Howling Thunder Ch39: White Canyon Colesseum
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The water crashes down in the central tower as our lift creeps its way up. Walt in the center, Aka on his right, me on the left, Mora just behind me, Mother in front of us all.
I hate weird silence, “So, are they really going to fight or what?”
Mother nods, “The Turul are one of the founding tribes of Yoden. Being declared traitors is a disgrace so severe that the only way to cover it up is to fall back to a bygone tradition. Some nomadic tribes still practice it, the right to challenge for position of Alpha… the loser dies or is exiled along with their sons. Kreiz is dead, Miklos has nothing to lose. The punishment for traitors is for the whole tribe to be judged so this is preferable and he will not further disgrace his family by putting up a false fight.”
A boom of thunder from outside shakes the tower, “So he’ll fight with his life, but he has no chance of winning?”
She takes out her fancy pipe and lights it up with a wisp of pink flame, “Your fool of a father will make it seem like Miklos has a chance.”
Walt speaks up, “Wouldn’t that just be an insult to Miklos and undermine the whole event?”
Akane also adds in, “Wouldn’t it be better to bring the bird down in an instant as a show of force so this doesn’t happen again?”
The Inari puffs out a plume of red smoke that trails below us as we rise, “You’re both right, but Skoll sees his friend, betrayed by his own, mislead son. Last night Klea brought Miklos a set of armor under the Fenrir’s instruction, if nothing else it will be a good show. One that people will remember instead of the rumor of Crazed Kreiz.”
Our ascent slows, she looks back at us, “Watch this fight, never look away. Even if you never develop your bloodline traits in the same way or to the extent as your father, one of your own pups might some day. Of Course, it would be a shame not to, his power is necessary to fully use the Throne of Yoden.”
I sigh as the lift stops and we get off, “I think this was mentioned before, just how many divine weapons are in this city?”
Mora from behind, “Yoden is considered the center of all Terra, the victors of The Great War. Given what we know, there are probably more divine items gathered here than anywhere else in Terra. I’ve read hundreds of stories telling of different artifacts however. It seems that they could even be considered scarce in this age compared to the past.”
Hmm, “Aka, if you could have anything at all crafted and blessed by a god, what would you want?”
Her tail wags slightly, she looks over with a grin, “A massive set of gauntlets that let me topple buildings with a single punch!”
“Can’t you do that on your own anyway? What about you Walt?”
He looks up at the ceiling while we walk, “A cloak that hides me from sight.”
I nudge him with an elbow, “That would make sneaking out to Sassa pretty easy eh?”
Mother laughs, I ask, “What about that pipe Mother?”
Twirling it once in her fingers, “This, aside from being a sacred relic, is a sort of augury aid. It allows me to better make predictions of events to come. Hardly all powerful however, time is like a river, any random event can set into motion a near infinite number of ripples.”
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So that's why she isn’t worried for Father at all. Well, that and Miklos’ determination to die.
Aka pokes my shoulder, “What about you Fuzzy, what would you have crafted?”
Now that is the question, isn’t it. Mora is also looking my way, probably curious about my answer as well.
Well if it could be anything, “I want a castle in the sky.”
Walt rolls his eyes but Mother smiles with another small laugh.
“When you find one pup, don’t forget your mother. I think that sounds like a fine way to spend my long years.”
Akane sticks out her tongue, “Boring, you’d never have anyone to fight.”
Walt nods, “Nothing to hunt.”
My turn to laugh, “No one to kiss my ass, attack me in the dark, pester me about politics, challenge me to duels, run in fear or whisper nasty wives tales to each other. I can sail among the clouds and starry skies without a care but for the direction the wind blows and how cold it gets. I could look down on the world and let all who see my castle drift past whilst they stare in wonder.”
Mother chimes in, “Don’t forget a troop of lovely guard women to fend off jealousy and boredom.”
Akane grabs my tail to stop it from wagging, she looks about to protest when another booming thunder cuts her off. Her startled grip tightens on my tail and I pat her head to calm her down.
When the thunder finishes echoing out we hear the sounds of cheers on the other side of the door just in front of us.
I hear the slight laugh of Mora behind me, looking back, “Something catch your mind?”
She avoids eye contact, “Was just thinking your grandfather might suggest a divine stick to fetch My Lord.”
The comment earns her an odd look from the rest of us, I guess social timing can’t be learnt in a book.
Mother coughs, “Dear, best not to compare the royal family of the Lycan Clan to common human pets in public alright. Now once outside, I’ll take up the Fenrir’s side, Akane follow me, Walther next to your grandmother and your cousins. Fuzzy dear, Ulfy should be just off to the side, she left to... escort Patra and the Nico girl this morning.”
Fetch, she almost said fetch, “The cream furred one’s name is Lupa, Mother.”
The Inari nods, “I knew it was something like that, I thought she’d run away honestly,”
A horn sounds beyond the door, followed by more cheers.
Mother straightens Akane’s outfit which matches her own, “Right, let's go watch your silly father kill a good man.”
Her open disdain isn’t lost on us as the door opens. I catch Akane tug her dress loose again as soon as mother looks away, she sticks her tongue out at my grin.
Lightning flashes as we step outside, cheers overpower the booming thunder.
This is the east side of the castle just below the throne room. Like a round pit carved by time and water, sleek white walls surround a deep canyon. White pillars, as thick as the great pines, hold up tens of balconies that ring around the hole. Above is a great dome of some translucent white stone, supported by the sheer cliff walls and columns it redirects the rain into a waterfall at the opening on the east side.
My marveling of such a place is interrupted by a female voice, sweet yet alluring, it echoes of the canyon walls for all to hear.
“Now entering is our Young Aphas led by their Holy Mother the Inari.”
Less enthusiastic cheers ring out, we step out to our places. I find Patra, Asta, Lupa and Ulfa standing just past Grandmother, Sassa, Igor and Olga. My tail might be wagging as I take up place in front of my three lovely mates, each in their tribe’s ceremonial dresses. Asta, her normal white, fur lined dress that loosely rests across her chest. Lupa in the same white dress from the night we met, a white top covering her chest, shoulders and neck yet leaving her midsection bare all the way to the curve of her hips.
This is the first I’ve seen Patra’s outfit, instead of the casual green silk wraps she has a white gown that tightly hugs her figure. Black silks drape from her shoulders along with a surprising amount gold jewelry on her arms and around her neck. Her black hair with blonde streaks is neatly straitened, thick black eyeliner highlights her green eyes. Even the short fur on her ears and tail seem to have a glossy sheen.
She pouts, “Stop staring, this nonsense took entirely too much time to put on!”
Lupa has a proud grin, “I think it was worth it, I admit that I’ve always adored your tribe’s traditional clothes, it was fun to work on.”
Asta does a little hop with a mischievous giggle, “And you stole the beta position, you better look the part or us two will look bad.”
Patra gives a hushed shout, “Like you even care you crazy brat, and Lupa, I appreciate it but I don’t see much difference from your family's clothing. Our tribal homelands were right next to each other to begin with.”
The Nico girl frowns and begins to rant about some random fashion trivia that goes in my ears and right back out.
Looking over the balcony I spot the source of the voice earlier, a gorgeous Lycan woman in a bright golden dress and pure gold fur. The dress itself could be considered to be made of a single golden scarf for all it covers! Wrapping around her neck it pours like molten gold over her large chest before joining to hang between her legs, held in place by another wrap which hugs her hips.
I point out and call back to Lupa, “Relative of your’s?”
Lupa frowns at being interrupted but nods, “My cousin Aurelia, she is actually a half sister to the Lord Fenrir. Her mother was my mother’s oldest sister, a concubine for the previous Fenrir. Don’t let her looks fool you, she’s actually older than your father. Personally I like her, she used to sneak me treats from the castle, Mother hates her to no end.”
A small smile sneaks to Lupa’s face. Actually that should mean this woman isn't related to my father or me at all.The fur color is interesting though. I would bet all the coin I could that Lupa’s ass of a father fits in that story somewhere.
Ulfa notices my unfocused gaze, “You might be interested in knowing that the woman is quite a powerful mage. Her greatest prowess in controlling gold in its liquid and solid forms is a variant on your tribe’s bloodline magic. That dress really is made of solid gold.”
She calls out to the crowd, “And now, people of the greatest city in the world, our great leader, Fenrir Skoll!”
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