I shall sing of the packs that served in the spires
how they came to be, how they were rallied
by old Maka himself, and the deeds that he did
to bring them to Hallifax, to make the packs serve.
Nurturing spires, if you find my work pleasing
then recall what he did, and teach me the words
that I might sing of old Maka and honor his work.
Old Maka had served for several long years
and his pack had prospered within the spires,
he had done well to guide them to a new home.
And they all had served well, they were a boon
to their bloody caste comrades, they had fought well
in defense of the spires, they had shed their blood.
Their service was pleasing, so it was decreed
by vote of the Board to send old Maka forth
out into the mountains to seek out new comrades,
the other shards of Loboshi, wherever they lived
and bring them to the spires, bind them with oaths
to serve the state well, to live with new comrades,
so old Maka went forth to seek out the packs.
He searched for long days, he searched for long nights,
wandered the mountains, trudged through the snow
until at long last, as he made his nightly camp
a figure approached him there under the stars.
The one who approached was a shard of Loboshi
his skin clung to him tightly, close to the bone
and his grey fur covered him quite thinly,
and his eyes had sunk deep into his skull.
In spite of all that he moved with great speed
and there was a great strength in his limbs,
and there was a light shining deep in his eyes.
He was a husk, he was withered and faded.
He was a god, less a shard than a whole.
He spoke to old Maka and his voice was strong
he spoke without fear and he spoke without pain.
"Friend Maka, will you suffer me to sit
here at your side, and to speak with you freely
in clean, honest words between our two souls?"
Old Maka responded with his soft, low growl.
"Speak to me freely, you who call me your friend
though I do not know you, not your face or your name."
The stranger smiled as he spoke in his turn.
"We are brothers, the heirs to Loboshi.
We share the same burden, the beast in our soul
and we fight the same battle for peace in our minds.
We must therefore be friends, we must be comrades
in the long war for the sake of our hearts.
So tell me, my friend, have I guessed your errand
have you gone forth to win friends for that war,
to bring allies home to the peace you have found
to teach them new ways, to give their souls restraint?"
Old Maka nodded, and the stranger spoke on.
"You shall find them to the north, east, and west.
Look to their tracks, for they are not hidden,
and do what you can to save our kin's hearts.
Look to their souls, and make them live kindly.
Quiet their rage, that they might live in peace.
Do what you must, do what needs to be done."
Having thus spoken, the stranger arose,
nodding his head, and then took his leave,
walking into the night and fading from view.

Old Maka marched on, he soon made his way
to the northernmost pack, who lived on harsh crags
which cruel winter held tightly and never released.
He knew lands such as these, such lands had birthed him,
he knew the hard souls that such a life bred
and knew to show only strength, weakness would doom him
The pack that he found was led by fierce Biri.
She was distinguished in battle, in blood, in strife,
in the dealing of death, in slaughter and fury.
She ruled over her pack by the strength of her limbs
and when others rebuked her, her fangs dripped with blood.
Her pack was vast, for she had conquered all others,
all her rivals had knelt, or else they had perished
out in the cold snow, stained red with their blood.
Such was the queen whom old Maka approached,
walking alone, making no sign of fear,
walking straight to her, looking her in the eye.
She roared out a challenge as he came nearer,
her voice filled with wrath, passion, and fury.
"Kneel down before me, proud-hearted stranger
all must show due respect, submit and pay homage
or else be brought low, wounded and slaughtered
by my fangs and my fury, the strength of my hands.
By what right do you claim to walk here with pride?
What deeds have you done to be proof of your valor?
Who have you slain to be proof of your power?
Speak out your name, lay claim to your glory
or kneel down before me and beg for your life."
Old Maka spoke in a voice without wrath,
free from all passion, his voice was calm.
"Men call me Maka, and I do not kneel
when pain is threatened, I cannot submit
to unreasoning force, not since I have lived
in a city of laws, and seen pure reason's light.
I would show you the same, if you are willing
and free you from wrath, set your soul at ease.
Or if that does not please you, if your mind yearns
for passion and folly, then I offer instead
to lead you away from the ice, out of the winds
which bite at your flesh, to a better place
where no man shall starve, where none shall be frozen.
Come to the spires, let Hallifax claim you
and keep you safe, we shall call you our friends
if you kneel to our laws, we shall be dear comrades."
Fierce Biri laughed, and she roared and she howled
and spoke with contempt, shrieking with laughter.
"Strength is my law, and you shall respect it,
submit and serve me, abandon your spires
or else stand and be slain, that is your choice.
I am the strongest, so it falls to my pleasure
to rule by command, and to do as I please.
There is one law, and that law is action,
all others are lies, and the truth wins with time."
Maka saw then that he could do little else
but make ready for battle, he spoke out a challenge.
"Peace made me mighty, the peace in my mind
is stronger than passion, stronger than wrath.
I say you are weak, for your vices command you,
and that you cannot rule, for you do not rule yourself.
Slay me if you can, if you find my blood pleasing
then let it be spilled, and I shall do unto you
as you strive to do unto me, let it be so.
And if I should conquer, then I shall rule
by the same right as you, and I shall yield power
to the laws of my city, it will be so."
They spoke no more words, Biri lunged forward
howling her fury, and Old Maka recieved her
caught her quite calmly, forced her to the ground
and bade her yield. She lashed out against him
with claw and with fang, and with a great sigh
Maka did as was proper, did what had to be done
and so wrathful Biri was returned to the wheel.
In a single short moment, all of Biri's pack knelt
before conquering Maka, who spoke with calm words.
"See, my new comrades, where fury shall take you.
Grim death awaits all who are ruled by their passions,
but for those who instead let pure reason take hold
and rule over their hearts, for them there is hope
and peace in the spires, where I shall lead you.
When I have gathered our kin, I shall lead you to peace.
Do you find such things pleasing, do they seem proper?
Then follow behind me, and such things shall be so.
If your heart calls you to hate all that is decent
then spread out as you please, here on the ice
I shall not stop you, the spires have no place
for barbarous people, you may choose as you please."
None wandered away, the whole pack chose with one mind
to serve the great spires, to follow old Maka
to a new home in the sky, and to true-hearted comrades.

Maka made his way westward, he went with great haste
to seek out a pack that lived on the green hills,
a land of great wealth, a land without pain.
Their flocks were vast, their vineyards were fruitful,
they had grown fat on the plentiful flesh of the lambs,
wine had rendered them foolish, they drank without heed
to the cost of their pleasure, such were their ways.
The richest among them was the one they called chief,
the one they called Erta, he had been brave long ago
and his mind had been quick, but such days were long gone.
Alas! He had been conquered, not through force of arms
but through his own greed, he drank and he slept
and forgot his own virtues, let go of his skill.
But he was not without kindness, when old Maka came
Erta recieved him with joy, gave out the command
for a flock to be slaughtered, and bread to be baked
and a feast to be held, that all might rejoice.
The table was laid, a great feast was prepared
of countless dozens of lambs, of sheep and of swine,
and vast piles of bread, and beyond all of that
a barrel of wine for each man, such was the feast
that fat Erta provided, a great show of excess.
When all had feasted, then fat Erta spoke first,
as wine dripped from his jaws and spilled onto the floor.
"Now, honored stranger, now, my honored guest,
will you tell me your name, why you have wandered
what brought you here, what was your purpose?
How did you come here? By the strange tone of your voice
I know that your home must be long leagues away."
Old Maka spoke then, and his voice was the clearer,
he had let no wine pass his lips, he could still think.
"Generous Erta, your ears have not deceived you
I come from the spires that shine up in the sky
far off in the distance, there lies my home.
I am called Maka, and I come to you to serve
my city, by seeking new comrades abroad.
We shall call you our comrades, you shall be protected
and rich as you are, your wealth shall increase
by the efforts of all, if you serve the spires."
Erta thought on his words, then spoke his concern.
"You make a fine offer, it would tempt many men
but there must be a price, some trifling demands
that you have kept to yourself, I beg you to speak them."
Old Maka smiled, chose his words with great care.
"Wise-minded Erta, you have spoken the truth
and done it quite bluntly, which is pleasing to me.
We value pure minds, and we value pure reason
so you must give up the vine, forsake your vineyards
and let reason reign, for that is our price."
Erta refused him, but there was grief in his words.
"Do you know why we drink, kind-hearted Maka?
The vine does not please us, we cherished our senses
and our reasoning minds, our poems and plans.
But something else claimed them, I think you have met
the same foes as us, that blood-hunger and wrath
that takes hold of our minds. How could we fight it?
Our minds were wicked, so we turned to the vine
to make ourselves dullards, so we would not be monsters.
There are those among us who go further westward
and climb into the mountains, those with calm hearts
and learn another way, while we who have lingered,
we who have weaker hearts, we do what we can.
Mind-slaughtering wine, the sweet blood of lambs
the first one to calm us, the second to sate
our weakened desire. There is no more to be done.
I do not doubt that you have found some other way.
Rejoice in that deed, and teach it to others
who have strength left to learn, are stronger than us.
I embrace you, my friend, I wish you good fortune
and I give my leave for any to follow
who find your offer pleasing, and may they find peace."
Having thus spoken, Erta turned and he left
and Maka spoke to his pack, made them his offer
and a scant few accepted, departed with him.

Old Maka pressed on, he walked to the east
and sought out a great pack, led by a sage,
Makaiku the wise, a healer and poet
justly famed for her skill, for her all-grasping mind.
She had heard of his coming, she traveled to meet him
and they met on the road, she bowed and addressed him.
"I know of your new home, son of the wastelands,
and I know of your deeds, and why you have come here.
I am not unpleased with the thought of your spires
nor of a fair union of the pack and the city,
yet I am wary, I still keep hold of my caution
for haste brings twin pains, passion and doom.
Speak your mind plainly, give me your offer
and I shall give it due thought, you have my word."
Old Maka spoke then, there was hope in his voice
for peace and for union, without any strife.
"Makaiku the wise, your fame has spread far,
and men call you great, it clearly is so
for you have prospered here in a harsh place
and kept unfeeling laws, as is just and proper
in spite of your passions, which you have overcome.
Think, Makaiku, of what more you might do
in a home better than this, with full support
from a city of comrades. Think of the service
which you might render, not just to your pack
but to all who have sprung from long-dead Loboshi
by sharing your ways, and bringing them peace.
Hallifax will help you, there is no better place
for such things to be done. That is my offer
greatness and service, reason and peace."
Makaiku pondered, she thought on his words
and gave her response, spoke noble words.
"Old Maka of Hallifax, you make a fine offer
but you claim many things, your city's strength
and the support it can offer. I shall need proof.
I shall give you a challenge, give you a test
that I might learn if your power is true
and if your people's support is of any value.
I care not for valor, bloodshed is displeasing,
so I shall give you a trial of mind and of soul.
There is a spring, it lies not far from this place
its waters sting with the touch of cruel winter
and shall bring you great pain, go to that spring
and lay down upon it, bear its bite well.
Two men shall go with you, bearing cruel whips
and they shall shed your blood, such is your trial.
For one day and one night, you must bear such things
without sound of complaint, I shall be watching.
Go. I shall see if you command your own heart."
Maka did as she bade, went down to the spring
and laid down upon it. The cold bit at his hide
but he took his position, bore it in silence.
Then the lash came, blows rained down upon him
and something stirred in his heart, he had not felt it
for many long years, the grim fury called him
to answer pain with pain, to claim the blood-price
for blows he was bearing, instinct demanded
that he rage and he roar, and he fight off the foes.
He breathed in deeply, sought to banish the thoughts
to set instinct aside, to let sweet reason reign.
He longed for battle, for rage and for slaughter
and it nearly consumed him, he would have broken
and stained the spring red, if he had not held
a thought in his mind, of his glorious spires
and those who lived there, the hope for the future
for progress and plenty, if he could succeed.
He passed through the day, he passed through the night
with that thought in his heart, and his pain ceased
and when dawn arrived, he rose up from the spring.
He was embraced by Makaiku, who spoke joyous words.
"Spire-dwelling Maka, lead us where you will
you have proven your virtue, the strength of your mind
and so we shall follow, we shall go to your spires
and serve as we best can. Comrade, lead on."

Old Maka at last made his return to the spires,
the packs walked behind him, they found a new home
where they served well, where they lived justly.
His comrades were pleased, great Jekkex embraced him,
for the bloody caste blossomed with the might of the packs.
Halon embraced him, the inquiring caste prospered
with the new knowledge they brought of lands in the distance.
Kind Kruye embraced him, the packs were a great boon
for the enabling caste, for they worked without resting
at whatever task fell to their lot, until it was done.
All rejoiced at the gifts the packs carried with them,
not their trifling tokens of wealth, but nobler things
the skills that they shared with those of the city.
The poets were pleased to hear the words of the packs,
to learn of their verses, add new forms to their own.
The soldiers rejoiced, for the packs chose to share
their great skill at arms, to teach their own ways
of bloody battle and war, of spear-work and doom.
They brought new crafts to the city, pleasing to all
who deal in such things, artists and merchants
alike took pleasure in them, learned many things,
the carving of wood and of bone in a thousand new ways
and the shaping of stone, they taught such things freely.
All the people rejoiced and embraced their new comrades
and the spires grew in strength through old Maka's deeds.