The Winds of Crowns and Wolves

by K. E. Walter

  He passed through what must have been hundreds of homes before he arrived at a significantly larger building. It was constructed from the same materials as the rest of the homes that surrounded it, only it was about four times the size. As his eyes fell upon the distinctive marker at its peak, a smile erupted across the breadth of his face.

  Emblazoned on a large piece of wood that was carved into the shape of a shield was the crest of the House Goedwig. Its vibrant color scheme provided a stark contrast to the drab browns and grays of the wood smoke and timber.

  Neach broke Rine into a trot and they slowed as they approached the entrance to the large structure. Outside, a man waited with an axe in his hand. He couldn’t have been much older than Neach, if not for the jet black beard which was protruding from his jaw line. The contours of his muscles were on display in his sleeveless shirt, and his hair was tied back in a ponytail and braided.

  For Neach, the sight was both welcoming and frightening. Even though there appeared to be little difference in their age, the young man proved to have a daunting physical figure and tenacity in his stature.

  “What brings you here, sire?” asked the young man.

  “I recognized the crest from afar, I believe we are brothers,” Neach replied.

  “Ah, yes, Fenris had sent word that you may be arriving here in the coming days. Neach, isn’t it?” The young man inquired.

  “Indeed it is, I have been travelling for quite some time, would you mind if I stopped here for a short time?” Neach asked.

  With a glance to his right, the young man nodded and opened the massive wooden doors to the home. As Neach entered, he patted Rine on the shoulder and turned his gaze toward the interior of the lodging.

  XIII

  “The name is Tyrin,” the now named young man said.

  Tyrin was an especially impressive physical specimen. He lacked the size that would be expected of a warrior, but what muscle he did have appeared to be completely refined. Neach had only been working at his physical side of fighting for a few weeks, and the insecurity had already begun to creep in.

  His hair appeared to have been laced with soot, and his face bore the dirt marks of a man who worked long days. His jaw bulged out and resulted in a consistent demeanor of authority.

  “I assume you are aware of our situation, Neach,” Tyrin asked the new member as he sat down on an ornately carved wooden chair that was located in the center of a room that was adjoined to the initial entrance space.

  “Yes, I am,” Neach replied timidly.

  “Then I suppose you may be curious as to why I would choose to identify myself with the crest on the outside of the building, correct?” Tyrin again asked intent upon receiving an answer of his choosing.

  In full honesty, Neach hadn’t had time to contemplate in the slightest the placement of the crest high above the door frame, but when it was mentioned it seemed to make sense.

  “That crest is worth my life, brother, and you’d do your best to either contribute to the cause or stay out of our damned way. They have come recently; nothing will stop them from coming in the near future. If you aren’t going to be of assistance, I suggest you stay out of sight,” Tyrin stated aggressively.

  It became immediately apparent to Neach that something had soured this relationship before it had even begun; surely two men around the same age as each other could get on fairly well. Without the slightest thought, Neach asked the question that had saturated his mind.

  “Do you have a problem with me?” Neach asked with a new found authority.

  Tyrin smiled as if to say that he approved of the confidence required to approach him with that tone.

  “We do, Neach. You see, I and the other brothers of this House have been training since our birth to carry out the duties that are required of us. We have shed blood for that crest, both our own and other people’s. It does not come without a large price and you-you appear out of nothing, a few weeks ago, and are entrusted as a full member of this legion,” Tyrin concluded.

  Neach wasn’t sure how to respond, but he knew he would have to use caution as to not create an even larger rift with his fellow brother.

  “With the deserved respect intact, Tyrin, I have abandoned the life that I once led, in order to serve this House. My commitment and my deserved position is not something I have decided for myself. If you have a problem, you should consult someone of a higher position of authority than me,” Neach said as he stood up from the table they were sat at.

  Tyrin looked on with a burning gaze and rose simultaneously. Without any warning, he grabbed Neach by the shirt collar and threw him against the wall.

  “You think you can just come into my house and speak with such disdain? I am your brother, we are one,” Tyrin said as he released Neach from his iron grip.

  “Maybe you should consider reading from the damned ‘book’ a little more. It would do you much good,” Tyrin stated angrily as he left the room.

  Neach stood motionless for a few moments before gathering his breath again. The warm afternoon air beckoned his name

  He took a step outside and breathed in deeply. The last few weeks had been nothing but difficult since his departure from Spleuchan Sonse. For the first time, he longed for the solace of his bed at home in his village. He yearned for a celebration at the hall like they had when he came of age. He missed his parents and yes, he even missed his wretched, unfettered, malice-ridden brother.

  A stump outside of the house was the resting place for Neach’s hind, as he sat beneath the shade of a large fir. Its overhang provided relief from the beating sun that he had ridden into the village behind.

  Neach watched as the populous of Jorwel meandered about their homes. Their faces were laden with soot, and their eyes grew wide as they struggled to continue moving. It was evident that their physically demanding lifestyle took its toll upon each member of the community.

  Men carried logs on their shoulders and women carried buckets of sap. The pragmatic application of the trees’ every organ was essential to the flourishing of the town. What struck Neach the most about the town was its size compared to Spleuchan Sonse. Whereas Spleuchan Sonse was made of a small collection of huts, the town of Jorwel seemed to be littered with homes as far as the eye could see. Its proximity to fertile land in the east, the river on the west, and the forest to its south, provided it with a trident of applicable resources.

  It appeared they lived simple lives, although demanding, and Neach couldn’t help but find solace in the late afternoon heat. He slumped further down the stump until his hind side hit solid ground. Sweat had begun to form above his brow and he wiped it with the tattered right portion of his sleeve.

  He managed to make it for nearly half an hour before he contemplated the ramifications of his earlier encounter with Tyrin.

  The harsh tone in his voice, coupled with his aggressively physical nature concerned Neach. He hadn’t laid hands on anyone in a malicious manner since he was at home with his brother. Now, his new “brother” felt that he had the liberty to throw him about as if he were a sack of vegetables.

  He wondered what he should do.

  The sun beat down without reprise, singing his skin beneath its ethereal luminescence. Soon he would need to return inside, but for now he would bask in the heat of the day and hope that Tyrin would come to find him.

  Surely enough, moments later, Tyrin exited the house and headed in the direction of Neach.

  “Come with me,” Tyrin ordered.

  Neach was taken aback by the command, but he obliged and stood at once.

  Tyrin continued without a cease in his steps toward the back of his home. It sat along a river and there were blocks of wood that were rested with axe blades driven deep into their wooded flesh.

  “You are to split these blocks and then come find me,” Tyrin barked once again.

  Neach nodded without speaking a word, afraid to say the wrong thing and further drive a wedge between himself and his brother.

  H
e had never split wood before, but he had seen his father do it. Asgall would spend the early hours of the day splitting logs for firewood and house repairs.

  The young man from Spleuchan Sonse hearkened back upon his village upbringing as he brought the heavy axe down into the thick haunch of forestery.

  Each repetitive thud aligned itself in congruence with his heartbeat. His pulsating veins came in time with the blows and a sweet harmony of physical exacerbation was played. The task was continued for a few minutes and eventually all of the wood was split into two pieces, useful for efficient application of the raw material in the home.

  As he placed the final log onto the stump, Tyrin came around the corner of the home to check on Neach’s progress.

  “When you’re done, come see me inside, okay?” Tyrin asked timidly. His demeanor had obviously changed from their initial meeting as his angry disposition was replaced by one of tranquility.

  Neach obliged, yet again, and tossed the axe as he headed toward the back entrance of the hut.

  When he entered, he smelled the scent of cooking meat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyrin smoking what appeared to be pig flesh. This was a grand gesture to make as meat was a difficult commodity to come by lately.

  “Sit,” commanded Tyrin.

  From the other side of the room, he brought a plate full of food for himself and Neach to enjoy in its totality.

  “Listen, Neach, I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier,” Tyrin said.

  “It’s just, times have gotten tough; we’re all on edge; I live day to day hoping to survive,” Tyrin continued.

  “And now, we’re entrusted with stripping Henrig of all his power, and ensuring that he never step foot on this land again, by death or by exile,” Tyrin concluded in a grim manner.

  Neach nodded for a few moments cautiously before asking a question.

  “So, what is it we’re meant to do exactly?” Neach asked.

  Tyrin chuckled. “Isn’t that a good question? From my understanding, you are meant to infiltrate the castle and we will go from there.” The smile dissipated from his face in seconds. His once resounding smile was replaced by a decreasing grin.

  Of course, Neach was already aware of this despondent task. Fenris had informed him following his training on Rosalia that he was to head to Leirwold to infiltrate the King’s residence.

  Suddenly, Neach changed the tone of the conversation.

  “I heard there’s a forest around here,” he said softly.

  Tyrin’s smile returned as he chewed on a large piece of pork.

  “Indeed there is,” his teeth showing, “just south of town,” he finished with a wry grin.

  “Maybe we could go there after the meal?” Neach offered.

  It was as if all the muscles in Tyrin’s body relaxed, as his smile continued to maintain residence on his face.

  “That would be perfect; the forest is my favorite place to escape to,” Tyrin stated, in what sounded like an octave higher of a voice.

  As Neach placed the last piece of meat into his mouth, he rose from the table and followed Tyrin out the back door.

  The sun was beginning to set, and it sat just above the mountains that lie due west of the town. Tyrin’s shadow fell long at his side as he strode south toward the forest. From afar, the tall tree line seemed fairly miniscule along the horizon, and their thick green leaves blew in the stiff wind.

  On foot, it took only a few minutes to reach the entrance of the wooded area. From the outside, it seemed to lack impressive features, simply a collection of large plants in a land that was fertile with wildlife. Upon entering into its clutches, Neach quickly found out that he was mistaken.

  The ground was lined with glowing flowers that seemed to be something out of a work of fiction. Their luminescent bodies cast a blue light on the path that was carved between two trees. Though the forest was in possession of a thick canopy like that of the woods on Rosalia, its interior shone bright with the effervescence of hundreds of thousands of glowing plants.

  Tyrin stroked the trunk of a tree as he stopped in his tracks, gazing off into the distance.

  “They call this the Forest of Light, Neach. It’s where I come in times of trouble,” Tyrin said softly.

  His voice and demeanor had become much calmer after the initial falling out upon Neach’s arrival, and Neach was glad to be interacting with his ‘brother’ in a benevolent manner.

  As he spun around, deep inside the magical depths of the forest, Neach felt invigorated. It was as if all the energy of the sun had been dispersed as happiness into his bones, and it now emanated in his upbeat movement.

  Looking around the forest was almost like peering up at the night sky on a clear evening. Each individual plant acted as a star in an ever expanding nebula of flora.

  Tyrin began to walk slowly again and beckoned for Neach to follow behind him. Through vines and over rotted tree carcasses, the men travelled further southward toward the heart of the forest. Moss grew upon every trunk, and it glowed green with the blue-white light that was given off by the various fungi and plants.

  Before long they reached a dark lagoon nestled deep in the catacomb-like pathways of the forest. Its water was a deep blue, almost violet, and it was completely still. On the banks of the pool, Tyrin sat and gazed out across the water.

  “Welcome to my happy place, Neach,” Tyrin said.

  The violet water reflected the glowing plants, as well as something that Neach had never seen before. Floating just above the water, small, glowing, insect-like creatures were buzzing about. Everything that was occurring around him led him to believe that he had entered a dream. There was no way that any of this could be possible. They weren’t far from his home village, and it appeared to be a completely different world.

  As Neach sat, contemplating the curious nature of the creatures inside of the forest, Tyrin whistled five notes softly.

  With each note, a collection of the glowing insects caromed toward the muscular man. He lent a hand to the air, and these creatures landed atop it.

  Neach rose to his feet, startled, and asked what these animals were.

  “They’re not animals, they are fairies,” Tyrin said mysteriously.

  Neach couldn’t believe what was he was hearing. For his entire childhood, his parents had told him stories of fairies that spent their time in the forests of Duncairn and maintained the balance between humanity and nature. As he saw them before his own eyes, he understood their influence over the people of the Kingdom. Watching such a stoic young man be brought to his utmost serenity showed how powerful the fairies were.

  “Before people, these fairies ruled the wood. They lived in harmony with the forest, and the forest existed happily. Now, we harvest timber from this very land and, in return, make sacrifices to these small creatures in the hopes that they will maintain this ethereal piece of woods for as long as possible,” Tyrin concluded.

  Neach had to catch his breath before replying to the outlandish comments that Tyrin had just made. Alas, a part of him felt at peace, and he believed every word of it.

  “They’re beautiful, are there many of them?” Neach inquired.

  Tyrin chuckled softly before responding to Neach’s question.

  “You must not get out of your village much, Neach; they are the rulers of the wooded realm. They call the Forest of Light their home primarily, but they exist elsewhere. As far as we know, they do not possess a written or spoken language, but they exist in harmony with each other and the world around them. Perhaps we should take heed from their behavior,” Tyrin said with a tired look upon his face. The wrinkles beneath his eyes showed the pain that he had suffered recently. Neach could only assume it was a death, or perhaps he was distraught about the conflict that loomed on the horizon in Leirwold.