FENRER

Little Wolf.

Swirls of darkness pushed through the world when stalks of grass tickled his cheek and nose. Soft, warm from the sun at its highest peak in the sky. Auras danced and created a mixture of home. It overlapped in the flow. Silver and a thick icy mist clashed against a draining web, full of pain and torment in a flaming moment. Arrows stuck out of a large man's back when he stumbled up the staircases. Home. He had to get home. Home. Home. Home.

Too many people in his way.

Little Wolf.

It swallowed the world and he tucked deeper into the mixtures of home and family. Pinpricks swept through his spine as steel clanged behind him. A groan left his lips, but he listened for the truth in the broken piece of the flow when it continued to call out the name of his childhood.

Dad?

A large man sat behind a desk with a quill almost too small for his hand as he scratched at a quill. Stones crushed his bones when Fenrer tried to creep closer. Bells and shouts rang in his ears as he tried to call out to him, nothing more than a memory. Nothing more than what he left behind in the drums of war. The large man lifted his head when he came closer, grabbing the desk to keep himself upright. Life glittered within the green eyes he shared with the giant who could tear out trees from the ground — or maybe that was a childish notion.

You promised me.

Swirls of stars bit with flames as he tried to ask the same question. A stupid, childish question.

"Am I going to have to fight you? Am I going to have to challenge you?"

Dad chuckled, full of warmth, power, and strength. He set the quill atop the scroll and tented his fingers with a mischievous smile. "No, you're my only son..." He leaned closer. "Unless you get older and think you can do a better job than I can to be the steward of Sungrove and the lands within this county. The people depend on us to protect them, to give them succour, to support them through the toughest of times." His smile stretched to his eyes, and Fenrer winced when he poked him in the cheek, but he tried not to lose himself in the past when Dad cupped his face instead, squishing his cheeks. "Until then, Fenrer, my little wolf..."

'I am the Lord of Sungrove.'

Little wolf of my blood, a different, older voice said.

Fenrer faced the misty direwolf, scattered to the wind. "Kon?"

Memories broke apart, but he remained the constant in his life, never dragging him through it, but a supportive, guiding paw. Flames coiled around his temples and auras screamed with sharper teeth than a rampaging Derelict. Mixtures of colours brought him through the dark with the hush of silver grass. Moonlight cast a glow on the manor, his childhood home, where arrows protruded out of the scaled roof. No embers bathed the forge, where Mother observed the runesmith of Sungrove as he worked on weapons. Father sat in a chair, whittling a block of wood.

I wanted to be a giant like you.

Fenrer studied his fingers resting in the whispering grass.

"Little Wolf," Kon said. "I had not the strength to protect you a second time."

'I promise to return," Dad said in the hail of flames.

It's okay, Kon. I should've... I should not have been so foolish. Dew collected over his cheeks, and he rested his head against the dirt. Whispered silver begged for him to stand on his two feet, the same childish question on his lips. But it's like... I never grew up from that silly little child... who thought he could tear trees out of the ground. His skull pounded and bounced his thoughts around when he smacked against the grass, falling into Mother's embrace.

"And what is wrong with being a silly little cub sometimes?" Kon questioned. "The dawn must come. For those that come before..."

For those that will come after. Fenrer sucked in his lips and released a tight sight through his nose at the pulse in the grass. Fingers into a fist, he rolled over onto his boiling stomach to drag himself from the dirt which covered the burial mound of his ancestors. In my blood, the dawn's flame. On his knees, the blur sharpened into clarity as Adara stepped back from Father's broken aura, where empty magick swirled around the spirit inside, trapped in the same moment haunting his nightmares. Yuven switched his gaze to him, blood dotting his lips when his pupils constricted into beads. He pressed a hand on his knee, shoving his longsword in the ground to rise. It swayed with the orbit of the moons, but he shook out the ringing and drumming in his ears to tear his longsword from the grass when Father came closer to them, a final, desperation driven desire to protect a moment long gone.

He brushed his thumb down the runic fuller. It lit up with emerald smoke. He pushed it through a glyph, to send the gathered flames through the center to Father's back. It slammed into him, and he trembled when Father twisted around with a necrotic snarl, never able to smile again. One rune dissipated with the usage of magick.

"Soren Pyren," he called out, then raised the sword higher to point it at him. "In the eyes of the Ancients, of the flow, of the world tree," he recited a text slowly escaping him from each head pounding moment. He tightened his grip on the guard of his sword. "I, Fenrer Pyren, challenge you for the right of stewardship." His heart pounded for the final drumbeat. "Let none stand in our way, for there can only be one — I challenge your right... to the death." He brought his free hand to hold the longsword, steeling himself for the acceptance.

In a just, fair world, the challenge would never lead to death.

But this world is... cruel.

Father's bone fingers dug deeper into the warhammer when a larger plume of mist escaped through missing teeth. Fenrer held himself at a low point when Father acknowledged him when he cracked his shoulders. He trembled from his knees, but it stilled into ice in his joints when Father's jaw opened. "... Little... Wolf..." It shifted the flow with his detached, stuck call.

Let's end this.

"Fenrer, no!" Yuven got up.

Just us.

"Stay out of it," he said, then pushed a glyph through the ground. Adara stumbled back when it swept through the grass, spinning with the force of the rising sun. Flames danced across the green trail he left when it followed the point of his sword with his spin to make sure none got in his way. It completed at the last twirl, and he slammed his sword in the ground to finish the barrier. Back into his low point, he huffed out his own plume of sunlit mist. Father lifted his boot from the edge, his attention fully on him as Adara and Yuven rushed to the arena of his own creation — his own foolishness and pride.

One way or another, Father... this is to the death.

Fenrer counted the moments and the auras drained out to leave the blazing sun.

He allowed his old tears to flow into his blood. Protection. Compassion. Energy. Father took one step forward, another. His boot crushed any underneath his heel, but Father led with kindness and understanding. He held an outstretched hand to a fearful young boy with a storming aura, and welcomed him to their home. Fenrer echoed his motion, and planted himself when Father broke into a rush for him.

"Little Wolf..."

Trust me, Kon.

I am not that little child anymore.

Father swung, mighty, strong, powerful.

I am not that little boy anymore.

Fenrer ducked when the wind came for him. One rune blazed to life when he pushed it through the air, using the momentum to push him and Father back from the singularity. It dripped through the air, and he collected the last remnants around him, to bring it to his heart, to stockpile it and wait for a perfect moment to strike, as he had taught him. Dull green glyphs broke apart the dirt, and he lunged back when sharp rocks dug out of the ground with the aim to his chest. Broken from the flow, but still magick. He drained it from the world, and breathed deep of a familiar aura.

Father...

Fenrer scowled when the shadow loomed, and he ducked around. Father twisted on his heel, and the butt of the warhammer almost slammed into his burning temple. His sword caught the tip, and he slammed both into the ground with his equal strength compared to a giant's. In the opportunity, he put distance between him and the Lord of Sungrove, who tugged his warhammer out of the grass and sent dirt flying for him. He raised his own glyph to bury it deep around him, redirecting it into another wall when Father lunged. It slammed into the width of the wall, tearing it to the last pebbles as Fenrer took the chance to gather the rippling energy in the air.

Fenrer rushed forward when Father took another step. Another rune dissipated on the fuller, but he drove himself into Father's chest to push him to the center of the arena. His blood screamed in the drumbeat of war as he slid to the side, using his smaller size and lighter load to avoid the slower attacks, but all Father needed was one good swing — and the fight would be over.

Dead magick tore the grass from the roots to trip him, and Father swung with his fist, a faster attack. Fenrer learned his lessons, and pushed his arm into his exposed elbow. It cracked, and Fenrer ignored the faltering of the dead. He swore Father's eyebrow raised, and the death rattle responded. Fenrer grunted when he used the shaft to toss him to the side.

"Fenrer!" Yuven called.

He tapped his sword against the ground, sending another wave of magick into the ground as he jumped to his feet and ignored his Oathbound's words. Every little shard of the flow shed itself from their duel, he wrapped himself in it, to redirect to a singular moment. It fanned the flames further in his blood, and Fenrer found a twisted smile crawling on his face in the wave of heat. A visage of Father rose the warhammer, complete, whole, an echoed, wild grin on his face.

A memory. A promise through his grief.

Duty propelled him forward. Sweat stuck to the back of his neck as he tried to match Father's oppressive strength with his own. Metal clanged. Arrows whizzed through the mist of dreams. He held his ground when Father made another rattling swing of faith, and Fenrer grabbed onto the shaft of the warhammer. It sent a shockwave through his arms, but he was no longer a little child. He held on tight when both of Father's hands grabbed it. It burned into his palms, and he continued to count his own heartbeat boiling in his ears when Father swung it, and him, around to the other side.

A tyrant stole his happiness — his childhood.

Fenrer grunted when a cracked glyph punched him and sent him reeling back. He hit the flaming barrier, and shook out his swirling head. Father swung along the flow, and Fenrer braced himself when waves of dead magick curled the grass and withered some stalks. Fenrer pushed off the barrier, pulling some flames with him as he jumped over one wave.

Father spun his hammer, and Fenrer ducked underneath the next one, his breathing starting to fail him.

A single moment.

He let the last swing of magick burst through him, and it set the other shards alight in his body. It pushed against his head and skin with the extra magick he carried. Out of one last swing, he forced a giant glyph into Father's chest, where it sharpened and screamed through his ribcage. He stumbled, the mist disappearing into the moonlight.

Father...

Fenrer halfsworded to parry his last swing, then dragged it across his palm, but never broke skin to draw blood. He thrust through the expelled magick, and the arena's flames drew through his arm. He bit down on his tongue when bone cracked, and faced his consequences. His sword pierced through Father's neck, but Fenrer whipped and pushed the heel of his palm against the blade, and tore it upwards with a screeching gasp to follow Father's death rattle.

Goodbye... walk over the bridge of Velteraiia... and rest.

Another hard crack of a broken neck.

Embers bit at the sinew.

Fenrer scowled, then drove himself forward to the end, tearing his sword through the rest of Father's neck. Sunlight bounced and sent the world and Father's shambling body to nothing but ashen embers of the setting sun to cast warmth along his shoulders. He brought himself back into low point to watch the curdling of the dead sent to their rest through force.

Adara and Yuven slumped to the ground in wide-eyed shock.

Fenrer breathed deep of his coursing, fiery blood as the grip of his sword slipped out of his grasp and landed in the grass. For there is only... victory in sacrifice.

The silver moon swallowed it all.

Fenrer slumped, but he caught himself in time when Yuven stood up and raced for him.

"What were you thinking?" Yuven gasped. "He could've killed you, and then what?" He threw his arms out, but misguided concern rippled through the icy maelstrom cooling off the superheated environment. "We should have never come here, Fenrer! You knew better than this!"

"And you knew better?" Fenrer drowned in the molten sunlight and stomped closer to Yuven.

"This could've all been avoided," Yuven snapped. "You could've gotten killed! That was foolish, and reckless!"

"And you're so much better." Fenrer stepped away from him, raising a hand before clenching it into a fist before the heat of the sun overtook him. "Forget it. It's gone. He's gone." It rippled through his tense muscles and he tried to fight through the rippling of the world. "I did exactly what you wanted. I killed him! Isn't that what you wanted?"

... I...

Yuven's eyes turned into beads.

Fenrer pushed his hand through the world, and stomped from them.

"Little Wolf..."

He shook his head at the comforting voice. "No," he whispered, small around giants.

He knew not where his legs took him until he stumbled through the forest, and collapsed at the bank of the creek. He choked on a sob as he drove his hand into the cold water. Knives swept through his skull, and drove into his heart as he dug his fingers into his scalp to tear out the pain.

"Little Wolf," Kon manifested from the mist.

"No..."

Kon came closer and loomed over him.

Fenrer cupped water in his palm to push it against his face, but it never released him from the salt of tears dripping down his cheeks. "Did I do this?" he rasped and dug his brow into the ground and fought off a pained laugh. "Sungrove... the Desecration, why would he make that promise?" Auras tore and stretched around him, and he longed to rip out his eyes of the blessed curse. His once steady breathing came out short and threatened to burst his lungs through his ribs.

"Oh, Little Wolf, no." Kon lowered himself. "You did not do this."

Another splash of water never released him from the tearing torment across his superheated skin. Fenrer whimpered and slumped to the ground. "I killed him, didn't I? I killed him a second time..." It drained the colour out of the world, and the darkness consumed the pieces of the trees.

"No, Fenrer." Kon's shape rippled through the flow of his tears. "Blood of my blood... you did him a mercy. His torment. His fear. It was stuck here as you are. You set him free, now... you must... set yourself free of this blame as you had told Adara. You must follow your own words, or they will crumble to dust."

"Kon, I..." The world drained into darkness at one last wave of pain bouncing from his temples.

It glimmered through a thin veil when Kon leaned closer, trying to nudge his face with his muzzle. Kon stopped, and sighed.

"You are wounded, Little Wolf. Let yourself rest."

"I..."

Fenrer fought, but fell into the darkness with the multitude of burning auras releasing them from their screams of agony.