8:17 PM, 9th of December
<35 minutes since unscheduled departure>
Wolf woke to a constant buzzing that grated against her senses.
The buzzing soon revealed its visual counterpart: four large light fixtures, as bright and intense as the spotlights at an Imaginarium Britannica show, and all riveted upon Wolf and Wolf alone.
Until this moment, the Assassin had dismissed ‘electricity’ as a novelty that someone her age needn’t trifle with. Yet, under its domineering glare, she was forced to reckon with it anew… and found herself wilting. Constant buzzing that grated against her senses. Unbroken rays of energy that left her skin feeling at once clammy and raw. And worst of all, an absolute refusal to let her crawl back into the shadows where she belonged.
Where she could run, hide, and be alone. Where she’d been safe for thirty years and where she should’ve stayed for thirty more.
With the whole of her miserable self illuminated, Wolf duly decided to inspect it, such as it was.
She was bound to a chair by her arms and legs. The chair itself was luxuriant enough, with its sturdy make and generous cushion, and she might’ve even been comfortable in her current position, were it not for the steel cables of Goblin origin that dug into her fragile skin, for her one bleeding ear where someone had obviously ripped out her [WHISPER BOND] earpiece… and, worst of all, for the fact she had no way to shift her damn knees!
This stab of annoyance tore her out of the last of her stupor, which allowed her to cotton onto two things at once. First, she saw that she was held captive somewhere inside the now emptied Reception Hall, the very site of her latest disaster. Second, she heard the rhythmic clanking of wheels against track, and felt the vibration of a mechanical behemoth rumbling toward its next destination.
How had Gabs described it? The chuffing maws of despair and innocence lost? Despite her abject misery, Wolf couldn’t help but let out a snort of self-derision. Just how was it that a retired Assassin, even at the ripe old age of 65, still had innocence to lose and new depths of despair to sink to?
As if in reaction to the sound—or perhaps it was to the despair—a dark figure stirred somewhere ahead, before stepping into the light to reveal her full silver-haired glory.
“Wolf. You’re awake.”
As soon as she saw and heard Eddie, Wolf filled with a fresh surge of self-loathing. For even now… even after all that had happened and more… she still couldn’t muster the will to hate Edwina Hofstra. Couldn’t repel the effects this woman had exerted over her, ever since they’d met as two young wildlings that once ruled the forests of Shved Mountain.
To Wolf, even now, Eddie was beautiful. She was smart, competent, sharp-witted, and unexpectedly kind. And it was this unexpected—undeserved—kindness that had and still did perplex and ensnare Wolf von Leid. Had compelled her to fall hopelessly in love with a self-assured Tactician who’d never needed anyone else in her life—let alone an awkward Assassin and her too many insecurities.
And it was this unexpected kindness again that held Wolf now as she watched Eddie pull up a chair and face her, with a sad smile that had always hid more stories than it told. The kindness held Wolf in its fragile promise of hope, of an angle she wasn’t seeing, of a plan she hadn’t been privy to—of an end to the nightmare.
But as soon as Eddie spoke again, the last of Wolf’s false hope crumbled like rusted metal.
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“I just thought… that you deserved an explanation.”
Despite her complete immobility, Wolf somehow sank deeper into her seat. She held her breath for a second, then let it out as another snort—which sounded more like a viscid cough. An explanation. That was the last thing she wanted. No, what she wanted instead was for Eddie to—
“What did the Urlking promise you?”
Wolf’s demand for an explanation came out in a gravelly snarl, directed at the floor. It wasn’t what she wanted to know nor think about, and yet… the alternative was somehow worse.
“Johann.”
Wolf looked up, slowly. Eddie held her gaze, with a sad smile that hid the darkness that roiled underneath.
“Johann’s alive?” Wolf blurted, anxious despite herself.
“He is. And the Urlking has promised his safe return.”
“… In exchange for me.”
“In exchange for the one human that came closest to ending his reign. Yes.”
Wolf scoffed, then that scoff quickly turned into a chuckle, one that felt darkly off-colour even to her.
“Why was the Urlking in such a hurry to get to me, anyway? I wasn’t about to try anything again on my own. He—you—could’ve just let me rot in peace on Shved Mountain.”
“… It’s not for me to question the Urlking’s moti—”
“Not for you to question—!! But it was for you to deceive me, wasn’t it? To deceive all of us. Your orphanage kids. Your packmates! This was what it was about from the beginning. From the moment you showed up at my door with a lie—a revenge fairy tale that took you thirty years to spin. And all through the little tricks you used to get me to commit. Even when you were—”
Wolf choked on the bile that was her words. She then swallowed the bile and went on, with as much savagery as she could muster.
“How did it feel to make love to me, Eds?”
“Wolf, I—”
“How did it feel to be the Urlking’s whore?”
Silence. Save for a constant buzzing that soothed Wolf’s senses against the fire that ravaged her entire being.
After some time, Eddie stood. She turned and stepped back into the darkness beyond Wolf’s brightly lit prison.
But not before uttering with a tremulous voice, “Goodbye, Wolf.”
And Wolf was alone again.
In her solitude, she had time. Time for the bile to settle. Time for her to shut her weary eyelids, the better for her anger to fade… and for self-loathing to wash over anew.
For even now… even after all that had been said and more… a part of her was glad. Glad that here, in the twilight of her days, she’d yet proven to be of some value to Eddie Hofstra.
***
When Wolf woke again, it wasn’t to the faint buzz of electricity, but to the loud BANG of something heavy and metallic falling somewhere behind her.
The noise was followed by a rush of air—a chill, but distinct from [EMBRITTLE]. For this chill contained with it the scent of snow, oil, and the mountains. Outside air.
As her sleep-and-grief-addled mind struggled to attune to her new reality, Wolf’s thoughts turned to her packmates. Linlin! What had happened to Linlin after their failed attempt on the Urlking’s life? And what of the Bolton twins, who were presumably still next to the boiler room when it’d all gone down? And just what had Gabs been on about before her words had cut out, and the lights along with them?
As Wolf worried for Linlin, Salt, Pepper, and Gabs, she also felt the heat of shame. Why had it taken her this long to spare her packmates a thought? She’d been so wrapped up in Eddie that she’d forgotten about the friends who were loyal, who’d stuck with the job until the bitter end. And here she was, taking a… a pensioner’s nap while her friends could very well have been in danger!
But the rush of air was now followed by approaching footsteps, and Wolf was forced to first worry for her own safety. Just one pair of boots, from the sound of it, though it wasn’t heavy enough to tell her which of the Goblins might have come for her.
No, if anything, the footsteps were measured, graceful… almost as if—
“Gabs? Is Linlin. I find Wolf. What now?”