Dante ≠ Loner

Dante is nothing short of a highly confident, capable young man with an affinity for thrills and living life on the edge. Polished and proud, he is the embodiment of a socialite, evident through his friendly disposition and the approachable air about him. A dichotomy lives within him, where a worldly, emotional gentleman touched with finesse finds quaint joy in tradition, can become a mischievous, performative, zealous jester when coaxed by the right company. Like iron drawn to a magnet, he is drawn to people of all types; to bustling environments where he can match the energy, his actions bold and festive. A celebratory individual who can find a reason to raise a glass in nearly any situation, even if it is less than ideal. He never lost touch with his puppyish heart, his love for jokes and banter perpetuated by a lighthearted sense of humor. Demonstrative with his emotions, he can be open and vulnerable but not so susceptible to breaking with a few unkind conversations or situations. Dante wears his heart on his sleeve and strives to connect that heart with everyone. He loves to pay attention to and please people and his happiness stems from his ability to share it with others.

Dante is an inquisitive individual. He relishes learning new things, his mind as flexible as it is puckish. While it may take some repetition or time for information to fully absorb, once it has he is quick to apply it anywhere possible. His weak comprehension skills never parch his thirst for knowledge or shy him away from asking questions and entertaining silly ideas. He takes a logic-based approach to solving problems, relying on facts and experience to lighten his path through the dark. He deeply values knowledge but pragmatism should never disprove his beliefs in more abstract concepts. His knack for a strong voice in the crowd has given him a mind as sharp as his tongue and the courage to rival a tycoon. An unflinching spirit anchors this grit. He’s not someone who tolerates cruelty as he believes in a peaceable, fair world where all may express themselves candidly. Though nonjudgmental, he is critical of authority figures but isn’t as insubordinate as his mischief may suggest. Diplomacy is his default but at times action must be taken for a consensus to be reached. With great power comes great responsibility and sometimes takes it upon himself to cast judgment and expose corruption.

Raised in a political sphere, he is no stranger to the ever-evolving mechanisms that constitute wolf society. He prefers to champion the underdog rather than the majority even if that means standing up against the status quo. His beliefs are his guiding force, not easily abandoned under duress as some convictions are, in his eyes, righteous and irreproachable. His resolve may make him out to be moralistic but his intentions never stem from a place of ill will. His conscience is strong and it wants only to do what it feels is right. As a result, he aims to convey his deepest beliefs in a way that is intended to invigorate those around him. Dante is content to follow but is capable of leadership when it can benefit others; accommodating but unwilling to compromise if those he cares about are at the expense. He doesn’t desire power but wishes to inspire others and protect those unable to protect themselves, which might mean taking the road less traveled. His patience knows no bounds and he yearns to stoke a similar flame in younger individuals. When he speaks confidently he listens humbly, ready to acknowledge other perspectives, which makes him an excellent conversationalist.

Once a wolf slated for inheritance and glory, he had to learn to acquit himself to the likes of a respectable heir. In his younger days, he was forced to prioritize work before all else, rarely having time for leisure. He feels as though he missed out on many childhood activities which has given rise to pushback in response to the duties that befall him as a young adult. Self-discipline is a trait that seldom surfaces in Dante. He may postpone duties in favor of relaxing a few moments longer or dreading them. He ultimately believes in an honest day’s work but that will never stop him from incorporating a bit of fun when possible. Despite his tendency to shirk his responsibilities, somehow, someway, he can be counted on to pull his weight. In his spare time, he is an appreciator of beauty who seeks visual value in his surroundings. His eye can find beauty where it may not exist and vows to protect it. He holds himself to strict standards by maintaining a pristine, presentable image worthy of praise, enough to a degree where others may consider him vain. His showmanship is nothing to scoff at. Dante delights in flaunting who he is.

Dante takes deep pride in his druidic, mystic roots. He fosters an immense reverence for the natural world, fascinated by its self-sufficient and free-flowing nature. He knows how fragile and unstable it can be — what goes up must come down. Balance must be maintained for progress to be made. Driven by a passion to protect nature, he is a conduit through which it can heal and prosper. His interests flourish in natural sciences as he pairs his love for knowledge and nature. He enjoys studying natural phenomena and bridging the divide between their technical, mythological, and personal significance. Through his discoveries, he can better interpret natural disasters and predict them, and taking preemptive measures might mean taking a risk to restore imbalances. His affinity to nature has allowed him to form close connections with spirituality. He believes in the existence of an afterlife; a world unseen to the naked eye where souls are capable of regenerative life. Souls are the timeless tether that maintains an individual’s presence in the universe, transcending death, which to him is worth celebrating. While Dante may not freely chase death, he regards it with humility. After all, without death, there would be little value in cherishing life.

Nestled along a vast stretch of magnificent mountains, an ancient tribe flourished. For almost a century they dabbled in polytheism, shared strong feelings of fellowship, and celebrated all manners of milestones and achievements. Grounded in beliefs rooted in druidism and peace, they thrived alongside the natural world, but the Alhaya Tribe often regarded as elegant was not without its history of blood and betrayal on its ledger.

Dante hails from a long line of successors, born in a time of civil unrest. The historically peaceful tribe hung in the balance due to an intense power vacuum after their heir, Ibis, had been mysteriously murdered a few months shy of her inauguration. Tensions were high and despite the conflict, daily training of the Eaforan continued as he would spend his first few months learning about tribe laws and customs.

He was incredibly close with his younger brother Bishop as they raised mischief in their youth. Blissful oblivion turned into harsh realization after their mother and grandfather were put on trial. Leadership rested with the Founding Family and the role of Ealdor was a right inherited at birth. Ibis’s death indicated that Roden, the previous Ealdor, would have to step forth as an interim leader. Some believed he craved power enough to eliminate his own daughter; meanwhile, others believed Gaia could have been equally as incentivized. But her efforts would have been in vain as she was not yet old enough to be inaugurated. Roden was ultimately and untraditionally reinstated.

As he and Gaia battled for innocence, a new law passed: the Law of Immediate Succession. Ibis was pregnant at the time of her assassination so nuclear heirs were no longer an option, slating Gaia’s children to be the next line of successors after Gaia, herself. Roden selected a new right hand, Alistair, a close friend of his, and to neutralize the unrest they grew stricter with their ruling, closing off the tribe’s borders to outsiders and packs with whom they shared relations as they entered a period of isolationism. Many theorists pointed fingers at the council, but with so few leads and her killer at large, Ibis’s case grew bitterly cold.

Most of the tribe begrudgingly accepted Roden’s return to Ealdorship, yet younger generations including Dante were unable to sympathize with him due to his authoritarian behavior where he emphasized discipline and control. The shift in politics birthed a short period of resistance and the most extreme example was the disappearance of Suma, Roden’s partner. It did not take long for rumors to circulate and eventually her body was discovered on the outskirts of the territory, gruesomely mauled and half-eaten, her innards strung decoratively across the grass. Stoically unfazed, Roden called for her Passage Ceremony.

A facet that made the tribe a wayward force in the eyes of onlookers was its archaic rituals. They were ceremonial cannibals. The Passage Ceremony was never violent or brought early death to an individual. It was controlled, sanctioned, and peaceful. It bridged the earth and the afterlife. Dante embraced their ideologies even if he was too young to fully understand them himself. Their rituals were honorable and celebrated an individual’s life.

Among other practices he partook in, his time of preparation for one of their most sacred traditions drew to an end. Cusping the age of one year he, his brother, and the other Eaforan his age were anticipated to begin the Ansteorra Trials: an intense training curriculum that would test its participants’ mettle and, upon success, promote the Eaforan to the next rank.

A few months was all it took Dante to complete the trials. Although grueling, he passed with perfection. He was praised and labeled a prodigy who befitted the role of successor. He aspired to become a Lira, a member of the military and defense division, where he would spend his time until his inauguration as he waited for fellow students to complete the trials.

A rift had grown between him and Bishop. No longer did Dante hear about his deepest feelings, fears, or dreams. When Dante put effort into rendezvousing with him as they did as pups, Bishop could only show disdain. His affectionate words grew curt. He, too, became a Lira, one nearly as exceptional as Dante. Despite the time they spent together in the division, they only interacted when necessary, only sparred when necessary. Dante could no longer ignore the unusually harsh blows Bishop dealt him.

Dante was awoken one night by a commotion along the borders. With other Liran, councilmen, and practitioners, he rushed to the scene only to be struck with horror and confusion. Alistair laid on the grass turned red, covered in fresh wounds. Roden’s scent lingered but pointed to nowhere. Alistair implored the Ealdor had been abducted by a rabble of figures shrouded in shadows. His blood was splattered across the ground with mysterious scents masked by woodland materials. It was as though he had been whisked away. Despite the practitioners’ fervent efforts, the advisor passed away shortly after.

Gaia rose to power. Dante two and was lapsing in and out of depression. History was repeating itself. It tormented him, how peace was torn asunder. But his mother sparked hope in him. He was close to her in his youth but the shackles of Ealdorship tore her away from him yet there was no shortage of loyalty in his heart. She was a stalwart woman with excellent political prowess and rigid standards for what kind of future she envisioned; impersonal in matters of business but dedicated to the welfare of the whole, she inherited a legacy of calamity but she would be the one to set history straight.

With the aid of her sympathizers, she set out to reform the tribe, abolishing the succession law and, eventually, the practice of cannibalism, a practice she believed to be the tribe’s root of evil. Judicial processes were long overdue for refinement and she, exercising her utmost power even against her councilmen, implemented a new law that formally prohibited cannibalism.

Mutiny unfolded as her sympathizers clashed with Alhaya’s purists who clung to their customs as they argued over what was truly the Alhayan ideal. In retaliation, Gaia sent the tribe into a state of punishment called Lockdown, where no one was permitted to leave the boundaries of the central territory. Leaving the premises was a grave offense and everyone followed a strict agenda. Gaia and her most trusted councilmen took shifts to watch over the tribe for several days.

Dante confided in Talas, his great uncle and sagacious councilman who had become his father figure. He lamented the toll Lockdown was taking. The old man gave him counsel, easing his worries but also adding to them with cryptic undertones. They were soon silenced under the suspicion of exchanging hearsay. Talas had been a member of the council since before Dante and even Gaia was born. He found their interaction peculiar.

Purists labeled Gaia a traitor who abused her authority, yet despite her controversial actions she could not forsake her ancestors. In an attempt to appease tradition, Gaia offered a proposal. Enchanted by the folktales shared between neighboring packs growing up, she introduced the concept of water memory. An omnipotent element capable of healing, cleansing, and energizing, it was a powerful asset that housed great potential after harnessing. When the tribe reached a tentative consensus, Lockdown was lifted under the condition of a new funeral rite.

Gaia led the procession east, bodies of the fallen in tow, carried with utmost care. Crossing their native mountains into another, they progressed towards a passageway where they would commence the ceremony. The Etheric Pass, renowned across the valley, its two center tarns worshiped and shunned by religious communities, was their target. A mystique air loomed as prophets sought the stars for guidance. It was the first time in history it would be incorporated into their practices and Dante believed it would not be the last.

Under the cover of night beneath a sky burning with stars, ethereal glimpses of pale colorful bands stretched across the horizons. Gaia led the funeral procession east where a passage cut through the mountains, called the Etheric Pass. It was renowned across the valley, its two tarns worshiped and shunned by other religious communities. A mystique air loomed as prophets sought the stars for guidance. It was the first time in history it would be incorporated into their practices and Dante believed it would not be the last. With bodies of the fallen in tow, they were submerged in the water deemed sacred. It was so clear, so still, the water was like mirrors absorbing the cosmic skies.

The reformed Passage Ceremony was a success and would become formally known as Sahrana. Many celebrated while it took time for others to adjust. The tribe adjourned back to their home, meditating on recent events. It was a brief moment of unity as they quietly talked amongst themselves. Its success served as a tremendous step forward, both religiously and politically. Sympathizers’ enthusiasm spread as the tribe began to believe an era of absolution was upon them. Many began to revere Gaia. A traitor redeemed, she was their savior, and purists came to liken her image to that of a previous predecessor who liberated their ancestors from a bloody regime.

A short time passed after Sahrana where a tentative peace settled over the tribe but Gaia was restless and not yet satisfied as she turned her eye from internal affairs to the outside. Their period of isolationism ended upon their finding stability, though she was suspicious of their relations between neighboring packs with whom had fallen silent. She tightened security, deploying the Liran in two-man cells along the borders on lookout duty.

As twilight fell the tribe slumbered. For a while, Dante felt at peace in the stillness, finding comfort inside a hollowed-out log. But he made a Lira’s most crucial mistake and lowered his guard while on duty. Lingering on the brink of consciousness, a tremendous noise thunder above as pressure came barreling down. The log collapsed as the pressure began to sink into his sink and tearing it open. Dante was lost in a panic-stricken fury as he resisted, blind to the darkness of the night. Like with many leaders past, he was next.

He called for his teammate, Bishop, but his voice never reached him. His body mechanically responded to his assailant as their attacks became familiar. Realization hit. Bishop.

Rage and confusion accumulated as Dante pleaded for him to come to his senses but all reasoning was lost. Bishop had the edge, having trapped his brother inside the log he laid in. He was merciless but eased off as Dante fell limp and wasted no time quietly slinking off into the darkness. He laid for a moment. Everything burned. Against his body’s will he found his footing and dragged himself to a nearby brook.

Bishop meant to kill him. There was not a shadow of doubt in his mind. Questions plagued him as he submerged himself into the gentle current, watching the water turn scarlet, far too taxed to notice the searing pain in his body. No longer could he stay. No longer was it safe. Bishop might have been privy to the murders transpiring, and he just made his intentions crystal clear. Had there been signs? If there were, Dante missed them entirely, far too focused on his new responsibilities and training to keep tabs on the ongoings of his brother, who he assumed was doing the same. As Dante ruminated, soaking in his own blood, he wondered. Had their falling out been his fault?

Deciding to follow the brook downstream, he staggered. He thanked the water for guiding him along and keeping him upright, for he would have toppled long ago. He navigated down the mountains, fortunate to have memorized the terrain during his time in the trials. He made it to the base before noon, certain search parties were already pursuing him and Bishop. Though poorly adept in the art of healing but made do with what he had, remembering the herbalism lessons, humbly glad to have paid attention. His physical scars healed but he continues to heal mentally and emotionally as the guilt of running away plagues him; the guilt of not having paid better attention grips him. He would find newfound freedom in his role as a loner but he would never stop pledging his heart to the tribe that raised him.