The young Furrikin settled into his untidy nest of a bed. "Bedtime story, yay!"
he squealed, bringing a tired smile to the eyes of his mother.

"All right, a bedtime story. A short one, since it's so late. What do you want
to hear? The Emperor and the Tae'dae? You haven't heard that one in a while."

The young one considered the matter with great seriousness. He yawned, closed
his eyes. "No, tell me about the Elders."

His mother blinked. "The Elders? That's a very long, serious story. Are you
sure you want a tale of war, before bed?"

The Furrikin opened one eye. "So make it short, mama! And don't tell me about
the fighting. Just talk about the happy parts."

The mother shook her head bemusedly. "There aren't many 'happy parts' in the
story of the Elder Wars. But I'll see what I can do." Already her voice was
beginning to blur as the young furrikin began to fall into the mists of
dreaming.

Mama began to recite, her tone sing-song, as though recalling a story told to
her long ago and consigned to memory.

"Now hear the tale of the Elders so great, Thinkers and Leaders, yet betrayed
by hate."

The young furrikin turned over restlessly. Already the unpleasant parts!

"In Seven proud circles were they arrayed, and for each a purpose was carefully
made."

This was more like it, thought the young one.

"First, the Leaders, cunning and true."

Visions flowed through the child's half-asleep mind of great Gods, each one
looking somehow like his grandfather, white-bearded and wise. They all looked at
him with a wink, and he giggled. His mother smiled at him and continued.

"Second, the Fighters, of valiant thew."

The child didn't know what 'thew' meant, and could only guess at 'valiant,' but
'Fighters' spoke for itself. Proud Elders strode through his thoughts, with
shining armour and fearsome weaponry, each one a great warrior.

"Third, the Meditators, who thought from afar."

What was that? They weren't much fun. The only thing that came to his mind was
some kind of monk, like the ones in the stories, who lived in the mountains and
thought a lot. Boring.

"Fourth, the Artists of flower and star."

That was a little better, he thought! He could just see them- powerful Gods
kneeling down to paint flowers bright purple, and making rainbow stars. That
would be fun, he grinned to himself.

"Fifth, the Thinkers, of wisdom hewn."

More words he didn't understand, and more boring thinking. These ones sounded
more like Aquamancers or Geomancers, sitting around a lot and coming up with
creative ways to swat flies.

"Sixth, the Awakeners of Night and Moon."

Wait, he thought, so Gods created Night and Moon? Or woke them up. Were they
asleep? Visions crowded into his head of a black shadow and a shining figure
lying together in his bed, fast asleep, and a goddess who looked strangely like
his mother coming in and shaking them awake. "Rise and shine!" she shouted at
them. "Sun's setting in fifteen minutes!"

"Seventh, the Creators, makers of life."

He knew what that was. But by now his thoughts were more than half dream, and
he could already see Gods kneeling down and making deer and spiders and birds
out of thin air. What kind of crazy Elder made mosquitoes? Probably Fain, he
decided. He'd heard He was a meanie.

His mother whispered, half to herself, the next line.

"Eighth, the Soulless, sowers of strife."

But the child heard it anyway, even as buried in dreams as he was, and by now
they weren't pleasant dreams. Shapeless shadows pursued him through dark
hallways. He screamed, but nobody came. Finally, one of the shadows grabbed him
and ripped out his soul, sucking it up. It turned into him, and smiled coldly.

The young furrikin twisted and turned in his sleep, cold sweat beginning to
pour from his brow. His mother frowned and patted him, trying to comfort her
child. When he calmed down, she finished the little chant.

"These are the Gods of the earliest day, fled or fallen as Soulless prey."

She stroked the fur out of his eyes and gave him a kiss. By now he was fast
asleep. He probably hadn't even heard the last line. "All the better," she
murmured, and left, closing the door behind her.