THE DREAD WOLVES
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A BROTHER SAVED
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The Journey Southward
The year was 1035AB, and the wound Connor suffered a year before was still healing. Yet despite his injury, he struck out from Gabriel’s Hold. He carried with him his sword, what hard-pressed gold pieces remained, and the brass icon of the Combat Sage nestled in his breast pocket.
The mission that lay before him was not a simple one: find his brother and rebuild the Tribe. This was the mission tasked by his mother so many years ago. He had little to go by, a general location and a bearing to follow. But that was more than enough — far more than what he had years ago.
He journeyed southwest along the banks of the Great Central River, each step furthering him from the churches of Gabriel’s Hold. And though no distance was far enough from that atrocious place — he still longed for the manor that was his home.
Theodore was good to him. And he had pointed him in the right direction. Connor could only hope that his brother had not ventured too far. It would be a tragedy to lose him a second time.
Meanwhile, in the thick forests of Durvam, just northwest of Bastion, Silvanus resided beneath a mighty old oak. Having burrowed out the earth and root, he created for himself a den just big enough for a single occupant.
As the seasons began to change, it had only just dawned upon him that months had passed. Survival in the wilderness had kept him busy. Eventually, time had little meaning — just like him.
A fire crackled amidst the debris. His eyes were transfixed upon it. They gazed through the thick iron mask forever affixed to his face. His feet dirty and his body sparsely clothed. He had lost everything. His fame, his fortune, and his name — all stripped away. But he assured himself that he cared for none of them.
He thought only of his claws. They were perfect. He could still feel their weight around his forearms. He missed their cold embrace. He missed the sensation of the naked blades against his skin. At this point he was confident he could never see them again. His life would never truly be the same without them.
Nights grew colder. He could smell it in the air: winter was coming. Soon the ground would be covered in a crisp layer of snow. He wondered if he should even bother. It would be so easy to just curl up and go to sleep, only to never wake again. Maybe then, he could know what it was to be happy.
Had he ever been happy? He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. In his life he had experienced so much: the taste of the salty sea air, the warmth of a woman’s touch, and the smell of burnt flesh. But the latter would always linger. Each time he inhaled he was reminded of it.
No woman would dare touch him now.
He had survived. But that was all he did: survived. But what was the point? He’d never again attain greatness. Wasn’t he just better off wasting away? The thought crossed his mind more than once. Perhaps it would be better if he just did himself in.
What Silvanus did not know was that his brother was closing in upon his location. Connor continued his long journey ever southward. Rumors of a Banished Wolf whispered every now and then gave him direction and hope, but nothing was concrete.
For the first time in his life had approached the border of Dharen’Rhylo. He was questioned of course. At this point the friction between it and the country of Ahri had grown to an all-time high. The border guards were strict. It was the border where Durvam and Ericardon met.
Those two countries were essentially a neutral zone; an involuntary buffer between the two military power houses that were Ahri and Dharen’Rhylo. There had been talks of a nonaggression pact, but Connor didn’t much care. It was all just an inconvenience as he presented his papers to prove his identity.
As a member of the House of Ranfield he was given special privilege. His permit allowed him to travel between countries. The only restriction was that he must travel alone, which was fine by him — he had no intention of returning anytime soon anyways.
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Brothers Reunited
Once beyond the border it became clear that lines drawn on a map were meaningless. The forests of Durvam were identical to Dharen’Rhylo. Were it not for the border guards he would have never known he had crossed into another country.
The true test of finding his brother began that day. He had to use every skill at his disposal. If Silvanus were present, he would know how to cover to his tracks. He would not wish to be found. Connor had to look for the little things; subtleties that would otherwise go unnoticed by the inexperienced.
There were few trails. Much of what Connor pursued led him nowhere. He spent days plotting out the forest. He looked for a sign, any sign at all that would point him in the right direction. Ultimately it was the growing apathy of Silvanus that allowed Connor to finally come upon him.
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Silvanus began to care less and less. He stopped trying to hide. He was certain no one could come looking for him anyway. In the night he let his fire burn brighter than ever. The orange flicker was a beacon that glowed beneath the canopy. Connor was compelled to investigate.
He made no noise. He crept up upon the den that Silvanus had made for himself. But as he looked inside he saw nothing. All he found was a fire that burned hot and wild, which was evidence enough that somebody was close. But before he could investigate further, Connor found himself thrown to the ground.
A makeshift knife was suddenly shoved against his throat. The big muscled brute of a man loomed over him. Hot breath bellowed out from beneath a metal mask in plumes. Connor made no sudden movements. He merely looked into the dark orbits of the iron mask as he tried to find his brother’s eyes.
“Do you intend to kill me brother?” Connor finally asked.
They had not seen each other or spoken to one another in roughly fourteen years. Gone were the boys that once were. They had both grown into men. Silvanus snarled. Connor felt the blade dig deeper, but he still did not fight back.
“You are the Al’Mora now.” Connor added. His words were clear and calm.
In that moment that knife fell away. Silvanus remained silent, as though unsure of what to say. In truth no words could come to mind.
He is the Al’Mora?
Doubt filled Silvanus’ mind. Surely that could not be his brother. His brother would kill to lead. Perhaps he should just cut the throat of the imposter — the thought crossed his mind more than once.
“If I’m the Al’Mora, then where is the rest of my pack?” Silvanus hissed as he sunk his fingers into Connor’s neck.
“We are all that remain,” Connor pushed the words through clenched teeth.
Silvanus made it very hard to breath. He began to shove his knee into Connor’s diaphragm.
“What do you mean?” questioned Silvanus with words that grew with intensity.
Connor could sense the broiling anger inside his brother. There was great power there. In truth Connor had not felt this threatened since the arena. But he did his best to remain calm. Silvanus was not aware of it, but Connor had his hand on a concealed dagger.
He could easily jab it into the man’s side to puncture a few organs. But this was his brother after all, and he could hear the turmoil in his voice.
“After you killed that man. After you ran away. Nothing was ever the same,” said Connor carefully. “We were rounded up. Father and many others were shot. They all grew sick. Now they linger in Evergreen Fields.”
Silvanus finally bore back. His weight lifted, finally giving Connor a reprieve. Only a fellow of the Wolf Tribe would know of such things. This was no imposter, no assassin. Even though he retreated, Silvanus made no effort to help Connor to his feet. He merely stood and expected his brother to pick himself up off the forest floor.
“Mother too?” Silvanus bemoaned.
Connor simply nodded as he pulled himself off the ground. This was not the reunion he had envisioned, but then again he had no idea of what to expect. Silvanus was an entirely different beast. But now that the beast was quiet, Connor took the time to fill in Silvanus on all that he had missed.
He covered everything: the shooting, the missionaries, the escape, and the pursuit.
“I have been looking for you. I promised mother I would find you. And together we would rebuild what was lost.” Conner explained.
Silvanus just laughed, openly mocking his brother. “And how do you expect we do that?”
“We have means.” Connor affirmed.
That was when Connor revealed the hoard that their mother had saved. Silvanus was openly dumbstruck. It was painfully clear that he had never seen that much money in his life. He had no idea that his parents were so well off. He practically fell to his knees. Connor noticed how Silvanus’ shins momentarily quivered. But to Connor’s surprise, the other man said nothing.
“Do not despair brother. Together we can do anything. We can take mates. Rebuild anywhere. There is no limit to what we can accomplish,” continued Connor.
“There’s no point,” said Silvanus with another laugh. “What do you expect us to do? Not even that can buy us a country of our own. We have no people. We have no land. We have nothing. Nothing!”
Connor knew Silvanus was right. But he wasn’t here to indulge self-pity.
He quietly extended his hand to his brother and said in a cold but determined tone, “We have each other.”
Silvanus snorted. Connor could feel his eyes study him. He could tell that Silvanus was measuring him up; trying to compare Connor to himself. It was clear that he was uncertain if Connor was his equal or not. The hesitation in Silvanus’ actions made that clear.
“We could go home.” Connor suggested.
But Silvanus just glared at him. He could see his brother’s jaw flexing and his knuckles whitening. Connor was quick to elaborate.
“I’ve been doing research on the Northern Tribelands. I have connections. We could charter a boat. There is no reason for us to stay here. Let us try to see if there is anything left for us to return to.”
Connor took a step forward and once again extended his hand. But Silvanus did not move. He was just a silent mass of might and muscle. Connor could not see his brother’s eyes beyond the mask, but he could feel them searching. He could feel the confusion radiating off his brother.
Moments passed. All Connor could hear was the singing of insects, the cracking of wood under flame, and his own heart thumping in his ears. He waited patiently for Silvanus do anything, to say anything. It felt like an hour passed before Silvanus finally moved. He lurched forward and firmly took Connor’s hand into his own.
“Fine. We can return. But I don’t expect to find anything there.”