A Quick Note on The Song of Jacob

Given the fact that this story was written with a very small community in mind, I think some justification would probably be in order.

There is an online game called Shadowbane, due out the Spring '02. Those of you who are familiar with games such as Ultima Online or Everquest know the type--it's your basic Massively Multi-user Online Role-Playing Game. If you're into that sort of thing, this promises to be one of the good ones.

What I found interesting about the world they created is that they wrote the fact that players can't permanently die right into the fictional world history for the game.

Which is more-or-less where this idea came from.

I was able to find two places at the Shadowbane Website were mentions were made of the actual events surrounding the Turning. What wasn't there, I made up. I don't know whether or not oil lanterns will actually be in the game. I'm not completely sure of the ins-and-outs of being a werewolf in the game. I'm not sure whether the name 'Jacob' has already been reserved for another history already written, but as-yet unpublished on the site (or if it's there, and I just missed it).

What I'm saying is, don't be surprised if this story suddenly changes for no apparent reason. If I'm able to get any of the Head Honchos down at WolfPack to read this sucker and verify/deny a few things, it could be that some minor changes will happen.

Anywho--onto the story.

Hope ya like it.

The Song of Jacob

fiction based on the world of
Shadowbane™

by
Scott Charles Adams
a.k.a. Iago Steele

 

Release denied, life holds us fast
The Revered Pass
Became a lie.

And now we search for loved ones gone
Life marches on,
We cannot die.

from The Song of Jacob
Bard Unknown

The Wolf loped through the dim, cold wood, paws crunching dried leaves atop the frozen ground. It would begin to snow soon. Very soon.

Often, Jacob found the Wolf within him foreign, distant. It robbed him of his language, his fears, his ties to all things human. The Wolf understood only the hunt and the hunger, and everything beyond those two concepts was but a passing thought, a short-lived distraction. Tonight, however, Jacob found the hunt and the hunger quite comforting, and the Wolf eased him of the burden of Man--a burden which was unusually heavy at the moment.

Jacob could smell his home long before he could see it--which was always the way of it, particularly when he was the Wolf. It was a combination of things: the soaps his wife used on herself and their daughter, the lingering odor of the spices she used when she cooked, the apple wood he'd cut for their fires months ago, the scented oils she burned in their lamps--all of these things wove together to form a single, distinctive scent he knew only as 'home.' That scent carried the Man to the surface of his awareness, and he walked the final hundred yards of his journey on two legs instead of four.

He stood outside his cottage for a time, pondering the culmination of tiny miracles which had granted him this life. A beautiful wife, an amazing daughter, a cottage in the woods as quaint and cozy as any he'd ever seen--the All-Father had truly been generous to him. He wondered how much of that was about to change, but only for an instant. He wouldn't think that way. He stubbornly refused to think that way. The All-Father was kind and benevolent--his own life was proof of that.

The front door of Jacob's home opened, and Maya stepped out. He was still deep within the shadows of the night, but not so deep that she didn't know he was there.

She seemed hesitant in her speech, and when she did speak it was clear--even to Jacob--that she was not speaking her thoughts. "They say the war's nearly over," she said. "Kierhaven won't last through the night, and the elves will be vanquished."

"Good," the werewolf said.

"Jacob," Maya said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied from the dark.

Hesitantly, she approached him. "What did the mystic say?"

"She ... she didn't say anything," Jacob said. "She's dead, Maya."

"She's what?"

"She's dead. She was dead when I got there--dead by her own hand."

"Dead by her ..." Maya's voice trailed off. "Did she leave anything behind? a note, or letter? a rune?"

"Yes--a letter," Jacob said as he moved closer to his wife. "It was a riddle or something ... I didn't understand it. Paliun was with me--he wanted to bring the note to Brylen, so I let him."

Maya blinked with surprise several times, robbed of her words. "Brylen?" she demanded with amazement. "The mystic left a riddle behind before killing herself, and you let Paliun bring it to Brylen? Brylen can't even solve the riddle of chewing with his mouth closed." Her voice drifted off again, as her mind slowly pieced together more of the facts before her. "Why was Paliun with you?" she asked.

Jacob suppressed a grimace ... he hadn't intended to let slip that little detail. Sadly, deception was slightly beyond Jacob's mental means.

"I ... we ..." he stammered, trying to think of something ... some small little white lie that would keep him from revealing everything and causing her needless worry. Maya saw through the attempt immediately--just like she always did. And her reproachful gaze told him that she wanted the entire truth, just like it always did.

"Paliun arrived at the mystic just after me," Jacob said. "He had a dream just like mine."

Maya made no reply to this. Her eyes grew distant and thoughtful, and she turned and walked away from Jacob, towards the cottage. The werewolf followed solemnly, unsure what she was thinking. As always.

She sat in one of the wooden chairs on their tiny porch. Jacob hesitated for some time before following her example and sitting in the chair beside her. For long moments, the only sound was the utter silence of a dead winter's night. Finally, Jacob spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Maya asked.

"That I lied to you. I wasn't going to tell you about Paliun's dream, and that was wrong. And now you're mad at me."

Maya reached across the span between the chairs, taking Jacob's hand. "I'm not angry at you, you hairy beast. You never could lie to me--that's one of the things I love about you." She paused for a moment as her thoughts shifted again. "How much of the note do you remember?"

Jacob thought real hard. "I remember it rhymed," he said.

"What else?"

"It ... it said that the ..." he struggled to remember, and suddenly it all came to him in a torrent of words. "It said that the All-Father would abandon us on the second day of the moon with truth, and that the passage between the living and the once-living would be closed forever when the All-Father turned his back on the world, and that the Turning would follow the Death of the One King. That's it. That's everything I can remember."

"Then you know what you need to do, don't you?" Maya asked.

Jacob nodded. He might not be the sharpest sword in the forge, but he knew which way the wind blew.

"Daddy!" Jacob shifted forward to turn in his chair, but before the action could take him very far a blonde-haired eight-year-old girl had leapt into his lap and thrown both of her little arms around him. Usually, Jacob would have laughed and returned the embrace--but tonight, the embrace was firm but silent.

"What are you doing up, Lil' Pup?" Maya asked, breaking a long, uncomfortable silence.

"I was up in my room and I could smell Daddy was home so I came running down!" she blurted as her father quietly held her.

"Is that so?" Maya asked with mock skepticism. "Smell him, could you? What do you think you are? A werewolf?"

"I'm Desdi, the little-girl werewolf!" she squealed with delight.

Jacob put his finger on Desdi's lips to silence her, and pretended to listen to the sounds from the woods. "Listen," he said. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" she whispered, playing along in their oldest game.

"I think I hear ... I hear ... a monster!" At the word, Jacob's mouth and nose quickly pushed forward into a muzzle, his eyes turned yellow, and his face turned hairy. In an instant the change was gone, leaving them only with Desdi's scream and the subsequent hysterical giggling.

"It's a monster!" Jacob shouted again, the same quick transformation from and to human accompanying the word. Again Desdi screamed and giggled. One day, Desdi would tire of this game--and on that day, Jacob's heart would break. But that wasn't a concern right now. Right now, there was only the game and the joy and the love and a beautiful wife and an amazing daughter.

Eventually, Maya plucked Desdi from her father's arms, cradling the little girl for a few moments.

"You have to get back to bed, Lil' Pup," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too," Desdi said. Jacob watched as the two greatest miracles in his life kissed each other.

Maya set her down, and Desdi and her father exchanged a kiss and 'I love you's. She headed inside, but Jacob stopped her just inside the door.

"Desdi," he said, "don't forget to close those shutters."

"Why?" she asked, knowing what was coming, and ready to explode with childish anticipation.

"Because if you don't, the monsters might get in."

Desdi screamed again and vanished into the cottage. Jacob stared after her long after her disappearance.

"Jacob," Maya said quietly.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Jacob wanted to tell Maya that he considered her presence in his life a tiny miracle, a generous gift from the All-Father. He wanted to tell her that his devotion followed her to the moon and back, and then back to the moon and back again with devotion to spare. Sadly, he lacked the words to voice such thoughts--so he told her in the only words he knew.

"I love you, Maya."

"You have to find Cambruin at Kierhaven--you, and as many of the pack as will follow. This night is the night the mystic wrote of in her prophecy. And that prophecy rings true--it rings so true I can scarcely breathe. This is the night of the Turning. If the All-Father abandons us, we are lost. It falls to you and your pack to protect the King, Jacob."

A light snow began to fall. The light from the fire within their cottage shone through a window, and reflected orange from the tiny crystals collecting in Maya's blonde hair. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen--yet another gift from the All-Father.

"I will do as you ask," Jacob said. "And they will do as I ask. Cambruin will not die tonight."

"Protect him with your life, Jacob," Maya said. "If Cambruin dies, I'll know it--but so long as you protect him with your life, we will not be separated from you in the Turning. Have faith in that. Other worlds await us, my Love."

Jacob didn't quite understand what she meant by this--and decided that it was a poetic way of telling him that she loved him.

"I will protect him with my life," he vowed.

The mystics saw with certainty
The change to all that was to be
All races unto Chaos hurled
The Death of One would change the world

from The Song of Jacob

"By the All-Father's white fuzzy beard--why are we hunting here?" Brylen snarled from Jacob's right. "All prey has been driven away by Cambruin's seige of Kierhaven. Four leagues in any direction, and we might find something. But here?"

Jacob turned on Brylen. The eye-contact, the position of his body, the lack of fear in his odor, all told Brylen that silence was a prudent follow-up to his complaints. The rest of the pack said nothing, scattered nearby among the the dark, snowy trees. The debate between Jacob and Brylen would be settled by Jacob and Brylen--their Beta and their Alpha. The contest of wills between them was too close to call, and none of the lower-ranked of the pack would dare choose a side.

Protect him with your life, Jacob ... the words echoed in his ears. His presence here was important to Maya, and all else could go hang.

"Our prey tonight isn't elk, Brylen," Jacob said evenly. "And it's here. It's all around us."

Brylen inhaled deeply. "All I smell are bloody elves and bloody humans," he mumbled. "Which will feed us? Surely, you're not thinking we should take a side in this war."

"Surely, you're not thinking we shouldn't," Jacob snapped. "You read the mystic's letter, didn't you?"

"The mystic's letter was meaningless poetry," Brylen said. "The war between the humans and the elves holds no meaning to us. We are neither. Let them fight a thousand more years--we'll glut happily on the casualties of both sides."

The pack murmured agreement--all but Paliun, who'd shared Jacob's dream.

"Maya doesn't share your opinion," Jacob said. At the mention of her name, the group went silent--Maya had long ago earned respect among the werewolves. "Ask me, Brylen," he continued. "Ask me whose opinion I value more."

The sounds of battle drew them from their conflict, and within seconds both men were clamboring awkwardly on human legs to the edge of a clearing. The moon shone true upon the snow, lighting the scene before them like the beginning of twilight on a summer's day.

The elves numbered twenty, maybe more. And the pack watched as those numbers dwindled to nineteen, then eighteen, then sixteen--despite the fact that the humans numbered only three.

Two of those humans were difficult to see and impossible to identify. They fought well and valiantly--but it was the king and the sword to which all eyes fixed. Shadowbane, being wielded by Cambruin--they'd all heard the stories and the songs, but those tellings paled to the experience of watching the man from the cover of woods and darkness. It was beautiful--and terrible--to behold.

All at once it was over. The horde of elves lie bleeding onto the snow, dead or dying. Cambruin stood at the ready, prepared for further battle. One nameless human leaned on his weapon, panting steam from the exertion; the other also stood at the ready, but oddly the fight had left him facing towards the other two rather than away from them.

Paliun leaned on a tree. "It's the dream," he mumbled, barely audible.

"You see?" Brylen whispered hoarsely. "Your hero-king is fairing just fine without us. Come ... let us find a more fruitful hunting grounds for this evening."

Before Brylen's order had even finished his lips, the leaning human lunged. From where the werewolves stood, it appeared that he had charged the king and missed by a wide margin. It took a moment for their eyes to find the arrow, protruding from the distant man's chest.

"Archers!" Jacob shouted, as the change began in him. His voice abruptly lowered in pitch as he bellowed to the rest of the pack, "Join me now and fight, or rot in the Hell of your apathy!" Then he was off, dashing through the woods on four legs, following his nose and his instincts to find Cambruin's attackers.

Jacob didn't turn to see how many of his pack were behind him--and perhaps, that was for the best.

He ran. He ran faster than he knew he could, his canine heart pounding in his chest, frigid air making his lungs ache with an ignored pain. Great paws crunched the snow as he ran, ran for Maya and Desdi, ran for the All-Father who had granted him those wonderful miracles.

Protect him with your life, Jacob.

He didn't notice the cry of pain from the clearing. He didn't notice the snow, glowing fiery red on the ground all around him. He didn't notice that the archer's eyes were fixed upon the sky, the drawn bowstring lowered to his chest, his face a mask of terror and bewilderment. Jacob the Wolf leapt at him, closing his jaws on the elf's throat. He drove the archer to the snow underneath him as he landed, a pink head with pointed ears crunching into the snow just a few feet away. Blood rushed over Jacob's teeth and jaws as the elven body thrashed beneath the wolf's. The archer was dead. It was over.

Jacob padded through the snow to the very edge of the clearing, to discover that it really was over.

Cambruin leaned against a great tree in the center of the clearing, pinned to it through his back by Shadowbane. The sky burned with divine fire, and the earth itself seemed to wail and grind in anguish. Jacob struggled to keep his footing as snow shook from the trees around him, filling the air with crimson powder.

This was it. This was the dream.

This was the Turning.

Behind him, a wolf howled a death-cry. Jacob turned to see Paliun, an enchanted blade driven through his noble heart by an elven hand. Two more of them ... Jacob hadn't even seen them.

Words of power floated to his ears over the din of the greiving earth and the roaring sky ... a spell being cast by the other elf. Then there was fire, and the thick smell of burning hair and flesh, and pain unlike anything Jacob had ever felt.

And then, for a short time, there was nothing.

A pack of beasts at distance saw
The fighting cease, the Elf Lords fall
And then the lie that damned all souls
Betrayal high upon the knoll

from The Song of Jacob

Jacob woke lying in snow, at the base of a glowing white tree.

He was dead. This was what death was like. Maya had been right--it was just another world. That was all. In fact, the differences between this world and the one he'd just left were surprisingly less than he would have imagined.

"Jacob?" a familiar voice asked. Jacob lifted his head from the snow to see Paliun standing over him.

"Paliun?" That's right ... Paliun had been killed, as well. It only made sense that he'd be here. "I'm sorry, Paliun," he said. "I didn't know those other two were there. I'm sorry I got you killed, too."

Abruptly, he realized they weren't alone here. In fact, there was a small crowd around them. One of them in particular seemed awfully upset--especially considering he was dead and his worries were over.

"The All-Father has turned his back on us!" the man yelled with the vocal power and clear diction of a priest. "We cannot live! We cannot die! We are forsaken! Abandoned!"

"I have to admit," Jacob said confidentially to Paliun, "this isn't anything at all like what I expected. Death, I mean."

"We're not dead," Paliun said.

"What?" Jacob asked.

"I said, we're not dead. The dream came to pass. The Turning came to pass. The passage between the living and once-living is no more."

"You mean ... you mean ... " Jacob stammered, trying to wrap his mind around this information.

"I mean we cannot die."

Other worlds await us, my Love.

He misunderstood--it was that simple. He'd taken the wrong meaning from Maya's words. This new meaning he'd just gleaned ... it was wrong. That's all. Just wrong.

Jacob turned onto his belly and became the Wolf.

Once more, he ran. He didn't know where he was, but he ran until he found a familiar scent, and then he followed the trails that he knew would lead him home--home to Maya, and Desdi, who would be there, waiting for him. And the tragedy of the Turning would be awful and terrible, but Maya and Desdi would be home when he got there and the three of them would find a way to deal with this tragedy. Together. As a family.

Jacob ran for hours. Whenever he stopped to think about what he might find at his cottage, his fatigue faded a fraction of a fraction and he ran faster. He ran until he thought his heart might burst in his ears and blood would run down either side of his head, but never once did he consider slowing. His miracles were at the far end of this run. He needed to feel Maya's arms around him. He needed to hear Desdi's squeals as he shouted, Monster! He needed the All-Father to love him just a little bit more, and not bring to pass the end of his entire world.

Jacob ran.

At long last he reached his cottage. All the familiar scents were there. The soaps. The spices. The scented oils. The apple wood. All there, all intact.

The change back to Man began while he was still running. His legs were suddenly too long, his arms too short, and he barrelled through his front door, smashing the sturdy wood from the frame and landing on the floor of the cottage, the broken door beneath him.

For long moments, he didn't move. He laid on the door, panting as a man. His eyes found their fireplace, orange embers glowing where a cozy fire always burned during winter. Between Jacob's place on the floor and the fireplace lay an unmoving heap under a blanket, its form outlined by the dim light. Its shape was like Maya's--it was exactly the shape she made when she curled in front of the fire with Desdi snuggled in front of her. It was just like that--except that there was no rhythmic movement in this shape. It just lie there, absolutely still.

Jacob tried to stand but he lacked the strength. Instead, he dragged himself across the floor towards that familiar shape, still hoping that only a trick of light or coincidence made it so familiar. When he was close enough, he grasped what would have been Maya's arm if the bundle weren't some cruel illusion, hoping beyond hope for the pile of blankets to crush under his hand.

They didn't.

Jacob drew the covering away from his wife's face. The wet blood was already beginning to cool. Desdi was snuggled before her, as unmoving as her mother, her dead eyes staring into a dying fire. Both of their throats were slit. As he pulled the blanket down their bodies, he saw that Maya held a dagger in one hand, and a wrinkled sheet of parchment in the other. He gently took it from her, and read it in the fading light.

To whomever finds us:

If your eyes fall upon these words, know that Cambruin is dead.

Know that the All-Father has turned from us. The doorway between the living and the once-living is closed. I pity you who are trapped here. I will stand before the All-Father, and try to convince him to once more cast his light on this world.

Know that Jacob died trying to prevent this.

Know that I love Jacob beyond understanding, and that I could not stay in this world knowing I would forever be unable to reach him on the other side. Nor could I leave Desdi here without us.

Know that we are still a family in whatever worlds await.

Maya
Wife of Jacob
Mother of Desdi
Blessed by Love

Jacob stood on unsteady legs, his hands finding an oil lantern. Without hesitation, he shattered the lantern against the back of the fireplace. The oil ignited, and the fire trailed across the floor to the wall.

He laid himself on the floor behind Maya and Desdi, cradling them both. From Maya's fingers he pried the dagger, the edge of which he dragged across his own throat.

Jacob tightly held Maya and Desdi close to him, and bled to death.

The night lies dead, the stars shine black
The dagger-fed forbidden pact
A daughter parts before world's end
A husband's heart shall never mend

From The Song of Jacob

"Jacob?"

The werewolf woke on his side in the snow. His wife and daughter were not in his arms. The dagger was not in his hand. The cleric was still yelling--his voice now hoarse--about the All-Father and the Turning. A few others laughed loudly, exhilarated at the prospect of immortality.

"Paliun," Jacob said without moving.

"Jacob, where'd you go?" he asked. "I tried to keep up with you ... what happened to you? Did you die again?"

"They're gone, Paliun," he said. "Maya and Desdi. They escaped the Turning. They crossed-over just before, to escape it. They're gone. They're gone from me forever."

Paliun needed a few moments to absorb the impact of this. "Great and Merciful All-Father," he said solemnly. "Jacob, I'm sorry ... "

"Not merciful," Jacob said. "Not merciful." He got to his feet, not bothering to dust the snow from himself. "I'm going to find them. Somewhere, there's a way to the next world. I'm going to find that way ... I'm going to find it. I won't stay here without them."

Paliun said nothing.

"The All-Father has abandoned us! Trapped us here!" the cleric screamed with what little remained of his voice. "Our world has ended! Our world has ended!"

Jacob became the Wolf, and padded into the woods.

Release denied, life holds us fast
The Revered Pass
Became a lie.

And now we search for loved ones gone
Life marches on,
We cannot die.

Life marches on,
We cannot die.

 

end

revised 2/28/01