FENRER

"Little Wolf, what have you done?"

The only thing I could've done to make all of this matter! He slipped down the steps, grabbed onto his crescent blade with a simple movement of hooking it onto his belt, and grabbed a bag of rations. Out of the treehouse in a rush and away from Adara, from Yuven, from Maria and Neven. Anything else he'd have to grab on the road. I know the Keepers of Pyon's headquarters are in the capital of Elvkana. Blackwall can't have gotten too far. He's going to give me answers to what's happening to me. Darkness molded around buildings, the speed of his pace making them sharp and malicious. Boots against the muck, he hurried himself for the north gate, the main road which connected Asairai to the other towns. As he came close, head low, he froze at a confused, "Warden Pyren?"

One of the weary Wardens slipped down from the guard tower to approach him. Shoulders tense, morale destroyed, he held his breath when they squinted at him. "Captain Traye's ordered a full lockdown," they pointed out. "No one is to enter or leave without his express-er-written permission."

"A complication arose," Fenrer offered, twitching with intent — the hunger rising. Knowledge drawn on a thin line. Always that thin line. His attention drew over his shoulder when the lights of the treehouse flashed, his time ticking forward for his chance to make a substantial change when faith had long since failed him. He looked back at the Warden, who folded their arms with no such rush in their tired aura. "It's important. You need to let me through."

"Captain Traye made his orders very clear."

He's making the wrong ones! Fenrer wanted to scream. It tick, tick, ticked in his mind, the crimson eye fluttering, a yawn in the void. It knew. It knew what he wanted — what he sought, and what would be found in the hands of Keeper Blackwall. "Then, I'm sorry." Enough lines had been drawn, so he scuffed the next and pushed his aura through theirs. No words left their throat when the tangles latched on tighter. His eyes through theirs. He wandered off to the side to guide them back into the Guard tower, fighting against the digging claws in his heart when he let them float away, slumping into a chair before diving through the gate.

As he broke into a quick run, following signposts, he grunted when a flimsy mist oozed out of him, only to bounce off his back and send him careening into the dirt. Its strength waned enough for him to get back on his legs and face the wolf, the man made into myth. "You are making a mistake, Little Wolf. Do not do this," his voice echoed through history, distant. Concern and hasty desire battled it out for the shift in his Aeoniir's solidity.

"You don't understand." Fenrer walked around Kon. "This isn't your world anymore and I don't want a repeat of what happened back then."

"You were not there." Kon kept pace. "You were not there for the Great Crimson Dusk. You have gotten a taste of what we experienced on the daily. You have people who need you, who will be there for you and help you. Do not push them away now at your most vulnerable." He got in his way once more, a dark shape in the shadows of the trees. "Do not presume to think you know of it. I have rested for eons. I know the path you are about to walk, I bid you, Fenrer Pyren. Do not walk it. I cannot help you if you do." Tone harsh, but pleading, Kon shifted on his haunches. "You can still step off it. If you go any deeper, there is no going back."

"There was no going back the moment I put her to sleep!" Fenrer snapped, and Kon took a small pawstep back. "No going back the moment Kemal—" A single name, left on his tongue. "There was no going back from this, Kon. I need to know what's happening to me and no one here understands." He dug his fingers into his shirt, the desire to tear out his own heart growing, but not more so than the desire to drive a wedge into his burning eyes. "I can accept that. Just because you couldn't back then doesn't mean I'm the same as you." He walked through Kon. Into darkness, he tossed a magelight above his head, a hand close to his crescent blade. "There was no going back the moment I let Yuven go on those cliffs." Teeth driven into his lips, he repeated the sin of his faith. "... no going back when Yuv threatened a king." A sob left his lips at the terrible domino he played a part in. Tears cracked across his face. "I could've said something. I didn't. I could've done something. Anything! I didn't." All the strength in his arms oozed out of him as he continued his wandering on the road. It took what felt like bells until lights bounced through the trees.

Another village, this one less protected than the one he left.

Kon's voice had been silenced even if he felt the wolf's presence.

There was no going back from this the moment I looked Adara in the eyes and— Throat lodged with pain, he kept his traveling cloak tight around himself and tried to keep his breathing even when his gaze darted across the carriages. Auras danced, sang, and expanded, the dawnblade heating up on his back after swiping it from right underneath Yuven's nose. His fingers snapped together when he rushed along, searching for the distinct aura of tar Blackwall extruded. Each one burned in his temples, his teeth dug into his tongue when he squinted through the confusion, the pain, the ignorance.

"Somehow, I figured you'd be catching up to me." The cool voice sent his hand straight for his crescent blade, but Blackwall stood by the lamp, hand raised. "There's no need for that, Warden Pyren." His gaze flicked to either side of Fenrer. "I'm surprised you came alone."

"You're going to explain what's happening to me, and undo it," he said with a smile, approaching him. "You know a lot more than you let on, Keeper Blackwall. I'm not going to be fooled three times," he said, raising his fingers in show when he used his larger stature to push the man out of the street, with Blackwall taking a few steps back. "I'm only entertaining this because someone has to — or else people will die. It is my duty to protect the light, no matter what it costs." He let the tension escape through his nose when Blackwall studied him. "So, go on. Explain. Explain what you're doing here. Explain why you were on the same track as Kemal and Neven."

"I once told you the Wardens and the Keepers wish for the same thing," Blackwall said with another step into darkness, and Fenrer followed along the tracks. "That hasn't changed. We can help each-other. Sadly though, I can't undo what's already been done to you." His smile curled up his lips. "It's only a matter of time before it overwhelms you." He took in a deep, idle breath. "I was searching for the roots of the cult, where they were, how far they spread. I'm sure you've realised by now that those mines weren't the root, yes?" His head angled forward, curious, dangerous. "It goes deeper than that. You've experienced it. Think, Pyren. I know you're smarter than that."

"We know they were shedding king's blood."

"Well-spotted," Blackwall said.

"Do you know that the King and Princess of Naveera are dead?"

Blackwall gazed at him. "That's a shame," he said with a frown. "Now they have all they need, don't they?" Fenrer kept a grip tight on his crescent blade, then gave a small shake of his head, which caused Blackwall to hum in response. "Oh? Do they not? What did you learn, Fenrer?" He motioned for Fenrer to follow further, behind the buildings, into the alleys. "You were the one in their clutches, I daresay, you might know more than me."

"They're missing something," Fenrer whispered.

"Oh? Do you know what that is?"

It burned against the ridges of his eyes, and he gave another small, childish shake of the head. "No, they just said they wanted me to see."

"And see you did," Blackwall said with a point to his own eyes. "It had to have been some ancient Obscura Text to cause such. Truly, a testament of your power, Fenrer, that you still retain your mind. Yuven Traye is many things, but rarely is the man wrong on matters of power. Too bad he couldn't see his own when it came to his homeland — what people would do thinking it would make them free, but they can't see it. No one but us," he offered. "Do you know why Keepers are able to read Obscura Texts without much effect?"

"Trained?"

Blackwall rolled his neck with another flash of a smile. "Something like that," he said, rubbing a finger against the visage of Pyvansomiir around his wrist. "We've inherited a world from the ashes of a dead one. We don't know what will rise out of it. But I will tell you this," Blackwall said. "I know you thought I wanted Adara, and her magick, for my own agenda. But I have been nothing but honest." Fenrer approached him again at the mention of her, but Blackwall held himself strong. "They don't know you're here, do they?"

"They're going to find out, so let's not waste time."

Blackwall bowed. "The cult can have all the king's blood in the world but it requires a spark," he explained. "A spark that can be found in Anima magick, and that is why I'm here." He raised his hand when Fenrer opened his mouth. "I have no interest in hurting Adara. No, the cult's set their sights a little higher than that. Did you ever wonder why they went through all that effort to corrupt Yuven Traye? Did you even ask?"

"I wasn't going to rip through the memories of my own Oathbound."

"Then I have done it for you," Blackwall said. "They wanted to awaken Evyriaz. Mull that over. We've got a bit of a trip."

"Where are we going?"

"The capital city to the headquarters of my order," Blackwall said. "Well, we need to make a short stop, first."

He whisked around the building without a second glance back, but before Fenrer could follow, a firm grip grabbed onto his shoulder. It sent shockwaves through his arm, the memory of Father stopping him from going out into the flames of war. Until it turned into the jaws of a direwolf around his forearm, the grip gentle, but firm when Kon raised his misty eyes up at him. "I have to," he hissed, pulling his forearm out of Kon's grip.

"I am not going to stop you," Kon said. "If you are so deadset on this path... I can do naught but bear witness."

"Then what is it?"

Kon stared after Blackwall, ears perked forward. Fenrer followed his gaze, though Blackwall faltered in the street to speak in low voices to another cloaked figure, who hopped onto a carriage and rode away. "Kon, what is it?" he asked. "I'm tired of people not being straight forward with me, so what is it?"

Kon's tail stilled. "That one," he mumbled. "His eyes."

"What about them?"

"What colour are they to you, Little Wolf?"

Fenrer furrowed his brow when Blackwall turned into one of the bookstores and left him outside, all alone save for his mythical ancestor who had torn skies asunder. He scoffed at the thought, but his own throat failed him at Yuven's haunted look when he himself dismissed such claims. "Very dark brown? Almost black? Why?"

A sharp puff of air left Kon's muzzle. "I do not know, Little Wolf," he whispered. "His eyes are... different for me."

"Explain?"

"See all but say nothing," Kon said with a twitch of the muzzle, a flattening of the ears.

"What?" Doubt crept into his shoulders, but he willed his feet to stay in place.

"Those are the words I think of when I see that one," Kon said. "...I know not from where I heard these words, though." Mist scattered across his body, and the wolf disappeared, leaving him alone in the darkness. Dirt crunched underneath his heel when he stopped outside the shop, his head burning.

Blackwall stepped out with a book tucked into his cloak. "I am ready now, Pyren."

Fenrer dug through the tarry aura, to the center though it was never-ending. Blackwall gazed at him without the fear of others. "Come," Blackwall crooned, and Fenrer jolted out of his own staredown and searched for the words Kon revealed. "We shall not let the sacrifices that have taken place go to waste."