Chapter 7:

Advances

"I'm sorry, Mother… Father."

Lotus' remorse was genuine. He hung his silver head, eyes closed, as he stood before his parents, submitting himself to his punishment. Break paid close attention to the long look that Binde and Katana shared – her eyes hard and prodding, his softer, but still as determined.

Finally, Binde turned back to his son, and spoke in a soft voice. "Go to the cave… We shall discuss your consequences, and tell you by mealtime."

Lotus nodded, and looked up, squinting against the morning sun that stretched out its arms and turned the dark sky bright pink. He then began making his way up the ledges to the same cave that Katana had disappeared into the night previous. He cast Break a single glance, and those silver eyes regained some of their previous fire.

All the other wolves were at their own business. A few young pups playing out in the snow under the supervision of a single older one. The Elders perched at their posts atop the pinnacle of stone, watching out over the meadow. A few tracks left in the thin snow signaled the coming and going of others recently – Gianaval said that the shifts had changed. Sentries were coming in to rest while new, fresh ones went out to take their place.

"Where did they take Koba?" he said in a quiet voice, and Gianaval sighed. The old wolf stared out at the morning light; both lay on the snow-topped peak of the highest crag – the Alpha's rightful place, his throne of sorts. The very idea that Gianaval had invited Break to come sit by him boggled his mind.

"They took him to Stone Hill, where all of our honored warriors are buried. Had it been summer, it would only take a few hours to do the deed, but with the frost, the ground is hard. They will have to be quick; not only is the hill in full view of the mansion, but it is also on the border between our lands, and the Dark Reaches."

Break frowned as Gianaval's gaze turned just slightly to the left, to the north. He followed that gaze, where the landscape began its slope upward toward the distant mountains. A good few miles in that direction, stood a single hill, barren and lonely amidst the thick forest. The snow glistened on its crest, and he thought he could barely see three small dots of color on its white face.

"The Dark Reaches?"

Gianaval nodded, and lifted his nose a bit. "Yes – do you see? Beyond Stone Hill, past the Pit Marshes. In the mountains. Can you see it?"

Break looked hard, studying the snow-caps. A storm front seemed to be coming from the northwest, the blue-grey heads of the clouds looming higher than the peaks and streaming down their faces like a scarf, streaking with lightning. How odd, that was… A thunderstorm in the dead of winter? Shafts of cloud stretched out from the cell, as if reaching its vastness yet further. Under those clouds, behind the mountains, the storm grew so dark, so thick… He even spotted a twister in its murky depths, one that loomed over one mount in particular. This mountain stood higher than all the rest, and no snow settled on its ridges. It was utterly black under the shadow of the storm, and lightning continuously struck its face.

"You look startled, Xerxes. Have you never seen it before?"

His brow furrowed as he stared at the spectacle in awe and dread. Never had he seen something so… unnatural. Unearthly. Dark, foreboding. Just the sight of it set his hair on end, and made him want to return to the mansion even sooner, to be closer at his mistress' side…

"I've… never taken the time to notice. There were always clouds at the mountains, but… Not like that."

Gianaval nodded, looking down at his paws. "They have hidden it well from mankind. No man can see it clearly – but we see. As we have seen for many, many years. They cannot hide from us."

"Who?" The word was but a whisper from Break's lips, as the breath was stolen from him.

"The Dark Ones, and the Black Council. That is their haunt, their fortress – Shadow Peak. No servant of Light has ever entered into its walls, and returned alive."

Break's stare lingered at the nightmarish sight before slowly turning to his guide. "Gianaval… All of this is new to me. But… It would seem we are in greater danger than even I realized. Dark Ones, Black Council, Shadow Peak, Dark Reaches… What does it all mean?"

A wise air settled over the old wolf as he drew his head back. The thick mane about his neck created a sort of lining, like that which would adorn the collar of a king – and for a fleeting moment, the old wolf looked very royal indeed.

"It has been a conflict since the beginning of Time itself… Since the Dark Lord rebelled against the Lightmaker, and was sentenced to finite power here in this world. Each side has its followers – those of us, we follow the Light. But the Dark Ones – like the wolves that attacked you and your heiress all those years ago when she was but a child – believed the lies of the Deceiver, and he shared with them a portion of his power.

It has always been their goal to destroy all traces of Light, and what all is good in this world. They want to conquer, so they can rule. They have been promised riches and power beyond anything they can imagine, if they would only sell their soul to the Dark Lord. And in return, they do his bidding, in hopes that in the end, he would see them worthy of immortality, even deity."

The Dark Ones… attacked you and your heiress all those years ago… He recalled clearly the nightmare beasts that were the source of all Sharon's fears – with glowing scarlet eyes and coats as black as pitch – and his fur bristled.

"Their temperate power gives them unnatural strength, endurance, size and color. It stains their fur black with their iniquity, and they glory in it. They relish in their power, and have no desire to change anything. Some truly believe everything the Dark Lord tells them, while others follow him only because they are able to do whatever they want." A growl escaped Gianaval. "They thirst for the blood of Lightfollowers, and go out of their way to dwindle our numbers. Anything they can to rid the land of our influence, they will do. Whether innocents are caught in the fray or not."

A shiver wracked its way down Break's spine. Any other time, he would have been tempted to throw it all away as a story from the mouth of a crazy old man. But after seeing everything he had in a mere night… This seemed only a part of the puzzle.

"Why am I here, then?" he asked, looking back out at the mountains. "What's the purpose of it?"

"Your transformation?" Gianaval cocked his head, studying him. "Honestly… I'm not sure myself. But… the last time it happened… the man who joined a pack in the form of a wolf learned many things from them, and went back a better person, a stronger warrior… a hero."

~Guardian~

The early morning light lit the path for the creature known as Pythos to creep through the Rainsworth gardens, toward the mansion. He slide along the ground, under hedges and over drifts unseen by anyone. He came to the servants' entrance and, without a single glance back, slipped through an unnoticeable crevice in the doorframe. His body oozed through like water, and he found himself in the warmth of the kitchen within.

But he didn't stop to bask in the heat. He continued straight on through the room, maneuvering down halls and corridors. He made his way toward a room on the third level – a bed chambers, of a certain elderly woman.

He hid in corners when people passed by – particularly the hunter, the Chain, or the young master – and nobody paid him any heed. With his dark color and small form, he fitted easily into small spaces, and could hide practically in plain sight.

It seemed too easy, but he had expected no less. He was a master at his skill, the very reason why the Black Mistress had sent him on this mission. He could get in without being seen, do the deed, and get out again without a ruckus. The old woman would be dead within the hour, and no one would know how or why. Ah, the beauty of it…

He reached the bedroom, and slipped through a mousehole to the room on the other side of the door. But, to his surprise, it was empty. He glanced to and fro in search of his target, but found no sign of her. He cursed under his breath, and turned around. Now he would have to hunt for her… Usually, at this early hour, she was in her room, on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket as she read one of her favored books.

But something was different this morning. Perhaps it was the news of the guardian's unfortunate death?

He had just slithered out of the bedroom when the clomping of shoes on the hallway floor alerted him to an approaching human. By the time he looked up, it was too late. The maid screamed.

"SNAKE!"