Aleister suppressed a shudder at the thought of the cold voice urging her to slaughter a now useless tool. It was followed by the voice of Balgeras. The guardian's warning, his promise and his admonitions. The changes he had wrought. The memories ended with her being jolted awake as the connection flared between her and the dying Vander. Kalla withdrew her mind, letting go of his hand. He knew the rest from there, how he had woken with her and she had taken them both to the Hall of Execution.
As Aleister pondered over all he'd been shown, a soft knock came at the door. Kalla opened it and two servants came in, bearing trays of food. They placed them on the table between the chairs and bowed when she thanked them. There were two small, covered plates on one tray. The other held a much larger covered plate, with an empty bowl upturned atop it. Both contained pitchers of spiced fury wine. Seeing her slightly puzzled look, Aleister laughed softly, a sly glint in his eye. He plucked up the bowl and set it in the floor, pouring part of the fury wine into it. He placed the larger plate in the floor beside the bowl, removing the lid as he did so and revealing large steak, cooked rare.
“Wolf he may be, mage he still is. One definitely needing food!” Aleister said by way of explanation.
Said wolf rolled his eyes up at the Sky Fox and his tail swept the floor once. “He is kind. More than I have a right to expect. Please thank him for me,” Vander said, mindvoice tinged with sadness.
“You're quite welcome,” Aleister replied cheerfully. Mage and wolf blinked.
“You can hear me, now?” Vander asked. Aleister nodded.
“It is coming slowly, but I can hear you. Feel you too, but it's different than what I share with Kalla.”
At this the Vander paused and cast his mind inward. He found he could feel the Sky Fox as well, but as the magister had said, the link between them was different.
“I can sense you as well.” The wolf's flame-touched ears drooped. “I would ask your forgiveness as well, Dashtela, for nearly causing your death.”
“What's in the past, is in the past. I'm still here, so no harm done. But what is it that you called me?” Aleister asked.
“Dashtela? You are Kalla's second. That is the proper title for a second. She is alpha, Dashkele.”
“Now that we have the formalities out of the way, can we please eat?” Kalla's voice made both jump. Aleister merely grinned, while Vander favored her with a guilty look. She scowled at both of them and picked up one of the smaller plates.
They passed the meal in a companionable silence, but it was over all too quickly. Aleister called the servants back and they collected the empty dishes. By this point sleep was now tugging at all three and underneath it, the ever present worry about the dreaded summons. As Aleister started to leave, Vander panicked. He looked lost and confused, unsure of where he was supposed to go. The mage could feel that he didn't want to spend what might be the last hours of his life alone again. As he struggled to contain these thoughts, Kalla came to a decision. She would offer him the one thing he'd been denied all of his life- the comfort of a pack, for however brief a time.
“Aleister, shift please.” The mage's voice was different. It once more held the forceful, commanding tone she'd used at the Hall. The Sky Fox frowned, puzzled, but slipped into the kitsune form without question. Beside the flame-colored frost wolf, the russet fox looked much smaller than he actually was. She strode into the sleeping quarters. They stayed where they were until she stuck her head back through the door.
“Well, come on,” Kalla said in an exasperated tone. They looked at her for a moment before the fox warily entered the room. The wolf slunk in after him. She gestured to the bed. “Up. Both of you.”
This time they exchanged a look with one another before turning to stare at her. Her mane fluffed in irritation and the fox jumped up, curling in a ball against the far wall. The wolf gave a whine before following the fox. Kalla sighed as she slipped into the bed and pulled blankets back up over her, taking note of where they were. If her reaction truly stemmed from her own wolf origins, then knowing they were nearby should keep her from lashing out in her sleep.
“Why are we here?” The voice was Aleister's but the thought was shared by both. Beneath that, she could sense Aleister's uncertainty. He remembered all too well that she'd nearly killed him in her sleep.
“Because Vander has nowhere else to go and I'm not going to make him sleep on the floor. You're here because it wouldn't be very fair to make you leave. I think we all need the comfort at the moment.”
She turned emerald eyes on the Sky Fox. “And I know what you're thinking. That shouldn't be a problem since I do know you're here.”
They seemed to accept that as answer enough, or they weren't willing to question the grumpy mage further. The silence stretched out and Kalla was almost asleep when Vander's soft voice pulled her back.
“Dashkele… if they… if they decide to carry out the execution, will you do it? Please?” Fear laced the plea. He didn't want to die, but more than that, he didn't want to die at the hands of a cold, indifferent executioner. The Healer rolled over on her back and patted the covers beside her.
“Come here.”
The wolf hesitated for a moment before shifting position. He pressed against her, pinning the blankets down, and she placed a hand on his head, gently scratching behind one ear. He whimpered, leaning against the touch.
“I intend to do my best to keep that from happening.”
“But if…”
“If they still rule against you, then yes, I will carry it out myself, if that is what you truly wish,” she said.
“It would be much appreciated…” His fear diminished and the wolf was soon asleep as the fox already was. Kalla wasn't long after in drifting off, hand still resting on the wolf's head.
* * *
Kalla woke abruptly, as if a switch had been turned on. Vander was still pressed close beside her, his paws twitching as if he were dreaming. She brushed her hand through his soft fur and he quieted. Kalla noticed that Aleister had moved from his spot against the wall, and was now curled in a tight ball beside the wolf, his brushes covering his muzzle. From the angle of the sun streaming through the windows, Kalla guessed that they had been asleep for several hours. Surely the Sin' would summon them soon.
As if on cue, a knock came at the outer door. Kalla reluctantly climbed out from under the blankets, Vander and Aleister waking at the movement. With a lazy stretch, the fox jumped down, shifting as he did. The wolf's fear spiked again and, almost as an unconscious gesture, the magister offered a comforting touch. The knock came again and Kalla opened the door, revealing Warryn and Shelk. She was surprised that they had sent the Archivist to fetch her. He looked drawn and unhappy.
“Tell me, Warryn.” Her voice was low enough that her words didn't reach the two behind her. Warryn only shook his head sadly.
“They're ready for you now. I offered to come… I thought a familiar face might be more welcome,” he said in a solemn voice. That alone told her how badly things had gone, for it was so unlike the Archivist to be serious for too long. Her face closed down. Somewhere behind her, the frost wolf whimpered, struggling to control his fear. She went to kneel in front of him, pulling his muzzle up so that he looked at her.
“This will not be,” she said. Her voice was controlled calm, but beneath the surface a volcanic pressure was building. “I will not let it.”
The wolf whined again and she pulled him closer, wrapping him in a hug. He felt thin and so very frail as he trembled against her. She waited until he'd mastered his thoughts somewhat, then rose smoothly to her feet. From the door Warryn and Shelk watched with shared looks of sympathy. Kalla faced them.
“Lead on, old friend. Let's get this over with.” For a moment, the Mage had been tempted to teleport the three of them to the Great Spire, but the thought passed as quickly as it came. She needed all of her strength and power to face the coming battle. They started down the hall, Mage and Magister flanking the frost wolf. They made
it all the way to the Solidor courtyard before encountering any problems. Here, unfortunately, a crowd had gathered. Vander pressed against her side as they started through the courtyard, anxiety growing with each step.
They were halfway across when Kalla sensed rather than saw the missile that had been launched at the wolf. The eruption came then, washing over her in a cold fury. From deep within her mind, locks shifted, releasing more power. Time seemed to freeze as she threw a shield around the three of them. The missile, a fist-sized rock, glanced off the shield. Warryn backed away as her power and anger grew. The very air pulsed with it, forcing others to fall back as well. It was an electric sensation, like the high voltage wires of the Artificers' compound, that screamed danger to any who could hear.
Her mind swam as new sensations flooded in. She was inundated with a barrage of scents and sounds and it took her a moment to realize that she was sensing things as the Dashmari did, as the frost wolves did. Kalla inhaled and in that breath she found she could differentiate among the people. She could tell who was Arkaddian, who Rang'moori, who was the strongest magi, who the weakest. A moment more and she could tell individuals. Warryn, who smelled of Rang'moori, but more than that, of sunshine and wheat fields. Shelk, who smelled of ocean salt. Aleister, behind her, whose distinctive Arkaddian scent was mixed with the scent of fox and, oddly enough, of cinnamon and frankincense.
Kalla could smell the fear, heavy in the air, almost tangible. The sound of hammering heartbeats rang in her ears, a frantic ruby-colored sound. A low growl trickled from her throat.
“Who challenges me?” Her voice was soft, but forceful. The crowd rippled and parted, allowing another Dashmari to face her. Dogin, one of the senior Alchemists. His mane was fluffed with agitation, but his ears were ambivalent, his head turned slightly to the side. He wasn't sure how to deal with her. Kalla hadn't been born Dashmari, yet now she was, and a powerful alpha at that.
“You protect the traitor. You draw power from him. It is not natural.” Dogin's voice died away as Kalla laughed, the sound rich in the air. More locks tumbled in her mind and the laughter became laced with a growling.
“Oh, no. This is all me,” said the mage. “But let us set him free and see what happens.” She sent the barest whisper of power over Vander, snapping the cords that bound his power. She pushed more power through him, washing away the frost wolf's fear, his anxiety, his lack of confidence. She took it all away and left him stronger than before.
Vander shook himself, mane starting to fluff as he gathered his power back and sent it spilling over into Kalla, but it was as a river feeding into the ocean. He stalked forward, growling. With a silent command, Kalla bid him stop and he came to a halt in front of her, mane fluffed, ears pricked forward. Dogin stumbled backward, fear and wonder both on his face. His ears wilted and he sank to the ground, twisting his head to bare his throat, acknowledging both as the stronger.
“Dashkele ti'amaraaq,” Dogin breathed, echoing what Vander had called her earlier. Kalla frowned and turned to Aleister. The magister blinked, a surprised look on his face, and for an instant she saw herself as he did. Her irises had bled into the white of her eyes and they glowed with an emerald fire. More than that, a crescent moon marking had appeared on her forehead, just over the spot where a mage's inner eye lay.
Kalla growled as the crowd parted again, this time revealing two of the Sin'- Sevrus and Malik. The magickal disturbance had been enough to bring them hunting the source. Sevrus approached her, outwardly calm, but beneath the still waters, the Sevfahlan mage's scent of autumn apples was laced with fear. The locks had freed great power. She was now stronger than any of the Sin', even the Grand Maester, and they knew it.
“Kalla, what is this?” Sevrus' voice was low and wary, the voice of one caught face to face with a dangerous animal.
“We were attacked. I do not appreciate being attacked,” Kalla responded. “The Sin' ruled to uphold the order of execution, yes.” She made it a fact rather than a question and the look in Sevrus' eyes was answer enough.
“It was voted better to make an example of him,” Sevrus replied.
“Despite the fact that the guardian of Solidor turned his care over to me? And what of the bond between us, Master Sevrus? What of that? It isn't just the two that are linked. It is all three of us. What if, in executing Vander, you killed Aleister as well? Then you would have been the ones carrying out Al'dhumarna's wishes.
“I have told you, he is no longer a threat. Would you punish a knife used to kill someone? No, you would punish the wielder of the knife. Vander was but a tool.” Kalla's words were growled out. Even as she spoke, the locks shifted again, sliding back into place. Sevrus visibly relaxed as her power levels began to ebb. As they did, Kalla felt the confidence slowly leak out of the frost wolf. She deliberately left Vander's power free, as a mark of her trust.
“He is considered too dangerous,” replied the Sevfahlan.
“Master sin'Wyvaldor, she speaks truly. Vander is no longer a danger to any of us.” Kalla and Sevrus turned to Dogin. The Alchemist was still kneeling on the ground. He looked from one to the other, a little uncertainly.
Sevrus gestured towards him.
“Go on.”
“He is Dashmari, Master sin'Wyvaldor. He is … least among the wolves. You would call him an omega. Such wolves seek to find a stronger wolf to protect them. In return they give their unconditional loyalty. It is the same with the Dashmari. Lady Kalla has offered her protection and backed it up. He will do as she says,” Dogin replied.
During this speech, the red frost wolf had sunk to the ground. His paws covered his muzzle and his ears drooped. Whatever confidence he had gained when the locks were open, he'd lost when they closed. Shame and unhappiness flooded the link between wolf and mage.
“He is the second strongest War Mage the Kanlon has!” Sevrus' voice was disbelieving.
“Magickal strength has nothing to do with the strength of one's own feelings of self-worth. It has nothing to do with one's personality,” Kalla said. She knelt beside the red wolf, brushing her fingers through his fur, seeking to ease his mind. “Master Sevrus, Grosso figured out how to use this to his advantage. It was he who chose Vander's course. Had another earned his loyalty and set a different course, he might well have been among the strongest Healers or the strongest Alchemists.” A thought from the wolf caused her to twitch a smile. “Or among the Artificers. My Lord, you have my utmost respect, but in this I will fight.
“Let us leave. A voluntary exile. Neither I nor my magisters will return to the Kanlon. Give us leave and we will depart. I still have a promise to keep to Amaterasu. Correct me if I'm wrong, but none of those the Sin' have sent seeking Xibalba have found entrance, have they?”
Sevrus shook his head and shared another look with Malik. “Kalla kyl'Solidor, you have more forgiveness and understanding than any three people put together.” He sighed heavily. “You would be correct. None sent have found entrance. Most never returned and those that did were insane, to put it lightly, mage and magister alike. Cristos was the last who went, several weeks ago. He has not yet returned.”
The import of the words was not lost on Kalla. Cristos sin'Aerodor was second only to the Grand Maester. If even he could not find entrance to Xibalba, what hope did she have.
“Nevertheless, I have to try. I intend to keep my promise,” Kalla said. Sevrus blinked slowly, taking on the look of one conferring with unseen people. No doubt he was speaking with the other Sin'. Behind him, Malik wore a similar expression. The two shared another silent look before the Sevfahlan spoke again.
“Very well, Kalla. Vander is your responsibility. You are free to leave.” His face softened, the traces of a smile appearing. “If you should survive, you will be welcome here once more. Until we should meet again.” Sevrus bowed, touching fist to heart in a gesture of respect, then turned and strode off, never once looking back.
Xibalba, 'beyond Sikkari', Year of the Mythril Serpent, 2014 CE
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sp; In a vast, gloomy cavern a brooding figure sat on a throne crafted of the interlocking bones of myriad creatures, some of which had not walked the earth in millennia. To all outward appearances the figure looked to be a man, tall, with a flowing mane of silvery hair. Eyes the color of a grey winter sky stared into the distance. Or maybe deep within.
If there had been any others to see, they might have noticed that the figure's countenance changed when looked at side-on, from the corner of the eye. If there had been any to see, they would not have stayed long for they would have found themselves confronted by a terrible apparition, clothed in eldritch light. A great, looming spectral creature, with overlong forelimbs and a head resembling a horse's skull, if ever there was a horse that had sharp teeth. Skeletal wings curled around the body and the eye sockets glowed with a bluish fire. Misty vapor wafted out of the nasal cavern as the being sat lost in thought.
This was Araun, Lord of Living Nightmare and Master of the realm of Xibalba.
For several weeks, mage after mage had attempted to breach the barrier between their world and the lower realm of Xibalba. They had approached places of great power, where the barrier was thinnest and done that which they thought would please the Lord of Living Nightmare, so that they would be allowed access. One had been foolish enough to try and force his way through. Some had made it through the gate, but then there were the guardians to contend with.
None had survived, not intact anyway.
The Lord awaited the one who was coming now. The one in whom he recognized a kindred spirit. If she passed his guardians and passed his test, he would give her what the magi sought, the treasured feather of Ma'at, even though to do so would be to bring about the destruction of one of his own 'children', for Al'dhumarna was a creature crafted of the deepest, darkest fears of humanity.
Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1) Page 13
