Destiny

by Jason A. Cheek

  Until now, Lúthien had never fully understood the hushed reverence the Elders of her people held for the Paladins of Klavika. Throughout her life, she’d grown up with the incredible tales of how the Holy Klavikian Paladins had allowed the beleaguered Alliance Armies to hold against the endless hordes invading their lands, mostly from her brother whenever he came home to visit from the war. For the greater part of her life, Lúthien’s dreams had been filled with the heroic deeds of the Paladin Ilmarinen Ironwolf and his She-Wolf companion, Novastar.

  Nevertheless, even though she’d repeatedly heard about the incredible feats of healing that had saved the armies from annihilation time after time. Nothing could have prepared her for the emotional impact of being brought back to life from the brink of death until she’d experienced the sensation for herself. It felt as if a part of her had been reborn.

  Taking deep, ragged breaths, Lúthien held her eyes squeezed shut as she heard the heavy clopping tread of approaching hooves and the familiar loud clanking sounds of Wolf Gauntlets transforming. Her body stiffened as thick muscular arms gently wrap around her torso. For a moment, Lúthien thought her beating heart was going to explode out of her chest as she fought to control the overwhelming emotions running through her heart, when the dam suddenly broke with a soul-wrenching cry. Burying her face in the fine soft fur she remembered so well, Lúthien’s small hands held the powerful biceps with a death grip as her body shook with each ragged sob. Slowly she felt the strong arms tenderly gather her up, before crushing her against the hard tinnearlian breastplate as Tiberius’ deep rumbling baritone spoke softly into her ear.

  “Everything is going to be good, Boo.” The thudding of her heart slowly began to settle down as he gently rocked her back and forth. “I gave you my word I would always do everything within my power to protect you. That will never change.” Pushing back to look up into Tiberius’ dark-brown eyes, Lúthien felt her lips quiver as she regarded his regal ebony face. Tenderly she ran her delicate fingers over the open slashes running down either side of his prominent muzzle. His strong face was so different than that of her own kind.

  Lúthien had always felt so safe in his arms. Her xenophobic people couldn’t see the nobility behind the bestial features of his race, but she knew well the honorable heart that beat in his chest. It still pained her when she remembered the dishonorable treatment Tiberius received in her father’s court after he and his legionnaires had given so much to stop the Tuonellian invaders from overwhelming Daeron Fortress. While the accusations of impropriety leveled against him had been groundless and irrational. It showed an ugly side of her people that she’d never realized existed. Although she had never looked at Tiberius sexually, she had to admit the prince was beautiful in his own right.

  Throughout their time together, Tiberius had never treated her with anything less than respect. Before the charges, Lúthien had never thought of him as a “male” per say. Simply because that had never been the nature of their relationship, but now blushing in his strong arms, she suddenly realized things were distinctly different between them. Unlike her wild cousins, High Elves were forbidden to intermingle with other species, but, taboo or not, she couldn’t deny the raw emotions running through her beating heart.

  From the very first day they’d met Lúthien had been drawn to him. It was the first time in her life she’d met someone that wasn’t an Elf beside a Wenci. Without hesitation, she had questioned him relentlessly about his homeland as she gawked openly at the large curved horns protruding from his head. To the shock of the entire court, he had laughingly swept her off her tiny feet to place her on his massive shoulders, so she could inspect the horns for herself. From that moment on they were inseparable, to the chagrin of her mother and father, she would follow him wherever he went. Always he was her “Tibus” and she his “Boo”, at least until her peoples’ betrayal.

  Unfortunately, Lúthien had never been allowed to tell her side of the story, before he was banished from their land. She knew the lies had hurt Tiberius deeply. Leaning against his chest Lúthien couldn’t stop herself from shaking. For some reason, her father had used the lie to widen the gap between their two peoples, but even now, after all that had happened, she could never believe her Tibus was here to harm her. Choking back her tears, Lúthien spoke urgently pushing him away.

  “You can’t be here my sweet Tibus. My people will kill you on sight.”

  Feeling Tiberius’ thick fingers gently comb through her long hair, Lúthien’s heart ached at his sad smile. “Even so Boo, I still must speak with the leaders of the Elven Clans.”

  Confusion warred against Lúthien’s emotions as she suddenly remembered the Scourge in legionnaire dress as her words unconsciously turned hard. “Why have you come? Why are Scourge in your ranks? Is the Imperium now aligned against us?”

  Unflustered, Tiberius answered calmly. “My people are not your enemy, nor has the Imperium joined the Horde, but…” Lúthien breath caught in her throat as she saw the raw anguish rise in his eyes. “The Emperor is long dead. In his place now sits a Hulk that wears my father’s face like a mask.”

  Before she could begin speaking of her own tragedy, a sharp exclamation of excitement from one of Tiberius’ Bulls cut her off. “Sire, the Paladin yet lives!”

  Immediately, Lúthien was swept off her feet as Tiberius effortlessly rose to his hooves. In three great strides, he reached the mutilated body that his legionnaires stood around in a half circle. Warily they stood back out of the range of the angrily Wild Elf and Centaur that stood protectively over the injured warrior. As soon as they broke through the circle, Lúthien heard Enelya’s hiss of anger as Argus’ rumbling growl sounded behind her. For a second she was taken aback by the savage look on her cousin’s face.

  “I said stand back!”

  “Enelya, these Minotaurs are not our enemies!” Springing out of Tiberius’ arms Lúthien launched herself at her cousin emphasizing her words with her hands waving excitedly. “The Emperor has been replaced by a Tuonellian Hulk. Don’t you realize what that means?” Seeing Enelya’s hesitation, Lúthien spoke in a rush of words. “He has come to ask our people for help.”

  For a long second, no one around the circle spoke. Surprisingly enough, even the Centaur seemed to pause to consider Lúthien’s words instead of blindly attacking as her kind were prone to do when threatened. Before they could respond the discussion was suddenly put on hold by a weak moan at their feet. Her mistrust momentarily forgotten, Enelya dropped to her knees in consternation beside the Paladin’s ruined body as Lúthien and Tiberius silently joined her.

  To Lúthien’s shock, the Klavikian’s face looked little more than raw shredded meat. How anything could survive such severe injuries was beyond her comprehension. Looking sidelong at Tiberius, she could see the same thoughts reflected in his wide eyes.

  When the holy energy had washed across the battlefield in its healing wave, the Scourge had immediately charged the wounded Paladin in a blind rage. Before the rest of them could come to the Klavikian’s aid, the Scourge had ripped the warrior to shreds, or at least, that is what she initially thought had happened. Now as Lúthien focused her senses she could feel the weak aura of energy emanating from the ravaged body before her. Unbelievably he still lived.

  “Aaaiiieee!” Lúthien screamed falling backward in shocked surprise as one of the warrior’s hands shot out to grip Enelya’s shoulders firmly. Incredulously, the Paladin’s ravaged face turned towards her cousin as his voice rasped out in a hoarse plea.

  “The girls, you must save them!”

  ***

  Location Irlendria / Enelya Tasartir:

  It took an inordinate amount of Enelya’s remaining strength to hold herself erect on Argus’ back as they slowly led their charges back to the Clan’s domain. Through their shared link she felt her soulmate’s bone weary exhaustion as Argus stolidly put one clawed paw in front of the other showing no outward signs of his fatigue. Looking back over her shoulder, Enelya saw the same
weariness reflected in the different faces of their party following behind. Bloody and bruised they were a sorry sight; not that she and Argus looked any better. Still, like any predator, neither one of them wished to display their weakness in front of the others.

  Directly behind her came Tiberius with Lúthien gently cradled in his thick muscular arms, silently plodding along with her cousin’s head resting against his broad chest as she moaned semi-conscious in a feverish haze. Enelya knew in time her cousin would recover, but for now, she just needed food and rest for her body to mend from the massive amounts of energy she’d expended during the battle.

  Behind Tiberius limped a small black-furred bull struggling under the weight of a much larger legionnaire. Although both Minotaurs were injured, it was the smaller one that bore the brunt of the burden. Dark blood matted the male’s black fur from deep gouges where the Scourge had managed to rake their claws under his breastplate during the vicious fighting. Older scars crisscrossed his prominent face and broad neck marking him as a veteran of the Great War against the Tuonellians. Ignoring the painful wounds the bull silently supported his injured companion as he followed his liege. Further, behind them came the strained faces of the last two Minotaurs. Bloody and torn the legionnaires numbly followed carrying the battered body of the paladin hanging in-between their armored shoulders.

  Unbelievably, Enelya still felt the breath catch in her throat as she looked at the Klavikian’s shredded face. Angrily she tried to push the intense emotions from her mind. By Clan law, she and Argus owed him their lives, but not this. It was unconscionable that her heart responded to him in the way it did, but that didn’t change the truth of what she felt. In that endless moment the Great Spirit had linked them together, Enelya had tasted the terrible beauty and loneliness that was the very essence of his soul. Obviously, that brief touch had affected her in more ways than she had ever thought possible. With an effort of will, Enelya forced her eyes away from the Paladin, focusing instead on Nessa’s alert face bringing up the rear of their impromptu group. The Centaur was the only one of them that seemed unaffected by the day’s events. Effortlessly she carried the two unconscious girls that had been with the Paladin strapped to her bare back as she continuously scanned the forest around them wary of pursuit.

  Although she was older now, Enelya had immediately recognized Nessa from the moment she’d seen her charge the Hulk. Like a ghost from the past, the Centaur’s shockingly beautiful face uncovered old wounds Enelya had thought were long buried. Not ready to face the past either, she began turning away when Enelya felt the weight of Nessa’s stare.

  Meeting those dark, sensual eyes Enelya shivered at the storm of confused memories that came flooding back to her. Even after all of this time, it was as if she could still read Nessa’s thoughts. Although they’d never had much time together as lovers, she would never forget the heat of that first sweet kiss. Even after all of these years, it was as if she could feel the power of that spiritual connection as if they’d never been truly apart. Tearing her gaze away from the beautiful filly, Enelya forced her eyes to the trail ahead of them. Still, against her wishes, Enelya’s mind returned to that dark place and time so many years ago when she’d first met Nessa.

  During the onset of the invasion, the terror had been overwhelming. They had all heard of the gruesome fate that had befallen the Gorgoneans and the mass slaughter of civilians within the cities of the Imperium that had fallen to the invaders. Nessa’s Tribe had been cut off from the rest of her people and had been forced to flee before the oncoming Tuonellian advance. The gates of the Daeron Fortress had barely closed when the first wave of the Horde broke against the outer defenses. Throughout the terrible siege, the Elves had hidden the young of both races deep within the bowels of the ancient fortress as the entire Alliance rallied to their aid.

  Day and night the walls had shivered from constant bombardment. After the first week, Enelya had thought she would go mad from the confined space closing in around her. She was used to the freedom of the forest and the open sky high above her, not the oppressive confines of a dark dungeon. Quickly the lifeless walls had become a never ending nightmare to her. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Nessa had tenderly gathered her up into her strong arms. It was as she instinctively knew how to make the fear go away.

  Maybe it was the horrors of the war that had made those intimate moments so precious beyond compare, but, whatever it was, she had never wanted to let Nessa go. The soft curve of her breasts, the taste of her lips … Grimacing, Enelya pushed the intruding thoughts away. Even now she could clearly remember the reaction of the Elves that had been assigned to watch over them once they’d learned the truth of all that had transpired. To say it was scandalous didn’t even come close to describing the gaping rift that had instantly formed between her people and the rest of the Clans.

  For centuries, Enelya’s people had followed their divergent path to the disdain of the other Elves, but her one act of intimacy with Nessa had brought everything from the past bubbling to the surface in a xenophobic explosion of boiling hate. Her peoples’ lack of prejudice against the other races of Irlendria had only made the situation that much worse. To Enelya’s horror, even the most open-minded of their brethren had accused her Clan of being little better than the savage beasts they spirit bonded with.

  Unfortunately, the incident had only further served to cut the bonds between the Clans even further. Not that Enelya’s Spirit Mother had particularly cared one way or another by the time the Council of Elders had met to discuss the issue. The Clan’s outrage at the treatment of their princess had nearly started a war. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t been fighting for their lives against the invading Hordes striving to destroy their homeland.

  Sadly, Enelya never had another chance to talk with her first love after they’d been discovered. Nessa’s father had whisked her back to the plains of their people shortly after the Tuonellians had been driven from the Great Forest. Even then, Enelya had still felt the connection between them, but over the years, the spirit bond had slowly faded away. By the time she’d bonded with Argus, those feelings had become all but a distant memory.

  Taking a deep breath Enelya was finally able to lock the overwhelming emotions away once again. Obviously, she still had strong feelings for the beautiful filly, but no matter what she might have wished could have been, there was no time to explore those feelings now. Her unspoken vow to the Klavikian came first. Enelya’s thoughts were suddenly brought up short as a mental voice rang in her head.

 

  Focusing once more on her surroundings, Enelya realized they were already passing through the totems that marked the outer boundaries of the Clan’s lands. Normally she would have breathed a sigh of relief upon entering her people’s territory, but in the fading light she felt little comfort from the grim visages looking down at her as the first sounds of pursuit came to hear hypersensitive ears.

  A quick glance behind her let Enelya know that no one else was aware that they were being followed. Not that it came as a surprise to her. If not for her spirit link with Argus and the shared abilities it gave her, she would have been just as ignorant of the threat as the rest of their party. As the wind shifted direction, Enelya’s eyes dangerously narrowed as she picked up the scent of many hesturs from further up the trail. Feeling Argus’ muscles suddenly tense from where she sat on his back, Enelya gently laid her hands on his sleek neck sharing her growing concerns with her soulmate. Trespassing with such a large force could mean only one thing.

  Although the finer subtleties of Elven politics were usually incomprehensible to the direct minded Wenci, being apex predators they intuitively understood the complexities of territorial challenges from other packs. Growling deep in his chest, Argus came to an abrupt stop as Enelya smoothly slid off his back next to him. Rising to his hind legs Argus arched his neck calling out a series of high-pitched chirps. Barely louder than a birdcall t
he sound radiated throughout the forest around them. After repeating the call for a third time, he slowly lowered himself into a crouch next to Enelya as the hackles rose along his spine.

  No translation was needed as Enelya’s charges abruptly stopped behind her in consternation. Although, she was surprised a second later when Tiberius stepped up beside her without hesitation as his legionnaires immediately took up a defensive stance around the two of them. Flaring their nostrils with each breath, the Minotaurs warily scanned the silent forest as the loud clanking sounds of their Wolf Gauntlets transforming into shields and blades echoed around them.

  At first, they heard nothing, but faintly the approaching sounds of clomping hooves and creak of leather harnesses began to come from every direction. Enelya’s eyes scanned the dark woods guardedly waiting for visual confirmation of the intruders she knew where there. A moment later the dark shapes of hesturs began materializing out of the darkness in groups of ones and twos. Within seconds a solid wall of the creatures surrounded them. On their backs were the dark hooded Rangers of the Forest Clan with their energy bows bent and ready to fire.

  Standing with her back ramrod straight, Enelya’s eyes took on the fierce look of a predator whose territory had been suddenly intruded upon as her gaze coldly swept the wall of mounted Rangers. In a ringing voice, she addressed the group of Elves directly before her stepping forward.

  “You are trespassing in the domain of the Wild Clan. By the command of the Spirit Daughter of Arien Tasartir, lower your weapons and –“

  A wordless shriek of rage cut her off as the lead Elf drove his mount at Enelya screaming in hate. “You betray your own people and have the audacity to issue threats when caught red-handed in your treachery? Shut your beast loving mouth before I end your miserable life!” Feeling Argus’ blinding rage through their link, Enelya placed her hand on his shoulder as his muscles tensed to spring.