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Sascha had run for two days.
She was so tired that she could have fallen asleep as she ran. At best, she was making good ground. At worst, she had no clue where she was going. It seemed like it was utterly hopeless now.
When she walked tiresomely to the very edge of a huge steep hill, her mouth fell open at the sight that the hill overlooked. Mountains; nothing but mountains as far as the eye could see and fading off into the horizon. There was also a small streak of what she liked to call the Big Pond. It was another word for the ocean. She had… traveled across England? That was over one hundred miles!
And if she did not find Windstorm City anytime soon, how was she expected to travel so far?! Especially not knowing what direction she needed to go.
Sascha was stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no choice but to struggle forward. And so she did just that; made her way down the hill and continued on her blind journey with the bag of gold coins held firmly in her mouth.
The white wolf continued to walk until twilight came upon the world around her. She had never been out this late, except for the past two days. She was still very scared of the shadows the trees cast, and the illusions that the time of twilight created inside of a dark misty forest.
There were no leaves on the trees because it was winter, and even though the ground and foliage were covered with white frost there was no snow in sight.
The worst part of this journey so far was that she was so cold and disoriented! This winter temperature chilled her to the bone, even with her thick white coat.
When Sascha heard the breaking of dried leaves close by, anyone would imagine that it startled her greatly.
What was it? Was someone watching her? Or was it just a prey animal?
No, it couldn’t be. Prey was extremely scarce in winter, there would not be a random animal running around. Besides, the crunching of the leaves was too heavy and not light like a mouse or a squirrel walking.
Eventually, the breaking branches crackled in a rhythm like footsteps and it became louder and louder until she felt as if the being were right behind her.
Spinning around trying to locate where the sounds were coming from in the dark forest, Sascha began to panic.
Who was playing around with her mind? Was it a hunter? She honestly hoped not, because she really didn’t have the skills to escape in time, blinded by the darkness of twilight.
While in her state of terror, she saw things she would never have had she been calm; the trees started to look like skeletons and the bare bushes looked like evil creatures.
“Hello there. Are you alright?” A very soft and feminine voice spoke behind her.
Sascha whipped around with her fangs bared only to see a ragged gray she-wolf giving her a friendly smile.
She sensed no threat from the female, so she let her fangs disappear behind her lips for the moment. Instead, she just let out a corny growl to let the female before her know that she would not tolerate trouble.
The she-wolf chuckled innocently. “Did your pack not teach you how to snarl properly?” She inquired, tilting her head.
“My growl is perfectly fine!” Sascha snapped irritably. “Now tell me. What is your name? And what do you want with me?”
Eying the she-wolf suspiciously Sascha placed down the bag of gold coins and hit it behind her white front paws.
The light gray she-wolf tilted her head and rotated her ears curiously, and then let out a huge grin. “My name is Akemi,” she answered excitedly, wagging her tail to and fro. “What’s yours?”
This female was a gray she-wolf with lighter underfur and darker gray speckles and blue eyes.
Now that Sascha thought about it Akemi did look quite unique in fur pattern. That was when the white she-wolf caught a glimpse of Akemi’s bright blue eyes. They seemed to glow and shine through the darkness of the forest.
“I’m... my name is Sascha,” she said blankly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sascha!”
Sascha sighed, letting her muscles relax a bit. Well, it didn’t look like Akemi was a threat. In fact, she didn’t sound very wise either. More like a newborn pup. “Well, Akemi,” she began as she sat down on the cold brown leaves. “What’s your business here?”
Akemi looked down at the ground for a moment. “Actually, I’m nothing but a mere nomad,” she started. “My pack cast me out, as I was a troublesome omega. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”
What was an omega? Maybe it was one of the pack positions? Or perhaps it was another word for a traitor? She had no knowledge of wolf packs, only of the druid clan. “What is an omega, may I ask?” Sascha asked in a much friendlier voice.
“It is the lowest of pack positions. Only a wolf that betrays their pack in some way receives that position,” Akemi gave the explanation carefully. “They used me as bait during battles to distract our enemies. That’s exactly where I got this scar from,” she pointed her nose to a claw mark on her shoulder.
Clumps of fur were missing on the front of her body, which Sascha assumed were from these experiences. Her story made her grateful that her mother had abandoned her as a pup for being half dog and that King Avyrus’ warriors had been miraculously able to find her and raise her in the druid clan.
“One day I just refused to do as they said and the alpha cast me into exile. And that’s pretty much how I ended up as a wanderer,” Akemi finished, blinking multiple times and looking to side as if she were nervous talking about it.
“I shouldn’t be here really, and neither should you. The Twilight Forest is the Twilight Pack’s territory.”
The Twilight Forest, huh? She had heard of it when she was a pup. One of the hunting dogs had told her that at twilight mythical creatures would roam around and kill anything in their way.
Were these legends true? Would there be magical creatures out in the wilderness, hunting her down?
“You mean... the Twilight Forest from the legends?” Sascha inquired.
“I think so,” Akemi responded, unsure. “I overheard a human say that no one has ever dared enter the Forest at night, except for the knights.”
She paused, thinking, then went on with a raised brow. “I would imagine that this is the Forest they’re referring to.”
Sascha wanted to say something in return, but Akemi started to speak before she could even open her mouth.
“Are you from around here?” She queried.
Sascha sighed when she was reminded of the druids, and shifted her white tail on the dead and dried leaves, looking away from Akemi’s blue stare.
“No,” she replied without hesitation. “I’m from the druid clan of Rosewood Forest.”
“You mean those magic folk?” Akemi looked surprised. “Did they kidnap you from your pack?”
Sascha looked back at the lone she-wolf. “I never had a pack,” she answered and then went on with a smile. “I guess you can say they just took me in before I even opened my eyes.”
She was beginning to like Akemi, but then again there was still that barrier; what was Akemi’s opinion of magic? Maybe she was not fond of it, or the druids, for her first guess had been that they had kidnapped Sascha.
Akemi just nodded: “So why are you so far away from your clan’s territory?”
“It’s a long story...”
“I’m listening,” she smiled brightly, eager to hear the white wolf’s story.
Sascha told all that had happened to her in the past few days to this hyper light gray she-wolf. Akemi was silent the entire time.
When Sascha had finished, Akemi spoke up softly as she stood up on all fours. “So you need to know where Windstorm City is so you can find this Rei person.”
“Yes!” Sascha wagged her tail as she stood up as well, her bright green eyes flashing with hopefulness. “If you know, then please tell me. You’d be a friend for life if you did...”
Akemi gave a high pitched laugh at Sascha. “Is that so?” She began. “I could certainly help you. In fact, I could take you there myself.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course I’d do that,” Akemi winked at her and then gave a chuckle. “Well hey, when you’ve been kicked out of your pack and have nowhere else to be why shouldn’t you try to help your fellow wolves, right?”
The light gray she-wolf paused, and then added more seriously. “To your surprise I’m sure, you were heading the right way. Windstorm City’s lower village is just across this forest.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
This just shocked her. All Sascha had to do was travel through the Twilight Forest and then she’d instantly be at the entrance of Windstorm City’s lower village, which would then lead her to the upper village? She wished that she could have figured that out by herself. “So when do you want to leave?” she asked.
“Tomorrow at dawn,” Akemi answered with a nod. “You look travel worn, so you’ll need rest if this Battle Master is to train you.”
“No, no, I’m doing okay,” Sascha protested softly.
“Nonsense,” Akemi smiled and walked away from Sascha, half expecting her to follow. “I know a place not too far from here. I slept there last night.”
With a quiet sigh, Sascha finally agreed and followed Akemi, picking up her well-hidden bag of gold coins.
Sascha had a general idea of what was happening back at the main city of Aerulis.
Due to her lack of knowledge she just assumed that the druids were sitting in a moldy dungeon, basically just waiting for her to rescue them all. But that was only half of what was really happening.
King Xanthus had ordered the trial of every druid be individual, to ‘make it last longer’. And the King was not feeling very merciful that morning.
Xanthus was broad in the arms and muscular in other places. He had long and wavy black hair with brown eyes.
He was overweight in the stomach area and was almost too lazy to start the trial for the druids that day. The general idea of a lazy monarch that anyone could imagine, but he enjoyed his life... not having to worry about anything, aside from his overloading duties as King of Aerulis.
He had very pale skin and wavy jet-black hair. He wore casual clothes; nothing like a King should wear. He mostly wore typical commoners clothing to keep from getting too hot.
Titus, the druid warrior that had first discovered Sascha abandoned in the forest, was thrown on his knees on the throne of King Xanthus and his loyal Queen Anne.
Titus let out a grunt of pain and the knights in the room laughed heartily at his misfortune.
The support of his knights made Xanthus crack a smirk.
“I come before you all today to pass judgment,” the King began loudly so that all could hear him well. The knights and ladies of the court listened intently, extremely curious to hear their King pass the druid’s sentence.
“This druid who goes under the name Titus has broken our greatest law. He is a user of sorcery and a danger to our city.” King Xanthus then looked down at the restrained druid with a look of deathly seriousness on his face. “You practice magic. Do you deny this?”
Titus hung his head, the guards holding a tighter grasp on his shoulders. “Yes,” he responded. “We do not practice sorcery.”
“Do you deny planning an attack against your King with wild beasts?”
“You,” Titus began, “are not my King.”
The King struggled to hold his hot temper with the druid warrior. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he continued to press the man, pacing in front of him, “Was it not you who recruited a wolf to torment and possibly kill the villagers of Aerulis?”
Titus looked up with surprise and stammered the fearful reply: “I never did such a thing! We only took the wolf pup in to help us catch food more easily!”
Xanthus began to mock the man: “And you expect me to believe the word of a druid? Besides, I own Rosewood Forest. My father may have been a fool letting the druids lives there in peace, but I will not do the same. I am not a fool.”
Titus looked down at his knees again, his heart racing and stomach aching with a sickening fear. He knew what Xanthus would do to him, and he prepared for it the past two days. But death was something you could never prepare for, at least when the process would be so terrible.
He awaited the words that would decide his fate.
Xanthus sighed and announced to the room with satisfaction: “You are guilty of practicing magic and treason. According to law, you will die by fire. You will be executed at dawn tomorrow.”
Titus closed his amber eyes tightly with fear and furrowed his eyebrows. The guards picked him up by the shoulders and dragged him out of the throne room.
“You’re a coward!” He shouted angrily back at the King. “At least I will die a warrior of the druid clan!”
Titus was hauled out the huge throne room doors that very moment, and taken back down into the dungeons to wait for the dawn, when he would be executed.
“I wish to be alone,” Xanthus ordered his crowd of watchers. “You are all dismissed until further notice.”
They left and Xanthus sat back down in his royal chair. The King had not forgotten that his Queen had wanted a word with him before the trials had begun. He placed his right hand gently on the top of hers.
“You wanted to speak with me,” he said with a loving smile. They had been married for years, deeply in love. Xanthus was sure she would never betray him for another man, and there was no question about it.
In his opinion, Anne was crazy about him, and she seemed to never leave his side. That was exactly how he felt about her, as well.
“Yes, it... it is quite important, my love,” she told him with a smile.
Xanthus placed his elbow on the arm of the black velvet chair and rested his head in the palm of his hand, his other arm spread out across his plump stomach. “Is it?” He said with an affectionate smile on his lips. “Tell me, I’m listening.”
“Well,” Anne smiled nervously and reached over to place a hand on her husband’s chest which was heated by the sun’s light. “You will be happy to hear this, I am sure.”
“Out with it,” he chuckled affectionately, welcoming her touch. “You have me curious now.”
Queen Anne took a deep breath and smiled. “I think I am with your child,” she announced to him.
He kissed her temple lovingly. “That’s wonderful!” He exclaimed softly to her. After all this wait... all the druids would finally be executed and most importantly his wife would be expecting a child.
He didn’t know how this morning could get any better.
“I love you, Anne,” he whispered affectionately as he stroked her cheek with his fingers.
Titus was thrown to the hay-filled ground of the prison cell roughly, skidding on the floor. The guards locked the cell door and left him in the dark. There was nothing to light the hall of prison chambers except for a couple of fiery torches. Titus rested his back up against the iron bars placed his chin on his knees, just thinking about what lay ahead of him the following dawn.
“Titus?” He heard a familiar voice speak from the cell across of him. “What did the King say?”
“What do you think he said, Avyrus?” He exclaimed with irritation. Titus was not angry at King Avyrus, just afraid. “He said exactly what he always says. Let the druid be burned at the stake!”
Avyrus was silent for a moment. The feelings that were going through him now... why couldn’t he save his clan?
Why did Xanthus have to be so unfeeling? Avyrus wanted to let it out through tears for a moment, but he was a man. Never mind being the King of the druid clan, he had a sense of pride to maintain. “I’m sorry, Titus,” he said quietly.
It was his duty to his clan to protect them and care for their well-being, and being unable to do that made him feel like a helpless child.
“Right,” Titus growled.
“I mean it, Titus,” the druid King pressed on. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t have protected you and the others better. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to us. I take the blame.”
“It’s not your fault,” Titus responded to Avyrus’ apology. In fact, if it weren’t for the wolf that Titus had brought into the clan they could have escaped much more easily.
Or, maybe not even be attacked in the first place.
“It’s mostly my fault. I brought the wolf into the clan, and we knew that Xanthus thinks wolves are a sign of sorcery. If it hadn’t been for me, this probably wouldn’t have even happened.”
There were about ten minutes of silence before Avyrus started to feel comfortable enough to speak again.
“The wolf will save our clan,” he spoke with great confidence. “It is because you brought this wolf to us that we will be saved from any trouble with Xanthus forever.”
Titus could not believe his ears. What had provoked Avyrus to say such a crazy thing?
“Have you gone mad, sire?” He turned to look at his King through the bars, raising a brow.
“No, I have not,” Avyrus responded. “One year ago, our physician Tairek gave a prophecy about the coming of a white wolf with the eyes the color of grass. He said that she would save us.”
“I think you’ve both gone mad.”
“Do not mistake Tairek’s old age for weakness, young warrior,” King Avyrus snapped sternly. “He has never been wrong about his prophecies before, what makes you think he’d be wrong now?”
“Because you must use logic, sire,” Titus retorted. He had not mistaken Tairek’s old age for weakness; he was just clearly stating that a wolf was not capable of the things Avyrus spoke of.
“A wolf is just a beautiful creature. Not a hero.”