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Ivaylis

Silverlight clattered to the stone floor with a loud echoing ring, coming to rest in the exact place the shadowy rift had just been. Within a blink, the abyss swallowed both the masked man, and Rekkdyr, before leaving the room silent.

The waves of agony had instantly ceased, the runes of Silvernight dimmed, before fading altogether.

I forced myself up, panting heavily still, trying to shake off the memory of pain and darkness.

I flinched as the large white wolf bounded past me, leaping to the prone form of Eluniss, who gave a small moan.

He cried out in a strange, guttural voice which was clearly a language.

“Kvikr!” he said, emitting a silvery blue glow from his mouth. The light fell into the wound, which already looked blackened with rot. The spell seemed to have no effect.

Eluniss’ eyes opened, revealing those silvery orbs, as they locked with the wolfs.

“Aatu. My son.” She whispered in common, raising her pale hand to run her fingers through the fur on his neck.

“It’s too late.” Her words chilled my spine. The wolf was her son?

“No” he said, this time in common.

“Kvikr.” He cast the druid spell again, but it still had no effect.

The wound was too great. A thing of dark magic. I remembered the shadow tendrils reaching forth from the dark bastard sword.

“I’m sorry. I tried.” The wolf was whining as only a canine could, though I suspect if he were human, tears would be rolling freely down his face.

She smiled up at him, fingers weakly taking up the feather fetish that was braided into his fur behind the ear.

“You found your path. Good. I always knew you’d be great.” She whispered, voice fading, blood trickling black from her mouth, contrast to her white flesh.

“You’ll be okay, there’s help!” He cried.

“Kvikr!”

“Aatu. I’m sorry. I tried to find you. I couldn’t. I love you.” She said, drifting to the cold stone of the ground, eyes slowly closing.

“NO!” He roared, before growling in that other language.

“Kvikr!” He cried.

I glanced away, seeing Hestross had come too. He was also watching the scene as well, and was surprised to see moisture rolling down his face.

“Kvikr.” Another failed spell.

Riddaris rose by his brother, pulling himself to his feet. He turned to the wolf with a frown.

“Kvikr!”

“Aatu.” Ciara spoke, stepping beside the wolf, and cautiously placing her tiny hand on his flank.

“Kvikr!” He collapsed on the dead elf, chest heaving with silent sobs.

I forced myself to replay the last few moments in my head. Of when Eluniss had been stabbed. When Ciara and the wolf burst forth from nowhere, fighting him off, seeming to have him on the defensive. Damnit! The shockwave that slammed into me, forcing me back, and finally, Rekkdyr, bursting from the shadows to drive his blade through the man’s back. They were both swallowed by that horrible gaping maw.

My eyes fell on Silvernight, now resting against the stone.

I pulled myself to my feet, limping over to the discarded blade. How had it not been lost as well?

A sudden roar echoed through the dungeons behind us, pulling me from my thoughts.

“We need to leave!” Hestross cried. He pulled Aklys and the Camden onto his back, nodding to his brother, who was gripping Skempta.

“Aatu, come!” the Halfling pleaded with the wolf.

He reluctantly rose from the elf, “Help me.” He pleaded, trying to hook his head under her corpse.

The roar echoed again, this time much closer. It was accompanied by two more this time. There was something familiar about the way it hissed. Hydra.

The wolf didn’t seem capable of getting enough leverage to slide under the corpse.

Ciara started to help. I rushed over, helping to settle the elf on the wolf’s back.

I glanced around, ensuring I didn’t miss anything. It was then that I noticed there was no sign of the Otter, Silence.

The group made their way for the exit, just as the first of three hydra heads snaked their way through the entrance. I gripped Silvernight in my hands, flee for the exit behind the others. I stopped long enough to pull the metal door closed behind us, before bursting from a small rocky tunnel into the cold night air.

Vailadriel

I could see the white sails of the ship as it pulled up to the harbor. My heart raced with anticipation.

Various creatures milled about on the dock below. A centaur dismounted, followed by what looked like Ciara O’Connor. They were back!

I rushed down the snowy hill at a full sprint, not even slowing when I hit the docks, almost sliding right off from the slush that had gathered.

My mother stepped off the ship, aided by uncle Livillios’ hand.

Her eyes met mine, and I could sense worry.

Behind her, Guardswoman Ivaylis stepped onto the dock, the large bastard sword Silvernight wrapped in a bundle of cloth and strapped to her back.

I halted instantly, eyes snapping to the remaining creatures on the ship. My heart was thudding, seeing no sign of the gnoll. Of Rekkdyr.

Those I did see wore the sign of heavy combat, with distant eyes, and slowly mending wounds.

My eyes returned to Ivaylis, searching her face. She frowned, tears rolling slowly down her face.

My heart sank deep into my stomach, and I could feel the world spin around me. I stumbled in place, feeling my knees meet painfully with wood.

People rushed about me but I could not register their words. I could barely tell my mother was pulling me into a hug.

My chest was wracked by heavy sobs, and my vision was blurred.

I gasped, trying to draw breath, when the floor was swept away, and I could feel arms carrying me from the cold, back up to the palace, I assumed. I didn’t matter. Nothing did. I could feel my heart beating, threatening to burst from the sheer amount of pain in my chest.

Camden

My head ached fiercely, my body refusing to move to my commands. I somehow managed to crack an eye, however, seeing the room spring to life all too suddenly.

I blinked against the sunlight, fighting to sit up in the large, feather stuffed bed. I used to like down feather beds. The comfort of sinking into the soft mattress. Now it just felt like I was sinking. Falling.

I could feel the bright sun threatening to slip away, to return to that dark, cold dungeon. I could almost hear Myr’s words in my head. That which of his, coming with her dark, twisted blood red smile.

I shook my head, forcing the memories away. No, this was no illusion. This was real. It had to be.

Fighting the sense of fear at the sensation, I glanced about the room. A fine wooden desk sat against one wall, marked in elegant curving and spiraling vines, leaves sprouting forth at key ornate places throughout.

The door had similar elegance, though it sat closed to the outside world. The glint of snow could just be made out through the window, which reflected the sunlight just right to catch me in the eyes.

I blinked again, turning to see a large black and white snow leopard stretched out beside me, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythmic sleep. A small grin split my face, erasing the past for just a moment. My hand fell on the cats head, gently caressing the animals left ear.

She purred, pushing closer to my side.

Camden. Aklys voice washed through my body, causing me to melt into the mattress once again.

The memories of darker times fell away and I was momentarily washed in the warmth of her husky voice.

“Aklys.” Tears swelled in my eyes, and despite the pain in my frail, starved body, I fought to pull her to me, which really was just me pulling myself closer to her.

Her warmth against my skin was all I could think of. That soft, silky fur, lined with more scars then I remembered.

I felt the moisture break free, and rush down my cheeks, as I buried my face in the animals scruff.

I missed you. Her words drew another sob from deep within my chest.

Aatu

The elves had been kind enough to build a pyre.

The cold snows drifted about in the wind, fresh flakes disappearing in my white coat.

A heavy hand ran into the fur at my side, brushing the small cut that was still on the mend. Infection had taken almost instantly from the man’s blade. I closed my eyes. It was why my mother succumbed.

“Thank you for coming.” I whispered.

Fornvarr stood beside me silently, hand resting on my side.

“I’m sorry.” He said, eyes never leaving the shrouded body on the pyre. It had yet to be lit.

“I was so close, Fornvarr.” I gave a low whine.

The entire journey back across the sea was a blur. I long blur. I remember just sitting on the deck of the elvish ship, beside my mother. Refusing to leave her side. Refusing to eat. To sleep.

Ciara had come a few times to offer me food, but I just ignored her.

I know she meant well. I did. So did the centaur, Hestross, who would come to sit beside me, saying nothing. He looked so close to speak on many occasions, but held his tongue.

His company was tolerable, though I would have preferred it if he were to just leave me alone.

Ciara’s companions, including her frail brother, the Naettura, and the elf all stood in silence. The orc that accompanied them had yet to regain consciousness.

I could feel all of their eyes shifting from me to the pyre where my mother lay. I wanted them to leave. I knew that sounded selfish.

They were outsiders, here, in this pack affair. I may have been in the forest beneath the elvish palace, on the northern coast beyond my home valley, but this was a pack affair.

My eyes opened again, falling on the pyre. They were here, because they felt sorrow. Just as me. I glanced over at the empty pyre beside that of my mothers. Two twin beds of timbers, set together to be set to fire.

The empty one was for their comrade, the gnoll. Rekkdyr, his name was. I could see a large breastplate resting atop it, the snow barely collecting to hide the reflection of silver moonlight in its surface.

I turned to the small elf girl who gripped a large torch. Her eyes were clenched tight, moisture rolling down her cheeks. She seemed so frail and tiny compared to the centaurs and elvish lords that stood around her.

The winds of winter gust about us, and my gaze returned to my mother.

The elves had sent word ahead of the ship, to the Circle of Autumn, to Fornvarr. He was already at Rainhaven when we arrived.

At his instruction, my mother’s pyre was built in the way of the druids. The other one was built, to honor the memory of the warrior gnoll with a just heart.

One of the elvish Lords, Aquilis, the one who resembled a snow elf, stepped forward.

“This night, we mourn the loss of two souls. Vastly different from each other in appearance and history, they came together in their final hours to face a great darkness. They stood at the gates of the shadowlands, and they did not fear. It was through the actions of the druidess Eluniss of the Frostfang pack, and the Noble Gnoll, Sir Rekkdyr of Rainhaven, that this world was not consumed in darkness.”

His words cut into my flesh like fire heated prods. I had tried. I was there.

“This world will suffer a great loss. That of two brave champions of good. One who brought people together, the other, who overcame great adversity, to win a title foreign to his kind.” The elf stepped back when he finished.

Fornvarr straightened beside me. “May your soul find peace in the Eternal Glade.” He whispered in druidic. He nodded to me.

I quaked as I stepped forward, slowly approaching the pyre.

“Mother,” I spoke in the tongue of the wolf, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there to protect the pack. I was taken, because I was a foolish pup. I’m sorry I could not save you.” I whined, almost noiselessly.

A gust of wind rustled the snow from the branches overhead, falling about me in a gentle cascade of white. With a deep breath, I spoke.

“Bolrun.” I whispered, flames catching on the base of the pyre, and quickly setting it ablaze. I forced myself to bath in the heat, feeling it’s intensity wash over me.

The young elf had approached the pyre that bore the empty breastplate. She outstretched her hand, whispering a spell of her own.

That pyre ignited to match my mothers.

I barely caught the girl speak, a muttered sob.

“I love you Rekkdyr.”