Chapter One – The Shadow's Wrath
Cold winds biting. A howl that forever deafens the darkening night as it wended through the mountains' many passes. The foot worn paths that trekked the mountainside were no longer visible in the hail of snow and ice that poured from the very heavens. Darkness extended its reach in the absence of the starts and moon, making the world that much colder. Stoked by the by the billowing clouds that grasped the rocky tundra with harsh claws. Any torch or brazier that dotted the landscape had long since been extinguished by the wailing storm, leaving any traveller lost and abandoned to the shadows. Few of the wilds braved such a torrent. Instead, they sought the shelter in many of the natural caves or fissures that lay untouched by man, dwarf or elf. As such, none bore ill will to the gathering situated at the mountain's crest in hordes of many hundreds. The early moon of Eluviesta left many creatures with young to care for as new buds began to form on the verdure in the lower valleys.
A howling call echoed through the frigid, night air. Cuneal ears swivelled in response to the dim echo. The body stood poised on the edge of a small decline, the darker shadows of the cave behind beckoning with its promise of refuge. It was ignored for the figure's bright eyes decided to roam over the concealed paths walked many times a day. There was no such proof of life in the untouched snow. The storm had claimed all tracks from miles around. In the early hours of the morrow, the blanket would freeze over in sheets leaving little ways to tread safely. A brief flicker in the darkness caused the sharp eyes to snap into focus. An orange glow fought against the winds in a futile effort. Shoulders hunched forward in wariness and legs lowered deeper into the drifting snow. The glow moved closer still, a bare flicker. The light passed onto the incline, but there was nothing to see.
"Maker!" A voice cursed, teeth chattering uncontrollably. Three hooded figures stumbled half-blindly in the rising snow against the winds of mass power. The owner of the voice cried out as the torch he carried spewed flames back into his face. "At this rate we'll set ourselves alight."
"Should've listened to the old codger back in that hamlet then, shouldn't we?" The smaller figure behind the first called out grumpily. The torch in his hand revealed pale features under the heavy hood. "He told us there would be a storm."
The third laughed dryly. "Most would call this a blizzard, Jordan." As in snow, ice and treacherous winds. I'd take storm over blizzard any day."
Jordan snapped back. "Don't get smart with me Regalyan! It's your fault we're out here in this stupid storm in the first place."
Regalyan huffed indignantly as the flickering torch was pushed towards his face by Jordan, illuminating them both. Jordan could be seen as a young born of twenty with pale skin, a thin frame and ice cold blood eyes. Short strands of dirty blond hair would be seen poking wildly under his hood. Regalyan was a fair bit older than his companion with a few wrinkles lining his eyes, but otherwise he looked health with a slight pinkish skin tone, brown hair and dark blue eyes. Following his jaw is a light graze of a beard which had grown quite uncontrollable during the course of their journey.
"While I may be an enchanter, Jordan, there is no reason for my being at the Conclave. There are probably a few hundred mages in that temple. From all over Thedas. An enchanter from the White Spire is no more needed than an apprentice." At this Jordan snorted in anger and whirled away. "Not to mention there will be hundreds of hostile templars waiting to cut us down. You saw what happened at the Spire."
Jordan whirled back on Regalyan. "You know that wasn't-"
"Enough! The pair of you." Their companion commanded wearily over the howling winds. His wrinkled visage and grey hair betraying his age. "If we do not reach the temple soon we shall all freeze to death."
Regalyan sighed. "I apologise Carlisle." Jordan too grumbled his apology. "How much further is it to the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"
"A couple of miles. Or it should be if we've kept to the path." He ignored Jordan's snort and gestured with his staff to a small gap between the mountain peaks. "Hopefully the pass hasn't been barricaded in this Maker forsaken storm."
Regalyan sighed and quickly moved to the point of the group. "Well, turning back isn't an option anymore." He began to lead them forward only to stop when he realised Jordan had yet to move. "Neither is staying here."
"We have no idea where we are. We have no way of navigating the mountain and yet you still want to march off in a random direction in the hopes of stumbling across the temple?" Jordan crossed his arm defiantly. "You're mad if you think I'm going to march to my death."
"Jordan," Carlisle pleaded weakly, "if we just wait here –"
"We'll all freeze to death." Regalyan finished harshly, getting tired of the young man's attitude. He levelled a glare and Jordan was quick to look at his feet. "If you want to wait here in the middle of nowhere in this weather than be my guest. I, however, will continue going in that direction and likely find the temple. I am sure Carlisle is of the same mind." He didn't look to see if the older mage agreed. He kept his eyes on the chastised youth who refused to lift his gaze.
Without another word Jordan trudged towards them. Regalyan let out another sigh and turned to continue their trek. Together, they all waded through the knee-deep snow that steadily rose higher. After an hour, the snow had reached their mid-thighs and Carlisle was beginning to feel succumb to the ache in his arthritic bones. Jordan was huffing out shallow breaths in order to keep the oxygen flowing in his frozen muscles. Regalyan was forced to grit his teeth together to prevent the violent chattering. It wasn't long until Carlisle requested a short break and promptly collapsed in the snow drift.
"Damn it," Regalyan dropped his staff, which he had until then been using as a walking aid, and quickly rushed over to Carlisle's prone form before he drowned in the snow. In the darkness of the snowstorm, it was difficult to see anything beyond a foot away. "Jordan, give me some light."
Jordan had too rushed to their companion's aid and hastily charged his staff to flicker with a low-grade fire spell. The darkness folded back at the encroaching glow and Regalyan was relieved to see Carlisle was still conscious, but very pale.
"What do we do now?" Jordan panicked, eyeing Carlisle's pale complexion and shivering. "We can't drag him up the mountain."
Regalyan was already throwing one of Carlisle's arms over his shoulder as to heft him into a weak standing position against him. The older mage leaned heavily on his body and his breathing grew more laboured. He made no arguments against the treatments which spoke for how exhausted he was as he was forever lamenting his 'old bones'.
"Grab the staffs will you?" he asked Jordan as he began the painstaking journey with the added weight. He was in for a long night.
"Maker!" Jordan yelled in fear. The sound of the young man's body hitting the snowdrift had Regalyan spinning on his heels. Carlisle's almost dead weight nearly had him, but he somehow managed to right himself at the last moment to see what had startled his companion.
"Can we ever just catch a break?" he muttered as he took in the sight before him. Carlisle's staff lay neatly in the snow where it had been abandoned when its owner collapsed. Jordan was sat rigidly in the deep snow just within arm's reach of the staff, eyes wide with fear. The young man's staff had slipped into the snow, remaining alight so they could see the wickedly curved claws of the darkest ebony curled around the handgrip of Carlisle's staff. Fur as black as the night's sky spouted from sinewy legs that led up into a lean body thick with its winter coat. Head lowered in observation, ears swivelled to attention and emerald eyes narrowed in righteous caution. The wolf's muzzle was tense, dark lips pulled back into a slight snarl. Regalyan had never seen a wolf of such striking colour. Untouched by blood, dirt and age it looked like something out a dream. Out of the Fade itself.
The eyes eerily reminded him of the Fade.
"Don't move!" Regalyan hissed when Jordan's hand twitched against his staff. The wolf was nothing more than curious and judging by its smaller size still young. Regalyan peeked into the darkness for any signs of its brethren and was both relieved and curious to find none. Jordan whimpered pathetically when the wolf's muzzle drew tighter and a low growl reverberated from deep within its chest. Ears curled back against its head at a perceived threat and its haunches lowered deeper into the snow. It was going to lunge.
With his staff lying feet away from him and Carlisle's deadweight, Regalyan would be of no help. Jordan looked ready to start spurting fireballs, but remained firmly frozen in place. Regalyan knew he had to take control of the situation and fast.
"Jordan," he kept his voice at a low, non-threatening tone. "Move towards me. Slowly."
Jordan heeded his command and slowly began to feel his way back towards him, still sitting in the snow in fear. Never once did he take his eyes off the young wolf as did Regalyan. Which is why when the wolf suddenly lunged for Jordan they never saw it coming.
Jordan screamed as the wolf was suddenly upon him, teeth snapping around his cloak and tugging fast. The boy flailed and beat the beast with his bare hands causing a low, angry grunt. As soon as the wolf moved Regalyan was ready to drop Carlisle to help his friend, staff or no staff.
It was too late.
Jordan let out a bubbling choke. Blood leaking from his mouth as his body froze in shock. The blood began to rapidly fill his lungs and the life left his eyes before he could even process what had just happened. Regalyan watched in horror as Jordan fell backwards onto the snow: lifeless.
An arrow protruding from his neck.
The wolf didn't hesitate. Suddenly, Regalyan found himself flat on his back as another arrow sailed directly overhead where he had stood just moments before. His breath was knocked out of him by the wolf's sudden weight, but it disappeared as quickly as it come as the animal bounded off his chest. Battle cries rung the frigid air followed by the wolf's angry snarls. Regalyan rolled over to get a better look at their attackers. His heart stuttered at the sight.
Templars. A small group of four consisting of a marksman, two foot soldiers and a guard. The marksman was stood further back with another arrow drawn ready to fire. The two foot soldiers were rushing forward with the battle cries from before while the guard waited at their rear with his shield poised in defence.
Regalyan watched numbly as the wolf nimbly dodged another arrow whilst in mid-leap. The approaching templars stood no chance as one was barrelled into by a snarling mass of sharp claws and teeth. The wolf had torn the templar's throat out before they even hit the ground and was already lunging for the second one. It dodged to the side to avoid a precise downwards cut and once more closed the gap between them; teeth digging into the small gap between the helmet and the pauldron. Blood sprayed both snow and fur alike. The darkness turning it black like the Void. It chose to attack the guard next. Black claws tearing up the snow as it crossed the distance between them in mere seconds. The guard was ready for it with a hard shield bash, but the wolf simply used the down angle of the shield to grip the thick arch and catapult itself over the templar's head. It landed in the snow behind and was quick to turn and latched itself onto the templar's unprotected back. Using its claws to tear open the restraints on the heavy armour it bite deeply into the soft flesh hidden beneath. The templar screamed in agony. Once more the wolf silenced the man with a quick snap at the throat followed by a splatter of blood. The guard dropped to the ground dead.
Regalyan flinched when an arrow skimmed through the air by his head. He had almost forgotten about the archer. While the arrow had not been made for him it had come unbearably close. The second, however, didn't miss its mark. He could only watch with wide eyes as sharp metal and wood tore through the dark expanse of fur and muscle between the wolf's right ribs. It let out a sharp whine as blood dripped onto the snow below. The marksman had taken his shot as a sure sign of victory and readied the final arrow. A shot like that on any animal would render it immobile from shock. If not it would be too disorientated to retaliate fast enough to avoid the final blow. Either way arrow wounds were devastating to all creatures.
So it came as a surprise to both the marksman and Regalyan when the wolf's jaw enclosed on the shaft of the arrow. With a sharp nod and growl the shaft snapped leaving only an inch of shaft sticking out from the creature's body. With the shaft held in its bloodied muzzle, the wolf turned it eyes to its offender. The marksman lost his nerve at the sight of the vicious pools of fiery green. That was all it took for the wolf to drop the shaft and finish him in one final swoop.
Regalyan watched with a pallid face as the wolf literally tore the marksman throat out, almost severing the head. And just like that it was over. Regalyan continued to lay in the snow next to a now unconscious Carlisle. Jordan's body crumbled behind him like a rag doll. He refused to look back. No doubt Jordan's eyes were wide open, forever portraying the shock of his death. The wolf stood over the templar's body, chest heaving heavily. They remained like that for a few moments before the wolf turned its eyes to him. It stumbled sideways as the arrow still lodged in its side caused no end of pain with every flex, every breath. It did not allow itself to falter long, however. Soon the wolf was once again in front of him, head lowered to regard him carefully.
Regalyan wasn't stupid. This wolf had just saved his life. Had tried to save Jordan's life. It wasn't in any doubt that they would have all been slaughtered violently if not for this wolf of night.
Regalyan bowed his head. "Thank you."
While it felt ridiculous talking to an animal there was little else he could do to express his gratitude. The wolf's head titled to the side. Regarding him for a moments longer before it closed the distance between them and gently licked his exposed forehead. Regalyan couldn't help the flinch. The wolf's snout was slick with blood and saliva, but Regalyan was warmed by the gesture. With trembling figures he reached out and poised them a little above the dark fur of the wolf's cheek. When the wolf failed to recoil he allowed his fingers to gently tangle in the thick coat. With a soft stroke, the wolf let out a hum of contentment and Regalyan couldn't stop the tilt of his lips at the sound.
A howl broke the moment. Regalyan jerked back in shock at the sound while the wolf's head merely turned in the direction of the howl, ears swivelling to attention. A beat of the heart and the wolf let out a powerful response, echoing deep into the mountains over the din over the storm. The wolf wasn't apparently alone which would have been surprising for a wolf so young. Regalyan watched as another wolf appeared from the darkness; elderly with grey fur and a long scar stretching across the muzzle. At the sight of him so close it its companion it growled but one quick snap from the younger had the other submitting. The black wolf snorted and turned to him and nuzzled him one last time. Content with itself it turned around to limp back to its pack member who watched scene with a wary gaze.
Regalyan watched as the other wolf sniffed at the protruding shaft. A low whine escaping its throat when its companion whined mournfully. The wolf pulled back and let out a commanding bark and was quick to guide its younger companion away, but not before the young wolf gave him one last glance. A heavy swirl of wind and they were lost to the storm.
Regalyan let out a heavy sigh. With a groan he pulled himself to his feet and quickly checked on Carlisle. The elder had lost consciousness around the time the wolf lunged at Jordan to save him and so had remained blissfully unaware of the slaughter. His skin was growing alarmingly blue in the cold and Regalyan knew he had to get Carlisle to a healer and soon. Haven was his best option, or even on the many alchemists that lived in the mountains.
A glance at Jordan's body proved there was nothing he could do for the boy. He was quick to tear the arrow from the throat but there was nothing more he could do. The shaft came loose but the arrowhead remained embedded. Such was the case with arrows. As harsh as it was the wolves could have him. They no doubt needed the food in this weather. With a quick prayer to the Maker, he gathered his staff and pulled Carlisle onto his back. Gazing forlornly into the chaotic distance Regalyan turned around and began the trek anew. This time in the opposite direction.