Original Link (now dead) - http://zone.msn.com/asheronscall/ASHEZakhran.asp
The Path of the Wolf
I am Zakhran al-Zubar. I am Sand Wolf. I am Shaman.
I was born in the realm of Ispar, to an unwed serving girl named Kariya, in the servants' quarters of the Palace of Nesbaat. My status as a bastard child guaranteed me a life of servitude to the Malik and the rest of the aristocracy. From an early age, I was taught to be humble and obedient, to remain unseen until a servant was called for. As I grew older, I began to wonder about who my father was and why he did not wed my mother or acknowledge me as a son of his house.
Many times did I ask my mother to tell me about my father, but she would say only that he was a great and powerful man but unable to raise me as his son. For years, I dreamed that he must be some wandering adventurer, scouring the lands for evil to eradicate. Perhaps he was a great sorcerer, his time consumed by research and quests for arcane enlightenment. Dreams such as these were my inspiration, for they represented an alternative to life as a servant; one day I might follow in his footsteps, one day I too might travel in search of adventure.
When I reached the age of a dozen summers, my mother finally revealed the truth to me. My father, she told me, was not some wandering warrior or mage, but the second son of the Malik himself, Prince Khalid ibn Nesbara! Furthermore, she explained, his sole reason for not marrying her was that he had three wives already, and they would not permit him to marry a woman from the servant caste. My image of my father as a courageous hero was shattered. Here was a man who had not the courage to take responsibility for his own son!
This revelation proved too much to bear. I was old enough to understand the situation, but not yet wise enough to know how to respond to it. Each time I thought of the haughty contempt Prince Khalid treated me with, my rage and unrest grew stronger. That night, with only a few strips of dried meat and one skin of water, I ran off into the desert, never to return.
I don't know how far or for how long I ran, but it was long after the lights of Nesbaat had faded from view. I stopped only a handful of times, to sip some water and catch my breath. The desert night was cold; to stay warm was to stay moving. Only when the sun began to rise above the horizon did I truly stop to address my predicament. I was in the middle of the desert with little food and even less water. Soon the heat of the day would be upon me, and the vultures were already circling overhead with anticipation. As the sun soared higher and the day grew warmer, I continued to wander among the dunes. I ate the last of my food and finished off the waterskin, the insult of my heritage and the hopelessness of my plight sending me into a state of utter despair. My fate seemed sealed; my bones would be picked clean by scavengers and swallowed by the shifting sands.
What happened next may very well have saved my life, though it easily brought me within an inch of it. Without warning, the sky grew dark and the clouds erupted with thunder and heavy rain. The sudden drenching was a welcome change from the searing heat, but my momentary relief was shattered as the sky flickered with electricity and the force of a charging auroch bull knocked me off my feet. Lightning had struck me squarely in the chest, and I would later learn that my dark brown hair had become completely white. I heard no thunderclap, only a voice, calling out my name.
"Zakhran, my child, you must learn to control your emotions in order to walk the Path of the Wolf."
I stood up and glanced around, but saw no one. "Show yourself, trickster!" I cried. "By all rights I should be alone, yet your faceless voice calls me by name!" I took a second look at my surroundings and realized something was amiss. It was no longer raining, nor was it daytime. The night sky was an odd hue of purple, and the stars shone with a strange orange light. There was no moon, even though it had been nearly full during my journey the night before. The desert sands were the color of dark red wine, and the air was neither hot nor cold. "Who are you? Where am I? Am I dreaming?" I asked, this time with less certainty.
"Some have called this place the Dreamtime. It is the realm of the spirits, and I am the Spirit of the Great Wolf. There are many realms, my child, as you will learn as you follow the Path of the Wolf."
I saw the strange-looking stars begin to shift in the sky, converging into the form of a wolf's head. "But what is this 'Path of the Wolf' you refer to, Great Spirit?" I asked, both fear and curiosity evident in my voice.
"The Wolf shall be your totem, your spirit guide. Let the way of the Wolf direct your deeds, and you will become a powerful shaman. The Wolf is fierce, loyal, and just. If you strive to follow the Path of the Wolf, you will achieve your destiny."
"My destiny? What do you mean by this?" I asked.
"Your destiny awaits you in a faraway realm, where your lineage and social status have no bearing. If you adhere to the Path of the Wolf, you will become a mighty warrior, a powerful magician, and a noble leader. It is your destiny to one day form a tribe which will be known across the land. You shall lead this great nation in an epic battle against a terrible evil. But you have much to learn before that day arrives. It is time to begin your journey along the Path of the Wolf. Remember that the Great Wolf Spirit walks alongside you. Learn to trust it to guide you when the way is not clear."
With that, the image in the sky began to swirl and move closer, spiraling towards me until it became a shimmering portal to another realm. Where did it lead? Why was I chosen for this task? What was this terrible evil I would face? And would I be victorious? I still had many questions, but somehow I knew that I would have to find the answers for myself. With the Great Wolf Spirit as my guide, I stepped into this unfamiliar land and began a journey towards my destiny.
--Zakhran al-Zubar
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