Welcome, fellow readers, to yet another chapter of your favourite wolf-like chipmunk!

As always, I'm apologising in advance for the unexpected delay of the writing, but there is a specific outcome that had to be kept secret, as you will find out by the end of this chapter.

On top of that, my studies in Aussie have come to a halt for now, and so I find myself back in Malaysia. It feels great to be home! But like the constant wanderer Phelan will always be, I too wish to return to a place that has taught me many a great experience, and where I have made friends and family. :D

To Scarlett Rabbit, I'm giving this shout-out to you, because I'm finally able to give you a request long-forgotten. You'll find out soon enough. :P

But enough of me, it's time to move on, shall we? Enjoy! ;)

Chapter 18: Bound by Trust

"Really? I – I mean, that'll be great! That's awesome, thank you!"

Alvin's paws dug deeper into the phone, as though clinging desperately onto every last word. "R-right, I understand. Sure, we'll be there. Thanks again for your help. Okay, see you. Bye!"

The receiver dropped back onto its headset, faster than it took Alvin to rush back to his brothers, who were in the midst of their band practice.

"Guys! Guys! You're not going to believe this!"

Simon turned off the synthesiser, while Phelan and Theodore put down their instruments (Alvin had been teaching the former how to play the guitar). They waited as Alvin took a deep breath, ready to deliver the good news.

"We just got booked to record our album at Phoenix Records!"

Simon and Theodore were the first to break their dumbfounded silence with a series of jumping up and down as they whooped and cheered.

"Alright! We're finally going to be able to record our album after all!"

Phelan was the only one who didn't seem to partake in this moment of celebration – and for a good reason. "Er... what's Phoenix Records?"

His question was met with a look from Alvin that clearly said Dude, where have you been for the last two years?

"Duh, it's the latest in recording music technology! Every album that comes out of there has earned at least a platinum record! All the big-time singers have recorded a hit single in there! And they do it in record timing, too!"

"But what's the catch?"

"Gosh, Phelan, there's really no end to your 'both sides of the story', huh?" said Alvin, causing Phelan's fur to turn the shade of a beetroot.

"The problem is, they've only got us booked this Saturday. After that, there's nothing available for the next five months."

A series of groans followed.

"I'm not the expert here, but couldn't you guys record the album at another studio?" asked Phelan.

"We've always talked about booking Phoenix for ages," said Simon. "Plus, it's the only chance we've got of getting the album done in time before our next tour."

Alvin was now in full commando mode. "Simon's right. So please, you guys, let's not screw this up. We've got to get there on Saturday – all four of us – or this album goes down the drain."

All eyes were immediately on Phelan.

"Why do I get the feeling that it's going to be my fault?"

Alvin tapped him on the shoulder. "No offense, Phelan, but you've caused more trouble than I did over the past week. And if you're anything like us, then that spells a recipe for a natural disaster."

Everyone laughed, except Phelan.

"Let's get back to practice, shall we? From the beginning."

Phelan nodded, curling his thumb tightly around the guitar's neck.

"One, two, three, four –"

There was a sharp twang, followed by a deafening silence. The strings went through Phelan's claws as easily as they would into a shredding machine.

"PHHEEEE-LLAAAANNNN!"

Instead of rushing up to tend to Phelan, who was licking his bleeding paw, Alvin grabbed the broken guitar, cradling it like a newborn baby. "Man, how could you do this do me? That's the third set of strings you've ruined today!"

"I'm sorry, Alvin. Really, I am," Phelan mumbled, staring down at his wolf-like claws as though wishing they would fall off. "But you know I can't get rid of these babies. It's a part of who I am. Or what if I need to protect you guys from evil again?"

But from Phelan's downcast eyes and look of perpetual sorrow, it was obvious he wasn't paying any attention to his brother's petty rants. Nor was he aware of the stinging drops of iodine Simon had applied to his paw before going over them with a fresh bandage.

"Phelan, are you alright?" asked Simon. "You seem awfully tense today."

"M-me? Tense? I think you'd better check on Alvin – he's starting to sound a lot like Dave." Guilt flushed across Phelan's cheeks as he watched Alvin palm his face.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you seriously need Brittany's advice for a manicure!"

And he would've gone on to criticise the wolf-like chipmunk's personal grooming had Simon not come to Phelan's rescue.

"Look, we're all feeling tired from our practice – maybe even a bit psyched about getting the opportunity to record at Phoenix. I say we celebrate this moment by taking a short break before we all exhaust ourselves. Alvin?"

While Alvin didn't exactly take to being ordered around, yet it was clear that every string he yanked out of his guitar was a sign of breaking from his frustration.

"Sure, whatever. Looks like I gotta stock us up on a year's worth of strings if Phelan's going to learn something."

He turned around, perhaps to give Phelan another piece of his mind, but the wolf-like chipmunk had already vanished. They heard the click of the front door as it opened, followed by the turning of the lock.

Alvin raised a curious eyebrow, while Simon and Theodore met his gaze with shrugged shoulders.

"Is it just me, or have you noticed Phelan's been spending less time with us now that he's going steady with Maia?"

Since her last encounter with Phelan, Maia felt the beginning of something warm and radiant growing from within her belly.

She smiled as she discovered its source – the sunlight beaming a light gold on her fur. Her silhouette blended with Phelan's against the grass as she rested her head on his chest, curling up like a kitten close to its mother.

"I've never seen you so happy to be out in the daytime," said Maia, her finger twirled around a loop of mahogany-brown hairs. Maybe lying down on the lawn instead of sitting on the porch wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Maia, just because I'm a vessel of the Darkness doesn't mean I'll shrivel up and die from a little sunlight. I'm all flesh and blood, not some heartless monster like that Scar."

"Scar? Who's Scar?"

She looked up at Phelan. A bead of sweat rolled onto the tip of his mumbling tongue.

"D-did I say Scar? I meant that scumbag of a vampire who attacked you. Must be the heat talking," he said, cheeks flustered. "Either way, I still got a scar from that fight with him."

The memories of that night came flooding back like shades in the dark, even in the mellow afternoon. The cold, slimy tongue slithering down her vulnerable neck. The sight of his rust-coated fangs, lingering with the stench of prey.

It was as though Phelan could read deep into her shivering vibes while he held her close.

"Maia? Is that why you've been obsessed with getting your Mark?"

She flinched, half-expecting the voice that followed to be the kind that gave out stern lectures. Instead, every word brimmed with kindness and concern.

"You don't need a ceremony to enhance your own powers, believe me. You're worth a hundred times more than the rest of the Order put together."

An uncomfortable silence lodged itself in Maia's throat. She didn't want to admit it, but his words held a power of its own over the entire conversation.

"It's not my place to judge you, but aren't you – we – a little too young for this?"

Now it was Maia's turn to be the dominant one as she flipped herself right onto her stomach, staring down into Phelan's eyes.

"Soron did it with Serenity. And he's just about my age," she reasoned. "I think we're mature enough to make our own decisions, don't you?"

"Yeah, but look where it got him. I care about you, Maia. How can I forgive myself if I let you do something you'll regret forever? You're supposed to be making your own mistakes, not following in the shadows of others."

She caught Phelan's paw in mid-stroke, bringing it up to brush against her cheek. "I know. That's why I have no regrets making this decision with you."

And it wasn't just her gentle gaze which melted Phelan's heart away.

"Y-you're sure about this?"

"Like you said, Mo cuishle. And I want to be the pulse that beats inside of you, forever."

They could've made a hundred more foolish promises that day, but whatever deals left unsaid were sealed with a kiss. The sweltering heat that bathed them in their own sweat now became the fire kindling the taste of passion on each other's lips.

They felt a shadow cross over them. Both chipmunks looked up – only to come face to face with a towering barrier of hazel-brown fur.

Phelan's face went instantly from a warm smile to an intense scowl. "Come to have a good laugh, haven't you? Or are you here to just rub it in our faces?"

Soron rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be here unless it's urgent, would I? Anyway, we need to talk. And that includes you too, princess."

Next thing he knew, he was knocked clean off his feet by a knuckle sandwich, followed by Phelan and Maia frog-marching him all the way to the porch.

"Just because I'm a princess doesn't mean I'm not afraid to hit a Rogue," said Maia, her fist still clenched. "Now spill! Or forever hold your silence."

Soron picked himself up, rubbing frantically at the spot where Phelan had grabbed him. "Alright, alright! I've changed my mind. I'll help you with the Marking, and I'll even provide the supplies! Happy?"

Phelan looked awkwardly at Maia, who still had her paws raised.

"If this is one of your jokes, Soron, forget the Order – I will send you all the way back to learn your ABCs."

"No, I'm not." This time, Soron didn't have to raise his voice. "I've been thinking about what I said to Phelan. But even if I'm an ex-member of the Order, it doesn't mean I can't help out wherever I can."

He put an arm around their shoulders.

"And right now, you guys need my help – more than ever."

Maia's immediate reply was to brush it off, but whatever hostility flared in her eyes before had vanished as she wrapped her arms around the Rogue's neck.

Even the memory of their last encounter seemed like a blur to Phelan right now. "Thank you, Soron. You don't know what this means to us," he said, patting his brother's back.

"Don't thank me. You'll be doing me a huge favour." They watched Soron glance anxiously over his shoulder, as though expecting an unwanted visitor.

"I don't have much time, so I'll make this simple. The glade in the forest, tomorrow night. I'll be there. Make sure you're not followed. As for you, princess..." He shoved Phelan out of the way while he whispered the rest of his conversation to Maia.

"Got it," said Maia, leaving Phelan to look like a huge question mark.

"Don't ask," Soron pointed a warning finger at him. "You'll find out soon enough. Just do as I say, and we can get this over and done with. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

"Soron, wait!"

The hazel-brown chipmunk turned his head in the direction of Phelan's voice.

"What's in it for you?"

A smirk played on the corner of Soron's grin.

"Let's just say... I'll be giving back to the Order a lot more than what they've done for me."

The Arch had already taken their seats by the time Phelan entered the staff room.

All eyes were fixed on the empty chair located right in the centre; the whereabouts of its occupant lingering on everyone's mind. But then again, no one had seen or heard from Aaron tonight – except when his voice rang throughout the empty hallways asking them to gather here.

Maybe I shouldn't have come here tonight, thought Phelan, his eyes still on that empty seat. If word leaks out about the mutiny, I can't bear to look him in the face once I take over his leadership!

He groaned as he collapsed into the nearest pile of soft leather.

At first, he thought he was seeing two Faolans.

Then the other wolf – the one sitting furthest from him – shrunk back into the shadows. Or so it seemed, until Phelan's eyes widened at the sight of his fur, as dark as the sea at night.

No other wolf, blue or black, had ever shown such an indecipherable colour to the world.

He sat facing Phelan on his right side, completely unaware of the wolf-like chipmunk's presence. It was here that Phelan first noticed the mystery of the scar – a long jagged line traversed over the wolf's eye.

Maybe... Aaron wants me to leave... and he's considerate enough to find a replacement for me? So that's why he called this meeting! I should probably go over and give the new guy a proper welcoming.

No sooner had the idea crossed Phelan's mind than the real Faolan blocked his view.

"Oh hi, Phelan. Sorry, I haven't introduced you yet." The arctic-timber wolf pointed to the back. "This is–"

"Naylor," the black wolf said as he turned to face them, revealing more scars stretched from his snout across to the left cheek. "So, you're the guy who took on Prometheus single-handedly? I've heard plenty about you, but it seems there's more to you than meets the eye, Phelan Seville."

As Naylor held out his paw, Phelan shook it, feeling every rough bump and scratch on his pads.

"Naylor's one of the Arch, just like us," explained Faolan. "He was on scout duty before I first came here. Now I'm taking over his job."

Phelan glanced from the younger pup to the older wolf.

"If you're one of us, how come I haven't seen you before? And what are you doing here?"

"Can't a former team mate drop in and say hi?"

Faolan wasn't the only one getting a kick out of Phelan's bewildered look as Naylor pointed at his snout.

"You don't get this kind of handiwork from your average field mission. But when you make your own path, well, the consequences you face are yours alone."

And then it hit Phelan. The faded shirt, the look only found on an animal in the wild, and the way he carried himself so distantly like a tourist...

"Y-You're a wanderer now?"

"That I am. Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but I've been carrying that title a lot longer than you." Suddenly, Naylor didn't appear as distant as the night made him.

"Why did you leave?"

"Let's just say I wasn't too happy with the hand I was dealt with. The Arch is just one card, but the world is a full deck waiting for me to discover its secrets."

"And you went off wandering, just like that?" asked Phelan. But when he puts it that way, it does sound kind of cool.

"Nah, I had to go through Aaron first. We had a little disagreement, but what's the story of your life without a little conflict? Eventually, he decided it was for the best and I haven't regretted that decision ever since."

Phelan hung onto every word, almost desperate for more, but his ears drooped once Naylor stared back with raised brows.

"So, that's it? No 'battle to restore my honour'? Not even the slightest 'you brought shame upon the Arch, now you're exiled'?" You're expecting me to believe that Aaron gave you the boot because you wanted your freedom?

The moonlight reflected in Naylor's eyes turned them into a pair of sapphires that burned fiercely, as though searing deep into Phelan's soul.

"I know what you're thinking, Seville," said the black wolf. "But Aaron's one of the most understanding 'munks I've known. It just didn't feel right for me to be his lapdog the rest of my life."

Staring into the face of his younger charge, Naylor rested his chin sagely on his paws. "Frankly, I'm surprised you want him to replace Aaron. Ambitious, yes, but a risky choice – especially for a newbie who's only been here three days."

Did he just call me a newbie? Phelan smiled, gritting his teeth. The bloody nerve!

"What are you doing? You said I had your trust!" Faolan hissed.

"If there's something you should know, this Arch feeds on two things – trust and words. I said that you had my trust, Faolan. But sooner or later, you'll find that words can be used to best serve you – or fail you when you need it the most."

Before anybody could protest another word, the doors crashed into the walls with an ear-splitting boom. Everyone jumped, turning to face the source of the noise.

As Aaron stormed in, Phelan understood the purpose of this gathering. There had been plenty a dark cloud lingering over the golden-furred chipmunk's head. But tonight, his face was written with the forecast of a maelstrom about to erupt in this very room.

I might as well be prepared to face the music. Please let Aaron go easy on me. After all, I did save the Arch from ending up on the front page – well, almost.

The room became a tad more grey than usual. The silence that followed was so intense; you could hear the beating of a guilty heart.

"Brothers of the Arch, thank you for coming here on such a short notice. I've called this council for two reasons. First, I'm sure all of you are aware by now of Naylor's return. He has decided to stay with us while taking a break from his travels. I am expecting everyone to treat Naylor as you yourself would treat your fellow comrades."

He spoke without the slightest note of hospitality, despite attempting to keep his temper in-check.

"It has come to my attention that some of you are not satisfied with the way the Arch is running. That I am no longer worthy of serving you as your leader.

"But what I never expected was to hear this backtalk from somebody who has returned to our ranks tonight. He had the value that I cherish in a teammate – the courage to say it right in my face."

That last sentence came out like the scraping of chalk on a whiteboard. And if looks could kill, then Aaron would've been guilty of committing a massacre.

"I don't have to tell you how extremely disappointed I am... with the whole lot of you."

Phelan watched as Faolan shrank deeper into his seat, the silent whimpers turning him into a puppy ashamed of the deed he'd done. If only the ground would open and swallow him up to avoid Aaron's murderous gaze.

No one got up to readjust the heater, even with the glacial chill creeping over the room like the touch of a disembodied hand.

Aaron took a deep breath. "Nonetheless, we are still a democracy, and so we shall abide by the rules. If anyone feels worthy enough to represent the Arch, stand up and address the council."

Without knowing what he was doing, as though pulled by the strings of some puppeteer, Phelan rose from his seat, facing the sea of eyes like a trembling leaf.

"First of all, I'm not here to upset the fine balance the Arch has struggled to achieve. Nor am I here to usurp any well-earned position by means of malcontent. Aaron, if I've caused you any hurt or humiliation, please know it's not my intention to do so, and I humbly apologise.

"But some of the council has reason to believe that a change for the better is necessary. I won't mention any names, but they have stood by me when I have doubted myself. And now, I wish to return the favour by standing for what they believe in."

A quick clear of the throat was all Phelan needed to steel himself.

"I only ask that when you vote for your new leader, don't do it for the sake of currying favour, but let it be from the depths of your own instincts. Trust in what you stand by, and you will already have made the right choice."

His trench coat still sticky with sweat, Phelan sat down, but letting all that air off his chest did make him feel a lot lighter.

"Great speech," said Naylor, flashing him a congratulatory wink. He even brought his paws together in a mild applause, which soon led to an enthusiastic outburst of clapping from the rest of the Arch.

Only Scar kept his paws to his sides, while Aaron looked ready to squash his competition.

"Alright, let's get this over with. Phelan, I want you to stand in the corner over there."

Phelan did as he was told, not wanting to ignite the flames despite the endless questions now burning in his mind. To his surprise, Aaron had disappeared to the other corner, as though wanting to stay as far away from him as possible.

"Since Phelan and I are the only candidates, it is only fair that we take no part in tonight's election. Naylor, you're a former member of the Arch, but certain privileges are still bestowed onto you."

The black wolf remained glued to his seat, shaking his head. "I don't want to sound like a party pooper, but I'd rather not increase the odds tonight."

His request was approved with a simple nod from Aaron.

"For the rest of you, you're only allowed to vote once. Take your time to decide, for this will determine the outcome of the Arch – as well as yours. When you're ready, take your place on either side of the room," he said, pointing to both occupied corners.

A heavy silence now descended upon the room. Everyone seemed to be involved in a fierce battle of wits as they stared each other down with twitchy eyes. Perhaps they believed they could coax the others into making the first move.

The first to step up was somebody Phelan had least expected.

"You know where my place stands," growled Scar, his dark features unfolded as clearly as a map with only one possible route.

Aaron had secured his first vote.

Next was Faolan, with Stella perched faithfully on his shoulder.

"Told you we'd stand by you, no matter what," the timber wolf wrapped an arm around Phelan's relaxed frame.

"Kept our word, we did, yup yup!"

The votes may have been tipped in his favour, but Phelan felt a gnawing sense of uneasiness at the sight of the two remaining members. Moreover, it was impossible to read the slightest wrinkle on one of their faces, let alone predict where his loyalties lay.

"No offense, Phelan. But some of us prefer to stick to the old ways," said Kira, and a few seconds later, Phelan got his answer.

I knew it! Just like picking teams back in gym class! Phelan quickly analysed the situation. Except right now, everyone's showing their true colours tonight.

Scar and Kira, ever the unstoppable pair, stood like a bunch of sentinels guarding Aaron's front, while Phelan had his own menagerie consisting of Faolan and Stella.

It was anybody's game now. All eyes were fixed on Rhodas.

"Aw man, why do I always have to pick last?" he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

On one side he saw the righteous path, beckoning to him in a chorus of hallelujahs, while the other was shrouded in darkness, but clouded with that irresistible aroma of freshly-baked cookies.

There were a thousand and one outcomes now riding on this single choice.

"I'm sorry it's come to this," said Rhodas, a sigh escaping his remorseful breath.

With a hop, a skip and a jump, he landed...

Right over to give Phelan a pat on the back.

And just like that, whatever sense of security gathered over the past months had now been shattered by a treacherous blow. Everyone else waited to see Aaron's disappointment, but he seemed to be all smiles, both from the inside and out.

"The Arch has spoken. It is with a heavy heart that I shall resign, but I now pass the torch in the hopes that our new leader will carry us to a better future. Phelan, step forward please."

Rather than to bask in this brief moment of celebration, Phelan had been dreading this moment the whole night. He knelt before the golden-furred chipmunk, telling himself he wouldn't be surprised if Aaron decided to strike him down right here and now.

"In your newly governed position, do you promise to respect the needs of your fellow comrades, to guide and serve them to the best of your capabilities?"

"I do," said Phelan.

"Do you promise to uphold the code of the Arch, to defend its brotherhood and protect it, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do."

"And do you promise to let go of all earthly attachments as well as your love for the chipette known as Maia?"

"I – what?" That last question hit him like a blow to the guts.

"I didn't become leader overnight, you know," said Aaron, without the slightest of sarcasm flashing beneath those silver eyes. "Anyway, you've only got yourself to blame for revealing too much. If I didn't know any better, I'd say your feelings for her were stronger before that fight with Scar."

Phelan felt Scar's menacing smirk like a vulture feeding on his misery across the end of the room, but he held his tongue.

"On top of that, she's from the Order of Light! How could you do this, Phelan? Consorting with the enemy! Now she's becoming a liability to us!"

His worst fears realised, it was clear to Phelan even during this changing of the tides as to who was in charge – and who ended up obeying every command as his lapdog.

"That's not true! Maia's the sweetest and most trustworthy girl ever! You don't know her like I do!"

"I'm sorry Phelan, but I can't take that chance. Every second you spend with her puts the Arch closer to danger. It's time to put an end to this relationship."

"Aaron's right," said Naylor, quick to offer a sympathetic paw. "A captain's the master of his own ship, but he's tied down to one vessel, as should you."

The night grew colder, dismal in its darkened state. Though the rage coursed silently through his veins, Phelan found that he would not; could not bring himself to despise the chipmunk he once called friend.

Aaron might have been a lot of things, but being a thoughtless, insensitive jerk was not one of them. Or was it?

"So I'm asking you again, will you let go of your love for Maia?"

The room held its breath, eagerly anticipating their new leader's decision.

To Be Continued...

In case you're wondering, Naylor's not my OC; he belongs to Scarlett Rabbit. :P

To the 7 readers who took their time to vote, thank you for that one little click which made all the difference. Your choice matters as much as mine for determining the outcome of this story. :D

With that said, how will Phelan cope with performing Maia's Marking ceremony? And what's to become of their blossoming relationship?

Tune in to find out, and please don't forget to review! Until then, I'll see you soon!

"Always trust in your stories"

~ Wind