FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter VIII - Closing Gates

Gusts of the most magnificent windstorm brought enough evidence to destroy all of your __theories and misguided empathy, Aurion. And yet, you still blame me.

6th of Wind, 6th cycle - Morning

Sarah Harword, daughter of West Solholm's captain of the guard, awoke from an annoying and uneventful night marked by unnerving turns, groans, and other guises of frustration she

couldn't keep to herself. She still remembered the"Come tomorrow" received on the previous day from the Officer who guarded Cairo's house and, with a bright and toothy smile, reassured each of her concerns. It was a simple and direct order, given with no aggression or reprehension, so to not invoke any anxiety or rebelliousness on her part, so she obeyed and returned home that day.

Her father had that all-so-familiar silent reaction to her return - staring viciously at the sword she took away and had just brought back, unscathed - but any words he was about to spew were blocked by her room's door, which she made sure to slam and turn the key.

She got up, tried the plainest clothes, in an ordinary attempt to feign some kind of simplicity, before settling with something more elegant but not too regal, if only to greet her wolf with a little more than just her presence. As she stepped outside and into the corridor, she risked another look out of the window and glanced at the sunlight reflected on the morning dew over the grass limiting the forest reaches; the cracks in the earth still in place since Cairo's spirit got out of control, and they barely reached outside the forest, hitting only - according to the talks she heard and hid - an unlucky warehouse outside of Solholm's western wall.

"Up already?" her father's voice echoed through the corridor, still drowsy from another interrupted sleep. He yawned as he stumbled around before disappearing into his room, with heavy steps and grumbles still audible.

"I'm going out," she said.

"Yeah," he sighed, voice muffled by the walls, "gonna give you something before you go."

She waited, unsure but not unhappy. He'd gotten better since the incident; no lifetime wounds other than another scar to brag about.

After the soft sounds of shuffling among clothes, he returned, carrying the sheathed sword that menaced another lesson in responsibility, danger, and fighting.

"Do you know who owns this?" he asked.

"You, I know."

"No. It's your mother's sword."

Mentioning her mother brought the tone of seriousness into the conversation more skillfully than any threat. She didn't know about the sword's previous owner, which brought a little embarrassment to her cheeks from all the inspiration she liked to give herself in the name of the knight she idolized.

"I only borrow and use it sparingly, whenever something dangerous is around, not when we have a plain troublemaker. I try to keep my word to her and not just parade around with this thing."

"I needed a sword! And I didn't-"

"Stop! Let me finish," he said with the firmness of a captain, stomping the wooden floor near her before handing the sword.

"W-what?" She grabbed, hesitantly, on the handle and felt the comforting weight of steel covered by leather once she let it rest on her shoulder.

"You shut yourself in after I returned. I had to hear the stories from the other folk, who seemed more delirious than I was when I saw those cracks in the earth."

"Did... Did they tell you everything?"

"Everything they could and ought, which was a lot."

"Well, I brought the sword back. Nothing too bad happened to it, see?"

"Yeah, nothing too bad," he played a smile, "I heard that you fought against a werewolf, and that you gashed him good. Is that right?"

"I... Yes, kinda." She wouldn't brag; at least not too much and definitely not to her father.

He crossed his arms and leaned down, that serious stare challenging her own.

"But you didn't kill him, and stood unarmed after that. Is that right?"

She didn't respond, partially from wondering what his purpose was and partially from the shame of a fight she didn't actually win.

"And yet, you came back fine. No wounds, almost nothing to remind you from the fight I wasn't there to see."

"You still-"

"The sword is yours, for now," he interrupted, resting his eyes, and suppressing a grumble. "People will spread rumors, others will test these rumors, and you need something to protect yourself. Something you can use as well as me."

She smiled, and the captain couldn't resist his daughter's happiness, always tucked inside the short hair and small, hard head. He didn't even resist her advance for a hug after that, with the sword in-between, thumping on their shoulders.

"Don't you dare lose it, tiny! Don't. You. Dare."

"I know, dad. I can keep it better than you can, I'm sure."

He sighed and stood up, ignoring any pain that came with that pesky wound.

"Now go ahead and visit your boyfriend, or pet, or whatever."

---

You nurtured one as well, thinking a beast could live alongside a man and keep the instincts inside a glimmering and glittering chest of theoretical spiritual control.

"The scent is perfect... The taste is," Cairo brought the spoon to his lips and took a minimal sip, "Not there yet."

["The taste is incredible."]

"'Incredible' is the usual taste," _ he tried to divert his thoughts before continuing, _"Don't __interrupt me."

["I didn't and I won't."]

"Your voice is enough."

["Is that a lie?"]

"Cairo?" Alexander's voice came from the room behind him, and Cairo saw the perked ears, and the careful, concerned look on the silver wolf's face who seemed to have just been awakened from a concentrated reading of one of Cairo's books. The young wolf sighed and returned his attention to the stew he'd use in a few minutes. "You know what to do," Alexander said as he resumed his reading.

"Yes..."

"It's a lie, you're right."

["I'm not entirely right. It's not a complete lie. It lacks intent. It's visceral, doesn't come from reason."]

"What? What do you mean?"

["I'll explain. Offer the stew to the watcher-wolf. He deserves it, and I think you agree."]

"Alexander," Cairo called as he took the pot from the fire, "try this. See if it's good already," he offered a spoonful to Alexander's lips and the silver wolf, after a hesitant lick, widened his eyes and slurped the rest of the stew with a delighted vigor.

"It's much better..."

"Much better than yesterday's?" Cairo asked as he returned to the kitchen.

"Ah yes, definitely. You've surely surpassed yourself."

Alexander returned to licking his lips, gathering the last of the delicious taste, and missed Telsin's entrance. The fox dragged his paws inside, bearing a plainly annoyed and tired expression as he carefully closed he door behind his back.

"Nothing happens in the morning," he said and shrugged, eyeing both wolves until noticing the pot and the spoon, "and I'd like some of that as well, if you don't mind. Having this scent and no taste is almost torture, Mr. Cairo!"

"Ah, sorry about that, let me clean it first," Cairo responded with a smile.

["My voice still reminds you of the incident."]

He paused for a brief moment as he organized his thoughts and gathered more stew from the pot. He'd practiced in the previous day under Alexander's guidance and Telsin's watchful presence how to maintain the thought-conversation with the Spirit and still react to everyday distractions.

"Yes. Yes it does. So much I can barely concentrate."

["And yet you know about this flaw, and let it cloud your reasoning."]

Cairo almost bit his lip in reaction, but managed to hide it as Telsin tasted the stew, smiled broadly, and gestured with his arms, weirdly, to show appreciation. Cairo let a thought of "Yes" escape; sincere enough to avoid any worry.

["Why are you still afraid?"]

"It should be obvious. And I'm not ready to let my anger go."

"That's incredible, Mr. Cairo!" Telsin finally said, "Are you going to serve it like this? It's much better than anything I had at the Silver Eagle!"

"Ah, no, no! I still have to prepare the rest of the meat. I'll be served with sirloin strips, you'll love it," Cairo responded before he let the fox enjoy the rest of the taste, entering into the cold room and closing the door.

The quietness of the place, along with the lower temperature and mixture of smells from the spices and assorted food - most of which would be either packed or wasted - relaxed his mind. He began searching through the box for the largest pieces. All neatly folded, perfectly weighted, heavenly scented.

["You still don't understand what I mean."]

"Neither can you understand me!" he let out a snarl with no one to see or hear it, only the watcher protecting them from anything dangerous. "I might lose it again, elsewhere, and whose __fault will it be?"

["Ours."]

"And that's what I mean! That dream you gave me didn't help! That sword is too dangerous! __You are too dangerous!" he paused, "It's exactly what I feared."

["That's another lie, but you can reason through this one."]

He sighed and took a deep breath to calm down. What was the reason for his recklessness and lack of confidence? He'd expected to become a beast, feared by every human, including his friends, and a vicious hunter seeking human flesh. Instead, his senses became sharper, his wounds healed, his spirit became understandable, and he now had access to the Winds. "True, I..."

["You already went through this. They assured you. I assured you. You are in control."]

"And I'm still afraid of losing it again if you decide to do the same thing."

["I won't."]

"But I don't know if this is one of your lies."

The ancient spirit quieted, and Cairo could feel it shifting its thoughts, coming to rest and evaluating his own knowledge in relation to the thoughts the young heir let to him.

"You cannot know the future. Another dead forest like Fillar's and you'll probably lose it again."

["That's why I trust you to correct me. Do not undermine your role, heir of the winds, this world is still too strange and still. I'll also need your help in this."]

He took the best cuts he could find and reached for the spices. His worries were of his own making, but the distractions of preparing the lunch for his friends were enough to put those at rest. However, they were in the same mind - spirit and heir, one bringing fear, the other suffering for it - and their existence still depended on their trust. From the sessions of meditations and extended talks, both private and watched, they came up with something to relieve time and circumstance-brought tensions.

"Trust"

["Trust"]

"Cairo!" Telsin's voice came low from the outside room, "I have something for you to see."

Opening the door washed him in both warmth and the vision he most expected on that dreary, locked up day inside his house. Sarah stood near the table by the kitchen, happy and anxious. She took a step further, smiling. Cairo quickly placed the ingredients on the nearest table and rushed towards her, hugging tightly, and she reciprocated, burying her face into his chest, running her hands through the fluff of his neck and head, muttering quietly to only them both: "Fluffy".

Cairo nuzzled her cheeks, and received that wonderful, sweet scent, closing his eyes in order to not let that moment go; at least for this small shard of eternity.

* * *

Telsin nudged Alexander's shoulder in order to rinse the silver wolf from the enchanting scene. They both moved outside and breathed in the morning air, stretching and letting the comfort and relaxation wash over their fur.

"I think Mr. Cairo is in good hands right now. You can go if you want," Telsin said.

"I'll be back in the afternoon. I won't lose the opportunity to taste whatever he is planning to make."

"I won't be able to enjoy it myself, but I'll at least keep the watch."

"He'll offer you something, I'm sure," he said before looking around the street, which were just starting to fill up with humans, anxiously gathering in groups to spread the rumors of the windstorm. "Where is that Inquisitor you wanted to talk to?"

"I don't know, but he's busy with something that's probably useless," Telsin said and stretched his arms - hiding a nervous look-around the humans, ears twitching at every mention of "heirs" or "beasts". "Go. Your Master is surely waiting for you."

---

It's not pride, Aurion, you must be able to see it. It's the pure act of reasoning. If I didn't let the bright Kael seek his dreams of power beyond what was within his reach, how come would Iconsider myself a good Mage? Do you even remember your earlier days with the Arcane?

It was indeed a good lesson, and a proof for the ages.

Russel felt the strength and assurance on each step as he neared Aurion's house. Today he was sure no dark spirit would whisper thoughts of rage-filled power to him at night, and no common man, hidden among the crowds and preparing to snatch out all of his thoughts would surprise him. He felt in control after such a long time of seeking it with isolation. And beyond that, a full night of sleep, with untroubled dreams and no chains, was a gift he didn't remember how much he needed.

Until the spark of nervousness came back to him as an heir of the rat, the same from two nights ago, exited Aurion's door and immediately settled his small and dark eyes on him.

"Ah! The evoker, mage of the elements, now free, yes, no?" the rat said with a mischievous smile that grew into a quiet laugh he masked as rat squeaks.

Russel let his mind rest and walked nearer, remembering how he was definitely immune to whatever this Officer could come up with.

"What a nervous human, yes? Talk to your friend, he wants some company, yes."

"You're not my friend, rat. What were you doing there?"

"Friend, no, of course not, no! The enchanter is your friend, and mine as well, yes! Why wouldn't I visit a friend?"

"I suppose..." anger crept back to him for a brief and vanishing moment he decided to ignore, "and you should be happy I'm not reporting you to the Temple."

"Haha, reporting? The Temple already has the reports, and already took action, evoker, yes. Two reports, at least, and a heated discussion, and the visit of a Hawk, yes," he paused and seemed contemplative in his occasional distractions during his talk, "you're late, and furious, and needing some time to rest, no?"

"I need yes, some time away from you. And any other beast."

"Good, good," Zavi'sh said, placing a paw on the man's shoulder and lowering his voice, "you'll need that rest, and that anger, for the desire and rage that will dawn on you, mage."

Russel frowned and watched as Zavi'sh walked away, calm and relaxed, without any aid an old heir like him would require. And what did he mean by that? He shrugged and cursed at no one, stepping towards the door that promised some answers. He was about to knock when Aurion's new butler opened it and appeared surprised with the visit, before hurriedly recomposing himself.

"Mr. Russel! Master Aurion was expecting you," he said, giving two steps back and beckoning for the mage to enter. No time for courtesy or complaints, as the old mage waved from the armchair next to the fireplace, inspecting an old maple-wood smoking pipe.

Russel walked in, almost snarling, and sat in the couch opposite to his colleague.

"So that rat was your friend, I suppose," Russel started."I'll be at the pantry, Master Aurion," the butler said and bowed.

"Thanks, Derick. Disregard any screaming or yelling you hear for the next moments, please. Unless they come from me, of course."

Derick chuckled and walked along the corridor, disappearing among the back rooms.

"Russel! You're looking good in this fine morning," Aurion smiled.

"Don't even start, Aurion! You sent those two heirs to my house and then disappeared! What's the meaning of this?"

"Regarding my disappearance, I was sleeping. Enchanting those spheres was not an easy task."

"Those two would've killed me!"

"No they wouldn't," Aurion said dismissively, "Maybe if you fought them back they'd be forced to do something."

"Of course I tried to fight back! But you made the favor of waiting for the perfect moment when I'd be too tired after securing my tower."

"I made sure they would arrive at your tower in that moment just so you would be discouraged to fight. But you're such a hard-headed young fool... Of course you couldn't resist a fight."

"That rat attacked first! I wouldn't just stand there and take it."

"It wasn't him, it was his spirit, and he was under a false impression. He is very sorry about that, I assure you."

"That's not what he said just now. He didn't seem the least concerned about he did."

"Well, you're not his problem anymore, are you? Rather, you cannot be his problem anymore."

Russel hesitated. He reclined on the couch and let out a sigh, expelling the anger that had swelled up on his throat.

"No, I'm not. I'm finally free," he smiled.

"A shame. Your furry form reminded a lot about Alexander."

"Don't you even dare, Aurion! I'm finally free from this curse. I can get my house back, I can perform my show again at the Glimmering, I can finally walk around without feeling targeted..."

"And I'm finally able to take some days off! No more spheres for at least a cycle. Now to focus on more important things."

"Important things? You barely get out of this cave! You'll probably lock yourself in your laboratory and start experimenting on your new butler or something."

"No, that's not what I mean," Aurion reached for a crumpled envelope in his pocket and took out a vellum scroll from within, offering it to Russel. "Important things are important things, my friend."

Russel accepted the letter but delayed his reading with frowns towards his friend's serious demeanor. His face, which began indifferent and curious, turned into a grimace as he reclined once again into the couch.

Aurion admired the younger mage's attitude. As much as he grew an impatient genius, whenever things ran out of his control and started affecting more than he could allow, his patience returned, and all his power would now have one objective.

"Is this really him?" Russel finally asked once finishing the read.

"Yes. I checked the seal and the markings."

"This is basically a confession of an incitement. Does he realize that?"

"Of course he does, but he obviously won't return to Solholm, or any other city within the kingdom."

"I'm not so sure. A man like him would probably return to check the damage he caused, pretending it's just for knowledge."

"I find it difficult to believe. The moment he steps into this city..."

They took a moment of silence and mutual comprehension.

"I'll end him myself," Aurion said.

"You'll probably lose too much time arguing about your experiments with werewolves, and how much you are right, as proved by a dead man that escaped your care."

"He was a success, and yes, I'll be sure to show Edward how much he's wrong about heirs and spirits."

"Not if I find him first. I have a much better reason to want him dead."

---

6th of Wind, 6th cycle - Noon

The closest anyone has ever gotten to the Lost Prophecy, except for those lucky to be born __on the gone days of the war. You cannot pretend blindness to this fact.

It's an experiment I'll gladly repeat.

Earlier than he or his Master had expected, Alexander returned to Aurion's house bearing unpleasant news. He wasn't sure if he should knock on the door or just use his own key to enter and risk scaring his Master with the surprise - he'd probably flunk his enchantments and hear a half-day long complaint. Hesitation turned into surprise, however, when an adult human opened the door and stared - surprised and curious, as if trying to make sure it was actually him standing at the door by the color of his fur.

"You must be Alexander, Master Aurion's apprentice," the human said.

Alexander wondered briefly at the mention of "Master" from this human he'd never seen, but quickly remembered his last recommendation to his Master before accepting the Temple's mission.

"You're his butler, I presume."

The man stepped aside and beckoned him to enter before bowing.

"You may call me Derek. I've received instructions to let you two talk privately as it has been a long time since you haven't done so. He's waiting in his room."

"Well," Alexander said as he entered, "not that long of a time."

"I'm sorry, I meant a long time without talking about important issues. At least, that's what Master Aurion told me."

Alexander took a moment to breathe in the scents he'd missed from the days on Cairo's house. Not that many days, but for some reason it was enough to make him wag his tail and smile at the presence of that large dinner table, the dinning room next to the parlor, the organized glasses on the shelves, and the many circular windows from which the rays of sunlight beamed through - not a single spec of dust floating around. This new butler knew how to do his job, but did he know how to take care of the old man properly?

"Is he still sleepy? He usually takes his time before lunch," Alexander said.

"He slept all day yesterday after finishing his enchantments. Don't worry, he was quite eager to let you enter," Derek said. "His mood seems to have improved as well, but I can't help to feel unsure about a lot of his orders."

"He is like that," Alexander said with a smile, "As long as he's not working himself too much, everything should be fine."

"Ah, that's a relief indeed!" Derek said, sighing, "I'll be at the kitchen, so don't mind me."

Alexander waited comfortable moments after the human walked away. He inspected the shelves, the furniture, the many bits and pieces of details the human didn't miss in his cleaning. Also, the smoking pipe was now missing from the shelf. Maybe Aurion didn't learn his lesson and was actually trying the foul thing. He shook his head.

["Watching..."]

"I'm coming, Master," Alexander said, "don't try to spy on your apprentice, it's a waste of energy," he laughed before finishing his inspection and strolling towards his Master's room.

He opened the door slowly, allowing enough time to build a fake smile. Seeing the face of his Master happy and serene, having a book at hand and the smoking pipe on the table - not lit nor full - made him chuckle. He wondered if three days outside this place would make him capable of hiding anything from him.

"You've grown, Alexander," Aurion said before closing his book and laughing.

"Master, I," he started, blushing with the silly comment, "you haven't changed a single bit."

"Aren't you glad, apprentice? What did you expect?"

"Something much worse, actually."

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. But I followed your advice, and Derek has been a great butler."

"He didn't let your work kill you, so that's good. Was it worth it?"

"Kill me? Apprentice, you should know better!"

"Yes," Alexander suppressed a laugh, "I know you'd kill yourself instead of delivering a poorly-enchanted sphere."

"Always too serious, apprentice. Grab the chair, sit and relax. You've much to tell me before going away again, don't you?"

The surprise ran through his fur, bristling it, perking his ears, and stopping his tail. It wasn't supposed to be a surprise; he should've known his Master's awareness of mostly everything. Alexander pulled the chair and sighed as he sat, leaning his head down and letting the ears drop.

"Why are you sad, apprentice?" Aurion started, placing a gentle hand on the wolf's shoulder. "I much prefer you when your tail is wagging."

"I have yet another failure to add to my list. And my departure will make it a third."

"Your departure was expected since the beginning. It was my failure to keep you locked in this place, but I couldn't find any other heir to accompany you, or a place in which you could practice your spells. This young wolf, however, seems like the perfect opportunity."

"He's troubled, and still acting like it wasn't my fault."

"Can you blame him, apprentice? He's expressing a wolf-like behavior I'm exceedingly familiar with, and will miss it so much after today."

"But... he isn't right."

"He isn't or he can't be, apprentice? How much can you blame yourself and not an unfortunate coincidence for this?"

Alexander leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes, remembering which details he missed from his mission. Details that, ignored or put aside as they were, culminated with this incident, and every other heir in Solholm would pay for that.

"I didn't expect a werewolf spirit inside him," Alexander said.

"And I'm beyond proud you returned intact from such an incident. Now tell me, what happens to an heir when he has a werewolf spirit inside him?"

"He... Nothing, actually. But Cairo was a special case. His Spirit can consume other spirits, and so this dark spirit wasn't a problem. It was distressing to him, surely, in his first meditations, but he managed to achieve control and some kind of understanding."

"Can he wield the winds?"

"Yes, easily, but he prefers not to."

"So, he has achieved control, understanding, and spirit magic, but you still think your help isn't deserving of a reward?"

"The Temple doesn't think so, but they recognize my spirit's ability of watching over him, and my knowledge is helpful to guide him through this, but..."

"They actually think much more than that, but I can't tell you," he held up a finger in front of a grin, "It's a secret. I've promised not to tell anyone."

"Master! This is not fair, is it? How do you know it?" Alexander broadened a smile.

"Of course it's not fair! But it is exciting, to see a young mind like yours developing as it should. The Temple won't take away your crest, but they won't make you an Officer just yet. It'snot out of disappointment or harsh reprehension they are giving you this new mission. It's actually out of trust."

"It can't be trust. I'm just their best hope of keeping that spirit under control, and I know I can't do that."

"You're wrong, Alexander. Twice, actually," Aurion took a deep breath, "Your guidance helped the young wolf to achieve control, else we wouldn't have a city standing anymore. Also, they have a way of keeping Cairo down for a long time."

"Not in Solholm, at least. I'd guess any heir capable of keeping his spirit down is up in the High Mountains."

"Wrong again, apprentice! They have one in Solholm, and a new one just arrived and is heading towards Cairo's house right now. A friend of mine was sharp and quick in his investigation, so we didn't have many misunderstandings on what happened."

"Really?" Alexander wondered about that affirmation as he leaned in on his chair. Hoping that the General wouldn't add another restriction to the heirs under the Temple's watch was surely impossible, but Aurion wouldn't create a lie like that for his sake. "Still, I'm being set aside. I don't know what will happen when everyone finds out the truth."

"They probably won't, if the Temple's plan works. They'll accept the guilt but at least they'll avoid a much worse outcome."

Alexander sighed. His Master always had that way of showing that his reasoning was poor whenever he blamed himself, even if he still didn't understand it by the end.

"There's something else..."

"Brandon, isn't it?"

"Yes. I... I put an end to the werewolf spirit still inside him."

"That was for the best. A shame there was no other way to save him."

"My shame, you mean."

"No, just a shame, Alexander. I had two wolves in this house, and one of them ran away because he thought he could solve a huge problem that plagued the city. Now, the other one will leave me as well, to help someone in need."

"I'm sorry, Master."

"Well, I'm not," Aurion stood up, "It's the least I expect from you. You, on the other hand, expected me to die in this house, alone with my spheres, but I'm much better than you think, apprentice! I may be old, but I can still do my job. Besides, it's not a goodbye forever and you know that."

"Master," Alexander let a smile slip from his control, "you can't promise to meet me again."

"No, but you can," he placed a hand on the back of his apprentice's head and scratched behind his ears, in the way that he knew the wolf loved, even if he'd complain about being treated like a cub. "I'll be waiting to see you as an Officer or an Inquisitor, and finally able to have an apprentice for yourself. Also, free from this old human that couldn't take care of you properly. Like a wolf would."

---

It was also an honor to meet the new spirit that will accompany the next years of that forest.

He looked old and wise, but careless and full of ideals. I'm quite sure you two know each other.

"A... Hawk?" Cairo took a step away from the visitor as she wandered inside his house.

He'd never seen such an heir before, except in crude illustrations on the books he liked to peruse through in his infancy. Still, the sight of the plumage with its darkening tones, the sharp beak in front of the attentive face, and the quick, darting movements of the head were incredible to witness. "W-why?"

"You are Cairo," the hawk spoke fast before her face finally stopped the examination of the room and settled on the young heir's eyes. "Stay quiet for a moment," she said and leaned down, eyes so near his own that he could not only see the darkness oozing from them like the growing shadows surrounding a dying campfire, but also feel the oppressive control and authority that emanated from within.

["Blink."]

The order came from his spirit, and at the moment Cairo's eyes closed he found himself back at the old house he practiced remembering during his meditations.

His head felt light, and his body, weightless; the familiar sensation of entering the meditative state from the days before, and the various experiments with relaxation he, Alexander, and Telsin managed to achieve after the incident.

Cairo sat on the stone steps near the entrance and waited for the image to solidify and the details to form and grow. From the clear fog of memory, he could spot the grass fields near the house, the patches where his parents marked to plant apple trees - these now in beautiful bloom -, and the paths of dirt crossing through the larger trees in the distance.

With a second glance, he noticed the huge wolf walking in the distance, brushing his large body on the trees, forcing his way into the grass field. Around his frame, ephemeral winds danced and disappeared, spreading dirt, sand, dry leaves, and small twigs wherever he treaded.

["She'd see me."]

"She would try to control you, most likely," his voice came clear from his thoughts, and he suppressed the feeling of surprise towards this achievement he expected - speaking so easily to his spirit -, but never got his paws on during the other training sessions.

["Do you agree with her?"]

Cairo looked back at him and stood up. Giving slow, meticulous, and powerful steps, he treaded through grass and dirt, ignoring the relaxing sensation of having his fur bathed in those magical and pure winds.

"No. Not now," Cairo said as he neared the huge creature. "We're building trust and understanding, are we not?"

["And you know how I can still run out of your control."]

"Yes, but I'll know you aren't doing that for the same reason you damaged the forest."

He reached a paw on the wolf's snout and slowly caressed it, staring into those large yellow eyes as they pierced his own.

["If such a thing is to happen again, you better see through me, and the death of these places will become so much clearer."]

"I don't think it's a good idea to let you out so soon."

["Then I'll give you my eyes, so you may see what I see in your dead and still world."]

With a blink, Cairo found himself back in his house, and the hawk who looked so intently at him before was now a couple of steps away, confused as she stared back at him.

"Haha, too rebellious for you, yes?" the rat from the day of the incident appeared from behind the hawk. Smiling and completely healed, he entered the house properly. "Cairo! Good to see you trusting your other wolf, yes, no?"

Cairo let out a shy smile, unable to discern that as a praise or a warning.

"It's... good to see you too. And you've recovered pretty quickly."

"Quickly, yes, no time to spend on blood, no. Now, meet Hawk Alvar. She'll be taking care of you as I take care of the lazy fox outside, yes?"

"You'll -" Cairo interrupted himself with a look past the rat and into the outside. The fox was there, lost in his watch over the streets once again. "Sir. Telsin? Are you going away?"

Telsin's ears twitched twice at Cairo's question before he entered the house and closed the door. He stared at his rat partner with a look that mixed bewilderment, anger, and happiness.

"Yes. Alexander will be back soon, I can guarantee it. Also, this Hawk here won't do anything too harsh, right Alvar?"

"Nothing harsh," Alvar responded, "Unless needed."

"Haha," Zavi'sh said, "The hawk is afraid, yes? The hawk doesn't trust the Cairo wolf, no? The Hawk also doesn't trust the learnings he received, no?"

"An incident. That's enough," she said before sitting down on a chair and spreading her wings.

"Oh, she says it's enough, so it's so, yes. No point in arguing with a Hawk, no."

---

It was also surprising to see the young Russel succumbing to this curse. A talented young man like him would surely avoid such a mindless creature, or devise a way of becoming immune to any of its attempts of spreading the curse.

I suppose the gift of the Arcane is truly a wondrous thing for the beasts as it allows the kinds of trickery and thought only known to men.

Inside Remdrall's academy, the infirmary usually served for treating minor wounds - the natural products of swordplay, be it training or proper duels. Instructor Aiden had the habit of not asking too many questions, being satisfied just by overseeing the trainees getting their wounds fixed and jumping back into new training sessions. This time, however, Max had enough of a serious injury that he made sure to ask whatever he needed from Sarah before she entered.

Carrying two small and paper-covered bowls, she entered the room where Max was locked into. On that small bed, visited infrequently by the Sun rays during afternoons, he tried his best to avoid putting any weight onto his right arm, leaning softly on his left side, with a disgruntled expression as he had difficulties to read a book with only one hand.

Once she closed the door, Max turned his head at her without letting out any surprise. Her eyes, predictably, sought his paralyzed arm in the same way she did yesterday.

"It's getting better, you know? You don't need to stare at it." Max said.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah, but I got used to it. Only twenty-seven more, I think. It'll proba-" he stopped mid-sentence and groaned, lengthening his breaths for a long moment, squinting his eyelids, clasping the sheets under his left hand. The relief came fast and he sighed after that, turning his head at her concerned face. "Well..." he huffed, "Twenty-six now."

"You are lucky your arm is still there. Could've been much worse."

"I'm lucky and stupid," he took another breath, "I should've prepared something else before dispelling that thing."

Sarah pulled up a chair and teared away the paper covering both bowls, placing them on the table. The smell of freshly-made stew twisted with the delightful combination of spiced and salted meat - and much more - as it began to spread within the room. After a short moment of drinking in the scents, Sarah grabbed the spoon that lay in the desk.

"I don't need it, you can use it all you want" he said, sitting up and reaching for the bowl of roast beef, spiced up with herbs he couldn't recognize, medium-well, covered and pooled inside a stew mixture that exhaled the scent of different vegetables. Floating amid the stew, tiny pieces of mushrooms, potatoes, carrots, and different cuts of meat dotted the liquid and compounded the delicious smell.

"How's he?" Max asked before bringing the bowl near his face.

"Still blaming himself for you."

"Well, he's sorta right."

"And you're sort of wrong!" she said, trying to contain her anger.

Max tasted the meal, gulping down the stew and chewing the meat that came with. It invigorated him, made him forget about the pain that strapped him down and broke his thoughts every few minutes. It filled his mouth with savory meatiness - still warm and soft - before he allowed himself to continue.

"I bet you're not even allowed back in there, are you?""No. They said to come back tomorrow... Again."

"And what did he say?"

"He... Just gave us these," she said, drinking from the bowl and swallowing slowly, "and I think these are the best he'd ever made..."

"Oh, he's your cute wolf, alright," Max said before eating some more.

"What? He made it for you as well, not just for me!"

"That's not-" he placed the bowl back on the table, "What I meant is that this thing is too good. Incredibly good. This is a present for... us."

"A present?"

"He's going away, Sarah."

Max let that sentence sink in on her, seeing her face gaining another hint of anger and surprise. She couldn't hold the bowl on her hands anymore and trembled as she left hers on the table.

"That can't be right. He'd tell me something, at least!"

"No, he wouldn't. You know how kind he is. He's probably feeling bad right now for hiding it from you," he sighed, "If all this happened a couple decades ago, he'd be dead, no question. Right now I'm amazed they got to keep him in this city for so long, but I guess they're trying to find an Inquisitor to escort him out of the city."

"He didn't... How could they?"

"'How could they', Sarah?" he stared at her, the most vulnerable he'd ever seen. "You know what he's capable of! Don't tell me you didn't see that coming! He's dangerous."

"He is not dangerous!" she almost yelled, getting up from the chair.

"How ca-" he stopped, moaning again at the piercing sensation that predicted the intense pain of muscles and flesh mending on his arm. Every time it happened the pain got weaker, and he knew that the limited movement of the fingers and shaking of the wrist would, after some time, give to the complete rehabilitation. For now, he just shook himself to help with the intense pain.

"Sorry, I just... I didn't know," she said.

"It's fine," he hissed, arm getting back to normal and the number 'twenty-five' settling in his mind, "I also don't think he'd do that again, but no one in Solholm would believe that. Even if no one knows what really happened."

"I should have said something. I need to say goodbye at least."

"No, he probably did this for us, because he doesn't want to say goodbye. Stop worrying about him, we'll be able to go after your little wolfie," he smiled.

"Go aft- What? What are talking about? Those Temple Officers would never let us go with them."

"I'm not talking about that! Give it some time, a couple of years, get your title from the Academy, and we'll go after him."

"After him? Would you-"

"I'd like to travel, yes, very much. This city is too boring for anyone who isn't a knight or hasn't a chance of becoming one."

"What are you saying? Don't tell me your arm is gonna be numb."

"Nah, that's not it. I just want to seek something other than swordplay."

"You mean your little tricks?"

"Magic, Sarah, not tricks. All I need are two good arms, better books, and someone to teach me."

"And you want to leave the city for that?"

"Actually, that wolf mage told me I could become an apprentice if I show my talents to one of the great Solholm mages."

"Well," she got her bowl back and resumed her meal. "If you can study your tricks in this city, then why do you want to get out?"

"To see Cairo again, and give him the fight I promised," he grinned, and grabbed his one as well, "and to follow you, prevent any accidents."

"Accidents? I can take of myself."

"Please, you just have a magical sword that isn't even yours!"

"It's mine now! My father gave it to me, completely."

"Really? Well, it's a good thing you're his daughter isn't it?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ah nothing. Still, a girl and a magical sword are not enough. Especially if the girl is a genius that loves to get into trouble."

"I don't-"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, gulping more stew, "you don't get into trouble, you don't like to enter into fights with the others in the academy, you don't like to jump on cute wolves, you don't-" he flinched, and his shaking almost spilled the contents of his bowl if it wasn't for Sarah's quick snatch.

"Fine," she said, carefully placing the bowl back on the table, "we'll go together, then."

Max waited for the pain to subside, marking another milestone with the number 'twenty-four' in his mind. The pain would soon be gone and the familiar, but nostalgic, anxiety for the final spars were getting back to him. He couldn't wait to become a full swordsman, and then wait for Sarah. The future plans, direct consequence of the current ones, were finally given form.

"You're... smiling?" she said. "I think you're becoming mad with those spasms."

"Nonsense," he said, gathering air after the breath-taking pain, "It's just that... I'm starting to come up with some plans."

---

6th of Wind, 6th cycle - Afternoon

I will eagerly wait for your response, Aurion. In the meantime, let me prepare you for a __visitor that will surely cause some confusion and bewilderment in Solholm. That is, if he's _ allowed to pass through the gates, of course._

The clue is 'Flare'.

Telsin downed his second cup of orange juice and asked for a third. He licked his muzzle, in order to get the rest - and not waste a single drop - of the taste, smearing a golden-yellowy stain around it.

"You won't get any of my wine this time, Fox of Light," Zavi'sh said on the other side of the table.

"You dirty rat, underestimating me again! I don't need any juice, nor sugar, nor wine to read you!" Telsin said as he felt the familiar tingling sweetness traveling down his throat and just prodding at his vision and Light to be let free. "You're such a coward, you know that?"

"Sorry," Zavi'sh said without losing his smile, provoking that sensation of camaraderie on his friend, either to make him less worried or something even less nefarious. "I had to do it, yes?"

"Nah, you can't come up with that anymore. What did you read that made you do it?"

"A tale, yes. An old tale about Fillar's death and the forest's survival."

"And you just decided to become the new Fillar after reading it?" Telsin said, his fur almost bristling with impatience before the next cup arrived, full of more sweet juice. Before he took his large swigs, though, he completed his thought. "Don't hide your ingenuity, Zavi'sh. I don't even need my signature to read you. At least don't confirm my fears."

"No fears, Fox of Light. It's not what I meant, it's not what I wanted, yes, no. Something was wrong in that forest, and I could see into it, yes? I wanted to help it."

Telsin gulped the last half of his juice before responding.

"Cairo was the priority, wasn't he?"

"Now you're becoming blind, fox. I couldn't have saved him, and I couldn't have saved the forest, and I couldn't have seen Edward if I didn't seek Fillar's grave, yes?"

"And I suppose these were the only reasons?"

"The only ones I can give, yes. What does your Light tell you? What is she whispering into your ears, Fox of Light?"

Telsin tried to relax into his chair, feigning a summoning of his Light.

["Nothing he doesn't already know."]

"Nothing my brilliant mind couldn't conjure."

["Brilliant, yes, of course."]

"It's brilliant! I am a master investigator, now."

["He did all the work."]

"I fought against a werewolf!"

["He fought against an ancient spirit."]

"Fine. Let me show you how pitiful he is."

Telsin cleared his throat.

"A rat who likes humans so much that he left his home in order to visit Solholm. Again. And now he had a chance of watching these humans for as long as the forest stands. He'll see them grow, learn from them, see them trying to recover from this incident, and help the heirs who will be seen with those vengeful eyes on the next Dark nights." Telsin looked around him, seeing the humans that were too acquainted with the clientele of heirs in this part of East Solholm to regard them as troublesome. However, the rumors would soon spread, and this tranquility would become harder to maintain.

"I can't compete with this brilliant mind, no, no," Zavi'sh shrugged and slowly shook his head, "But at least I can promise to do my job. For the next eternity, yes."

Those words cut through Telsin's concentration, making his ears perk, his head to hang low, and him to regard his cup with contempt. This was, undeniably, one of the last meals he would share would his friend inside this place.

"How long?" Telsin asked.

"Until the oaks grow fully and Fillar's guardians live again."

"Anything else I should know?"

"I'm already stuck, yes, yes," he smiled, partially to hide some of his pain and to demean the situation's significance. "Maybe up to the sea, maybe closer, yes."

"Do you want me to tell your wife?"

Zavi'sh stopped at that mention. His ears, which were so seldom perked, now stood up like a rabbit's, and the increased breathing was visible through his sniffing black nose and twisting whiskers. He finally drank his wine, entirely, with large swigs. Once he regained his breath and shook the effects of the sweet and potent drink, he replied.

"It's for the best, yes. She'll find a way to come here eventually, so I can't just run away, no," he smiled, "Tell her it's not your fault, or any of the Temple's workers."

"I will. Now, should I call you by any other name?"

"The ancient spirit rat of Fillar's forest, yes."

"The dirty rat of Solholm, fine."

---

6th of Wind, 6th cycle - Evening

To Edward, the old seat of Darkness in the Arcane Circle.

Your position is not compromised, but your life is in danger. I refuse to engage in yet another discussion into the adequacy of beasts in human societies, as I know it won't yield anything productive from what I've seen in your latest actions and our previous discussions.Yours is now lying in a bed, inside a secluded and isolated infirmary; his reputation scarred, thanks to you. A plan that didn't work and, as the myriad of crumpled scrolls in your old keep (if you still remember it, after that laughable incident), is now just another reminder of your failures.

Mine is well, strong, good, and talented. I tried to save one of yours, but couldn't, for their ferocity in dominance is formidable. You have successfully recreated the curse from long past, and caused enough damage to prove a deniable point.

If you step inside Solholm once again, Edward, I hope, for your own sake, that you can atone for this incident. With actions this time, not just words.

The clue this time is, I suppose, 'Chardwall Keep'

- From Aurion's letter at the 7th of Wind

Back at Cairo's house, Alexander opened the scroll under the flickering candlelight and prepared the quill for the letter that would precede their departure. He looked over his shoulder, towards the large Hawk that stared intently at both wolves.

"I already have a watcher, Inquisitor," Alexander said, "may I ask you to wait outside?"

Hawk Alvar's gaze darted, lightning fast, from Alexander's tired eyes to Cairo's, then to the far corners of the house. She stood up, stretched her wings and seemingly tried another glare at Cairo's defiant face before giving up and walking outside; closing the door to not let the last winds of the cycle enter the house.

"I don't think I should have resisted her power," Cairo whispered, "but my Spirit thinks it's for the best."

"Do you trust it?"

Cairo hesitated, took in a long breath, and then let out a timid "Yes."

"Then there should be no problem, and is actually a vast improvement over yesterday." Alexander dipped the tip on the inkwell. "You may dictate it now, Cairo."

"I..." Cairo considered as he looked for a place to sit, deciding to settle on the couch. He'd never written a letter, let alone dictated one. Other people had read to him before, but he barely remembered the formal structures that littered those formal collections of words.

["You have work to do, Wolf."]

"Learning words? Yes, I know that."

["No, that's not it. You need something more primal than that."]

"Cairo?" Alexander asked, bringing the young wolf back from his thoughts, "It's fine if you wish to be informal. I'll be sure to write formally, and I'll read the letter to you once it's finished."

Cairo sighed.

"Fine," he paused, "Uh... 'Dear Mom and Dad...'

"Alexander's ears twitched at those starting words, and he began to dance the quill's tip through the paper, remembering the lessons on readability and composition.

"I'm coming home," Cairo continued.

This young wolf would return to their house without holding the titles they were expecting and bearing an incredible potential buried within himself. How familiar.

"... and I'm bringing a friend."

Alexander stopped at that and peered back at him, seeing Cairo's muzzle spread in a gentle smile. Happiness found its way thought his head into his own lips, and he smiled back, trying and failing to hold it for himself.