Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

‘Thenakulus sat in the large chair in the throne room. The room was dark, and the air was damp. The high windows were draped in red, and the candles sat burning on their stands.

He sat there, drumming his fingers on the chair's arm. Where is he? Hasn't he gotten any information yet? As if on cue, a short man emerged from the shadows. He wore a blue long-sleeved shirt and leggings, and had a short-sleeved white cotton shirt on over. His legs were covered in bandages, just for the look, and he wore simple blue boots that came up to the ankle. His blonde hair was cut short, to keep it out of his long, thin face.

"Sire..." he started softly. Thenakulus turned his head toward him, startled slightly by his sudden appearance. "Shrike...there you are. I was just wondering about you... Have you any information?" he said calmly, masking the anger in his voice. He continued to drum his fingers out of pure boredom.

Shrike stood, not moving, his hands held behind his back. "No, not yet sir..." he said cautiously, for no matter how well his king hid his emotions, Shrike could sense it. After all, he was trained to. Thenakulus snorted, looking away. "I will not tolerate that... There was someone who survived that night! That would be the princess, for her body was never found. Fifteen years I have given you to find her, FIFTEEN YEARS! And you can't find one bloody piece of info!" Shrike didn't move.

"Sir, it seems that Miss Kamira has become a master at the stealth arts." Thenakulus looked back to him. "I DON'T CARE!" he yelled back at the man. Shrike only shifted his stance slightly in response. "GO! I don't want to see you back until you have information...or better yet, the girl." he told him waving him away. Shrike nodded in response and walked back into the shadows and out of the room.

He reappeared outside, walking down the hallway toward the castle front. He passed the throne room doors, where a maid stopped him. "Master Shrike...Are you okay? I heard him yelling at you..." Shrike looked to her and replied stoically. "He's just in a bad mood..." The maid furrowed her eyebrows in anger. "Well, it was rude. Honestly I'm amazed you didn't lose your temper and yell back." Shrike smiled at her. "Well, I only do what I was trained to do...and keeping my cool is one of the rules..." he said to her, before walking off to find the Princess. I'm sorry princess, but I have to find you...my life is on the line... he thought sadly as he ran out into the night, not to be heard from in awhile.'

‘Aleck had seen Ava shift uncomfortably. He didn’t understand her hesitation. Was she afraid that he wouldn’t love her anymore, or that he’s be disappointed or something? He shook his head at the thought. How absurd! He wanted nothing more than to raise a family with her, to have little miniatures of themselves running around and tackling each other. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and rubbing at his brow.

Aleck loved his wife, but sometimes he thought that she was more trouble than she was worth.

No. How dare he think that! He immediately took that thought back.

Aleck would give his life twenty times over if it meant saving her.

If he had been told years ago that he would meet a woman that would make him feel like that, he would laughed at the thought of it. But now… most of his actions were made and swayed by her. Ava. His lover. His wife.

His everything.

But he would never admit it vocally to her.

He was a strong man, but when it came to matters of the heart, he had no courage, and when it came to matters of Ava, he was always reduced to a puddle of melted dog-demon. She was so powerful that even a glance his way could set him on fire, heart and body.

And that was probably the reason that she was pregnant.

He ran his hand down his face again.

He wanted children, he wanted them like nothing else, but so soon? And then it clicked. Perhaps this idea was the entire reason that Ava was so worried about telling him in the first place.

And then suddenly, it made sense.

She was probably a little overwhelmed. Being a man, Aleck would never experience childbirth (something that he was particularly pleased that he never would, on a side note), and he figured that maybe Ava was a little… terrified of it.

He bit his lip. Now he wasn’t so irritated, and felt like he owed her an apology for thinking like that. Not that she knew that he did in the first place. He turned to watch her and her sister embrace. He smiled.

It was a great change to see that smile on her face. Sadly, he and Hye Su still did not get along. The older woman thought that he was a cheating b*****d and a playboy. Apparently, years of devotion to only her little sister did not mean a thing.

“Ava,” he said gently, touching her arm. He threw an apologetic look to Hye Su. “Can I borrow you for just a moment? It’s kind of important…” He gently tugged at her arm. He’d much rather discuss this at that moment than later. He leaned closer to her ear. “Hye Su won’t leave; you’ll be back to her in five minutes, tops.”


-------


Fen the wolf had taken up residence in the corner of the Inn’s barn. There was a lovely little patch of hay that was kept there, and if proved to be more than a perfect bed. Not long after he had decided to stay, Kiyoko (who apparently had nothing better to do) had sewn him a large pillow to sleep on. She had called it a doggy bed and he wasn’t quite sure how to take it, even if she meant it affectionately. But he took it anyway, setting it up right next to the pile of hay. The goose down that it had been stuffed with sometimes made his nose twitch, but it was extremely comfortable, so he didn’t complain. In fact, he rather liked the device, and everyday he woke, he thanked Kiyoko silently for it.

Usually, Fen woke up at the crack of dawn. It was like he had an internal clock. At the first light, he’d be up and outside, sitting on the porch to watch it. Sometimes Marquin would join him if she couldn’t sleep. He had grown close to the girl. She brought him scraps from every meal and would rub his ears and scratch along his neck for hours upon end. While he didn’t like the idea of being a pet, he knew that Marquin liked his company for the intelligence of it. They often spoke of philosophy and math and sciences. She was a clever girl and as smart as a whip and he couldn’t help but admire her.

But this morning, he wasn’t sitting on the porch, watching the sun rise. In fact, he was still on his pad sleeping away, rolling over here and there in a rather restless sleep. His teeth bared and then his mouth closed and he let out a whimper, his brow crinkling. His dreams had him in a vice-like grip, and he twitched all over his pillow, trying to wake, but her couldn’t…

------

Fen ran as hard as he could and looked behind him, smirking when he saw that the others were far behind him. When it came to competition of speed, he was outmatched, even by his pack seniors. There was a growl and then the snapping of jaws, teeth mashing together in a steely grip. Fen jumped, the muscles of his haunches rippling as he dodged the jaws of one of pack mates. He growled back, but did not let up on his speed. He would win this race.

The pack pressed on hard, trailing each other through the forest and then the plains. Almost an hour of continual racing had gone by when Fen when Fen reached a halt. The others followed suit.

“What are you doing?” Bramble asked. His eyes narrowed viciously.

Fen stared out to where they were heading.

It was dead. All of the forest and trees and plains took an abrupt stop and then dove into nothing but a rocky desert. The sand wasn’t for miles, but the edge was still as barren as the rest of it. Fen looked at Bramble sardonically.

“I’m not going out there,” he said simply, readying himself to turn his tail and walk off.

“You are nothing but a chicken.”

Fen halted at that and turned back to him. “No, I’m smart. You can go and die out there. I prefer to stay where there is food and water.” He turned again to walk.

Bramble and the other wolves seethed, but turned away also, all knowing that not only had Fen won the race, and was also smarter and less brash than the rest of them. Fen smiled lightly at the thought, his gray tail dancing around behind him. He kept separate from the rest of his pack and walked off on his own. He had always been kind of a loner. There was a rustle in the shrubbery behind him and he smirked, turning around.

“So? What did you think?”

“You lost,” the voice said flatly. It was decidedly female with a rich and deep tone, and it belonged to a wolf only slightly smaller than him with a rich coat the color of the purest golden honey. But her fur was dull and lacked luster, and by her kinds standards, she was considered a dud when beauty was brought up. Fen on the other hand was strong and powerful, with large muscles and the shiniest coat of all. The females in his pack revered him as though he were a god. Well, most.

His face fell with mock hurt. “Rahna, you saw me win. I had them by their tails!”

“You forfeited,” she said, her bright eyes twinkling with mischief. If there was one person in the world that she hated, it was Fen. She couldn’t stand him, and he dutifully returned the favor. She thought that he was a pompous, arrogant a** and that she had each and every right to remind him of that every time they were near each other. In fact, she often went out of her way to tell him so. And Fen though that Rahna was a bland, snarky and sarcastic b***h of a wolf that needed to be taught a lesson and her place in the world. She treated everyone as though she were a queen when in his mind she was the farthest thing from it.

It was a match truly made in heaven.

“What do you speak of?” he asked. “I won fair and scare!”

“You stopped,” she told him. “The race was designed to end in the desert…”

“I didn’t know that at the time…” he muttered.

“You are a coward,” she said lowly.

“I’d rather live a coward than die out there valiant.”

She gave him a strange look. “There. You prove my point.”

“You aggravate me,” he said.

“And you I,” she replied. She turned the opposite way and began to walk off.

“You know they say that hate is the closest thing to love!” he shouted after her. He heard her snort.

“You wish.” And then she was gone. Fen snorted too and then walked in the opposite direction. She was mental. Every female wolf in their pact wanted to mate him, it was a bother. It was actually kind of refreshing to find one who didn’t. But it was sad that she hated her. And it was sad that he hated her back with an equal burning passion.

Eventually, a century would pass and war would come, scourging the land. Fen and Rahna would both have the chance to show their worth…

----

Alice had given up on waking Fen. No matter how much she prodded and poked, the old wolf wouldn’t budge. She sighed in a slightly irritated fashion and then finally giving up to find her husband right behind her, covering his mouth in an attempt to hide his laughter. Of course he had seen the entire thing and he found it rather funny seeing his wife beat up on his best friend, who in turn didn’t even budge.

“Dear,” he said to her, bending down to give her a quick kiss, “I’ll take care of it, okay?” Alice nodded but gave him a slightly embarrassed look as she walked out from the barn. Once alone, Zihark sighed, looking at Fen again. Had he not been breathing, the old man thought that Fen might have been dead. But he knew better. Carefully, he walked towards him. In his sleep, Fen was known to snap. Zihark presumed that it was an automatic reaction from his old war days. Zihark knew the action well. Sometimes, he himself had snapped attention at the slightest touch, scaring his wife in the middle of the night.

Fen had told Zihark of his old war days, centuries back. He had fought in one of the most epic and land shaping wars to ever had been fought on the continent. Zihark sighed. He had fought in even another himself. So much war in so little time. Gently, he placed his hand on Fen fuzzy shoulder and shook. Fen didn’t move.

“Fen,” he said, “You need to wake up…” He shook him a little harder. Fen twitched and then growled slightly in his sleep. The man shook him more and this time elicited a whimper from the creature. Fen whimpered a little more. Zihark shook him harder and finally the wolf woke, opening his eyes slowly. He sat up and looked around sluggishly.

“Fen,” Zihark said. “I need your help.”

The wolf looked to him, his eyes a little unfocused with sleep.

“What…”

“My grandson has been kidnapped.”

Unfocused eyes shifted to seriously alert ones as Fen snapped to attention. The hackles on his back rose as he let out a short growl. Zihark reached out and pressed his hand against him and the wolf calmed.

“It is the work of some sky pirates that go by the name the Hybrid Rampage. They aim for children that are half-demons or less.” Fen looked away and Zihark could feel his anger. “Fear not, we have a plan. We chase them.”

“How? We have not an airship,” Fen said, distracted. When distracted his manner of speaking changed. He seemed harder, older, and it showed.

“We have access to one though.” Fen looked to him and Zihark continued. “An old friend. I must contact and talk to her, and I want you to come with me. We leave now.”

Fen jumped up, ready to go. “You have me at your will. Let’s trek on?”

Zihark laughed lightly before his face turning grave. “We have to find Rither first, she’s the only person who knows where to find her…” He seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. He checked the tacking on Ghostrider and then pulled himself up.

“Her?”

“Thearah Evanroy.”

And then Fen smirked. This would be entertaining.

------

“Ava,” Aleck said softly. He had pulled her into a nook off of the street. It was a small alleyway but clean and well lighted. He could see her shifting uncomfortably and she nervously rubbed at her neck. “Isn’t there something you need to tell me?” She shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. He sighed.

“Look, I know that you are pregnant,” he suddenly said, tapping at his nose. She looked at him as horror etched across her face. She bit her lip and looked away, slightly ashamed. Seeing her like that killed him inside. Was she afraid of him? He pulled her into him, hugging her tightly against her chest. “Oh Ava, dear,” he said. He buried his nose into her hair as he held her. “I’m not mad at you, don’t think that.” He laughed lightly. “I can understand why you would hide it.”

“B-b-ut…” she started. He pulled away and pressed a finger against her lips.

“Shush,” he said lightly. He pulled his finger away and took her face between his hands, holding her cheeks softly. “I understand why you wouldn’t tell me.” She looked doubtful. “Hey, hey, let me tell you something,” he said. “I’m afraid. I’m terrified, you know that? When I questioned my father as to why you smelled funny, he merely, ‘Congrats, your going to be a father’. How do you think that I felt?

“I didn’t want children so soon, truth be told,” he told her, feeling a little guilty. “I wanted to have you as my own for as long as I could… but… well, we’re apparently more potent than we gave ourselves credit for…” He blushed a little.

“But a child… Ava, we made a child!” he exclaimed. “There is nothing to hide in that, you should have just told me from the beginning. Ava, I am happy.” He looked at her, really looked at her, his eyes telling her everything that she needed to know. They reflected his happiness, his love for her and everything that he knew. “We are going to start a family. This is only the beginning, Ava. This is the real start of our lives, of our future. I love you.”

He pressed his hand against her stomach. “And baby too, so next time, don’t hide it okay? I was really worried about you. You were a little strange and I thought that something was really wrong with you, don’t make me worry like that again.” He bent down to kiss her forehead.

“Now go back to your sister. We’ll announce the news at breakfast, if its okay with you.”

------

Odin pushed Evangeline away from him, protesting that she was hurting him. She commented back that he was being a baby and that he needed to be tougher.

“I am the baby,” he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. She laughed lightly and then pulled at him more, albeit it more gently. “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he said as she led him off to the stall she had been talking about.

It was a stall that specialized in items for the blind. They displayed walking canes, specialized weapons, and other trinkets and knick-knacks that were advertised as things to help the blind. Odin knew that most of them were crock. Spells and potions didn’t help a person gain their sight back, but he still delighted in looking at them. Once at the stand he let go of Evangeline.

He knew it was a bad idea, but he figured that she’d be fine. Their parents had always pressed on about how important it was to keep an eye on each other while out and about, and they always have abided by that rule, but Odin knew that Evangeline was smart and witty and that she was almost always careful. And so he let go of her hand and pulled away to look and feel at the new items that they had on display.

He knew that Evangeline would be alright. She always was.

--------

Marquin had left Jadon and Roslyn alone, opting instead to walk outside and sit on the porch. Aki followed after her. Maybe it was that they both felt uncomfortable being in the room with the crying couple. It wasn’t that Marquin didn’t want to be near them, no that wasn’t the case at all. She wanted nothing more than to console and comfort them, but she had found that in this certain situation, she had nothing that she could offer as advice. She and Aki had no children, nor did she know the pain of someone taken away from her.

She sighed and sat on the porch steps, resting her forehead against her knees. Aki sat beside her silently, and pulled her to his side, rubbing her back. He was always quiet man and this time, the silence was comforting.

“I want to help them,” she told her husband. “I want nothing more than to comfort them, but all I can do is griev for my nephew, their son. I can’t connect with them. It would be hypocritical to tell them that I know how they feel, because in reality, I don’t. But just standing there and watching them cry in horror doesn’t help either, in fact, if I were in their position, I would find it aggravating.”

She sighed and pulled her head up to look at Aki. “Will we have to deal with this?” she asked. “When we begin to raise a family and decide to have children, will we have to hide them from the world? There are so many out there who despise half-lings and even those who kidnap them for their own devices. We will have to decide whether or not to shield our child from the world and keep him under our wing or let him be free and fly, but be at risk of the hunters.”

She bit her lip, trying to hide the tears of frustration that were threatening to form. “I hate it!” she hissed. “I hate having to make all of these decisions for the well-being of others. We shouldn’t have to worry about the future of our family just because they are different! When will the world learn to love the unique as I have? When will the world learn to embrace demons and elves and dwarves and the like? You are no different than me!”

Frustrated she wrung her hands together in a moment of silence. Slowly Aki took them in his to stop her from hurting herself.

“Oh I know,” she muttered before he could say anything. “I’m making a mountain out of an ant hill. But still, why must we have to deal with this just because of who we are?” She shook her head as he sat there and comforted her.

She tried to ignore that wracking cries of her sister-in-law from the kitchen.

-------

Fen and Zihark camped that night on the edge of the desert. The Inn wasn’t very far in, just far enough for the heat to kick in and lack of water. Rither and Lorenzo’s home was past the border and into the forest which started abruptly rising from the dusty dirt like a large wall. The market they had been at was right on the edge, the forest bordering one edge with the desert at the other. Sarlan was farther in the Inn was, which meant they had to go west and then backtrack a bit, but in the end he would hopefully fulfill his mission.

Zihark sat looking up at the stars while Fen stared into the fire they had set up, the flames giving his already brilliant fur even more shine. Zihark flicked his gaze from starward to the wolf.

“You were dreaming this morning,” he finally said. The wolf said nothing. “You told me that you never dream.”

“I don’t,” was Fen’s flat reply.

Zihark chewed the inside of his cheek slightly, trying to come up with something else to say.

“You whimpered.”

“Did I?” Fen asked without really asking. It was more of a comment. “Well I’m sorry for shattering my stony, warrior-like exterior.”

Sarcasm. Zihark hated it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Fen snorted. “Not particularly.”

They fell into another silence and Zihark looked back to the sky.

“I dreamt of my mate,” Fen said sometime afterward. Zihark turned his gaze to him again. The old wolf looked defeated and tired and much older than he ever had. He wondered briefly if his age was starting to get to him.

“Good dreams?”

“Dreams of Rahna are usually good.” Zihark nodded silently. Fen looked to the stars, gazing without really looking. His eyes were glazed slightly as he breathed in deeply. “I miss her,” he whispered.

“You always do,” Zihark said.

Fen allowed himself a little smile.

--------

Fen dreamt again and this time he dreamt of war. The memory was so powerful that he could feel the heat of the harsh desert, that he could smell the burning of dead soldiers and the sorrow in his heart as they placed gold coins on their eyes—passage to the netherlands.

“It’s terrible isn’t it?” a voice said. It was young and held the crisp and dignified nature of a noble. But Keiran was a noble worthy of his title. He had a brilliant mind and sword arm, and a sharp tongue to match. They were standing on a desert plateau, over looking the aftermath of a grim battle. The general was wearing black armor that had been splattered in blood. Fen stood at his side, wearing a helmet and chest plate that had been hammered solely for him.

“It is.”

Kieran looked to him, sadness etched in his young face. He was barely twenty-five years old and far too young to have seen a sight like this. Or to taste it. His unruly brown hair was as messy as ever and his bright green eyes were like orbs. This was Marquin Brinsely’s direct ancestor. He had known the moment he had met her. She even smelled like him. Smiled liked him. Acted and spoke like him. It was hard being around her at times, the memory was so strong.

But she didn’t know; he had kept it a secret.

“Remind me, what is it we fight for?” Kieran asked.

“Survival,” Fen answered.

“When did it come to be that?”

“The second we went to war.”

Kieran sighed and looked back to the field. “All this terror… and just for land. Dead land.”

“The Palathadian Empire is not dead,” Fen said. “It’s people live on.”

“But not for long…” Kieran said. And right he was. The Palathadian People would eventually be wiped out and nearly erased from history. Fen watched it happen.

“Sir,” a voice said from behind them. It was Rahna. Fen knew her scent anywhere. “We have new information. The enemy ranks fled, but they are regrouping. They will probably attack again within the week.”

Kieran nodded. “Thank you, you are dismissed.” She nodded and went off, leaving the two behind.“Dead land…” the general repeated.

“Land equals power,” Fen reminded him. “As does money. This war is about both. It is unfortunate we are on the losing side.”

“You think we will lose?”

Fen looked to Kieran with knowing eyes. “You don’t?”

“No, I know we will,” the man said back. “I had no doubt. We are nothing but a bunch of rag-tag farmers with a few soldiers here and there. But to hear it from you… it’s like a death sentence.”

“Then why do we fight?” Fen asked.

Kieran was silent a moment before answering. “Because we are soldiers. It’s our job. War means work. War means a purpose.”

“I’d rather be dead,” Fen said.

“Yes. I know the feeling.”

Then they were both silent, just looking out. What a sad scene it was, two commanders who knew their doomed fate, but pressed on. They had no choice.

It was their purpose to be doomed.

------

The dream shifted to sometime later and Fen found himself in a tent. It was still the battlement camp and then war was still raging. He sat there, pouring over a map when someone entered through the small slit. He smiled at the scent.

“Don’t work yourself to death,” Rahna said to him.

She had joined the military along with many others of their pack, and she had risen within the ranks fast. She had proved herself to be worthy and many now respected her for her prowess and power when it came to strategic fighting. Not only was she strong, but clever, and her plans always worked. Always.

“I won’t,” he said to her.

“I’d hate you if you did. Die, I mean.”

“No you wouldn’t, you’d be glad.”

“Don’t joke.”

She stepped closer and nuzzled her snout against his neck. He froze and then pressed back against her, inhaling her musky scent from her fur. They hated each other, but loved each other. It was a complicated relationship, one full of mishaps and trials, but tenderness and peace. Fen licked her face gently before turning back to the map.

“Are you going to come to bed?”

“Soon,” he replied. She didn’t like the answer. She stopped panting and closed her mouth tensely.

“You need rest. You can’t run this army on only four hours of sleep every night.”

“Kieran did,” he said.

“Kieran is dead,” she said flatly. He paused and sighed, rubbing at his face with his paw. He didn’t need to be reminded. It killed him. His friend, his comrade, dead before he even turned thirty. He closed his eyes and fought back tears.“Oh dear,” she muttered, pressing against him. “I know. It’s hard for us all.”

“He lived and breathed this war,” he said. “He didn’t even get to live through it. He gave it everything, and how is he paid? With a sword through his back, and by one of his own men. You can’t even trust those close to you.”

“He trusted you,” she said.

“And look where that got him. I should’ve been there to save him.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once,” Rahna said, licking his cheek. Fen sighed and blew out the candle the lit the map. He stood.

“Let’s sleep,” he said.

They spoke no more that night.

------- ‘