- The cold of winter perturbed Sereem. His breath frosted the air as he spoke, whiffling out into ghostly trails of steam. Even dressed as he was, head to toe in furs, he could still feel the chill seeping into his skin. Home would never be like this. It was dreadfully difficult to find acceptable offerings for the spirits like this. No fresh fruit, no fresh vegetables. What could survive the cold? But Sereem persevered never-the-less. One had a duty to the spirits, after all, and in winter, even more so.
He resisted the urge to tighten his cloak around himself, unwilling to appear weak in front of potential acolytes. Sereem had gathered a small group around himself, eager eared and listening. He kept his sermon light to keep their attention. No one, not even the devout such as he, wanted to be out in this miserable cold with nothing but fear of wolves to keep their feet from straying.
It had been easier to find followers since the wolves made themselves known in Sunderland; picking off people at the outskirts of villages. Made them want to believe in something. And why believe in anything at all if it wasn’t going to be the right thing?
“We must remember that the spirits are not wholly benevolent beings, and the return of the wolves is very likely driven by them,” Sereem stroked his small beard, nodding to the little gathering,” The wolves are merely a by-product of their displeasure with our recent behavior.” Our, of course, meaning them. While the old ways were practiced somewhat differently in his homeland, more fastidious with offerings and prayer, the utter lack of believers in Sunderland was a truly disappointing.
“Offerings will help protect you. Even if you don’t believe in the old ways,“ he resisted the urge to snort in derision,” It takes no time to prepare a bowl of honey or some pressed flowers to leave out for the spirits.”
Wolves would likely become hungry, ravenous, with the winter cold and prey scarce and lean. He suspected they might start to move further into Sunderland’s heart. But no need to mention this. Sereem didn’t want to spread panic, only caution.
“And wolves themselves are flawed, mortal beings. You do not need to be a warden to protect yourself from them. Wolves fear fire and steel, just as all animals do.” Sereem let his hand fall to the hilt of his Shamshir, tied to his waist.
Nyx Argyros
