FENRER

Auras danced in time with the classic Hanekan jig played in the corner of safety from the rowdy patrons, a swollen current in the air to press deeper into his temples, but he resisted the urge to grab his aurablinder to block out the excess in senses. Reyn's words from the King's Summit remained in his mind and the truth became clear for his need to get the dawnblade back in his hands — the hands of a Pyren where it belonged. Agitation sliced through the jovial streams of wispy aura seeping through the swirling wood containing the energy of his countrymen. Yuven occupied the corner of the booth with one foot on the table and his arms crossed, the icy maelstrom forming a bubble of clarity around the table. Thankful for Yuven's imposing aura and Adara's thick silver mist to swallow the rest, he abandoned the temptation for his aurablinder to study the problem at hand. Every word slipped out of their mouth with drunken spittle, though some sharpened to fine points of awareness. Yuven shook his head, listening to the same words, but Fenrer needed the answer from them all the same.

I just need to figure this out.

Fenrer sipped at his mug and tasted the gentle sweetener of honey. Listen. Wait. Vital teachings for all Aurus to measure the aura of the flow, and to avoid drowning in its oceanic torrent. Unable to ignore the plight of others slinging across his own emotions, he curled his hands over his mug and continued to wait for a crucial moment to dig into the root of the broken pieces of wordy leaves carrying the frustration and pain in their hearts.

'You think we'd follow a Kolis after what happened to the stewards of the Goldwood?' A string of words, cold, clear, and unwilling to change with the tide. Fenrer dug his fingers into his knuckles at their misplaced rage towards a man who had been eight during the night of the Desecration. Flowers wilted in hungry oil, not made of Derelict ooze. He tucked his nose on the edge of his tented fingers and tried not to bounce along to the pulsing auras, projecting Yuven's further around him in focus when the congregation of auric flames burst into an inferno at the peak of bitterness and resentment.

"Who does the king think he is?" the ringleader spat into the flames and sent a plume of embers from the edge of his annoyance. "I say we block off the roads for good. If they rely so much on our lumber, they should've thought of that before desecrating the groves and hillside! His bastard father salted the ground and murdered the stewards, including the children, in cold blood!" His fist slammed into the stone, which took the impact with ease. "I won't follow a Kolis ever again!"

People nodded along to his spitting flames and chimed in with their own grievances.

Fenrer breathed out in time with the arrows whizzing overhead in a memory. He released his hand to unhook his crescent blade to rest it on the ground, using his foot to nudge it out of the way of the boiling point. Yuven cast his gaze downwards, a pearl forming into a question, but he hoped for his Oathbound to understand without needing his constant words. Across from him, Adara's tension thickened the mist when her own knowledge stretched at uneasy familiarity of raucous patrons in a tavern. But we have always been so set in stubbornness... Fenrer rested his arm around his mug before taking one last drink for the road ahead.

"Sivaport will crumble without access through the Goldwood," one piped up. "I agree. I say we set up posts at the most used routes by his housecarls. They can go around, they can try their luck at Blackwater Pass or through the marshes, but they cannot be allowed to cross the forest."

"Molvisaliz," Yuven's came out a thin warning, but he set his plan in motion.

Fenrer twisted his knees out, then asked through the auras, "This vendetta won't lead anywhere," he said above the noise, causing the music to quiet in its curiosity, and the agitated Wolford residents to twist to him. "The war is over, and pressing upon old wounds won't bring the dead back to life." His arm burned beneath his band, but he tucked it closer to himself for a position of defense. "Haneka will never heal if we continue to go this route — you believe shutting down access through the Goldwood will make things harder on Heiise Reyn, but I'm afraid to tell you it wouldn't just be him. You would be affected as well for your stubbornness."

Auras thinned, and he held on a bubble of flames when the ringleader eyed the crescent blade, then crept closer to him with his shoulders squared, and Fenrer narrowed his eyes when the bubbling orange aura curled into a sneer. "And what would you know of our business, Warden?" he asked, cold. "What would you know of our grief? He murdered them in cold blood, and you're asking us to follow his son? I thought Storm Wardens were supposed to stay out of conflict, so maybe you should keep your damn nose out of this one if you know what's good for you."

"I am not excusing the actions of the last king. He was a tyrant, and shed the blood of innocents, but he is gone now, and King Reyn is a good man, a well-intentioned man who wants to right the wrongs of his father, but the sins of his father cannot rest on him," Fenrer pointed out. "You will not be doing any favours to the dead by keeping them from their rest."

A snap cracked through the auras, and Fenrer slid out of his seat when the ringleader went to pull him out of it. "It might be so ancients damned easy for you," he snarled. "Your Order focuses on Derelicts, but what do you do against man? They murdered children, Warden. They boxed them in flames and watched them burn alive. They desecrated the folk. If you heard their screams on the hills that night you wouldn't be so willing to forgive."

Fenrer breathed in the fumes of war. "Feel free to enlighten me," he fought to keep his voice steady, and he noticed Yuven lean forward in quiet realisation. Arrows slammed into scaled roofs and burnt apart the wood and stone. "Tell me what happened that night. Tell me what happened to the stewards of the Goldwood." He took another heavy step forward through bloody mud and the ringleader matched his step with a snarl. "Enlighten me on it."

Tell me about the emptiness.

He kept his hands loose at his sides while the ringleader clenched his fists. "In the night they came from the main road of Sivaport," the ringleader said. "In a single night they wiped out a very old Hanekan family, who had continuously been loyal to the crown, and were systematically betrayed by them."

"The king paid off reavers to set them to the torch," another interjected.

In baseless rumours, no one knows the emptiness.

"Enlighten me," Fenrer repeated, and twisted his hand around to stop Yuven when he cracked his knuckles with a growing sneer to show off his canines. "Enlighten me as to how lashing out long after the Desecration helps anyone, including the dead. You dishonor them with that sole action. Heiise Reyn has reached out in hopes of mending that bridge. The steward of the Goldwood fought and died for the peace we now experience in this kingdom. Instead of drowning in the blood of other Hanekans, we can unite against the Derelicts." It lodged deeper into his throat, but the aura sliced into his temples. "If you're going to moan about it and demand a ransom from a king who was no older than a boy, no older than the ones murdered on the hills, at least be accurate with your knowledge of the event instead of relying on rumours."

Fenrer steadied himself when the ringleader pushed him in a haze of mist, and others stood up to follow the commotion. Always ready for a scuffle. Always ready to unleash their passionate energy.

Yuven raised an eyebrow with a mouthed 'here we go.'

He fought the wolven smile growing on his cheeks, and the flames drove into his nose. "They flew no colours and used siege weapons," Fenrer whispered and found his teeth. "A hail of flaming arrows — enlighten me."

Another push, and the energy set alight with the thrown fist. Adara jolted backwards into a bubble of ice as Fenrer threw his knee into their side. A different beat began as Fenrer scrambled to find more room inside the tavern as some hopped onto tables to get a better look at the daily bar scuffle. He shook out his shoulders when the ringleader tossed one of the people out of his way with his own snarl. "Goddamn holier than thou Wardens," he hissed.

Fenrer eased out the tension growing in his neck when his opponent stomped forward. One breath. One heartbeat. Ten seconds. Another punch. It rang in his ears when he fell to the tempo of war. Too heavy on his right side, swaying into his left. Another dodged lunge, but he grunted when the man latched onto his arm with a breathy snarl. "Come on then, boy, if you want this damn fight so badly, let me put you in your place," he said as his hand choked his leather collar. Fenrer sent a surging tempest to his feet when he tried to haul him off the ground. Green glyphs snapped to life as he tried to push him back, and a piece of wood curled to drip his feet, before rubberbanding straight into the gameboard.

"Hey!" someone snapped. "We were using that!"

It was a torrent of focus.

Fenrer slammed his elbow into the man's forearm before whipping around to grab his knuckles. "You're the one asking for it." He rammed his shoulder into his and dug his feet in and the energy coursed through his blood. One push, he sent him scrambling for the table, then dodged when a mug whizzed past his head to hit another in the back of theirs.

The waiter brought a plate of food to put it in front of Adara, who sat there slackjawed.

He found a different grin crawling on his lips, and fell into another quick dodge when his opponent dashed for him. Mist collected from their hands as they tossed water mixed with unseen dirt. Fenrer sent his foot through the glyph to break it apart with his own. Vines crawled around their boots, and Fenrer tugged the energy back before tackling them to the ground at a moment of weakness. His knee pressed into their stomach, but he grunted when they shoved their hand into his side and threw him to the wooden floor. Into a roll to collect himself, he touched the protective stones and tested their strength. One tap of the drum of the world, Fenrer readied himself, then swept his leg out from underneath him at his hasty step.

His friend's auras fluttered in an unending itch.

Fenrer sent his glyph through the floorboards, and wispy tendrils kept the drunk on the ground. Fenrer shrugged his shoulders and took a step back when another opponent approached to avenge his embarrassed fellow. Fists held at the ready, he stopped when a lady at the bar cleared her throat.

"I really hate to break apart this stunning performance of who has the most bite to their bark," she said and whisked a flaming red strand of hair behind her ear. "But, sers, I'm afraid he's thrown you all for a loop. You fell, hook, line and sinker. Truly, he couldn't have made it more obvious. I'd give you the excuse of you being drunk, Mafor, but you were barely in your cups." She tapped the mug on the bar and swung one leg over the other.

"What the hells are you talking about, Kalla?" he snapped. "You thought I was going to let this boy Warden sully the memory of the Goldwood?

"I'm afraid that boy of yours may have more knowledge than you do." Kalla shuffled with her familiar black cloak before shaking her head at him, but then smiled at him. "What do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Fenrer Pyren?" Her eyes fully opened to reveal sharp blue swirls, and she grinned. "We truly can't help ourselves, can we?"

It went still in the tavern.

"Pyren?" Mafor rasped.

Fenrer shook out the rest of the tension in his shoulders. "I often find myself finishing what others start, Miss Kalla." He bowed to her. "Though I'm curious to know how you knew who I was."

"Heiise Reyn talked about the Summit with me."

Mafor eyed Kalla, and stumbled to his feet as she hopped off the barstool to wipe off her black Keeper cloak.

Every eye trained on him, the carrier of the memories.

"Does no one know how to keep their mouths clamped?" Yuven snapped from the corner before bursting out of his chair to join his side, and Adara followed behind with the bread in her hands. "What is a Keeper doing here?"

"Finding the dawnblade," Fenrer whispered.

Quieter.

"You'll find I might have a bit of luck on that front, Pyren."

He tested her words, but needed to believe.

"Impossible," Mafor snapped. "Kalla, everyone was murdered."

"I'm sure the old king would've liked to think he murdered them all." Kalla tipped her head at him. "Don't ever hide who you are, Fenrer Pyren. You might walk into a fight you can't finish."

He released one last second of air to tuck his hand for his wolven pin. Heavy on the last wish of his family, he fashioned his braid again to slip the pin through to hold it in place — the ultimate sign of those who traced themselves back to the desert giants. He twisted back to Mafor. "I'm sorry for the deception, but I doubt you would've given me a straight answer had I just asked you what the problem was," he said. "I meant what I said, and you did end up enlightening me." He squared his shoulders, then pushed out the painful auras out of his head to lose himself in the silver mist hanging in crystal ice. "As it turns out... memories can't always be trusted for the facts. Even I can't remember every detail. I just remember the flaming arrows as Sungrove burnt to the ground." He bowed to the dumbfounded Hanekans, lost in the broken fight. "I am alive, though. You can't kill the entire pack, after all. There will always be one."

The dawn will always come.

Mafor went ashen. "You're Lord Soren's son."

His name twisted into his mind with a shattered promise and cracked tree trunks torn out of the ground. "Yes."

Some of the Hanekans stepped back. Some sat down in disbelief. Others stared.

"How could you sit there and tell us to forgive a Kolis after what they did to your family?" Mafor demanded.

"I'm not telling you to forgive," Fenrer said. "But don't pretend you knew my father, or that any of you know what happened that night. You put the sins of a tyrant on Reyn... you might just create one in the ashes, and that's not what he would've wanted." Pain bubbled in his throat, and Adara's brow creased in concern while Yuven scowled at what he must have seen as foolish pride. "The dawn will come. It must always come," he whispered his last words to him, to rumble through the heavens and split the despair. "I implore you to not make a hasty decision. I cannot demand that you give Heiise Reyn a chance to prove himself. See him for his actions, not for who his father was." He turned back to Keeper Kalla, who tucked her hands into her sleeves. It weighed heavier on his shoulders, and he went for the door to leave the knowledge behind. From the rippling motions of silver and ice, Yuven and Adara both followed behind him.

In the fire of truth, it sliced across his arm and left a scar in his heart at a man's booming laugh, cut short by hail of fireballs.

"You should've told me that's what you wanted," Yuven hissed.

"They got it out, now they can think," Fenrer whispered and went back onto the street, but stopped when Yuven threw his hand into his shoulder. "What?"

"Do not think you can shut me out," Yuven bit. "You could've told me."

"And have you not enjoy these random whims of mine?" Fenrer fought for a smile. "You're the one who thought I was doing this for a pointless reason. You now know."

Adara crept around them. "You said you got your answer."

"I did." Fenrer stretched his arms around him. "We can head to Sivaport, but I feel a dampness in the air. We should be careful as we pass through."

Violet sharpness wriggled through the icy maelstrom in disbelief as Yuven's feathers thinned against his head and his eyes narrowed in a flash of sharp irritation, which he pushed to the side to free himself of the migraine building between his ears..

I needed to know that what he sacrificed himself for... that it wasn't in vain.