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The city of Loren was mostly known for its rolling green hills and warm sunny days throughout the year. Besides the Winter season, the Greenlands, which was the Hold the city of Loren was set in, experienced three seasons of warm weather and one season of snow and bitter cold. The city stood tall and proud on the tallest hill in the Hold, and any traveler could see it from miles away. The vast Darkwater Sea was to the west of the city, while the ragged and ominous Jethrall Mountains stood tall in the distance behind the city. It was a rather wonderful sight, and despite the bitter winters, the city of Loren was known as the most populated and seeked-out region to live in.

Serian walked along the cobblestone streets, his nails clicking softly against the rough stone underneath his paws. His russet fur ruffled gently in the afternoon summer breeze as the young fox made his way through the bustling crowds of others. He didn't have to dodge any of the bodies though. Everyone knew who he was. Lord Serian Varkoth, son of Lord Tamrik Varkoth. His father was the Lord of Loren, and was one of the most respected lords throughout the land. His name was praised in most Holds, but cursed in a select others.

Serian licked his muzzle, the sweet taste of honey still on his lips. He had just finished eating his midday meal at the palace and decided to pass the rest of his afternoon shooting his bow down at the soldier's training grounds. Although most lords were meant to wear lavish garments when outside of the palace, Serian settled for just a simple white cloth shirt and a pair of leather trousers. His father had always scolded him about going out in public dressed like that, but Serian could care less about how he looked. Everyone knew of his status. He didn't find it necessary to announce it by strutting around in the finest tunics and jerkins. Besides, with all of the sparring and wrestling he took part in with the soldier trainees, his nice clothes wouldn't last for long.

The sounds of shouting and the clash of steel-against-steel met Serian's ears as he jogged down the path that led to the soldier's training grounds. The training grounds were made up of several dirt sparring circles, along with an armory and target range for bow practice. The soldiers' barracks sat on a hill overlooking the grounds. Most of the trainees were in the sparring circles now, so only a few bodies occupied the range. Serian greeted some of the instructors he knew as he made his way to the range and took his position in one of the available spots. The fox unslung his bow from his back and set it on the wooden table before he jogged over to the armory to fetch a quiver of arrows. The gray wolf who managed the armory, Quartermaster Richy, looked up from the sword he was cleaning and smiled at Serian.

"Ah, you're late today m'lord." The older wolf smiled as he bowed his muzzle towards Serian.

"Well you can blame my father. He insisted that I discuss what I've been learning about the histories of our Hold." Serian said as he rolled his blue eyes dramatically.

"Ah, it may seem quite dull now, but it is important to learn such things, especially if you're going to be lord of a Hold someday." Richy replied with a nod.

Serian scoffed. "Yes, but that time is far away from now."

"It might come sooner than you think, m'lord." Richy replied with a wink. He eyed the quiver of arrows Serian had picked up from the counter. "Shooting the bow again? Has swordplay started to grow dull with you, m'lord?"

"Not yet. I need some more training on my bow though." Serian replied as he scanned the training grounds. "Seems like there's some new instructors around here today?"

"Indeed, there are." Richy replied with a nod. "Three new instructors to be exact. One of them used to be part of the royal guard."

"Oh really?" Serian asked in surprise. "Which one?"

"The white wolf at the farthest sparring ring. Aayrie is his name, I believe. He's quite good with the blade but he's exceptional with the bow. I'm sure he would spare the time to give you some tips if you're interested, m'lord."

Serian looked over at the white wolf standing casually against the outer fence of one of the sparring rings. He had a relaxed posture but was focused intently on the two trainees sparring in the ring. He was clad in only a pair of training leather trousers, allowing a clear view of his broad and toned chest.

"He does look rather handsome." Serian mumbled under his breath.

"I'm sorry m'lord, I didn't catch that." Richy said as he perked his ears.

"Er...I said I'm going to go talk to him." Serian said as he slung the quiver of arrows on his back. "Thanks for the arrows. I'll return the quiver when I'm done."

"No rush, m'lord. Enjoy yourself!" Richy said with a smile.

Serian made his way through the small crowds of trainees, acknowledging their bows of respect as he passed by each one of them. Serian didn't mind the gestures of respect, but he found it completely unnecessary for one to bow their muzzle just for walking by. He preferred to just be treated like any other citizen.

Serian walked up behind the white wolf, who was still watching the sparring match between two young coyotes.

"That's it now! Don't let your enemy retreat too far! Keep attacking! Jasper! What did I tell you about keeping your guard up? I don't want to see that sword lower again!"

His voice was deep and authoritative, but also encouraging at the same time. His white fur rustled slightly in the afternoon breeze, and Serian could see the dull scars of old wounds underneath the fur on the wolf's back.

"Keep moving now! Never stop moving! Keep your opponent guessing about your next move!"

Serian coughed slightly. The white wolf turned around and he immediately snapped to attention as his bright eyes fell upon the young fox.

"M'lord." He said as he took a knee on the ground and bowed his head.

"No need for that." Serian sighed as he waved his paw at the wolf. "Aayrie, correct?"

"Yes m'lord. Aayrie Tareyen. I'm one of the new instructors for the trainees here." Aayrie replied as he stood back up.

"Well I'm glad to see our trainees are receiving the best training from proficient instructors." Serian replied. "I hope the training grounds are sufficient enough for you?"

"I can't ask for anything else, m'lord." Aayrie replied with a smile.

"Good. Now, I have a small request for you."

"Of course, m'lord."

Serian twirled one of the wooden arrows in his paw. "I heard you are quite the sharpshooter when it comes to a bow. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind showing me a few things."

"I...my skill is of nothing to be impressed by." Aayrie said sheepishly as he rubbed his ears. "I will do what you want me to do though, m'lord."

"Well finish up here and come over to the range. I'll be waiting there. Take your time." Serian replied with a bow of his muzzle.

"Of course, m'lord. I will be over right away." Aayrie replied as he returned the bow.

Serian gave the wolf a smile and walked towards the range. He really was quite handsome, and very respectful too. Then again, if he used to be part of the royal guard, he wouldn't expect anything less. Serian's ears flicked as he heard the soft footfalls behind him, but he made no intention to turn around. He picked up his bow and nocked an arrow.

"M'lord." Aayrie said softly from behind.

Serian drew the string of the bow back and closed his non-dominant eye as he focused on the target in the field. He steadied his breathing and slowly exhaled as he let loose the arrow. The projectile whistled through the air and hit the inner left part of the target. Not a bulls-eye, but close.

"Well done, m'lord." Aayrie said with an approving nod.

Serian grabbed another arrow from the quiver and nocked it.

"Anything I need to improve on?" Serian asked as he let another arrow fly, this one a little lower than the first.

"If m'lord gives me permission to speak." Aayrie replied.

"Of course you can. You don't have to be so formal with me." Serian chuckled as he turned to face the wolf.

"O-of course m'lord." Aayrie replied as he blinked and extended his paw. "If I may?"

Serian handed his bow over to the wolf, who accepted it gently in his strong paws.

"I've discovered that most of your accuracy relies on a good posture. Make sure your back is straight, shoulders back, and there's no slump in your posture." Aayrie said.

The wolf demonstrated and Serian couldn't help but gaze hungrily at Aayrie's muscular posture.

"Back straight, eyes forward at your target. Inhale, then release the arrow as you slowly exhale." Aayrie said as he pretended to shoot an arrow down the range.

"Back straight, shoulders back, breathe. I think I got it." Serian replied with a nod.

Aayrie handed the bow back to Serian. He drew back another arrow but stopped as he felt Aayrie's soft paws against the small of his back.

"Straighter, m'lord." Aayrie whispered, his muzzle near the fox's ears.

Serian kept his eyes on the target but was completely aware of the wolf's gentle touch. He felt his heartbeat quicken as the wolf's paws moved to his shoulders and gently rested on them.

"Shoulders back. Very good."

Serian could smell the wolf's scent clearly now. Very masculine and musky, and...Was that a faint scent of arousal? Serian caught the wolf's scent again. There was definitely a hint of arousal.

"Now exhale slowly, and release."

Serian breathed out slowly, and released the tension on the bowstring. The arrow flew straight and true and hit its mark, dead center in the middle of the target.

"Flawless, m'lord." Aayrie said with a smile.

Serian shrugged as he set the bow back down on the table. "Well I still have quite a bit of practicing to do, but I can already see the improvement." Serian flashed the wolf a smile and bowed his muzzle. "Thank you very much, Aayrie."

Aayrie bowed his muzzle in the same manner. "Of course, m'lord. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Serian opened his muzzle to tell Aayrie he was dismissed for the day, but a sudden idea wormed into his head. It was a rather risky idea, but Serian knew the white wolf wouldn't be able to resist. Besides, it wasn't like he had done this before in the past with other soldiers or trainees. This would be a first with an instructor though.

"Actually, there is one more thing I need you to assist me with." Serian replied as he tried to keep a stern gaze.

"Of course, m'lord." Aayrie replied.

"Meet me in the armory near the sparring rings. I need to return my quiver to the quartermaster, and then I will meet you in there."

"Of course m'lord, but may I ask what you need assistance with?" Aayrie asked with a twitch of his ears.

"Oh, I just need you to check the tension in my bow. It feels quite stiff and may need to be released a little." Serian replied with a coy grin.

"Tension? M'lord, your bow felt perfectly-"

Aayrie fell silent as he saw Serian's mischievous smile and realized what the fox really wanted.

"I...o-of course m'lord. I will meet you in the armory." Aayrie stammered as his white cheeks became flushed with a light pink.

"Very well." Serian said as he shouldered his bow and took the quiver of arrows and started walking to the quartermaster.

Serian made his way back to the quartermaster and set the quiver of arrows down on the wooden surface in front of Richy.

"Done shooting so soon, m'lord?" Richy asked as he looked at the fox suspiciously. "I saw you and Aayrie over there. Looks like the wolf really did have some tricks to show you."

"He was very helpful and informative. Thanks for pointing him out to me." Serian replied.

"He left you quite quickly though once you dismissed him." Richy commented with a glimmer in his yellow eyes. "What exactly are you up to, fox?"

Serian just flashed the wolf a grin. "Why Richy, I'm not up to anything. Now if you'll need me, I'll be in the armory."

"Ah. Of course m'lord." Richy replied with an amused grin.

"Oh, and if you could make sure no one enters while I'm in there, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course m'lord, but you may want to take extra precautions and bolt the door." Richy replied with a wink.

"Good idea." Serian said as he started to make his way to the armory. "And if my father sends someone looking for me, I'm busy!"

---

"W-what happens if we get caught?"

Serian ignored Aayrie's concerned question as he knelt down in front of the wolf and placed his russet paws near the strings that held the wolf's leather trousers together. Serian smiled as his paws quickly loosened the strings with expertise.

"M'lord...I-I don't mean to stop you, but aren't you worried about us getting caught?" Aayrie whispered as he looked towards the door of the armory with nervous eyes.

"No. Don't be silly Aayrie. We're not going to get caught." Serian reassured him as his paws tugged the pants down and revealed the white wolf's loincloth.

A wave of heavy musk hit Serian's nose and he inhaled the wolf's scent deeply.

"A-are you sure?" Aayrie huffed.

"I'm sure. Now stop worrying so much and just relax." Serian chuckled as his paws gently unclasped the buckle of the wolf's loincloth.

He let the loincloth fall to the floor and admired Aayrie's white sheath. He inhaled the wolf's muskiness again and saw a tip of pink emerging from the white sheath. Serian took Aayrie's sheath in his paws and smiled as he felt the wolf shiver slightly against his touch. The wolf's musk was quite heavy in the warm and stuffy room they were in, and Serian could easily smell Aayrie's arousal grow as he teased the white sheath with his paws. Aayrie huffed softly above him as the white wolf leaned his back against the wall. Serian smiled to himself as he watched Aayrie's pink length slip out of his sheath. Serian slid his tongue out and gave the tip of Aayrie's member a quick lick, causing the white wolf to gasp softly. He took Aayrie's member in his paws and savored the warmness that radiated from it. He was quite impressed by how big Aayrie was, and he was certainly looking forward to tasting it.

Serian gave the wolf's member a few more licks until it started to throb and drip. Serian collected the viscous fluid on his tongue. Sweet with a hint of saltiness to it. Deciding he had teased Aayrie enough, Serian opened his muzzle and slid the wolf's length inside. Aayrie moaned lowly above him as Serian felt the wolf's warm member slip inside his muzzle and pulse against his tongue. Serian made sure the wolf's white orbs were attended to while he started sucking and gently rolled the orbs in his paw. Aayrie was having a difficult time holding back his moans of pleasure now. Serian looked up and admired Aayrie's handsome body. He could see the muscles ripple underneath the white fur with every subtle movement he made. Serian bobbed his head back and forth on the wolf's member, making sure his tongue played with the sensitive tip. He pulled completely off Aayrie's length once, only to completely take it all back into his muzzle. Aayrie was lost in the pleasure now, and was starting to gently thrust his hips back and forth. Serian grasped the knot that had started to grow at the bottom of Aayrie's member and gave it a gentle squeeze, eliciting a low growl of pleasure from the wolf above him. Serian allowed Aayrie to take control now, and kept his head still as the wolf thrust his length in and out of his wet muzzle. Fluid was starting to leak freely from Aayrie's member now, and Serian savored the taste and musk as he swirled his tongue around the shaft. Aayrie growled in pleasure and he marveled at the wolf's stamina.

After a few more thrusts, Serian felt the wolf's balls draw upwards in his paw. He felt Aayrie's cock start to throb in his muzzle and he became prepared for the wolf's orgasm. Aayrie growled lowly as his member pulsed and ropes of musk coated Serian's tongue and shot down his throat. Serian couldn't help but smile as he swallowed the sweet and salty fluid, his tongue collecting every drop. Aayrie panted hotly as he gently withdrew his sticky member from Serian's muzzle.

"Ah...I-I'm sorry, m'lord. I didn't expect that to happen so quickly." Aayrie finally spoke after he caught his breath.

Serian smiled as he stood up and wiped his muzzle. "Don't apologize. I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Aayrie smiled as he knelt down and picked up his loincloth. Serian's ears perked as he heard the evening bell ring, signaling it was supper time for the soldiers and trainees.

"I do believe I have to go now, m'lord. Otherwise I'll go to bed hungry tonight." Aayrie sighed as he clasped his loincloth back on and pulled his leather trousers up.

"Well we can't be having that. A handsome wolf like you can't afford to miss a meal." Serian replied with a sly grin as he trailed a teasing finger up Aayrie's chest.

Aayrie smiled as he tipped his muzzle. "Maybe if m'lord permits it, I can return the favor another evening."

"Permission granted." Serian said as he gave Aayrie a playful lick on his nose. "You better get going now."

Aayrie bowed his muzzle in farewell and quickly slipped out of the room. Serian waited a few minutes before he exited the armory, making sure no one was watching him as he exited the facility. The training grounds were empty now as the setting sun cast the scenery in a bright red and orange glow. Serian smoothed his clothes and took off in a slight jog, hoping the breeze would wash away some of the musky scent that clung to his clothing. He really wasn't worried about anyone around the palace knowing about his sexual endeavors, but it was better to keep things like that private so he didn't receive another lecture from his father about wasting his time sleeping with others. Speaking of his father...

Serian slowed down as the palace gates came into view. His father had requested him to meet with him after supper. About what, Serian did not have the slightest idea. Knowing his father though, it was either a talk about his studies, or it was to scold him for his lack of motivation in his studies. Whichever one it was, Serian was not looking forward to it. He didn't hate his father. He actually loved and admired the older fox. What he wished his father would understand though was that he was only nineteen years old. He still had a few years ahead of him before he would be facing the responsibilities of a lord. His father was still relatively young, only forty-five years, so he knew he wouldn't be replacing his father any time soon. Serian wished his father was more lenient on what he wanted to do. Serian wanted to spend his days sparring with the trainees, shooting his bow at the range, drinking with the soldiers at his favorite tavern, and sneaking off to his favorite brothel at night. He didn't want to spend his days cooped up inside the library, reading over dull accounts of historic events that had nothing to do with becoming a lord.

Serian adjusted the bow on his back as his nails clicked against the cobblestone beneath his feet. His stomach rumbled hungrily as he passed through the palace gates, giving a slight wave to the royal guards who snapped to attention as he walked by. The young fox clamored up the marble steps, taking two at a time. The palace was quite a magnificent site to look upon. It stood tall and proud, decorated by polished white marble and golden adornments. The palace gardens were kept green and vibrant, and the stone statues of the past lords that adorned the gardens practically told you the history of Loren, if one were to take the time and read each plaque of history. Serian often enjoyed spending lazy afternoons walking in the gardens and enjoying the colorful scenery.

Serian made his way inside the palace and jogged down to the dining hall. He licked his muzzle as the scents of tonight's meal drifted from the open doors of the dining hall. He poked his muzzle into the room and saw the room was mostly empty, besides a few scribes and servants who were hunched over their own meals. Serian strolled into the dining hall and perked his ears up as he spotted his father's personal scribe, Torin. The older fox had a book spread out in front of him on the wooden table, and he seemed more focused on his reading than his actual meal. Serian walked over to the kitchen and piled a plate up full of grilled meats, vegetables, and honey cakes before making his way over to the red fox.

"Fine reading material you have there?" Serian asked as he sat down next to the fox.

"Mm. Quite interesting, although I would prefer to do this in my study instead of at the dining hall." Torin commented as he pushed his glasses farther up on his muzzle. "How are you today m'lord? Studies going well I presume?"

Serian rolled his eyes and gave a heavy sigh as he took a bite of grilled beef. "The usual. Dull as always. I can't imagine reading material like that for a living."

The older fox chuckled as he flipped a page. "Some of us find reading this material quite interesting. Then again, we all have our different interests. For example, I don't know how you find enjoyment in getting all bruised up from sparring."

Serian chewed on his food as his ears flicked. "It's not horrible. You should try it sometime. I think you would fare well."

"An old fox like me handling a blade? I'm flattered that you would think I could hold my own, but I'm not as young as I used to be." Torin replied with a slight smile.

"I've heard the stories though from father. You were quite the brawler before you became a scribe."

"Ah, those are just stories now though. I'm afraid those times are long gone right now." Torin chuckled again as he took a sip of mead. "I don't even think I remember how to hold a sword properly."

Serian snorted through a muzzle-full of vegetables.

"Speaking of your father, he asked me to inform you to speak with him right away after supper." Torin said as he glanced at Serian.

"About what?" Serian asked as he washed down his food with a chug of his own mead.

"I do not know." The fox replied with a shrug. "He said it was of utmost importance though. He doesn't want you running out into the streets tonight until you've spoke with him."

Serian groaned.

"And don't get the idea of sneaking out. He's informed the royal guards to prevent you from leaving until you do so."

"Of course he has." Serian sighed as he stared at his now half empty plate. "He didn't tell you what he wanted to discuss?"

Torin shook his head as he closed his book with a soft thump. "No he did not. Whatever it is though, it's quite important."

"Right. His definition of importance is quite different than mine." Serian scoffed.

"Well you can argue with your father on this matter. I'm afraid I can't be of much help." Torin said as he pushed his empty plate away.

"I know. Thanks anyways though." Serian sighed as he lazily chewed his food.

"Of course m'lord."

The older fox brushed crumbs of food off of his cloth shirt and stood up. Serian looked up as the older fox rested a gentle paw on his right shoulder.

"Do me a favor Serian, try to listen to what your father has to say and take it to heart. You know he only wants what's best for you, however harsh he may seem at times."

"I suppose I can try. Just this one time though." Serian replied with a soft smile.

"That's the spirit." Torin patted Serian on the back. "Have a good evening, m'lord."

Serian waved to the older fox as he walked away from the table towards the exit, book tucked underneath his arm. Serian scooped up the rest of his food on his fork and shoveled into his muzzle. He chewed slowly as he dwelled on the thought of what his father wanted to discuss. If it was of utmost importance, why didn't his father go find him himself? Or send one of the royal guards? Then again, his father was always quite busy. Whatever the reason though, Serian had a feeling it wasn't going to be any good news. Any "important" conversation he would have with his father involved quite a bit of yelling back and forth, until one of them grew so frustrated with the other, usually Serian, that the conversation would end with the royal guards showing up.

Serian sighed as he pushed his plate away and gulped down the rest of his mead. Guess it was time to get the talk over with.

---

Serian quietly made his way up the stairs to the door of his father's study. The door was cracked open slightly, and Serian narrowed his ears toward the open space, listening for any sound from behind the wood. He heard a shuffling of papers and a few mumbled words, coming from his father, Tamrik. Another familiar voice mumbled something back in reply. Oh good, Gareth was in there too. Serian felt his tail curl in anger at the thought of the cougar. Gareth was the captain of the royal guard, and there was no one else who Serian despised more. The cocky cougar would never waste a chance to belittle Serian, and he was always siding with his father.

The voices fell silent. Serian stared at the wooden door and wondered if he would be better off just sneaking away quietly and hiding somewhere. Facing his father was inevitable though. Might as well just take his medicine and swallow it quickly. With a deep breath, Serian raised his paw and knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in." Serian's father said softly.

Serian pushed the door open and poked his muzzle in cautiously. His father sat behind his desk, his paws folded in his lap as his green eyes rested on Serian. He appeared relaxed, but his gaze was stern. His desk was a mess as always. Books were stacked up in piles and random parchments were strewn across the surface. His father's scent was heavy in the air. The scowling cougar standing behind his father eyed Serian with boredom.

"Serian. Please, take a seat." His father said calmly as he gestured towards one of his chairs that sat in front of the desk.

Serian closed the door behind him and swept his tail aside before he seated himself in the cushioned chair.

"I will try to make this as quick as possible, so please hold any interruptions until I'm done speaking." The older fox said as he rested his paws on the desk.

"Very well. I'm listening." Serian replied as he ignored Gareth's snort.

Tamrik stared into his son's eyes intently for a minute before he finally spoke.

"I'm not sure how to exactly explain this to you Serian, so please listen carefully. I received a message today from the city of Rothel. Lord Korbin passed away two nights ago." Tamrik said as his fingers tapped the aged wooden surface.

"Lord Korbin? What? How?" Serian asked in disbelief. "He wasn't that old! And he was perfectly in good health!"

"I know. I was just as shocked and disheartened at the news." Tamrik replied with a heavy sigh. "He was a good and fair lord. He will be missed."

Serian felt his shoulders sink as he took in the dreadful news. Lord Korbin was like family to Serian. The cheerful tiger was always smiling and optimistic, even in dark times. He was fair, courageous, and honest, someone who would give his clothes off his back to someone who needed them. Lord Korbin and his father were very close, and the tiger would make it a priority to make the three day journey to visit his father at least twice every four seasons.

"As you know, Lord Korbin's children are still very young, too young for any of them to take his place as lord." Tamrik continued as he rubbed his muzzle. "His oldest son just turned eleven last season. He is not prepared to take such a task."

Serian nodded slowly.

"In the letter, I was informed that Lord Korbin had prepared for such an event as this. In his will, he advised who would be taking his place as temporary Lord of Rothel if such tragedy ever occurred, and his offspring were not of age yet." Tamrik paused as he folded his paws in front of his face and rested his muzzle on them. "Lord Korbin has appointed you to take his place as Lord of Rothel."

Serian felt a cold chill run down his back as he stared at his father.

"W-what? M-me? Are you lying to me?" Serian stammered.

His father shook his head slowly.

"I'm not jesting you, Serian. It says so right here in his will. Here, read over it if you don't believe me." Tamrik replied as he slid a slightly crumpled piece of parchment across the desk.

Serian swallowed nervously and leaned over to read the scribbled writing. It sure was Lord Korbin's handwriting, and his seal was engraved in wax at the bottom.

"I, Lord Korbin of the city of Rothel, do declare on this fifth day of Summer, Lord Serian, first son of Lord Tamrik, Lord of the city of Loren, will take my position as temporary Lord of Rothel at my time of unexpected passing. Let this be so if I am to pass before my offspring have come of age, or if no one remains in my royal line." Serian read quietly as his tail flicked back and forth behind him. "Sworn on this day by Lord Korbin, Lord of Rothel."

Tamrik cleared his throat.

"Do you understand what this means?" The older fox asked as he studied his son.

"Yes, I think I do." Serian replied as he swallowed, his muzzle suddenly dry. "H-how do you know this is official though?"

"Of course it's official. That's not some parchment from the brothel down the road! That is an official document, signed by Lord Korbin himself." Tamrik replied sternly. "This isn't some game, Serian. You will be temporary lord of a city."

"I know it's not a game!" Serian snapped back as he felt his anger start to rise.

"Then start acting like it." His father narrowed his eyes. "You're not a young pup any more. It's time to stop spending your days brawling with the soldiers and sleeping with any male that fancies you. It's time to be responsible now."

"Why does it have to be me? Why can't it be someone else?" Serian argued as his nails dug into the wooden armrests on the chair.

"Who else would go, Serian? Go ahead, give me a name. I do believe I see your name written on that paper, and not some different name!" Tamrik snapped back.

"Who cares what the paper says! You think the inhabitants of Rothel would want to see a young fox take over their city? I wouldn't last more than a day as lord before someone assassinated me!"

"Finally, the young fox says something that makes sense." The cougar commented dryly with a cocky grin.

"Enough!" Tamrik growled as he held up his paw.

Serian jumped out of his chair and snarled. "How about I wipe that fucking grin off of your ugly muzzle?"

"I would love to watch you try." Gareth smirked without even flinching.

"Enough! Both of you! Serian, sit back down!" Tamrik shouted as he pointed to Serian, who was now breathing heavily, his paws flexing into fists.

"I'm not doing anything until your pet leaves the room!" Serian growled.

Gareth's smirk turned into an angry frown as his paw rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Gareth, you are dismissed." Tamrik said as he glared at his son. "Serian and I need to continue this conversation in private."

Gareth hesitated for a brief second, but finally huffed and stormed out of the room, letting the door slam close.

Serian was still breathing heavily as his tail thrashed behind him. His father was showing as much frustration as he was, his blue eyes narrowed angrily as his nails dug into the wooden desk.

"Sit. Down. Now." Poison dripped from his father's voice.

"But-"

"Sit down, or I will have Gareth escort you back to your quarters and you can spend the rest of the evening there." Tamrik threatened.

With a loud huff, Serian sat back down in his chair. Tamrik did the same as he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his paws. Serian suddenly realized how tired his father looked.

"There is no way you can get out of this, Serian. I know you're trying to think of any alternative to this situation, but it's inevitable. What's done is done." Tamrik said in a calmer tone of voice.

"But I'm not ready to be lord! I haven't even finished my studies! How am I supposed to be lord of an entire city when I don't know what to do?" Serian asked.

"You won't be completely blind. You will have your advisors. They will guide you on your tasks and responsibilities you will undertake."

"You think a couple of advisors will be enough? I'm only nineteen years!"

"And nineteen years is old enough to become a lord." His father finished as he crossed his arms against his chest. "Now I don't want you to argue any more. You will be the temporary Lord of Rothel, whether you want to or not."

Serian huffed as he sunk into his chair.

"Now you will have seven days-"

"Seven days?!"

"Yes. Seven days to prepare and pack up before you make your journey to the city." Tamrik replied as his ears twitched. "I suggest you start making your farewells soon."

Serian stood up from his chair, his anger now replaced by desperation and fear. "But I don't want to leave! What about Richy, or Torin? Or all of the soldiers I'm friends with? I don't want to leave them!"

Tamrik sighed as he stood up and walked over to Serian. He raised his paw and set it on his son's shoulder as he looked into the younger fox's eyes.

"I know, Serian. I know it's hard to do something like this, but you're grown up now. It's time to take on responsibilities like this. You need to be strong for me, and for everyone else." Tamrik said softly.

Serian looked down at the floor.

"Do you Serian?"

"Yes. I do understand." Serian replied with a heavy sigh.

"Good. Now I suggest you start making a list of what belongings you wish to take. Once you're finished, give it to one of the servants and they will pack everything up for you." His father said as he took his paw off of Serian's shoulder. "Seven days from tonight, you will leave at dawn with ten honor guards accompanying you. The journey takes about three days, two depending on the weather conditions."

Serian nodded in a silent reply. Tamrik sighed as he walked back to his chair and sat down.

"That's all for now Serian. You are dismissed. If you wish to do so, we can discuss this more tomorrow, as long as you keep things calm and civil." Tamrik said.

"Very well." Serian swallowed as he slowly turned around and trudged to the door. "Good night, father."

"Good night. Don't stay up too late."

Serian opened the door and darted out of the room, making sure to not even acknowledge Gareth who was leaning against the wall near the door. He felt sick to his stomach and was afraid his dinner was about to end up all over the carpeted floor. He scurried down the steps to the third floor where his quarters were and dodged the servants and guards that were scattered in the hallways. He ignored their greetings and didn't stop walking until he passed the threshold of his quarters and closed the wooden doors behind him. With heavy breaths, Serian pressed his back against the door and closed his eyes. A mix of emotions swam through his mind. He was angry, upset, sad, and scared all at the same time. He slowly sunk to the ground and drew his knees in to his chest, resting his muzzle on them. He didn't want to be a lord. Not yet, at least. Most of all, he didn't want to leave his city and his companions behind. He tried to think of some elaborate plan to avoid such a task, but nothing came to mind. Like his father said, there was no way out of it.

Serian's plan for tonight was to go down to the tavern for a few drinks with some of the soldiers, then stumble over to the brothel for some drunken sex with one of the many handsome wolves who worked there. All of that had disappeared from his mind now. He preferred to wallow in his own self-pity. He looked around his quarters, which was now dimly lit from the candlelight. His room was quite simple, only adorned with a large bed, desk, and wardrobe that held all of his clothes. A weapon rack near his bed held his bow and the broadsword that his father had given him for his birthday four years ago. He had his own spacious washroom, and even had two doors that led out to a balcony overlooking the palace gardens below. It was a rather nice place to relax, but Serian preferred more privacy.

He finally urged himself to stand up and walk over to the balcony doors. He pushed them open and walked out into the cool night air. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked down at the shimmering lights of the city below. The red fox admired the scenery for a few minutes, then carefully straddled himself over the balcony railing. With slow and careful steps, Serian shimmied his way out on the stone edge of the palace walls. With a huff of exertion, he jumped and caught the edge of stone that lined the roof and pulled himself up. This was Serian's private space for him to get away from everything. He often would spend hot summer nights up here, just gazing at the stars and enjoying the peace and quiet. No one knew about this spot, and he would often hide up here when his father sent the royal guards to find him. He quietly padded across the stone and made his way to his familiar spot, a small corner of the roof covered by the awning of the fourth floor. He even had a bedroll spread out for the nights he would drift off to sleep. Not the most comfortable place to sleep, but Serian preferred to sleep out under the stars then in his room sometimes.

With a sigh, Serian collapsed into his bedroll on his back and stared up at the clear night sky. He kept on replaying the conversation he had with his father over and over in his head. He wished this was just a nightmare, and he would wake up next morning and everything would be back to normal. The pit in his stomach though convinced him otherwise. There was no amount of denial he could have that would change things.

With another sigh, the young lord closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep underneath the night sky.

---

Serian jolted awake and sat up quickly, his ears perked high. The fox looked around in the darkness slowly. He could've sworn he heard something, something like the soft sound of paws landing on stone. Serian swiveled his ears and remained completely still. The night was silent, besides the light rushing of wind over the palace and the rustling of trees below. Serian yawned and settled back down in his bedroll. Great, he was starting to imagine things. Maybe if he told his father he was starting to go insane, he wouldn't have to be lord. Serian rested his head against the straw pillow and closed his eyes.

"Quite an odd place for a lord to be sleeping, isn't it?"

Serian bolted back up and frantically looked around for the source of the voice.

"Out here, young fox. Don't be shy. I'm quite harmless."

Serian cautiously crept out from his shelter and looked around in the darkness. His eyes finally settled on a shadowed figure hunched over, perfectly balanced on one of the stone walls that outlined the edge of the roof.

"Ah, there we go. What a strange place for us to meet." The shadowed figure said again as he looked at Serian from underneath a black hood.

"W-who are you? What are you even doing up here?" Serian demanded as he looked up at the figure above him. "Do you understand the palace grounds are prohibited to the public unless given special permission?"

"I didn't hear any rules regarding the palace roof though." The figure chuckled back.

Serian growled as he looked at the mysterious stranger. He was obviously a wolf, a white wolf who was quite athletic and muscular. He wore completely black leather armor, not a single part of his body was exposed besides his white tail and yellow eyes. A dagger hung at his side and a crossbow was slung across his back. The leather armor was tight against his muscular frame, and if Serian didn't feel threatened by the stranger, he might have admired the sight a little bit more. A black hood concealed the wolf's head, and a black cowl concealed the muzzle. Serian could see the wolf's bright yellow eyes as they examined him.

"The entire palace is off limits! That includes the roof!" Serian shouted in anger.

"I see. Well I'm not exactly the first one to follow rules."

"Well you'll follow them when I call for the guards!" Serian snapped back.

The fox flinched as the wolf suddenly jumped down from his perch and landed heavily right in front of Serian. He retreated slightly as the wolf towered over him, his paw resting on the hilt of his dagger.

"Now, now, no need to go and cause a ruckus." The wolf said lowly.

Serian's heart beat faster as he realized the stranger was now blocking his way for any attempt to escape.

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning. Allow me to introduce myself." The wolf said as he brushed away his black cloak that covered his left shoulder and bowed elegantly. "Jarik Eliron, extraordinary thief at your service."

Serian just huffed in reply as Jarik exited his bow.

"And you are?" Jarik asked as he pointed at Serian.

Serian remained silent as he stared at the wolf.

"Still shy? That's fine. I already know who you are anyways, Lord Serian, son of Lord Tamrik." Jarik sighed as he crossed his arms against his chest.

"Of course you know who I am. Everyone knows who I am in this city!" Serian scoffed in reply.

"Ah, I'm not exactly from around here." Jarik shrugged as he leaned against the wall.

"W-what are you even doing up here?" Serian asked in frustration.

Jarik shrugged as he finally removed his hood and pulled the cowl down to reveal his white muzzle. "Just enjoying the scenery."

"Are you sure you weren't trying to sneak your way into the palace for some quick coin?" Serian sneered.

"Here? Ha! I wouldn't waste my time!" Jarik replied as he flashed a sly smile. "Besides, your little 'royal guards' aren't enough for a challenge. I like to work for my gold."

"Work? You're a thief!"

"A great thief, actually."

Serian huffed angrily. He was getting sick of the wolf's cocky attitude. Master thief or not, Serian could care less about what the wolf wanted.

"Enough. I'm done with this conversation." Serian growled as he started walking and attempted to push his way past the wolf.

He stopped as a firm paw was placed on his chest, and Serian folded his ears back and bared his fangs at Jarik, who remained unfazed.

"I thought lords were meant to be more polite." Jarik chided as he kept his paw on Serian's chest.

"Not towards criminals and thieves like you!" Serian snapped as he slapped Jarik's paw away.

"Ah, a feisty one, you are." Jarik chuckled. "Listen fox, I don't mean no harm or anything. It's just when you're jumping from rooftop to rooftop and you see a sleeping fox on one of them, you just have to stop by and have a chat."

Serian crossed his arms as he looked at the wolf with a frown. "Well you weren't the most welcoming dressed in that garb."

"What if I was naked? Would you prefer that?" Jarik asked with a grin.

"W-what? No! Of course I wouldn't!" Serian snapped back in a flustered tone.

Jarik laughed softly, showing off his white fangs. "Calm down Lord Serian. I'm just pulling your tail."

Serian sat down where he was with an angry huff. Jarik did the same and sat cross-legged right across from the fox, his leather armor creaking softly.

"So what is a lord like you doing up here tonight?" Jarik asked as his yellow eyes looked into Serian's blue eyes.

"Getting away from everything." Serian muttered in reply.

"Sounds tough. Is that all?"

Serian sighed loudly. "Why do you care? I don't even know you! I shouldn't even be talking to you in the first place!"

"Ah, calm down, calm down." Jarik said in a hushed tone as he held up his paws. "You don't have to tell me anything, Serian. I'm just making some friendly conversation here."

"I didn't know thieves were supposed to be friendly." Serian replied with a smirk.

Jarik chuckled softly. "Ah, so the lord does have a sense of humor! Very good! Well, I'm not your normal thief."

"A thief is a thief to me. You break into places and take what you want." Serian shrugged.

"Think what you will, but you should be thanking me for where you are at today."

"Thanking you? For what?" Serian chuckled.

"The Raskin Crisis. Have you heard of it? You should have learned about in in your history books." Jarik replied as he stretched his neck.

Serian rubbed his muzzle. The name did sound familiar.

"I think so. Something about a war that almost broke out between here and Raskin." Serian said slowly.

"You've got the main idea. Now how was that war stopped?" Serian asked.

"The Nocturnal Guild. I know that answer. They were able to break into the Raskin Palace and uncover the false documents that showed the assassination of Lord Ryklie." Serian replied proudly.

"Looks like you have been studying. You're correct on that." Jarik smiled. "Now the question is, do you know what happened to the Nocturnal Guild?"

Serian shrugged. "Most of them are dead today. A few may remain but are in hiding..." He trailed off as he noticed Jarik's coy grin. "Wait...you're one of them! Aren't you?"

Jarik shrugged. "Technically, we don't exist anymore. If you would've done a little bit more reading, maybe you would've recognized our peculiar style of armor."

Serian glared at the wolf. "Why should I care about something that happened before I or my father were even born?"

"Well you don't have to. It's just an interesting story. I read about it when I was your age too." Jarik replied as he stood up and stretched.

"How many years are you?" Serian asked as he also stood up.

"Twenty-four years. And you?"

"Nineteen." Serian replied.

"Nineteen years? You look older honestly." Jarik replied with a soft smile. "Well I enjoyed my time talking with you, Lord Serian, but I'm afraid I must leave now."

"Leave? Where?" Serian asked. "Do you live in the city? Maybe I can come visit you and we can talk more."

"Warming up to me now? That didn't take long." Jarik laughed as he started walking away. "I think it would be best for you to stay away from me. I tend to bring danger wherever I go."

"Danger? What kind of danger?" Serian asked curiously.

"Everyone wants a thief like me to hang." Jarik replied with a grin. "You're better off just living here in the palace. Maybe I'll stop by again though. I did enjoy talking with you."

Serian felt his face flush as he watched the wolf conceal his identity again and take off into the darkness. He faintly heard his footfalls for a brief second, and then silence. Serian remained standing as he looked out into the distance. He was surprised that the sky was starting to glow softly in the distance. He didn't think he had been out here that long. Serian yawned as he walked across the roof and carefully took his route back to the balcony of his bedroom. He was still tired, despite the excitement that still flowed through him about the conversation he had with Jarik. Sure, he was still a thief and he had quite the cocky attitude, but Serian had to admit he was quite charming and handsome. He hoped he would have a chance to talk to him again, at least before he left the city.

With a groan, Serian climbed into his bed and burrowed himself under the blankets. He drifted slowly off to sleep, his thoughts clouded by the white wolf.