Otto XII


Dawn crept up on the encampment slowly. Only a sliver of sunlight graced the plateau at first, but the rest of the sun gradually emerged from behind the mountain peaks. Otto sat on a flat rock outside his tent, basking in the early morning sunlight. His sleep had been rather restless, so instead he had opted to go outside and wait for morning. Winter sat beside him on the ground, along with a few other wolves. From his position, Otto watched the rest of the camp gradually wake up.

His group had set up base on the plateaus beneath the mountain village, which the tribesmen had graciously lent to them. The mountain people had been generous with food and accommodations, going so far as to invite some of Otto's people into their village for dinner the previous night. Otto had politely declined, since he didn't want to be a burden on their food supply this close to winter. Besides, his own group had plenty of rations left to sustain them the rest of the journey home. However, Otto had taken them up on their offer to set up camp below their village.

The large flat plateau was a welcome change from camping on steep cliff sides and migration routes, which were frequented by all sorts of wild creatures. By all rights, Otto should have been able to sleep easier than most nights. . . and yet he found himself awake. It's my nerves acting up. I should get moving to shake the dread away. Otto begrudgingly climbed off his rock and stretched for a few minutes, then headed off to make a circuit around the perimeter of the campground. A few of his wolves perked up and trailed behind him as they customarily did whenever he went somewhere. The others would likely still be here resting by the time he got back.

In truth, Otto wasn't sure what to make of the Mountain Hermit. He was completely surprised to find that someone had the same ability as him, but any answers she had given him the last they met had only been replaced by more burning questions. Otto wasn't sure what the Hermit wanted from him this time around, but he suspected it wasn't good news. In either case, he tried to keep his questions straight in his mind. The last time the Hermit had offhandedly made some comment about Otto not being ready to hear the answers to his questions. He hoped things were different this time. Not much time had passed since they spoke, but regardless of whatever change might have occurred over that period, the Hermit seemed to urgently need his presence. She had gone through the trouble of seeking Otto out and inviting her to this village, presumably near where she lived. Now was only a matter of getting the answers he wanted.

Otto had already spoken with the Chief of the mountain tribe the previous day, a tall and powerfully built warrior named Bertholdt. Otto judged the Chief to be a fair and honest man during the short conversation they had shared; a good candidate to form an alliance with. Unfortunately, political discussions would need to wait until Otto had received the knowledge he had come seeking. Bertholdt knew very little about the Mountain Hermit, as she was a mystery even to the mountain people; however, his tribe respected and feared her for the immense power she commanded. Only rarely did the mountain folk interact with the enigmatic woman but whenever they did, they listened carefully and reverently to whatever she said. Through experience they had learned that it was best to follow whatever advice she gave them, as it would lead the tribe to good fortune in the coming seasons.

Otto learned that Bertholdt had only recently succeeded his predecessor as the chieftain of his tribe a few years ago, and so he had very little experience with the Mountain Hermit. However, he made sure to comply with her orders and take whatever sage counsel she offered. Bertholdt's tribe had avoided catastrophe by following the woman's words in the past, and so he was determined to uphold good relations with the Mountain Hermit. From what Otto gathered, the old woman called a nearby mountain peak home, and Bertholdt had offered to personally guide Otto and a small group to meet her. The hermit was of the nomadic sort, well known to frequent different mountain villages all across the region. She didn't stay in any one place long, but she did claim a few isolated caves as her temporary homes. The Hermit was also frequently seen with three animals; a wolf, a sabertooth, and an argentavis. She was presumably able to take control over any of her companions, much the same way Otto could see through Winter.

Otto was intrigued by the fact that the woman could control not one, but three animals. He already had enough trouble mastering his connection with Winter. Adding two more creatures into the mix would only complicate things further. Otto assumed the old woman had gained her immense power through time and effort, and so he hoped to one day master his own abilities in a similar fashion. It was just another one of the questions Otto so desperately wanted answered.

By the time Otto finished his lap around the camp circumference, the sun was well above the mountain peaks and the camp was coming alive with the smells of food. Otto's stomach growled. Apparently his body didn't want sleep, but it was still hungry for food. After getting his bearings, the Wolf Lord made his way back to the tent he shared with Willam. It was impossible to miss, since Argentum was curled up nearby and the tyrannosaurus was practically the size of a small hill. Otto was pleased to discover the old man had already gotten a meal cooking over their campfire. Willam smiled at Otto and beckoned him to sit, striking up a conversation about their plans for the day.

Two dodo eggs were sizzling over the metal pan, steeped in the grease of a venison slab. A few wild herbs such as mountain chives and leeks were sprinkled over the protein, giving the meal a pleasant touch of the fading summer. Willam absentmindedly attended to the fire as he spoke. Otto smiled and nodded along, but the dread from before had returned to his stomach. His thoughts were elsewhere as he ate, and he barely noticed the delicious food that he otherwise would have savoured. Nonetheless, Otto was able to appreciate the simplistic beauty of camping. It brought back pleasant memories from his first days on the Island, something that living in a snug stone castle could never replicate. Although the chambers he shared with Jeyne were warm and cozy, there was just something different about living out here in the world. Otto was also glad to be spending time with Willam again. He had missed the old man's company ever since moving to the Hotspring Hold and leaving Willam behind to govern the Wolf's Den. The only thing that could have completed his nostalgic feelings were if Joseph was also here, but his friend was off in the south. Otto felt a pang of guilt for taking the peaceful morning for granted, while others like Joseph were constantly surrounded by peril and fearing for their lives. Otto wasn't even sure if Joseph was still alive, or if he had been captured by enemy forces. It had been a few weeks since the Lord of Open Hearth had departed to investigate the tribes to the south, and nobody had heard back from him. Otto quickly murmured a silent prayer for the health of his friend before getting up to prepare for the day.

Bertholdt and a group of seven mountain tribesmen met them at the base of the plateau. No special mounts were needed, since the journey would be a fairly straightforward climb up an established trail. Otto's party consisted of himself, Alysanne, Willam, and a handful of wolves. They left the majority of their forces, including Argentum and the rest of the wolfpack, back at the camp. There was no need for all of them to accompany Otto on his way up, especially since the Mountain Hermit had only requested for the presence of Alys, Willam, and himself.

After the two groups convened by the plateau, they made their way up a discreet mountain trail together, with Bertholdt leading the way. Otto walked alongside the tribe chieftain and they had a pleasant conversation about the histories of their respective tribes. It appeared that the village was named Stoneglen and they had been founded a dozen years ago. They were considered one of the younger mountain tribes, yet even then they were well-respected by their neighbours for their ingenuity and strong prowess in combat.

"What of the other tribes?" Otto asked. Curiosity got the better of him, since he knew little of the other mountain clans.

"We mountain folk usually keep to ourselves," Bertholdt admitted. "But the nearest tribes vary greatly in their skills and talents. Some partly rely on agriculture, trying to grow what little crops they can in these harsh conditions. Others raise livestock like goats and taurus. Still, the one trait that binds us all together is hunting and foraging. Any man, woman or child of the mountains can hold their own in the wilderness."

"A very boastful feat," Otto mused. "It seems as if my people would do well to learn from yours, and develop more resiliency of our own."

Bertholdt laughed. "Hard places grow hard people, and that's not always for the better. Still. In time you'll adapt to our ways. How long ago has it been since your people moved into the mountains?"

"We've been preparing the base for over a month, but the bulk of our forces only moved in two weeks ago. Anything we should be aware of, now that we've committed to this huge leap of faith?"

Bertholdt mused on the question for a few moments. "I'd advise you to establish yourselves as a formidable opponent. Some of the other mountain tribes detest weakness. Stay strong if you want to survive."

"You speak of very concerning matters. Are these neighbouring tribes of yours any danger?"

"Some, yes. However, my tribe personally hasn't seen any conflict. We keep to our own region and the others leave us alone. Most likely, they'll do the same to you as long as you don't provoke them."

That sparked Otto's curiosity. "Do mountain tribes fight each other often?"

"There are a few territory skirmishes every now and again, but I think most of us have realized that conflict only weakens both parties involved. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, that's the old saying."

"Wise words. Thank you for the advice. I'll keep it in mind moving forward." Otto smiled.

"Anything to help a fellow survivor out." Bertholdt returned his smile.

Just as they were turning the corner, Otto caught a glimpse of dark black fur. He froze as a massive sabertooth leapt onto a boulder up ahead. The cat crouched there, perfectly unmoving. Its fierce green eyes seemed to bore into his very soul. There was something different about the cat's behaviour, something uncannily human-like about its stare. This must be the Mountain Hermit's sabertooth, Otto reflected. She may be here to monitor our progress.

Otto glanced uneasily at Bertholdt. The normally forthright chieftain seemed just as apprehensive, regarding the cat cautiously. Otto noticed that the sabertooth was staring directly at Bertholdt, as if expectantly waiting for him to do something.

"What does she want?" Otto asked.

Bertholdt didn't answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the sabertooth. With a deep growl, the large mountain predator lashed its tail forcefully. That seemed to shake Bertholdt out of his trance. The chieftain steeled himself for whatever was to come, his expression shifting into one of fierce determination. Bertholdt pivoted to block the path leading further up the mountain. With his back to the sun, the chief's looming figure cast a long shadow down onto the rest of the travelling party.

Otto instinctively drew back a step. "What is the meaning of this, Bertholdt?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to advance any further. Turn back now or there will be bloodshed."

Otto noticed the other mountain tribesmen getting poised to spring into action, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. The black sabertooth seemed smugly satisfied. It leapt up a small landslide of boulders, perching on a ledge above to watch with keen interest. Otto cursed. Alys had been quick to react and had already drawn her blade, but even then they were outnumbered. Willam was no fighter and besides, only Winter, Artemis, and Eclipse were with them; three direwolves and two humans against eight well armed warriors. It would not bode well for them if it came down to blows.

"This was completely unwarranted," Otto growled. "We came here to see the Hermit. You knew this and yet you led us this far up the mountain anyway."

"As I said, I'm sorry it had to come to this, but I have my orders. If you wish to leave, then turn around and we will let you go unharmed. If you seek to continue up. . ." Bertholdt grabbed his sword hilt. "Then only one of us walks away alive."

"What treachery is this?" Otto demanded. "You said you would take us to the Mountain Hermit."

"And that I did. However, not just anyone can get a free audience with her. She made that abundantly clear, and I'm not one to go against her words. You must prove yourself worthy of the wisdom you seek."

Otto was fuming with anger. "Then it's a fight you'll have."

"I'd advise you to think carefully," Bertholdt said. Otto couldn't be sure if he was seeing correctly, but the chieftain almost seemed reluctant, as if he truly meant what he said. Bertholdt quickly masked his expressions behind a neutral stone face. "As per tradition, we will fight to the death."

Otto paused, trying to gauge his opponent. Bertholdt seemed to be silently willing him to turn back, but he kept his true thoughts firmly sealed behind an icy facade. Otto narrowed his eyes at the sabertooth sitting above them. I don't think this is Bertholdt's doing. He's trying to warn me to escape. . . but I came this far. I can't give up. He shook his head and silently cursed the Mountain Hermit. I'll play your games for now. . . but make no mistake, if I walk out of this alive there will be retribution.

Otto stuck out his chest defiantly. "If I agree to your terms, my own life is fair game. But I can't gamble on the lives of my companions. Promise me they will be allowed to leave unharmed if I should lose."

"Only one of us needs to die. Your friends are in no danger," Bertholdt promised despondently. "However, I expect you to uphold the same bargain and spare my men, should you win."

"Agreed." Otto shrugged off his cloak and rolled his shoulders. He could already feel his legs going cold. Otto was afraid he would completely forget how to move when it came time to duel.

Alys stepped forward to grab his arm. "Otto, you can't be serious about this."

"We can always find another solution," Willam agreed. "Do the sensible thing and back down."

Even Winter growled and tugged at the hem of his shirt, as if asking Otto to reconsider his actions. The other direwolves seemed just as tense as their alpha. Artemis and Eclipse crouched hesitantly, eyeing the mountain men a few feet away.

Otto shook his head. "You mean well but I need to do this. Stay out of the way."

Alys and Willam continued protesting, but Winter seemed to accept that Otto had set his mind on this. The direwolf was his oldest friend and they knew each other well enough to understand when it was impossible to dissuade each other from doing something. Besides, combat was a deep-seated aspect of direwolf tradition. Wolves fought each other all the time to settle disputes, and even Winter himself had spilled blood in the name of retaking his father's pack. If anyone knew what Otto was about to go through, it was Winter. The alpha direwolf bowed his head against Otto's chest, then turned to drive the Alys and Willam out of the way. Artemis and Eclipse also brushed against Otto as a sign of respect before clearing the path and sitting beside Winter.

When Otto turned back, he saw that Bertholdt's men had vacated to the opposite side of the path, leaving the gravel clearing free. The chieftain shrugged his cloak onto the floor and stepped forward to meet Otto in the center of the path.

Otto unsheathed Frostbite. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His eyes flared open and he raised the sword. "Let it begin."

Bertholdt nodded and lunged forward, his blade flashing straight for Otto's neck. The Wolf Lord pivoted to parry the blow. Otto thought he had been prepared for the impact, but he couldn't have been more wrong. When their two blades clashed, it was all Otto could do to remain on his feet. The blow knocked all the air from his lungs and he reeled backwards. But there was no time to breathe, for Bertholdt was upon him again, raining down a flurry of savage blows.

None of Otto's sparring practice had prepared him for a fight like this, where it was life or death for both combatants involved. Blunted training swords could never compare to the razor-sharp steel that Otto and Bertholdt held, nor could the rhythmic back and forth motions of two dueling partners compare to the chaotic frenzy of lunging, twisting, and dodging found in a real sword fight. Otto desperately struggled to deflect his opponent's blade from his body, fighting to gain the slightest respite. Bertholdt never let him have that rest. The powerful man kept pressing Otto back with his two-handed sword strokes, trying to make a quick end of the fight.

Otto kept backpedaling, desperate to distance himself from his relentless attacker. Whenever he was in danger of getting forced onto the rough terrain outside of the gravel path, he pivoted around Bertholdt back to the center of the clearing. Again and again, the mountain chieftain darted forward, and Otto would always respond by parrying his sword and scurrying back. I need to tire him out, Otto had time to think. Then I can turn the fight around. He blocked another blow aimed for his neck, but Bertholdt had been expecting that. The warrior suddenly twisted his sword downward.

Otto cried out as the blade dug into his chest, searing through his layers of fur and leather armor. There was no time to check the injury, but fortunately he could tell it was not too deep. The blade had only grazed his chest — yet even then it still stung. Otto gritted his teeth, refusing to let himself die like this. Yet even as he reeled from the strike, he glimpsed a new opportunity. Bertholdt had left his own defenses wide open by overextending the attack.

Otto counterattacked by closing the distance between them and thrusting his sword at Bertholdt's heart. Frostbite lusted for blood. The blade glimmered white and blue as it flashed toward the chieftain, but got deflected at the very last instant. Bertholdt barely managed to get his sword up in time. Otto twisted again, this time swinging from the left. Again, Bertholdt parried the blow aside, but Otto could tell that his movements were becoming slower and heavier every time. The chieftain had overexerted himself in the beginning, trying to make quick work of the fight, while Otto had stayed on the defensive conserving his own energy.

The Wolf Lord sprang forward with renewed vigour. He could sense that Bertholdt was growing weak, while Otto himself only felt himself getting stronger. He had never felt more alive. Blood rushed through his veins and his muscles burned with a reassuring strength. Frostbite darted forward again and again. Left. Right. Overhead. Now it was Bertholdt's turn to scramble away in fear for life. As Otto advanced, he noticed a cluster of rocks behind the chieftain. He mustered up his strength and charged with a thunderous battlecry, Frostbite raised high.

Bertholdt's eyes widened in shock and he tried to back away — only for his foot to snag rock and send him crashing onto his back. There was no time for the chieftain to escape. All he could do was raise his blade in self defense.

When Otto slammed Frostbite down, there was the slightest instant where all his weight strained against Bertholdt's upraised sword. But the earthly weapon was no match for Otto's meteor-forged steel. Frostbite snapped the blade right in half. Momentum carried Frostbite forward, shearing a huge chunk of Bertholdt's ear off and lodging the icy sword into his shoulder. The near-fatal blow had just barely missed his head.

There was a moment of stunned silence where both combatants stared at each other wide-eyed, breathing heavily. It was at that moment that Otto knew he had won. He wrenched Frostbite free. Scarlet red blood ran down the length of the sword, pooling at the tip before dripping down onto the gravel below. Otto finally had a moment to catch his breath and look around. All the onlookers seemed equally as shocked. The mountain warriors watched on helplessly as their chieftain lay bleeding on the floor. Alys and Willam looked scared, but also relieved that Otto had emerged as the victor. Winter and the wolves stared at the scene with rapt attention and reverence. Otto exhaled a sigh of relief and turned back to his defeated opponent.

"Kill me and let it be done," Bertholdt said between ragged breaths. "You have won."

Otto raised Frostbite obligingly but something stopped him from bringing the blade down. Otto was no stranger to death. He had killed countless times before. . . but this time was completely different. Otto had previously only killed animals, and it had always been in the name of survival. As Otto stared down at his helpless unarmed foe, he found that he could not bring himself to take a human life.

Even if Bertholdt had betrayed his trust, he did not deserve to die. Otto knew deep down that the chieftain was an honest man, who took no pride in deceit. He had only misled Otto because of some strange tradition the Mountain Hermit forced onto him. Otto found himself questioning the reasoning behind this whole mess. Why did that old crone even summon me all the way here? What does she want from me? Otto found himself growing angry again. Was this all some sick test? In what world do I need to kill another human being, just to talk to some shrivelled old woman in a cave?

Otto threw Frostbite down. The blade clattered as it went still. Bertholdt looked up at him curiously, as did all the other bystanders. Otto drew himself upright. "If this Mountain Hermit wants to see me so badly, then she will. But on my terms. Knowledge shouldn't have to come at the price of blood, and I will not kill this man to buy passage into the mountains."

"Nothing comes free in this world, my friend," A familiar voice called from the distance. Otto glanced up to see the withered old crone standing atop a ledge beside her sabertooth. The Mountain Hermit smiled down at them. "You did well. Both of you. Bertholdt, go tend to your wounds and return to the village. I'll take over from here."

The chieftain nodded, a grim expression on his face. Two of his tribesmen quickly moved to help their leader up, while a third man brought wineskins to treat Bertholdt's wounds. Perhaps out of gratitude for sparing their chief, the mountain folk also gave Otto some wine to wash his own cut. He nodded thanks to them and had Willam help bandage his injuries up.

When he was patched up, he glanced back up the cliff. The Mountain Hermit beckoned Otto onward, and disappeared back over the ledge. Before Otto could follow, Bertholdt stopped him with a shout. "Otto. Thank you for sparing my life."

"It was the right thing to do," Otto said.

"Aye, but oftimes the right things to do are the hardest. Take care. We'll speak again."

The chieftain made his way back down the mountain, leaning on one of his men for support. Otto watched them depart with curiosity for a few moments before glancing back up the mountain. He looked to Alys and Willam.

"We've come this far. We're almost there," Willam reassured him.

"And soon we'll find out what this whole mess is really about," Alys scowled.

Otto could tell neither of them were too happy about the predicament either, but he nodded for their sake. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

The group ascended the mountain together, with the wolves guarding their flanks and back. They quickly caught up to the old woman, who was leisurely taking her time as she ascended the mountain, cane in hand. Her black sabertooth prowled on the outskirts of the trail, keeping pace with her by leaping over boulders and scampering over rocks. Otto's anger had not abated.

"What was the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Why make us come all this way, only to fight for your amusement? And Bertholdt. . . how long has he been in on this?"

"You should bear no ill will toward the chieftain. This was all my doing. He was merely doing as I asked of him."

"Then I ask again, what was this all for?" Otto seethed. Winter growled as well, only to be answered in kind by the black sabertooth. There was a tense instance where Otto thought it might come to blood.

"To know if you were worthy," the hermit replied.

"What exactly does a show of strength accomplish?"

"It was not a test of physical strength, but one of of moral character: you spared your helpless opponent."

Otto hadn't thought of it like that but nonetheless, he was still angry. "And what if I hadn't?"

"Then I would have turned you and your friends around and sent you home." They were at a cave now. The black sabertooth easily slipped into the shadows. The Hermit ducked inside and beckoned them in. "This way. I called you all here for a reason, and you shall know why."

Otto exchanged a wary glance with Willam and Alys before following the hermit inside. Otto took in his surroundings once his eyes adjusted to the gloomy lair. A small fire was gasping for breath in the center of the cave, surrounded by a few round stones. In the back of the cave was some hay bedding, along with a pile of bones being guarded by a wary direwolf. The beast glared at Otto's wolves cautiously as they entered the cave. He noticed that the sabertooth had leapt onto a ledge above, sulking in the gloom.

The hermit took a seat and began tending to the fire. Otto claimed a seat opposite from her, and Willam and Alys took up spots on either of his flanks. The old woman made sure the fire was roaring before turning back to them. "You may be wondering why I summoned you here."

"Some answers would be nice," Alys muttered.

The old crone ignored her. "The Island granted me a vision of things to come. My time is almost up and I was unable to bring about any lasting changes in my lifetime. . . But the future is yours and you have the power to make change."

"You. . . had a vision of the future?" Otto stared at her in disbelief.

"I did not trust my eyes at first either. But now," the Mountain Hermit gestured at the flames. "I'm certain of it. I see glimpses of what is to come. Brief flashes of colour and blurry faces. Among them are yours."

"What is it that you have seen?" Willam prompted quietly. He was staring fixedly at the fire, as if he too might see something foretelling in the flames.

The old crone smiled. "The visions are a chaotic mess. But one face I have glimpsed throughout it all is yours, Wolf Lord."

"Is that good or bad?" Otto said uneasily.

"Both. You have the potential to do great things; liberate the Island or destroy it. I've seen you at the head of a great army, but also alone and surrounded by enemies. You need to beware of the bloody chain and the deceitful turncloaks amidst your ranks. Keep your friends close and your wolf closer."

Before Otto had time to fully process what she had just said, the Mountain Hermit turned next to Alys.

"The angel of the skies. I've seen glimpses of your face too. You have a very important role to play in the wars ahead. Tread carefully, for if you take the wrong path, your fate will be worse than death."

Otto shivered. Every word that came out of the Hermit's voice made him dread the future more. He wished he could close his ears and block all her poisonous words out, but at the same time he also wanted to hear more. Could it be true? He still found it hard to believe that she had foreseen all these events but then again, if the Island had taught him anything, it was to suspend his disbelief of the impossible.

At last the old crone turned to Willam and sucked in a deep breath, her eyes filled with worry. "You birthed a titan into the world. Make no mistake, your charge is a dangerous creature and no ordinary pet. Should you lose control of the beast, your life will be forfeit."


Author's Note: Sorry this one took a while. I have no intention to stop making these but sometimes life has other plans.

Loremaster Endercreeper, haha great ASoIAF reference. That series is a fun read so definitely give it a shot if you haven't already. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on recent developments in this story, and more to come with the Protectors.

DinoNerd89, he would no doubt be a great asset but probably has no intention of joining our group. Anyway, I never really thought of it but Hawk could definitely be descended from that line.

Korskarn, lol valid point that was a slipup on my end. And yeah, I can't see anything in the night either without gamma-ing up.

SF Uberman, glad to hear you're enjoying this story! If you want to link your Deviantart below I'd be willing to take a look.

TheIckleBoots, I'm very much looking forward to reading the analysis on future fights :)) It's always very interesting to hear your thoughts. Anyway I'm glad to hear Keith made a big impact on you, not only as an antagonist but also a foil to Otto. Pretty impressive since he was only in a few scenes but I will say this - he definitely isn't dead. I'm also glad that you found Alysanne's character development interesting! And I'm sorry but no wyverns will be in this story. I'll admit, Argentavis aren't quite as impressive as Dany's three dragons, but I hope all my readers will grow to appreciate the other strategic uses Argentavis have. And to wrap this up, I'm happy to hear that my choice to split up the characters is upping the tension :) Stay tuned to see how it unfolds.

Thanks for taking the time to check out my work, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to comment, ask questions, or criticize my story, review is always welcome! If you liked what you saw, make sure to check out the other ARK stories on this site! Have a great day!

- DaRumpyBurr