Voice of Stars
In the beginning, the world was cold, empty of life and bereft of the creatures that now roam across it. As the Sun guided her charge around the barren rock, she could finally bear the silence no longer, and came to a decision. Her heart burdened by the solitude, she galloped across the stars, finally coming to her sister, Moon.
“Sister mine, I cannot abide this empty land anymore. We must share ourselves with the world, and not be alone again.”
The Moon initially objected, more fond of the cold than the Sun. But she saw her sister’s burning need for companionship; and so they began the Song, the first in existence-- the Song of Life. More than mere noise, their very essence flowed out across the world, terrible storms lashing its surface as impossible energies soaked into every surface. And slowly the cold, dead rock began to change. Just tiny patches at first, but then in whole swathes as greenery pushed upward from the bare soil, trees racing each other for the sky.
As their power continued to saturate the land, Sun and Moon allowed sparks of themselves to settle into the now fertile world. Strange creatures began to form and crawl from the water and mud and stone, a riot of wing, claw and pelt, until the world resonated with life. Across fields galloped vast herds of four-legged, hoofed grazers, while the forests swarmed with small, darting forms. The sky was filled with the tumult of a million wings, the oceans carved by ten thousand fins.
Finally the Sun and Moon broke free of the Song, looked with wonder upon their now populous world, and felt pride at their great accomplishment. For an age they watched as their creations grew and spread across the world, and to their surprise the Song they had started continued, the life they had wrought taking paths they had not foreseen.
But, as they would learn, life’s unpredictability is both great and terrible. One day, a great wailing of anger and despair drew the Sun to a forest clearing, where a host of creatures were gathered. One of their number had been slain by another, and they quarrelled over what punishment to mete out.
“What is this noise, that disturbs the peace of our world?” Sun asked, her eyes concerned as she took in the ruined body of the fallen, brown coat spattered red with blood, and the defiant eyes of the one who had slain it. She looked up as the leader of the assembly, greatest among the four-legged grazers, strode forward.
“Noble Sun,” Tarpan replied, his head bowed respectfully, though his eyes were hard. “This beast has been hunting our herds for many days now, striking down our own to feed on their flesh. Today he has struck down my own sworn brother, and even now consumes his remains. My herd, and all grazers under your light, seek justice for his behavior.”
Sun looked upon the one accused and spread her wings. “Tell me your name, slayer of others, and is there any defense you would offer for this heinous act?”
The creature met her gaze defiantly. “I am called Sirius, noble Sun, and I would not offer explanations for filling my belly,” he said, with a gesture to the sky above. “I am not a plant to feed from the day, nor a grazer to feed on the plants.” He glared at Tarpan and his cohort. “I hunted this one in fairness and he failed to escape my claws. Would you seek to punish me for my nature?”
His reply left the Sun silent, taken aback at the insight in his statement. She could punish him for taking the life of another, but she could not find it in her to punish him for his nature. “I shall confer with my sister Moon, and return at sunrise. If you are speaking truth, you shall meet us there. If not. . . then nowhere will save you from our wrath.” She turned to the others. “Until such time as we pass judgement, there shall be no action taken against this one.”
One by one, the other creatures swore their oaths and departed. Finally, Tarpan was the last that remained, and gave Sirius a baleful glare. “I am not satisfied, and will spread the word to my brothers and sisters,” he said, with a stamp of his hoof. “If our paths cross again, we shall fight together and slay you in turn. But we shall not feed on you, and instead leave you to return to the grass you reject.” Wheeling about, he too left the clearing.
The Sun nodded, satisfied, and turned back to Sirius. “And I have your oath that you shall be here at the next dawn?”
Sirius nodded. “You do. But I will not stand by if you attempt to strike me down. My fangs may not be long, but they can scar even the Sun.”
Sun smiled at his bravado, though she knew such a contest would be brutally short. “Then I shall meet you at the first ray of morning.” And with that, she spread her wings and flew back into the sky, until she stood at last before her sister.
“So, sister mine, I see you seek counsel on the matter you involve yourself in,” Moon said plainly.
“Yes, sister.” Sun glanced back to the world under her hooves. “This loss of life is regrettable, but this one called Sirius tells the truth. If we begin to punish creatures for their natures, then the world may as well be lifeless once more. However, as allowing him to continue would bring ruin to others, then something must be done.”
Moon tilted her head. “So then what brought you to ask my aid? It seems you’ve already reached your decision.”
Sun laughed lightly. “I suppose I did.”
On the world far below, Sirius watched the last light of Sun depart and turned back to his kill. The four-hooves had run far, and nearly reached its fellows before his claws had struck home and brought it down. He remembered its pleas for escape, and growled dismissively as he gripped the body with his jaws. He would meet the Sun at dawn, because if nothing else he’d pledged himself to it, and would not back down out of cowardice.
He dragged the carcass back to his den, and finished his meal, down to ragged bones. No matter what Tarpan accused him of, he would not be known to waste even the marrow. The remains he pushed to the side, where older bones sat, picked clean by those scavengers who dared his wrath. He settled down on the broad stone at the den’s mouth, and stared at the sky as the moon rose over the horizon. He felt the return of the feeling that had plagued him since he could remember, and lifted his head. Taking a deep breath, he howled, the sound twisting and mournful as it carved its way into the sky.
Far overhead, Moon twitched an ear as she heard the song, and smiled as an idea began to grow in her mind. “A song of solitude, then? Perhaps there is something that can be done with him after all. . .”
**********
Sirius opened his eyes, the barest trace of the sky warming as the sun crested the horizon. Shaking himself, he rose to his paws and began the journey to the clearing. As he trod the path, his nose picked out the other denizens of the forest following him, their eagerness to see him punished hot on their scents. He decided to ignore them and continued on, his eyes narrowed as he entered the clearing.
“So, you have returned,” Sun said calmly, her eyes neutral as she stared at him. Beside her, Moon seemed almost bored, as if she had better things to do.
Sirius bared his teeth slightly. “You say it as if you expected me not to.”
“I will confess the idea had crossed my mind more than once.” Sun glanced up, to the gathering of the other creatures just inside the treeline. “I have reached my decision. I shall not punish a creature solely for acting out of its nature.” Her eyes turned back to Sirius. “However, it cannot be denied that your actions threaten those who are your brethren. Thus, I will ask only that you leave these lands, never to-”
“Hold, my sister.” Moon’s voice was silken steel as she rose to her hooves. “While your actions are compassionate, your words about not punishing one for their nature ring hollow to mine ear.”
“What would you have me do then, sister?” Sun asked, a slight edge of annoyance in her tone.
Moon turned her eyes back to Sirius. “I have opened my eyes to the future. Sirius is only the beginning. Soon there will be many who feed on the flesh of others. However, these beings, these. . . ‘predators’, lack a guiding force to keep them from devouring the world.”
Sun’s eyes widened as she realized her sister’s intent. “Surely you don’t mean-”
“I do, sister.” Moon looked levelly at Sirius. “Sirius, I would present an alternative to my sister’s sentence of banishment. Should you accept, you will be as us, a force of the Wild itself, that which burns in the hearts of all life. It shall be your task to ensure that the predators that come after you grow and prosper in balance with the world. Do you accept?”
Sirius stared, unsure if Moon was playing a jest on him, as she was wont to do with the living. Her scent only indicated her resolve, and so he finally chose. “I accept.”
“Very well, then brace yourself. This shall not be painless.” Her horn began to glow, and Sirius’ vision went black. He could feel the energy flow into him, suffusing every muscle and bone until he positively swam with it.
Then it sank deeper and he felt it grip hold of something that he’d never even realized was there. With a start, he suddenly knew that this was his essence, and that was what the power sought.
“Wait...” he started to plead, suddenly afraid.
But there was no stopping the tidal wave of energy, and it wrapped around his core before it exploded. Burning agony seared along his entire being, and he felt the bliss of darkness sweep in to claim him. But something held it back, and he continued to writhe as the fire consumed him.
After an eternity, it finally abated and he forced his trembling eyes to open. His vision swam red, and he tasted blood in his mouth. But abruptly, the feeling vanished, along with the aching pain, and he sat up.
“Welcome back, Sirius.” Moon’s voice was the same as ever, but her scent radiated a sort of. . . pride? “How do you feel?”
Sirius pushed himself to his paws, wondering what had happened to the grass, and looked down. A frightened yelp escaped him as he realized he was floating in a dark void, a massive curvature of green, brown and blue laid out in front of him. “We’re. . . I’m. . .”
“Above the world, yes.” Moon laughed as she trod forward to stand next to him. “I suppose it does take some getting used to at first.”
Sirius barely even heard her, staring in fascination at the expanse before him. “So, I really am a. . .?”
Moon nodded. “Yes. Your power is similar to mine and my sister’s, but as I told you, your purview shall be the Wild.” Her eyes were stern as she turned to look at the world below. “This makes all the Wild your responsibility, from predators to prey. You will shepherd their growth so that this world remains in balance, and temper the desire to hunt with the desire to escape, lest that balance be broken and all life perish. I trust you acknowledge this task, and will act in accordance with that?”
Sirius continued to stare, remembering the feeling from when he had gazed at the stars. Making a choice, he abruptly began to fall, the sky burning around him as he plummeted toward the forest below. Moon followed after him curiously, smiling as he flailed awkwardly on the landing, blasting a chunk of the forest to ruin.
“Do not fear, it took my sister ages to master the art of landing,” Moon said with a small laugh as she alighted on a broken tree. “So, what brings you back to this place?”
Sirius pointed back to the sky. “I have long cursed the stars, for even they have companions. That ends now.” He settled onto his haunches, and closed his eyes, reaching for the power inside him. Feeling it surge to the forefront of his mind, he took a breath and howled, the same howl he had sung to the stars. Only this time he wove in a call of summons, to banish the loneliness that had plagued him so.
Moon watched, a bemused smile on her face as she watched the godling attempt to weave his first act. It was rough, certainly, but it had a certain appeal to it as well. Frowning as she felt it waver in purpose, she carefully wove a touch of her own power in, guiding it to completion.
Flickers of green ghostlight took hold of the ruined trees, the branches shuddering as new energy suffused them. Slowly, they crawled toward each other, binding together until at last there stood ten beings, green eyes glowing as they looked about in surprise.
“An interesting casting, young Sirius,” Moon said, stifling a laugh as one tripped over its own paws. “And just what are we to call these?”
Sirius rose, his bones shifting unconsiously as he stood on his hind paws. For a second he stood there, on an equal level to Moon, before he realized what had happened and yelped. “What in the world?” In a panic he dropped to all fours, bones cracking again as he once more resembled his old self. He expected to be shocked at the rapid alterations to his body, but it just felt... natural, like it was merely an extension of his will now. He contemplated remaining in his original form, but something about being able to stand and meet Moon’s gaze equally appealed to him.
He focused his thoughts and once again rose, this time much slower. His forelegs twisted and elongated into arms like those of the tree-climbers, his claws doing the same until they had multiple digits. He reached down, testing his new paws by placing one on the head of the largest wolf and scratching behind its ‘ear’ idly. “I do not know, actually.” He seemed almost embarrassed by the admittance.
Moon laughed loudly, earning her a chorus of growls and a baleful glare from Sirius. “Well, in any case, they are here now, and they are yours. Tend to them well, Sirius.”
Sirius’ only reply was to lift his head, the ten newborns following his example, and a new, united song rose into the nighttime sky. This time, the predators were not alone.
**********
Sirius yawned mightily as he stood at the entrance to his cave, the silver light of the moon glimmering off his fur. It had been a decade since he first raised his children, and the life of this world was now even more complex than when he had taken on his mantle. Within each of them he had instilled some of his essence, and so guided them onto the true path of the Wild, as charged to him by Moon when she had made him what he was.
However, he was beginning to feel that same restlessness again, the same as on that night before his ascension. He had his pack now, and still led their hunts with skill. But that niggling feeling of solitude was again creeping into his heart, and he loathed a return to such a state.
He finally made up his mind, and lifted his head to the evening sky. He reached out with his power, teasing a thread of it into his howl. “Lady Moon, I ask your presence.”
He only waited a moment before he felt her appear. He grinned toothily at her new form. “So, how is the new body treating you, Moon?”
She scowled. “You know I have taken a new name, as has my sister.”
“Oh, I know. But it amuses me all the same.” Sirius stretched idly.
She snorted, and the barest trace of a smile played about her face. “Speak then, why have you summoned me here?”
Now it was Sirius’ turn to scowl. “You remember the night I first raised my children, yes?”
“The timberwolves? What of them?” Luna asked curiously.
“You know I dislike the ‘ponies’ word for them,” he replied with a snap of his teeth. “It’s degrading and an insult to their nature.”
She tossed her head. “In any case, what causes this mood in you?”
He scowled again, kicking at the dirt irritably. “It’s coming back. The same feeling that caused me to raise them in the first place.” He looked mournfully at Luna. “I cannot abide a return to loneliness, Luna.”
She furrowed her brow in concern. As much as she pretended to be annoyed by Sirius’ behavior, she’d bound herself to his fate when she aided him in the creation of his first children. Now, it seemed, she would be called on again to do so. “And you desire the knowledge of how to do so?”
He looked over at her. “I watched, you know. I saw as you and your sister underwent your transformation to the forms you hold now. I saw as you raised the ponies from the four hooves that came before. I was dismissive of them at first, but even I must acknowledge their potential now. I seek something to call my own, children who can truly grow and develop on their own.”
Luna sighed. “I am sorry Sirius, but the secret behind life such as the ponies my sister and I raised is one that must be learned, not shown.”
Sirius growled. “You just seek to hold it for yourselves, is that it?”
Luna’s eyes darkened. “I would take care to mind your tongue, Sirius. Truly, if I knew of how to tell you, I would.”
“So then what did you do?” Sirius asked, a trace of desperation in his voice.
“We found the essence that made them what they are, and shaped it. You will have to do the same,” Luna said softly as she vanished.
Sirius growled in anger and slammed a paw to the ground, shattering the stone plateau. In a shower of debris, the deity was left standing in a field of rubble and broken rocks. He could hear the querying howls of his pack as they rushed to his side, confusion and fear rampant in their scents.
But his attention was drawn by a single, tiny white gemstone twinkling under the moonlight. Wordlessly, he knelt and picked it up, eyes distant as he recalled Luna’s words.
He abruptly turned and began to scale the hill to his den, growling for the pack to follow him. He reached the entrance and bounded inside, a new idea beginning to take root in his mind. If Luna and Celestia could forge the four-hooves into the ponies, then he too would forge children in his own image. And he could not think of a better predator to raise them from than his first children. Drawing power to his claws, he dug them into the rock, effortlessly parting it like mud as he began to tunnel downward.
The timberwolves whined nervously to each other before they followed their alpha into the darkness.
Sirius dug like he was possessed, his entire being focused on driving downward, through dirt and rock and even water, as he sought his prize. He understood now, what Luna had meant, and would not be deterred.
Finally, his claws broke into open air, and he forced the tunnel wider, emerging into a vast, nearly black space. As his eyes adjusted, he could see there was dim light, reddish in hue, coming from fissures in the cavern floor. Every so often, steam hissed weakly from one of the cracks, along with a fresh surge of superheated air.
The pack lingered in the tunnel, their fear-scent intensifying as they recoiled from the intense heat. Sirius growled at them to silence their whimpering, then turned to the closest fissure.
“Find what defines them, and mold it. . .” he muttered to himself as he drew power into his forepaws. With a deep breath, he plunged them into the fissure and forced it wider, eyes wide despite the heat and gas that tried to blind him. He could see the red-orange fire, the lifeblood of the world, and reached down, scooping a pawful up. He grinned as it hissed against the power saturating his paw, but his fur remained unharmed.
He turned his head and growled for the pack to come closer, and after a moment of hesitation they obeyed. As the first one drew close enough, he reached out and placed his other paw comfortingly on the side of its head. He lifted the paw holding the magma and focused, channeling both energy and a tiny spark of himself into it, imbuing it with drive and purpose. Teeth bared, he abruptly turned and thrust his paw against its head.
A brilliant light filled the cavern, bright enough even to cause Sirius to close his eyes. The timberwolves yelped in alarm and retreated, tails tucked firmly between their legs as they fled the surge of energy.
Sirius didn’t even notice as he felt his entire perception narrow down to just himself and his child as his power poured into its form. The magma flashed white hot and began to flow over the wood, expanding and growing as it went. He could tell when it made the change to flesh; the wood charring at first, then compressing into dense bone. And finally, he felt the yawning void that was its forming mind, filled with the instincts of the timberwolf, but lacking the purpose he had seen Celestia and Luna’s ponies imbued with.
He wrestled with himself for what felt like an age on exactly what purpose to give it, until finally, an idea struck him. “You will be a shepherd of the deep wilds, as I am,” he said firmly. “It shall be your task to guide the predators of the land and prevent them from taking more than is needed. For yourselves, I give you the gifts of stone, that you may tunnel unseen and carry out your task. As you reach adulthood, you shall feed on what the stone provides, so that you do not take from the prey of your charges. This I do charge you with, my child, and all your descendants.” He concentrated, feeling his command imprinting into the very core of the forming newborn.
Finally, the light abated, and Sirius opened his eyes. There, quivering on the stone before him, was a new creature, similar to his appearance now, though shorter and stockier. Its scent was clearly male, and curiously a mix of living animal, with underlying traces of stone. With a whimpering gasp he drew air into his lungs and awkwardly rose to his paws, stumbling as he lost his balance.
Sirius instantly supported the newborn, holding him up until he was sure that he wouldn’t fall. “Be at ease, you are with your pack.”
The newborn jerked back, panic surging hot through his scent as he realized the body he found himself in. “. . .” he croaked incoherently.
Sirius frowned, and placed his paw on the newborn’s head again. “Be calm.” He let another trickle of power flow into the newborn, imparting his knowledge of language with it. “Can you understand me?”
The newborn worked his jaws momentarily, then looked up at Sirius with reverence in his eyes. “Yes. . .” He blinked, surprised at the words coming out of his mouth, and a hesitant smile crossed his muzzle. “Yes! Yes!” His tail wagged excitedly, but a sudden frown marred his face. “A. . .Alpha? Is that word? What. . .What am I?”
Sirius paused, feeling a sudden weight on his mind as he realized that whatever choice he made, it would be a part of his new children forever. Now, he really understood what Luna had meant when she said to find what defined them. He remembered the gemstone that had brought him here, and in sudden inspiration looked up. “You are a diamond dog. Now, bring the rest of the pack. You all shall be the first of my children, and I shall guide you until the very end of the hunt.”
**********
As Sirius made his way out of the tunnel, he glanced up at the moon and realized that it had taken longer than he’d thought. By its position it had clearly set, and risen again, no, more than that. He concluded it had to have been at least three full days down in the dark and the heat. But the time had been well spent. Behind him, ten diamond dogs gathered, sniffing curiously at the familiar new world that spread out before them.
“Alpha?” The firstborn of the pack asked cautiously. “What we do now?”
Sirius bared his fangs in a grin. “Your wilds await. Let it know who its alpha is.” He took a deep breath and lifted his head to the night sky. The diamond dogs followed suit, and as one the pack howled, the sound telling all who heard it that a new age was coming.