Avira

Avira groaned and opened her eyes, her vision hazy. Simply laying there hurt, her entire body sore. Her hand went to her midsection to feel for the stab wound. Nothing was there. She didn't even have clothes on. As her vision cleared, she took the chance to examine her environment. The single window bleeding light into the room revealed sparsely decorated but sturdy wooden walls. She must have washed up on a riverbank past the border.

She was in Axiam. From her memory of the layout of the land, she was probably carried to Woodward, the closest village to the river. Axiam was the only country that lay next to the Wilds without a natural border, a small and unremarkable place aside from their cooperation with the various tribes of the Wilds and their meager trading with a few other nations. The alliance with the Wilds was what ensured their country's sovereignty: were they attacked, the tribes were ready to unite and run to their defense. At least that was the working theory. It mostly served to lure hybrids into the creature comforts of 'civilization', disconnecting them from their culture.

She rubbed her head and sat up with a grunt of pain. Her torso gave only a sting in response; it was the rest of her body that was burning, as if it was working in overtime while she was asleep.

The door opened and a human male leaned in. Tired looking, messy blue hair and glasses. His dark purple clothes hung loosely off his thin frame. He had the dress of a scholar or noble. Perhaps both.

Seeing Avira up, an almost genuine smile formed on his face and he stepped into the room. “Greetings, madam,” he bowed. “My name’s Mareth Morsum, traveling scholar.”

Avira rolled her eyes and scoffed, immediately put off by this fop, though it did nothing to wipe the smile off of his face. “Yeah alright, but why am I here?”

“Ah!” he was all too happy to explain. “Well you see, a villager saw you wash up on the riverbank covered in blood. They called on me, as they don’t have any doctors in this town and I look the part. I took care of your wounds for you, though I hope you’ll forgive me for undressing you. Your clothes have been washed and mended, I can fetch them for you if you'd like.”

“Do that,” Avira said. Not like she could do much else. Axiam frowned on public nudity.

“Very well. Before I go though, I suggest that you get some more rest. Your body must be sore.”

“I’ll be fine,” she muttered, attempting to rise from bed only to find a complete lack of strength in her legs. She fell back to the bed and cursed. “Just get me my clothes.”

The scholar bowed again and closed the door behind him. Avira sighed. She had to get back to the Wilds soon. Warn them of what was coming. First though, she wouldn’t mind closing her eyes for just a moment.

When she opened them again it was dark out. “Fuck,” she cursed and sat up, considerably less sore aside from aching joints. Avira spied her clothes draped over a chair and stood, testing her legs to make sure she wouldn't just fall over. She grabbed her outfit and tossed it on. It was a mix of fur, hide, and leather. The coarse fur rubbed against her skin, hanging heavy on her frame. Her pants were much the same, except baggier. Her shoes were made of soft, untreated leather and supremely comfortable and durable.

Avira left the room, a small hallway meeting her. The hall was made of wooden planks, a few tapestries hanging up with scenes from different tribes. Noise of merriment came from one direction. She noticed various colored stains scattered about, likely from drunkards making their way to their rooms. The noise must be coming from a bar.

Her assumption proved correct. Avira emerged from the hallway to see a small tavern area. There were drunks, a few hybrids scattered around, and by himself was the scholar from earlier. The aroma of cooking food hit her nose, and only now did Avira feel the lack of anything in her stomach. Unfortunately she had no money or anything to trade for food. She considered this, then resolved to use the scholar's good nature against him.

She strolled over to his table and sat herself down across from him, draping her arm over the back of the chair. Before she could open her mouth to lodge a complaint about how hungry she was, he greeted her with the normal grin he seemed to always wear.

“Ah, you’re awake. I was just about to check on you after I finished dinner. Speaking of,” he waved down a waitress, “could I get some food over here for the young lady? Meat, I’m guessing.”

Avira nodded at the waitress, then looked to the scholar. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem. I know tribals don’t usually keep money, and I doubt you have much to barter considering your situation. I have to ask though, how’d you end up floating down a river with a hole in your torso?”

“Long story,” Avira groaned, leaning on her hand.

“Or are you just not one for talking?” Mareth raised an eyebrow.

She stared at him in silence.

“Got you. That’s fine, I can relate.”

She doubted that. This man was a chatterbox.

“If I may ask, where are you headed?”

“Back to the Wilds. Have something to do.”

“That’s a shame. I’m off to Drima soon, was hoping for a travel companion. No doubt you know about how dangerous the desert is alone.”

“What’s in Drima for a scholar?”

“Quite a lot, but I’m just passing through. I’m headed past it.”

She nodded. “Good luck then. And thanks for fixing me up and everything.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help people.”

Something set her off about this guy. He was a little too cheerful, a little too eager to help. Of course she had wanted to abuse that aspect of him just a moment ago, but she couldn’t place this weird feeling she was getting. Like something was breathing down her neck. And that smell that clung to him. Lavender, the smell of soap, but under that…

Her thoughts were pulled back to her empty stomach as the waitress set down some pork. Avira grinned and picked it up with her bare hands, ripping into it without a care in the world.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It was gone in moments. Avira patted her stomach and gave a pleased sigh. “That was great. Don’t have pig often. Anyways, I should go.”

The scholar nodded. “Very well. I hope we meet again.”

“Sure. Uh, Mareth, right?”

“That’s my name. If you finish your business quickly and have nothing else to do, I’ll be off to Drima in the next day or so.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Avira stood and made for the door, waving over her shoulder. “See you another time, Mareth.”

“Have a safe journey, Avira,” Mareth called after her before she slipped out of the inn and into the night.

Crossing back over the river over a cobblestone bridge, Avira stood at the edge of the border to the Wilds. There was no fence, wall, or even signpost to mark the border. There was, however, a massive treeline that stretched into the horizon on each side. Also visible from here were the Harpy Mountains, a massive mountain range that guarded the Wilds from the Drima desert.

The aching of her joints faded as she hurried through the woods, slipping effortlessly past trees and bushes, barely making a sound as she did. A grin formed on her face as the moonlight streamed down through the canopy. The scouts she attacked were likely already gone and headed back where they came from, so a hunt on them would prove fruitless. That was fine, as Avira had other plans. Her destination wasn't far, at least with the Spirit's help.

Avira hopped over fallen trees, stepping over animal tracks, and ran past old clearings with burned out fire pits from her past. She took in the cool forest air as it breezed past her face, the smell of the damp and musky forest hitting her nose, the insects calling out in all directions. She lived for this.

Avira slowed down as a familiar scent hit her nose. A titan wolves marking. The tree in question had a large crude carving of a wolf head. Art she'd carved years ago, when she first became a sentry for the Wilds. She placed her hand over the crude carving, recalling old memories.

After a moment she looked up the tree and jumped, grabbing a thick and sturdy branch and hoisting herself up. It only took a few bounds upwards before she found another marking, swinging her leg over the higher branch and taking a seat. Reaching into a hollowed out hole, she found an old wooden box with an old carved whistle and set of earplugs inside. Avira put them in, taking a deep breath and blowing into the whistle as hard as she could.

A sound too high-pitched for humans to hear echoed through the forest, loud enough to travel miles. Despite the earplugs, the shrill screech still made her skin crawl. After emptying her lungs, she placed the earplugs and whistle back into the box and stashed it. The wolf girl leaned her back against the trunk and waited, closing her eyes and letting the cacophony of insect and animal calls wash over her.

While relaxing under the stars, a familiar scent hit her nose at the same time as she heard rustling in the brush. He was here.

Avira's eyes shot open and she scrambled down the tree. She landed on her feet, swiveling towards the source of the sounds and smell. A massive grey wolf stood there looking at her, a full two heads taller than her. He was a titan wolf. One she knew very well. A wicked growl forced its way out of Avira's throat as she lunged.

Her clawed gloves were on in a flash, Avira slashing at the giant beast and forcing it to dodge. The wolf agilely sidestepped and circled her. Avira barely dodged the wolves pounce, kicking it hard in the leg but only getting a sore foot as she stumbled back. The wolf saw this and lunged again, using its massive paw to force her down.

“Every time...” Avira muttered, staring into the eyes of the wolf as it held her down with little effort. She smirked at it. “Hey dad.”

“Hey, pup,” he spoke.

Fang Gray-Wolf, her father. He raised her with the rest of the tribe, though her father being a titan wolf was unique among her tribe mates.

“That was a good kick.” Fang lifted his paw off of her and sat down.

“Thanks...” Avira muttered, rubbing her leg before standing. “You've been getting more agile. I always forget how tough you can be considering you sleep all the time.”

Fang's tail wagged, which Avira's mirrored. “With how big I am, just moving around eats up a lot of energy. We're lucky there aren't any more of me, because with our reduced lands the titan wolves would have eaten through all of The Wilds by now.”

“Especially considering you're a small one,” Avira chuckled.

“You're one to talk.” Fang licked Avira's face. “Not many in the tribe shorter than you.”

Avira rolled her eyes and wiped her face off. “Right… Well, anyways, I called you for a reason. It’s important.”

“I guessed as much. What do you need? Break your knife?”

She shook her head. “Had an encounter with some scouts today.”

“Scouts? What, from Axiam?”

“Doubt it. No real military for that. Don't think it was from Drima either. Somewhere else. They were hiding their colors. One had a firearm.”

“Ah. And why were they here?”

“Testing our border defenses, likely. They said something about negotiating with Drima about passage through the sea. They’re planning to attack us, so I think they’re aiming for the south coast.”

“Hm,” Fang muttered. He was looking to the side, thinking over this information. “Not good. Mostly herbivore tribes down there, they aren’t ready to fight an army. Not sure any tribe is.”

“We'll consolidate the tribes, get a force together then. Wasn’t that the plan if Axiam got invaded?”

“Yes, but we’ve only really done it once, and barely at that. Furthermore, we aren’t equipped to fight a full on invasion.” Fang paced around.

Avira's ears flattened on her head. “So it’s down to guerrilla tactics while they take us over?”

“Yes to the first, no to the second. I've got a plan. I need you to go get assistance.”

“From?”

“Vakia.”

“The wind kingdom? What do we need from those warlords?”

“The King and I are acquaintances. I think he’s the only one who might be willing to help us. Especially if we’re under attack by who I think we are.”

“Who?”

“Argokath.”

“The new nation to the east?” Avira crossed her arms.

He flicked his ears, pacing. “Not that new, actually. But only now has it grown into a problem. Last I heard it took over a quarter of the continent and then agreed to a cease-fire with Vakia after a costly war.”

“A lot of stuff happens in the world while I’m off in the woods, huh?”

“Oh, it was happening before you became a sentry, just you never cared enough to hear about politics.”

“Got me there.” She smirked. “So I'm to be the messenger to Vakia?”

“Right. You need to get through Drima for that, as they don't let Axiam ships through their seas. Try to find a partner, you know how the lamias are.”

Avira listened intently, the weight of the situation weighing on her. “Yeah. Will do. See you, dad.” She wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug, gripping his soft fur as her tail wagged once more.

He leaned into her, tail wagging at the same speed. “Good luck, pup. Stay safe.”