by Laura Taylor
In the expansive library in the Council’s Italian villa, Caleb sat hunched over a thick text. The book was ancient, the pages discoloured with time, and yet even this volume wasn’t the original copy of the book. That one had long since crumbled to dust, painstaking efforts being made to replicate the volumes every few hundred years, with a team of scholars permanently assigned to the delicate task of copying out each book by hand.
Now, of course, with the advent of modern technology, efforts were being made to preserve the information in digital form, as well as physical copies. In one of the offices that the historians used, each page of each book was being scanned, catalogued, digitally enhanced and archived for future reference.
Since arriving in Italy and beginning his training as a historian, Caleb’s education into the old language had been progressing well. He was fascinated by the structures of the language, as well as the information that the old texts contained, and he was more grateful than ever for the opportunity to come here and be trained for service to the Council. It was the chance to make a real difference in preserving and understanding the history of their species, not to mention the sheer pleasure of studying the language.
And today, he was re-examining the prophecy of Fenrae-Ul and the destruction of the shifters. After Dee’s visit, the Council had spoken of little else, and he’d heard a dozen different theories from the historians about what the words in the old language might actually mean. Translating them was hard work, with nuances in the language that were at odds with modern language structures, and some words remained unknown, their meaning being gleaned from their use in only half a dozen contexts in as many different books.
Earlier in the year, Caleb had been in Scotland, where he had met Nikolai, the alpha of the Ukrainian Den, who had helped him re-examine another prophecy – that of Negur Ulis, the Black Wolf, and through that conversation, it had become apparent that some of the ancient prophecies had been mistranslated over the years, as the various modern languages used by the shifters had evolved.
And so Caleb had taken it upon himself to have another look at Fenrae’s prophecy, hoping to see if he could make any sense of it before his tutors caused him to form biases that would forever colour his understanding of the passage. He took out a copy he had made of the prophecy in English, the most recent translation having been done around the year 1550. And then he placed a notebook beside the English copy, ready to make his own notes as he worked to translate the original text.
Hours later, Caleb finally sat back, exhausted, but pleased at having completed his work. He reread the old translation of the prophecy, knowing he’d found several errors in the language.
‘Thus be the truth of the wolfe Fenrae-Ul. The daughter twice removed from Faeydir-Ul. The cause of the death of her mother’s unhappy tale. By magicks deep and ancient, she shalle return henceforth to life anew. Ye shalle know her by the separation of wolf from man. And under her reign, the shyfters shalle be restor’d to the natural order. No more divided, but united as one being. And peace shalle reign as the old discord is laid to rest.’
He flipped over to his new translation, the pages of his notebook full of scribble and random notes as he’d gone in circles at times, looking for a proper definition of some of the words. He read it through now, pleased to discover that the first half of the prophecy had been translated fairly well. Right up to ‘the separation of wolf from man’. But after that… Caleb frowned as his notes took a decidedly different turn.
‘And under the duration of her reign,’ he had written, ‘the shifters shall be reunited. No more divided, but aligned in purpose. They shall be one collective, one pack. And peace shall reign as the ancient conflict is laid to rest.’
He sat back in his chair and rubbed his face. His tutors were not going to be happy with this. According to his own translation, the prophecy didn’t state that the shifters were going to be returned to one being, one form, but rather that they were going to be reunited as one pack. As things stood, they were divided now, the Grey Watch constantly at odds with Il Trosa. It wasn’t certain, but it was possible that the prophecy spoke of a reunion between the two factions, an end to the six hundred year old split in their ranks.
But the far more interesting part was the final line. The original translation had spoken of the ‘old discord’. It wasn’t inaccurate, though Caleb had translated it as ‘ancient conflict’. No great difference in meaning there. But he’d also listed half a dozen words that the old language phrase could also mean. The word for ‘ancient’ didn’t necessarily mean something that had happened a long time ago. It could also refer to something that was ongoing, beginning in ages past, but continuing to this day. And there were plenty of options for ‘conflict’. Argument. War. Disagreement. Discord.
Beneath his gaze, two words seemed to line up on the page, and Caleb felt his heart lurch as he stared at the completely unintentional translation that had just appeared in front of him. Was he imagining things, or had he just stumbled upon one of the greatest secrets in the history of their species?
‘Ancient’ could also be translated as ‘endless’, and ‘conflict’ could just as well read ‘war’.
And peace shall reign as the Endless War is laid to rest…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laura Taylor has been writing since she was a teenager, spending long hours lost in imaginary adventures as new worlds and characters spring to life. The House of Sirius is her first published work, a series of seven novels following the wolf shape shifters and their war with the Noturatii.
Laura lives on the Central Coast of NSW, Australia and has a passion for nature, animals, hiking, and of course, reading.
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