Howling Thunder Ch17: King of Beasts
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We pass a layer of stone, the lift slows to a stop with a slight lurch. In front of us is a stone landing with a large set of double doors flanked by two guards.
As the door opens a male guard announces, “Hail the Young Lord Alphas, Walther, Nox, and Akane!”
The room ahead is blindingly bright at first but quickly dims, ah, it's the sunset! On the opposite side of a grand circular pool, a great eagle statue of solid gold blocks the direct light of the sun as it sets behind it.
Surrounding the pool are three levels of railings, what must be nearly a hundred nobles line them looking down at us. Intricately carved, white pillars hold up the domed ceiling of stained glass, there are no actual walls save for the one directly behind me.
The crystal clear water in the pool almost seems to glow in the light of the sunset. A few white stone platforms lead to a small stage facing the eagle. The base of the great bird sits at the second level, perched on an enormous set of weighing scales. From the balanced pans, endless water flows, casting shimmering light.
It's between the pans that I see three figures seated at three thrones.
We straighten our backs and step forth, I can’t help but smile at the thought of what would happen if my clumsy sister slips here and falls in the pool.
As if my grin was the cue I hear a murmur off to my side, “What nerve this black tailed monster has to waltz into this holy altar.”
I swear it must be some destiny that someone has to ruin my mood at every ceremony I attend. Leaning back my head I give the source a wide, fanged grin. A man in over the top green robes with a bushy black ringed brown tail nervously steps back from the railing. A raccoon tribesmen, I'll be sure to thank him for his kind words later.
As we step forward to the raised stage I first look to Mother who is scowling in the direction of the fellow who doesn’t know what is good for him.
Her’s is the left throne, a red wooden bench with a flame motif and a few gold cushions, the backrest is a Torii from Mother’s homeland. She herself is seated on this throne wearing a slightly less revealing kimono than she normally wears, her hair is done up with a crossed pair of golden pins with delicate flame patterns.
The right throne is white stone carved to look like a wave, the thin back looks to have been carved into a waterspout. Seated on it is a beautiful woman with long golden hair. She wears a wreath crown of silver feathers, and she is wrapped in a white silk gown that goes over one shoulder, it barely contains her massive breasts. Her gold winged arms are crossed in her lap, Queen Emese of the Turul Tribe.
Front center, this throne appears to be made entirely of metal. As if taking a page from Freki, the back is the visage of a sharp wolf head. A large battle axe leans against the left armrest.
The man in the center of it all, our father, The Lord Fenrir.
His height seems to tower over everyone else, trimmed white hair, short grey scruffy beard. A single green eye, the other hidden behind a black eye patch. His fur lined, grey leather coat reaches his feet. He shows off some massive canines as he smiles down at us.
His gaze starts at Walt, he looks him up and down, scratching his beard at Walt’s stony expression before nodding and moving on to the brutish Akane.
His eye narrows when he looks at her resting tail. I’m not sure what’s to judge, deep blood red with a slightly black tip. He looks to Mother’s as if to compare, hers is a lighter shade with a white tip, he simply shrugs.
My turn, the gaze of that green eye starts at my longer than average, black furred ears. Next he notices my hands have small claws, not characteristic of males in our tribe. Then my tail, clearly dark as night, every movement reveals traces of the black clouds hidden within it. His green eye looks back up into my own red ones, his gaze seems to pierce my very being. His ear twitches, mine mirrors his out of reflex.
He bursts into laughter, “So! My own children don’t feel the need to bow, good, that stuff is a pain in the ass! Furthermore in looks or habits, these pups have so much of me in them it’s hilarious.”
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I can see mother roll her eyes. I can’t help but crack a grin.
The golden woman speaks to father, “I’m happy to see you pleased darling, I was becoming a bit worried with all the nasty rumors floating around the castle.”
He pounds his fist on his armrest and cheerily replies, “I’ve no reason to be otherwise, I can see they all take after me and especially the girl doesn't have the presence of some useless dainty princess.”
“If the eldest wishes to become a hunter of which legends are born from, I have many generals to train him. If my daughter would rather command legions than arrange flowers, how could I not be proud. If my son can’t help being a rogue then surely I can find ways to cure his boredom.”
I can see mother smiling, half relieved, half satisfied, “It seems your line is fated to have their names forged into this age in blood, fire, and stone.”
The gold woman nods excitedly, “As they should, my husband shall be revered as the father of greatness.”
Finally I understand why Mother and Aunty Rota never seemed concerned if father would like us, this fellow seems incredibly carefree … Mother who was keeping an eye on me bursts into laughter.
The gold woman looks at mother cheerfully, “I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself Madam Inari and using that throne, I was beginning to worry it was a waste.”
Mother gives the woman a warm smile, “Yes it’s quite nice Queen Emese, thank you. Now, dear husband,” she pauses looking at odds with herself over saying those words, “shall we dismiss for dinner?”
I spot Father’s tail wag when she called him husband, “Absolutely, I’m starving.”
He stands up, great coat reaching the floor, his heavy armor boots echoing on the stone. He picks up the axe that was leaning on his seat, I get a quick look at it. A black metal haft the length of his massive arm, the head in the shape of two mirrored, black, crescent moons. Light from the fading sun shimmers off the edges before seeming to flow into the axe itself.
He throws it on his shoulder and addresses the room, “Welcome my pups to Yoden, now everyone off to eat!”
With a cheer people begin to file along the ring and out bridges to nearby towers on the sides. Mother and the winged queen walk somewhere behind the throne platform. Father however leaps out clear to the center where we stand.
Standing in front of him I now realize that he's a few heads taller than us. He ruffles Akane’s hair before grabbing Walt’s and my shoulder and leading us towards the door behind us. Each step he takes causes a noticeable ripple to spread in the pool. It’s odd, I can’t imagine his weight to be the cause as much as his very aura would cause even the wildest beast to make way.
As he walks us into the small room with the lift I see a large black wolf with silky fur step from the shadows.
Father glances from it to me before ordering the on edge guards to leave the room. With the room now empty of others, Ulfa shifts into her human form and walks over.
The Fenrir smiles, “Hello there pretty lady, I’d wager you're an acquaintance of my boy here? Of Course it’s always a pleasure to meet a woman with zero respect for my titles.”
I really can’t tell if he is serious.
Ulfa turns to him, “A pleasure to meet you lord Fenrir, I am the servant and consort of the Goddess Freki and currently nanny to this pup.”
He looks Ulfa up and down, then down again stopping at her legs, “Can’t say I often feel jealous of a god…”
The corner of his eye looks back at me as he chuckles, “Being jealous of my own pup is certainly a strange notion. How is the moody vixen, lil Miss Nemy never has anything very nice to say about her…or anyone for that matter.”
Ulfa has a slightly pained expression, I think she already finds father tiring, “She’s cheered up quite a bit these last couple years with the arrival of her fuzzy pup here.”
He starts walking towards the lift, “Good, the past is best left in the past. Now, I'm hungry and I’m sure there is a line of venomous snakes waiting to kiss your asses to the jolly tune of superstitious whispers.”
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