Dion had revealed himself to his master just before the first true snowfall came. He had been around much longer than that. He hid in the stocks of the plane, slinked in the shadows of the long night, and leaned on the perimeter.
There was something in the air. It alarmed the canine inside of his blood. Spiked the unease of a guard. When he was sure whatever danger wasn’t around. He tracked it, found it, and then doubled back to the farmstead. He knew the winter would be safe, and for the duration of that time, he pieced together enough preparation that he afforded something akin to assurance. It felt like scraps, but it’s what he had.
Fall ended and winter evaded the space. The farmstead had slowed but the family hadn’t. To the adults, the winter in the homeland was significantly harsher. Greater snow, deeper temperatures, and less food. Kenan didn’t just accept the cold but embraced it. Lucy was the only one hunkered down. Dion would’ve enjoyed longer naps inside the heat of the home, but that wasn’t for him. Not this winter.
The fox stuck to Kenan's side. He followed his master to the horse circle after dinner, done so since he got back and grudgingly copied the behavior in the mornings. Dion felt the absence of the mother. It confused him. His attention was switched and his ears twitched with introduced sound. “Ma going to join us?” Kenan asked.
Dion heard the words. At times nearly comprehended them. Mostly they were discarded and received the instinct of body language. His friend was as uncertain as himself.
“Nope. No, not today.” Doco said. Dion felt his hair bristle. He thought it was the magic that rushed over as a staff was placed in Kenan’s hands. “Start them and listen.” Kenan did start the odd dance he performed every night. The fox thought it was some silly thing for sentients and never really paid attention to it. “The snow is low right now and the next storm is off until next week. If not a fortnight.”
Dion looked at his master’s uncle. The fox’s head twisted as he tried to understand. There was something in the words. Sadness. Similar but not accurate. Remorse seemed better. An ugly regret. Dion was perplexed.
Doco continued. “I’m leaving for the village tomorrow. I've gotten a letter. An old friend is back in town. And… ahh… Kenan stop.” The emotion radiated off of him. Dion stood and sniffed the air. The fox froze and his hackles rose. No. It couldn’t be. “It’s hard to lie to you now. You know that?”
Kenan put the end of his staff down and then leaned on it. “What're you saying?” Dion very nearly growled. It wasn’t the right time, it was too soon. The fox lost all interest in the conversation.
“I’m saying that there is a conscript in the village. I’m going back to the army, Ken.”
‘What?! Why?!”
“Because they would take you. We're at war Ken. Shio is pulling out all the stops. If they take me, they’ll leave you alone. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this before.”
“What about us? Me?! You're just gonna leave?!”
Doco scoffed. His face formed annoyance and then bounced to a warmth. “No choice nephew. You're almost fourteen. In another two years, you’ll be a man. I’ll be back by then. I promise. Besides, you’ll forget I’m even gone. Your hands will be too full being a big brother.”
“What?” Kenan paused. Confusion followed more confusion that morphed into something of excitement. “Wait wait wait….
Dion used that moment to slip under a fence beam and bound away. Time was what he needed. He feared he didn’t have much of it.
***
The fox sat on the floor. Ever since the night before last, he had been restless. He watched the slow rise and fall of Kenan’s chest, he slept like the dead. He was thankful for that but cursed it at the same time. Dion wished he could curl up on his master's chest and pretend everything was all right. Another part of him hoped that Kenan would wake up suddenly and catch onto his schemes. For as much as he could alert him, Dion wouldn’t. The Fate's silver threads were intertwined. That was a mess the fox couldn’t get out of, much less his master.
The time was here. A rising problem that wasn’t to be ignored. The fox wanted, yearned for a final scratch behind the ear. Just a little bit more time perched on Kenan’s shoulder. Dion shook his head. He hadn’t the time to despair, his best friend hadn’t the time either. The danger was close now. Fire. Ash. Death.
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The timing had to be right. Had to be perfect. A debt was to be paid tomorrow.
Dion dived under the darkness of the bed. He pulled out the old tan book followed by Coaxing Fire. A path had already been made and accepted for the transfer. Lately, as the snow started to wane. Kenan invited the cold even more and opened his window each night. As quiet as his kind was, Dion put the tan tome in his maw and jumped out of the room, careful not to drop the book he clutched.
He took his time to not alert the chickens. In his mind, they were finicky creatures that cared too much about what was around them. They were prey after all. The pigs were better but sometimes the horses were testy. He didn’t mind either of them too much if they didn’t mind him. Regardless of that fact, he took the extra precaution and stealth past them.
There was a long dragging look towards the coop that Dion had to peel away from. The fox would deal with his greed later. Now wasn’t the time for his own needs.
After some time he slipped into the stables and pattered carefully into Jefned's stall. The tall black and white beast was already awake. Saddled too. The smart colt threw a raging fit when Kenan tried to unsaddle it after he rode him to the Crest Tree and back.
The two shared a look. Desperation was shared and kindness was given. The fox broke it off when he jumped onto Jefned's back. After several awkward attempts, he clawed one of the saddlebags open and dropped the book inside. There was a repeat process for the red fire tome. The second trip almost sent the entire plan into a catastrophic meltdown when a labor horse was almost alerted. Jefned had enough pull in the equine hierarchy to quell the short outrage.
It was a long struggle. It frustrated the small fox’s brain to the point he would’ve just chewed through the wood of the stable. He fell more than once. The latch kicked back down too many times to count. Not that Dion could. And caught innumerable splinters on his tail. Eventually, the step came to fruition as the fox successfully unlocked Jefned's stall. Dion jumped on the back of the black horse and the two rode away from the homestead. Out in the greater planes, the insidious smell lessened.
Each animal decided enough was enough. Jefned bowed and let Dion off. Both fox and horse passed a stare between each other. Remembrance, somber emotion, and regret. Then the tiny head of the small canine touched the huge snout of the colt. The goodbye was said.
Dion raced back to the farmstead. He did a perimeter and found a good hiding place. He lay there and waited.
***
The cocks in their coup howled their angry yells at the soon-to-come sun. Kenan felt that his companion was gone. Off to do whatever foxes did in the morning. He stood, stretched. The muscles protested but their rebellion broke down when his body felt limber and optimal. After that, he lightly worked all of his easily accessible tissue.
Like usual he awoke before the rest of his family. Kenan put on some clothes and had the determination to do his morning session without his uncle. Then, if possible, get some chores in before breakfast. The plan was shambled a bit when he found Doco on a saddled horse, halfway out the stable.
“Uncle,” Kenan said.
“Nephew.” Doco smiled.
“No goodbyes?”
“No. Never good at them anyway.” The smile on Doco’s face was the same. But its foundation crumbled and felt weak. “Do your chores. Train. Start the red book of yours. Eat a lot. If you see any girl that’s in your fancy make sure they see you with your shirt off. Done deal.”
‘Uh, what?”
“Never mind that.” A true grin came back for a moment. “Any other good uncle advice I’m missing?”
“Get sleep?”
“Yes, get plenty of sleep. Well, little Kenny…”
“I can go.”
“I said ill-what did you say?”
Kenan clenched his fist. “I-I… uncle I can see it. You won’t tell me. Tell any of us. But I know how you wake up at night. I see your sad stares. Whenever you get surprised I know how you reach for your belt. I know that your hand trembles after. Uncle, I don’t think you can go through it again. And…” He paused. “I don’t think I’m going to be the only son anymore.”
Doco looked at his nephew. The meaning of the last words cut deeper than Doco expected. Hurt worse than he thought he could feel. He got off of his horse and walked in front of Kenan. Another part of him was shocked, or maybe there was a truth he hadn’t seen before. But the fourteen-year-old matched his uncle’s look with the confidence of Ava and the stoicism of Tyris.
“Aye. My boy. War changes people and not often for the better. My heart sometimes drifts back to the battles. I don’t know… nephew.” He grabbed Kenan’s shoulders. “Not a day will go by when I won't think of what you're willing to give. But just because your offering doesn’t mean I’m going to take it.” Doco hugged him. It came as a surprise to both. It was the first time Doco had shared one in a long, long time. “You will be stronger than me one day, your father too. You have a lot of decisions to make and you can do anything you want.” He pulled away. “Right now. I have to abide by mine. Do you know what I mean? I’m older than your father.”
Kenan’s eyes widened, it didn’t take long for them to fill with liquid. Doco backed up and got on the horse. “Uncle?”
“Ken?”
“Not fair.”
Doco smiled. He spurred the horse forward and it started to trot away. “See you later, nephew!”He waved behind him as his ride increased its speed to a gallop.
“Goodbye uncle.” Kenan watched the silhouette of Doco get smaller and smaller. He waited there. Shook as driblets streamed from his face. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he just watched his uncle die.