UNDER THE NORTHERN LIGHT
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The Journey North
Winter had come as the year drew to a close. Snow fell and would continue to do so for weeks. The season would prove to be most inhospitable, especially when traveling on foot. It bit hardest in the north, which meant traveling through Dharen’Rhylo wasn’t the most sound of options either.
Perhaps the best way to travel was along the Great Central River. When Connor journeyed along its shore he noticed a number of trade vessels. He decided it would be easier to take a ship which sailed along the outer boundary of Dharen’Rhylo. The coin they had in hand should be enough to pay for the convenience.
Silvanus quietly followed for the time being, not too pleased with his situation. There was little hiding it; he missed Dharen’Rhylo. He gave the impression that despite the horrific infliction of that iron mask, he would still willingly submit himself to Dharen’Rhylo’s rule: as though he was incapable of proper function without someone giving orders.
The two brothers arrived in Bastion, from there Connor paid for transport across the lake towards Garrison; the heart of Dharen’Rhylo’s commerce. Connor did all of the talking. His charisma made it easy to work out the details of which ship to take and when. He had a knack for finding just the right people to talk to.
As it turned out merchants didn’t really care much about laws if they could stand to profit more. No one cared about Silvanus. To the merchants, the two brothers were just well priced cargo. Connor arranged a ship to take them all the way to Northern Hold, which meant they’d have to sale all the way around Dharen’Rhylo’s eastern boundary. That alone would take weeks.
In fact they didn’t arrive in Northern Hold until early 1036AB. Once there, Connor realized that boarding a ship to Dharenmor was more difficult than he anticipated. The colony was still very young. The only people to venture were of a specialized labor force, and of course their families. All of which were exclusively contracted by branches of the Dharen’Rhylo’s government.
Civilian traffic wasn’t allowed.
In order to even make it on the roster of an outbound vessel, Connor had to pull some strings. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a lot of leverage, but his Brass Icon of the Combat Sage helped a great deal. I’Loa reside in many places. Fortunately for Connor, there was one managing shipments to the colony.
With his help Connor and Silvanus were allowed permission to embark. Unlike the other merchant vessels they had taken before, the ship for Dharenmor was entirely different. It was packed to the brim with supplies and other necessities. The two brothers were not allowed to stay in the passenger quarters either; they had to reside in the cargo hold — not at all the most pleasant of experiences.
Nevertheless they arrived intact. Once off the ship they laid eyes upon Dharenmor for the very first time. The colony was bustling. The entire coast had been stripped bare of all trees and in their place were a number of buildings. The streets were muddy from all the rain, snow, and ice that drifted down from the Northwest.
Connor was disgusted. The colony had a number of churches already erected and their bells rang out as if to taunt him. That was one thing he could do without; bells. He had grown tired of them from Gabriel’s Hold. He urged that he and Silvanus should distance themselves from the colony as soon as possible. If any members of the Wolf Tribes remained, they’d be nowhere near the obnoxious sound of bells.
Silvanus agreed. But he took note of all of the blacksmiths they had. The abundance of metal tools, traps, and weapons of all kinds made him long for the blades he had lost. The iron mask he wore ached each time he heard the beating of a blacksmith’s hammer. Both brothers made haste. They spoke to no one, asked no questions, nothing — they merely set out to seek the solitude for the wilds.
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In the Dust
As night fell, both brothers took notice of the shimmers of green and blue that flowed through the sky. The lights looked as though they collided with the Northern Peaks, the great mountains that resided just south of the colony. It was all just as the elder’s described. But the wilderness was quiet. Eerily quiet.
As skilled hunters they moved in silence. But they heard neither the stirring of animals, nor the chirping of insects — the forest was entirely dead, like walking through a graveyard. The trees stood as tombstones; marking forgotten graves; of a forgotten war; in a forgotten land.
Decades before these very woods were torn asunder by war. Tribe fell upon tribe. Both brothers heard the stories when they were young, but neither of them ever expected they’d venture so far. They could feel the energies in the dark. Both brothers were sensitive to it — as though the very shadows were alive and watching them in the pitch of the night.
They journeyed south and settled at the foot of the great mountain. The winter continued to rage on, which forced them to quickly make shelter. They took refuge in a cave and made it their den for the winter months. Neither spoke. Despite so much time spent together, few words were ever exchanged. Connor wanted to share so much, but Silvanus was never interested in talking.
As the seasons changed they explored more of their surroundings. That is when they came across the remains of old Wolf Tribe encampments. They found the structures to be very familiar to what their elders had made. It was a wonder that they still stood, and it was even more surprising that the colonists didn’t pillage and raze everything in sight.
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It was as though they were the very first people to have set foot there in decades. Human remains were strewn about. Bleached white bones lay half buried in the dirt. It was always the same. Everywhere they went showed evidence of massacre. Silvanus didn’t seem to care. He mainly searched the area for resources he could use.
But Connor was struck much more deeply. He felt the weight of the horror beneath his feet. When he chose to pick and study an artifact, it was with the expressed interest to perhaps recapture and preserve the ways of his people. Silvanus took only what he felt he needed; such as tools, weapons, and other supplies that weren’t too dilapidated with age.
What Connor saw only made him hate Dharen’Rhylo even more. He knew well what happened in the north. The exact details may have been sketchy, but he still knew that ultimately it was Dharen’Rhylo who was responsible for the destruction of the Wolf Tribes. This sparked conversation between the brothers, or at least Connor trying to see if his brother shared in his view.
But Silvanus did not. He simply looked upon the situation as though the people were foolish; they didn’t kill the intruders when they had the chance. Therefore they deserved their fate and it wasn’t Dharen’Rhylo’s fault. The superior power won. If the Wolf Tribes were superior, then they’d still be alive. It really was just that simple to him.
He told Connor not to be so sentimental over the remains of dead fools. But Connor ignored him and continued to respect the remains of the fallen. It was a shame that no one else came to treat the dead with respect. So Connor made it his task.
As the months passed, a clear rift began to form between the two brothers. They annoyed one another. Silvanus was disappointed that his brother wasn’t strong like he was. He wanted someone just like him that he could depend on.
But Connor felt the same way, but in a different light. He wished Silvanus wasn’t so cold and heartless. He longed for someone intelligent to talk to. But Silvanus wasn’t the bookish type — he felt that was a sign of weakness.
In time the brothers encountered colonist exploration parties. Connor wished to steer clear, but Silvanus made it a point to go out of his way to engage them. He was drawn in by their tools. Not necessarily the bolters, but the traps and other things they were using to hunt. Silvanus wanted to open up negotiation with them, but Connor didn’t condone it.
It was clear the two brothers couldn’t live together. Their differences further drove a wedge between them. In time Silvanus urged Connor to find his own den. Connor was more than happy to oblige. And so Connor explored the foot of the mountain and found another cave. There he took shelter and began to settle into a routine more accustomed to the way he wanted to live.
He watched as Silvanus set out on his own. It was clear his brother depended a lot upon the use of traps and other tools. He even openly bartered with the colonists. Connor was not certain what goods he traded for the tools, but he knew Silvanus would never tell him even if he asked. He never learned that Silvanus was trading information, spoils from his hunts, and other artifacts he had happened upon while exploring.
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Howls in the Night
The two brothers existed like this throughout the remainder of 1036AB and into 1037AB. Once again winter was upon them. Connor had made a point to ritualistically take the remains of the dead he found in the camps.
He honored them all with their own individual burials. And though did not know them — it mattered not. The task helped; as though he was burying his own sadness with each and every one of them. He used what he had learned from his elders, but even despite that, he knew he wasn’t doing it right. The proper rituals for burial were lost to time. Regardless, he did what he could.
Meanwhile, Silvanus had continued to grow positive relations with the local colonists.
He had become a well-known trapper and guide. The colonist paid him handsomely for his skills to guide them through the wild. The two brothers lived very different lives. Silvanus openly wanted more and more luxury and comfort, something Connor used to enjoy a great deal of. But Connor wanted to distance himself from that.
When Silvanus was tortured and trained by the Scarlet Knights, he knew very few luxuries. His life was brutal and full of hardship. Therefore he wanted comfort now more than ever. Connor was more familiar with cushy lifestyles. He lived with the missionaries for a time and then within a manor with Theodore. He found that he was tired of a comfort and welcomed the simplicity of the wild.
But one winter’s night everything changed. The entire time they had spent in the north they had both been looking for evidence of their people. But everywhere they looked they found only death. Yet they were both stirred by the sounds of howls that echoed throughout the night. The moon was full and their song haunted the air.
Both brothers emerged from their dens with like-minded intent. They decided to run into the night to hunt down the source. Connor’s heart pounded. Could this have been it? Was their search finally over? His mind turned, twisted between excitement and concern as he threw himself into the night.
They heard the howls grow louder still. They could make out multiple voices singing as they grew closer. Yet when they arrived they were met with something most unexpected. In the distance they could barely make them out — wolves; real wolves. Not members of any tribe, but the very animals they worshiped, long since thought to be extinct.
They had never seen wolves. They had only heard stories. But it became quite clear that the descriptions of their elders paled comparison to the majesty of the real thing. The wolves were absolutely huge, unnaturally large creatures. They had evolved to be far bigger than their contemporary counterparts. Their body mass was impressive, on par with a decently sized bear. Big enough to ride if someone were to try.
From then on, the two brothers only spotted two wolves that night. They tracked them carefully, each brother saying nothing. It was like laying eyes upon god. They did not know what to say. What words could describe how they felt? Connor felt as though his life was starting to become complete, as Silvanus felt as though his might be coming to an end.
Regardless, the two brothers discovered than the wolves found shelter along the mountainside. They stayed up in a much higher elevation where the terrain was sharp and deadly. There was no doubt the wolves were trying to hide from the humans — likely because the colonists were notorious for hunting down their species.
Once the night came to an end, both brothers agreed that they should relocate closer. Each had their own agenda in mind. Connor wanted to learn from them. Maybe discover the secrets of his people through them. To him, they were as gods. But Silvanus wanted to understand and perhaps even learn to harness their power.