Slave Trade - Services Rendered

Story by comidacomida on SoFurry

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Slave Trade

Services Rendered

copyright 2013 comidacomida

Sidney tumbled into the darkness, head-over-tail, downward... downward... downward... until he landed on his back sending up a foul-smelling cloud of dust into the oppressively heavy, dank air. The earth beneath him softened his impact, but only just slightly, and it immediately brought back a litany of unpleasant memories regarding the slave pits where he had been stored after first coming to Pross.

Clenching a pawful of the dirt as he slowly sat up, Sidney glanced around in the near-blackness, shying away from the little pinpoints of red light that gazed back at him. The fox stopped mid-breath when he realized that the baleful points of crimson were cupped in the empty eye sockets of countless decomposing bodies... bodies of slaves he somehow remembered from his other life... his other life back in the pits.

"Sid... ney..." breathed the lipless muzzle of a skeletal gopher barely an arm's reach away. Sidney didn't remember the dead slave's name, but remembered watching as he had been flayed alive-- the gopher had been that night's dinner.

The fox skittered away until the rough hewn earthen wall pressed against his back, "No!" he shouted, putting his paws up to keep the fleshless corpse at bay, "Stay away from me!" he cried, "Stay away!"

"Sid... ney..." spoke another raspy voice, and off to his right the fox saw a rotting, jawless tabby crawl along the ground toward him; one of her arms was bent the wrong way and several of her fingers were missing. She had been all but pulled apart by the hyenas when they were making a point to the new slaves; her jaw was finally crushed by a maul as she had bled out.

"No!" the fox screamed, "Get away from me!" he cried, "You're dead! You're all dead!" though his voice was all but drowned out by their intoning of his name.

The bodies continued moving toward him, stretching, reaching, clawing... but they all stopped suddenly and turned where a shadowy figure emerged from the pack, and Sidney gasped; Uraou pushed the rest of the dead slaves aside. Unlike the others, he was not decomposing and was not rotten... he looked just the way Sidney remembered him-- complete with fresh blood on his fur and a caved in skull.

The bear's eyes gleamed with the same red light as the rest of the slaves but when he opened his muzzle to speak, more than a hoarse rasp emerged, "Oi, Sir... took ya bloody long enough ta find ya way here... Sid...ney." it was Uraou's voice, all except for his name, which sounded the same as when it was spoken by the other corpses.

"But..." Sidney's eyes widened, tears threatening to run down his cheeks, "... you're dead..." he whispered.

The bear let out a laugh, strangely hollow and devoid of the vitality he'd shown in life, "Surprise..." he offered a bland smile, "Yea... I'm dead... and so're you, mate."

"But..." the fox paused, feeling a cold ball of fear take root in his stomach, "... I don't... I mean..."

"Don't FEEL dead, Sid....ney?" Uraou questioned, his one good ear raising up inquisitively, "Sure ya don't... ya still got a body attached to ya spirit."

"I..." the fox hesitated, "I don't understand..."

"You are still clinging to the world of the living..." explained another voice, and Sidney was surprised and aghast as Lord Levid emerged from the wall of animated corpses.

"I... I'm dreaming?" Sidney asked, desperately hoping the answer would be a yes.

"No." the monkey dashed his hopes. Like Uraou, Lord Levid was just as he was in life-- up to and including a blade-sized hole in his chest, "Die already." the monkey sneered, "Die, and end this pathetic excuse for existence for the both of us." the dead king sneered, "Die... Sid.... ney." the once-king's eyes gleaned with the same eerie, soulless light as the rest of them and, just like the rest, his voicing of the fox's name was otherworldly.

"So..." Sidney glanced left then right, desperately seeking escape, but finding none, "...so I'm... not dead?"

"No..." Finneas' voice came from directly beside him, and the fox jumped, sliding along the wall in an attempt to escape the mouse, who was shackled against the stone inches away, "I put a blade through yer 'eart... yeh be dead... just like all o' us." the mouse sneered, "... yeh got everything in life... now yeh get nothin' in death... you're just another one o' us now... no favorites 'ere, Sid.... ney..." the spite was obvious in Finneas' voice though, as with all others, the fox's name came out barely tangible... ethereal... distant.

"Sidney." the speaking of his name was distinctly different from the rest; it was purposeful, direct, and authoritative. Turning, Sidney regarded the speaker: Tharis.

"Tharis?" the fox was in shock at seeing the bull, somehow more real than the phantasms from his past, "I--"

"Shh..." the bull directed, and, in the sudden silence, Sidney heard his name called again. It was the same voice that emerged from each of the dead, and yet, despite how otherworldly, it somehow felt more real. "This reality is not for you." Tharis spoke.

"There are--" and, looking back to the slaves surrounding him, Sidney realized that he and the bull were suddenly alone, "What's going on?" he asked plaintively.

The old slave moved up to him and rested a paw on Sidney's shoulder as he gazed around at their surroundings, "This is a piece of your past." he spoke the words as if addressing the fox's question, though Sidney didn't feel as though he received an answer.

"This was where I was put when I was brought to Pross." Sidney glanced to the wall, drawing his paw across the rough rock. "You are between." the bull announced.

"Between what?" the fox questioned.

"Between life and death." Tharis answered, motioning around the pit, "You think of this as death." the old slave stated simply, pulling the fox away from the wall and into an embrace, "Your body is ready to die." the words were calm and collected, and held a strong note of sadness to them.

"But--!"

The bull interrupted him by raising his muzzle, pushing up on the underside of his chin. Tharis smiled down at him, "Your spirit isn't."

For several moments Sidney said nothing, merely gazing up at the handsome, regal face of his lover, and Sidney spoke earnestly, "You should have been King, Tharis." he closed his eyes and pressed his head into the bull's chest, "You should have been king."

"And you should have died..." Tharis responded calmly, "But fate chose different... for both of us."

"I think that fate only brings people pain." the fox whispered; the older slave chuckled softly in response.

Sidney looked up at the bull, who smiled down at him. Slowly disengaging, Tharis placed his hands on the fox's waist, "Don't think about this place again, Sidney."

Looking around at the dark, barren surroundings, Sidney shivered slightly, "I always think about it." he admitted, "It changed everything." he let out a breath, attempting to steady himself and fight back the urge to shiver in fear, "...part of me died in this pit."

"And the rest of you lived." Tharis countered, lifting the fox up off the ground. Sidney gazed across at eye-level as the bull held him there, "Don't let this pit take all of you."

"I..." the fox spoke, his voice cracking as he looked into the face of his lover, "...I don't want to die."

The bull smiled, "You won't..." and continued raising the fox toward the lip of the pit. Light began to surround Sidney and the ground beneath Tharis' hooves faded into the illumination, "Some day you will... but not today."

"Sid...ney..." the disembodied voice spoke again, calling to him from the light.

"I don't want to die..." Sidney repeated quietly.

"Good." Tharis smiled, the rest of his body consumed by the ever-increasing light, leaving only the bull's face gazing up at the fox, who continued to rise up and away from the disappearing pit, "...then start living."

"Sid...ney..." the voice was louder, more distinct.

"I don't want to die..." Sidney whispered, and then screamed out in pain as the searing light lanced into his being from all directions at once. The burning affliction that struck him felt twice as agonizing as the blade that pierced his heart and it centered in his chest.

The stillness was broken in one pulsing beat which, the fox realized, was his heart... and he crumpled forward and to the side, coming to a stop as two arms reached out to support him in a comforting embrace, "Shh... I have you now, Sidney... I have you." the speaker's voice was the same as the one that had been speaking his name, and he suddenly knew who it was that had been calling to him.

Crying out, Sidney collapsed into Lord Hector. Gasping, the fox felt as though his entire body were on fire, but the sensation came to a head with the wet sound of metal being drawn from flesh and, suddenly, Sidney took in a deep breath, feeling the pain from Finneas' blade flow in reverse. Standing by his side, Bane tossed the bloody weapon to the ground, and moved closer to where the fox lay within Lord Hector's grasp.

Sidney went to reach up, but he moaned feebly as an arcing cascade of bluish-green light crackled up and down his arm; only then did the fox realize that he was in the work shed. "Shhh..." Lord Hector offered quietly, "...do not move, Sidney... remember... do not move." The request was not a hard one to follow as, a few moments later, the fox passed out.

* * * * * *

Sidney awoke to rays of dappled sunlight dancing across his eyelids as a cool, fresh breeze flowed through his fur. Expecting to be painfully aching all over, the fox grimaced as he adjusted his position, but was astonished to find that there was no pain, only tightness and fatigue in his muscles. Just as surprising, however, was the fact that he propped himself up against a tree, his paws pressing into soft soil and dew-moistened grass.

"Wha-?" he voiced, words stifled as thousands of thoughts flowed simultaneously through his confused mind. Turning at the sound of something massive moving beside him, the fox saw Maern. The stallion was seated in his usual, patient way, ears up, eyes calm and reassuring.

"Good morning, my lord." the horse greeted him in Vensian with a casual smile, as if Sidney had just awoken from a nap and not--

"GYAH!" the fox gasped, paws going to his chest. He winced when his fingers touched a bandage, but was surprised to find that there was no pain, "I--!" he exhaled, turning to look at Maern. The stallion's ears were still up, and his head was cocked to the side inquisitively. "Finneas... he--" Sidney stopped having started speaking Prossian, but started again in Vensian, "Finneas attacked me."

"I could not get to you." the stallion acknowledged simply, the words coming out as one of the most heartfelt requests for forgiveness that the fox had ever heard despite the lack of an actual apology.

"I know, Maern." Sidney nodded, "It's not your fault."

"Before that..." the stallion explained, "I fought beside Dorias when you were taken, but we were defeated." the comment was straight forward and lacked any self reproach; the fox realized immediately what the large slave was getting at.

"Your Sorra..." Sidney nodded, "I know, Maern. Thank you for..." the fox paused, trying to find the right word, "uhm... 'an filian'?"

A wide grin spread across Maern's muzzle, "You mean to say 'trying'." he stated, using the words 'an finian'.

"Right." Sidney acknowledged, watching the horse's continued smirk. "What?" he asked, "What's so funny?"

"What you said means something else." Maern's smile slowly faded, but the faintest gleam of humor remained in the stallion's eyes.

"Why?" the fox sat up a little straighter once he realized that he didn't feel as injured as he had feared, "What did I say?"

"Ye thanked 'im for pleasin' ye orally." Dorias announced in Prossian, his hooves thumping softly amidst the grass-covered sod as he approached.

Sidney flushed deeply, but he ignored the embarrassment as he regarded the yak, who used a rough cut branch to support his weight as he walked. Dorias' fur was stained red in some areas, apparently having taken his fair share of wounds, but he seemed none the worse for wear, "Where are we?" the fox inquired, looking around at the rows of trees surrounding them.

Inspecting his surroundings for the first time, Sidney realized that he was at the edge of a simple camp. He recognized Ian, Bane's Sarvistine servant; the lizard was carrying what looked like two bed rolls off into a thicker section of trees.

"An orchard." the yak responded, letting out a breath as he settled himself within reach of Sidney. Dorais uncorked a water skin and took a long drink from it, then handed it down to the fox, "We're on our way t'Lord Talvin's estate."

"Lord Talvin's home?" he asked, then accepted the open skin. Until the moment the water hit his tongue, Sidney didn't realize just how thirsty he was. He continued drinking, squeezing on the water skin until it was completely deflated. Stifling a burp, he returned the empty container to Dorias, "Thank you." he announced, then rubbed his stomach as it grumbled hungrily, "I... uh..." he blushed again, "I didn't realize how--"

"Ye were out fer two days, Sidney." the old slave responded calmly, "No eed t'apologize." the yak rolled up the empty water skin, "I'll let Lord 'ector an' Bane know ye've come 'round." Dorias motioned back toward the far side of the camp, and that's when Sidney's eyes fell upon Choel, who was burying the campfire pit.

"Choel?!" the fox yipped.

The tiger looked up from his work, ears raising as he regarded Sidney. A smile spread across Choel's muzzle; he raised a paw and gave a friendly wave.

Sidney paused for a moment, then looked to the yak, "Choel is alive?" he felt compelled to ask, having had far too many strange situations with seeing the dead.

"Aye. Bane saved 'im with some Tenvierian know-'ow." Dorias acknowledged, motioning with his head, "as ye can see, 'e's right there." the yak turned to wave the tiger onward back to his duties. Choel frowned, but complied. "Maern'll 'elp ye... wagon's just a little further that way." he motioned toward the trees, and started trotting off that direction.

"Dorias?" Sidney called.

The yak stopped and glanced back, "Aye, Sidney?"

"What happened at Lord Hector's estate after I..." the fox felt his stomach churn at the memory, "after I fell?"

Dorias' answer was cryptic, "Th' battle ended, an' we saved 'oo we could... like Choel." He didn't remain nearby for a follow-up question, heading back across the camp, disappearing into the same trees that Ian had traveled through. Choel used the shovel to pat the dirt down onto the fire pit, hefted the shovel up over his shoulder, and followed the yak.

Sidney turned to Maern after that; the horse had stood and was picking two apples from the boughs overhead. The stallion, noticing that he held the fox's attention, sat back down next to him and offered up an apple. "Here, my Lord." Maern stated in Vensian, "You're hungry."

Pausing for a moment, Sidney accepted the apple. His stomach rumbled again, and his mouth watered in anticipation of something to eat, but he set it in his lap for a moment and questioned the stallion in Vensian, "What happened at Lord Hector's estate after I fell?"

Maern leaned over onto his side and pulled his legs out from under himself, moving over to the tree to lean up against it much in the same way Sidney was. The tree was relatively small, and required the stallion to be back-to-back with the fox. Sidney heard the sound of Maern bite into the apple, and the large horse chewed for a few moments before speaking up, "Everything stopped." he finally said, "The white wolf killed the mouse that hurt you, and the rest of the slaves gave up."

"After Finneas died?" Sidney asked, picking up his own apple again. He looked at it, turning it around in his paw; it had been a long time since he'd eaten fresh fruit. "Why did they surrender when Finneas died?"

"I do not know, my lord." Maern responded, and the fox heard the crisp crunch of the stallion taking another bite. "Lord Heck-tur said that he is to blame for not seeing signs of darkness in the mouse." The stallion continued talking but Sidney, no longer able to resist the call of the apple, bit into it, savoring the sweet flavor. In a span of seconds, he had devoured the entire thing, core and all, "... and that is why he is leading us away."

Feeling suddenly sheepish at not paying attention to the answer he'd requested, Sidney opened his muzzle to speak, but his stomach grumbled anew. He heard a faint chuckle behind him, followed by a firm *thump* as the stallion threw his weight against the tree; Sidney was startled, surprise as a short shower of apples pelted him from above. "Um..." the fox's ears flushed, "thank you."

"Of course, my lord." Maern acknowledged, taking another bite of his apple.

Sidney was content to take another apple as well, eating it with just as much eagerness as the first. He devoured a third a little more deliberately, and then slowed down while working on his fourth, finally taking time to sit and enjoy the moment, all quiet save for his own crunching mirrored behind him by Maern. The fox was contemplating a fifth when he saw Bane come into view, strolling casually but purposefully toward him.

"Maern." the wolf spoke.

"Yes?" the stallion questioned in Vensian, rising up and moving to stand beside where Sidney sat against the tree.

Bane motioned over his shoulder back the way from which he had come, "Go help Lord Hector ready the wagon." Maern casually crossed his arms in front of his chest and made no indication that he was about to go anywhere. Clearing his throat, the wolf looked to the fox and switched to Prossian, "Sidney... if you please?" he gestured to the unmoving stallion.

"Maern?" Sidney turned to regard the large warrior.

"Yes?"

"Please help Lord Hector with the wagon." the fox repeated Bane's earlier request.

"Yes, my lord." Maern obediently started off that direction, turning to look at Bane as the two passed one another. The wolf walked by without providing the stallion so much as a glance, moving over to where Sidney sat. Unlike when he was Lord Talvin, Bane was dressed casually with a thick, long-sleeved tunic and hearty-looking britches.

Taking a seat beside the fox, the wolf picked up one of the fallen apples in a gloved paw. "This was Lord Kaelyng's orchard."

"Lord Kaelyng?" Sidney questioned. The name was familiar and, for a moment, he could picture the dour, worry-worn face of a a graying-furred goat. He also realized that he had never actually met, or so much as seen Lord Kaelyng.

"You know him?" Bane questioned, glancing at the fox out of the corner of his eye.

"I..." Sidney paused, "I don't know."

"You remember things about him." the wolf stated as much as questioned.

"I shouldn't." Sidney objected, "He lives too far away from Lord Bulhue or Lord Hector for me to have ever met him."

"So you know where his estate is?" the wolf inquired, a faint smirk inching its way across his muzzle, "And how is it, do you think that you know where his estate is if you have never met the old goat?"

Sidney opened his muzzle to offer an explanation, but realized when no words came out that he didn't have one. "I don't know." he admitted, turning again toward the wolf, who was fully facing him at that point, grinning from ear to ear.

"I do."

"You what?" the fox asked, pushing against the ground with his paws in a display of sitting up while, in truth, he used the motion to ease himself back a few inches away from the wolf.

"I know why you know what you know..." Bane answered, "and why you have the royal seal..." lowering his voice, the wolf leaned forward an added quietly, "and why you can still see that bull of yours... and the king."

Sidney was, at that moment, both repulsed and intrigued, simultaneously wanting to escape the knowing gaze of the wolf and to beg him for answers to questions he had been unable to have addressed. In the end, it was the second inclination that won out and, with one word, he chose his road: "How?"

Bane balanced the apple he held on a single finger and, with a slow, deliberate motion, off-balanced it, causing it to pitch backward onto the bridge of his paw. From there it rolled down to his wrist. The wolf raised his arm as the apple fell, guiding its trip down his forearm to the crook of his elbow, and then it rolled into the palm of his other waiting paw... a paw, Sidney realized, that had doffed its glove. The fox stared when he realized that several glowing runes shone brightly on Bane's flesh, "You..." Sidney noted, flustered, "you have those symbols..."

"I had indeed noticed." the wolf confirmed, raising his second paw as he twisted his wrist and let go of the apple. Sidney watched as the fruit rolled down the inside of Bane's forearm. As the apple fell, the wolf rotated his shoulder so that the falling fruit rolled around to his waiting elbow, which, with a flick, collided with the apple and punted it into the air to land in one of Sidney's opened paws, "We are alike in that." Bane noted.

"In..." the fox looked down at the apple, "in what?" he gazed back to Bane, who was standing again.

"Only one kind of person wears the 'Fildoma' marks." Bane noted, slipping the glove back over his runed paw.

Sidney paused at the Vensian words, "The 'to be able to' marks?"

His companion chuckled, "Fildoma." he enunciated, "Not 'fil doma'." the difference was faint, but Sidney caught it nevertheless.

"What do they mean?" the fox questioned, resting his hand over the rune on his chest which, he was surprised to see, began glowing when Bane revealed his own.

The wolf grinned, "It means that you are a Soraan."

"Soraan?" Sidney froze, "You mean... one of the people who..." he swallowed a knot developing in his throat, "Like the people who gave Lord Hector his Sorra? Or Maern his?"

"Not all Soraani tell the future, Sidney." Bane explained casually, inspecting his gloved paw, "just many of them."

"Do you?"

The wolf chuckled, "Sometimes I would like to think I do but, no, Sidney... I am not a teller of fate.... I am merely fate touched." and Bane turned more fully to regard Sidney, "Though you... you are special."

"I..." Sidney slowly stood up, taking a step back as he looked at the certain-something in Bane's eyes he'd come too well to acknowledge as plotting, "...how am I... special?"

"You, Sidney, are fate touched, and then some." Bane grinned, and slowly turned away, starting off in the direction from which he had come.

"What do you mean?" Sidney moved to follow, pausing only for half a step when he realized that somehow, somewhere along the way, asking questions had started to come easier.

"There are hundreds of thousands of people in the kingdoms, Sidney." Bane stated simply, continuing on his way as the fox jogged to catch up, "Although any one of them is the center of his or her own story, their lives mean little."

"Lord Hector always says that everyone's life means something." the fox countered.

"So it does." the wolf acknowledged simply, "Let me try explaining this a different way." he took several steps before starting over, "Every life has meaning... but the meaning from one life to the next changes." he pointed to the apple that Sidney forgot he was still holding, "There were a number of apples on the ground, and yet that one is the one you're carrying right now. why is that?"

"You gave this one to me." Sidney answered, one ear turning in confusion, "...not the other ones."

"But why THAT apple?" Bane questioned.

"I don't know." the fox responded simply, "YOU're the one who chose it."

The wolf laughed calmly, "Perhaps we are overstepping your grasp of philosophy..."

"Are you comparing apples to people?" Sidney asked.

Bane chuckled, "I suppose I am." and he slowly slid an arm over the fox's shoulder, "Come, Sidney... a discussion on fate can wait for another day."

The two walked on in silence for several more steps before the fox spoke up anew, "You said you knew I could still see Tharis..."

"Indeed." Bane nodded, "And you know about things you can't possibly know... such as Lord Kaelyng." the wolf smirked, "And you have a glowing rune on your chest."

"The royal seal." Sidney elaborated.

"So it is." Bane nodded, removing his arm from Sidney's shoulder, "And a Fildoma."

"Which means I'm a Soraan." the fox articulated.

"Yes." the wolf acknowledged then, with a sly glance toward Sidney also added, "You are a carried apple."

The fox came to a halt at that, brain working through the realization of Bane's comment. He flicked an ear, turning to regard his white furred companion, who had also stopped, ears up, "Soraan means 'one of fate'... doesn't it?"

"It does." Bane nodded.

"They're not called that because they see the future..." Sidney ventured.

"...go on." the wolf invited.

The fox held the apple up, "You said there's a lot of different kinds of Soraani..."

"There are." Bane nodded, with a smile.

"Tharis was one too..." Sidney turned to regard the wolf, "wasn't he?"

"He was." Bane acknowledged.

The fox's ears fell, "...but he died. He was born into slavery, and he was a slave his entire life. He didn't mean anything special to fate."

The wolf raised an eyebrow, and strode back to where Sidney stood. Without saying a word, Bane reached out and pressed his finger to the softly glowing rune on Sidney's chest. Drawing his paw back, the wolf about-faced and strode onward toward the wagon that awaited them, "I beg to differ... he accomplished something very special."

Fighting back tears that threatened to escape, Sidney swallowed, let out a breath, and ran to catch up to the wolf, "Does that mean that I'm... important?" he questioned, "...that... that my life means something?"

Bane chuckled softly, "Lord Hector always says that everyone's life means something." The wolf shot Sidney a look that reminded him that it was the fox that had said the words first.

He came to a stop when the wolf did. They stood on a slight embankment overlooking a dirt path. While it was hardly a highway proper for a Lord's carriage, the wagon that awaited them would never have been mistaken for one anyway. The simple transport looked more suitable for bringing vegetables to the market rather than conducting a Lord through the countryside. "That isn't Lord Hector's carriage." Sidney stated the obvious.

"No, it isn't." Bane agreed, "It is not a safe time to be a lord." he leaned forward, sliding nimbly down the loose dirt and gravel. He turned around and waited for Sidney to pick his way more carefully along the incline. "Lord Hector travels incognito because it is much safer to be a nameless traveler than a target."

"A target?" Sidney asked.

"Lords are as likely to be killed as not." the wolf explained, approaching the wagon, "Pross is undergoing a great change, Sidney... and we are currently at the center of it all."

"Which is not somewhere I desire to be for long." Lord Hector announced. The stag was helping Choel lift a collection of supplies into the wagon.

"My troops have taken Lord Talvin's manor, Hector." Bane explained, "You are free to take what supplies you and yours need." he glanced to the half-dozen individuals in the wagon; Sidney recognized both Gaius and Gralz; the leather worker was nursing a wounded arm while the wolverine, who had a bloody eye patch and numerous bandages, was being seen to by Dorias. "Those who remained loyal to you will also have my protection, and are free to pursue their own ends."

"Their own ends?" Sidney asked of the wolf.

Bane nodded with a wry grin, "Before he left his estate, Hector released all of his slaves."

"And 'Indentureds'." Bane's ocelot noted from the front of the wagon, giving Gauis a pat on his shoulder, mindful of the porcupine's quills.

"This is everyone?" Sidney asked, looking around at the wagon and its inhabitants. Maern and Ian were lifting some of the heavier camp goods into the wagon as Hector helped Choel up.

"No." Bane answered in a neutral tone, "Most everyone has gone their own way... the men you see here are still Hector's men."

"But..." Sidney paused, "I thought Lord Hector freed them."

"Aye." Dorias confirmed from his place on the wagon, "that 'e did."

"But now we can CHOOSE to be his men." Choel acknowledged, giving the stag a hearty slap on the back.

Lord Hector stood, and moved to the edge of the wagon as Bane climbed up to join the ocelot at the driver's seat. "Come." he invited, holding a paw out for the fox, "There is a place for you as well, Sidney... if you would like."

The fox gazed at the many eyes on him, then back to the stag. Feeling his heart swell to near bursting, Sidney realized the choice was his, but then again, he realized there never really was a choice to be made. Accepting the hand, Sidney climbed up into the wagon; while it was no lord's carriage, it was the finest transportation he had ever known.

Moving with the stag to the front of the wagon, the two of them took up position behind the driver. Once the wagon got started, he closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the fresh air on his face. The voices behind him talked about anything and everything, some in Prossian, and some in Vensian. After a short time, Maern stood and came to stand beside Sidney, resting a large hand on the fox's shoulder.

Despite the serenity he felt surrounded by what he could only describe as his family, Sidney still felt a gnawing question had been left unanswered. "Lord Ta--" he paused, his inquiry disrupted by a pointed cough from Lord Hector, "Bane?"

"Yes, my dear vulpine?" the white wolf questioned, eyes still on the road, not bothering to turn around in response, though an ear swiveled back in interest.

"You said..." he paused, resting his paw over the softly glowing mark on his chest, "You said that... that people like us are... um... important."

"Yes." Bane acknowledged, obviously picking up on what Sidney was implying.

"Do you know why I'm... uh... one of us?" the fox asked, faltering with his question, "What it is I'm supposed to do?"

The wolf flicked an ear, turning just enough so he could glance at Sidney out of the corner of his eye, and the smile that spread his lips was the widest yet, "No, sweet fox... I have no idea..." he winked before looking back to the road, "but THAT is what makes freedom so wonderful."

With a crack of the reins, Bane urged the wagon forward, moving even faster into whatever lay ahead. For the first time, Sidney realized that the future is what he would make of it. He felt scared; he felt apprehensive; he felt excited. More than that, however, surrounded by his comrades, lovers, followers, friends, mentors, companions... Sidney, for the first time in his life, felt ready.