[Story Contest] Once Upon a..

[techabyte]

pulling out cause I win a freebie. Good luck everyone!

Username:
xxxxx techabyte
Soquili's name:
xxxxx Neesha
Your story:
xxxxx ”All right little ones, come gather around. It’s time for a story.” The children smiled, far too excited to hide their squeals or shouts. And they gathered around the mare with the many tails, pressing close to her body and weaving amongst her tails. She waited patiently as they all settled around her, before she dipped her nose to press a little foal closer to her side. She took a deep breath, and began her story.

xxxxx Long ago, there was many herds that roamed these lands. Skinwalkers were a thing of myth and legend, and no one dared speak of their evil. They were merely an old foal’s tale. During this time, a great snow storm hit the lands. It blew so hard that many were stranded in their hollows, waiting for it to pass. Some died from starvation, others from freezing. It was so bad that many thought the world was going to be over. But, some brave stallions learned how to wield fire. And with that power they sought others to bring them to a land far to the south, where the ice stopped and the greens once more flourished.

xxxxx It was during this time that a young filly was traveling with her mother. They were trying to reach this sacred land. But as they traveled, the mother got caught with the chill. Their tracks slowed, to where they traveled only a few miles a day. The little filly, her fur as bright as the autumn leaves, tried to get , her mother to walk more and more. But it didn’t matter. In the end, she passed away in the cold snow, leaving the filly to fight for herself. The cold bit at her fur, and she refused to leave her mother’s side, mourning her. After hours of crying, a stallion with a mane like fire found her. He saw the pain she was in, and how she shivered despite her thick fur. And he tried numerous times to get her to leave, but she refused. So the stallion stayed, lying close to mother and foal to keep the little one warm while she cried.

xxxxx After a few days, the stallion finally managed to convince the filly to leave this place and come with him toward the south. He told her it would be what her mother would wish for, and she gathered her strength and left. He told her stories and poems to distract her on their path, and sang her songs at night to stop her crying and help her to fall asleep. Days passed, and the snow storm got worse. The only way the stallion could keep track of the filly as by her bright fur. And he told her that no matter what she must always keep her inner fire burning bright. It was how she would survive this horrible winter. She agreed, and grew fond of the stallion, staying by his side even after they gathered in the grass lands.

xxxxx The ice storm lasted many years, but it left a devastating blow on the lands. The ice melted and left dark branches and dead ground. And just like the lands, she changed. Her fire only grew stronger with each passing day, and she found herself being the voice of the herd. The small group wandered out of their sacred land, and started to help fixing the lands, trying their hardest to make it livable. But the snow storm moved on, and with it, the stallion said he must go. The young mare fought him, told him she needed him more than they did. But the stallion told her he must go, and she needed to stay, to help the people rebuild this land so others could find sanctuary when the snow storm passed. She had to lead them. He left, and she remained.

xxxxx The foals started to ask questions, shouting to be heard over others. She laughed soft, and her ears swiveled at each one. “But what happened to the stallion?” “Where did the mare go?” “What happened to the lands?” She hushed them softly and smiled, her eyes bright.

xxxxx ”Well, little ones… We are living in that very land. We are here, to keep this place safe in case another ice storm hits. We will remain here until the stallion returns to us and tells us otherwise.” The foals made excited noises. They shouted and stood to go play. Neesha stood slowly, shaking out her long mane and smiled faintly. Her grandmother had left a lot to her, protecting this land. But it had been passed down for generations. And it was her turn to keep them safe. And she would do just that. Until the stallion of legend returned.
Music to fit the theme:
xxxxx x - x
What was your inspiration / influence?
xxxxx I'm not really sure? I just started to write, and let it come and go as it wished. I didn't really have a general direction lol. Thank you for holding the contest though! :3  

[Regal Renegade]

Username: Regal Renegade
Soquili's name: Fuyu - "Winter"
Your story:
Gnarled hands made weak by the passage of time unsteadily grasped the wooden carving of Grandfather North as dark eyes held in place by several wrinkles swept over the faces dancing in the firelight. “My children,” his cracked voice was just barely audible above the roaring fire which forced the youths to lean in, “this is the tale of how Grandfather North spared my life during one of his most chilling snowstorms.”

“The tribe had shown tremendous disrespect to Grandfather North by neglecting to leave offerings, and he showed his displeasure by coating the land in a blanket of snow so thick that not even the heaviest of furs could dissuade the cold.

Our people were on the verge of extinction, and the fear of Wendigo’s was growing with each passing day. Hysteria and terror were a constant state of being, and so the chief sent a few of his strongest braves into the wilds in search of food. Possibly even in search of some type of penitence to quench Grandfather North’s impossible ire.

Though I was already progressed in years I was selected for this quest because of my deep knowledge concerning the spirits around us. But, as I marched directly into the eye of the storm I hadn’t any idea what perils I would face.

Snow was hurled from the sky with unimaginable speed and quantity and the chill began to take hold of my feet and hands, but goaded by desperation I walked on in hopes of saving our people. I knew I would be unable to make out any signs of prey in the area, but I walked on. After a time the howling of the wind drowned out all other sound and I was certain the Wendigos we had all feared had finally found me.

My legs gave in to the overwhelming cold and I soon collapsed face first into a large snow bank where I was certain I would breathe my last breath. Tears froze in my eyes before they could fall as I thought on my family and all of those in the tribe, and about how horribly we had treated Grandfather North. We had not asked him for an easy winter, we had forgotten our way and this was the price we were to pay.

As my breath grew slower and my body grew numb I heard the most beautiful, melodic sound being carried on the wind. Just like that the howling of the Wendigo’s vanished and all I could hear was a gentle ringing. This is my time, I thought, and what a peaceful end to such a horrid situation.

As I waited to be swept away I was shocked to feel warm furs being piled atop me. I could barely make out their magnificent white and blue coloration, unlike anything I had ever seen before. I fought to turn my head, and upon looking skyward I was met with an icy blue gaze that could only belong to Grandfather North. All else was obscured by the raging storm, but those eyes held within them a distant yet tangible empathy.

Hours or years passed as I gazed into those eyes, and I realized that I had found our penitence. I would weather this storm with Grandfather North to atone for my part in not honoring him. I would bear the punishment for all our people and, if I survived, I would revive our old ways.

I do not remember falling asleep, but when I awoke the world was bathed in a golden light and all was silent save for snow slipping from branches in the distance. Warmth danced across my back as the sun welcomed me to the land of the living and beside me, preserved in the snow were pawprints. I did not know what to make of such markings, only that Grandfather North must have taken the form of a large animal in order to save us all.

To this day whenever a violent snowstorm strikes I can still hear a melodic ringing in the distance, and I know that it is Grandfather North telling us that everything will be okay. That the sun will return, and that we are forgiven for our trespasses.

Our winters ever since have been mostly peaceful, and we never forget to leave offerings to Grandfather North.”

Music to fit the theme: {X}

What was your inspiration / influence? I was influenced by the Native American lore surrounding the "Four Directions," as well as the Wendigo - though they do not play much of a part.  

[Sami-Fire]

Username: Sami-Fire
Soquili's name: Ammue
Your story:
It's an old story passed down between generations. A beautiful woman sings the song that will either destroy or create.

A beautiful, haunting voice echoes through this chamber on full moons and other magically-charged occasions. The voice is feminine in tone, versatile enough to slip between alto and soprano. It rings in your head, as though you can feel it echoing off the insides of your skull.

Some say it is an empty song, a song that means nothing. Others say it invigorates and inspires. No one can ever say how.

The song rings in your head, sticking, pulsing, looping through your brain. It calls to you, but leads you nowhere and yet everywhere at once. It gives you a strange hunger, a pining for something you can't identify. You want, but what?

Is it a holy hymn, or a malediction?

Some say the voice sings for souls who have not passed on. Others say she sings to lure people to certain doom, or at least curses. What is known is that some people have seen a beautiful mare resting in this chamber, yet she disappears shortly after being seen. She could be a ghost, or she could simply be very stealthy.

Rumors abound. No one has been able to get her to stay around long enough for any investigation. She may be a watchful spirit, or she could be a perfectly normal Soquili with a strange talent.

She sings the song of her heart.

The song is in a language no one can recognize. Perhaps the mare made it up herself. There is a powerful sense of emotion behind the singing, so the listener is moved even if they do not know the meaning. Everyone's reaction to it is different. Some feel calm, others deeply unnerved.

Still, the song echoes. It lingers. You are left wondering. You will search for answers and not find them.

The mare and her song are shrouded in mystery.

Music to fit the theme: MIO + Method Metafalica
What was your inspiration / influence? I knew I wanted to focus on a mysterious singer right away, something ethereal yet beautiful and haunting. As for the structure of the story itself, I was kind of thinking of how the narrators of Eldritch Abomination stories talk. There's a certain crypticness to the details in those stories, and it maintains a good eerie feel.  

[vampireluver123]

Username: vampireluver123
Soquili's name: Myrsky (Finnish for storm)
Your story: The moon in the sky hung low and seemed to have a much bluer shade than normal. The old one smiled up at that as if it was and sign and nodded. "Yes I understand." The old storyteller walked in and waited as a crowd gathered around. "Hello I have a story to tell. This is a story that you might have heard told before but not like this. For all those others are from people who heard it from another and so details have been lost and changed. So listen carefully to the tale I have to spin for you. Take it as truth or merely another fancy of an old storyteller but for those who don't take the grain of salt that all tale contain you might end up on the wrong side of a frozen river and never realize it until too late." A howling wind blew through the group as those last words left the storyteller's lips. Some in the crowd shivered and stepped forward not sure if this was a sign or merely strange timing and should be ignored. The storyteller just smiled and looked at each of the people who were gathered around.

"Now here is the story I have to weave for you all this fine evening under a blue moon."

On a night many many seasons ago so long not many even remember it there was a mare. She showed up along a frozen river wailing she seemed to appear out of the snow itself. A wail so poignant and heart achingly desperate anyone who heard it felt a need to go and see what she needed. When they found her she would be walking back and forth along the river with tears streaming down her face wailing for a loss. What she had lost no one could figure out. All they knew was that every night as the snow started to fall a mare would swirl out of them and the sad lament would start again. It was such a haunting melody everyone wanted to help her. To understand the mystery of this icie mare. Was she real? A ghost? Or some specter that came to plague their village.

Little ones would go out to try to comfort her some came back and spoke of the forlorn mare who had lost something she had loved more than anything. And other children never came back at all. Now no one could figure out why some came back and others didn't. But all were certain of one thing. They would not let their little ones out at night. Days pasts and the mysterious ice mare disappeared. And the little ones who had disappeared were found. Some alive others were found in the frozen river. No one could understand how they had ended up in a frozen river.

One of the little ones who had been returned stared at their family sadly "I want to go back with her. She's so sad." The little one would repeat this every time they were asked what had happened to them. They looked at the little one inspecting them to make sure they truly were unharmed and they saw a mark of a snowflake with a tear in it on the side.

Many days after the child had been returned this little one was telling the other little ones what it was the sad mare had lost. And what this little one had told was the story of the snow mare it was the reason she wondered by river banks in the winter. It was what she was searching for and what she had lost and it was why some little ones returned and others did not.

For before she was what she is now she was merely a mare with a family. A mate she loved and little ones she adored. Everything seemed good and yet one day something changed. It was a cold bitter night with the wind howling through the mountains. And the ice lashed at everything making it dangerous to go out from any form of shelter that had been found. Yet they had run out of food. Or knowing how bad of a storm was coming. They had water yes but no food.

The stallion went out wanting to get his mate and little ones food so they would not starve. Days past and the mare didn't see her mate coming home. She had a little food left over that she gave her little ones. She had faith her mate would return. He had to return since they needed him. The storm only got worse and yet still he didn't come back. As the last of the reserves of food she had dwindled he returned.

But there was something different, something wrong. He seemed changed. A hardness and ice had crept into his heart. She saw some wounds on him and he dropped the food he had managed to get at their feet. It wasn't enough for them all to survive. He glared down at them. As if it was there fault a snowstorm had hit and they didn't have enough food.

The mare only cared about her mate and little ones since she always wanted others to be safe and happy. She tried to get them all to settle down and relax hoping the storm would end soon. But no the storm would not end for what these did not know was that one had angered the spirit of the mountain by daring to trespass and take something from the heart of the mountain and now the mountain was taking its revenge out on all those who inhabited its territory until the thing could be returned.

As the harsh brutal days went on the stallion seemed to get even harder and harsher as if the storm had entered his heart. She woke up one terrible morning to find her youngest little one and mate were gone. She raced out of the cave they had been staying in not caring about the ice that lashed her sides and cut her. Not caring that she couldn't see where she was going or if she would lose her footing and break her neck. All she cared about were her babies. Her little ones were all that mattered to her anymore. She couldn't let anything bad happen to them.

She made it down to the river too late. She saw her mate with her baby. They were on the frozen lake and he was breaking the ice around them. "This one is too weak and little. Will only die. Better to use mercy and end if for this one. Give the others more chance to survive." She screamed and screamed for him to stop. The ice was already too broken up for her to go out onto it to get her baby back. She screamed as they fell out of sight and under the frozen ice. She screamed until she had no more voice and colapsed to the snow covered ground. She had failed her baby. Her baby. Her baby and mate were dead. The river had taken them.

The storm had taken them! Her precious baby and her beloved mate. So strong and good yet he had changed. She railed at the mountain and screamed at it some more with no voice left. She had just enough strength left to make it back to her other two little ones. She collapsed next to them spent. There was no hope. She and her babies would starve.

She couldn't let her babies waste away like that. It was cruel to them. Once she had recovered enough strength she got up and took her little ones down to the river. They were delirious from hunger and followed their mother not knowing where it was they were going. Knowing only they would follow her cause she was their mother. She stopped near the edge of the river and shook. She had to do this for her babies. To save them from the slow painful death of starvation. The cold of the river would numb them and it was be quick. She told herself the cold would get them and just make them feel nothing.

She just kept telling herself that over and over as she guided her Bavaria into the water. She shook as the last breath left. She kissed each ofbthen on the forehead as she let the river take them. She wailed to the sky and then went in after them.

The mountain heard her cries and felt pity knowing the good spirit she had been. It granted her a chance to find her babies. Whenever there was a bad storm the snow would form to be her again and she would search night after night to find her missing babies. For what else is a mother to do? Her babies are her everything and she must find them. Yet because of her actions she would have to atone for them before she could find her babies. She was forced to wander night after night crying out for her babies. Until the day she has atoned for her actions and can find them.

The little one wanted her to find some form of peace. And wanted to help her. The little one looked for her night after night in every storm. Wanting to be there to help. Yet she never came back to the small village. She went to other villages and the story spread of the snow mare with the haunting cry and storm blue eyes searching for something.

And now you too along with that little one know what it is she is searching for. Her little ones. So if you hear a mournful sound at night during a storm be careful for it might not be the howl of the wind or cry of a wolf. It could be the snow mare trying to find her little ones. So keep your little ones safe and listen to her take for maybe one day she will have a different song to sing. So hold your little ones close and cherish those you love in your life for they are truly what is most important. And don't hold back for life doesn't always turn out the way you had planned.

And if the people looked close enough they would see what looked like it could maybe be a snowflake with a tear drop on the side of their story teller. The people stared in complete shock many unsure if they were seeing what they were really seeing. Or maybe it was just a trick the storyteller was using to make the story seem more real. And yet could this old story teller who looked ancient really be that little one that had been taken and returned by the ghostly specter. But the people did know that they would be keeping a much closer eyes on those they loved when the storms hit and they heard something in the night.

Music to fit the theme: Going under
What was your inspiration / influence? yuki onna and la llarona
I've always loved the story of yukionna and the different myths surrounding this woman. I wanted to incorporate a little of this.
I've also always been fascinated by all the different stories people who live around rivers especially the rio grande have to tell of a ghost woman who drowned her children and now cries along the edge of rivers waiting for children to wander out so she can take them. I also really like the different stories of ghosts and spirits and Shinto how everything has a spirit and that spirit is to be respected.
I also was inspired by story telling in general and the art of oral traditions. How stories change and evolve with each telling and with each person who hears them. How sometimes the storyteller feeds off of their audience and will tailor a story to that audience.
I also was inspired by how people can change under certain situations and when something happens it can make someone do things they never thought they would do.  

[medigel]

Username: medigel
Soquili's name: Frostburn
Your story: Some days, if you pay the fine of a mouthful of fermented berries, the right kind of soquili will tell you the story of why ice can burn as fire.

There was once a herd whose name has long since drifted from memory, but whose hooves shaped the very land with their passing. Mountains and valleys formed from where they dug for roots. Rivers were carved from their oldest paths. Plants and trees came from the dust and nether-pollen from their birth beyond time. In this period, all things were individual: Fire burned but did not give Light, as Light shined the way but gave no heat. In turn, all who were born knew their place from the moment they could walk without trembling. The world had no doubt in its existence, for each had its place and purpose.

There were once nine Heirs to the Leads. There was once a Speaker whom they all loved.

A Speaker is not a storyteller, or a counselor in the way you and I know them to be. A Speaker knew the names of things before words had been understood for them. A Speaker understood the power in these sounds and never used them for harm, only to catalogue, keep, and maintain balance should something go awry in the herd. A Speaker knows the rhythm and cadence of every dance that was ever formed in a sentence. A Speaker taught me the importance of repeating, as you hear now. A Speaker taught me that repeating meant remembering.

A Speaker is, in short, a shaman in the true nature of things. A Speaker is, in short, a shaman of names.

There were nine Heirs to the Leads, and they all wanted the Speaker as their mate. Each day, a different Heir came to her.

Your voice is more beautiful than any bird's, the first tittered.
Your mane shines more than any jewel from the earth, the second rumbled.
Your wisdom runs deeper than the oldest river, the third gushed.
Your eyes pierce through to my soul, the fourth marveled.
Your touch could bring down mountains, the fifth whispered.
Your mind moves faster than the wind, the sixth sighed.
Your beauty makes snow dirty in comparison, the seventh crooned.
Your laughter could usher in the seasonal Spring, the eighth declared,
Your sorrow would blanket us all as clouds do the sun, the nineth said.

The Speaker enjoyed these attentions, but it was the nineth Heir who caught her eye. Youngest of them all, he had no chance at defeating his brothers in terms of strength or wit or cunning. He had fallen to despair before there was a true name for that blackest pit, for an Heir with nothing to inherit was inherently empty in all senses of the word.

And so, The Speaker took pity on him. In his company, she tried her best to cheer him up. When words wouldn't do, she ignored the rules of her position and began to use the true names of things over time, that the nineth heir would feel their power resonate when she spoke. The stamina of the bear. The eyes of the eagle. The wisdom of the owl. The power of a mountain cat. The resourcefulness of the raccoon. The cunning of the fox. The speed of the hare. The determination of the ant. The confidence of himself.

She did not know what she had created until she spoke his true name. It was then that The Speaker learned what it meant to give someone the names of something it was not. Transformed before her was a creature she and no other Speaker since could give a name to. Given new powers and no longer suffering from doubt, but mindless and torn into many identities, the nineth heir slaughtered his brothers and much of the herd before they scattered to the four winds in fear.

With that abomination came further mixing of things as it roamed the world. Water and ice became fluid mixtures that fell from the sky. Stars fell and burned the earth. And yes, ice became as fire if held too long. But the burns from it came from the Speaker herself, who swore that one day she would mend what was broken and threw herself into the newly formed water-ice, which froze and burned her until she became purified. That is why ice is clear as well, shed from the Speaker's tears as she was transformed, and that is why it burns, just as her will did in that promise.

The Speakers keep this story of nine brothers and the speaker safe over the years as a sacred duty, some say, for one day the exiled Speaker will return to untwist what had been bent. They told it to me so that one day all will be aware and ready. As they told it to me, so I've told it to you.

Music to fit the theme: [x] (insofar as the telling him things to make him feel better, not the kill everyone part kjghggfs)
What was your inspiration / influence? No specific influences, although true names were inspired by me currently listening to The Name of the Wind. I've also found that oral stories in general have a lot of repetition for the same reason the narrator states (to help with remembering it as well as to emphasize the importance of something), so I wanted to incorporate that into the tale. Thanks for the contest! <3  

[Irish Night Fox]

Username: Irish Night Fox
Soquili's name: Eira
Your story: There is this story that was shared with my Gran when she was just a filly. It’s something that wasn’t super popular so I don’t believe you could call it a legend or myth, but it was one that touched my Gran.

Pa was a part of a herd that made great journeys. Gran explained that they were a religious sort and their religion called for them to make these pilgrimages once a year. This year was different though, the winter weather had pushed far into spring and with it came a deadly frost and unpredictable winds across their mountain pass. Despite it all, a small group of them, including Pa, decided they still had to go. It’s what was expected of them every year, they couldn’t forgo it.

They were foolish of course, but didn’t realize the consequences of their folly until they were in the heart of the winter storm. Snow piled up past their knees, blinding ice wind bit at their eyes and fur, and directions weren’t clear. Their trek through it seemed unending, but all they could do was tuck in their heads and continue pushing forward- if forward was even the way they were headed.

At one point Pa lifted his head and saw just white before him. He called out but his voice was drowned out by the roaring storm around him. He felt panic grip his heart and for a moment he took off through the snow. It kicked up around him, ice sticking to his fur and mane. He kept on, eyes and heart wild, until he couldn’t catch his breath thanks to the cold air. It stung his lungs and he did what he could to take in shallow breaths to keep the pain at bay. Was he alone?

He stood frozen in the wasteland. What was he to do? With no direction he could very well die out here. Staying still wasn’t an option in his mind so he willed his limbs to carry him on. He’d eventually out walk the storm, wouldn’t he? It was the only hope he had to make it home- To make it to his mate and family. The tears stung so he kept his mind on his task. One hoof in front of the other.

Eventually the white gave way to a bit of grey. Was that a form? He squinted, turning himself in its direction. Though he moved towards it it never seemed to near. It started to become frustrating, but at this point it was the only thing keeping him sane. It was something else out of all the white snow around him.

At first he thought it was a trick of his eyes, but soon the grey began to form into a figure. He could never fully catch what they looked like through the blizzard, but a large billowing tail and an icy coat could be made out. Why did they continue forward? Were they leading him somewhere?

He kept walking. On and on it felt like. His mind became so muddled with exhaustion he couldn’t keep time straight. The only thing that kept him on was when the figure before him would look over their shoulder at him and pause to wait for him to catch up.

This kept on until he didn’t think he could keep it up. His legs were shaking and his lungs heaving for breath despite the cold pain. The blizzard around him wasn’t breaking and he was fading fast. The cold was biting at his flesh and blurring his vision. He just- he just needed to lay down.

Something in the back of his mind told him it was a bad idea, but his body gave into the idea. His knees buckled under him and his body fell into the fluffy snow. He fought to keep his eyes open, but sleep threatened to overtake him. He’d almost completely forgotten about his savior when their familiar figure filled his sight. He tried to lift his head towards them, but couldn’t even manage that.

They delicately made their way towards him. Fur as white as the snow around them, mane and tail as soft and light, even the way she moved was like a gentle snowfall at the start of winter. The raging storm around him seemed to silence itself at her voice, “Rest now, weary traveler, rest.”

He did so.

As tired eyes began to slide shut, she came to his side, her billowing tails wrapping around him. Instantly warmth surrounded him, but also filled him. Despite sleep finally claiming him, he felt a newness within. He was going to make it, and it would be thanks to his winter savior.

There isn’t a clear understanding of what happened then. He found himself waking time and again from his fitful sleep to her sweet face attempting to help him drink something or caring for him. As he grew stronger he’d wake for longer periods of time, but at the same time she wasn’t there as often. It got to a point where she was only there in his dreams, singing softly to him.

He’d lived to tell the tale, but not many believed it. He couldn’t be sure of it due to the state he’d been in and could never fully describe the savior mare other than in comparisons to snow. At the same time, no one could explain to him how else he could survive out there on his own when he’d clearly been on the verge of death.

But I believe it.

I haven’t told anyone, but I’ve seen her too. That same storm came back just a few years ago. We’d taken the smart route and gone around the pass, but when I looked back… I saw her figure. Just as clearly as it had been described to me. I blinked and she was gone, melting back into the storm. Still, I know what I saw, and words would never be enough to thank her for what she did for my family.

Music to fit the theme: Crystallize - Lindsey Stirling
What was your inspiration / influence? Honestly, all of those movies about people getting stranded on mountain tops is what came to mind first. I hate them so much, but I understand that a story about survival grips at our hearts. So, I thought it would be nice to write one about a mysterious savior.  

[SkyDragono]

Username: SkyDragono
Soquili's name: A'rras Ijak
Your story: Lightning flashed, and several moments later, a rumble filled the air. Another storm was rolling by. Though it could not hurt those that were in the village, safely under the ceilings of palm fronds and grasses, the youngest members of the village still feared the lightning as the gods wrath. It was Ama'te's turn to distract the younglings from the storm.
"Come to me," she called soothingly to the younglings. "I have a story for you, that will keep you from listening to the thunder and the rain."
Several of the children came over, and she smiled, knowing that soon the others would come. They always did like listening to her speak, even if they were stubborn about it. But she knew she would win them over.
"Now, this story began long ago, when our people first came to this island..."

The ancestors had thought they had come across paradise as they landed on this unclaimed island. It had many trees, a lot of space, and was part of a group of islands that would be easy to expand to. Things couldn't have been better. The first months, the focus was getting houses built to shelter the explorers, and then starting to build gathering areas. All was going well, until one day, one of the mothers approached the leader, Adrgon.
"I cannot find my daughter," she told him. Adrgon assumed that the girl had most likely wondered off, but he put down his building tools and gathered a group of men and women to help him find her. However, they found no trace of the girl, even after several days of searching. Then the question was, how could the girl vanish, especially on an island where all you had to do is find the beach, and follow it home. All that could be assumed is that something happened to her, and that is why she didn't make it back. They mourned her, and then went back to the setting up the village.

A week later, another mother reported that their child was missing, and another search proved fruitless. Then the next week, an adult went missing. No, Adrgon was becoming worried. No trace was left of those that were missing, and not one of the missing had yet made it back to the village. What was causing these disappearances. The hunters and fishers tried to no avail to find a trace of the missing, and not even the best could find them. Finally, Adrgon called in 8 of his people, and their guidance he trusted. Five of them were hunters, and four were elders who had gained much knowledge. For many days they debated what to do. Finally, it was decided that they would go after whatever was hunting them, and not risk any more people.

After setting Lefim in charge of the village, the 9 set out to find their hunter. Ris was the huntsmaster, with his younger brother Rephiliphium along to help. His knowledge of the footed and winged creatures was amazing, and he just had a knack with understanding how animals though; both prey and predator alike. Ank and Sistrit were two of the best fishermen of the village, and were along just in case whatever they faced came from the sea. Izenveniphar, Jamikaru, and Akki were elders, and had gained their knowledge through many years of life. Kevunue was the only younger member of the group besides Adrgon, and he was one of the best trackers. For many days they crisscrossed the island, looking for any signs.

On the third day, they came across a cavern with bones near the front. Some were ancient; hundreds of years old, while others were new, and looked very humanlike. They had found the lair of whatever hunted them. Ris and Rephiliphium readied their weapons, but they were already too late. There was a sound coming from the cave, like a tsunami breaking on the shore. And this misty creature came out of the cavern; gleaming eyes and teeth. The nine tried to face it, but it was a creature of shadow and death, and though they had crossed oceans, they were not equipped to face such a creature of the land.

They lay wounded and spent on the ground, knowing that they would die, and the knowing the village would be hunted to extinction. Adrgon reached for Ris, knowing that though the two men had had their differences, they would be on equal ground when they died. And that was when something strange occurred. A light enveloped them both, making the mist creature back away. And Adrgon understand, in ways that he couldn't say, what he needed to do. Ris reached for his brother, and Adragon reached for Akki, and they continued until in some way, they were all touching each other. And then, the light became blinding, and each faded into it, until they became part of the light.

The nine felt themselves woven together, until they became one, and the light shattered around them, leaving behind a nine-tailed fox; whole and determined to take out this ancient threat. The misty creature roared, but the fox froze parts of it, letting them drop to the soil. When it attached, they feinted, removing more and more from the beast until finally they reduced it to nothing but dust, and the village was safe.

The nine never did separate again, and learned to listen to each other; honing their own strengths together, and finding their weaknesses. They continued to watch over the village too, though as a guardian and protector. Stories were told about the nine-tailed fox. Some even worshiped it as a deity, but the truth was it was only nine men, who gained the power to protect those around them by sacrificing what they were, to become something so much greater.

Music to fit the theme: Immortals X
What was your inspiration / influence? A bit of Moanna as this is the Aloha region. But the rest, I based it off the pokedex entry, talking about the nine sages that came together to become this pokemon.