The Exiles

by Sven Grams

  Trex had to listen to his friend theorize wildly on how he was going to track down the messenger bird murderer, so exposing the conspiracy to tamper with the message system.

  Soon afterwards, Trex found himself walking back across the courtyard towards his own guest chambers, having just said goodnight to Brekiz.

  Trex arrived back at his small room. Closed the door, he looked around the cramped dark space he knew well, suddenly feeling closed-in by the silence. For some reason Trex felt depressed, but didn’t know why. Sighing to himself, he went to the small open window, the night was still mild, and he leaned on the windowsill to look out towards the sea beyond. Why was he so down? He had a few days free to look forward to and by all accounts had just had a great evening. Still dissatisfied, the youth looked around the room.

  Coming to a snap decision, he grabbed the small table, placing it in front of the window and removed all the items that were on it.

  Much of lion schooling concerned itself with recognizing and controlling emotions, as concentration was so important to their transformation abilities and the ability to resist wolf emotional attack.

  Testing the desk for stability, Trex climbed on. He took a meditative cross-legged position while facing the ocean through the window, his hands held lightly on his knees. It only took a few minutes for the practiced lion youth to clear his thoughts, the rhythmic sounds of the waves helping him along. Satisfied that his mind was cleared of emotions, he started to mull over his current situation.

  What was going on, why was he depressed?

  He knew that he had been dissatisfied for a while, but surely that shouldn’t have brought about the feelings he had just experienced.

  Trex should be happy with his life. The last few days had been the most interesting of his life so far, if a little confusing.

  The young lion knew his future was causing him some trouble, but how was that connected? Surely the last few days should have shown him that his life, if he stayed here, could still be worthwhile. Maybe he could still stay to look after his family.

  Contemplating, he began to realize that he was actually surrounded by many Anthros with interesting challenges… And then it struck him; that was behind the problem, it was the other Anthros that had the challenges, not him.

  Everything that had happened to him in the last few days he had been a participant in. But he was only a side-note in what other wolves and lions were doing.

  Captain Felx was looking after the robbery, even Sara had her own motives and aims, whatever that was, Trex could only guess. Brekiz now had something to do, Trex couldn’t help him with nosing around because he didn’t live in the palace.

  Trex would occasionally hear of interesting things from everyone else but that was all.

  Even his weekly trespass in the council chamber was effectively voyeurism, hearing what others were up to, how their lives were going. At least the thrill of possibly getting caught was always there.

  Over the last year he had done a lot of minor trespassing throughout the city, to test himself as much as anything. But where was that going to lead? Sooner or later he would get caught again, where was any of this going?

  Since he had moved up so many classes he had not really had the opportunity to make, or keep, many close friends. Living were he did didn’t help either. His only close friend at the moment was Brekiz, and that was saying something. Brekiz was a little odd and didn’t have many friends either. Brekiz’s situation was caused partially from the fact that he had only arrived a few years ago and also because he was almost the only youth his age to live within the inner city. At least Brekiz knew what he wanted to do, he was going to study under his Shaman grandfather Katan. Brekiz was already effectively an apprentice, helping the old Shaman in the laboratory as much as he could.

  Trex envied his friend.

  And what about himself? Should he move into the city? Trex had no problem meeting Anthros and making new friends, despite his isolated upbringing on his aunt’s and uncle’s farm. But what was he going to do, find work with one of the guilds, meet a nice lioness, settle down? He was still way too young for that.

  Somehow everything seemed unappealing to him. Trex was becoming more agitated despite his meditation preparation.

  And he was planning to meditate for a few days? Somehow even his trip away was now agitating him… it was just… frustrating.

  Letting out a long breath Trex slumped out of his meditating seating position, his mind simply abandoning the whole thing. Leaning forward, he lay down so that his head was poking out of the window, attempting to get a bit of the fresh breeze that was blowing by outside. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Trex rolled his head around. Opening his eyes again he found himself looking at the Crawling Mountains to the north. Blinking for a second, his blank mind came to an instant connection.

  -Go into the mountains-, the words suddenly came to him.

  Head up through the WesternWilderness and collect some Wispdews.

  It made sense, he knew he really didn’t want to go and meditate somewhere on the coast for three days. To be honest, it had only ever been an excuse to get away from the farm. At least this way he had a purpose, professor Katan would probably be grateful to have the flowers earlier rather then later.

  It wasn’t too dangerous either. He would stay out of Wolf Kingdom territory, which didn’t officially go to the coast in any case. But it wasn’t exactly safe, he was travelling into the wilds and official or not, it was close to Wolf Kingdom territory and there was no law out there. But heck, life wasn’t safe. His mind had already been made up. Hardly any lions had been to the mountains. Trex would be back in a few days and would have accomplished something.

  As his uncle always said, if you can’t find a solution from meditating, simply go and do something useful, the answer will usually present itself in time.

  Satisfied, Trex got up from the window, moving over to his bed. Throwing himself down onto the hard mattress he stretched out, his mind content enough to plan out the next few days. The young lion had no problem with the idea of travelling alone. He had been alone, so to speak, for a lot of his life and prided himself on his independence and self reliance. Looking out of the open window, he could just see the edge of the moon, and it struck him how beautiful its soft light was. It had been a while since he had thought that.

  - CHAPTER EIGHT -

  Generations

  (The tale of Sara)

  High up in the mountain valleys near the wolf city of Torstberg, a young wolf was moving through a darkened landscape with purpose.

  Sara looked up momentarily to see the same moon that Trex was looking at. But unlike him, she could find no beauty in its majestic and pale form at the moment. The young wolf had no time to appreciate such things anymore. She was simply too busy trying to sort out her mess of a life.

  Focusing her eyes once again on her objective, Sara sharpened her senses. Travelling silently and unnoticed did not come so easily to a wolf, their normal reaction was to face things head on, not sneak around like a lion. Sara’s brown fur had been helpful in keeping her out of sight within the forests surrounding the wolf city of Torstberg. Now that she was in the farms of the city’s outskirts, it was more important to be quiet, something that took a lot more concentration. Technically she could walk freely in the city at any time of night, but tonight she didn’t want to be seen. Wolves had a bad habit of gossiping and she could be sure that if she was seen, sooner or later her parents would find out about it. At the moment she was meant to be in bed.

  The last two days had not resolved anything for the young female wolf. Sara had returned home and seemingly continued life as normal. She had honestly expected her grandfather to have visited by now, or at least to have sent a message to her. Neither he nor any news had arrived and she was running out of time.

  Fera had stayed true to her word and had not said anything. Now that Sara was paying more attention to her family life, she noticed that her older sister was ac
tually getting on quite well with her mother again. Sara, herself, must have really been fighting a lot with her parents lately not to have seen this. Still though, she had bigger problems.

  If she was honest with herself, Sara wasn’t even sure how her grandfather could help, but at the moment she had little choice but to try and find him.

  The town called Torstberg lay in a large fertile valley high up in the mountains. The old settlement was surrounded on three of its sides by great snowy peaks, its lower end facing south towards the planes and RefugeCross. A winding stream dissected the landscape of the large valley which contained the wolf town. The freezing water was fed by large glaciers further up in the mountains. The waterway twisted and turned its way down the flat valley floor, splitting on occasion and rejoining to make little islands. It was on one of these islands that the centre of Torstberg was founded. Around this central fortified rocky island the larger city had evolved. It was connected by a series of bridges over the narrow fast flowing streams and canals.

  Though not as grand as RefugeCross, the city of Torstberg was still charming. Its stylish old alpine like buildings and royal castle complex was made of a mixture of wood and stone, and looked similar to a romantic, cosy and rich medieval European town on our world.

  Sara’s grandfather had always enjoyed walking in the forest, so much so that after his wife’s death he had taken a small place closer to the largest woods near the town. It was unusual for such a senior official to live outside of the central administration island, but considering the old wolfs age, he was allowed his eccentricities.

  Sara’s grandfather was actually still one of the most influential wolfs in Torstberg, which was not common for a male.

  He and Sara’s grandmother had long been respected members of the community and through this he had made his own way up the ranks of power. Upon his wife’s early death, he had held onto his post, his influence too well established to be denied him any more just because of his gender.

  Approaching her grandfather’s neat small house from the forest, Sara could see that a light was still burning through the trees. Now closer, she could see her grandfather standing just outside the backdoor on the stone paving that snaked its way down the manicured lawn.

  Sara’s grandfather, Mr Thorntreck, was talking to two hooded wolves that stood nearby.

  Able to see her grandfathers face clearly against the light coming from inside the house, it was obvious to Sara that he was agitated. At this distance she could not make out the conversation clearly. Sara had never seen her grandfather act anything other then calm and regal, both in the way that he spoke and in the way he acted. This was most unusual. Curiosity got the better of the young wolf. Deciding to get a little closer, she moved to her right, managing to get herself unseen behind a trim hedge that grew to the one side of her grandfather’s garden. From here she would be able to sneak close enough to hear the hushed conversation.

  ‘I don’t care who authorized this. You’re not getting any more assistance until I get some answers,’ growled her grandfather, his patience obviously at an end.

  ‘Cool it old man,’ said one of the hooded figures, another male.

  Sara’s grandfather almost snapped, his ears flattening noticeable as he sneered at the cocky youth, his tail flicking dangerously behind him.

  ‘Watch yourself you insolent exile, or I’ll tear your throat out.’

  Age was actually an interesting matter with Anthro wolves and lions, her grandfather’s threats were real. With age, wolves often got stronger due to their increasing ability to harness their emotions. Lion elders were also often more practiced and concentrated then their younger counterparts. The frailty of old age was something not known to wolf or lion. Natural death usually arrived suddenly, often with little warning for the aged.

  ‘I apologize for my counterpart, Mr Thorntreck,’ said the second hooded figure calmly, stepping between his companion and Mr Thorntreck. He was obviously the leader of the two.

  ‘He was exiled when young and doesn’t know his place.’

  ‘Make sure he learns it,’ threatened Sara’s grandfather. He took a second to calm himself.

  ‘Have the arrangements been made for the northern watch tower?’ asked the hooded speaker who had stepped between the two. He spoke in an elegant gentlemanly voice, much the same way as Sara’s grandfather Mr Thorntreck did.

  ‘Yes, as planned,’ replied Mr Thorntreck. ‘But I still fail to see what use the arrangement could be to you.’

  ‘Then there will be no need to bother you any further,’ said the smooth talker, turning away.

  ‘You two are not going anywhere until I’m told exactly what is going on,’ said Mr Thorntreck. He took a few steps to close the distance to the two cloaked figures.

  ‘We have been sent by the Mintury high council. Our papers are in order. That is all you need to know.’

  ‘Not this time,’ said Sara’s grandfather. ‘Your friend’s unscheduled trip into RefugeCross two days ago almost got my spy caught.’

  ‘We had to bring forward our schedule,’ replied the hooded figure smoothly. ‘It is unfortunate about your valued spy, but the risk was acceptable.’

  ‘Not to me,’ sneered Mr Thorntreck, ‘and I also don’t find it acceptable any more to be kept in the dark.’

  ‘That is not up to you,’ said the figure, starting to walk away again.

  ‘You don’t have a choice,’ stated Mr Thorntreck, his voice suddenly deadly calm.

  After the anger from before, Mr Thorntreck once again returned to his statesmanlike mannerisms, the ones that Sara knew well.

  ‘I can still stop the instruction to the northern tower.’

  This stopped the two hooded figures in their tracks.

  ‘You would go against the society?’ The elegant speaker asked, without turning around. His calm, yet threatening voice indicating that this was a rhetorical question.

  ‘If necessary.’

  ‘You saw the seal that was on the parchment?’ said the slick talking strangers. He had an amassing ability to make even a simple statement sound like a direct threat against your closest loved ones.

  ‘They can’t threaten me out here, not at my age,’ said Mr Thorntreck calmly

  ‘And your family?’

  ‘I know too much… they wouldn’t dare,’ Sara’s grandfather said, his words were as cold as ice.

  Sara was kneeling behind the hedge, totally engrossed, what she was hearing was simply beyond her, exiles, the Mintury society, this was heavy.

  To compliment this, there was also suddenly a heavy silence.

  ‘You are right,’ said the elegant sounding hooded stranger after a while. The speaker gave a nod to his companion.

  Sara swore she could hear the partial drawing of a sword, her hands moved to her own weapons automatically.

  ‘You know too much!’ the leader of the two cloaked figures spat out, his formerly smooth voice twisting into something decidedly more vicious.

  Spinning around, he already had his sword drawn as he charged Mr Thorntreck.

  Reacting on instinct, Sara sprang from her hiding spot, her own sword and dagger where already drawn as she burst through the other side of the hedge. Blinking In the direct lamp-light, Sara’s expression was almost as surprised as that of the three male wolves.

  The leader of the cloaked figures stopped in his tracks to size up the newcomer, he was only a few meters away from Sara’s Grandfather.

  Who was this strange girl who had just sprung from the hedge? Twigs and leaves tangled in her messed up hair.

  Sara saw that her grandfather was already in a defensive stance, years of training alerting him to the surprise attack. Unfortunately, he was holding only the dagger he always carried with him, his sword being left inside his home. The stubborn old wolf wasn’t even contemplating running, preparing to take on both attackers on his own.

  Sara on the other hand, shook off the last of her own shock at having sprung forward. Anger welled up
within the girl and she allowed it to overtake her system. Though the adrenalin was already pumping through her, she was able to revert to her basic training from school. Sara put her weight on her back foot, raising her weapons before tilting her head up to sound a loud piercing howl, one that would alert all nearby wolves to danger.

  ‘Kill her!’ growled the leader of the two cloaked figures.

  The next few seconds passed as in a blur. Sara saw that the leader lunged at her grandfather before she herself was confronted by the other cloaked figure wielding two short swords.

  Fuelled by a need to protect her grandfather, power surged through the adolescent female’s body. Automatically pushing forward, Sara met the lunge head on, catching both blades in her own. Straining to hold his advance, Sara finally saw the cloaked figure’s face close up.

  The young adult male had black hair on brown fur, his crazed eyes staring the female wolf down. He was as strong as she was.

  Sara didn’t have time to be scared. She was being driven by the most powerful motivator for wolves, the need to protect her family at all costs. The male exile could never hope to generate such power only from his hate and aggression.

  Kicking out, Sara pushed the young adult to one side. Deflecting one blade away from her body she stabbed with her shorter dagger. He sprang back for a second but then took the offensive. Blocking two blows, she managed to hit him in the head with the back of her fist. Stunned, he recoiled, having to block two blows before she landed a low kick to his exposed middle. Momentarily winding him she was able to knock a blade out of his hand. Immediately afterwards she landed another kick that sent him flying into the wall of her grandfather’s house.

  Collapsing to the ground, he nevertheless managed to hold his grip on his other sword.