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Wolven Soul (Part 1)

Looking down, Lyke could see that much of the blood was washed from his fur by the overnight rains, leaving a pink stain in his off-white fur. The sun rose ahead of them, a little to the right, sending dappled light though the trees and morning mist. Crag's pace did not slow, and Illisha's limp body was still draped over his neck. Lyke knew this place. They were only a short ways from the rise in the mountain pass. From there they could see Racalli, the village Lyke had set out from. He was not without his suspicions, as the elders had made clear their fear of tainted magic. Lyke had no options available to him, as going on was folly in his condition, as well as Illisha's. Crag, while a stalwart and loyal beast, would falter just the same without rest. Even so, he could not see how they could turn them down in their condition, as well as the services he had already rendered to them.

The rise was mounted with Crag's lumbering gait. Lyke squinted against the sun to make out the flicker of fires and smoke trails that betrayed the location of the small village of wolves. He leaned down, brushing a paw up and down Illisha's back, and whispered to Crag in a hoarse voice.

"Thank you Crag. Just a bit further." He reached out and scratched Crag's cheek. "You are the most noble of beasts on this earth, my friend." Crag growled in approval, raising his head back to meet Lyke's eyes. Then, he set off down the slope.

...

The woods parted, the trees becoming thinner. Soon, the clearing in which Racalli stood in became clear. The patched stone walls of their huts and the wide wooden walls of the long house came into view. Lyke spied movement between the huts, and saw a guardsman in his leather armor. The man bore a spear, and had brown fur. He looked up from the path ahead of him and saw the three of them trotting into town.

"Moon! It's Lyke! He's returned!" The man ran as fast as his bare footpaws could carry him, and Crag slowed to a walk. As the brown furred guard neared, he too slowed, his face falling. Lyke met his gaze with tired eyes.

"We need help..." He grunted, and tried to get off Crag. His right leg lifted to dismount, but seized up, freezing in place painfully. "Ah." He winced. He had not moved from Crag's back in hours. The lack of motion must have hardened his piteously overworked muscles. With this, Lyke fell off Crag's back, falling to the earth with a thud.

"Lyke!" The guard rushed to his aid, and took him up. The world spun as Lyke felt his weight being supported on the man's shoulder.

"I remember you, good man." Lyke whispered as his footpaws struggled to find purchase on the flat soil. By now, several other men of the village had come to see what the commotion was. Some looked on in wonder, but a few warriors came to help Illisha off of Crag.

"He's brought the girl back!" One barked, hoisting her over his shoulder. Lyke called back.

"She stays with me." He would have barked those words right back, but he could not muster it. The brown furred warrior reassured him.

"It's alright. She will be with you. Keep your feet, and we'll find a place to set you down. Someone fetch some food and drink for him! Call the elders to heal his wounds!"

Crag followed close behind, and soon they were laid down in the stables. Lyke's head rested back on a pile of hay, and there he melted into it. Ilisha rested beside him, her eyes flickering, struggling to keep awake. Objects faded in and out of focus, and his surroundings got darker. Soon enough, someone came in with a pail of water and a plate of fruits and dried meat. As he was forced to drink, he regained some of his bearings.

"Oh... that's good." He slurped at the cup of water with desire, and the feeling of the liquid cleansing his dry throat was almost enough to lull him to sleep.

"Have something to eat, sir." Someone said. He smelled meat, and ate it. As soon as it's taste hit his tongue, he wretched. He kept his stomach, and asked for it again. This time, after some hesitation on his caretaker's part, he swallowed it, immediately making him feel hungrier than before. Someone else entered and began to feed Ilisha. She seemed to take her food better. Crag was given a pail of water to himself. In some ways, Lyke felt like a king in his half-conscious state. He relaxed against the hay and let himself go once more. He hadn't died on the journey back, so he could afford this. The black took him once more. This time, it was comfortable, and reassuring. He had done it.

...

A firm paw upon his shoulder woke him.

"Sir Lyke. Are you well enough to stand?" Lyke blinked the heaviness out of his eyes. His whole body shuddered when he discovered that he merely felt exhausted, not spent, and his muscles only felt sprained, not useless. With a glance to his right, he saw Ilisha was still asleep. His mind flashed back to her silhouette against the pillar of light, blood issuing from her mouth. In fact, he could still see some pink stains in her fur were she had laid in her own fluids.

"I don't know. Ahem!" He cleared his throat, hacking up phlegm upon the floor. "Ah... Forgive me. Please, help me up." Lyke extended a paw up to the man, the same brown furred guardsman. The man took it, and pulled Lyke to his paws. Aching pains shot down his legs, and though his sides, but he could right himself. Though his head spun, it did not keep him down. He was up. A smile crossed Lyke's muzzle, but it quickly faded when he found himself naked.

"Where are my straps? My weapons?" He felt his back to find nothing but fur. The guard looked apologetic.

"Forgive me, sir. They were all taken from you. The elders said you had stolen an artifact form the castle of the ancients. They remember how courageous and kind you were, and decided, in their wisdom, to give you a chance to explain yourself, and tell your tale." Lyke breathed a sigh.

"I see. Is that where we are going?" The guard nodded, and took his place beside his charge. Lyke let him support his weight.

"I never got your name, did I?"

"No, you never did. It's Jorn."

"Well met, Jorn." The two worked to drag Lyke to the Elder's yurt.

After getting a chance to test his legs, Lyke felt he should walk for himself. With stif, limping steps he shuffled into the Elder's yurt on his own paws. Inside, the same three elderly wolves sat on the same three cushions. The fire was burnt low, and the red guest rug was empty. The six guards let him pass, and he limped up to stand on the rug.

"Greetings." Lyke grunted. He lowered himself down onto the rug, but quickly found that he no longer had the flexibility to sit cross-legged. While the elders and guards watched in silence, he shifted his position, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them there, his tail flicking behind him.

"You have returned, Lyke. We feared you dead." The center elder said. The other two, it seemed, never spoke.

"Indeed, although I was sorely beaten by my journey. Never the less, I was successful. I have reclaimed Ilisha, and wrested her from the clutches of evil. I have done all I set out to do. I appreciate your village's support so much. I cannot begin to thank you for all you've done." Lyke bowed his head. The elders all looked at each other, and the center one took out a long bundle of cloth. He unwrapped it, and showed Lyke the demon's blade: Wolfbane. The elder held it though the cloth to avoid touching it.

"My guards say you entered the village with this hung at your side. they say it doesn't hurt you. Are either of these things so?" Lyke's eyes shifted about the yurt. This meeting would not be all cheer and thanks giving, he feared.

"Ah. I suppose there is no use in hiding the truth. I took that blade from the hands of a demon I slew. A noble prize, I thought. I tasted its fell magic first hand, and it did hurt me then. Since I killed the demon though, it's magic has not harmed me. I'm not exactly sure why." Again the elders looked at one another, the feathers and beads hanging from their fur and ears swaying.

"You know, of course, that this object is forged of great evil, and still holds much malice within it. Why would you risk bringing it to our village? If you wished to thank us for what we have done, you would not have done so." Lyke nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I was on the very brink of death. It did not occur to me to leave it behind. Besides, such an object would be priceless in the southlands." He was immediately answered.

"Then perhaps you should take it there." The elder barked curtly, and threw the sword at Lyke's paws. It slipped from the cloth and the flat of the blade rested on his shin. Lyke felt no ill effects from it. The guards gasped and whispered to themselves.

"it does not harm him."

"Wolfbane, eh? Then Lyke is no wolf. Not anymore." The elder scowled down at the blade. Lyke brushed it off himself, letting it rest before him.

"We know well what the sword does, and how it was forged. Lyke, you have more to answer for than just this. We warned you also, to slay your mate before returning to this village. You have not done this. Therefore, she must not be tainted. If she was, surely you would have done the right thing, yes?" The elder's eyes pierced Lyke with their stare. His old eyes widened to such intensity, that Lyke felt under scrutiny from the inside.

"Ilisha is not tainted. I saved her form damnation. She is pure, I swear it." The scrutiny continued for some time after before the elder spoke again.

"Your word will be trusted to a certain extent. She will be watched, so long as she is in the village. Any signs of the taint, and we may be forced to take matters into our own paws. You will be expected to not interfere in this, or else you will be protecting a tainted soul, and thus be just as guilty. You already press your luck with this sword. Do not do so with your mate. I warn you, keep her well away from our people."

"I wi-"

"We also request that you move on from here this time tomorrow, at the latest. We are not so heartless to ignore your obvious pain, and shining courage, but your foolhardiness has cost you dearly. We will not shoulder that blame onto us. Do you understand?" Lyke could scarcely believe what he was hearing.

"Tomorrow? Elder, you may not understand the extent of my wounds and sheer exhaustion. I was at death's door no more than a score of hours past, and you would have me travel the wilds once more? I would be better suited to carve my way through the warriors of this village than attempt that." Lyke felt a rise of hate inside his chest. It was an annoyance at the elders, and the blind obedience of the village wolves. Suddenly, the thought of hacking his way though some of these guards seemed like a real possibility. Perhaps he would even hold the elders for ransom to gain some supplies. With the power of Wolfbane, it wasn't impossible. A mere touch could break the skin of a wolf. The elders cut off his dark fantasies.

"We would have no qualms with sending you out at that time. Forgive us, Lyke, but it shall be done. As for carving your way through our warriors, well... I seriously doubt your ability to do so, in your state. If you wish to leave earlier, feel free. No one will stop you." Lyke almost growled, but kept it in his chest.

"When I came in here..." He said though bared teeth. "I was ready to thank you for all you had done for me, and state that I owed you a favor. Now, I don't owe you anything. I will take the aid you will offer me until tomorrow, and I will leave as you have bidden me. Know that it was your decision to make us enemies, not mine." As Lyke made to stand, taking up Wolfbane, the elder spoke again, shaking his head.

"Brutish, misguided child. Your heart has grown dark. It is you who has changed his ways. You have become intimate with evil, and you shall never be the same. Be gone from my sight at once." The elder waved a dismissive paw, shooing Lyke out the door. The guards clutched to their spears. Lyke held Wolfbane close as he left.

As he reentered the stables, he saw that Ilisha was awake and sitting up, stroking Crag's mane with an absent minded paw. He jogged up to her, straining several muscles in his legs. But so happy he was, he didn't mind. He had suffered enough on her account. This was nothing.

"Illisha, my love! You're awake!" She looked up at his voice. As he neared, and stopped before her, he saw her eyes. They were wide, and staring, looking at nothing in particular. When she spoke, they did not move at all. She did not look him in the eye, but merely stared in his general direction.

"Lyke! Come here and hold me, sweet. I cannot see you." Her paws stretched out, reaching into space too far to the right. Lyke breathed a heavy sigh, and lowered himself down to her.

"I'm here, moon." He licked her cheek, and kissed her. "Oh... I fought so hard for you, Ilisha. So hard..." A tear welled in Lyke's eye, made worse with the weight of their impending eviction ahead of them. He would have to tell her.

"I know you did. You are so strong, Lyke. Your soul burns so bright. I know it does." Lyke's mind flew back to the demon saying much the same.

"Ilisha... The elders..." She stopped caressing him, and tilted her head as if to look at him.

"What? What did they say?" He saw worry in her eyes.

"You must answer this truthfully. I know we have not had much of a chance to speak since we escaped, but... I must know if you are tainted or not. I remember you said that you felt the magic move inside you, and you were able to make the pillar shine. To me, that sounds like..." His gaze shifted downwards, afraid to hear it from her own mouth. He was sure of the answer.

"Oh, sweet." She touched his face after feeling up his shoulder. "I cannot be a burden to you. These villagers are out for blood, aren't they? They are afraid. I am too. I just..." She made two fists in front of her, clenching her paws tight, her muzzle contorting into a grimace. "I can't control it, Lyke! It's moving inside me, and it does what it wants! You wish to know if I'm tainted? I am, and badly, my darling."

Lyke closed his eyes and just held her close for a time, his ear to her breast, listening to her heart.

"Will you kill me?" Ilisha whispered in his other ear. Lyke moved his muzzle up to hers, and looked into her dead eyes.

"I'd rather die than kill you. After what we both went through to return to one another, it's impossible to comprehend letting any harm come to you." Ilisha broke away, turning her head down.

"What did the elders say, Lyke?" He withdrew, sitting on his heels.

"They are giving us one day. Then we will be made to leave." She sighed.

"So... do they know?"

"About what?"

"About... me." Lyke shook his head.

"I don't think so, but they are very suspicious. I told them we would comply, but made sure to let them know how cruel they were."

"Do not make enemies, Lyke. It will do nether us or them any good." Lyke sat back down next to her.

"You're right. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. It's just the shame of it; the ungratefulness. You know we will barely make it back home, if we do at all."

"I know." There was a silence for a time. Lyke felt good after getting up and walking, but he no longer trusted Ilisha alone.

"I'm sure we will manage, between the three of us." Lyke commented, reaching over to give Crag a scratch under his broad chin. "Do you feel like going back to sleep, sweet?" He looked over, and saw her eyes closed, her head supported against the hay, and her paws curled up underneath her. Lyke smiled, and nestled down, ready to sleep again himself.

His dreams were gnarled and disjointed. Colors popped and faded in and out. He saw wolves he had never met walk past him on a busy street. Suddenly, he was fighting the stone minotaur once more. This time, he was attempting to go sword to sword with it. Its giant blade came crashing down on him, and flattened him to the stone. He had failed. He would never find Ilisha now. A phantom pain sprung up in his legs and his stomach, and he clutched his sides in despair. The minotaur stomped down one foot very close to him, and he found himself spinning away though the dark. He was waking up, but it was happening so slowly. He wanted to wake up, but it was hard. His body was so weary, and his eyes so heavy. With great strain, he forced his eyes open, looking out across the darkened stables into the moonlit path and huts beyond.

After blinking several times, he was able to keep himself awake enough to get his bearings. It was night. Lyke looked over to check on Ilisha, and found her exactly as she had been. Crag, however, was gone. Perhaps out hunting, or simply walking the night, stretching his muscles. That wasn't a bad idea.

As he laid there and contemplated going out, he heard a bump in the dark, followed by a shuffle. Just a horse. They are creatures too. They make noise. Calm yourself. Even so, he felt as though he should remain still. He squinted into the darkened hall, out into the moonlight. Lyke looked up at the ceiling, and noticed some reflections. Flecks and patterns of reflected moonlight hung on the wooden rafters. As he focused on one, it moved down and out of sight. At that very moment, another, softer sound came from the hall. It was the ever so gentle brush of pressure being placed on the hay strewn floorboards.

There! A dark shape crouched against the stall door on the right. Lyke's heart jumped, and began to pound in his chest. He wondered frantically if it had seen him looking around or not. The dark was thick, but as Lyke stared down the shape, he could swear it was doing the same to him. His right paw tensed for action, making himself mentally ready to spring for Wolfbane, and strike out.

It moved, so, so slowly towards him. Lyke stayed as still as possible until he was sure the thing was at an optimal distance. With a slight hesitation, the shape made to cross over to the other side of the hall.

Lyke's paw flew to the hilt of Wolfbane, and he sprung up from the hay in one lunging motion. His sword arm rose to bring the enchanted stone blade down upon the shape. Lyke heard a yip of surprise just before he bent his knees into a heavy blow downwards on his crouching adversary. The blade felt resistance, and the runes near the place of impact glowed a sickly green. After a yelp of pain, the shape shrank backwards, scrambling to get away. In the light of the runes, Lyke could see it was a wolf dressed in black leathers. It bore a knife in one paw, but it wasn't making any move to use it now. The blow had caught it in the side, and carved down to its right leg. With the power of Wolfbane, such a vicious, scrapping wound was made easy. Lyke roared and stepped forward for another blow. The would-be assassin picked himself up on a wobbly leg, and raised his knife in defense. Curving his stroke down, Lyke made a broad arc and scooped under his opponents left leg. He hardly needed to drag the blade though the tendons to sever them.

With an anguished howl, the assassin fell upon Lyke, its knife flashing out in the light of the runes, now brighter with the gift of more blood. Lyke caught his wrist, but the assassin had gotten in close, wrapping Lyke's sword arm in his left. Now, they struggled against each other, the assassin trying to push and twist his knife down into Lyke's throat, and Lyke desperately working against his stiff muscles to work away from his opponents grip, and dig wolfbane up into it's gut.

"Lyke! What's wrong?" Ilisha had awoken. Lyke surged against his assailant with redoubled force, driving him a pace back, onto his left, more injured leg.

"Give up and flee." Lyke growled into the wolf's ear. He wrapped one footpaw around his opponents right leg, and swept it with a backward motion, whilst pushing forward. The assassin was sent tumbling backward with a thud onto the floorboards. This time, it looked like he could barely stand back up. His legs would never be the same.

"You will receive the justice you deserve, demons!" He whimpered, dragging himself backward out into the moonlight. He tried to stand several times, only to find that his left leg would give under any strain.

A thunder of paw-falls echoed out beyond the village to the left. Crag burst from the trees in a full sprint. Lyke hobbled outside to meet him, as Ilisha dragged herself to her paws. It looked like Crag was headed straight for the incapacitated assassin.

"No Crag! I've dealt with him, leave it!" Crag growled and slowed his pace. His massive muscles rippled as he came to a stop by Lyke's side. "Good." Lyke assured him. "Now, stay here and guard Ilisha with your life. I'm going to collect some things for the trip back, then we'll be off. Got that?" Crag huffed and nodded in assent, pacing back and forth at the stable entrance. Already shouts and barks could be heard over the rooftops of the village. They wouldn't have long.

Lyke took up Wolfbane, it's runes still glowing, and jogged around the back of the stables, making his way back to the elder's yurt. His body would not allow him to run fully, but it would suffice for now. His ears swiveled to hear the sounds of wolves exiting their huts and exclaiming to each other.

He passed the longhouse on his way there. There were two windows on the back end of the great wooden building. Lyke thought he could reach one if he needed anything from inside, and had time upon returning form the elder's yurt.

Soon enough, the silhouette of the yurt came into view around the corner of the longhouse. Lyke had never approached it from this side before. He didn't even know if it had a back entrance. Stepping softly, he padded up to the back of the yurt, and felt around with his free paw, using the light of the runes to guile him. It seemed there was no entrance, and he didn't feel like hacking though the cloth.

Trying to keep the runes out of sight behind his body, Lyke skirted around the edge of the yurt to the front side, now exposed to the main path though the village. He could see guards walking and barking with torches lit down near the stables, and many a common wolf milled around the perimeter of the scene to see what the commotion was about. It looked like a couple torch bearing guards were coming his way, most likely to tell the elders what has transpired.

His curiosity sated, Lyke dipped under the flap and entered the yurt, finding himself in the familiar room inside. It was dark, but the light of the runes revealed that the elders did not sit upon their cushions at this late hour. The room was empty, but a secondary flap behind the cushions lead further on into the rest of the yurt.

Lyke looked around for any sign of his Violin, remaining rations, or any useful items of theirs he could steal. Seeing little of use, this being mainly a meeting chamber, he decided to sneak up to the interior flap before the guards came in, as they would likely see him leave if he exited now. Padding over the cushions, he ventured into an area that was forbidden to the other wolves. With the tip of Wolfbane, he drew back the flap, and peaked inside.

The elders slept in wooden beds, all three pushed up together to make one bigger surface. Many odd bangles and baubles hung on racks and shelves around this room: bundles of exotic feathers, vials of powder and oils, drying herbs, and ceremonial daggers.

The elder sleeping in the left bed stirred, and Lyke sidestepped into the room to the right. Scanning the shelves, he was surprised to see his belts bundled up in a corner, as well as his violin and bow resting on them. These he took up and began to don hastily, wrapping his belts around him. As he buckled them into place and hung his violin into its rightful position, he spied Crag's saddlebags. Snatching them up and opening them, he discovered they still had a day left of hardtack and dried fruits in it.

Taking one last look around, he picked up a ceremonial dagger, and a bundle of herbs and stuffed them into the bag. Then, the outside flap opened, and light spilled into the first room.

"Honorable elders! Lyke has wounded the man you sent with Wolfbane! They are holed up in the stables! Orders, please!" Lyke ducked down beside the right bed as all the elders began to rise at once. As the elder next to Lyke rose, and the horror crossed his face as he recognized him, Lyke sprang up and took the old man by the throat in the crook of his left arm. The other two scrambled out of bed, and the center one moaned in fright.

"Lyke! What is the meaning of this!" He called. Lyke took up another ceremonial dagger from the shelf behind him, and struck it down with a wet thump into the elder's thigh. The old man opened his muzzle in a howl of pain, but no sound came out but a guttural sigh. The guards called once more.

"He's there with you! Shall we come to aid you, masters?!" Lyke called back, looking directly at the speaking elder whilst gouging the knife deeper into his hostage.

"I've got one at my mercy! I wouldn't suggest trying anything. This knife could easily get reinserted someplace more lethal!" He began stabbing at the back of the yurt, opening an escape hole with Wolfbane. The main elder opened his muzzle to speak, but Lyke cut him off. "None of that! You'll stay right there, and be silent, or you'll lose your friend!" The guards called in again.

"Forgive us, be we must enter!" Lyke hacked at the cloth savagely, opening it further. He shoved his elderly hostage onto his bed, and ducked under, out into the dark once more.

Now that he was out, his paws found plenty of inspiration to break into a limping run. No time for anything else now. He crossed behind the longhouse, and up to the stables. A small crowd was forming outside. Torches burned in many of their paws. Lyke herd the growling of Crag above the chatter. He put his back to the side of the building and edged closer to the front. He would not have much time, as the guards would soon return to tell the crowd what he had done. Then there would be no mercy.

Lyke bolted around the edge of the building, shoving aside a couple wolves in his way.

"There he is!" One of the guards shouted. Lyke flew past Crag, still maintaining his guard at the front door.

"Ilisha! Come quickly!" He saw her, already on her paws, but leaning hevily on a stall door.

"Lyke! Help!" She stretched out her paws for him to take, and he lead her outside.

"Crag! Up!" Lyke practically dragged Ilisha onto Crag's back, and mounted himself, drawing Wolfbane once more. "Away Crag, to the South back home as fast as you can!" As Crag's muscles propelled him towards the crowd, Lyke called to them. "Away, or taste Wolfbane!" He was happy to give them the demon they expected if it meant he was getting out of this. He swung the blade wildly in the air about him as Crag broke through the line of commoners. They scattered in fear, howling curses in his wake, and calling for deliverance from the moonlit sky.

In a matter of moments, the three of them were out in a silence of the night wood. The wind and branches rushed past as Crag made for the next mountain chain. The fires of the village faded though the trees, and out of sight. Lyke hugged Ilisha close.

"What happened, Lyke?" She whined. He stroked her head.

"They wanted us out sooner, it seems. I did the best I could... Don't worry." A flash of stubbornness rose in him much the same as he felt in the castle. "We will make it back home, my dear. You will be protected. We've been though far too much to fail now." She was silent for a time, giving them the opportunity to listen to the sounds of night.

"I can only try not to be a burden." She finally responded.