Skye walked back into her bedroom, wanting to check up on the Husky currently residing there. When she walked in, however, she found the Husky asleep once again, and the tray of food on the bedside table empty. Skye smiled, quietly taking the tray and walking back downstairs, humming to herself. She set the tray and cup on her table, grabbing the half empty bottle of wine and poured herself a goblet full.

She kept humming to herself, thinking as she drank her wine. She grabbed a piece of bread and munched on it, and wondered what would end up happening next in The Great Scheme of Things. They had the prince in their custody, Ethan was still alive, and the Husky up stairs had unlocked power of great potential. Now what?

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Chase was brought into another house, stumbling on the floor but managing to keep his balance. He stood up fully and immediately turned around to face the bear and cat behind him. He was extremely pissed off, and though he knew staying calm was his best option, he started to yell. 'What the hell is this about?' He got no response. 'Answer me, damnit!'

'Yelling will get you nowhere, you know.' A voice said behind Chase. Chase turned, and once again he found that he was almost compelled to be fearful of this man. It was the same wolf who had bested him in one-on-one combat, standing at the top of the stairs, twirling a knife in his hand. His voice was calm and even, and he looked at Chase with contempt in his eyes. Chase unwillingly shivered. The wolf seemed to have noticed, and he smiled. 'You have every right to be afraid of me, pup. It's understandable, nothing to be ashamed of.'

Chase was offended, and he immediately stood up to his fullest height. 'I am the furthest thing from being afraid of you. You may have been able to kidnap me, and I applaud you on your success, but my father will have all of your heads on silver platters once he finds me.'

Ethan smiled. 'That is going to be a challenging job, considering he's dead by my hands.'

Chase gave away nothing. 'Your bluffing.'

Ethan was liking his German Shepherd more and more. 'Trust me, pup, I rarely bluff. I have no reason to lie to you.' He watched carefully for any sort of reaction.

Chase found himself involuntarily shivering again, and he cursed himself. 'Damnit, stop shivering! You are a grown male! The adopted son of a king and the future king of Fenrir!' Chase looked the wolf dead in the eyes, and he remembered an old lesson his adoptive father taught him.

'He was weak then. Only the strong survive, right? Isn't that how this world works?'

Ethan let out a laugh. 'I suppose you're right. But here's the thing, pup. One thing we all learn out here, even those who seem weak can undo you.' Ethan suddenly scowled. 'All of us here have had it happen to us.'

'But what does this have to do with me? I get I'm royalty, but you killed my father. How does that help you?'

Ethan looked over at Callie and Boris, gesturing at them to leave. They nodded and turned to leave. Ethan walked down the stairs, toward Chase. He pointed at his table. 'Sit down, pup.'

'I'm not a pup.'

Ethan laughed again. 'Maybe, but you haven't gone through what I've been through. Tell me, did your mother ever tell you stories to get you to go to sleep?' Chase nodded, unsure of where this was going. 'Then sit. It's about time that you hear a story that actually matters.'

The pair sat down, and Chase noticed that the wolf's eyes were already cloudy with memory. He spoke again. 'And I ask you not to interrupt me or try to escape. All it would lead to is me hurting you in more ways than you could count.'

Ethan leaned back in his chair, sliding an already full cup of water at Chase. 'Listen closely now, pup, and you might learn something.'

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Twelve years before.

The cold lands of the Far North. Inhabited by some of the most ruthless tribes and clans in the kingdoms, but also home to many peaceful peoples. The Vetr Stormr, translating to 'Winter Storm,' were highly attuned ice sorcerer's, and they prided themselves on both their martial prowess and wonderful ice sculptures that were often sold to royal families for no less than a bag of gold each, sometimes more.

The clan was made up primarily of wolves, though there were quite a few polar bears in their ranks. All had at least two traits in common: Almost all of them were white furred, and had some shade of blue eyes. There were very few exceptions to this, but they did exist. And one thing that every clan member had in common, without a doubt and with only one exception, they did not like outsiders unless they knew them personally.

That one exception, as it happened, was me.

I was a young and foolish pup at the time, and the world outside of my little reality fascinated me. I was always loyal to my clan, but the draw of the outside world was strong. I was sixteen at the time, and already I was an accomplished warrior. I had mastered my own form of combat, and all of my family was proud of me. I was well on track to become the next greatest warrior of the Vetr Stormr.

Then she arrived. That bitch. Gods, how I hate her now.

She was an outsider from the land called Barkingburg. I'm sure you've heard of it, a cloudy isle off the mainland. She wasn't royalty by any means, but the family there, a human one from what I understand, took her in. The bitch was power hungry, however. Nothing was ever enough for her. Money, status? All trivial matters compared to ruling her own kingdom. Having subjects to put in her service, force them into some form of slavery. That's all that mattered, and by the gods she knew how to manipulate people.

The Barkingburg dynasty was close to falling while she was there. The princess, who for some reason is still 'in power,' fell prey to her lies and deceptions. That was her downfall. She crossed the wrong person.

Sweetie got off easy, in my opinion.

A diplomatic mission from the Kingdom of Fenrir, and the king himself was coming. Your adoptive father was a strong ruler, I'll give him that. He went to Barkingburg to make an alliance with the rather isolated isle, to get them to open to trade and diplomacy. He wanted Barkingburg to open, and he came with all good intentions, for once in his godsdamn life. Sweetie changed that.

Through the course of the negotiations, Sweetie used her skills to manipulate everyone around her. After the first day, she somehow managed to convince the princess that the king was planning on invading Barkingburg. The negotiations ended there, and accusations were thrown. It damn near came close to bloodshed, and we were ready to kill.

And I see the look on your face, and yes, I was there. I was sixteen at the time. The Vetr Stormr was a strong ally of the king, at least at the time, and I was as loyal to the Kingdom of Fenrir as I was to my clan. I had no qualms about massacring the princess right then and there, if it came down to it.

Fortunately, it didn't go that way. The princess came right out and said that she believed what Sweetie had told her, that Sweetie was her most trusted friend, so on and so forth, and what she said was the truth.

After that little revelation, the tension was even worse. At this point, the only thing keeping us from slaughtering everyone in that room was the king's rationality and diplomacy skills and the Earl of Barkingburg staying relatively calm and copying the king's mood. The final negotiations went something like this; Barkingburg would become minor trading partners with Fenrir, at least in terms of whiskey and timber, while Fenrir would send back weapons and the like. Also part of the negotiations was that we would take back Sweetie, by demand of the princess, though the Earl seemed against this, for whatever reason. We agreed, and a decent but uneasy peace was reached. We took our leave with our new companion.

On our boat back, Sweetie seemed to take a liking to me. She found my powers to be 'unique and special.' Of course, my sixteen year old self let it go to my head. That entire boat ride back, I completely forgot the reason why she was being brought with us. Young love is truly blind, though I still believe that she indeed loved me back for a short time.

The next part of my story will be confusing, but bear with me. We arrived back in our lands after a month at sea. Sweetie and I had only gotten closer over that time, and I believe that the king found his way in. You see, my clan had long been wanting to have more power, a son or daughter on the throne. It went against our isolationist tendencies, but there we were. Most of my clan vouched for me, given my reputation and the fact that I had proven, through our strange wargames with the soldiers that were held once a year, to be a great leader.

The king never wanted that. He had three sons, and another bastard offspring, though they were inadequate leaders. They knew little of the sword compared to me and others, yet the king was stubborn. However, we made an agreement. My clan would take in Sweetie, teach her our 'customs' he called them, and then he would consider it.

Well, that's what we did. It was odd, to be sure, but it would be necessary to install a little more of our clan into the kingdom. Unbeknownst to us, the king was instead using Sweetie as a spy, and she did her job well. She stayed with me, mostly, learning what she could from me. My foolish self told her everything, against the wishes of my elders. They said 'never divulge all of your secrets to a stranger, as they will turn and use it against you.' I didn't listen.

Three months passed, and Sweetie was about as knowledgeable of my clan as I was. And over that time, we had only gotten closer. I was in love, too blind to see what might come of my actions.

It happened all in one night. I was sleeping peacefully, dreaming about her. Trust me, that's important later on. I woke up when I heard one of my brother's yell. I dashed out of my cabin room, only to find my brother dead on the floor with a Fenririan soldier over him, his sword washed in my brother's blood. I remember going berserk for a moment, and I sent an ice spear through that soldier's heart. He died slowly. I rushed over to my brother's body, but he was already dead.

There were more screams outside. I rushed again, and I found my village on fire. Fenririan soldiers dragged out my friends, slitting their throats. There was no honor, and no mercy. They killed everyone, sparing nobody. I went fully into a berserker rage, killing all of those I found.

I found my mother and my other brother fighting off a horde of those bastards in the center of the village. I slaughtered my way to them, and suffered a few wounds in the process. Once I joined them, I realized there were so few of the Vetr Stormr left. Twenty of us, fighting desperately to survive. My brother went down by my side, a sword through the chest. He died honorably, taking the soldier that dealt him the wound with him.

Soon, there were five of us. Then three, my mother, myself, and my uncle.

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Ethan exhaled slowly and released his hand from the knife he was holding, which had begun to frost over. It clattered on the table. 'The last thing I remember was my mother pressing this knife into my hands, and then waking up in the middle of a forest, which not too far off was an active volcano. This was the land of another clan, one that we had close ties to. The sha-woman, an aging dalmatian, found that the power of this thing granted teleportation, which is how I got out of there in the first place. I was lucky.'

Chase seemed confused for a moment. 'Okay, first, how were you already a master swordsman at sixteen? That takes years of training.'

Ethan sighed. 'Another story for another time. Look, for right now, you're stuck with me.' He gestured toward the stairs. 'The bedroom on the right is mine. The one on the left has some fresh clothes. Get changed, then come outside. We've got more to talk about.' Ethan stood up, and walked toward the door.

Chase held up his finger. 'One last question?'

Ethan turned and sighed. "Speak.'

'I know this is odd, given all that you just told me, but what happened to your father?'

Ethan smiled. 'Didn't you put the facts together? I'm the other bastard child.' He shrugged. 'Guess that makes us brothers, yeah?' He walked out, leaving Chase to wallow in his thoughts.

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Hey guys, Scotty here. I apologize for the short chapter beforehand, but I hope this makes up for it. So, I will later explain the rest of the backstory as to why the Fenririan forces attacked the Vetr Stormr (Winter Storm) and how Everst came into the thrallship of the Fenririan king.

Also, if you have any suggestions for later plot development or corrections with grammar, etc, just PM me or leave a comment. I'll see it after a while, trust me. But other than that, have a wonderful day!

P.S. I'll be posting another short after this. I'm not sure whether to put it for the restart of End of a Heartache or Welcome Home. Read it and then leave your opinion. There might also be a poll.