A/N: The end! This might seem odd, but worry not and stay tuned for the mystery, romance, and adventure of... The Whitefang Pack 3!
Chapter 11
"There are so many of them," Ember said under her breath as she instinctively backed away from a yawning Seviper. The snakes formed a mass of writhing bodies, their scales glittering in the light of Nightwing's flame. She watched as two of them hissed and fought over a scrap of prey, poison dripping from their fangs.
Nightwing appeared unmoved by the sight. He fed them on a regular basis, after all, Ember reasoned. But she hadn't had his exposure to the beasts, and it showed. "Stop squirming," her mentor said. "They can see your fear."
"That's real comforting," she retorted.
The Absol snorted at her. "Since you are one of us now," he said it with a tone that indicated he was rolling his eyes, but Ember couldn't see it at least. "I have been informed that part of your new duties is to help me feed these guys."
"Great."
"Quiet," he hissed. "Watch carefully."
They had found a Rattata along the way to the valley and carried its carcass here. Ember had assumed it would be a meal for them… but no. She watched instead as Nightwing picked up the carcass by its scruff and padded closer to the mass of snakes. They lined up obediently, jaws snapping impatiently as Nightwing tossed his head and sent the food flying. It was caught midair and devoured whole.
Disgusted, Ember turned away from the scene. "Why do I have to help you do this?"
"You are my apprentice. Let's go, before the rest decide that you'd be a good meal."
As they scaled the mountainside, she ended up scrabbling after her mentor as he set a pace she couldn't match. Feeding them is for the betterment of Mountain Clan, Ember tried to reason with her unsettled feelings. They are a danger if they're hungry. They're big enough to eat Absol… or me.
They returned just in time to see the Salamence-slaying party start to draw a crowd in the center of the cave. Ember noticed that her friends, Tarrim and Mordecai, were missing, but the rest of the party was intact, if a little battered. "Mountain Clan! I bring news of our success," one of the Absol bellowed. "We have killed the dragon, due to the heroics of the brothers, Mordecai and Tarrim!"
Almost theatrically, the herald bowed his head. "But I must also inform you that Mordecai has passed into the afterlife. He honored Mountain Clan well, fighting 'till the end."
"And Tarrim?" Ember called, just to get a cuff across her ear from Nightwing for interrupting. The party of Absol turned, unease clearly written in the way they shifted their paws and started murmuring among each other.
"Tarrim will return soon," the herald finally assured her. The uneasy whispering continued, before one of them finally broke from the group and dashed to where Ember and Nightwing were standing.
The Vulpix recognized the female Absol as Duvali, a young and gentle Defender who wielded the ice element with great skill. "Please come with me, Ember," she said, casting a meaningful glance toward her mentor. Nightwing glanced between them for a moment before nodding, padding off into the cave.
Ember and Duvali paced away from the others. It seemed Duvali needed some time to gather her thoughts, as she led Ember far from the rest of Mountain Clan and to a large rock that overlooked the Ceremonial Valley. Its base was wide enough to seat them both comfortably, and that was where they rested. The hot sun had baked the rock to a wonderfully warm temperature, which relaxed the Vulpix, though she could feel the tension radiating off of her companion.
"Ember, the Salamence caused great destruction for your birth clan," Duvali finally spoke with a great sigh. "Years ago, Salamence hunted Ninetales and Absol for food—"
"I know. My father told me the story," Ember interrupted, earning a brisk nod.
"Ember, I'm very sorry," the Absol said, her voice filling with sorrow. Ember's heart filled with dread as she realized why she'd been called aside. "I have been told that many brave Ninetales have lost their lives to the monster. It cornered and captured Flamedance—" she spoke over the Vulpix's yip of dismay. "—and Tetzleflame was the hero of your old clan today. He lost his life distracting the Salamence."
"N-no," Ember murmured. She got to her paws, shaking her head in denial. "You're lying. You must be lying. My parents aren't dead. They couldn't be dead."
Duvali rested her paw on the Vulpix's back in a comforting gesture. Ember just backed away, eyes wide with shock. "Tetzleflame's last words were for you. He apologized. I'm sure he loved you greatly, Ember. I'm sure he wanted things to be different."
"I-I… Duvali. I must go back," she squinted her eyes closed against the sadness welling in her heart. Her mind may not have accepted it, but her body, her heart, ached with loss and regret.
"Then go back," the Absol got to her paws and nudged Ember gently. "Go with Mountain Clan's blessing."
With a nod, Ember turned away, taking a moment to get her bearings straight. For the first time, she would be making this trip alone, as an outsider to pack life. It was time for one last goodbye.
Myrone had taken an extra turn hunting that day by the Whitefang Pack's portion of the lake. Winter seemed to already be loosening its grip on the land, though prey was still sparse. It was the worst season to have a major fight in, but at least it had been brief. Almost painless. The Whitefang Pack had lost a Vaporeon to the fight, though the Espeon had not known him too well. A few burns to go around for the rest, but that was about it.
She worried about Eaglefire Pack, however. How would they decide their new leader? Eaglefire had been under Tetzleflame for so long. Maybe too long. It wouldn't be easy, getting used to new leadership in the pack structure. Peace in the forest was so new. Would the Staticstrike and Blackstar Packs ally again and start trouble?
"You will have many worries, but not from old foes," a now-familiar presence filled Myrone's head. She turned to see the ethereal Vulpix, Silentcry, resting next to the lake. Those piercing eyes looked right through the Espeon.
"And how do you know?" Myrone huffed, her tail twining in irritation. She didn't want to see this phantom, especially not now. Her pack needed her to stop hallucinating and to focus on the tasks at hand.
Silentcry chuckled. "You think me a phantom. A figment of your imagination," she said. She got to her feet, and Myrone could see that she had no reflection in the lake water. "Myrone. You have a gift."
She disappeared for a moment, reappearing beside the Espeon. Myrone jumped away with a startled yelp. "Espeon can sense the future. But you… you can also sense the past. Snippets of it."
"I don't understand…" was the reply, as the lavender fur on the back of her neck started to rise.
"I am a part of the past, Myrone. I drowned in this very lake, many moons ago…" the Vulpix spirit shook her head as if to dispel the thought. "But since then, I have watched the packs that roam this forest. I have learned secrets you could never imagine. And… I have found my voice at last. You."
"If you are a ghost, how can you read my mind?" Myrone demanded.
Silentcry shrugged. "If you don't want them heard, you should not broadcast them. However, I have not come here to talk about this. My time with you is short. I have come to warn you and your pack. The forest's peace is fragile, and I see war in the red of the setting sun."
"What do you mean? Who will attack us? How—"
"So many questions, so few answers," the Vulpix spirit tsked. "I cannot tell you everything. It is not my place to rule the forest through what I know. Just remember…" she was starting to fade. "…follow the fire. Trust in the fire. It is the only way."
Silentcry was gone and Myrone was reeling in confusion. She turned and raced through the underbrush as fast as her legs would carry her. An alarm call went out when she streaked past Whitefang's posted guard and into Blazewind's den, stopping abruptly in a spray of sand. Makos and Blazewind certainly didn't appreciate her entrance, but the way her pelt was fluffed to twice its size certainly indicated how afraid she was.
"Blazewind! Makos! I have a secret to tell you…"
Ember reached the sweet grass of her old pack's land at last. It wouldn't be Eaglefire Pack anymore, she reasoned sadly, as her aching muscles pushed her the last few Ninetales-lengths toward the eerily silent camp. She had reached her homeland in half the time it had taken before, but she was exhausted by the time she made it to her father's old den.
There were no Vulpix or Ninetales in sight. As she collapsed, she caught a whiff of the new leader above the diminishing scent of Tetzleflame. She keened weakly at the reminder that she would someday forget that scent and the sound of his voice.
"What's this?" the voice echoed from the den. A golden-pelted female strode from the den, inclining her head regally as she took in Ember lying in front of her. "Ah, Ember. I was hoping we would meet again, though I do wish it were under better circumstance."
The Ninetales licked Ember's forehead in a kind fashion that painfully reminded her of Flamedance. "Solvarra. Congratulations," the Vulpix stated weakly. "You look well."
"I did not fight to be leader," Solvarra answered. She puffed her chest out proudly. "My Dragonfire pack is more sophisticated than the rest. I was elected."
"My father would have liked that," Ember murmured. The election, not the name, she meant. The forest didn't need such a reminder of the recent battle.
"Yes, yes," was the reply. "Ember, you are exhausted. Come rest in my den. I would like to discuss many things with you, namely you becoming an ambassador for me. How does that sound?"
It sounded like Ember would be useful to both Dragonfire Pack and Mountain Clan. The Vulpix brightened somewhat, seeing a future where the Absol could foster a friendship with the packs of the forest, started by her leadership and the mentoring of Solvarra. For Ember, her life had fallen right in place.