Of Bones and Blood
An original work of fiction by Alek Wise. Any characters resembling real people in this work are coincidence, as are any events or situations relating to real life. Please feel free to comment (constructive, positive comments only please. Negative comments will be disregarded) at your leisure by emailing me directly at alekwise84 (at) gmail (dot) com. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Bronze
The wind and ice cut fiercely at Adoran's exposed cheeks and eyes. Through squinted lids he gazed into the haze, seeing mere paces beyond the noses of the twin mist-born stalkers that carried him. Their swift strides and lightening fast reflexes were remarkably synced, as always. The sheer speed of the beasts made coping with the sharp flakes of ice and course wind nearly unbearable. Adoran's lashes and brows had frozen long ago, further hindering his ability to see. Frozen tears adorned his cheeks and temples, a chilled reminder that the raw fury of the winter winds could be tempered by no man.
Occasionally the giant cats would bound harshly to the left or right while navigating the white jungle around them, and their sudden dashes threw off Adoran's center of gravity. They dodged abandoned wagons, plows, and makeshift shelters that had been torn asunder by the raging winds. Not a sole lingered upon the icy road. The sights left Adoran with a foul taste in his mouth, and an itch creeping upward along his spine.
Adoran gripped the bridge of his saddle, which spanned the backs of both cats as they ran side-by-side. His knees, which had been locked in a cross-legged position for hours, ached when he adjusted his position to better control his balance. The beasts glanced at one another in tandem. Each motion one made, the other mirrored succinctly.
"Yes, I am finished moving about, friends. No, we have not yet arrived." Adoran's jaws forced their frozen hinges to pivot as he spoke. His words were muted, but the gentle beasts understood and plunged head on into a quicker pace.
Some time later Adoran found the path before him widening and the frozen foliage diminishing as he left behind the once lush jungle that now seemed coated in white bronze. The storm before him raged on, however. He did not see the city wall until his beasts were so close to it he thought they may very well attempt to scale it vertically. With no instruction from Adoran, they began to halt in mid stride--the violent inertia threatening to topple Adoran from his seat on their backs.
The iron gates of the city stood open, Adoran found once he had approached the entrance. Not a sole was present on the ground or in the watch towers on either side of the gate. The howling winds provided an eerie accompaniment to the silence that befell the keep. The beasts, still mimicking one another, paced carefully beyond the gates looking here and there as their calculated steps brought Adoran further beyond the wall. The whiteout, as intense on the inside of the wall as it had been on the outside, blocked what was normally an impressive view of the fortress towers and court halls.
Uneasiness beset Adoran. His blood was chilled not by the cold but instead by the complete absence of city life. His senses told him the fortress had been empty for decades, while his memory reminded him that he had visited just months before. New banners bearing the of Southland had been hung all along the wall and from tower windows. It was a strange counterpoint to the deathly cold that now inhabited the place.
"Lo, there!" he shouted into the emptiness-into the winds. "I am Adoran of the Gael N'Aem." The whistling of the winds against sharp corner stones was the only response.
"I have from Lake M'Lora, from the Temple of the Sun, to seek the council of Lord Denetress!"
Adoran waited and listened past the wind yet still he heard nothing. His beasts, however, sensed the presence of another being. Their heads, as if piloted by a puppeteer, turned sharply to the left. They gazed into the white before them and waited, their tails twitching in eager anticipation.
Adoran slipped from his saddle and uncinched the cats with effortless ease and speed. If someone, or something was indeed watching from the safety of the thick, white snowfall, then Adoran may need the help of his companions to catch them, or kill them if need be.
Adoran saw nothing and sensed nothing, but his friends watched the snowfall with deep intensity. Their eyes keenly set on something they knew existed in the white. Something that put their senses on alert.
Out of the misty white a figure began to appear. The figure seemed to wander cautiously about the streets within the walls, lurking about with its head hanging low and stopping occasionally to investigate a point of interest. The individual grew gradually closer and the cat's ears laid back as their heads lowered to align with their spine. It was a beautiful but nightmarish sight to behold. Their teeth were bared and every muscle twitched instinctively.
"Steady," Adoran said calmly, softly. He realized that they had been watching a young man once the figure began to take better shape within the white. When the boy looked up and saw that he was no longer alone, he began to run in the opposite direction before Adoran could even speak. The howling winds carried any vocal indication of fright from the boy into the .
"Bring him to me unharmed if possible," the beasts looked at Adoran in question but only for a brief moment before launching into a wild chase. Free from the saddle, they were able to move as they pleased. One took off in a straight line with incredulous speed while the other darted left, then right, and back again in a slightly wider, zig-zagged style hunt.
Adoran folded his arms and waited patiently. The twins had not been gone long before they returned with their prize. They appeared from the white carrying an unconscious young man. One had him by the collar of his cloak and the other was biting tenderly on a worn leather boot as they walked toward Adoran. The cats approached slowly and dropped the lad face first into the deepening snow.
"Unharmed," Adoran repeated with a raised brow. One of the beasts looked at the other as if to point out the culprit. Adoran smiled at their banter. "So quick to pounce, Ashera." The giant cat merely yawned at looked patiently at its master.
Adoran and with one hand he gently the lad over. Before Adoran had time to react, he had been flung onto his back and, unannounced to Adoran, spilled what looked to be useless trinkets from the folds of Adoran's robes into the deepening snow. The lad straddled Adoran, who felt the cool steel of a dagger tickling his throat.
Just as quickly as Adoran had found himself at the mercy of the young stranger, one of the beasts had instantly snagged the boy's throat. It waited for the opportunity to close its jaws. It's tail twitched violently. Adoran pulled away from the blade when the young man became too concerned for his own life to continue holding it steady. The events unfolded so quickly that Adoran began to wander if his skills were beginning to ware.
"This is Misha," Adoran said calmly. "He will go to great lengths to ensure my safety; and I his. The same can be said of Ashera, his sister." Adoran motioned with his eyes. The cat's grip loosened only long enough that the boy might turn his head to find a second man-eating beast idly by. It watched the spectacle unfold as if such things were everyday occurrences.
"Who are you?" Adoran asked as Misha pulled the lad from atop his master. Adoran stood.
"A resident of Southland," the boy responded in a high tenor.
"So I gather," Adoran said flatly, the wind freezing the moisture in his breath as he spoke. He brushed the packed snow from his robes. "How old are you, boy?"
"Seventeen," was the hesitated response.
"Where is everyone?" The lad looked at his surroundings, his eyes wandering about the vacant city aimlessly.
"Taken by the darkness," he managed. "Taken by the wolves of the great fissure."
Adoran looked at Ashera only briefly. It was all the instruction she needed. She leapt from her resting position and began to pace in watch. Her senses causing her to thrust her head from one position to another and her tail fluttered nervously. Adoran also noticed Misha's pale blue eyes darting about their surroundings as he held the lad fast upon the cold, snow-covered cobblestone.
"We must go inside where it is safe." Adoran gave the boy a questioning look.
"Wolves?" Adoran adjusted his robes, unaware that his elemental box and truthstone had tumbled from them during their unexpected quarrel. "Why are you lurking about in the farthest city streets if you declare such dark forces have entered Southland?"
"I was hungry. I needed food," came the desperate reply. "We'd exhausted the supplies of the court days ago. Winter had made the roads impassable. We were already starving when they came."
Anxiety and impatience lined the features of the boy's face for what he felt was an unreasonable, ridiculous interrogation. He felt he should have waited to explore the trade streets. He would have been safe, he would never have encountered this wizard or his man-eating companions. He would not be risking his life if he had just waited an hour longer, but hunger won the battle within him and he left the sanctuary of the court to risk his own death merely to quiet his angry stomach.
"If it is the wolves of the fissure that have taken your people, then no walls of stone or metal will keep you safe from their reach. Are you the only person who remains in Southland?" The boy nodded with what little room the enormous cat left him to move in such a manner.
"Explain."
Adoran listened intently as the lad's words ran to together in one run-on sentence after another. He was clearly anxious to be rid of the cold and his exposure. His thoughts were so shaken by fear that they were scarcely complete. Whether all of that fear could be attributed to a violent past or the boy's current predicament, Adoran could not tell. If his words were true and fissure wolves had begun trekking into Southland, their presence unnoticed by the civilized world, then Adoran knew he must seek shelter immediately and find a means of communicating with the people of Brandyshire or Sulon Lo.
"Stop this rambling. You've told me little more in several minutes than you had when you began." Adoran crouched next to the boy and nodded at Misha. The cats ears turned, perking in curiosity and question. Adoran looked into the eyes of his friend for several seconds. Misha released the boy's neck, albeit reluctantly.
The lad crashed onto his back while clutching his reddened, tender neck. He shifted and fidgeted but did not move far. Adoran extended his right hand and as if beset by an unseen force the boy was brought to his feet. The young man's breath was unsteady and his heart no doubt pounded violently.
"This will feel strange," Adoran told him. "Do not fight me. I will try my best to spare you pain."
The lad looked visibly shaken by the unfolding events, and his eyes grew wide with fear and anticipation. He shook his head and began to speak in protest, but his efforts won him no victory.
Adoran peered into the boy's mind, past conscious thoughts and rivers of untamed emotion, and then deep into the vaults of his memories. The lad released a torrent of horrid sounds and the twins danced in anguish as the boy's screams pounded within their heads. Adoran's eyes were closed; he was focused and relentless. The boy tried to hold back his tears, but the heavy lids of his eyes succeeded only in forcing them to land upon his pale cheeks.
Despite his hurt and pain, the boy could not resist standing. Adoran's unseen forces kept him pinned on his toes. He longed to curl into a ball, to make himself so small the world would never find him. He recalled the events of the culling in vivid detail-the appearance of the dark wolves and their abduction of the city citizens. He remembered the screams from the vendors in the streets, from the darkness of the passages and of the court, and from the bed chambers of his servants and parents.
He remembered the door his own bed chamber. He had run to it in a fit of terror and ensured the bolt which kept it locked was securely fastened. He remembered looking from the window to see fires erupt in the streets below the court. He watched as the city and court guard fought vicious, unnatural looking beasts in the court square below his chambers. He had hunted for his jeweled dagger, a gift from his grandfather on his fifteenth birthday, and clasped it so tightly in his hands he was sure his fingers would break the decorative metals of the handle and hilt.
He remembered the abrupt silence that followed the events of that terrible night. He remembered solitude and hate.
"Adoran, you must be quick! The forest..." mental channel was crushed when Misha let loose a reprimand. His chilling growl acted as a reminder to his sister not to interfere with their master's tasks. She trained her eyes back to the woods beyond the gate, her pacing an indication to Misha of her unsettledness.
The young man's chilling sounds were quelled when Adoran opened his eyes. He let the lad drift to the ground. Neither of them offered to move.
The lad sat wide-eyed and in shock. Adoran breathed heavily, wiped the moisture from his eyes, and swallowed hard. Misha trotted briskly to Adoran and sat in front of his friend. He waited patiently for Adoran's mind to detoxify itself from the exposure it had undergone.
"I am truly sorry," Adoran said to the boy after a long moment. His tone was soft and genuine. "You understand...I had to be certain."
The lad staggered, but eventually managed to stand. A look of utter disbelief and sheer torture highlighted his face. His tears began to freeze upon his tender, reddened cheeks.
"?" The cat fidgeted and turned to face Adoran. "I heard you. We must leave at once."
"The boy?" Misha inquired after establishing a mental channel.
"He is the last survivor of a cursed city. The undeserving heir to a bitterly cold and slow death. He comes with us. Misha, I ask that you--?"
"Of course, man-friend."
Adoran began pulling the supply bags from his saddle and tied them to his belt. He left the saddle itself to be buried by the ice and snow, like the city and surrounding jungle.
The boy, still petrified, stood shivering and dead calm in the falling snow.
"We must go, my young Lord Denetress," Adoran began. "The snowfall is growing thick and shelter outside this city will not be easily found."
Misha approached the boy and gave him a long, cautioning glance before lying beside him.
"I am truly sorry about your family's fate," Adoran continued in a soft, apologetic tone. "But, now is not the time for delay. You can not stay in this city. You must accompany me and in return I offer my protection."
"This is my home, wizard. I will not leave." His statement was plain and somewhat authoritative given his current state.
"Then you will surely die," Adoran said flatly. He sighed before continuing. "A forsaken city is no place for a young Lord. Come northward with me and leave this madness behind you. Your presence at the Council of Eight will help ensure this darkness does not befall others of the Great Kingdom. Only you can accurately explain the events of that dark night."
The young Lord sniffled and appeared to mentally weigh his options. He clearly was not content with abandoning his home-his heritage. The power of the wizard before him was not in question; that much was certain. He knew he would be safer with the Gael N'Aem than he would be if he remained alone in a dead city with no food. Though the wolves had not returned since that dreadful night, he had no reason to believe they would never reveal themselves again. Despite his apparent attachment to Southland, he nodded.
"How will we go? I have no horse." Denetress managed after a long moment, his tone a echo of it's earlier timbre. "The fissure wolves made off with every living creature in Southland." Denetress wiped madly at his eyes.
Adoran motioned with his hand to Misha, who was still lying patiently at the lad's feet. Still, the cat was nearly waist high. A look of uncertainty, of horror, washed over Denetrss' face. He was not keen on trying to mount the beast which had nearly torn the from his throat.
"It is quite safe," Adoran assured him. Misha cocked his head to spy the boy from the corner of his eye; he waited patiently.
The young Lord climbed upon the beast as a naive, inexperienced boy might his first horse. Misha let out a warning growl when the lad pinched his tender skin between his boot and the frozen cobblestone. After a fashion, he was mounted and the cat leapt to his feet in such a quick manner that he nearly toppled the boy.
"Behave, friend," Adoran told Misha. Misha looked from Adoran to his sister, who was still pacing at the fortress gates. Adoran bent to retrieve the lad's dagger from the snow. He handed it back to an expecting Denetress, who then sheathed it on his belt.
"When we run," Adoran said, "...you must lock your feet beneath Misha, then lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You will tumble off if you do not." Adoran started to walk away, but hesitated.
"Do not pull his fur or jolt him in the sides." Adoran instructed as he turned back briefly. "He responds only to his own instincts. He is quick and light footed and can outrun the fastest of creatures. He is not a clumsy, reckless horse in constant need of direction, and he will not stop if you fall from his back."
The young Lord swallowed hard and watched as Adoran walked over to mount . As Adoran climbed swiftly atop the stalker, Denetress wondered if his own mount would begin moving soon. He was accustomed to horses. Clearly, Misha was not a horse. He dared not test the giant cats patience so he remained perfectly still.
Slowly this time, the giant beast began to move smoothly and stealthily until he carried the young Lord to Adoran's side. The lad steadied himself atop the big cat, its fur like thousands of strands of Sh'Vak silk between his fingers. Denetress was still overcome by the cat's sheer size and smooth gate.
"Hold tight, my young ," Adoran said. "The journey will be long and treacherous."
As if once again commanded by a puppeteer, the cat's movements fell into sync. They trotted swiftly out the gates of Southland and onto the trade road. Behind them, the cursed city and fortress walls disappeared into the white. Ahead, the winter storm continued to rain its radiant, white bronze amid the dying jungle foliage.