Wolf's Pages - Chapter 2

[TWolfWD]

The stories found here follow the timeline of Lady_Malice's "Story of the Den", covering Wolf's own adventures.

Table of Contents
The World is Not so Safe
Of Snow and Life

[TWolfWD]

The World is Not so Safe

 The young Wolf closed the tome and pushed it aside, setting it among the other volumes which had failed to produce any results. The collection of relevant scriptures grew ever smaller, and Wolf was finding himself no closer to the secrets of enchantments.

 “Still no luck, lad?”

 Wolf turned to the voice and was greeted by Sigurther, a smile on his face and mud on his boots, no doubt back from drills. He cradled an old tome under his arm.

 Wolf’s frown relaxed, and his posture grew a little less tense. “No, I haven’t found a thing,” he sighed. “There’s nothing in these books I can use. Hints here, mentions there, but nothing more than vague inklings.” Wolf’s eyes drifted to the book. “Has the Master of Arms given up on his men and decided to turn to the musings of a poet?”

 “If only poetry could protect the people of this nation, I’d change professions in a heartbeat.” Sigurther chuckled and gently placed his hand on the lad’s shoulder. “You mustn’t stress yourself. One must dig through mountains of stone before he can reveal the diamonds within. This book, I think, may help you get through that troublesome bedrock.”

 Sigurther placed the tome upon the table, kicking flumes of dust into the air. “I was looking for some of the more ancient tactic books in one of the less used sections of the library, when I stumbled upon this.” Sigurther carefully opened the fragile pages and presented a passage for Wolf’s viewing.

 Wolf’s eye’s shot across the pages, taking in information at a staggering rate. His face began to glow as he found what he had so long sought.

 “Sigurther, You’re brilliant!” Wolf leapt out of his chair and wrapped his arms around the aging man.

 “Easy there, Wolf,” he said laughing. “These bones aren’t as stout as they use to be.”

 Wolf returned to the tome and continued reading, whispering to himself. “... through the Gate which the Lion keeps. Sigurther, do you know where that is?”

 Sigurther saw the answer in the glow of the boy’s eyes. “My best guess is that it refers to your sister’s chambers,” he said with a smile. “From the looks of it, you have a much better idea.”

 “I do. As a lad I would explore as far as a half day’s ride could take me.”

 “You’re a lad, yet.”

 Wolf rolled his eyes.

 Sigurther turned to Wolf, suddenly serious in his expression. “I need you to promise me something, Wolf. Promise me you won’t go without an escort.”

 Wolf began to object, but was cut off by Sigurther. “I mean it Wolf. The world is not as safe as it once was, and you know it.” Then Sigurther let slip a smile. “And Lady would snap my sword arm if I let you go out alone.”

 Wolf smiled. “That she would. Fine, Sigurther. I promise not to go without an escort.”

 Sigurther patted the boy’s head, content with the promise. “Very good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my men. I bid you good luck, Wolf.”

 “Thank you, Sigurther.”

 Wolf pulled the cloth away, exposing the blade in his hand. He held the blade up before him, barely able to handle it with both hands. The hilt was a hand-and-a-half, meant for One handed use, but providing for a second when the situation required it. This worked well for Wolf, who was still not of a man’s strength, and needed both hands to swing the sword properly.

 The blade was simple in design, having been forged during a time of necessity long ago, passed down through generations of the Royal Family. The only distinguishing feature of it was the pommel. As the sword was passed down, each owner was forged a new pommel, representing them and identifying the sword as theirs. These often came in the profile of a beast, representative of the owner’s spirit. His father had been the bear, and his grandfather the eagle. Wolf’s Pommel was the creature of his name sake, the wolf, a fierce figure with a black, gemmed eye.

 Wolf sheathed the sword behind his back, it being too long to sit at his belt, and made for the door. The halls of the castle were unusually quiet, Lady having taken much of the Royal Guard to run skirmishes to the north. Those present were too busy to question the young boy with the sword, having to pick up the slack for the missing personnel. He ducked out through the servant’s entrance of the keep and made way for the stables.

 There he found Fangs, hard at work tending to the animals, focused and unaware of Wolf’s approach. A pebble found its way into Wolf’s hand, where it was quickly transferred into the air. After a quick flight, it found its landing against Fangs backside.

 A curse took the air, and a disgruntled Fangs turned to a laughing Wolf.

 “Can’t you find other ways to grab my attention?”

 “I sure could, but they’d be less fun.” Wolf skipped over to Fangs and patted him on the back. “You’ll get over it. Come on, I need your help.”

 “What for?”

 “I’ve got a lead I need to investigate, and Sigurther made me promise not to go without an escort.”

 “And he mentioned me specifically?”

 “He didn’t mention anyone specifically, so I picked you.”

 Knowing Sigurther had meant an escort of the Royal Guard, Fangs put on a sly smile. “Give me a moment, I’ll grab my sling.”

 With a sling at his side, and a pouch full of apples, Fangs fetched a pair of horses for the boys to ride, and the two were off.

 The sun was warming the western horizon as the pair reached the edge of the gully. There, on the opposite bank of the stream below was the stone archway which Wolf sought, guarded by the lone Statue of a Lion at the edge of the stream, ever watchful. Its jaws shown ajar, with canines the length of wolf’s hand protruding out, as though searching for a neck to sink into.

 “Do you know what’s inside,” Fangs asked, uneasy as the Lion’s glare pierced through him.

 “No. I’ve been to this spot many times, but I’ve never dared go inside.”

 Neither boy rushed to dismount, instead weighing the decision to enter the menacing mouth of stone.

 “We have to go in there,” Wolf finally concluded to his friend, raising his head in an attempt to feel more mature. “We can’t let childish fears turn us away from something that could save thousands of lives.”

 Fangs took a deep breath and turned to Wolf, meeting his gaze and sharing a sense of trust. “I have your back.”

 The boy’s dismounted and tied their mounts, proceeding down the steep slope to the pebbled bed below. The water was shallow as the summer drought worked away at the stream, and the crossing easy. Both felt uneasy as they passed the lion, it cutting between them, warning them to turn back.

 They continued, pausing at the mouth of the cave.

 “Are you ready,” Wolf asked his friend.

 Fangs took another deep breath, then had a thought. “What good’s my sling without some good stones?” The boy reached down and picked a handful of well rounded, weighted stones, and placed them into his pockets. “There, now I’m ready.”

 Wolf understood the comfort Fangs felt, despite the little use the sling could provide within close quarters, and decided that he too wanted to feel this comfort. The blade rung out as it left its scabbard, and Wolf inspected it point to pommel as he held it at arm’s length. It felt as though it belonged in his hands, in the same way that Wolf felt at home in the castle library.

 “Let us venture into the void.”

 The air was heavy and musky, and the torch light dim. The boys had been fortunate, and there were few branches from the main channel, none of which showed any signs of interest. Life in the cave was reserved mostly for moss and fungi, there being no signs of anything larger than a centipede. Well into the night it continued like this, not even a sign that the caves had ever been inhabited.

 “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Fangs question echoed through the chambers, returning from every direction and reverberating longer than they thought possible.

 “It has to be,” Wolf reassured, “I’ve been all over the countryside, and never have I seen something more,” Wolf thought hard for the correct word, “foreboding, than that lion. It must be guarding something important.

 A sound reached their ears that had not been noticed the moment before. A wavering sound, faint and distant.

 “What do you suppose that is?”

 “I don’t know,” Wolf responded, “but it’s the first sign we’ve had in hours. Come on.”

 The boys travelled deeper into the caves, expecting the source of the sound around every curve, only to find that it remained still deeper.

 Fangs paused for a moment. “Do you feel that?”

 Wolf turned and held still for a moment. “A breeze. We must be getting close.”

 Only after the two were sure that they’d never find their way out did they stumble upon a stone frame, a tattered cloth hung within and flapping in the growing breeze.

 “What do suppose this is?” Fangs asked, his curiosity suddenly peaked. “This is too deep into the cave to serve any purpose.”

 Wolf slowly approached the entrance, blade firmly in his hands. “The tome spoke of a wizard who once dwelled in these lands. He had many homes and none, it said. I think this is one of those places.”

 Wolf used his sword to draw the cloth aside and was greeted with a great gust of wind, sending chills down the boy’s spines and extinguishing the torch. After regaining their composure, the two pushed forward and entered the chamber.

 Despite the sudden depletion of their light source, a faint blue glow illuminated the chamber. Shelves lined every inch of the walls, filled with tomes of unknown age and content. Wolf could only imagine what knowledge this room held, but it was the lectern at the center of the room which grabbed his attention.

 A single tome rested upon its surface from which the light in the room seemed to be emitting from it, escaping from between the pages themselves. Wolf approached the book and run his fingers along it’s spine, a leather binding with gold plates at each corner. He picked the corner of the cover and opened the tome.

 Light shot into the room as the pages came to life. They were filled with runes Wolf had never seen before, who’s letters shown with cold fury. The boys gasped in amazement, having never witnessed such magic before.

 “We’ve found it.”

 There was a creaking noise back through the hall which they had come. Wolf shot around, unable to see into the penetrating black beyond the entranceway. There was a hiss past his ear and he ducked down.

 “An arrow,” Fangs shouted. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

 Wolf spotted a second exit to the room and ran toward it. “This way, come on!”

 The book illuminated the way as the passage lead up at a steady pace. They could hear the rattling march behind them, growing ever closer, and they feared that they’d be overrun by their unseen assailant. Fangs loaded a pebble into his sling, and with a twirl, shot it back down the passage, unable to see his target. There was a sound as the stone struck, like a wooden bowl striking a hard surface, followed by a rattle like a bundle of arrows being dropped. Fangs took pride in what he hoped was a small victory.

 Without warning they were met by the morning light at the end of the tunnel. Time had passed more quickly then they realized below the earth’s surface, and they realized they were exhausted. They exited out onto a field lined by trees, on the edge of a small cliff which the cave had opened out from.

 They put a hundred yards between them and the opening before stopping for a rest, out of breath and unsure of their pursuer. Fangs reloaded his sling and swung it gently over his head, while Wolf brought up his blade, ready to defend. There was a long tension while they watched the mouth of the cave, unwilling to turn their backs to it.

 An arrow soared across the field, missing Fangs as he slid out of the way. Behind it emerged their assailants. Flesh had long left these creatures, who’s eyes were black, save their crimson pupils. The reanimated corpse sprinted across the field, firing wildly from their bows, Wolf and Fangs narrowly dodging them. Fangs let fly another stone, striking true and shattering the lead creature’s face. The stone became lodged, and the monster clawed away in attempt to dislodge the stone.

 Wolf knew that the arrows would be harder to avoid as his enemy grew closer, and decided the only way to stay alive was to take the fight to them. With a battle cry his lungs were far too small to support, he charged at the monsters.

 He closed the gap faster than he expected, and his sword swung wide, missing his target and striking at dirt. He fought to keep his balance as his momentum threw him over his sword. With great struggle, he pulled the point out of the soil, and swung again. The creature jumped back a step as the tip narrowly missed its ribs, the blade pulling at Wolf and he fought to keep his footing. Wolf was sure that if that skull had lips it’d be laughing at him.

 The skeleton put wolf on the defensive, grabbing at him with its claws. He parried best he could, but his muscles began to burn as they fought to keep the blade between Wolf and the skeleton. Wolf grew ever more fearsome that his swings would soon miss.

 A stone struck the skeleton in its arm, dislodging it and throwing the bow to the ground. Wolf silently thanked Fangs for the opening and thrust his blade deep into the monster’s ribs.

 The blade missed the spine, and wolf now found himself face to face with that fleshless creature. Claws grasped at his throat, puncturing his skin. The skeleton’s jaws flew open, as though to scream. But the only voice Wolf heard was that of Fangs, crying out to Wolf.

 A fear shot through Wolf that he’d never known before. Before today, these beasts had been only ideas within his head. Now his life was literally within its hands. He struggled for air and found none, his eyes locked with that of the skeleton.

 With more strength than he knew he had, he turned his blade and pulled, leveraging it through the creature’s spine and severing it at the neckline. The skeleton collapsed, and Wolf suddenly found that its strength had been holding him up as he collapsed.

 Fangs was over him in a heartbeat, sling over his head threatening a half dozen skeletons. “Don’t worry Wolf, I’ve got you.”

 Vision began to fade from Wolf as he fought to regain his breath.

 In the distance came the sounds of hooves. He forced his eyes open and through the tree lines emerged a line of cavalry. At the Lead, his sister, crimson hair flying in the wind, and a hellish rage in her face.

 The skeletons turned to flee, but their end was swift, trampled down without mercy by the great warhorses of the royal guard. With Fangs help and a lungful of air, Wolf managed to regain his feet. Lady was quickly off her horse and at Wolf’s side. He had never been so happy to see his sister.

 “You idiot!” She yelled, the anger in her voice like a slap across the face. “What would I do if I were to lose you.”

 Wolf was ready to argue until he looked at her face. Tears ran from her eyes and her lips swelled up. His eyes met hers for a moment, the energy in her diamond blue iris cutting through him, and he understood.

 “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly ashamed of himself.

 She spoke no words, but instead turned back to her horse and mounted. Without commands, her men fell into formation and they began to ride back towards the city. A single rider remained, with two horses in tow. It was Sir White, and the horses that the boys had tied up at the cave’s entrance.

 “She will forgive you, my lord,” he said, “You know that.”

 Wolf nodded, but found it difficult to look up and meet his gaze.

 “We thought you dead, you know, as we broke the tree line. Do you understand how that must have made her feel?”

 “I know, Sir White. I’m not proud of myself.”

 Sir White felt sorry for the young lad. He had suffered just as she had when their parents died, and today he had tasted his first true fear. “What, might I ask, brought you out into the country?”

 Wolf had forgotten all about the book, and was suddenly perked up as some of the earlier excitement returned. He reached into his pack and presented Sir White with the tome, whose energy continued to emanate even now.

 “A miraculous find, young Wolf. You will make this kingdom proud yet. Come boys, mount your horses. I think you deserve a long rest.”

 The two boys did as they were told and returned to the city, with little want to venture out again soon.

Return to Table of Contents

[TWolfWD]

Of Snow and Life

 Flurries of snow descended on the castle, remnants of previous night’s storm which had left the city covered in a deep blanket of powder. Snow this deep was rare in Lucern, and even Wolf found himself drawn outside, unable to focus on his studies. It was only a bonus that he would have a chance to test against his research.

 “I’d think you’ve never seen snow before with how excited you look right now.” A young man, a bit taller than Wolf and dressed in refined winter clothes, had entered the courtyard to find Wolf hard at work on his snowman, just lifting the large second tier upon the base.

 “Hey Blue,” Wolf greeted his cousin without turning, focused on his work. “It’s true we don’t get as much snow as you do in Nordall. However, it’s not the snow, but the experiment that has me riled up.”

 Blue raised his brow at the younger Wolf. “Oh?”

 Wolf secured the ball of snow in its place and stepped back to examine it. Satisfied, he skipped over to a nearby bench and grabbed the tome which rested atop it. He brought it over to the prince, shoving it into Blue’s hands without a word and returned to his work, adding limbs to the body.

 Blue examined the book, flipping through a few pages without understanding any of its symbols. “Planning on teaching your snowman to read, then?”

 Wolf laughed. “Snowmen aren’t smart enough for that.” He returned to the bench and produced a pumpkin from his supplies, already carved in the traditional style, though lacking the craftsmanship one would find around the castle during festival time. Wolf had carved this one himself.

 He placed the pumpkin on top of the snow body and stepped back to admire his work.

 “He looks,” Blue paused, searching for the right word, “special.”

 “I wasn’t trying to make a masterpiece,” Wolf responded in his snowman’s defense. “He just needed some basic features. Now hand me the tome.”

 “What are you going to do?” Blue asked as he handed the book to Wolf.

 Wolf ignored the question and opened the book to a familiar page he had marked the night before. He began to incant the words on the page, fumbling with the odd language but getting the general gist. Azure light began to emanate from the previously dormant tome, and wisps of energy flowed from Wolf into the snowman.

 The branched arms began to twitch, then bend in ways unnatural for the stiff wood. The light shot forth, absorbing into the snowman, and for a moment it was quiet.

 The pumpkin turned to the left, then to the right, and the arms came to a rest at the snowman’s sides.

 “Your snowman is moving,” Blue said, his mouth ajar.

 Wolf began to hop in joy, letting the tome fall to the ground without a thought. “It worked, it worked!”

 The Golem lurched forward as though to walk, but lost its balance and fell, planting it’s face into the snow below. Blue immediately erupted into laughter, garnering a disappointed look from Wolf who ceased his hopping.

 “I think you may need to spend more time on carving the face next time,” Blue said within his laughs.

 “His face is fine! It’s a toddler that’s all.” But Wolf knew that magic didn’t work that way. The Golem was born to the same state it would always be, save for any additional magic applied to enhance it. “I probably messed up a few of the words, which reduced the potency of the spell. This is pretty awesome for a first attempt.”

 The sticks of the Golem’s arms flexed unnaturally as the Golem lifted itself off the ground to stand itself back up. An imprint of its face remained in the snow, inciting another laugh from Blue.

 The golem seemed unfazed by the fall and began roaming the courtyard, staying within a short radius of the two as it wandered mindlessly.

 “So,” Blue said. “Is it alive?”

 Wolf pondered on the severity of the question for a moment. “I haven’t been able to translate much if the text yet. As far as I can tell the description uses the word ‘animate’, which would imply that the Golem is not truly alive, but that could be poor translation.”

 “It’s probably better that way.” Blue said with a sly smile.

 “What do you mean by that?”

 “With a face like that, it would wish it weren’t alive.” He snickered.

 “You carve a better face!”

 “I would carve it in your likeness so I could always have you wandering aimlessly with me back at the palace. Or we could leave it here and no one would know the difference if you snuck home with me.” Blue grinned at Wolf who pretended to pout but couldn’t hide his smile.

 “My sister would kill me if I snuck out again.” Wolf mused still terrified of the look on her face when she came to save him.

 “I’d heard about that. My father told me not to get any bright ideas. You two are ruining my fun before I can have it.”

 Wolf looked up to the keep to see Lady on her balcony in her robes, not at all dressed for the weather. Wolf hadn’t seen her out of her room since her injury, and yet the healers that had accompanied Blue and his father had predicted another week before she’d be able to walk. Now she stood out in the harsh weather by her own force. How long had Lady been standing there, watching him play in the snow?

 Wolf jumped up and down, waving both of his arms and drawing Blue’s attention, who turned and smiled.

 Lady waved a hand softly, and though Wolf could scarcely make out details from this distance, he swore she smiled. Then she returned into the heat of the keep.

 “Your sister is resilient,” Blue said. He held the smile well, but with Lady’s recovery it meant that his father would be returning to the kingdom. He didn’t want to leave, he enjoyed his time with his cousins.

 Wolf said nothing in response. Strong as she was, he worried that she pushed too hard.

Return to Table of Contents