08/15/09: So here we are, after an entire year of waiting, I bring to you the rewrite to the story. All just to trace back to the beginning. I dearly hope this was worth the wait for you all, and to myself. I'm amazed at everything I changed, hopefully for the better. And for those late to the party, if you want the old incomplete draft to the original story, you are free to contact me. So without further adieu…the New Beginning.
An ocean of clouds blotted out the moon, depriving Elena of the precious light she desperately needed to guide her way. Hours passed, the savage rainfall showed no signs of dying out. Lighting struck the lands continuously, ominously trailing the fleeing ferret, as if the sky itself was witnessing her fate this night. It watched as she ran blindly through the wilderness, a look of desperation and fear evident in her eyes. Her rags did little to shield her from the rain, but her racing heart kept the chill at bay.
A flash of lighting struck nearby, illuminating the sheer terror painted on the maidens face. She was lost – no sense of where she was going – but that was Elena's intention. She may be running blind, but so are her pursuers. With one arm, she batted shrubberies and branches from her eyes as she delved deeper into the wilderness. But her other arm was tucked firmly to herself, holding a newborn. His face carried Elena's features, her child without a doubt. It was for his sake Elena was fleeing, placing him in front of her own well being.
In a stroke of misfortune, Elena's footing had caught in her dragging cloak, forcing her to stumble. The maiden turned her body to fall to her side, sparring her son from being caked in mud. The ferret immediately tried to rise back to her feet, when all of a sudden she became anchored to the ground as a searing sensation pulsed throughout her body. The muscles in her legs contracted and twisted painfully, rendering her legs numb and useable. Not understanding the consequences of running past her body's limits, Elena feared that her legs were dead. An unfamiliar pain in her stomach added to the invisible weight holding her down. Hour's worth of exhaustion began to assail Elena as her adrenaline She closed her eyes under the continuous rain, tensing up as the pain came and went with every heartbeat
Despite the events, Elena did her best to persist through the discomfort. With her free arm, she clawed at the mud, dragging herself to the dearest tree where she could hide and rest. As Elena tried to press her back against the trunk, a sharp pain arose from her lower back, extending to the opposite side of her stomach. Her fear and paranoia continued to plague the otherwise restful moment. Elena wanted to wake up from this yearlong nightmare. Ever since it all began, Elena had never been able to feel safe again. Over the months her havens have been rooted out, leaving her no choice but to run.
Not matter where she fled, her pursuers found a way to draw closer, Elenor know that somewhere in these forests, they are just an arrow's reach away from her. There was nowhere left for her to hide, no one alive or willing to harbour her. Knowing that running never lasts forever, Elena knew this was to be her final night.
Dejected and broken, Elena drew her paw to the source of the pain in her stomach. She winced, feeling only the wet fabric of her clothes. As she inspected her withdrawn paw, she found that her fur had become darker, discoloured. Lighting once again struck at a timely moment, giving Elena a clear view of how much blood she was losing. Least to say the sight of her own life stained all over her paw was unsettling. A product of a barbed shaft pierced her back, ripping through her abdomen as it exited through the other side. Though she splintered the arrowhead, she was wise enough not the remove the shaft lest she risk excessive bleeding.
Her baby, sensing his mother's pain and distress, thrashed his arms out of the bundle of cloth his mother wrapped over him from her own rags. He managed to pull Elena out of her feeling of despair, as she looked down at her son press his arms against her, doing what his newborn mind can to comfort her. Despite this small act, this small child succeeded to pull Elena into some semblance of hope once more. Now it was her turn to reassure her child.
"It's…alright. I'm okay." She stroked his head fur to comport him, but pulled her paw away when she realized her fingertips were tracing her own blood down his forehead.
She wiped away the blood as best she could, not to leave a trace of taint on her sons' features. She crooned and cooed to the child as he grew unsettled. Barring the few friends who stood and died by her side in these trying times, Elena's son, despite being a helpless newborn, was the only real being she felt truly safe with. He had been the only contact with people she had for the past year, being nurtured inside of her. For a fortnight, after his birth into the world, neither of them had since left each other's side. The both of them refused to part from one another.
It was a scant hope, she knew. But Elena always wanted to believe there exists a place she could be truly safe. The boy's father has proven that there was no such place in the world. Elena knew that as long as she was still alive, eventually they would be able to find her child. They would abuse him; raise him to become a hateful monster, erasing the wonderful person he could be.
"The hell I'm going to let that happen to you." She said out loud, brushing her chin over her sons' head, which seemed to comfort him.
She stayed under the tree, debating on her next course of action. She thought deeply, probably much longer than she should have. All signs pointed to one last alternative, one last chance to ensure a normal life for her child. The only way Elena's pursuers could find the cub was by tracking the person caring for him, his mother. However, with her out of the picture, they would have no hope of ever finding him. As for as she knew, no one knew what the baby looks like, there would be no way for them to recognize her son. But neither would Elena; she can't know where her son would be to ensure that.
She even had letters prepared. She never thought it would really come to this. She knew it was a selfish thing to keep her son with her for this long. She acknowledges now that all her hopes of attaining a normal life with her son were never possible in the first place.
Elena finally came to a decision, rising back to her feet. The resting Elena took did will for her, barring the wound she's endured, which thankfully the bleeding is starting to stop. Cautiously, she stepped out of her cover of hiding, but determined to find a wiling dweller in this forest to take her child in, momentarily at least. She mustn't afford to waste any more time. A disturbing and familiar presence swept through the air. She feared that at any second now, her greatest fear would strike her down.
And she was right.
The skies expelled another lightning, revealing Elena's presence to the patient hunter, giving the archer to perfect opportunity to let his arrow fly. It tore swiftly through Elena's robes, grazing her arms deeply, before plunging into the mud. Without daring to look back, she raced off.
Her attacker was not troubled in the least that she was losing herself within the maze of the wilderness. This was a last act of desperation, a fool's effort. His heart was beating as fast as Elena's; lighting flashed to show his satisfied expression. He was so close; he swore he could smell Elena's blood from here. He could almost feel the baby she stubbornly carried with her. The imposing male ferret noticed one of his companions notching a bow, and immediately reached to divert the aim.
"No." He commanded. "I want her alive. Alive." He repeated the last word more loudly, to make it clear to his subordinate.
"My lord." The shadowed rat replied, with a scared pitch in his voice, "I thought we only need the child."
"Loy, shut up!" Another rat warned his companion harshly.
The large ferret would've killed that rat right on the spot, but he didn't have the time for it. "She could fall, and possibly drown the baby in mud." He explained, "But even if you do catch her, I still want her alive!" He raised his voice loudly when the incompetent rat dared to open his mouth, "Don't ask! Groups of two, head along the north and the south. First she'll head directly west, then head to the adjacent directions to try and lose us."
Knowing Roth, he would assume Elena would flee to either the north or the south instead of straight down the opposite direction like a fool. Her gamble to take the fool's road this time has brought a few hours in what little time she has. Truth be told, Elena no longer knew where she was heading, the only truth is that she mustn't stop running. Her hope faded as the trees began to thin. Soon she found herself breaking out of the safe folds of the forests and out onto open grassland. Finally, Elena succumbed completely in defeat. She swung her face up to the skies and sobbed, the rain only attributing to mix with her tears.
"I don't care anymore if I die." She called to the skies, praying that some all knowing force would hear her, "Just give my son a chance to choose his own fate, please!"
In normal circumstances, she would've never relied on Fate to help her. For a moment, it seemed her prayers have been answered by a sick joke. From across the downpour, Elena caught sight of a small glimmer of light in the distance. She nearly recoiled in terror, fearing it was one of the trackers. The panic passed when she could make out the shape to be far too large to be a person.
Curious, Elena pulled herself back to her feet, trekking towards the black shape. She drew closer; making out stonewalls surrounding a massive building in the centre. She trailed her paw along the walls, trying to feel for a door or a gate. Instead, her paw brushed against a brass sign amongst the stonework. She couldn't believe her eyes that the words inscribed "Wellman's Orphanage."
"No." She turned her eyes away in doubt, "No. This is too obvious." She pondered through every possible detail of that scenario. This building stood out more than the sun in the skies. There was a chance though that her chasers may overlook this place because of that, even him. But that would be wishful thinking. Even if the tenants were willing to shelter her son, it would mean putting their lives, and the lives of the other children at stake. Then she regretfully reminded herself how important her son was, compared to the fate of Mossflower. Regardless, the baby would be much safer hare than with her.
If only she had more time, Elena thought. It seems thought this is the best that Fate could afford for her. She quickly scoffed at reminiscing, continuing to believe in fate after all it has done to her. "No." She immediately renounced her doubts. Fate wasn't to blame for her woes and hardships; it was the monster that twisted it for his own gains. Elena could almost hear Fate itself beckoning her to trust in it now. Perhaps it was just her rationality speaking, it didn't matter anymore.
She made her decision, not daring to waste time. Her paw trailed down the walls, trying to find the entrance in the pitch-black night. Eventually she grasped the iron frame, the barred entrance to her son's salvation. Though the gates were locked, it didn't phase the mother's conviction as she started to climb. Taking to account the child in tow, she was doing pretty well. The adjacent bars of the gate were all slanted, making it exceptionally difficult for her to keep a steady foothold. And the further she climbed, the higher the bars were to reach. She knew it would've been easier if she had left her son in the rain so she could climb over and slide him through. Damn her selfishness for not making that sacrifice. She was only halfway up when she found herself in a hopeless situation; the next bar was just too high to reach. Undeterred by this obstacle, Elena stressed her legs, standing on her toes to gain that inch she needed.
She should have seen the signs; her feet shaking against the narrow bars. At first, the tips of her fingers were able to grasp the bar. Then all of a sudden, her target drew smaller, farther away. She couldn't understand what was happening, until she felt her feet hit the ground. The mud cushioned the fall, but it did nothing to spare Elena from the pain of her mistakes. Shortly later, believing the worst happened, Elena dared to stand up again. Although it hurt, her leg managed to hoist her up. But it was when she tried to settle the other food down she realized how bad the fall was. She fell forward, bracing the gates just in time. She prayed that her leg wasn't broken. Regardless, she was in no condition to climb again.
"I'm so sorry…" She curled up against the wall, making herself as small as possible. Although her son was safe from the storm, his almost empathic ability to sense his mother's pain echoed into him, encouraging him to cry again. He felt so cold in Elena's arms, she was remorseful she couldn't save him. "I'm sorry." Was all she could say.
"Please don't cry. Please don't cry…" She tried to calm her child down, unaware that she herself was weeping.
The mouse Elenor frowned heavily as she spotted yet another article of clothing on the floor, carelessly discarded by one of the dibbuns. An apron was draped over her nightgown, specially made to have a laundry basket tied at the front. Elenor only wished the basket was larger, as she was becoming more encumbered day and night, as the children grew untidier. Unfortunately this wasn't the worst of her duties.
Elenor trekked to the guest's waiting room, peeing in with her lantern in one paw. Upon first inspection, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. Just before she could proceed to the next room, a small sound caught her attention. She knew that noise from anywhere, a mischief's giggle.
Closing the doors quietly behind her, Elenor crept to look behind the curtains, no one, leaving only the draped table in the centre. The mouse knew what the scamp was up to. The second she lifts the covers, the child would jump up and scare her. Well, she certainly isn't going to give this late sleeper the satisfaction. Once more, the child beneath the table failed to suppress his triumphant laugh, giving Elenor the opportunity circle behind the dibbun, turning the tables on the child's game.
"Got you!" She flung open the table covers, expecting the child to jump up and bang his head. All she saw however was an empty space. But this was impossible, she heard a child giggle under this table. An unsettling possibility occurred to her, but she tried to dismiss the thought. There was no such thing as ghosts, especially not the one Elenor used to frighten unruly children. When she stood up, she realized she wasn't alone. A small spectre had been standing on the opposite side on the table. It lunged at Elenor, making a tortured face, encouraging Elenor to scream in fright.
It took the mouse maid a moment to realize the ghost was pounding on the table, laughing uncontrollably at her reaction.
"Ald'ruhn." Elenor stamped her feet down, "I can't believe you!"
The little otter seemed unfazed by her menacing tone, instead walking up to tug at her apron, "Now you go hide!"
"Oh, no Ald'ruhn." The mouse's agitation turned to wearisome, "You knows it's not playtime during the night."
"But it's much more easy hiding in the dark." The otter-boy replied.
"Night time is sleep time."
"But I don't get tired." Ald'ruhn complained, "By the time I get to sleep, it's already morning and everyone's already waking up."
Elenor smiled, knowing full well this was an empty excuse, "Do you know that if you stay awake for too long, you'll never be able to sleep again?" She was lying, be Ald'ruhn was quite impressionable.
"Well, then I don't have to go to bed anymore." The otter failed to see the lesson.
"But you'll never get to dream again, no matter how hard you try." At last, the little otter began to show worry on his brow.
"But…but I like dreaming."
"Then why aren't you sleeping?"
"Um…" The otter-lad was at loss, his white lies proving useless.
"Now come on." Elenor took Ald'ruhn's paw; urging him to walk with her, "Let's get you to bed."
"Wait a minute." A revelation came to the child, "Why do you get to stay up then?"
Elenor made sure the otter cub wasn't feigning his slumber. It didn't take long for Ald'ruhn to fall fast asleep. Despite living as an orphan, Ald'ruhn was one of the lucky cases. He had no reason to have nightmares of the past, being only a baby when he was left on the orphanage's doorsteps. Elenor could only assume the worst why his parents had done this.
The other children however still had much recovering to be done. Elenor resumed her work, but she can still remember some of the orphans crying aloud in their sleep, waking up violently after having relived their worst memories. The further she moved away from the dorms, the more real and loud the cries became. It came to the point Elenor realized she was no longer imagining the cries anymore. She can hear it, meshed in the rain outside.
"Another one." Elenor thought sombrely, "But to leave the child in the rain? How could they?"
She hurried to the front doors, slipping out of her basket apron and into a raincoat. As she opened the doors to outside, she was surprised not to see a baby on the doorsteps. She followed the sobbing further ahead, remembering that the gates were routinely locked at night.
Her lantern shaped out a slender figure, quivering against the wall on the other side. Elenor could hear the adult sobbing as she drew closer, joined with the infants crying, bundled in the person's arms.
"Hello?" Elenor called out, "Are you alright?"
The female in the shadows arched upwards, spinning around to see the light bearer in the darkness, "Oh thank you!" she grasped the bars, "Thank you!"
Elenor immediately sensed something was wrong, it was wild desperation in the female's voice, not relief.
"Please, please! I need help!"
Elenor's drive to help others responded to the stranger's plea. The mouse rushed to the maiden, ready to unlock the gates without a moment's hesitation. "Don't worry." Reassured the stranger, "Everything's going to be fine. Every-."
Elenor gazed up, discovering that her lantern was close enough to the female so she was no longer a shadow. The shock of seeing a ferret up close all of a sudden caused Elenor to lose grip of her lantern and fall into the mud. The ferret immediately sensed Elenor's fears, and saw her backing away.
"No, please! Don't go!" Elena desperately tried reaching through the bars, which only succeeded in frighten the mouse more.
Elenor had half a mind to run back inside regardless. She would've almost called for Rayhne or one of the guards to scare off the ferret. That was until the ferret screamed with all her might words Elenor never expected to hear.
"Don't leave my baby to die! Please! You're my only hope!" Those words perplexed Elenor, she never expected a mother, a vermin mother, to speak about her child so caringly. It was almost unheard of, even in these times.
Strangely, the overturned candle in the lantern continued to flicker, giving Elenor a better look at the ferret. She was not what Elenor expected to see. There was nothing menacing or threatening about the ferret, quite the opposite. The maiden was small, frail, and on the breaking point of collapse. And she had not lived a pleasant life judging by the state of her clothes. Then Elenor saw the red smear over the Elena's stomach.
"You're hurt." Elenor stepped forward, "What happened?"
"They're after my son." Elena explained, "I tried, I tried everything! But I can't…" her legs gave out, dragging the ferret to her knees, "can't run anymore."
"Who's after your son?"
Elena shook her head, the less the mouse knew the better, "Please, please take him, hide him. Don't let them find my baby."
Elenor had no idea what to do. If this ferret was telling the truth, she had been fighting for who knows how long, there was no way Elenor could turn her away. But what if she wasn't telling the truth? Elenor hated herself for thinking this, but what if? There was always that possibility.
"I want to believe you." Elenor tried voicing her doubts as mildly as possible, "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do." For a long while, Elena hadn't said anything. Just when Elenor was getting worried, the ferret pulled her son out from under her robes, taking one long look at him as if this would be the last time. A few drops of rain splashed against the baby's brow, causing him to curl up from the cold invasion. He began to squirm, reaching blindly for his mother to shield him as she always had. But the cold and stressing barrage continued, encouraging his cries. Elenor saw the ferret's mouth move; whispering something into her son, but the storm had drowned it out for Elenor to pick up.
Elena pushed her son though the gate bars, just wide enough for the baby to slide through. Elenor was taken back, almost horrified at what Elena was doing. The ferret maiden held her crying child out in the rain, to be taken in by Elenor or succumb to the cold rain. The baby thrashed wildly within his meagre bundle of cloth. The baby was overcome with nothingness, for the very first time he had become separated from the caring presence that has always kept him safe.
"Look at him." Elena implored, "There's nothing wrong with him. There's still hope, that's all I ever wanted for him."
At that point, all of Elenor's uncertainty vanished. She reached out to accept the child, and true to Elena's words, she did nothing to betray Elenor's trust. The mouse immediately tucked the whimpering baby beneath her cloak. She saw Elena's eyes have drained, as if what's left of her strength had given out as she relinquished her child. "What about you?"
"I don't have a future." Said Elena, doing her best to rise back to her feet, "Not beyond tonight."
"Wait!" Elenor had pulled out an envelope she had felt amongst the baby's clothe, "What is this?"
"The only thing he'll ever know of his mother." The ferret tested her injured leg again, and although agony swept across her face, she found that she was able to keep standing this time, "When you think he's ready. When he's old enough." And with that, she turned away, swearing not to look upon her son again.
"His name." Elenor asked, "Does he have a name?"
Elena was about to say that it was all in the letter. But then she realized where her son was going to be living. For the first time in a long while, she laughed, "Orphen."
The weasel knelt to his knees to inspect the footprints. In a way, the storm made things easier for him, with the rain filled the sunken impressions in the mud. If only his surroundings weren't pitch black he wouldn't have to crawl the entire way. But lately he found himself backing up, becoming befuddled at the pattern of the tracks, or rather the lack of it, "Well, this is new."
"So what is she to Lord Roth?" The weasel glanced up at his procrastinating partner, the lantern holder, "Like a mistress? An old flare?"
"Nobody." The weasel went back to studying the tracks, "Just a necessary means to have a child."
"That can't be." The pine marten cast scepticism, "The way he talks about her."
"Well," The weasel didn't bother this time to face the marten, "From what I heard, she was affiliated with that group who tried to stand up against him."
"Which one."
"Doesn't matter." The weasel shrugged, "They're all dead."
"So is that why he did what he did to her? One last insult to the graves of his enemies?"
"No, no. It was more than that." The conversation started to rouse the weasel's interest. "I overheard him talking to himself one time, how Elena was destined – no, no." The weasel tapped his temple in recollection, "Chosen, yes, chosen by fate to bear the perfect heir. That's where his sick sense of love comes from. Ultimately, all she is to him is a host for a son."
"Wow." The pine marten stumbled back, as if the revelation literally struck him, "Even I find that sad. Can't imagine what Roth is going to do to the baby if we ever catch Elena."
"Roth intends to raise the child to be everything like his father. That's more than enough imagination."
"If I were Elena right now, I'd kill the baby."
"Out of mercy?"
"Well, yes, that." The marten stated, though obviously not what he meant, "But more so to ruin Roth's plan. She'd be doing the closest thing anybody's going to get to hurting him."
"You don't get it." The weasel was slightly bemused at his partner's dry remark, "Elena's a true mother, even if it meant saving this country, and she would never kill her child. Not like the others."
"Yeah. I heard the first one eviscerated her own stomach with the baby still inside. The second one amma-lated herself too."
"Immolated." The weasel corrected, before brining things back to the present, "Look, can you do something useful and at least bring that lamp here? Or do you actually want her to escape again?"
"Alright, alright." The marten obliged the request, bringing the lantern close to the tracks.
"See, right here, and there." The weasel pointed at the respective areas, "She's changing her pace erratically. And here, she's dragging her feet through the mud."
"Maybe she was trying to imitate a wagon."
"No, she did that before but in a much more clever fashion. Before, she actually traced her steps over an actual wagon trail, then broke off to divert us."
"If anything, with this rain going on, it should slow her down, since you can see her imprints at the end of this line."
"Yes. But the set of tracks she made before that, it just doesn't…" The weasel didn't know hot to put it in words, "here, just look for yourself."
"I'm looking at it. I just don't see it." The marten admitted.
"Compare yours to hers."
As the marten lifted his feet, the same puzzled look from the weasel's face dawned on him, "That's not right, it's too wide."
"She's stepped in her own footprints. Twice. She was very careful, but she must've stumbled right here.
"Wait a minute. Only two times?"
"I know!" the weasel exclaimed, "She only took one set forward, and one set back. And she stopped right here." He pointed downwards to mark his frustration. "But she didn't move on forward again or else I could've told by third impressions in the ground. We should've found her right here!"
"Well you're the tracker. I'm just the sprinting lantern holder." The marten reminded the scout, "Don't take my opinion seriously, but the only way I could see her getting away from this is if she flew away."
The weasel nodded, half agreeing with his partner's. But it was that warped logic that helped him piece the puzzle together, "No wait. Wait a minute." The weasel scanned around him, searching for something within his reach. "Lend me that lantern." He hovered a candle over a crossing tree root. He brushed the tip of his claws over a certain spot, finding mud painted his paw.
He trailed the root to a tree, his suspicions confirmed at the faint signs of mud he saw on the bark, "Oh hell."
"What? What?" the marten looked over the weasels shoulder.
"She climbed the trees." The weasel raced to inspect the other side.
"But that can't be. She can't climb and carry the baby at once."
"Maybe she hung him in a bag. It-it doesn't matter!" Frantically, the weasel searched around for additional paw prints, hoping that the maiden simply leaped to the other side of the tree. Dread soon followed as he lifted the lamp to the branches above, "And she's jumped from branch to branch."
"But with the trees this dense."
Elenor had retired from her house cleaning. Tending to the newcomer is her first priority now. She had quickly removed the baby's drenched blanket, curling him up inside a clean towel. Her first problem was that the baby had not stopped crying. Elenor knew what was wrong; the baby could tell the person holding him wasn't his mother. Even with his eyes still shut, he knew. Elenor tried everything to comfort him, making him feel safe. What Elenor didn't know was that the infant's mother had been his life. It went on until Elenor was drained, taking rest upon one of the chairs.
Fortunately, her saving grace was time. The long overdue hours of sleep the baby missed had begun to catch up. Just when the mouse was on the brink on passing out herself, the baby's yawning seemed like a blessing to her. He found a place in her arms to rest and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his mother. Elenor couldn't help but smile as he hugged her arm with his little paws. He looked so adorable and innocent unlike before. She couldn't dare put this child under Madrigal's care. Right now, she was looking at a little soul untouched by the dark nature of his own kind. Elenor wanted to keep it that, which is what his mother fought to preserve.
She eyes the envelope resting on her lap. She had to see the contents, so she could judge when the little ferret, Orphen, would be ready to receive it herself. The mouse read through the letter inside, quickly becoming absorbed by the words. In this letter, she saw the full scope of Elena's unconditional love for her child. Now she felt truly sorry for doubting the ferret before. In one fell swoop, this child and his mother changed Elenor's entire perception on vermin. The mouse was ashamed how narrow minded she was, having rarely left the orphanage since she herself was a child.
"You're very lucky," She said to the child still asleep in her arms, "to have a mother who loves you so much."
"Another one, I see?" The floors in the halls creaked, alerting Elena of the retired warrior.
"Rayhne." The otter appeared to have a history of battles, with the scars crossing over his cheeks, and a wide chip in his ear. It would have been hard to believe he was the caretaker of the orphanage, and the founder's descendant. And despite his grizzled appearance, Elenor knew he was one of the fairest individuals she ever knew. "It's a long story." She said, rocking the sleeping newborn.
"What's there to hear when there's nothing more to tell?" Rayhne approached to examine the new addition to Wellman's Orphanage, "Be they rescued from abuse, abandoned without a care, or violently deprived of their family. It all ends the same." His perceptions came crashing down when the cub he initially suspected to be a strange otter, was anything but. "I think I'm up for that long story."
And so Elenor retold the events. But worry began to fester within the mouse as she saw the unchanged expression in Rayhne's eyes.
"This is…" Rayhne deliberated, "I don't know."
"No, don't tell me you're going to send him to the Madrigal Houses." Elenor pleased the caretaker, "You know how the children are treated there."
"I don't want to." Rayhne stated his point, "But it's not up to me. It's the law. All vermin and good beast children are to be segregated. It's the only way to insure no incidents occur."
"What do you mean by incidents? The only thing I'm seeing is budget cuts. And people wonder why the children turn out so bad. " Elena scoffed, "Besides, we're far beyond Madrigal's reach. They don't have to know."
"It's not that." Rayhne explained, "I'm not trained for these kinds of situations. I wouldn't know how to raise his kind properly."
"This baby is not a situation." Elenor disapproved how Rayhne labelled the child, "Orphen is just like any other child. We raise him no different from the others. That's all there is to it."
"Wait, who did you just say?" Rayhne puzzled.
"Orphen." Elenor gestured to the sleeping child.
"You named him that?" Rayhne was in bemused disbelief.
"His mother did."
"His-?" This was unbelievable, most vermin children were abandoned were never bothered to be given names, "So did she come up with that out of the blue when she looked at our place?"
"No!" Fed up with Rayhne's persistence, Elenor handed to him the letter, hoping it would change his mind, "Just take a look at this."
"Oh." Rayhne frowned as he snatched the envelope from her pockets. "I really want to see what her excuse was for leaving their own son…" his words were put on hold as he begun reading the lines. Slowly, the cynicism in his eyes faded away as he delved deeper into the letter. A look of understanding washed over him as he considered the words, "I'll see what I can do for him."
"You mean we're keeping him?"
"This is a dying request." Rayhne waved the letter, "I'm sorry Elenor, I thought she was just making things up so she can leave him here. But this…she died for this child."
"Oh." Elenor took time to absorb the revelation. "Well…" Suddenly, she took the breath out of the otter as she unexpectingly swung her apron over his head. "So while make little Orphen get acquainted with his new home, I'm putting you in charge of the laundry hamper. So best of luck!"
"But I don't even know how to-." Rayhne tried to protest, but noticed the laundry basket distending from his stomach, "Oh, thank the heavens everyone's asleep."
Elena almost didn't care anymore if they heard her; she just wanted to cry so badly. But she argued there was always time to weep in the afterlife. Morning broke the night skies, returning light to the country. In addition, the heavy storms finally passed, leaving silence in the air. These welcoming sights were but taxing plights for Elena. There was no darkness to shroud her, no rain to deafen her sounds or to wash away the red trail she left from her wounds.
"Now that's odd. There's no more blood. Her footprints stopped too."
Elena didn't dare look from her hiding place. She remained as she was, laying face down under a shrubbery. Her body was completely covered in mud to blend in with the ground.
"Wait! I think I can see a speck of her blood on those bushes ahead."
Elena tried not to move, hoping it wasn't her hiding spot the weasel was speaking of. Her fears turned to relief as she listened (missing word?) her pursuers walk past where she laid.
"That's weird." Quizzed the pine marten again, "Her blood is here, but not her footprints."
"Aye." Noted his weasel companion; "She knows how to cover her tracks behind her if she had the time. But I guess she forgot to account about her injuries."
This was half true; Elena had to learn several things if she expected to survive. But even she didn't know how to cover her trail in the mud. This was why earlier she had flung her bloody paw forward, creating a fake trail for her pursuers to follow. Slowly, Elena crawled out from under the bush as quietly as she could. Whilst behind a tree, she inspected her pursuers one last time. They moved on further away, following her false trail. Slowly, she backed away, keeping an eye on the two. If Elena was lucky, she may be able to lose them for another day, buying her son a better chance. If she did get through this, she's resolved to travel southwards.
Her plans to mislead her chasers came to a blind hope when she found herself walking into the very reason she had been running. She froze, knowing who it was standing behind her. She barely fought as she was restrained firmly in one arm. It seemed to have robbed Elena of what little strength she had left. Her eyes showed horror, but her heart and breath only became faint.
"Hello Elena." Spoke the unseen ferret.
"Roth…"
The dark shadowed ferret raised his free arm, only to caress Elena's head with a gloved paw. But this only inspired tears to finally fall down Elena's cheeks, for she knew this gentle act was but a farce to his true nature.
"You took miserable." Roth continued, gazing at Elena's fear induced silence, "It saddens me to see you reduced to this."
She instinctively shut her eyes as Roth's paw traveled to her cheeks. He wiped as much mud away as he could, her tears helping with the process. "But you haven't been the only one who suffered all this time." Roth said, his voice becoming more malevolent, "You caused me many months of grief when you disappeared, adding another chapter to my miserable existence. I wanted to find you again so badly so I can rip our own child from your womb while you watch, for what you've done." Elena shivered as Roth's placed his palm below her chin, "But I'm alright now. It'd be ridiculous to hold a grudge for almost a year. Because seeing you like this, seeing what fate did to you, I know you suffered more than what I can ever do to you."
"It was…" escaped from Elena.
"What was that you said?" asked Roth, laying his chin down on one of Elena's shoulders.
"It was you who did this to me, not fate."
"Well, just goes to show what you did was a mistake." Roth replied, "But I rather we skip this banter. I doubt we can change each other's mind. No, what concerns me is that I still haven't found what I was truly looking for. From what I can see from your body…your beautiful body," He guided his paw to below her chest, reminding Elena of the same unsettling experience, "Our child has already been opened to the world, waiting to be found. Where is my child?"
"He's not your son." Elena spoke defiantly.
"Oh, so it's a boy." Roth sounded pleased by this, "Where is he?" he asked again.
"No…" although shaky, Elena remained strong in his presence.
"You're just making this hard on yourself." Roth's paw delved back below Elena's chin, "My offer still stands. Yes, his life will be miserable under my wing, but I promise that you'll be there with him, where you can teach him some semblance of decency."
"If anything, you'll raise him to kill me." Elena said back.
"Well, I can promise one thing at the very least." Said Roth, "If you don't tell me where he is, and I still find him," He warned her, "I will break him down. And you will watch from your afterlife as I make my son worthy of ruling hell itself. That's my intended plan for him, but I'm willing to hold back for your sake…Where. Is. He?"
"Even if I want to tell you, I can't." Elena replied, "Because even I don't know where he is anymore."
"What?" Roth's normally quiet tone exploded into rage.
"I gave him to someone a long time ago." She lied, "And I told that person to give our son to someone else, and to deliver him to someone else. Did you really think I'm that selfish to keep my son with me?" the passion in her eyes hid the lies in her words from Roth, "I didn't even give him a name when I gave him away. All this time you thought you were so close." She smiled, knowing that Roth bought the deceit. "But you've been following a husk these past few weeks."
"No! You lie!"
"You can torture me, like you did last time." Elena still smiled, "But my answer will still be the same, because it's the truth. You will never find him now; my son will have the normal life he deserves. And when you-."
Roth had enough, he reached up and jerked Elena's head sideways, twisting it far beyond what her neck could handle. Elena's entire body convulsed as the thread of her life was cut, but the shadowed male ferret made a quick effort to grab hold of her. But even so, Roth slowly sank to his knees, as if he regretted something in his actions. His actions became much more unpredictable as he folded his arms around Elena body into an embrace.
"You idiot…" Roth whispered quietly. "You idiot. He can't ever have a normal life; he'll never be able to. No matter what, one way or another something will awaken him. You…idiot." He buried his shadowed brow into Elena's blood matted body, "If I don't find him, fate will. And it will make his life more miserable than I can ever do to him…!"
Leaves rustled as several of Roth's followers emerged behind him. Most of them were surprised at the sight of their leader letting his emotional guard let down. But they all stood at attention when they saw Roth glance to them. "Bury her." He commanded them.
"Wait, you actually want her buried?" asked the inadequate rat, Loy.
"She may have been a fool." Roth muttered, turning to the rat, "But she deserves this respect for the commitment she showed for her child."
"But my lord." Loy protested, "We don't have any shovels. How are supposed to-." The rat's complaints ended up forfeiting his life. His compatriots backed away from him as Roth advanced on him. In one fell swoop, Roth executed the poor rat in the same manner he did to Elena.
"It's something called your claws." Roth stated to the corpse below him, and indirectly to his surviving followers. "The ground will be much softer since it rained. So I suggest you get to work before it dries up."
While some of them went to work to collect Elena's body, two of the cloaked followers tried to reach down to pick up Loy's corpse, but were halted by Roth's strict paw. "No, don't spare him the luxury of a grave. But do drag that thing as far away from here as possible. I don't want its presence to spoil this ground."
"There is still your son to account for." One of his hooded followers, Roth's second in command dared to speak, though he did raise a good point, "If what she said is true, it would be virtually impossible even for our resources to find him."
"No," Roth took one last look at Elena, "she was lying. She had to be. Remind me again, when was the last sightings of Elena with her son."
"Six days ago, at the tavern." Replied the hooded officer, "Pardon my doubts, but the report could've been inconclusive. The mouse was stoic when we interrogated him, he could've misled the date."
"Unlikely." Roth stated, "For now, let us work under the assumption that Elena desperately gave my son to the first person she found during the storm." He called his remaining followers to attention, "Have any one of you come across any sort of dwelling when you combed the forests? Kerwin, Jaelith. Report."
The marten and weasel froze as they were addressed, "No one." The weasel reported, "Except for maybe the tavern you mentioned, and the windmill two more days back. But our hidden sentries would've-."
"That's quite enough." Roth silenced the marten, then turned to the others, "Goth, Neywell."
"Nothing sir." They spoke unanimously.
Lastly, he turns to a lone rat, minus his late partner Loy, "Tesh?"
"N-." the rat considers, "No."
"You," Roth was very observant of the rat's pause, "you hesitated there for a minute."
"No!" Geth shook his head wildly, "I saw nothing."
"Don't lie to me." Roth smiled, at which point the rat knew the ferret was anything but happy.
"Well…" he may as well just spill it out, "The thing is, that I kind of got lost, and ended up in a big field."
"Oh." Roth would have left it at that, but the scared rat sealed his fate with his next words.
"But there was a building in the centre of it all."
"What?" the ferret nearly exclaimed his outrage. "Why didn't you tell me when we rendezvous?" And Tesh, not knowing why his leader was so angry, gave his best answer.
"It was an orphanage." The rat stammered, "She never would've dropped her kid off. We were too close behind her, so I figured tha-KIRK-!"
All of a sudden, the rat's vision turned to black, followed by the most excruciating amount of pain a person could ever experience in a second, before Roth's fingertips literally dug into his mind.
"It's incompetent things like you that made such a simple task drag for this long." Roth said to the corpse, the rat's head being held by his thumbs.
Elenor wiggled her fingers over the Orphen's crib, encouraging the baby to reach for her paw. Although the baby was willing to interact with her, Elenor recognized worry in the ferret's eyes, this being his very first day without his mother. Elenor was astonished however, that the baby was brave enough not to cry the first thing he woke up.
Rayhne stood by the windows, overseeing the multitude of children set loose to play in the fields. Occasionally, he would take a glance back to see Orphen. For most part, his eyes were fixed on the gates.
"A little fidgety isn't he?" he noticed the child's discomfort.
"I think he can recognize that I'm not his mother." Elenor replied, distracting the baby.
"I'm surprised he hasn't forgotten her already."
Elenor stopped her idle play, giving Rayhne a hard, accusing state, "You know, it's that kind of talk that turns people into what you expect them to be."
"I'm sorry." Rayhne apologized, struggling to overcome his upbringing, "It's just that – let's face it. We are endangering everyone here because of him. It's not his fault, but I do not want the other children to suffer because I tried to be kind to everyone."
"Rayhne, some of our children already have people thirsting for their blood, bounties even. How is Orphen any different?"
"No, those are bandits, nothing I can't handle. But this…" He glanced at Orphen, seeing something beyond the innocent youth, "I don't think I'll be able to protect us if the people after this boy are who I think they are." He turned back to the window, his gaze narrowing at a new sight, "And it seems I was right."
"What?" the mouse shot up in alarm, recognizing the dark change in Rayhne's tone.
"Does anyone else know about Orphen?"
"No." Elenor replied, scooping the little ferret in her arms. "Just about everybody was asleep when we bought him here."
"Good." This made things much easier for Rayhne, "I want you to bring him to my quarters, you know about the hiding place behind my mirror, you stay there until I come get you."
"What about you?"
"I'll try to throw them off." The otter planned, "Act like the bigot I am. Shouldn't be too hard."
Fiona didn't understand why Rayhne announced, or rather, ordered all the children to go play outside after the rain. This wasn't like him, he never approves of children caking themselves in mud. Her task was to monitor the children, grimacing as some of them literally rolled in the puddles to out-dirty each other. This was going to be hell for her wiping all those feet before they can come back inside.
Her objections were placed aside when she spotted a larger problem in the distance. New figures appeared from the forests, none looking friendly at all, or even woodlander.
"Get inside." She ushered all the children, "Everyone, get back inside!" Most of the orphans didn't need to be told as they ran back to their safe haven. Fiona herded the children as best she could, no longer caring the mess they would make inside, their safety was her top concern.
She counted all heads, mentally marking the children's names as they ran back to the orphanage. But when the line had finished, worry swept over her. Someone was missing
"Look at that, they've got children playing outside. They wouldn't do that if they knew we were coming."
"We still have to look inside."
"Captain." The pine marten felt safer now that's away from Roth's presence, "If I may."
"Go ahead." The hooded superior regarded Mazda.
"Why isn't Lord Roth investigating this place himself? If he's so sure, why stay behind?"
"The thing is, he isn't even supposed to be here. He cannot risk anyone discovering his connection to Elena. Someone may piece things together, and at that point it would be impossible to contain. Wet works can only achieve so much. No one can know he has a son, not until the right time to strike."
"Be to honest. I'm glad he didn't come." Said the weasel, "Whenever he does, he orders us to leave no witnesses. I mean," he covered his eyes, failing to clock the flashing memories. "The last time, he made the child watch his parents die. And then he made the kid kill himself. A child. That isn't normal. Roth didn't have to do that!"
"Then be glad that's all you've seen." Marked the captain, "I can no longer have a peaceful night thanks to him. Just do as he asks, and hope that all you'll have is nightmares for the rest of your life."
"Still, for a psychotic monster," an elderly fox nudged the captain, "there's a sick logic behind his madness."
The fox broke away from the group, walking up to a little hedgehog standing alone in the field, the only that was too frightened to run. The dibbun couldn't move. His eyes fixed on the source of his trauma. The old fox reached out, demonstrating his point by patting the dibbun on the head. "What? You thought I was going to eat you?"
"Jarric, look out!"
The rumbling ground gave the fox ample warning of the child's protector. He was wise to back away, curbing Fiona's desire to rake her claws through him.
"Don't you dare touch him!" the badger crouched, her arm crossed protectively in front of the child.
Several of the trackers immediately grasped their concealed weapons, but were ordered to stand down by the wave of the captain's paw, preventing a disaster from happening.
"No, don't give her a reason."
The captain walked ahead, signalling the others to stay where they were.
"See what I mean?" asked the smug fox.
"Not now." The captain stated firmly, before addressing the badger modestly, "I'm sorry for that. My name is-."
"Get out!" The badger snarled.
"…No ma'am. I don't believe my name is Getout." The captain tried to joke, but saw that it didn't avail. "I assure you, my friend here meant no harm."
"Good." Fiona wasn't the least convinced, "But it would help more if all of you get out of my sight."
"Gladly, if the caretaker of this establishment would answer a few questions." The captain pushed the badger's limits.
"We don't answer to your kind." Fiona decided to stand, trying to intimidate the captain.
"Then that shouldn't be a problem." Finally, the captain reached to unfurl his hood, replacing the badger's wary expression into that of shock, even wiping the trance from the dibbuns eyes.
"I…I don't…" Fiona was at lost. Never in her life would she ever expect a good beast to be associating with the likes of vermin.
"I'll take it from here." Rayhne tapped Fiona's arm, motioning her to carry the child to safety.
"But Rayhne." Fiona objected, not wanting to leave the caretaker alone.
"I got it." The otter assured her. Once he sent her off, he engaged the visitors, "From the looks of you, I doubt you're not looking to adopt a child."
"If you rephrase the question. Then yes, we are." Replied the captain, "Listen, I'll get straight to the point because time is short. We are here on official business."
"And does that somehow involve indoctrinating our youths under your wings?"
The captain brushed off the insult, "There is a fugitive in the surrounding areas. It's mandatory we comb the area."
"What did he do?" Rayhne kept a stoic demeanour when the captain stared straight at him in the eyes, looking for anything inconsistent between his expressions and claims.
"She." The captain clarified. "And I'm afraid we can't divulge much information on the fugitive's offence."
"Does this fugitive happen to be a child then?" Rayhne verbally prodded the captain, "You want her head for stealing a cookie?"
"Okay!" the agitation got to one of the captain's subordinates, "You're really starting to-."
"The suspect is a ferret." The captain kept things on topic, "She is in possession of a baby which happens to be our…client's as well. She is denying him equal possession of his son."
"That sounds like a messed up family." Rayhne remarked.
"You don't know the half of it." Said the weasel.
"Well," Rayhne began his charade, "I don't see why you're bothering me to ask about this ferret. I doubt you'll believe me if it's anything other than yes."
"I see your scepticism." Said the captain, "But please, take caution with this lady. She tends to place herself in a sympathetic light before kind woodlanders. She'll do anything to survive."
The otter nearly scoffed at the captain's claims, considering the ferret did quite the opposite. "As I said, you're wasting your time. Besides, it'd be stupid of her to come to a place like this."
"Actually, that's what we assumed during the first months, but that's how she threw us off. It's very likely she came here. Especially considering."
Rayhne was very worried how the captain phrased the last sentence. Did he know? "How so?"
"I rather not digress any further." The captain raised his paws modestly, "Hear me out, please. If you would kindly let us investigate your building. We promise not to lay a claw on any of the children."
Rayhne took a defensive stance, and rightfully so, "I need an approval for a search warrant from Madrigal."
At that reply, the captain's smile disappeared as his suspicions stirred, "We are above those people."
"Well, then I see no reason to let you in."
The captain turned around, looking beyond his comrades, into the trees. Fear arose when he saw the look of disapproval amongst the leaves. "Alright, that's it." He had enough of these games.
"You listen to me very carefully." The captain's cheery tone regressed to threatening, "Because I'm only going to say this one. If you make me turn back right now, someone else is going to step out of those forests. And he's not going to stop to smug words or bureaucracy. Whether or not the child is here, he will massacre every person here just for the hell of it. He'll make the children watch as he kills the people who took care of them. He will make the children kill each other. But he will leave you alive, watching through the very end." For the first time in years, Rayhne felt horrified, "I am not bluffing sir. He has done it. But I do not want this on my conscience. If you let me in, and you are telling the truth, he might just let you live."
Rayhne seemed to deliberate for a long time, long enough to try the captain's patience. "Alright. But you come alone."
"You're not like the others." Rayhne asked, as the captain inspected the empty crib, "How did you end up with them?"
"The better question is, why did I stay?" the captain ratified, proceeding to the next room "I try to preserve what they used to stand for. What they could've been proud for."
"Those days are long gone. Ever since he snuffed it out."
"You know about that?" the captain asked.
"Who else is capable of committing those threats of yours?"
For the next half hour, the captain's search went on silently, but thorough. Much to Rayhne's chagrin, the tracker interviewed some of the orphans, but with no results. Finally, when they came before a certain door.
"This is my room." Rayhne objected, grasping the handle before the captain could.
"I haven't torn down any mattresses all this time, have it?" The captain pressed down on the otter's paw, opening the door much to Rayhne's chagrin.
At first the captain made a short circle around the room, just as he always had. Rayhne began to stiffen as the captain opened his drawers, reaching inside for something out of sight. He inspected behind a bookcase, before pulling the novels and texts one by one. The worst was when the captain trailed his paw across the walls, stopping at the slightest crack in the paint. That was when Rayhne realized that the captain knew, somehow, he knew. Desperate, Rayhne tried his last option.
"Please." Rayhne tried to appeal to the captain, "Don't toy with me like this. You already know."
"Know about what?" the captain feigned an innocent smile, "The fact that you hid her tracks? And had the children play outside so their's can cover the barren patch? The others didn't see it, but I did."
"How could you do this?" Rayhne demanded, "How could you condemn this child, knowing that doing that will bring another generation of madness to this country?"
"Now I never mentioned that." The captain paused for a moment, "…you're one of them. Aren't you?"
Against all reason, Rayhne lunged at the provoker, ramming the captain into the wall by his throat. "Shut up."
Despite the vice on his air pipe, the captain continued to sputter his taunts, "Yes, I can see it now. The eyes of a survivor."
"Shut up."
"I knew it. You wouldn't have taken the boy in. Anyone in your position wouldn't have trusted her, no matter how much she would have begged. Not unless you knew the baby meant something important."
"Shut up."
"And you dare think of me as scum? Well let me tell you, you're no different from us. We would raise him to take the path of demons as is meant to be, but you want to make him a slave for your own purposes. The only difference is you painted his chains white."
"You shut your mouth right now!" The otter slammed the captain's head against the wall again. The noise of the scuffle roused an infant's cry from his hiding place, but the farce had long been revealed. "This land was at peace, before Roth changed everything. The balance has been broken, and there's no way to bring it back."
"Then why? Why do you keep protecting him?" the captain demanded.
"Because," Rayhne's voice suddenly became soft, for the sake of the baby, "he deserves to make his own path."
"You're sure about this." Roth spoke quietly, his words laced with discontent.
"I have searched everywhere, believe me sir." The captain patted his chest, emphasizing the truth, "I prodded the sacks. I felt the walls and floorboards. I even looked inside a cooking pot that could've fit a child. The caretaker let me inspected everywhere I wished, knowing I would waste my time."
"No. You had to have missed something." The ferret went in anguish denial.
"My lord." The captain raised his arms, "The tenant had a secret room in his quarters, but it was vacant. I'm…I'm sorry." He bowed with his arms still outstretched, expecting to be executed for his failure. For a moment Roth almost considered committing the deed, his claws just a hair from puncturing the captains' vitals. After hard consideration however, Roth pulled his arm away.
"No." Roth shook his head, "It couldn't be helped." He grumbled, struggling to keep his short temper contained. But amongst his inner fuming, an epiphany came to him, beaming his eyes. "Wait, this is perfect."
"What do you mean?" the weasel spoke on behalf of everyone, startled by the return of Roth's triumphant smile.
"The seeds of war have already been planted. Tragedy will then seek my son, awakening him for when that times. But try as he might, he will fail, and will be swimming in the blood of everyone he ever cared for. He'll be begging me to take him in." Roth had his paws half clenched, as if holding an invisible point no one can see, "So you see, it all works out. So you've delayed things further Elena, no problem, I can wait."