Ciera closed the door behind her. She listened as the sound of the heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs and down through the halls. Shivered at the feel as the house emptied, leaving only those left behind within.
She pressed her hand to the closed door. Her eyes closing as she prayed to the goddess above, and to whatever good and light might be left in this world, for her brother and all those who marched against the dark.
Turning slowly she observed her friend. Aislinn stood against the window, the harsh winter Artic landscape silhouetting her outline. She looked like a figment of the world beyond, lost and beyond this simple room. Her silvery hair loose and shining around her. Her lithe and willowy frame outlined by the newly covered whitened wonderland. Silver and grey, stark and cold, they flowed together until you could almost imagine they were one.
She belonged to this land, to this world.
Ciera knew she would have heard her enter, and yet Aislinn did not react or turn, her arms remaining wrapped around herself. Her thin fingers clutching at her sides as if she was trying to physically hold herself together.
"Aislinn." Ciera started, unsure what words of comfort would be enough, could ever be enough.
"There is nothing to say Ciera." Her voice felt like the wind, insubstantial and fleeting.
"We can keep trying." Ciera said, refusing to accept what they had been fighting against for days.
"Have you finally found something in the books you keep reading? In the journals you hunted down in the council house? Did you find the answers that not even the most powerful of our kind held?" Aislinn asked gently, her tone gentle and at odds with her bleak words.
Ciera felt tears build in her eyes, but refused to let them fall. "There are places we haven't looked yet. People we can still ask. Pack Solani perhaps." Ciera offered desperately clinging to the most far-reached of their ideas.
They both knew Ciera had found nothing in her searches. That the books they had so hopefully taken from the council house library had been useless dead ends. That the riddles Clifton had given them had led to nothing, that every medical book and journal she had borrowed and stolen from Ethan had offered not even a clue to how to get her wolf back, to undo what had so seemingly irreparably cleaved her soul in half.
"And how shall we find those which are hidden when we are on the brink of war? And besides that, we both know I don't have the time or energy to search for them."
"So call them to your aid, ask them to answer like you did with pack Tenebris." Ciera argued stubbornly.
"To call to the aid of the crown, you must be the crown." Aislinn answered wearily.
"There must be a way. You cannot die, not after everything."
"And why not?" Aislinn argued, finally turning from the window to stare at her friend, open and honest curiosity on her face. "Why should I not die?"
"Because you deserve to live. Because Kaiden needs you to live. Because I need you. The world needs you."
Aislinn smiled softly, her eyes softening. "The world doesn't need me and neither do you."
"I refuse to accept this."
"And that is one of the kindest things you could offer me." She smiled at her friend, no fear or anger on her face, only sad and resigned acceptance. "Do you think they'll win?" Aislinn asked returning to her vigil at the window.
"I know they'll try." Ciera said, moving to stand beside her. Their shoulders brushing softly. "I don't know if that will be enough though."
"It's always enough Ciera. Always enough."
.
.
War is never pretty. It is never righteous or glorious. War is dirty. It is terrifying. Bloody. Loud and horrific. There is no good side. No winner or loser. There is only the side that lost less, the side that managed to kill more of the other. There are no clean hands in a battle. No innocent pure hearted heroes.
When you die you are no different than the enemy beside you. You bleed the same. Cry the same. Die the same. Meaning, intention, cause, logic, none of it matters here. Here all that matters is death. It, the only truth. The rest of it matters before. And perhaps it matters after. But at the clash of battle, at the first bash of side against side, with the first death, the first drop of blood, it all shrinks away and none of it matters. Why loses all meaning. There is no more 'right' or 'wrong', 'good' or 'evil' there is only life and death, and the struggle to hold onto who you were before it all started.
This was no different. They were fighting for the good. It did not mean they were good. Did not mean their actions were good. In the bitter winter air, under the low full moon, there was little that distinguished them from their enemies. Here they were all the same. The only difference was whose team you were on. Tomorrow it would matter. In the light of day good and bad, right and wrong, would exist once more. But at that moment, in the here and now, they were all the dark. There was no light.
They say history is written by the victor.
War is written in blood.
They didn't have to wait long before it started.
Aislinn felt it. Felt the first shockwaves reverberate through the world. The pain of the earth itself, as once more life was ripped and destroyed because of the tragic worship of all that is greed and corruption, power and wealth.
She was cold now, the frozen ice that had descended outside her window having penetrated her bones. It was an echoing distant feeling though, the ice that filled her barely registering in her mind. Her body no longer connected to her consciousness. There wasn't much time left, her grip on this world was slipping rapidly from her fingers.
Staring out the window she watched as the glistening snow fell. Watched the sky darken. Time had little meaning anymore, no longer seeming concrete or real to her. Minutes felt like days, and hours passed by in mere seconds. She watched the world, her world, their world.
Night settled around them.
"Do you feel that?" She suddenly asked Ciera, the first words that had been spoken between them in hours.
"Yes." Ciera whispered, tears trailing down her face.
"Do you hear that?" She asked even softer. The smallest flame of life sparking in the emptiness of her eyes as she stared out into the night.
"What is it?" Ciera said, leaning closer to the window trying to catch whatever it was that was humming just beyond her senses. It was like a low thrum, a brush of sensation along her spin that she couldn't quite grab, a muffled cry she couldn't quite make out.
Aislinn gasped, her body shuddering violently. Her hands flew to the glass. Her fingers splaying out, wintery skin pressed against the ice-cold glass as she steadied herself. Her head dropping as she took a deep inhale. Her lungs expanding out and out, breathing for the first time.
Slowly she lifted her head, her hands staying pressed to the glass, to the picture of the world just beyond, to the realm she could almost nearly touch.
Ciera watched her in terror. Anticipating her collapse at any moment. Expecting to watch the last wisps of life be syphoned from her friend. She had felt it all day. Felt as Aislinn had slowly slipped from this world, her presence, her substance dissolving until she was nothing but an indistinct shadow of her former self.
Ciera let out her own gasp of surprise. Her hands going to her mouth in shock as she stared.
Aislinn' voice was ice, that of winter itself, of all that is wild and untamed in this world. The chaos and power of nature and the beauty of life.
"We need to go."
.
.
It wasn't as easy to convince Richard and her guard.
"I am leaving through that door Richard, so step aside."
"Your Majesty, you are weakened and defenseless and the King has left strict orders." Richard said. Keeping his body firmly blocking her way to the door. Leland and Hugo flanking him, matching stern and concerned expressions on their faces as they observed her.
"You think I'm defenseless?" Aislinn asked insulted. A silver dagger suddenly appearing and twirling between her fingers expertly reaffirming her point and words. "And since when do you listen to what Kaiden says? And to his orders really Richard? Remind me again to who and what exactly you swear your loyalty and service too?"
Richard's face scrunched in distaste at her words, his eyes flicking to the knife she was so calmly tossing in the air. "You are safer here and guarded, your Majesty, the fight – its..." Richard's voice trailed off, agony flashing in his eyes.
"Which is exactly why you are going to step aside." Aislinn snapped. "Now, I have allowed all of this long enough and I've had enough. You are going to step aside this instant Richard, or I am going to make you." Her voice was deadly and everyone present felt the absolute certainty contained in her words.
There was a beat before Richard's head bowed and his eyes dropped off of her and onto the floor. Then he was stepping aside, Hugo and Leland only a fraction behind him.
Aislinn nodded to the men, "Right. Now, Custos-" Richard's head snapped up at the use of his title, Aislinn grinned at him, letting out a tiny laugh at the surprise that glowed in his eyes. "Grab your things, we have a King to save."
.
.
They were losing. Kaiden could see it, even as his mind and wolf rebelled against the idea. The mind links between the packs reverberating with pain, death, and desperation. Kaiden glanced across the field to where Vance was fighting against three council wolves, his flank a mass of bloody torn flesh. He couldn't even find Maleco anymore. The Alpha after having given a bloodthirsty howl had charged into the center of the enemies ranks. Kaiden spared a moment to hope the brave Alpha was still alive, that any of them were still alive.
Austin's large dark brown wolf stood at his flank, his breathing heavy and coming out in pants. His muzzle and teeth stained dark with blood. Kaiden didn't miss how he limped ever so slightly, favoring his left paw. He wouldn't last much longer as wounded and exhausted as he was, and yet he didn't hesitate. There wasn't a moment or thought of regret or fear from the Beta. Kaiden swung his massive blue black head to look at his friend, he didn't have to speak the words, and the Beta's small head shake was enough to have Kaiden re-focused on the enemies rallying his forces together to charge them again.
They were being over-run. The rogues and council protectors working together with a disturbing and unexpected familiarity. The sheer numbers from the rogues, supplemented by the warriors and fighters from Pack Bellator, Lux, Semper and the council was exhausting and weakening their own lines. Every time they managed to take down a wolf, three more were in their place. They seemed endless. The newly formed and forced bonds having twisted them into bloodthirsty relentless beasts. They showed no mercy, no humanity, no regard for their own lives or that of their comrades. Their 'masters' will supplanting and erasing any thought or free-will. They were now creatures, machines, of death and destruction.
Kaiden felt his will and determination stutter. It was just too much. His wolves' deaths echoed across the mind-link, their agonizing pain becoming a constant song in all their minds. Teeth and claws ripped and shredded. Growls and cries filled the air, the sounds of fighting blocking anything else out.
They needed to get to the leaders, take out the head and heart of the battle. Kaiden sent the thoughts out, trying to pull their wolves together pointing them at the center of the enemy where Kaiden had spotted large wolves observing the fighting. They were surrounded by guards and warriors, staying just behind the main body of the confrontation. Kaiden felt a growl rip from his throat, his jaws snapping powerfully around a small grey wolf who lunged for him, breaking the pup's neck as he spotted the unmistakable form of his brother Anthony's wolf amongst those gathered to watch.
Kaiden fought his way through the lines. Wolf after wolf falling to his teeth and claws. He felt as some of his pack and others from Tenebris and Silva fell in behind him, rallying to his call. It was a last stand. Perhaps foolish and impossible but Kaiden had made her a promise, and he refused to break one more to her.
It was their lives or his.
Only a few hundred feet separated them now. Kaiden felt himself tiring. Most of his pack and their allies had been forced to collapse together, and now fought back to back surrounded by rogues and Bellator wolves on all sides.
Refusing to give up and to accept defeat, Kaiden rallied every last ounce of strength and will he had left. He conjured every memory and beat of love for Aislinn to fuel his muscles to beat against the hopelessness that was trying to choke him. Howling he launched himself in one last futile attempt.