Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 24

Story by Contrast on SoFurry

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24

The whispers started immediately, and the words washed through Ander's head one after the other.

"Serves him right."

"He got exactly what he deserved, siding with Ander like that. It's disgraceful."

"First Banno, now Hezzi, and Ander will follow soon enough. The whole family is cursed."

Ander's whole body felt numb. Even the pain was dim and far away. Everything else, however, stood out in horrific clarity. In a way, it was exactly the opposite of how he had felt when he awakened from the murky waters of unconsciousness just a short while ago, when his body could feel every little scratch and bruise, but his mind was mush. It made perfect sense, really. He was going back down again, into a nightmare he could never wake up from because he was already awake. This was real, and it was happening right now, in front of his very eyes. Nightmare and reality? Why even try and separate the two? They were one and the same. His little brother was lying on the ground, huddled up in a spreading pool of his own blood.

And he was dying.

The moment dragged on forever and ever. That single word, dying, grew to a monstrous size in Ander's mind, until it pushed everything else aside.

Hezzi was dying...

"Noooooooo!!" a bloodcurdling scream filled the air, killing every whisper in one fell swoop, and before Ander knew what was happening, Renna had stormed into the centre of the circle, stopping just short of the red puddle growing around Hezzi's body. She stood looking down at him, one hand over her mouth, the other clasped around her wrist, breathing in short, harsh gasps, her eyes overflowing with tears, yet completely wild.

The logical part of Ander knew that only a few seconds could have passed since Hezzi fell, but that terrible spell was still upon him, slowing time down to a crawl. He didn't want to, but he could see everything.

He saw a moth, just as grey as Hezzi's fur, fly too close to the fire. It burned up in a tiny, anticlimactic puff of flame, its delicate wings instantly reduced to ash and embers. They drifted down, carried by the breeze, and landed in Hezzi's blood, still spreading... spreading... until it touched Renna's bare feet, slowly seeping into the gaps between her toes, travelling up her soft fur, turning it red.

That's when she lost it completely.

"Hezziiiiiiii!!" she screamed, dropping down to her knees. She reached out for him, but hesitated, her hand hovering in midair, shaking like a leaf, clearly terrified.

Why are you just standing here?_Ander thought. _Go to him! GO!!

But he couldn't move. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his legs going. This was just like that terrible dream he had, but real. His nightmares really were becoming a reality...

Renna's hand slowly came down towards Hezzi's shoulder, her tears freely falling from her eyes and disappearing into the red sea beneath her. But just before her fingertips could reach him, she was suddenly and violently jerked away by a furious she-wolf.

"Get away from him, Renna!"

"But Mother! No!"

"I said get away!"

"Noooo!!"

The slap was so hard it knocked the poor girl down to the ground, and before she could even clear her head enough to realize that she had been slapped, her mother was on her, screaming in her face.

"Do you want to end up like him!? Huh!?"

"I -"

"That boy got exactly what he deserved! Now get up! And stop that damn snivelling! You're not a cub anymore! I said get up!"

She jerked Renna to her feet and forcefully pulled her back towards the crowd, wrenching on her daughter's arm with each step. "I can't believe you made me come out here like this! Everyone staring at me... You are going to get the beating of your life, Renna!"

"Please, Mother! Hezzi -"

"Shut up, just shut up! Shut! Up!"

Ander watched them both get swallowed by the crowd; the mother looking straight ahead with a furious glare, Renna looking back over her shoulder, her eyes swimming, reaching for Hezzi even as she was pulled farther and farther away.

And then they were gone.

Somehow, Ander started moving, but it didn't really feel like he was moving at all. It was more like he was standing perfectly still, and the rest of the world was moving all around him, taking him closer to his crazy little brother.

"You've gone too far this time, Garten," Ander heard Nilia say a thousand miles away. "That's the Chieftain's son..."

"So? You saw what happened. He came lunging at me. I had every right to defend myself. What's more, he was trying to interfere with an execution. This time the law's on my side, bitch."

And still the world moved on, carrying him right to Hezzi side. He kneeled down in the exact same spot where Renna was just moments ago, and lightly touched his little brother's shoulder. "Hezzi?"

There was no response.

"No... please, no..." This couldn't be happening. He came back here to save the lives of the ones that he loved, not this! Not this!

A line of blood slowly flowed down from the cut in Ander's forehead and ran into his eye, red and stinging. He blinked it out and a crimson tear fell into the ocean of blood pouring out of his little brother's stomach. It vanished without making even a single ripple, as if it never even existed, as if it didn't even matter.

"Hezzi?" Ander shook him gently, barely touching him at all.

A moan, a whimper of pain. Hezzi was still alive!

"Hezzi!"

"Ander," he said, clutching his stomach. "It hurts..."

It hurts. Ander never realized how bad those simple words could be. "Don't try to talk, okay? We'll just..." He carefully checked Hezzi's wound, but there was so much blood, and he had no idea what to do. He couldn't even tell how deep it was.

"I - I'm sorry, Ander," Hezzi said, shutting his eyes tight. "I messed up again..."

"No, Hezzi! You didn't! It's okay! Everything's going to be okay! You'll see!"

Blood leaked out from between his clutching fingers, and tears welled up behind his closed eyelids. "No it won't," he said. "Nothing will ever be okay again..."

A shadow loomed over them both, hulking and black, dancing in the flickering firelight.

Ander spun around on his heel, certain that it would be Garten with his spear held high, but it wasn't.

It was Mother, looking down at them in total disgust, like someone who had just stepped onto a juicy cockroach.

"Stupid boy," she said.

Ander wasn't sure whether she was talking to him or Hezzi. Maybe both. "Mother," he said, choosing his words quickly, but carefully. "I know you want me dead. I don't know why, but that's fine. Really it is. The entire tribe wants me dead, so it makes no difference to me. But Hezzi is innocent in all this! He doesn't deserve to die! So please, please save him! I beg of you!"

One corner of her mouth pulled down in a sneer, as if she was fighting the urge to throw up just from hearing his words. "Move."

Ander moved out of the way and Mother knelt beside him, with all the other Wolves looking on in silence, more out of respect for the tribe's witchdoctor than any kind of sympathy for Hezzi.

"Where did the fool get it?" Mother asked, holding out her hand.

Ander took it, unmindful of the grimace she showed at his touch, and guided it towards the gash in Hezzi's midsection.

She felt the cut from one end to the other, tracing it with the palm of her hand, then, to everyone's surprise (especially Hezzi's), she stuck her finger inside the wound.

Hezzi screamed bloody murder, but by some miracle he managed to stay still through it all.

"It's deep," she said, pulling her finger out. "Knife? Axe?"

"Spearhead," Ander corrected her. "Heated in the fire."

"That explains why he's not dead yet. The cut's been partially sealed by the heat, but I'll have to stop the bleeding right away. I have all the tools in my tent."

"I'll carry him!" Ander said, reaching out.

"No! You will stay here and you will die!" Mother - no, Shekka screamed, her voice a high-pitched shriek that froze Ander to his core. "Hezzi might be a fool, but he's the only son I have left and I'll be damned if you end up killing him, too!"

Ander suspected it to be true, but to hear her actually say it to his face... that she really wanted him dead...

"I'm not the one who did this, it was them!" Ander shouted, sweeping his arm across the silent masses. "All of them! I took the blame for killing Banno, but I will not take the blame for this!"

"Who will help me carry my son?" Shekka addressed the crowd, her eyes looking through everything, as usual, focussed on some point far away that didn't exist, much like Ander right now. At least to her.

"I'll do it!" Danado said, hurrying forward.

It was with gratitude that Ander watched him carefully lift Hezzi in his arms, a trickle of blood dripping down to the ground in a steady pitter-patter.

"Take him to my tent," Shekka said. "And don't bother with the skull thing, we don't have enough time."

"Yes, Kai," he said, quickly moving through the gap the crowd had made for him, but clearly taking great care not to jostle Hezzi too much on the way. Maybe he was trying to make up for his inability to persuade the others to leave him alone.

Shekka followed after him, not looking back once at the son she was leaving behind.

But of course, she only had one son left, didn't she?

"Wow, what an idiot, charging at me like that," Garten chuckled, making Ander's blood boil. "Hey, Ander! Did you see the way he curled his tail between his legs? How pitiful!"

Hezzi's blood was already growing cold beneath his feet, exactly the opposite of what was happening inside him at this very moment.

"And the way he mewled! By the Cora, actual mewling, just like the brat he really is!"

"Shut up..." Ander said, curling his fingers into fists, his claws digging into the soft meat of his palms, something he hasn't done for quite a while.

"Hard to believe that puny runt was related to Banno in any way, much less his brother!"

"Shut up..." That oh-so-familiar sting repeated itself eight times in his palms as his claws pierced the skin one after the other. With his fingertips warm and sticky, he turned around to face Garten, the one who had dared to hurt his little brother.

"Hey, Ander! Take a look at this!" Garten held the spear out to him, just out of reach, the tip bouncing up and down in a teasing rhythm. "Hezzi's blood actually baked onto the metal! Isn't that something?"

He was right. There was a blackish crust of blood surrounding its surface, dry and peeling, dotted with little charred hairs. The thicker spots were still boiling, undulating with dozens of tiny bubbles, steam lightly rising from them in dark tendrils. Through the cracks he could see that the spearhead was still glowing, but not as brightly as before.

"Of course, I'm sure you're used to seeing brothers' blood by now, aren't you Ander? After all, your hands are practically_soaked_ in it."

Anger. It welled up inside of him, white-hot and burning, flowing through every aspect of his being. It made him feel...

"Maybe you should've -"

... good.

Ander reached out and grabbed the spearhead, still blazingly hot. It burned into his palm like a brand, making a noise like a freshly caught fish simmering over an open fire, but Ander didn't care about that.

"What the hell are you -!?" Garten began, but Ander didn't let him get any further.

"I'LL KILL YOU!!!" All Ander wanted to do was hurt, and he didn't care how much pain he had to endure in exchange. He pulled as hard as he could, the smell of burning fur rife in the air, nearly wrenching the spear right out of Garten's hands.

"You crazy bastard!" Garten yelled, braking with his feet. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

Ander quickly stepped forward and grabbed hold of the wooden shaft with both hands and pinned the head underneath his armpit. It only took a second for the metal to burn through his fur and sear his flesh, but Garten wouldn't be able to stab him like this. Pulling with all their might, Ander and Garten fought for control of the spear, locked together in a deadly tug of war, the crowd cheering and stomping their feet.

Although he was caught in the red mists of rage, Ander knew he couldn't keep this up. He might be slightly bigger than Garten, but he was also injured, and Garten has been training for this kind of thing his whole life. If he didn't do something soon, the spear would be ripped from his grasp and he'd be run through like a wild boar.

Perhaps sensing this, Garten smile slowly resurfaced. "Give it up, Ander! I'm stronger than you, and you know it!" He tugged on his end of the spear, digging in with his feet.

Ander circled around in an arc, fighting to keep hold of his end, but Garten kept pace easily, slowly turning on the spot.

"Did you know, Ander? A torch flickers most violently just before it dies, and that's what you're doing right now."

Ander kept strafing around Garten, holding onto the spear, moving like a spoke in one of Old Jonathan's wagon wheels. The angle had to be perfect. Just a little bit more...

"You may not want to acknowledge it, but deep down, you know it's true. You're about to die, Ander. You're just a torch burning through its last strip of rags." He pulled hard, nearly tearing it from Ander's grasp.

The pain underneath his arm was becoming unbearable. He could feel the spearhead shifting, burning his skin every time Garten tried to jerk it away from him, but that was fine. He was in position now. He waited for the perfect moment, that instant just before Garten pulled back...

"This is for Hezzi, you sick son of a bitch!" Ander let go of the spear and Garten staggered backwards, a euphoric look of triumph on his face.

That was until he felt the heat intensify against his back and saw the embers float by his eyes, surrounded in an orange glow.

Ander savoured the moment... much like Banno probably would have. The thought that he was becoming more like Banno didn't even scare him. The look in Garten's eyes as he realized what was about to happen... absolutely terrified.

He liked seeing that look. It just felt so right.

Not so different... after all...

Garten didn't even have enough time to cry out before he crashed into the bonfire. Burning logs crumbled down on top of him, endless chunks of glowing red-hot coals cascaded down on him in an avalanche of flame. It was as if the fire was a living thing, and it had seized this gift with voracious hunger, tasting it... licking it... and finding it not just good, but delicious.

Only then did the screaming begin.


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