AN:
BagofGarbage: Thanks for the review and to answer your question, yes Whiteheart does have family; he mentions an aunt and uncle in the second chapter, but he's a bit aloof and doesn't have many friends. Those he does have, will be introduced the next time we look in on him. As for your second question, you'll have to wait and see, though to give a bit of a hint, Martin's Vermin counterpart may or may not be around as well.
Interlude II: The Last Sorcerer
It was painful to wake up these days.
The magical source was drying up in the world, dreams and prophecies were all that was left.
Of course, he had plans to change this, plans to bring back the old ways, when sorcery was common. When It was used in great workings to shape and change the continents, specifically to split them apart.
That level of power would never again return, but he would, will all his dwindling might, bring It back to the greatest extent he could. Oh, the days of great sorcery would never return, but sorcery of the lesser variety that he could do.
But, It would not be easy, this he knew for a fact, for with each passing day his strength was dwindling further and further, his fur was graying more and more each day as the last vestiges of his magic faded and his age started to catch up to him. It was worse, considering he was in the lands of Ice and Snow, the cold weather was not kind to his old bones.
The door to the room he was in, opened suddenly and He eyed the only reason he was such good time.
"Are you ready to keep going, Uncle?" The young adult sea otter in the door asked.
Growling lightly, he snapped. "Of course I am, unlike you youngsters I've been ready for hours now."
Tarmikal, smiling widely stepped through the door and In one swift motion swept the Old Sea Otter's bag straight onto his back with minimal effort. Then, leading the way, left the Inn's room with the old otter right behind, who was still fastening his heavy cloak about his shoulders.
Before the two had set off on this journey they'd gone out of their way to gather multiple pairs of all kinds of clothing, that when they'd arrived to the Lands of Ice and Snow, they'd started to wear in multiple layers with paw wrappings and cloaks and more. Despite this, the land was still bitterly cold, at least as far north as they were, the two otters were starting to reach the area of the Lands of Ice and Snow that were permanent ice and snow. The very north, The Great White Nothing.
They didn't have to reach tundra fully, but near where It truly started was a old cave dug in the ground and within this was his goal.
Reaching the common room, Tarmikal nodded to the snow fox behind the counter and led the way out of the Inn.
The small village they'd spent the night at was small, only about thirty "vermin" actually lived In It. As they were on the coast, they primarily fished in the far northern sea and brought back catches of fish for the village to eat or send to their ruling Warlord. The region's current Warlord, last the Old Otter checked, was a wolverine by the name of Gorefang. Though he was getting old, he still ruled; according to some of the gossip he'd heard around the village, because his eldest son had run off.
"Uncle Maodhin," Tarmikal said suddenly, shortly after they'd left the village. "How much farther do we need to go?"
"Not much farther, only another five days walk until we reach our destination."
Though neither of them would see the return of sorcery, that was the cost that Maodhin had discovered came along with the ritual he would perform, not that Tarmikal knew.
Forgive me lad, I have to do what I have to do.
