Chapter 4
FENRER
Someday, Little Wolf, I'll take you to the top so you can stand on his shoulders and see the entire world bathed in light.
The Gulf of Sivaport filled the distance with the two massive statues on either of its endpoints, their hands outstretched to the rising sun. Magick rippled through the flow, a sign of the protective barrier which kept the immediate seabed safe from the apex Derelicts. Bile danced in his throat when he tucked himself deeper into his chair to escape the sight of failure and broken promises. Kolis and Pyren. Fenrer groaned at the harbor bells, trying to squash the nausea from his own throat. His curse burdened him with the rise of auras from the city itself, an amalgamation of colors to turn them into a rainbow of tar. Focus. He pressed his fingers into his temples to latch onto any other aura than the one ahead, instead of the constant, icy maelstrom which froze all the activity.
Deep within the storm, a distant, screeching call of power. Teeth birthed from the snowstorm, but he withdrew from its pointed hatred at the jerk of the anchor prepped out of its hold and the piers came closer when they dodged the rocks which dotted the gulf, with some carrying watermills. He found his strength to stand when the swaying slowed down. His hand pressed against the thick, wood hull of the ship. Light and dark battled in his view when he fought the shakes in his knees as footsteps bustled to and fro outside.
Focus.
The dawnblade slipped into his hands when he stole it from its corner along with the crescent blade of his shattered faith and broken promises. He hooked up both to his belt and armor, pushing himself past the door he closed on everything he believed in. Onto the steps when the crew threw the anchor overboard with its rattled chain of golden-sewn stars, the boat slipped beside the pier while some Wardens jumped off early to assist in guiding them into a full stop, away from the call of the sea. Foam licked at the hull when he dared to look into the abyss below. Thick forests of seaweed tangled into each other, tendrils of intent with jagged teeth, scattered by eroded rocks and hidden networks.
"Fen." Silver lilies grazed against his cheek, and he found himself drawn into her hand when she pressed her palm against his brow. Adara frowned at him, then grabbed onto his shoulder to guide him down the gangplank when he found his knees unable to move when Yuven tread past with only a sideways glance at him while others unloaded boxes onto the harbor. Prickles swept down his forearm, behind the smeared band. On the pier, he held onto Adara, who dragged him off the swaying of the world and into the tide of aura.
Inescapable color.
"Get these supplies to the Lodge! I want the reports of the attack on Azahama given to them," Yuven barked out in his ear. A superheated comfort, tearing his eardrums to pieces when his Oathbound swept his violet-eyed gaze to him, his pupils formed into beads of stress.
Music played over the harbor from the nearby tavern, crying out in an echo when Yuven adjusted his belt and stomped off with a couple of Wardens trailing behind him. His icy maelstrom disappeared into the tar of a prison, and Fenrer clung onto Adara to keep himself standing against the current. A larger wave lapped against the protective stones which lined the docks, and he shivered away from the allure. Auras slipped deeper. Voices shifted into meaningless noise. Torn asunder by silver and molten gold, he jolted when he found himself face to face with Maria, and a phial of thick liquid shoved into his hands. It fumbled in his fingers, but he downed through the poisonous flow against his brain.
"Get him to the Lodge, Adara. Ancients." Maria beckoned to other Wardens, taking a large box for herself with a ripple of magick through her limbs. He found his fingers tangling through the lilies when Adara raised her hands to his face. "I'll have actual remedies for his seasickness if it hasn't quelled by the time you get there. Get going, you." Maria's hand smacked into his back, and he stumbled forward into the tight, winding, cobbled streets of Sivaport. The lighthouse's shadow towered above the stacked houses, where laundry lines hung between alleys while neighbors spoke through the windows. Shouts. Cheers. Hollers. Screams.
Fenrer let Adara guide the way to the city square where the Warden lodge sat on its own stone pedestal, gleaming with the layer of drizzle from the stormheads. "I need to talk to King Reyn," he found his voice when they crawled up the steps, with Adara using her back to open the door and pull him into the sense of quiet save for the reinforcements and weary Wardens they left behind with their failed escape to Euros. Yuven stood underneath the skylight, the faint mist from the sea scattering light across the blizzard's core. "I had meant to discuss the letter he sent."
"I'm sure His Esteemed Royal Chair-warmer can wait for you to compose yourself." Yuven's feathers fluffed out when he swiped a clipboard from one of the Wardens who came out of the Lodge's internal annex and library to write the supplies down in the margins, throwing it back into the chest of another.
"Yuven," Adara hissed.
It's not worth it... I failed. Fenrer slid his mouth into his palm. Globs of thick bile rose into the back of his throat.
"What?" Yuven bit back, feathers on end.
Mist swirled with his Oathbound's aura, driving its claws into his chest when he lowered his hand from Adara's back, stumbling away from her. Her hand cupped his elbow, but he found himself going down onto the ground with the thick globs of brine, saltwater, and the cruel, tearing touch of acidic bile. One Warden sped forward with a bucket to catch the dribbles of the sea stuck to his lungs and phlegm. His hand waved off to the side, catching someone's shirt when they pushed an ice cold hand into his brow. Auras squeezed through the drains along the floor to catch excess rainwater. Water crashed against a beachfront. Someone screamed out to the dawn and set his blood on fire. Another hand tucked underneath his arm to try and pull him up to his feet, but a sharp hiss resounded through the numbness sweeping through his head. Auras without features twisted around with expressions of discomforted, empathetic disgust at what filled the bucket. He pushed his knees up, but found himself pushed onto his hindquarters instead by the same cold hand.
"About as mentally capable as a drunkard right now..." Yuven growled underneath a corrupted wyvern, but Fenrer tried to slap the thought out of his head and away from his view. One fist pushed into feathers, causing Yuven to dodge out of it with another, silent bark at the gathered Wardens, both curious, disquieted, and nervous as they drew away from him with their mix of auras. Full of emotions. Of life. "Adara, get him onto his knees again—"
Lowered to the bucket again, he shook his head. "I'm done..."
It fell quiet within the grand foyer of the Lodge.
"Kah'mai. Get him out of here. Honestly." Yuven released a plume of mist from his nose, and Fenrer pushed down more globs when Yuven let him go, hands raised and stomped away from him with a chitter of Navei when Maria rushed through the doors, past Yuven with a bag close at hand while his Oathbound stomped up to the gathered group and waved them off back to their duties, with him, useless and powerless.
"Adara, can you reach his auric blinder?" Maria instructed when Fenrer found his face in the other Hanekan's hands instead while Adara patted down his belt to unwrap the magically woven fabric which blocked out a beautiful world of color. "Easy, Fenrer," her Hanekan came out its own wave with the slightest touch of something sharp. "There's a clip, Adara. Just get it over his eyes." Fenrer wriggled when the flow disappeared to his extra sense, tightened against the bridge of his nose when Adara clipped it with a brush of his hair. It tickled at his skin, and he held himself still when Maria adjusted it. "Okay, let's get you to a quiet place. Adara?"
"I got him."
Onto his feet with warm arms tucked around his chest, he steadied himself against the tile and tried to grasp his environment and colorless surroundings. Lost without the lilies. Stumbling forward without the sun. He twisted his head around to Yuven Traye, who lifted the piercing violets to him. His feathers fluffed out by the barbs, and Yuven rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned his back on him. A knuckle nudged him in the back, and he followed Maria with Adara as his crutch when they went into the barracks, split into several private rooms before going into the main bed area. Maria sent a whisk of power into the runelock, shooing them inside.
"What happened?" Adara asked, her chin on his shoulder.
"Overstimulation of aura doubled with seasickness. Lie down, you." Maria poked him in the ribs.
Fenrer obeyed, unable to do anything else when he pulled one leg at a time into the bed. The mattress sunk underneath him, but he breathed the fresh air seeping through the cracked open window. Sivaport bloomed across the crags and cliffs the ocean created. Adara leaned over him, eyes wide and distressed. Heatwaves flowed around her, though Maria came and added thickness to the fire when she slipped a spoon past his lips, the liquid tasteless against his tongue. "That should dull his senses... albeit that does mean all of them." Maria put her bag on the endstand to sort through it. "You are going to spend the next five bells sleeping undisturbed, another hour wearing that cover, then you should be good to go." She went over to the curtains, pulling them to block out the wind, though Fenrer listened to the endless call of the sea and the gulls.
"Sorry..."
Maria scoffed with a shake of her head. "Fenrer, I'm a chirurgeon, I've seen worse than vomit. Better out than in. We'll get you a change of clothes after your five bell nap. It's more important you get the rest first." Blanket thrown over him, he shivered when Adara pressed her fingers into his temples. "Stay with him for a couple minutes until he's asleep."
Adara's voice came out clear, "Of course."
Until it too, turned into a distant dream.
In the darkness, his lungs refused to expand. Candlelight flickered in a saturated room of cold, pale stones. Airstones hummed on either side of his head and gave him the ability to breathe again. I want to believe... I want to have faith. It burned in his chest and bubbled the phlegm of pneumonia. Frost carved layers of insulation to the buried brick. Faceless shapes moved about, speaking garbled languages, but he bit on his tongue when another approached, following a starlit stand through the thick pus of pitch.
Yuven stood over him, feathers lowered in shame and humility, a blur against the blizzard. A mirage. This is... Isn't this the alchemist's house in that Naveeran town? He looked around. But... no, I must be dreaming. We came to Sivaport. He tried to test his body, but pinpricks swept through his skin when he tried to move, locked down against his bed. Don't hate me. Tears swept down his eyes. I didn't ask for this... I just wanted to help you. I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time, that you had to endure that torture... He dug his fingers deep into the blankets. I'll make sure he suffers the consequences. His breath caught in his throat. I'm sorry I let go.
Yuven curled his fingers together, brow furrowed. "Look at what I've done, Molvisaliz," he said when he stepped through the crimson mire. "We cannot keep moving. You must rest. We have no choice. If you move..."
You'll die.
Fenrer squinted at him though the words mixed through his ears. "I need to get you home."
He flinched at a snap of light, and Yuven squeezed his hands against his cheeks with his fangs bared in concern. "Wake up, Fenrer Pyren," he hissed through the stars, and Fenrer flinched from the bright light searing into his eyes when he looked down at their reflections.
"I am awake."
Embers fell down his shoulders.
His heart split by strands of sinew when Yuven laid dead in a pool of splattered, magick reds beside him. Blood, tainted with Corruption, slipped past his lips where he failed to pry out the core from his body. Gray feathers scattered around him with lost vibrancy. I'm dreaming. He repeated the mantra. I'm dreaming. Don't be stupid. Wake up. He drove his fingers into his eyes. Serrated crystals made him bleed at the tips when magick screeched with his soundless voice.
"Fenrer!"
Fenrer lurched up straight into a cold blast of air. Yuven, again, the Oathbound he abandoned, who looked upon him with venom and hate. Violet beads formed in his eyes when he examined him with reptilian precision. Fenrer pushed his fingers into the mirage's forearms, to keep the shard close though it made him bleed. Gulls cawed. Fenrer shivered at the return of sound.
It wasn't a ghost.
Yuven Traye squeezed his face tighter, feathers fluffed out in dismay when he let him go.
"I need to take you home," Fenrer bleated. I can't fail you again.
Yuven released a hiss and let him go, dropping him back into the bed. "You need an extra five bells. I can't talk to you like this." Back turned again, he escaped into a flutter of twilight distortion, the door closed.
Walls higher than mountains, with the peaks pushing against the twine between stars to crack the sinew and splash the night sky with a beautiful, sprinkled aurora. He closed his eyes again, and stopped dreaming.
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