❀ The Wolf Mother ❀
Goddess of Nature's Wrath and Beauty
This is Mila
Mila is many things. A goddess, a queen, a mother, a warrior, a huntress, a wife, etc.etc.
**Disclaimer ; This is not a 1000+ year old god dating a young woman. Their is a 10 year difference and max, and they do not interact romantically until their 30s-40s. Coolio 👍**
Originally everything lived on one plane, fae, deities, and hellbeast alike, long before the Fae realm existed, before the Koer were chased under ground and when demigods walked the earth freely. Long before mortals remember, or perhaps they choose not to. This was the time of mythologies and legends. It was during this time that Mila lived, a young human warrior and huntress devoted to the land. One way or another she met one of the youngest gods- barely a god- barely a young man. The legends say her humility and connection to the earth and hunting prestige caught his eye.
The truth?
The belief that a tribute to the fae was somehow beneficial or would ward off trickery. Or perhaps it was the convenience of being rid of a young woman with a mind of her own and courage to say it.
However the fae are not always as cruel as the human tales may tell, and the young god let her be free, as long as she vowed to return the next day to join him in a hunt. Now all fae are awfully tricky creatures though, cruel and kind alike, so she made the deal as long as he promised her safety and never told she was human. His word was true, as all fae are, and thus the first promise was made.
Eventually as the years went by this god made a name for himself- many in fact. The Father of Wolves, The Wood's Bane, The Wolf King, The Talented. He grew into the title carved out by fate long before he was even born.
Likewise Mila became respected among the fae for her cunning words and sharp wits, her grace while hunting and her courage in combat. She was his equal, in every way shape and form. Some say they were soulmates, and it must be true, for soulmates can never exist without one another. Wherever there is a Wolf King, his queen is beside him in all her glory. There are numerous tales of her greatness, but the most important is her fall.
The Koer are a wicked creature; unlike the fae they can lie as they please and war among themselves over petty things. They are greedy and vile, with one mission; To kill all other magical beings, for there is only so much magic in the universe, and without competitors they could hoard it to themselves. This is where the Wolf King's true purpose was laid, to strike down the head of the Koer.
This great battles are always more complicated on the surface though. As the final blow was dealt to Briton, the Koer's cursed King, an equally fatal one struck the huntress, born out of hatred and vengeance by the Koer Princess for her father.
With the loss of their king Koer fled undergrad, hiding from the wrath of the Wolf Father's fury. He bore such a rage as the world had never seen, one that scarred all the pantheons of humans and upper celestial deities alike. A red lensed rage that shook the heavens and the earth itself cried out for it's fallen daughter and defender, begging for mercy as he vowed to let the world burn. Such a rage, that the celestials that ensured balance to reality could not foretell what would come. A tale of destruction due to grief that echoes throughout time, over and over again.
And so Mila was reborn, by fate's design.
A goddess of such raw power.
A new era started. Some humans named it Anno Domini, others simply 'The Common Era'. To ensure such horrors would never befall the good supernatural creatures of the world again, the fae realm was created- a safe haven for all magic to hide away from the wickedness of humanity and massacring of the Koer. A hidden place, found only in the whisper of trees, and the circles of toadstools, where time worked beyond the human realm and the fae had their own gods.
The new born goddess of nature - it's beauty and wrath, it's fertility and demise - and her Wolf King became its sovereign protectors, avoiding the Human Realm at all costs.
Children were born and lost, a new pantheon, a pack, was built. Demigods rose and fell and all was right.
But fate is such a dastardly force- and can only be restrained for so long. History will repeat itself until the lessons of old are no longer distant tales of grandeur.
Too easily has Mila's story been dissolved into a romantic fable; wishful thinking flowery drabble and the love story of poets. Too long has the story of her soul been ignored, how it wasn't her lover but she who cursed the land and poisoned it's water. It was her fall that bore plagues upon the fields and illness among the villages, rot against the trees and caused the land to starve it's creatures.
It wasn't love that scared the heavens, that shook the earth and threatened ruin.
It was rage.
Pure, unbridled rage.