Okay, so before we get this chapter started, I need to do a BIG SHOUT-OUT: due to the many writers who have made this chapter (and the rest of the story) possible. Really, I couldn't have done this without any of your help.
As always, I thank you, Periosha, for lending your voice to Soron and being my co-writer, even when the times are hard and gets us down. I have always thought of the bond between Phelan and Soron as similiar to ours (minus the arguements and the fist-fighting, LOL!), and here's to a stronger friendship for many years to come! :D
To The Shadow Flamed Kyuubi, ChipmunkFan19, xX bladed-acoustix Xx, and Foreteller of Three, thank you for volunteering to put your OCs into my story. So in some ways, this chapter, as well as the next two, have become a part of you as well. ;)
Also, a special mention to Scarlet Rabbit, who I promised to feature one of his OCs in this story as well, but I hope you'll give me some time, as I'm saving him for much later - though I promise his part will be just as important as the others.
~ Wind
Chapter 9: An Opportunity Arches
The funeral was a simple, yet elegant affair. Soron's face was completely void of emotions as he carried his grandmother out of the tree, who looked as if she was merely taking an afternoon nap. But now she would have sweet dreams for eternity, the three chipmunks knew that as they wrapped her body in her favourite silk blanket.
Soron found a secluded glade in the heart of the forest, just a few miles away from the rowan tree, and that was where they laid Granny to rest. To complete the ceremony, Maia sang a few hymns taught to her by the Order. Phelan laid a stalk of rosemary, Granny's favourite flowers, by the headstone while Soron cast some protective spells around the grave to conceal its view from would-be intruders.
As the day's remains found itself coming closer to an end, the sunset bathed the bereaving sky with an orange-gold radiance, turning Granny's headstone of polished marble from a solemn white to a light hue of ethereal pink. Perhaps the forest had a voice of its own, saying that the seasons would always come and go, but beauty, here in nature's paradise, would never fade away and diminish as long as it was untouched.
"I wish Grandma was here to see this place," Phelan heaved a deep breath.
Maia put an arm around Phelan's trench coat. "Of course she is. She's watching over us right now, and I'll bet she's proud of her two grandsons for making the right choices."
Phelan leaned closer to her, managing a sad smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks, Maia.
"Well, we probably should make a move now. Soron?"
The wolf-like chipmunk turned to face his brother, who hadn't spoken a word since.
"Soron, I know your heart remains here in the forest, with Granny and the others. But I hope you'll consider staying with me for a while. Please? We're still a family, and my brothers and I'll do all we can to make you feel at home once more."
His offer was met with a curt reply.
"Staying, going, what difference does it make? Everyone leaves when you least expect it. Still, it's your funeral."
At first, Soron looked as though he wouldn't budge an inch from where he stood, but he picked up his pace and started walking towards the edge of the forest, glaring at Phelan.
"Well? Are you coming or what?"
"Be with you in a second!" Phelan called out, before quickly addressing Maia. "Could you keep an eye on Soron for a moment? There's something I have to do."
She nodded and followed behind the hazel-brown chipmunk, keeping a safe distance away from him.
Now that Phelan was alone, he knelt closer to the headstone and felt a smooth, cooling sensation as he brushed a paw over the marble.
"I'll watch over Soron, I promise," whispered Phelan. "Rest in peace, Grandma."
He took one more look at Granny's headstone, then at the rowan tree before hurrying up to join the others, wiping away his tears of homesickness.
Wondering if he'd ever get the chance to come back.
It was dreary dark and starless by the time the three chipmunks made their way to the Sevilles' front porch, but there were enough lights around every household to assure them that they hadn't missed dinner. Yet hunger, like every other source of happiness, was the furthest thing on their minds right now.
"I think you'd better go home first, Maia," said Phelan as the two of them guided Soron up to the door. "You're looking pretty beat. And the girls might be worried sick if you're not back in time."
"But what about you?"
"Don't worry about me. Soron's my responsibility. I'll take care of him until he comes to his senses again. You'll see."
There was no point arguing any further. Phelan was right: her paws were beginning to ache from the strain of all that walking. And to top it off, Maia didn't want to admit it – especially not after Soron had called her a prissy princess.
"Go on. I'll be fine," Phelan said, as if he could delve into the creamy-white chipette's thoughts. "You've done all you could for me, and I couldn't ask for more."
Almost without knowing what she was doing, Maia found herself walking towards the street where the Millers' house would be facing her. Then she snapped out of her trance and turned to Phelan with concern. "Call me if you need anything, ok?"
"Of course. And Maia?"
"Hmm?"
"Whatever Soron said about you, I'm sure he didn't mean it."
Maia met his eyes with the warmest of smiles, which Phelan took as a silent way of saying thank you. What he didn't expect was a moment of surprise as she rushed over and gave him a quick hug.
"There are over a hundred members in the Order, but I've never met anyone with a heart as noble as yours," she said.
Phelan's smile never left his face, even as he waited until he was absolutely sure he saw the petite, almost-shimmering figure slip through the door of the Millers' house before entering his own.
No one was in at the moment, or they would have heard the commotion which was loud enough to bring down the house. Soron was becoming more of a dead weight, figuratively speaking, and even the short walk to the living room became an arduous task as Phelan had to drag his inanimate brother by the collar of his robes. They both collapsed onto the couch; Phelan panting to keep up with his vigorous heartbeats while Soron lay spread-eagled and half-dazed, not bothering to pick himself up at all. Once he got his breath back, Phelan went on to bring some life into his knees with a good thumping.
"You okay, bro? Can I get you anything?"
Silence. Phelan sighed, but said nothing more as he patted his brother's shoulders. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
He took one last look at Soron, who was still staring at the ceiling, then retreated into the kitchen, in the hopes of finding himself a light meal.
Dave was already there, having some leftovers and reading the evening paper. "Oh hi, Phelan. I didn't hear you come in."
"Where's Alvin and the others?"
"They're still over at the Chipettes'. In fact, Brittany said something about having a sleepover. Aren't you going to join them?"
"That's OK, Dave," Phelan plopped himself miserably onto a chair. "I'm not in the mood tonight."
Dave put down his paper as he noticed the glum expression on his son's face. "Is something the matter, Phelan? If you don't mind me saying so, you're looking a bit like a raincloud tonight."
"Yeah... it's just been a really rough day."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
As Phelan snuggled up into Dave's lap, he felt a great deal lighter as he poured his heart out about the day's events. But be as it may, the wolf-like chipmunk knew he was no better at hiding his true feelings than Soron was. He pressed himself closer to Dave and had a good cry on his shoulder, while Dave wrapped his arms in a comforting embrace, patting the sobbing chipmunk on the back.
"Thanks, Dave," Phelan sniffed away the last of his tears. "I really needed that."
"I'm sorry to hear about your loss. I can't imagine what Soron must be going through right now. If there's anything we can do to help him feel better..."
"Would it be ok to let Soron stay here for a few days? Just till he gets back to his senses again, I promise." Phelan's eyes shone with hope.
"It's alright, Phelan. He can stay here as long as he wants to," Dave smiled, remembering how the former warrior of the Light had once saved Alvin's life. Or so he was led to believe.
Phelan's response was to give Dave another hug, his tail wagging with joy for the first time tonight.
"Alright, I've got to get some sleep now. And I think you and Soron ought to do the same. Maybe things will turn out to be better in the morning."
Dave carried Phelan like he would a child and gently set him onto the floor.
"Yeah, I hope so too," Phelan said.
"Just give me a call if you need anything, alright?"
"Will do."
"Goodnight, Phelan."
"Goodnight, Dave."
He let Dave kiss his furry cheek, then watched Dave as he sneaked quietly up the stairs, careful not to disturb the peace of the night.
It wasn't until Phelan glanced over at Soron's direction – he hadn't budged an inch from his seat – when a sudden thought occurred to him.
Soron was always a street-smart chipmunk, Phelan knew that. But in desperate measures like these, his brother could be just as calm as a ten-foot tidal wave. Thankfully, there weren't any sharp objects around the kitchen, and Theodore always turned off each electrical appliance after his cooking was done.
Still, there was no knowing what Soron could do...
Phelan grabbed every last cutlery he could find (even the spoons) and hid them in a drawer under the sink. Then just to be on the safe side, he hid the soap and the dishwashing liquid too, though Phelan wondered for a moment as to how much could a chipmunk drink before he needed a one-way trip to the vet.
The answer came from the living room, as Phelan's senses screamed out that something had happened to Soron. Something absolutely and terribly wrong.
Phelan dashed back to the couch, only to find Soron sitting upright, facing a couple of bottles staring blankly at him across the coffee table. The despondent chipmunk was already holding a bottle in his paw, and now he was downing it in several reckless gulps.
"Soron Andrews, where in heaven's name did you get these?"
"Tis' noneryour beeswax…" His words were heavy, not from his heart, but from the way his speech was slurring.
Ignoring Soron's protests, Phelan snatched the bottle from him and sniffed the top. It hit his nostrils with a strong odour, and was still half-full of the clear liquid. Then he looked up at the display cabinets where Dave kept his prized possession of vintage wines (which he never drank in front of the boys), and saw that there were several empty spaces where those bottles used to be.
Phelan's mouth opened wide in shock.
"You took them out of Dave's private store? You can't do that! What's he going to think when he finds out you've been drinking his booze?"
"Hey…" He groaned, trying to look at him straight, "You… said, y'were… you wanted to help me feel at home, right?"
Phelan gave a discrete, but respectful nod, and Soron smiled drunkenly, and stretched his arms out.
"Well, I am feeling at home right now! So why are ye trying te stopping me?"
While Phelan wanted very much to shake some sense into his brother's depraved soul, there was nothing he could do about it. If this was the way Soron could feel at peace, even if it meant drinking himself to his death, then the least Phelan could do was just to be in his brother's shadows.
And so he did, watching as Soron kept drowning his sorrows deeper and deeper with every gulp, his face growing redder and redder still.
"This… is all your… f-f-fault," pointing an accusing finger randomly in the air, at what he presumed was Phelan. "You took everything from me. Oho, I bet you're having a good laugh right now, aren't you? Ye are, RIGHT!"
"Who are you talking about, Soron?" Phelan chose his words carefully.
"Isn't it obvious?" He sneered as he hiccupped, gulping more to stop it. "You started everything! You're to blame, you are!"
"You know that's not true. And personally, I think you've had enough for one night," Phelan said, taking away the third empty bottle from Soron's paws.
Instantly, Soron turned on Phelan, a look of rage blazing across his face.
"Just look at you, mutt!" He managed to mumble, his form straightening sheepishly as he tried to get his words straight.
"You've got a family, and a freakin' career as a rock star!"
He then threw a bottle at him, missing by a foot, and Phelan caught it just as it was about to hit the floor.
Soron fell back onto the coffee table; tears freely flowing from his eyes as he swayed his head from side to side, his whole world beginning to spin.
"Why can't I have that life? Why can't I have everything I want?"
He curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees close as he trembled like a frightened infant.
"I want mommy back…" he bawled childishly, large tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. "And daddy too, and Granny, and my big brother! I want them back!"
He tried to get up before he collapsed into Phelan's arms, still sobbing, and the wolf-like chipmunk pulled him into a cuddle, rocking and hushing him with gentle whispers.
"It's alright. I'm here, I'm here..." Phelan's voice was as soothing as his paws that patted Soron's back.
"I want... I want..." he could hear Soron mumbling over and over again, until his faint whispers turned into gentle breathings. Tears were warm and damp alright, but the moist, lapping sensation that now spread across his paw felt unusual altogether. Phelan looked down at the lump of fur resting on his lap.
Soron had fallen fast asleep.
But he was still sucking on Phelan's thumb.
Phelan didn't know how long he'd been sitting on that couch, but he was saved from falling deeper into his nightmares by the gentle tapping of fists on the door. Blinking his eyes wide awake, he found Soron still curled up on his lap, and still pacifying himself with Phelan's paw. With all the patience of a turtle, Phelan got up without disturbing his brother and pulled a silent face at the sight of his moist, drool-drenched paw.
Well, that's probably gonna leave a mark, Phelan thought as he wiped it on his trench coat.
Before the knocking could ascend to its loudest volume, Phelan had already reached the door, to reveal a surprising guest.
"Maia?"
"Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I couldn't sleep. It's... too much to take in for one day."
He could see dark rings under the chipette's blue-and green eyes, but it did little to take away the beauty found within those lively spheres. "No problem. Come on in."
"Thanks. How's Soron?"
"He's alright," Phelan pointed to the couch behind him, where they could still make out the form of the sleeping hazel-brown chipmunk. "Got a little upset at first, but I think he's taking it quite well for now."
The first thing Maia noticed was the pile of bottles lying on the floor around Soron. "He drank all of these?"
"Yeah. I've known him my whole life, but I didn't know he had a thing for booze." Phelan said, picking up the evidence and discarding them into an empty plastic bag.
"You'd be surprised. Soron picked up the habit, way back when he first came into the Order. That was one of the reasons why he got kicked out."
"And what's the other?"
"For holding a grudge against you."
Phelan fell quiet for a while, leading Maia to wonder if she'd said the wrong thing. But whatever feelings he must be harbouring at the moment were now wrapped along with the plastic bag which he disposed into the trash can.
His voice, when he spoke, sounded calm, if not jubilant as ever.
"I can't sleep either. D'you want to... sit out on the porch with me?"
Maia nodded. "I'd like that."
When Dave first bought a piano for the house, the bench that came with it was perfectly comfortable and sturdy, but grew old and tatty over the years. Instead of throwing the bench away, he set it out on the porch for sentimental and recreational values, and that was where the two chipmunks sat down to forget about their troubles.
The stars refused to show themselves still, and a cluster of midnight clouds formed a blanket over the somewhat sleeping moon. But Phelan and Maia couldn't care less about how the night chose to paint itself. They had the silence all to themselves, and they had each other's company.
All the while, Maia couldn't stop looking into Phelan's eyes, and she had to grip her fidgety paws in order to calm herself. While she was currently fighting a losing battle with her conscience, perhaps it was best to come clean and tell Phelan everything.
But – where to begin? Phelan, I'm really on a mission from the Order of Light – I had to get closer to you so that I could apprehend Soron for his crimes. But I can't do this anymore, because every time I look into your eyes, it reminds me of all the kindness you've shown me...
And now, now I think I... I –
I love you.
How could she rekindle the flames of a dangerous conversation without looking suspicious at all?
That's when Phelan came to her rescue.
"Did you really mean what you said back then?"
"About what?"
"That I had more nobility than the rest of the Order put together?"
Maia smiled back at him. "You're more than that. You truly are the most down-to-earth and humble chipmunk I've ever met. And... I don't think I could ever live up to those kinds of expectations."
"What are you talking about?"
"Phelan, I haven't been completely honest with you. There's something you ought to know -"
Her train of thoughts was brought to a pause as Phelan placed a finger across her lips.
"Not tonight, Maia. Not now. Not ever. Your presence is all I need."
"But-"
"Listen to me. I don't care about the path you choose to side with. I don't care about whatever dark secrets you're hiding from me. That isn't you at all. I know you, Maia. You're much better than that, because you're a chipmunk with free spirit, and that alone is better than being a free chipmunk with no will of her own."
She didn't want to cry in front of Phelan. Not again. But this time, her lip quivered with a shudder, and a tear poured down her cheek.
To her surprise, Phelan brushed it away... and he did something she'd never expected him to do.
He kissed her. Felt his whiskery lips brush against her delicate heart-shaped nose.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Phelan beat her to it again.
"Maia, be quiet."
"Phelan, you've got to hear me out, please-"
"No, no, seriously, Maia. Be quiet. Something's wrong." This time, there were no smiles on the wolf-like chipmunk's face, his ears perked up to full height as he sniffed the air like a watchful predator.
"What is it?" Even before she could share Phelan's anxiety, Maia heard it coming.
Footsteps, and they were growing nearer with each passing second.
"We've got company," Phelan growled softly.
They came from out of the shadows, descending into pale moonlight like spirits arising from mist. There was something about the way they took in their stride, walking with cat-free elegance while their auras resonated with the hunger of a ravenous pack of wolves.
"Stay close to me," Phelan told the creamy-white chipette. "If I get into any trouble, run back to the house and call Dave. And watch over Soron if you can."
Maia nodded, though both of them could now clearly see the threat that lay before them on the Sevilles' front lawn.
What looked like a sinister abstract of five misshapen creatures turned out to be a bunch of six renegades – anyone could have easily mistaken the two beings standing on the farthest left as one.
With that said, Phelan first turned his attention to the tallest of the two. It was a wolf, but nothing like any other lupine he'd seen in the pack that came to assist him on Halloween night. This one was a young pup, with free-spirited green eyes like Phelan's, and a bushy tail to match his glossy silver pelt. From the looks of it, he could have been an Arctic or a timber wolf, or even a cross between both. And sitting atop his shoulder, perched pirate-like, was a small brown bat, flapping her wings every now and then to get rid of the kinks and enjoy the cool breeze.
The other four were roughly about the same height. But if one was a chipmunk, then everybody else in that group had to be a chipmunk too, save for the wolf and the bat.
The chipmunk on the farthest right wore a dark-red hoodie with black stripes to go with his black pants, and to top it off, he wore black-and-red shoes. He was different, not in the sense that his brown fur was unusually darker than most chipmunks, but it was the scar across his left eye and the slit in his ear that gave Phelan the heebie-jeebies. For some reason, there was an ominous thundercloud looming above him, and Phelan didn't think this chipmunk was most likely to be nominated as the friendliest of the bunch.
Chipmunk number two was clad in a white shirt, black jeans and a pair of black boots. His fur was much lighter than Maia's, though there was nothing in those blue eyes of his that showed any signs of friendship or hostility – in fact, there was hardly any signs of emotions in this chipmunk at all.
It was the figure in the centre that proved to be the biggest mystery of all. All he had to show was his silver hoodie concealing his face, which led Phelan to wonder if he'd stolen Soron's choice of fashion. But this one was definitely in charge. You couldn't call yourself a leader if you didn't have a black, swishing cloak that danced to your every step.
And standing in between the hooded figure and the wolf-and-bat team was –
"Rhodas?" Phelan blurted out. There was no doubt about it: this was the same chipmunk who'd almost made minced meat out of him in the forest – and still turned out to be his number one fan.
"Phelan! Boy, am I glad to see you! You won't believe the trouble I went through to get the rest of us here! I mean, I could get a whole forest to come if this was a party. Told them you were back, and they had to see it for themselves. But no, no, no, they didn't believe me! And I says, I'm going to drag them across the globe if I had to. So I did!"
Turning around to face his posse, Rhodas crossed his paws, a smug smile beaming from ear to ear.
"See, I told you he was for real!"
The hooded figure in the centre, the one with the cloak, walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Rhodas. I'll take it from here."
His voice was almost as high-pitched as Rhodas's, if not deeper with the confidence of leadership. But Phelan guessed right – it was a chipmunk that pulled off his hood to reveal himself. His fur was a dark, rich shade of gold while his eyes were bright silver; yet another feature somewhat identical to Soron's.
"Are you Phelan Seville?"
It would have been easier to lie if Rhodas hadn't called out his name. Nevertheless, Phelan faced the cloaked stranger and bowed cautiously.
"Yes, I am. What business do you seek with me?"
The chipmunk raised his paws in a symbol of reassurance, even though he could read Phelan's mind.
"Don't worry, we come in peace. No harm will come to you and your family. You have my word."
For a guy he'd just met, Phelan could see just how much the golden-furred chipmunk revelled in his position as host for the night.
"Who are you?" said Phelan.
"My name is Aaron. I lead the Black Arch. And I have a proposal for you."
To Be Continued...
Alright, so now you have the current full roster of The Black Arch! What d'you suppose they have in store for our beloved wolf-like chipmunk? Only one way to find out!
Oh, and before I go, there's an important announcement I have to make.
I'm not abandoning this story, but I am taking half the year off to further my studies overseas (in the Land Down Under). So while I'll be gone for a very long while, that doesn't mean I won't do my best to update as often as I can. If you want to keep in touch with me, please do so via PMs, and I'll be glad to hear from you, as well as your support and prayers.
I'm leaving next Friday, so I should have the next chapter up on Thursday - as a sort of see-you gift from me to all of you.
Until then, don't forget to review and I'll see you one more time! ;)
"Always trust in your stories."
~ Wind