The Council

“Do you want to hear a bedtime story?” I smiled. He crossed his arms over his chest, turning his body towards mine, leaning a hip against the desk mirroring my stance. “Go for it,” he replied. “In the history of the world as it is taught, there was what was known as the original Aryan’s,” I began. “It became separated in tales of history to become known as part of the Hindu religion, but back then it wasn’t divided by what God you worshipped, but rather what your status was, your caste. There were four divided castes back then, four statuses. These four status’s were divided by religious purity, priests then warriors and nobility, then farmers, artisans, and merchants, and finally, peasants serfs and slaves.” “Wait,” he said, holding up a finger. “If it wasn’t divided by what God you worshipped, then how can it be divided based off religious purity?” “How devoted you were to the God’s you worshipped,” I replied. “I’m talking ancient Greece, Rome; there were many Gods back then. But the confusion also came with the wealth you acquiesced. Most believed the wealthier you were, the more blessed you were by the Gods, the higher status you had. Priests back then were not like those you see in today’s society. They lived in temples that baffled the mind in their splendor and opulence. Of course they acquired this wealth from ‘donations’ as a way to buy the favor of the Gods.” “So in other words, society and religion has been corrupt throughout the ages since the dawn of time,” he replied. “Well, not all of it,” I chuckled. “It is human nature to want power, status, and respect. It doesn’t matter what status you already are, priest to peasant, humans are all the same. It just depends on the nature of the person who happens to be in power at any given time what the shape of society is going to take.” “With great power comes great responsibility,” he quoted. “Literally,” I nodded. “Anyway, I was born in this time in history as a normal human girl. I was the result of a rape in a slave camp and never knew my father.” He looked startled. “This is quite the bedtime story, Ashton.” he said a note of unease in his voice. I shrugged. “It was thousands of years ago, Corbin. I don’t think I have any childhood scars left over from it. And my mother is long dead so she’s not suffering anymore. I grew up as a slave. I worked in the camps building the temples and palaces for the high priests who ruled over our lands from the time I could first pick up a shovel. I stayed with my mother out of necessity until I was twelve, then I was separated from her into another camp, only catching glimpses of her on occasion when we were worked in neighboring areas. My last night before they separated me from her, I remember lying beside her on the mat on the ground, staring up at the moon through the wide spaces in the overhang above our cells, consciously aware of how small and frail she seemed and making a silent vow to one day see her free from this prison. I never got to keep that vow. When I was sixteen I heard rumors amongst the slaves that an uprising had occurred in my mother’s camp and several of the slaves had been beaten to death by the guards. My mother was amongst the dead. I saw her body thrown on the funeral pyre and lit afire later that night. I think the last conversation we ever had was her whispering to me to keep my head down and keep working so as not to anger the guards. Her death always struck me as suspicious after that. She was not a confrontational woman.” “You must inherit that part from your father,” Corbin said wryly . “I inherited it out of necessity,” I replied coolly. “Back then it was a matter of survival. Kill or be killed. I became a target at the age of sixteen for the guard’s unwanted attention. Only through evasive skills I had developed did I manage to avoid becoming a victim of rape myself and repeating history over again with an unwanted child of my own. I knew however it was only a matter of time I would be caught and my fate was inevitable, but that was when there was tale of a great army invading the lands freeing all the slaves from the tyranny we were under. Slaves were acquired from invading villages and free lands in the surrounding areas, raids in the dead of night, able bodied people taken by force, beaten, starved, their wills broken until there was no choice but to obey. The remaining villagers started an uprising and began training in combat, making themselves into great warriors, an impenetrable army that was a force to be reckoned with. And that’s where your history comes in.” “What do you mean?” He asked. I smiled. “There was rumor of an elite army from the Northern regions that had been sent by a great king to help free the people of the south from the slavery and tyranny. This elite army joined with the makeshift soldiers from the villages, and together they stormed the palaces, laying ruin to all before them and freeing the slaves of my time. The thing that made this army elite and unstoppable was they were werewolves.” Corbin looked dubious. “Werewolves only change during the moon’s cycle.” I shook my head. “They do now, back then they had control over every aspect of the wolf. They could change at will, even in broad daylight. History being what it is and human minds being as limited in grasping foreign concepts as what they are, that army was whittled down to one being remembered in history today. The God Horace, often seen in carvings and statues in Egyptian history as an upright man with the headdress of a dog.” “So you’re telling me Horace is actually what history remembers of a great army of werewolves?” Corbin chuckled. “Well, how much more believable is it to have a ‘God’ who wore a dog headdress than to believe werewolves actually exist?” I replied. “I mean isn’t it part of your laws as a werewolf and mine as a vampire to remain anonymous amongst the humans so as not to be hunted regularly, so we can function normally within society?” He stopped chuckling and thought about it for a moment. “Good point.” he conceded. “Okay, so werewolves invaded and the slaves were set free. I assume you were among these freed slaves.” “I was,” I nodded. “But what is freedom by any definition? The werewolf army offered us freedom from persecution in their lands, but it meant just obeying a different set of laws and building temples and palaces for their priests and Kings. It’s human nature once again. Obey and command, set rules, set orders…History repeating over and over.” “Surely it was a little better for you?” Corbin asked. “Sure,” I replied. “I became the personal slave for a King based off of my beauty because he couldn’t find enough pleasure in his wife’s bed and wanted more of a variety.” “So you didn’t escape being raped after all,” Corbin said quietly. “Oh, I did,” I replied. “The first night at the palace when he tried to come into my bed, he lost a rather valued piece of himself. The King died from the wound and his Queen ordered me to be executed. I was sentenced to death the next day.”