Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 136
136
Danado felt isolated, cut off, separate from everything happening around him, trapped inside his own bubble of space just outside the medical tent, unable to move, unable to get up, unable to do anything but sit here, watching Hell itself enveloping the entire world. Even time itself seemed to be on fire, melting and stretching from moment to moment like sticky ropes of rancid honey, with only the dull throb of faraway drums marking the passage of seconds. Without those drums, there was no time. Only horror.
Wolves and Foxes, so different from each other, and yet also the same, fleeing from a wall of flames with identical expressions of fear distorting their faces.
Pools of liquid fire spreading across the ground, consuming the carpet of dead leaves and pine needles of autumn. Clumps of snow, here and there, isolated, melting around the edges, hissing and spluttering. Smoke and ash, drifting through the air and mixing with the falling snowflakes, tinting everything in a grey, stormy haze that burned his eyes and nose.
Children, crying. Their voices too deep, slowed by the dripping, oozing mess time had become. Or maybe he was the one at fault. Maybe he was the one seeing all these horrors playing out at a fraction of their true speed. Maybe he was the one frozen in time. And why?
Because he understood. He understood it all. Even though he was trapped, even though he couldn't move from this spot, even though he was the most useless, most insignificant cripple in the entire world right now, he understood what was happening better than anyone here, and that terrified him. It was something that couldn't be explained, couldn't be learned. It could only be experienced, could only be felt, and he had gone through it all. He had lived it all. That was why he could understand what was happening from both sides, because he had been there. In some ways...
He was still there.
"Get the children to the centre! Hurry!" Bethany-Kai bellowed at the panicking masses, gesturing towards the medical tent. "Get them as far away from the fire as you can!"
And lying on the ground, just one Wolf among many, with bandages around his head and what seemed like a cobweb of black stitches all over his body...
Dorin.
Looking at that face for too long awoke something inside of him. It was like taking a thorn to an old wound and pressing the tip against the healing flesh, twisting it back and forth and back and forth, grinding it in, pressing harder and harder until it finally broke through, infecting the blood with dirt and poison once again.
He knew this feeling so well. It was the very same feeling that got Lana killed in the first place. The desire to walk over there on his crippled toes, grab a smoking stick off the ground and plunge it into Dorin's neck, pierce his flesh and stir it around until he woke from his slumber, gargling in the night, clawing at his spurting throat...
Danado closed his eyes and tried to push those thoughts away, but he couldn't, he just couldn't. The pain, the anger, the hatred. Trying to ignore them would do no good. He had to let them flow. He had to feel them again. He had to live them again. It was the only way to find the right answer. The only way to hear the screams for what they truly were.
Everything stopped. The shouts, the yells, the roaring of the flames. Even the dull red flickering behind his closed eyelids turned a uniform black. This was an infinite moment, just like the one that followed right after his sister bled out in his arms. How she had... faded. The awareness in her eyes, the warmth of her blood, even the twitching of the hilt sticking out of her chest. As the life drained from her heart, so too did the rage build in his own. In that infinite moment, he hadn't cared about the pain in his fingers and toes. He hadn't cared that he was just a nobody who used to slink around the village like some lowly rat and that Dorin was the leader of the warriors with years and years of training beneath his belt. He hadn't cared that the entire tribe was there, looking on in stunned silence. He hadn't cared that every painful step he took was taking him closer to his own death. In that moment he hadn't cared about anything other than locking his crippled hands around Dorin's throat and squeezing down hard, until the bones burst out of his stubby fingertips and crushed the life right out of him, just as that bastard had crushed the remainder of the days he would have had left to share with his sister.
Danado opened his eyes to the real world. Through the smoke and the flames, he saw those on the other side of the wall of fire, screaming into the inferno, ripping their hair out by the roots, clawing at their own faces, blood and tears streaming down their cheeks. They had lost sisters of their own. Brothers, mates, fathers, mothers, even children. They were in the exact same frame of mind as he was back then. It was a state of pure, animalistic hatred, devouring everything else; all logic, all reason, all thought, until there was nothing left but to strike out against those who had killed their friends, their family...
The very same ones who had saved all their lives.
It was crazy. It was insane. But it also made perfect sense.
He had the answer. It was inside him all along, ever since that terrible day his sister died in his arms. The true meaning behind the innumerable screams tearing through the storm.
Grief. It was grief. It may have been the hunger that brought them here, but it was grief keeping the fires lit. It was grief setting their blood to boil. It was grief tearing their hearts to shreds. It was grief, and only grief, fuelling these flames of insanity.
And it was spreading.
Layla was shepherding a small group of Wolves away from the fires, but it wasn't easy. Two of them were just children, barely old enough to hunt, and were clinging to her dress on either side, their faces all scrunched up with the immense effort required to not burst into tears.
Seeing this, Layla crouched down, put a hand on each of their heads (a heart-warming sight, especially considering she was nearly a head shorter than them in that position), and began to talk. Danado couldn't hear what she was saying, but he didn't need to. He could see it in the earnest way the boys were sniffling back their tears and nodding their heads. He could see it in the way the fear was slowly draining from their eyes. Even the older ones, who shouldn't be so easily swayed, were listening with rapt attention. But most of all, he could see it in her smile, spreading hope everywhere she went. But...
Could no one see how she was screaming on the inside?
No, of course not. To see the truth would be to lose their grasp on what little hope they had left. Seeing Layla, this frail, fragile little Fox, going around with a smile on her face despite the screams, despite the blood and pain, despite the flaming bursts of light and ice cold wind, filled them with hope.
It was a burden she had taken upon her shoulders because no one else could, exhibiting a strength unique to her. But all that weight... it was wearing her down. He could see it so plainly. That smile was warm and caring, but it didn't reach her eyes. They were red and puffy, not from the smoke, but because of all the tears she had so carefully hidden away. They kept shifting from side to side, not to watch out for danger, but because she couldn't look any of her charges directly in the eye, lest they realise their guardian was just as frightened as they were. Those were the eyes of someone just barely holding on, someone who desperately wanted to see her sister, someone on the verge of giving in to the insanity of grief.
Those were the eyes of someone who belonged on the other side of the wall of fire.
A flaming lantern suddenly crashed to the ground just a few strides away from where she was comforting the little ones, exploding into a bright plume of liquid fire. They screamed and tried to pull away, but she held them tight, whispering soft comforts in their ears and beaming at them with her hopeful smile, all while she was slowly tearing apart on the inside, her face reflected a thousand times over by the shards of broken glass lying strewn about her feet.
Without thinking, Danado tried to get up. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to hold her like she had held him. He wanted to tell her that everything would work out somehow. He wanted to be the one to give her a smile, a real smile, a smile that would fill her with hope, just like he had promised. He wanted to -
The moment his hand touched the ground, five sharp spikes of pain shot through his fingers. It felt as if his bones had turned into roots of iron, boring deep into his flesh. His arm gave way and he crashed into the dirt, stifling a scream into the crook of his elbow. Trembling from the shock, he held his hand up to his face, tears standing out in the corners of his eyes, and saw that the tips of his heavily bandaged fingers were turning a dark crimson.
Danado's face began to change. The corners of his mouth turned down. His lips peeled back into a snarl. The tears, which had been on the verge of falling for the longest time, finally spilled across his crinkled muzzle. He curled his shaking hand into a fist, wracked with pain, but before he could slam it down to the ground in a fit of anger and frustration at his own weakness, he saw something through the fine haze of smoke, something that gave him pause. Or rather, someone.
It was Nilia. She was out there among the defenders, her hands held up to shield her face against the blazing heat. She leapt forward, aiming for one of the gaps between the burning logs, but the next moment the open space filled up with a dozen snarling faces, snapping jaws ringed with teeth, eyes glowing like coals. She tried to fight her way through regardless, but was quickly forced to retreat from the swarm of hands reaching through the flames, grabbing at her like strangling vines, trying to pull her in.
She can't get through...
Nilia ran further down the wall of fire and tried to get through at the next gap, but it was no use. There was a group of ravenous Wolves at every seam, waiting for any victims to come jumping through, one by one. That was their whole plan. Build a wall. Leave some bottle necks open. Light the centre on fire and slaughter anyone who tries to escape. Nilia knew this, and still she was trying to break through, still she was trying to fight.
Because she wants to help Ander. Because they need to find Kiana.
Danado carefully propped himself up on his elbow, and in an instant, it was as if all the layers simply peeled back. He saw everything. He heard everything. He felt everything. He understood everything. More than he ever thought he could. More than he ever wanted to. It was more painful than having his claws carved out of his fingers and toes with a rusty old knife.
He saw Wolves struggling to help each other off the ground. He saw unconscious Wolves being slung over shoulders and hoisted onto backs, children being swept up by the arms of strangers so they wouldn't have to flee through fields of broken glass with their bare feet. He saw Foxes running from fire to fire, their arms laden with piles of snow and dirt. Foxes keeping a watchful eye on the sky, screaming out warnings whenever a bright orange ball of fire came sailing over the wall. So many voices overlapping with each other... so many voices... but not all of them loud.
From inside the medical tent at his back, through the membranous canvass skin, he could hear many whispers.
"Snap out of it, Nicky! Dad may have given us two options, but we both know that last one was complete and utter bull pies! It's gotta be both of us, damn it! That's the only way! So you better get up! If I can do it, so can you! Come on, we're identical in every way, for crying out loud! You're making me look bad, you handsome piece of horse crap!"
More voices. Farther. Deeper.
"I never thought I was going to die like this... killed by my own people..."
"You're not going to die. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not for another sixty winters."
"How could you know that?"
"Because I won't let you."
Yet deeper.
"We'll make it through this, Mat. By the time you open your eyes, it'll all be over. Your father will be back soon, and when he gets here, I'll tell him all about your lady friend, whether you want me to or not. He'll be so... so..."
Danado could actually see her, one hand running through her son's hair, the other held over her mouth to stifle a sob. There were no more words from her, but there was a song, an old song, sung by a different voice in a different tongue, a song he hadn't heard since he was a very small boy, wrapped together with his mother and sister in a big brown bear pelt, slowly being carried off to sleep by the music of the rain gently tapping against the walls of their tent.
Beneath the melody, barely loud enough to hear, was the sound of a crying child, muffled by something soft.
"Renna?"
Danado could see her, as if he were right there beside her. He could see her halfway sprawled across Hezzi's bed, hugging him so desperately, yet so delicately, crying into his chest. The light from outside was washing over her back in drab, muddy streaks of colour. Mellah was there, lightly rubbing her shoulder, whispering something too soft to hear.
And then there came a new voice, a familiar voice Danado didn't immediately recognise because it had changed so much. It was softer, kinder, choked with tears.
"This time... This time I'm here for you. This time I won't turn my back. I promise... This time... This time..."
Aisa.
Danado saw her fall down to her knees and break down crying, but he only heard a single sob before her voice, too, became muffled, just like her daughter's.
Maybe she had simply covered her mouth, but Danado knew that it wasn't so. Renna was hugging her. Embracing her. Comforting her. Being Renna, a ray of sunshine on this darkest night, when not even a single star could be seen.
Danado sat up, gritting his teeth against the pain, and looked at everything that was unfolding in this place, second by second, feeling like his head would burst with it all. Everywhere he looked he saw the same thing.
He saw a Wolf bend down and pick up two unconscious Foxes at once, carrying them against his sides like a pair of barrels.
He saw Bethany tying a long piece of rawhide around a bleeding Wolf's leg, all while shouting orders over her shoulder.
Everyone is working so hard... They're trying their very best to save their friends, their family, the ones they love...
He saw two brothers staggering away from the flames, holding and supporting each other at the same time. They both collapsed to the ground, hacking ropes of ash-coloured spit into the snow.
Everyone...
He saw a she-wolf hugging a screaming girl to her chest, rocking back and forth and crying into her hair. The both of them were covered in streaks of soot.
He saw a Fox shielding an injured vixen from the shrieking wind. Her hair whipped all around her face as he took off his winter coat and draped it over her shoulders.
Everywhere he looked, he saw the same thing in different forms, playing out over and over again.
They were trying to protect their love. It was as simple as that.
Danado looked to the wall of fire stretching up to the sky, and the capering, howling shadows beyond it, and what he saw there was no different.
Just as those inside the circle were fighting to protect their loved ones, so too were the attackers fighting to -
I was just like them. For a long time, it was the only thing that kept me going.
- protect the loved ones they had lost, even though it was impossible, even though it was already far too late. It was either fight, or die on the inside.
Just like Layla.
She was doing everything in her power to help, shielding the young ones from all the anger and hatred raining down from the sky.
Kiana's still out there.
Still smiling. Still smiling. Even though she was fading.
Her sister. Her big sister.
It was love. Plain and simple. The struggle to protect love, and the madness that comes with losing it.
It was all part of the same thing.
Danado held his hands up to his face, the fingers wrapped in layers upon layers of bandages, slowly turning bright red.
What was he doing? Why was he just sitting here when everyone else was fighting so hard? Why...
Why wasn't he keeping his promises?
Danado slowly curled his hand into a fist, feeling the pain grow from a dull throb to shrieking balls of agony in his fingertips. Blood welled up from between the bandages, scalding hot.
He knew what he had to do.
Danado put his hands down on the ground and carefully pulled his legs in underneath his body. Slowly, he started to adjust his weight, putting more and more of it on his feet. Already the pain was getting close to unbearable. It felt like there was a hot spike of lead inside each of his toes, and if he went any farther than this, they would simply burst right out of his skin in a shower of blood.
He took a deep breath. Then one more. Then one more. He bit his tongue against the pain...
I'm doing it, Lana. I'm keeping my promise.
... and stood up.
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