Chapter 30: The Hidden Place

Story by Tesslyn on SoFurry

, , , , ,

#30 of Fox Hunt 3: Sword and Stone

Quite a few of these next chapters are clean. (sorry bout that)


The Hidden Place

Chapter 30

Asres knew that going to Wychowl and seeking Etienne's help was the only thing he could do. Or at least . . . that's what he kept telling himself. He prayed to Maret to help him find Zeinara and Yeneneshe, but the goddess gave him not a whisper. He feared that Maret was displeased. He had allowed Zeinara to slip his grasp before he was even able to speak to her! In the morning, he and Gallus were alone in the burrow, without so much as a note from Yeneneshe, who had rifled through their food store before departing. Asres could only assume she had left willingly with Zeinara and the red vixen, as there was no sign of a struggle in the house - and Yeneneshe would have struggled.

Asres dressed at once, and he and Gallus searched the forest for hours, but the three females were long gone. Asres prayed they had not been foolish enough to journey to S'pru. Bad things were happening there. On a moonless night, one could see the fire in the sky, reflected from the gleaming golden orb known as the Second Sun. S'pru was burning. And Asres knew it could only mean one thing: The Second Light was dead. He knew what that had to mean for Etienne. With Azrian's death, it was all the more reason for him to journey to Wychowl, if not to support his friend.

The way to Wychowl was not far. Even if they had to approach Varimore on foot, Curith was one of its neighboring kingdoms, and the nearby town of Conwil one of its border settlements. Curith was the land of Ayni's children, and as a result, there were many shrines with portals deep in the forest that could take them to Statney Grove, the forest just outside of Thalsin, Varimore's capital and the city where WychowlCastle stood. Asres could only hope the tribes living in Statney hadn't shut off access for fear of Ayni's followers attacking them. Though the rare skirmish occurred every now and again, there had been relative peace between the tribes in the last twenty or so years. With so many tribes having retreated to S'pru, Ayni's followers were the only foxes left on Aonre in abundance. If Ayni truly wanted her children to rise, attacking Azrian and destroying her kingdom was a decisive first step. It would ensure that her foxes remained the majority and therefore in control of Aonre's forests. Asres couldn't imagine any other god would attack S'pru. And it was widely known that Ayni despised Azrian.

As they approached a moss-covered shrine, Asres could tell Gallus was very anxious and unhappy but was suffering in silence because he loved Asres and wanted to help him. And Asres felt terrible. He didn't want to force Gallus to return to a place that frightened him. Gallus likely thought he would be taken into custody again and made a slave. He was probably the first Beauceron in existence who actually wanted_his freedom, because for the first time in his life, Gallus had something that _required his freedom.

"I won't let them take you," Asres said as they climbed the step of the shrine. He was leaning on his staff and squeezed the big dog's fingers with his free paw. "I promise."

Gallus smiled down at him, his eyes gleaming affection. Asres thought he must have found it very amusing to have his small lover promising to protect him, but they both knew Asres was still moderately powerful, even if his ordeal with Maret had taken his gifts.

The shrine was incredibly old, one of the original network that had been constructed during the time of ancient foxes. The stone was cracked, the surrounding statues broken, and the entire platform was webbed over in green moss and flowered vines. It was hardly surprising. Asres had taken them down a very deep, forgotten path of the forest. The shrine was in a place walled off by ancient walls and overrun with wild flowers, weeds, and tall grass. As a result, even the wildlife could not reach it, and the place was a haven for birds and insects alone. Sunlight filtered in yellow beams across the flowers, and birds hopped in old birdbaths, twittering to the blue sky. Butterflies drifted lazily and ladybugs crept up trees. Asres glanced around and couldn't hold back a smile. This was only a glimmer of what wonders his ancestors had created, and now it belonged to him. He liked to think of the place as his secret garden. He had come to it so many times in those years when he was mourning his loved ones, and the little place had comforted him with its stillness, beauty, and warmth. This hidden place.

"You never told me about this place," Gallus realized. He glanced around, his black mane falling back from his eyes, his lips parted in awe. "It's beautiful!"

_You're beautiful,_Asres thought, smiling as he watched the handsome Beauceron. Gallus wore no shirt, and the black fur on his sculpted chest glistened in the sunlight. He turned around in wonder, momentarily showing Asres the tight muscles of his back, then lifted a big paw to let a yellow butterfly land on his finger. His eyes were soft as he watched its wings slowly opening and closing.

Tearing his eyes away, Asres approached the panel on the shrine, beside which the archway stood. Either side of the archway were statues of male foxes, great penises hanging, gazes stern, stone manes beating back in an imaginary wind, and great wings imposing as falcons. The stone foxes towered over Asres and Gallus, touching the archway with wings spread and one paw offering, as if to welcome travelers. They were the only statues that were unharmed and in one piece. Asres glanced at them and knew they were the sons of Ayni.

It was an old tradition long dead, that of creating demigods. Ayni hadn't produced a half-god in thousands of years when Hellene came into existence. But in the old days - according to Asres' father - it was custom for a tribe to offer their finest virgin once every hundred years. The gods would then take said virgin and produce a demigod from her. In those days, demigods often served as extensions of their parent's will on the mortal plane, as the gods themselves could not come to Aonre without risk of physical harm. In Skkye, the gods were untouchable against all save each other, but on Aonre, they could bleed and die like any other, and the atmosphere slowly siphoned their life energy.

During the time of the ancients, Ayni had produced many Sons of Fire, while Ti'uu had produced Daughters of the Water. But as the years passed, the gods requested virgins less and less, withdrawing further into Skkye, until demigods stopped appearing at all. Much like Hellene, Azrian must have been the first Daughter of the Water in thousands of years.

No Seer could remember the last time Maret had produced a demigod. Taiga was the first princess in eons who the goddess had taken an especial interest in, and how proud their family had been, so eager to please Maret as they were. Until Etienne disillusioned him, Asres had been among the proudest. But the very thought made him sick to his stomach now: if not for the gods and their petty games, Taiga would still be alive.

"Why are they foxes, mi sihle?" Gallus asked.

Jolted from his thoughts, it took Asres a moment to realized Gallus was standing beside him. The Beauceron was gazing open-mouthed at the statues of the Sons of Fire, his head tilted back, his long black mane falling away over strong shoulders.

Asres' eyes danced over the panel, looking for the symbol that marked Statney Grove. Statney Grove was the forest from which Gallus and Yeneneshe had fled twenty years before. He could only imagine what it had been like for Gallus, fleeing through the forest with armed mastiffs pursuing him, a sobbing child in his arms, and he only a child himself. He told Asres that he and Yeneneshe were spotted while leaving Wychowl and were relentlessly pursued. He'd been forced to take his first life that night. It was something that hadn't been easy and would get no easier if he had to do it again. But Gallus had been more than willing to protect Yeneneshe and seemed willing enough to protect Asres as well, whatever the cost.

Present-day Gallus was holding a spear with a blade carved of whalebone, the bone having been acquired from one of the dog merchants that passed through their forest. A bow and quiver were on his back and a skinning knife was in his boot; a white feather was in his black mane and another hung around his thick neck. Asres thought he looked more the wild warrior than any fox warrior he'd ever known. . . . except, perhaps, Feven.

"What do you mean?" Asres asked.

"Well, the gods are birds, right?" Gallus said and waved a paw at the other broken statues, all of which were winged bird entities.

"No," Asres answered. "The gods are elemental spirits - fire, water, light, darkness. Others embody emotion. Joy . . . compassion . . . love. They take the form of birds because they favor it. They could take any form they wished, though."

"But their pups come out like foxes?"

"The demigods look however their mortal parent looked. Hellene's mortal father, for instance, was the dog lord Louis, while her immortal mother was Ayni. So she looked like a dog. The gods don't really have physical bodies. "

"Wait . . . you once told me the gods would kill a mortal if they slept with it."

Because Gallus was once worried that Maret would want to sleep with Asres. Asres smiled to himself as he remembered. "That's right."

"So how is this even . . .?"

"Possible?" Asres supplied. "When they come to the mortal plane, the gods become mortal. But looking one in the face can still kill us. So while it's dangerous to mate with them, it's still possible."

"Oh." Gallus frowned, and Asres knew he was struggling to understand what had been said to him. But Asres didn't love Gallus for his keen mind. He loved him for his gentle and loyal heart.

"And . . . when we get to Wychowl," Gallus said uncertainly and scratched his ears.

"Yes?" Asres' eyes scanned the panel. Many of the different symbols had been scratched out, closing off the portal's connection to their respective shrines. The portal to a place with the smudged words Sum Va_had been scratched out with vehemence but somehow, was still glowing and active. Someone had attempted to cut off the portal to SumVa and the attempt had been one of desperate violence. But why? Asres squinted at the symbols and pushed a leaf off the first word. _Sum . . . Summer Val . . .

"You told me how you finally saw the truth about Feven," Gallus went on. "You realized that he cared more about pleasing the gods than your wellbeing." He sounded unhappy and his back was to Asres. Whenever his back was to Asres, he was in earnest.

Asres sighed and glanced up from the panel. "This is about Etienne, isn't it?"

"Yes," Gallus admitted heavily. "You would never say it, but it was always clear that you cared a great deal for him. . . . He helped you stand up to Feven, after all . . ." His voice trailed away.

Asres shook his head, and forgetting the panel, he came to Gallus and took his paws. "Whatever I may have felt for Etienne once," he said, squeezing his lover's fingers, "that is over, mi gilana."

Gallus smiled, and looking into his eyes, Asres could see the relief there. It amazed him. Did Gallus truly think Asres was in love with Etienne? He would be the first to admit he had a certain admiration for him, and he could not deny the attraction, but love? No. It was Taiga who had loved Etienne.

"Besides, it was my sister who loved Etienne," Asres said and turned back to the panel. He smiled when Gallus drew close, and he could feel the big Beauceron's gentle fingers stroking his mane down his back.

"So you just have a dog fetish," Gallus teased.

Asres laughed softly. Yes, what would his parents say? What would Feven say . . .

"You're too anxious to find the right symbol," Gallus noticed sympathetically. He massaged Asres' shoulders with his strong fingers. "Take a breath and relax, mi sihle. Everything will be alright."

Asres took a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, there it was. Statney Grove. He hesitated and touched the symbol. Light swirled at once within the archway, setting the Sons of Fire aglow with its red brilliance.

Gallus stared apprehensively at the newly activated portal. "Why does it look so . . . ominous?"

Asres took the big dog's arm. "Come on. We've no time to waste!"

They stepped through the light together, and like all portals, the shift was instantaneous. They emerged in a forest where the sky was awash with pinks and golds. Dusk had already crept upon Statney Grove and it would be dark soon. All around, birds sang the day to a close as the bitter wind swept cold against their fur.

As the light whirled shut behind Asres and Gallus, they went still to notice the white fox who was seated on the weathered step of the shrine. He was young and fit, perhaps somewhere around Yeneneshe's age, and was sitting with his back to them. He appeared to be in such deep contemplation that he didn't even hear it when the portal activated behind him. His chin was on his fist and he was staring off into the trees with a sad frown that touched Asres at once. He was wrapped in a wolfskin coat and a deerskin skirt, and he was alone. But it only took him a moment to realize that was no longer the case. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Asres and Gallus, and scrambled to his feet, clumsily juggling a staff that had almost fallen from his grasp. Ah. He was a sorcerer, then.

"Don't come any closer!" the young male warned. Now that he was facing them, Asres could see the red blotch that covered his left eye. His long white mane hung loose around a handsome face and square jaw, and his eyes were such a light gray, they were nearly transparent as ice. A small dagger hung around his throat, and it was still swinging wildly from his scramble.

"Alright," Asres said calmly, "we won't." He and Gallus didn't move.

The young male seemed taken aback by their compliance. His pale eyes narrowed, as if he thought they were tricking him. "Very funny. Who are you? What do you want? I don't have any food on me."

"We mean you no harm," Gallus said in his deep voice. "We were just passing through."

Asres frowned sympathetically. "Why are you alone here?"

"Tch," said the young male and dropped his defensive stance. He leaned against his staff and appraised them curiously. "Where else would I be? I've no where to go."

Asres felt his sympathies deepen. After the great earthquakes and the mass migration to S'pru, there had been many foxes left behind on Aonre, who traveled alone, who bore the same sad stories. Their wives had died in the earthquakes or had left them for the "better" world in the sky, taking their children and all they possessed with them. Or they had lost their tribes to the quakes, and in the ensuing chaos, dogs captured and killed their families for pelts. There was no doubt in Asres' mind that the young male standing before them had such a tale. In creating S'pru, Asres had to wonder if Azrian was aware of just how many lives she had broken in the process.

"Wherever you're going," the young male continued, "you'll need a warm fire for the night. It's going to get very cold. Might even rain."

Asres glanced at Gallus, but the big Beauceron shrugged and didn't seem against it - which was surprising, as Gallus was usually convinced every young fox they met was a part of the bandit gangs that had risen in place of the tribes. But Asres had the feeling the young male could be trusted, and for once, Gallus seemed to trust his intuition.

Asres smiled at the young fox. "Alright."

The young male jerked his head. "Come on. I've got a little camp this way."

They followed the young male through the trees, and as darkness fell, could see his camp emerge in the shadows. The camp consisted of a small tent made of animals skins, a crumpled bucket, and a barren fire pit. The young male squatted to stroke up the fire, setting aside his staff to do so, and Asres knew why he didn't simply use magic: he was conserving his magical energy in the likelihood that they were attacked.

"So what's your story?" the young male asked when they were all seated around the fire.

Asres was unhappy to notice a light rain had started. He pulled up his hood, and the other two did likewise. The rain came a little harder in response, pushing up steam from the fire. The young fox decided to heat up his leftover stew, and the smell was enough to make their bellies rumble. As the mist rose, Asres thought they probably looked like three hooded witches sitting over a cauldron.

"Don't see many dogs traveling with foxes these days," the young male remarked and eyed his guests curiously.

"We found each other when we were lost," Asres said, "many years ago." He smiled when Gallus kissed his paw. "Right now we're heading to Thalsin."

The young male snorted as he pushed a ladle through the stew. "Then you're mad," he said, looking at them incredulously. "You're a fox and a dog! And not any dog, but a Beauceron dog. They'll enslave one of you or both of you before you've barely entered the gate! That's assuming, of course, that they don't murder you on sight."

"I know the king," Asres said and immediately felt foolish.

The young male snorted. "Now tell me another one."

Asres' mouth twisted irritably. "It's true."

"Suppose it could be," the fox said and shrugged. "When I was a little cub, the king came through here. Guess I could say I know him too."

Asres' ears pricked forward, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Gallus' surprise. ". . . you knew the king?" Asres asked carefully.

"Yeah," the young male repeated with another careless shrug, and Asres thought he sounded bitter. "Can't say it did anything for me. Can't say it'll do anything for you." He started ladling stew into bowls and passed them around.

Asres and Gallus accepted their bowls gratefully. The young male had been right on both accounts: it was raining and it was getting cold. Having a hot bowl in their paws was soothing.

"If you're going to see Etienne," the young fox said slowly and eyed his guests with narrowed eyes, "I can only assume it's about the fire in the sky." He jerked his head at the stars. Behind him, yellow S'pru was aglow with orange fire.

"That's right," Asres confirmed, though there was more to it than that. "We're actually looking for someone who might have gone to the king. When Etienne came through here . . . did he have a fox with him? A vixen?" Asres tried to keep the hope from his voice, but the fox seemed to pick up on it anyway.

The young male eyed Asres a moment, and Asres could see the pity in his eyes. He was realizing that Asres - like every fox left behind on S'pru - likely had a sob story. He dropped his eyes to his stew. "No," he said. "Etienne was traveling with a bunch of dogs, no foxes. . . . I'm sorry."

Asres dropped his eyes to his own stew and felt the sympathetic look Gallus passed him. So Taiga hadn't traveled with Etienne through Statney Grove. Still, she was alive long enough to give Zeinara to him! Which meant she could have easily found a shrine and teleported to Statney.

"What's your story?" Gallus asked the fox and eyed him skeptically.

Ah. He's suspicious after all, Asres thought and glanced reprovingly at his lover.

But Gallus was adamant. He ignored Asres and stared down the young male, waiting for an answer.

"No, it's alright," said the fox when he noticed Asres' silent scolding. He cleared his throat and said to the fire, "I belonged to one of Kutre's tribes. As you likely know, many of Kutre's children settled in Varimore once resources became scarce in Krodor."

It was common knowledge by now, so Asres did know. Some decades ago, Krodor practically stripped their forests bare to meet the rising demands for resources after an invasion of a desert kingdom. When Queen Donica swept in to the rescue, they wound up in debt to Varimore, on top of losing many of their foxes to the kingdom. It was one of Donica's greatest triumphs and a campaign that secured the loyalty of the nine kingdoms to her rule. Her vicious drive to keep the desert dogs at bay forever won her a place in the hearts of her subjects.

"My tribe came here only a few decades ago," the young fox went on, "and the dogs here welcomed the migration. They value white pelts very_highly,_ after all," he said darkly. "And not having to go through Krodor to acquire them made them only too happy. Here in Varimore, my tribe lived in more fear than they ever had in Krodor, but at least we had food, and it was easy enough to hide. There are many forests in Varimore that the dogs think are haunted and they will not set foot where the spirits are angry. Since the earthquakes, they have called the Lyko haunted. Only the brave and the foolish come here."

Gallus raised his brows in confusion.

"The Lyko'Ninara," Asres explained. "It's what we call Statney Grove."

"Oh," Gallus said and tipped his bowl back for a gulp.

"As you've probably guessed," the young male went on, "many of my tribe died in the earthquakes, my mother included. I was but a child."

Asres frowned. "I'm so sorry," he said without really knowing why. What point was there in apologizing? The words must've rang hollow to the stranger, the same way they'd ring hollow if someone apologized to him for Feven. But he . . . didn't know what else to say. The young fox was the last of his tribe, the last remnant of a bygone era, hidden away in a forest where no outsiders could sully him . . . just like the hidden place.

"Your sympathy is acknowledged," the young male said politely. "Acknowledged but completely unnecessary. The wound is still there, but it is old." He smiled sadly. "Those who survived the quake were divided. Many wished to flee to S'pru, while many others believed Azrian responsible for the chaos that had killed their loved ones. I believed she was responsible, and I stayed behind with those who felt the same."

"But. . . ." Asres shook his head. "Why would you think . . .?" It had never occurred to him that Azrian was solely to blame for the earthquakes. He'd always blamed it on Ayni and Hellene's attempt to stop her creation of S'pru.

The young male scowled. "Who do you think was responsible? Who else was building an entire world in the sky?" He looked at Asres in disgust, as if he should have known better. "I wandered with those who had remained, but misfortunate befell us, one catastrophe after another, until I alone remained. And so I have stayed." His eyes dropped to the fire. "Ever since."

Asres frowned. "What about Kutre? Didn't she protect you?"

The young male slowly shook his head, as if he pitied Asres' naivety. "When have the gods ever cared for us unless they wanted something? How can you still think so much of them after all that has occurred?" His chest heaved and he said through his fangs, "Our blood cried out from the earth, and Kutre stood by, coldly indifferent. Not even her daughters came to care for us."

"Azrian would have come," Asres insisted. "She's not as bad as you --"

"How do you know?" the young male demanded hotly and his body tensed. "Have you met the Second Light? Have you looked into her eyes?"

Asres knew because there was no way Etienne could love someone who was that careless. He wanted to argue, but Gallus put a cautioning paw on his shoulder, and he released he was trying to justify the inaction of gods who had let the boy's family die. He realized he was being insensitive. So he said nothing. And looked at the fire.

The young male's burning eyes pierced Asres, waiting for a protest, but when none came, he looked at the fire again and swallowed guiltily. "I can lead you safely out of the forest. I know the way to Thalsin. My assistance will end at its gates."

"Thank you," Asres returned politely.

The young male looked at him steadily. "But I must warn you once more: Thalsin is dangerous. You should turn back, go back to whatever forests you came from."

Asres shook his head. "I can't go back. It's too important."

The young male nodded and dropped his eyes to his bowl of stew. "So be it."

They fell silent, eating their stew as the light rain pattered down. Gallus watched the young male in sympathy and it seemed his suspicion had waned. Catching Asres' eye, he smiled at him reassuringly. He always seemed to know when Asres was afraid.

And Asres was very afraid. The young male was right: the gods didn't care about them. The fact that Asres had to hunt down Zeinara to avoid Maret's wrath was proof enough. And he had never been inside a dog town before. Foxes who were foolish enough to enter the dog lands did not return. All the dogs he'd never known had entered his forest to hunt, to trade, or because they were lost. Before recent events, he had never been within a mile of a dog settlement. And he was afraid.

"We never told you our names," Gallus said, and Asres knew he was trying to sooth his fears by taking his mind off things. "I am Gallus. He is Asres."

The young fox paused over his stew as if introductions hadn't been expected.

Gallus smiled. "You didn't expect your altruism to pass between strangers, did you?"

The young fox slowly lowered his spoon. "Actually, I did. It is wiser to remain strange in these dark days. But alright." He smiled. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Asres and Gallus. . . . I am Teliso."