kayla796
05-11-2009, 11:12 PM
I
It begins
"How dare you bring him here!" Fasno shouted. His grey coat had lost its luster in his many years.
"Shh, he's asleep," Amellia said. She turned, grey-black fur catching the light, to face the black she-wolf. Falku stared at her lanky figure with hope in her eyes.
They were in a small den dug by Bonsa’s mate with his own claws. He had dug every den and tunnel for his pack; he had been the Alpha after all. Bonsa was the first wolf to set paw in this place over four hundred summers ago.
Their only cub had come of age long before and had taken over his duties to allow him to rejoin the pack. The digging began when word of his daughter’s capture reached Bloodfang. He was desperate to see his mate safe, for his pup was surely dead. Afterward he lived underground with the wolves. By unspoken consent no one ever mentioned Bloodfang’s fallen kingdom.
Bloodfang did a great thing last spring when Bonsa became pregnant. He didn’t want his cubs to feel different because they would not be size-shifters like him, so he cast a spell on the tunnels and dens. Anyone inside a five mile range could grow no larger than an average wolf. But it came at a great cost. He lost his fire.
Last spring a silver she-wolf and a black wolf were born to Bonsa and Bloodfang. He touched noses to the younger black cub first, “From now on you shall be known as Emonku.” His muzzle was not an ear’s length from the silver cub when a red spark flashed between them. The cub’s lids flew open and in the moment their eyes met Bloodfang remembered The Ancient One’s words and what he must do. His paw went to his hilt and his expression became solemn.
The pup’s name escaped his mouth as a whisper, “Embala.”
He knelt before Bonsa, “On Embala’s fourteenth birthday give her my blade and tell who I am, but not what I am. She can’t spend her puphood knowing she’s a half-breed. She’ll probably turn out just like me, stubborn. If she tries to leave don’t stop her. I love you so much Bonsa but, there’s something I have to do.” He rubbed his cheek along the sides of her snout.
She whimpered. “You don’t have to go. Taka’s a traitor, it’s not your fault.”
“I put him in second command under Falnu. I let him inside the castle. It’s my fault our Falnu is dead. It’s my fault.”
She licked his horn to comfort him.
Then Bloodfang spoke the words none in the pack shall ever forget, “The star and the moon shall meet. Brother must kill brother. Only then can peace reign.” He left and was never seen again.
The light of a glow flower brought Falku back to the present.
“Would you raise him as a wolf, even though he’s a liger?” Amellia repeated.
Falku responded full of determination, “I know I can.”
“He’ll grow up and destroy us all!” Fasno snarled.
“Not if he’s raised as a wolf and treated like one of the pack,” Amellia argued, “and I don’t mean the way Embala’s treated as one of the pack! You ignore her and edge away if she’s near.”
“Because she’s a worthless half-breed. She doesn’t de-“ he was cut off by a swipe of Amellia’s paw. He was left with deep gashes across his muzzle that would never heal. A whimpering sound made the wolves turn.
Pressed against a dark corner was the little silver pup, “Darge says he hurts. Can he stay?”
___________________________________________
Embala stuck her muzzle through the moss that covered the den’s entrance. She smelt the pine trees on the edge of the clearing, then the sweet smell of wild flowers. Finally, she caught the scent of rabbit. She pushed her way through the tunnel, followed by Darge.
They were doing something rare. They had been allowed to hunt during the day. But they must be quick or the soldiers might find them. Ever since the dragons had been over thrown by a lion named Taka, troops had been searching for more animals for a larger army. Once caught you had two choices: join or die.
She stepped into the clearing. The sun felt good as it warmed her hide against the autumn chill. She turned to Darge. He was a liger but the only trace of lion was the black tuft of fur on the tip of his striped tail. His snow white coat was marked with jet black stripes that covered all but his face and paws. Darge’s light pink nose seemed out of place beside her black one. On all fours, just like with all four legged animals, the fur on his underbelly nearly dragged the ground.
His strong, lean muscles flexed as he walked, but his kind sky blue eyes betrayed his fierce looks. Like her, he only unsheathed his claws to hunt.
Embala often worried for him in the winter because his fur was not as thick as the wolves’. But he made do by sleeping with more furs. They often skinned their prey for the warmth they provided.
She followed the rabbit’s scent to the trees. Every time Embala took a step Darge could see her fur ripple. It wasn’t grey but it wasn’t white either. The solid color was broken only by a splash of black at the tip of her snout, a common trait among wolves. When her fur rippled it flashed silver, as if the light of the moon shone from her coat.
Their friendship was strong. They were outcasts, never truly accepted by the pack. Their parents loved them deeply, but without each other they had nothing.
Embala’s posture shifted as she caught a new scent, deer probably, by the way her weight shifted to her back legs. The wind blew the new scent to Darge. It was sharp and oaky, tinged with the smells of the wood. Definitely deer. He could also smell Embala’s scent mixed with the prey’s. Her’s was like nothing else. She had the same musky wolf scent, but it was different. It was also smoky and earthy.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on her scent alone. His favorite smell in the world filled his nostrils. It was like a sweet lullaby.
“Come on and stop day dreaming,” she called playfully before pulling the limp deer into the hidden den.
She dragged the deer into the den where eight hungry wolves waited. Meals had never been Embala’s favorite time. Her father was a strong leader, but he left when she was born because he was ill. That’s all she ever knew about him.
When he left, no new Alpha had been named and the pack was still leaderless. The elders made decisions, but there was no real leader. No one knew who to follow. If someone tried to step up the elders would not allow it. Because of that most wolves left between the ages of twelve and twenty. Ral and Salo had turned sixteen last week and were leaving soon.
Embala dropped the deer in the center of the cave. She growled, daring anyone to take what was hers. Ral snarled and his black fur bristled. She silently unsheathed her claws. He took a step forward, causing her to snap.
Darge emerged from the shadows to protect the meat as she fought. He knew it was a very, very bad idea to anger Embala. She would never hurt Darge, but the others were another story. Ral yelped and rolled onto his back under her. She began to eat beside Darge with a smug look on her face.
“Did you really have to break his leg?” Darge asked in a whisper.
She also spoke in a hushed tone, “It’s not my fault if his leg snapped like a twig. He knows how much stronger I am-we are-than the rest of them. It’s their own fault if they get hurt.”
Darge had to admit, she was right, him and Embala equaled one another in strength but not even Embala’s own mother, Bonsa, could compare to them even a fraction.
When they were finished they stopped by Darge’s den then went to Bonsa’s dens. They sat in the empty main den.
“Happy fourteenth birthday, Bala!” he shouted abruptly. He held something trapped between his paws. She looked closely, trying to see through his fur. “Close your eyes.”
She did as he asked and felt a slight weight around her neck. Embala opened her eyes and glanced down. A sapphire oval locket reflected light back. “It’s beautiful,” she marveled, “where did you find it?”
“It washed down the river. I cleaned it up. You won’t find a speck of dirt on it. I’ve already tried and even I can’t get it open.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, “I love it, Darge!”
“I’m glad you do.”
“Hey kids,” a brown wolf said as she came in and headed to her sleeping den.
“Hi mom.”
“Hi Bonsa.”
She returned with something wrapped in leather. She gave it to her daughter with a serious expression on her face. Embala pulled away the leather and saw a sheath with writing on it. She rubbed away the dirt. It read:
Bloodfang
Defender of the weak
Protector of justice
Master of the skies
“What is this?”
“It was your father’s sword. He left it to you. His name was Bloodfang. Embala, he wasn’t a wolf. You are a half-breed.”
She was confused, “But if he wasn’t a wolf than why do I look like one?”
“It’s hard to explain. See, your older sister didn’t look like a wolf. She took after your father in appearance. But she perished long ago. There’s one more thing, your father wasn’t sick. He left to save us. If he hadn’t left things would be a lot worse,” Bonsa tried to break it to her daughter gently.
“I have to leave. I have to know what I am. There are too many questions, too many things I don’t know,” she explained.
“I understand. You’re not pups anymore. I’ll go explain to your mother, Darge.”
“Bala, are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going with you. There’s nothing we can’t do if we’re together,” she smiled up at him.
Together. I like the sound of that. He smiled back at her, “Agreed. I’ll get my stuff and meet you outside your main den.”
She began to gather her things from in her room. She searched the pile of furs that was her bed. She selected three blankets: one for a light chill that was a worn deer skin, one made of white stag fur for the coldest nights, and a lion pelt in case she needed to get by a guard. She looked through her pile of books but none would come in handy. She stuck her nose to the ground then kicked up the covering dirt. Her only gold was revealed as the dust settled. Not much but it was all she had.
Embala put on her sword belt with her father’s sword and tossed a bag full of her things over her shoulder and went outside to wait. She did not need to wait long because Darge and Bonsa were already there.
“Goodbye Embala and remember, every journey begins with a single pawstep,” tears filled her eyes.
“’Bye mom, I love you.” They embraced for a long moment then it was time for Embala and Darge to start their journey.
II
Not my father’s son
They walked through the woods until they found a trail. Then, they followed it until dusk.
“We need to stop here,” she was already building a fire. Darge nodded and yawned sleepily.
“What are you doing?” a mysterious voice asked. Embala jumped up, by instinct, to all fours. Darge too jumped to his paws, and began to snarl at a nearby bush that was now rustling. Suddenly a gold and red griffin stepped from his place behind the bush.
“I am Marka. Now tell me what a liger,” he said liger with disgust, “and such a cute wolf are doing out here alone?” Embala giggled, surprised by the compliment. No one had ever called her that. Nobody ever even complimented her, she had always been so different.
He looked at only Embala now, “you really should laugh more, my dear. It suits you stunningly.” Darge growled deep in his throat and the fur on his back stood up.
Marka thought, he’s the jealous type.”Sorry, I had no idea this wolf was your mate.”
Darge was too enraged to answer. “He’s not,” Embala explained.
“May I come with you to- where ever it is your going?” Marka asked, “I won’t be a bother, I promise. I can even help. I’m a medicine griffin.”
Darge pulled Embala aside, “He’s not coming with us, Bala. I don’t trust him.”
“Let him come, Darge. We need all the allies we can get. Besides, he’s nice,” she said, looking at Marka. Darge growled in his direction when he followed her gaze.
“Darge, are you jealous?” she inquired.
“Of course not. I just don’t trust him, that’s all,” he said stiffening.
“Fine. If you don’t have a good reason then he’s coming,” she declared.
Darge sighed.
When Embala relayed the news to Marka he said, “If we keep walking down this path we’ll come along a town. I have a friend there that can help us. By the way I never got your names.”
“Embala.”
“Darge,” he replied, slightly more relaxed.
“I can buy you a new necklace when we get there, Bala.”
Darge jumped on him and within a few seconds had his fangs at his throat.
Darge hissed, “No one calls her Bala except me.” Embala rammed into his side. She helped him up. Marka was startled, having had the wind knocked out of him.
“As for the necklace, I love the one I have. Darge gave it to me. And, if you ever call me Bala again I will personally see to it that Darge rips your throat out.”
Marka looked at Darge’s thick arms and gulped. “Friends?” he held his paw out. Darge considered it for a moment than shook it a little harder than necessary. When Darge released his paw Marka flexed his fingers and winced.
Darge curled up near the fire, resting his tail over his nose. Embala lay down next to him and patted the ground beside her. Marka eyed Darge then slept on the other side of the fire.
“Wake up, I’ve got food,” Marka’s voice rung out in the camp. Embala stretched, arching her back like a cat. The oily smell of fish roused Darge from his deep slumber. Marka landed in the clearing with three large trout hanging from his beak. Embala took the one he offered and laid it over the warm coals on a bed of leaves.
“Are you cooking that fish?”
“She does it whenever she can. Don’t worry.”
“Um, okay. Doesn’t it taste strange? I think cooked meat tastes like warm jerky”
“It doesn’t if you only brown it,” she explained, finishing the last of her fish. He gave her an odd look and picked his remainder off the tiny bones.
“Come on, the village is this way.” He ran up the trail. Darge and Embala stared at each other.
Darge sighed, “Let’s go.”
“Wait up Marka.” Embala caught his shoulder. “We can’t just walk up and go through the gate. We’re not members of the army and I don’t want to join anytime soon.”
“I thought Darge could think of something when we get there. I usually go in with a large group, but to do that we’d have to wait until noon.” Embala and Marka waited for Darge to have an idea.
“I can say you’re my mate and Marka is a prisoner. I am a white tiger.”
“No you’re not.” Marka was confused.
“But I can pass for one.” He grinned slyly.
“Just keep your tail down and they’ll never know the difference,” she agreed.
“I told you my plan would work.”
“What plan?”
“My plan to get Darge to plan.”
“I actually understood that.” Darge laughed at Embala’s expression when she said this.
Along the trail robins sang and squirrels darted between the pine trees.
“It’s only a little ways down the road now.” Marka walked in front with his head down and Darge stepped directly behind him as Embala walked closer to his side than before.
The gate was two blocks of hard wood held to the frame with ropes. The fence that lined the city was tall but the wood was weak and rotting. The bears stood guard with their swords barring entry to the doors. Their black fur was dull with grime.
Darge cleared his throat. “I demand access.”
“Why should we let you through, pup?”
His responding voice grew in fury as he spoke, “I am a soldier of the king’s army and if you do not let us into this puny town I will have it burned to the ground.”
They moved the swords and let them pass without a word.
The village was made up of houses and stores built out of an odd combination of wood, twigs, and straw. They were the kind of houses that swayed in the hard wind but did not fall.
“This way,” Marka tugged them along into what must be a shop because it had a sign out front that read: Gold Piece’s jewelry and gold pieces.
Inside it smelled of salt water and cedar. A fox stood behind a wooden counter with trinkets spread in front of him. He was a warm brown color with paws a dark, almost black chocolate and a white patch of fur marked his chest. Around his waist was strapped a long sword that gave him a pirate like look. His most unusual feature was a gold earring that dangled from his ear lobe and glinted in the light from the glassless windows. (Glass was hard to make and very expensive these days)
“G.P. at your serv- Marka, you old bird how’d ja get in this time?” His voice was that of a salty sea dog, through and through.
“Darge’s idea.” He gestured toward Darge.
He came around the counter and studied Darge. Then he shook Darge’s paw.
“You got a powerful body. And a quick mind to get you and ya friends in here like ‘at.” He winked at Embala, “And might I say, a good lookin’ lass.”
Embala looked at Darge. It was his turn to explain.
“She’s not my…whatever you said…I mean…we’re just friends.”
Embala let out an internal sigh. At least he tried to explain.
”What he means is: we’re friends and nothing more.”
“Hmm. Are ye sure? I’ve never been wrong about these things before.”
Darge and Embala took a long look at each other.
“Positive,” they both said at the same time. They burst out laughing together.
“Why are you here?” G.P. asked when their giggles died down.
“I want to know about my father.”
“I may know him. What be his name?”
“Bloodfang.”
He grew very quiet. After what seemed to be an eternity he finally spoke in a whisper, “You’re his daughter?”
She removed the sword and the ruby blade seemed to glow with power.
He nodded.
“That’s his sword, alright. Your father was a great man. He protected his people till the end.” He bowed his head in respect. “If anyone can tell ya what you wanna know, it’s Falnu. She’s locked in the dungeon with the other dragons. But, I’m afraid I have no idea where it is. Ask in the next town over. But for heaven’s sake, don’t let the any of the soldiers hear you.”
Falnu was the queen of the dragons and the rightful ruler of Flyergen. Dragons had always ruled. They felt the pain of their people. Amellia had once said that if anyone died in the kingdom you could hear the ruler’s screams of agony across the land. This made them caring kings and queens and their years made them wise.
“G.P. how do you know my father?”
“How do ya think I got my nickname?” he flicked his earring. “I helped him and he gave me a piece of gold. I melted it down into this. He said, ‘Your name does not fit you. Perhaps Erobby, It means friend of the sea dragons. You are worthy of such a name. You shall always be a friend to them and us as well. Thank you for helping our cousins.’ I told him I’d use the gold to change my name.”
“What did he mean by ‘us’?” Darge inquired before Embala could.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. It seems you don’t already know so you must find out for yourselves.” He smiled apologetically.
Embala sighed. “Thank you for your help, G.P. You’re kind to help strangers.”
“It wasn’t strangers I was helpin’. We’ve met before, but you were still in ya ma. Tell her G.P. said, ‘The fleas be bitin’. The dogs be fightin.’ She’ll understand.”
“Bye G.P., if there’s ever anything you need, just ask,” Darge whispered to him as the others left.
“If something doesn’t change soon I may have to take ya up on that.”
Darge blinked against the sun. He tried to see Embala and Marka but people kept bumping into him and pushing him. Uh! I can’t stand this. Where are they?
“Darge, over here!” Thank goodness, it’s Bala.
She was crouched down behind a building. “I hate this place.”
Embala sympathized, “I think my nose is going to burn off.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re complaining about. Most villages are this way when it’s busy. You have no social skills.” Marka was risking his feathers by saying this.
“I have plenty social skills. This is my first time in a town that’s all,” she defended.
“S-u-r-e.” He drug the word out like he was speaking to someone who was mentally disabled.
She growled and bared her fangs. He pressed himself against a wall. Her claws unsheathed. She snarled again, her tongue lashing between her teeth. Then she leapt into the air and… landed on Marka without leaving a scratch.
“You just sheathed your claws mid leap. I thought you were going to kill me for questioning your people skills.”
She rolled off him and sprang to her paws in one fluid motion.
“I would never, but it would be ironic if I did.” She laughed again then hoisted herself to her back legs.
“So, where is the nearest sword shop?” Darge asked.
“We’re hiding behind it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“You go on in, I’ll wait out front.” Embala smiled kindly.
“Yeah, okay.” He found a smile playing across his face without realizing it. It was so natural. He turned around and almost skipped to the store front.
Embala knew him well enough she knew he was doing his best to not skip. She laughed then followed behind him. He went inside and she leaned against the wall, looking out at the animals passing by.
Soldiers made up the majority but those that were too young, sick, or old wandered past, free from fighting and warfare. Then there were the lucky ones that lived wild. They never thought to walk upright. They never shopped or fought with weapons. They lived a simpler, sometimes harsher, life. Living a life without speech, but still communicating with one another, hunting when needed, mating and having cubs in spring, teaching those cubs to survive. They went through their whole lives without facing war or worrying about being stabbed in their sleep. Sure, there was bloodshed, but it was only claws and fangs against claws and fangs.
They have no idea how lucky they are. She sighed. Their lives are so simple: hunt, eat, mate, teach, eat, hunt. I wish could have been like that for me. Then again, if I had lived like that I wouldn’t have met Darge. She smiled to herself. On second thought, it’s not worth it. To be wild is to be without someone I care about, to be without my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without Darge.
“Bala,” Darge whispered into her right ear. She jumped. She hadn’t smelt him coming because she hadn’t been paying attention.
“Geez, just sneak up on somebody.”
“Sorry. I got a sword.” He held up a polished blade made of something she couldn’t identify. No, not steel. It doesn’t look like metal.
“What’s it made of?”
He leaned close to her and whispered, “White…white dragon scales. It will never break or scratch.”
“Aren’t those illegal?”
“He’s a friend of G.P.’s. He asked if I came to visit someone and I said that G.P. was an old friend, then he took me to a back room full of swords like this.”She grew wide-eyed and speechless. “I know. That’s what I looked like when I saw them.” He laughed a little.
Embala shook her head. “Come on and let’s not tell Marka.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
She frowned at him.
“Sorree,” he mumbled.
“Am I the subject of another fight?” Marka asked from beside them. They turned and saw him and G.P. waiting for them.
“I thought I’d walk ya to the gate.” G.P. offered.
“We’re not fighting, just a slight difference in opinion.” Embala verified.
“Onward, conquerin’ heroes,” he teased in a low volume as he walked them to the back gate, “off to face and destroy king Thorat.”
Embala thought it impossible but Darge’s skin underneath his fur, that usually turned red when embarrassed, now turned paler than ever. his voice was quiet as he asked, “What did you say?”
“I said king Thorat. Taka died a while back, but unfortunately his son is just as corrupt.” The doors closed, blocking their view of the pirate fox.
A trail lead farther away, dug deep into the ground by cart wheels and many paws.
As they walked silence enveloped them. Embala was the first to break the quiet, “Darge are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve hated my father since I was old enough to realize he abandon me,” he answered coldly.
Marka stopped dead in his tracks. “What!? You have to be kidding. There’s no way you’re Taka’s son.” He faced Darge, “who are you Darge?”
Darge averted his gaze but Marka moved and forced Darge to look him in the eye.
“I am not my father’s son.” He said sternly and without emotion.
III
Lazy
They walked until early afternoon turned into sunset. They began to set up for the night. Their packs had gotten heaver with the long day. Together they choose an area surrounded by tall trees closely knitted together to form a protecting circle.
“According to what G.P. said if we get going right after sunset we’ll be in and out of the next town by sundown. Maybe by the time we leave we will know where the dungeon is.” She yawned in the firelight.
Darge awoke later that night to Embala’s tail leaving the clearing behind her. Darge followed silently making sure not to wake Marka. Strange bushes began to replace the green ferns, and then they became greater in number. She jumped over a large bush spotted with bright red berries. He pushed his way through the shrub.
The grass was bright green and the river sparkled. The moon was full and bathed everything in a cool silver light. The wind gusted, blowing their fur around.
This happened whenever the wind blew hard. The urge to leap into the air was unbearable to resist. The wind called to Embala like a phoenix to flames. Darge always worried that one day the wind would call her and she’d run out and be caught by soldiers. Luckily, it hadn’t happened yet.
She jumped around in the wind like a fawn. When she saw him she bounded near him and nipped his ear, waiting for him to follow. He chased her. Every time he got close she jumped away until he had to leap around the clearing, mimicking her.
They began to laugh gleefully. All Darge’s worries disappeared, like the wind had blown them away. Is this how Bala feels when she jumps in the wind?
She playfully knocked him over and pinned him to the ground. He lay flat on his back as she loomed over him on all fours, “It’s like we’re pups again.” Darge lifted his head up and lightly tugged on her ear. “Cut it out Darge.”
She sighed happily and rolled to lie beside him. The moon smiled down and the stars danced in the dark sky. “Look, it’s Orion.” He pointed to a grouping of bright lights.
She scooted closer into his fur. He angled her head toward him and gave her a puzzled look. “It’s cold.” She explained. He released his grip on her face. It was chilly.
The fall air gusted again and she shivered, shaking him. He yawned greatly. “I guess we have to walk back to camp,” she said sleepily.
“We don’t have to. Marka won’t be up for a bit.”
“I’d like that.” She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. He smiled and made himself more comfortable.////
So what do you people think? Any responses please.
It begins
"How dare you bring him here!" Fasno shouted. His grey coat had lost its luster in his many years.
"Shh, he's asleep," Amellia said. She turned, grey-black fur catching the light, to face the black she-wolf. Falku stared at her lanky figure with hope in her eyes.
They were in a small den dug by Bonsa’s mate with his own claws. He had dug every den and tunnel for his pack; he had been the Alpha after all. Bonsa was the first wolf to set paw in this place over four hundred summers ago.
Their only cub had come of age long before and had taken over his duties to allow him to rejoin the pack. The digging began when word of his daughter’s capture reached Bloodfang. He was desperate to see his mate safe, for his pup was surely dead. Afterward he lived underground with the wolves. By unspoken consent no one ever mentioned Bloodfang’s fallen kingdom.
Bloodfang did a great thing last spring when Bonsa became pregnant. He didn’t want his cubs to feel different because they would not be size-shifters like him, so he cast a spell on the tunnels and dens. Anyone inside a five mile range could grow no larger than an average wolf. But it came at a great cost. He lost his fire.
Last spring a silver she-wolf and a black wolf were born to Bonsa and Bloodfang. He touched noses to the younger black cub first, “From now on you shall be known as Emonku.” His muzzle was not an ear’s length from the silver cub when a red spark flashed between them. The cub’s lids flew open and in the moment their eyes met Bloodfang remembered The Ancient One’s words and what he must do. His paw went to his hilt and his expression became solemn.
The pup’s name escaped his mouth as a whisper, “Embala.”
He knelt before Bonsa, “On Embala’s fourteenth birthday give her my blade and tell who I am, but not what I am. She can’t spend her puphood knowing she’s a half-breed. She’ll probably turn out just like me, stubborn. If she tries to leave don’t stop her. I love you so much Bonsa but, there’s something I have to do.” He rubbed his cheek along the sides of her snout.
She whimpered. “You don’t have to go. Taka’s a traitor, it’s not your fault.”
“I put him in second command under Falnu. I let him inside the castle. It’s my fault our Falnu is dead. It’s my fault.”
She licked his horn to comfort him.
Then Bloodfang spoke the words none in the pack shall ever forget, “The star and the moon shall meet. Brother must kill brother. Only then can peace reign.” He left and was never seen again.
The light of a glow flower brought Falku back to the present.
“Would you raise him as a wolf, even though he’s a liger?” Amellia repeated.
Falku responded full of determination, “I know I can.”
“He’ll grow up and destroy us all!” Fasno snarled.
“Not if he’s raised as a wolf and treated like one of the pack,” Amellia argued, “and I don’t mean the way Embala’s treated as one of the pack! You ignore her and edge away if she’s near.”
“Because she’s a worthless half-breed. She doesn’t de-“ he was cut off by a swipe of Amellia’s paw. He was left with deep gashes across his muzzle that would never heal. A whimpering sound made the wolves turn.
Pressed against a dark corner was the little silver pup, “Darge says he hurts. Can he stay?”
___________________________________________
Embala stuck her muzzle through the moss that covered the den’s entrance. She smelt the pine trees on the edge of the clearing, then the sweet smell of wild flowers. Finally, she caught the scent of rabbit. She pushed her way through the tunnel, followed by Darge.
They were doing something rare. They had been allowed to hunt during the day. But they must be quick or the soldiers might find them. Ever since the dragons had been over thrown by a lion named Taka, troops had been searching for more animals for a larger army. Once caught you had two choices: join or die.
She stepped into the clearing. The sun felt good as it warmed her hide against the autumn chill. She turned to Darge. He was a liger but the only trace of lion was the black tuft of fur on the tip of his striped tail. His snow white coat was marked with jet black stripes that covered all but his face and paws. Darge’s light pink nose seemed out of place beside her black one. On all fours, just like with all four legged animals, the fur on his underbelly nearly dragged the ground.
His strong, lean muscles flexed as he walked, but his kind sky blue eyes betrayed his fierce looks. Like her, he only unsheathed his claws to hunt.
Embala often worried for him in the winter because his fur was not as thick as the wolves’. But he made do by sleeping with more furs. They often skinned their prey for the warmth they provided.
She followed the rabbit’s scent to the trees. Every time Embala took a step Darge could see her fur ripple. It wasn’t grey but it wasn’t white either. The solid color was broken only by a splash of black at the tip of her snout, a common trait among wolves. When her fur rippled it flashed silver, as if the light of the moon shone from her coat.
Their friendship was strong. They were outcasts, never truly accepted by the pack. Their parents loved them deeply, but without each other they had nothing.
Embala’s posture shifted as she caught a new scent, deer probably, by the way her weight shifted to her back legs. The wind blew the new scent to Darge. It was sharp and oaky, tinged with the smells of the wood. Definitely deer. He could also smell Embala’s scent mixed with the prey’s. Her’s was like nothing else. She had the same musky wolf scent, but it was different. It was also smoky and earthy.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on her scent alone. His favorite smell in the world filled his nostrils. It was like a sweet lullaby.
“Come on and stop day dreaming,” she called playfully before pulling the limp deer into the hidden den.
She dragged the deer into the den where eight hungry wolves waited. Meals had never been Embala’s favorite time. Her father was a strong leader, but he left when she was born because he was ill. That’s all she ever knew about him.
When he left, no new Alpha had been named and the pack was still leaderless. The elders made decisions, but there was no real leader. No one knew who to follow. If someone tried to step up the elders would not allow it. Because of that most wolves left between the ages of twelve and twenty. Ral and Salo had turned sixteen last week and were leaving soon.
Embala dropped the deer in the center of the cave. She growled, daring anyone to take what was hers. Ral snarled and his black fur bristled. She silently unsheathed her claws. He took a step forward, causing her to snap.
Darge emerged from the shadows to protect the meat as she fought. He knew it was a very, very bad idea to anger Embala. She would never hurt Darge, but the others were another story. Ral yelped and rolled onto his back under her. She began to eat beside Darge with a smug look on her face.
“Did you really have to break his leg?” Darge asked in a whisper.
She also spoke in a hushed tone, “It’s not my fault if his leg snapped like a twig. He knows how much stronger I am-we are-than the rest of them. It’s their own fault if they get hurt.”
Darge had to admit, she was right, him and Embala equaled one another in strength but not even Embala’s own mother, Bonsa, could compare to them even a fraction.
When they were finished they stopped by Darge’s den then went to Bonsa’s dens. They sat in the empty main den.
“Happy fourteenth birthday, Bala!” he shouted abruptly. He held something trapped between his paws. She looked closely, trying to see through his fur. “Close your eyes.”
She did as he asked and felt a slight weight around her neck. Embala opened her eyes and glanced down. A sapphire oval locket reflected light back. “It’s beautiful,” she marveled, “where did you find it?”
“It washed down the river. I cleaned it up. You won’t find a speck of dirt on it. I’ve already tried and even I can’t get it open.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, “I love it, Darge!”
“I’m glad you do.”
“Hey kids,” a brown wolf said as she came in and headed to her sleeping den.
“Hi mom.”
“Hi Bonsa.”
She returned with something wrapped in leather. She gave it to her daughter with a serious expression on her face. Embala pulled away the leather and saw a sheath with writing on it. She rubbed away the dirt. It read:
Bloodfang
Defender of the weak
Protector of justice
Master of the skies
“What is this?”
“It was your father’s sword. He left it to you. His name was Bloodfang. Embala, he wasn’t a wolf. You are a half-breed.”
She was confused, “But if he wasn’t a wolf than why do I look like one?”
“It’s hard to explain. See, your older sister didn’t look like a wolf. She took after your father in appearance. But she perished long ago. There’s one more thing, your father wasn’t sick. He left to save us. If he hadn’t left things would be a lot worse,” Bonsa tried to break it to her daughter gently.
“I have to leave. I have to know what I am. There are too many questions, too many things I don’t know,” she explained.
“I understand. You’re not pups anymore. I’ll go explain to your mother, Darge.”
“Bala, are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going with you. There’s nothing we can’t do if we’re together,” she smiled up at him.
Together. I like the sound of that. He smiled back at her, “Agreed. I’ll get my stuff and meet you outside your main den.”
She began to gather her things from in her room. She searched the pile of furs that was her bed. She selected three blankets: one for a light chill that was a worn deer skin, one made of white stag fur for the coldest nights, and a lion pelt in case she needed to get by a guard. She looked through her pile of books but none would come in handy. She stuck her nose to the ground then kicked up the covering dirt. Her only gold was revealed as the dust settled. Not much but it was all she had.
Embala put on her sword belt with her father’s sword and tossed a bag full of her things over her shoulder and went outside to wait. She did not need to wait long because Darge and Bonsa were already there.
“Goodbye Embala and remember, every journey begins with a single pawstep,” tears filled her eyes.
“’Bye mom, I love you.” They embraced for a long moment then it was time for Embala and Darge to start their journey.
II
Not my father’s son
They walked through the woods until they found a trail. Then, they followed it until dusk.
“We need to stop here,” she was already building a fire. Darge nodded and yawned sleepily.
“What are you doing?” a mysterious voice asked. Embala jumped up, by instinct, to all fours. Darge too jumped to his paws, and began to snarl at a nearby bush that was now rustling. Suddenly a gold and red griffin stepped from his place behind the bush.
“I am Marka. Now tell me what a liger,” he said liger with disgust, “and such a cute wolf are doing out here alone?” Embala giggled, surprised by the compliment. No one had ever called her that. Nobody ever even complimented her, she had always been so different.
He looked at only Embala now, “you really should laugh more, my dear. It suits you stunningly.” Darge growled deep in his throat and the fur on his back stood up.
Marka thought, he’s the jealous type.”Sorry, I had no idea this wolf was your mate.”
Darge was too enraged to answer. “He’s not,” Embala explained.
“May I come with you to- where ever it is your going?” Marka asked, “I won’t be a bother, I promise. I can even help. I’m a medicine griffin.”
Darge pulled Embala aside, “He’s not coming with us, Bala. I don’t trust him.”
“Let him come, Darge. We need all the allies we can get. Besides, he’s nice,” she said, looking at Marka. Darge growled in his direction when he followed her gaze.
“Darge, are you jealous?” she inquired.
“Of course not. I just don’t trust him, that’s all,” he said stiffening.
“Fine. If you don’t have a good reason then he’s coming,” she declared.
Darge sighed.
When Embala relayed the news to Marka he said, “If we keep walking down this path we’ll come along a town. I have a friend there that can help us. By the way I never got your names.”
“Embala.”
“Darge,” he replied, slightly more relaxed.
“I can buy you a new necklace when we get there, Bala.”
Darge jumped on him and within a few seconds had his fangs at his throat.
Darge hissed, “No one calls her Bala except me.” Embala rammed into his side. She helped him up. Marka was startled, having had the wind knocked out of him.
“As for the necklace, I love the one I have. Darge gave it to me. And, if you ever call me Bala again I will personally see to it that Darge rips your throat out.”
Marka looked at Darge’s thick arms and gulped. “Friends?” he held his paw out. Darge considered it for a moment than shook it a little harder than necessary. When Darge released his paw Marka flexed his fingers and winced.
Darge curled up near the fire, resting his tail over his nose. Embala lay down next to him and patted the ground beside her. Marka eyed Darge then slept on the other side of the fire.
“Wake up, I’ve got food,” Marka’s voice rung out in the camp. Embala stretched, arching her back like a cat. The oily smell of fish roused Darge from his deep slumber. Marka landed in the clearing with three large trout hanging from his beak. Embala took the one he offered and laid it over the warm coals on a bed of leaves.
“Are you cooking that fish?”
“She does it whenever she can. Don’t worry.”
“Um, okay. Doesn’t it taste strange? I think cooked meat tastes like warm jerky”
“It doesn’t if you only brown it,” she explained, finishing the last of her fish. He gave her an odd look and picked his remainder off the tiny bones.
“Come on, the village is this way.” He ran up the trail. Darge and Embala stared at each other.
Darge sighed, “Let’s go.”
“Wait up Marka.” Embala caught his shoulder. “We can’t just walk up and go through the gate. We’re not members of the army and I don’t want to join anytime soon.”
“I thought Darge could think of something when we get there. I usually go in with a large group, but to do that we’d have to wait until noon.” Embala and Marka waited for Darge to have an idea.
“I can say you’re my mate and Marka is a prisoner. I am a white tiger.”
“No you’re not.” Marka was confused.
“But I can pass for one.” He grinned slyly.
“Just keep your tail down and they’ll never know the difference,” she agreed.
“I told you my plan would work.”
“What plan?”
“My plan to get Darge to plan.”
“I actually understood that.” Darge laughed at Embala’s expression when she said this.
Along the trail robins sang and squirrels darted between the pine trees.
“It’s only a little ways down the road now.” Marka walked in front with his head down and Darge stepped directly behind him as Embala walked closer to his side than before.
The gate was two blocks of hard wood held to the frame with ropes. The fence that lined the city was tall but the wood was weak and rotting. The bears stood guard with their swords barring entry to the doors. Their black fur was dull with grime.
Darge cleared his throat. “I demand access.”
“Why should we let you through, pup?”
His responding voice grew in fury as he spoke, “I am a soldier of the king’s army and if you do not let us into this puny town I will have it burned to the ground.”
They moved the swords and let them pass without a word.
The village was made up of houses and stores built out of an odd combination of wood, twigs, and straw. They were the kind of houses that swayed in the hard wind but did not fall.
“This way,” Marka tugged them along into what must be a shop because it had a sign out front that read: Gold Piece’s jewelry and gold pieces.
Inside it smelled of salt water and cedar. A fox stood behind a wooden counter with trinkets spread in front of him. He was a warm brown color with paws a dark, almost black chocolate and a white patch of fur marked his chest. Around his waist was strapped a long sword that gave him a pirate like look. His most unusual feature was a gold earring that dangled from his ear lobe and glinted in the light from the glassless windows. (Glass was hard to make and very expensive these days)
“G.P. at your serv- Marka, you old bird how’d ja get in this time?” His voice was that of a salty sea dog, through and through.
“Darge’s idea.” He gestured toward Darge.
He came around the counter and studied Darge. Then he shook Darge’s paw.
“You got a powerful body. And a quick mind to get you and ya friends in here like ‘at.” He winked at Embala, “And might I say, a good lookin’ lass.”
Embala looked at Darge. It was his turn to explain.
“She’s not my…whatever you said…I mean…we’re just friends.”
Embala let out an internal sigh. At least he tried to explain.
”What he means is: we’re friends and nothing more.”
“Hmm. Are ye sure? I’ve never been wrong about these things before.”
Darge and Embala took a long look at each other.
“Positive,” they both said at the same time. They burst out laughing together.
“Why are you here?” G.P. asked when their giggles died down.
“I want to know about my father.”
“I may know him. What be his name?”
“Bloodfang.”
He grew very quiet. After what seemed to be an eternity he finally spoke in a whisper, “You’re his daughter?”
She removed the sword and the ruby blade seemed to glow with power.
He nodded.
“That’s his sword, alright. Your father was a great man. He protected his people till the end.” He bowed his head in respect. “If anyone can tell ya what you wanna know, it’s Falnu. She’s locked in the dungeon with the other dragons. But, I’m afraid I have no idea where it is. Ask in the next town over. But for heaven’s sake, don’t let the any of the soldiers hear you.”
Falnu was the queen of the dragons and the rightful ruler of Flyergen. Dragons had always ruled. They felt the pain of their people. Amellia had once said that if anyone died in the kingdom you could hear the ruler’s screams of agony across the land. This made them caring kings and queens and their years made them wise.
“G.P. how do you know my father?”
“How do ya think I got my nickname?” he flicked his earring. “I helped him and he gave me a piece of gold. I melted it down into this. He said, ‘Your name does not fit you. Perhaps Erobby, It means friend of the sea dragons. You are worthy of such a name. You shall always be a friend to them and us as well. Thank you for helping our cousins.’ I told him I’d use the gold to change my name.”
“What did he mean by ‘us’?” Darge inquired before Embala could.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. It seems you don’t already know so you must find out for yourselves.” He smiled apologetically.
Embala sighed. “Thank you for your help, G.P. You’re kind to help strangers.”
“It wasn’t strangers I was helpin’. We’ve met before, but you were still in ya ma. Tell her G.P. said, ‘The fleas be bitin’. The dogs be fightin.’ She’ll understand.”
“Bye G.P., if there’s ever anything you need, just ask,” Darge whispered to him as the others left.
“If something doesn’t change soon I may have to take ya up on that.”
Darge blinked against the sun. He tried to see Embala and Marka but people kept bumping into him and pushing him. Uh! I can’t stand this. Where are they?
“Darge, over here!” Thank goodness, it’s Bala.
She was crouched down behind a building. “I hate this place.”
Embala sympathized, “I think my nose is going to burn off.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re complaining about. Most villages are this way when it’s busy. You have no social skills.” Marka was risking his feathers by saying this.
“I have plenty social skills. This is my first time in a town that’s all,” she defended.
“S-u-r-e.” He drug the word out like he was speaking to someone who was mentally disabled.
She growled and bared her fangs. He pressed himself against a wall. Her claws unsheathed. She snarled again, her tongue lashing between her teeth. Then she leapt into the air and… landed on Marka without leaving a scratch.
“You just sheathed your claws mid leap. I thought you were going to kill me for questioning your people skills.”
She rolled off him and sprang to her paws in one fluid motion.
“I would never, but it would be ironic if I did.” She laughed again then hoisted herself to her back legs.
“So, where is the nearest sword shop?” Darge asked.
“We’re hiding behind it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“You go on in, I’ll wait out front.” Embala smiled kindly.
“Yeah, okay.” He found a smile playing across his face without realizing it. It was so natural. He turned around and almost skipped to the store front.
Embala knew him well enough she knew he was doing his best to not skip. She laughed then followed behind him. He went inside and she leaned against the wall, looking out at the animals passing by.
Soldiers made up the majority but those that were too young, sick, or old wandered past, free from fighting and warfare. Then there were the lucky ones that lived wild. They never thought to walk upright. They never shopped or fought with weapons. They lived a simpler, sometimes harsher, life. Living a life without speech, but still communicating with one another, hunting when needed, mating and having cubs in spring, teaching those cubs to survive. They went through their whole lives without facing war or worrying about being stabbed in their sleep. Sure, there was bloodshed, but it was only claws and fangs against claws and fangs.
They have no idea how lucky they are. She sighed. Their lives are so simple: hunt, eat, mate, teach, eat, hunt. I wish could have been like that for me. Then again, if I had lived like that I wouldn’t have met Darge. She smiled to herself. On second thought, it’s not worth it. To be wild is to be without someone I care about, to be without my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without Darge.
“Bala,” Darge whispered into her right ear. She jumped. She hadn’t smelt him coming because she hadn’t been paying attention.
“Geez, just sneak up on somebody.”
“Sorry. I got a sword.” He held up a polished blade made of something she couldn’t identify. No, not steel. It doesn’t look like metal.
“What’s it made of?”
He leaned close to her and whispered, “White…white dragon scales. It will never break or scratch.”
“Aren’t those illegal?”
“He’s a friend of G.P.’s. He asked if I came to visit someone and I said that G.P. was an old friend, then he took me to a back room full of swords like this.”She grew wide-eyed and speechless. “I know. That’s what I looked like when I saw them.” He laughed a little.
Embala shook her head. “Come on and let’s not tell Marka.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
She frowned at him.
“Sorree,” he mumbled.
“Am I the subject of another fight?” Marka asked from beside them. They turned and saw him and G.P. waiting for them.
“I thought I’d walk ya to the gate.” G.P. offered.
“We’re not fighting, just a slight difference in opinion.” Embala verified.
“Onward, conquerin’ heroes,” he teased in a low volume as he walked them to the back gate, “off to face and destroy king Thorat.”
Embala thought it impossible but Darge’s skin underneath his fur, that usually turned red when embarrassed, now turned paler than ever. his voice was quiet as he asked, “What did you say?”
“I said king Thorat. Taka died a while back, but unfortunately his son is just as corrupt.” The doors closed, blocking their view of the pirate fox.
A trail lead farther away, dug deep into the ground by cart wheels and many paws.
As they walked silence enveloped them. Embala was the first to break the quiet, “Darge are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve hated my father since I was old enough to realize he abandon me,” he answered coldly.
Marka stopped dead in his tracks. “What!? You have to be kidding. There’s no way you’re Taka’s son.” He faced Darge, “who are you Darge?”
Darge averted his gaze but Marka moved and forced Darge to look him in the eye.
“I am not my father’s son.” He said sternly and without emotion.
III
Lazy
They walked until early afternoon turned into sunset. They began to set up for the night. Their packs had gotten heaver with the long day. Together they choose an area surrounded by tall trees closely knitted together to form a protecting circle.
“According to what G.P. said if we get going right after sunset we’ll be in and out of the next town by sundown. Maybe by the time we leave we will know where the dungeon is.” She yawned in the firelight.
Darge awoke later that night to Embala’s tail leaving the clearing behind her. Darge followed silently making sure not to wake Marka. Strange bushes began to replace the green ferns, and then they became greater in number. She jumped over a large bush spotted with bright red berries. He pushed his way through the shrub.
The grass was bright green and the river sparkled. The moon was full and bathed everything in a cool silver light. The wind gusted, blowing their fur around.
This happened whenever the wind blew hard. The urge to leap into the air was unbearable to resist. The wind called to Embala like a phoenix to flames. Darge always worried that one day the wind would call her and she’d run out and be caught by soldiers. Luckily, it hadn’t happened yet.
She jumped around in the wind like a fawn. When she saw him she bounded near him and nipped his ear, waiting for him to follow. He chased her. Every time he got close she jumped away until he had to leap around the clearing, mimicking her.
They began to laugh gleefully. All Darge’s worries disappeared, like the wind had blown them away. Is this how Bala feels when she jumps in the wind?
She playfully knocked him over and pinned him to the ground. He lay flat on his back as she loomed over him on all fours, “It’s like we’re pups again.” Darge lifted his head up and lightly tugged on her ear. “Cut it out Darge.”
She sighed happily and rolled to lie beside him. The moon smiled down and the stars danced in the dark sky. “Look, it’s Orion.” He pointed to a grouping of bright lights.
She scooted closer into his fur. He angled her head toward him and gave her a puzzled look. “It’s cold.” She explained. He released his grip on her face. It was chilly.
The fall air gusted again and she shivered, shaking him. He yawned greatly. “I guess we have to walk back to camp,” she said sleepily.
“We don’t have to. Marka won’t be up for a bit.”
“I’d like that.” She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. He smiled and made himself more comfortable.////
So what do you people think? Any responses please.