. Starting in the desert plains, Brynjar sighed. He needed to restore Medelwr before he could fight the Fayth, not just because it proved his worthiness but because Medelwr was made to protect the Lupo people and how could Brynjar do that without the weapon Cérmæ had made specifically for that.
Laying on his back, the night sky was appearing now that the sun had set, stars twinkling. He was glad he didn’t have to search the galaxy for the grave. Hopefully Gwyfr’s lead was right. It seemed his ancestor was eager to search for Glwyn as he had been. Looking at the shattered remains of Medelwr, if this axe was going to be reforged and restored, it was going to be in a design he wanted. That was his last thought as he closed his eyes to sleep.
