Malalia Fatalis

The yearling grinned up at him in answer, primed to listen to tales of lives lived long ago, and far away. Of Ciroc, and Alacritis, and how old Valhalla had found enemies in both. That was life for most packs, she supposed -- never without some conflict around the corner. If it wasn’t resources they competed for, it was something else. Had she the time, she would have asked what the darkly-aligned Tortugans had done, outside of playing the bad guys in Cairo’s rendition. But it was a story, after all, even if it was history. And like a child hearing a bedtime tale, she listened closely.

She’d snickered softly at the mention of Cairo the first, tail thumping with a look that said That’s you! And later, a soft, bittersweet smile came for Guinevere. A strong woman, she seemed to be. A warrior, a Queen. Malalia remembered what Cairo had told her beneath the willows, and so the fatal illness that he spoke of was not a surprise. She couldn’t help but furrow her brows at Guinevere’s request for secrecy. Why? Why wouldn’t she want her loved ones near her, even at her inevitable end?

Thereafter, a chase ensued. A search to find a cure, mysterious assassins, a race against the clock. The wind was howling fiercely, now, the flurries pelting against the cottage door; but the girl paid them no mind. If she hadn’t been paying attention before, she was certainly enraptured now, her eyes widening at Erani’s brush with death. The escape had been a close one, and the wounded healer would not be left unscathed for her prize.

But it wasn’t enough, she knew.

It was a strange juxtaposition: here she was, years in the future and knowing the tale’s end. And in that same moment, when Cairo spoke of her, Erani must have held some measure of hope, still. Not knowing what was coming. For Guinevere; for her, too.

The girl didn’t hold her breath, but she did shoot him a rather impatient look. He couldn’t hold her in suspense like that!

And incredibly, it was another volcano eruption that brought change to the pack, pushing them out of Alacritis, uprooted once more. Then he paused, and she had to let loose a bit of a snort at the question. A wide, fang-filled grin spread across her muzzle, and she shook her head, saying, “Of course not.” Was he serious? The brute had only to glance over to see how invested she was, Mal wasn’t just humoring him.

But wait -- “So did anything end up happening with the Tortugas? Did it take them a while to find Boreas after that?” And what of Erani and the first Cairo? Surely the tale it didn’t end there.



"Speech"

He grinned, almost wickedly at her impatience, a laugh escaping before she posed a question. He winked, not answering, but nodding to indicate he’d get to it. “During the travel, the healer Erani and Cairo’s children became separated briefly from the rest of Valhalla, settling for a night in a forest of Redwoods in the north, until Cairo found them and led them to Valhalla, where it had settled in the west, in a place called Vericona Plains. Cairo raised his and Guinevere’s adopted son to King, to stand as alpha until Syrinx was old enough to lead. “Each of his young children was given goals to strive toward, Chrysanthe and Epiphron destined to train hard for high ranks befitting nobly-born wolves. Eos had gone off on her own, or gotten separated—oddly, it’s unclear. She’s like an enigma, in and out of the shadows and light, then gone again.” He shrugged lightly, thoughtfully. “Cairo never discerned between his blood children and his adopted sons. They were all his children, and by now Erani was as much a mother to them as their true mother had been in the very short time which they’d been able to know Guinevere. But dissent festered in the heart of one son. Neo. He chafed, finding it unfair that his siblings seemed destined to high ranks, even if they must work as hard as any wolf in the pack to ensure they reached them.” Fathomless sapphire eyes darkened, ears tilting back as his tone became ominous and sad. “His discontent festered and welled within him as time went on, while Preston became Erani’s primary apprentice, in line to become next Leader Healer. Eventually, Neo ran away.” His eyes flicked to Lia’s as he went on, “Neo fled to Tortuga, who had settled upon the flanks and peak of Mount Volkan. Yeah, that Mount Volkan. Got to give them kudos, really, settling on an active volcano’s flanks after Mount Animi blew in Alacritis.” His lips twitched in a grim smile, mirthless as he fell back into the cadence of story-teller. “Neo joined Tortuga and shared inside information about Valhalla freely. Eventually, Chrysanthe challenged Tortuga for him and won. Neo became Valhalla’s first slave. And the last. Much of what Collision announced threw the pack into an uproar, among them Erani, pregnant with her only litter. She was subsequently demoted and Preston was promoted early. Collision stepped down shortly after that meeting.” His eyes dropped briefly then rose back to the girl’s as he added, “In the meantime, prior to this uproarious meeting, Valhalla had been prospering, settling strongly with its great numbers. Glaciem had settled in the north, and in the south there settled a new pack, called Seracia. Its King and Queen were Gerhardt and Adette Mathias. They had children, adopted from what I hear. Maverick and Kamala were the more prominent names. Maverick was bright red, green-eyed, and had white appaloosa lacing over his hips. Kamala, if I remember rightly, was grey and spotted, with one red leg.” He smiled, almost dreamily, “One day, Epiphron was out of Valhallan lands, exploring the world, when she happened upon a prince. Maverick. They formed a fast friendship, which quickly kindled into young love. As time went by, they would meet now and then, and that affection only grew, despite the worry about having a relationship between two packs.” A faint chuckle whispered from his chest. “The alphas of Seracia and Valhalla eventually met as well, Collision and Gerhardt, and politics happened. A betrothal was formed. Between Maverick… and Chrysanthe.” His eyes watched her closely to gauge her reaction to the plot twist before he went on, “Part of the announcements Collision gave at that infamous meeting, was the betrothal, which neither sister had been aware of before. Chrysanthe to be married to a man she didn’t love, Epiphron to become Valhalla’s alpha beside Collision. He was shouted down by many, particularly when he demoted Erani. He’d stripped the most experienced healer in the pack, perhaps in the lands at that time, as many healers from other packs came to her for wisdom, or her rank and given it to an inexperienced wolf, who vanished mere months later.” His head cocked as his eyes roved upward, then back to Lia as he threw an edge into his voice, suspense. The two sisters would be preparing for their heart-breaking destinies for the next season, until Cairo himself called a meeting, with a man by his side named Icarus, who spoke not one word, and left with no trace. He announced that Valhalla was no longer a family like it had once been, much as Collision had announced previously. Nor did he lift the demotion of Erani. He raised Icarus to alpha, with Epiphron at his side, though she would be the true leader. Chrysanthe spoke out against the change. “But it would be Epiphron, Alphess now, who took control of fate. She stepped down, renouncing the throne to Chrysanthe, and taking her sister’s place to become Maverick’s wife and Queen. The choice was met with favor until—“ He shifted closer, eyes intense, “Syrinx returned from nowhere, having become scarce in the time between meetings. He immediately sought to seize control, ranking wolves left and right. And Chrysanthe defended her right to rule.” His eyes burned into hers, seeking to bring her into the scene he painted, one that had been painstakingly retold down the line from Erani and Cormalin who let none of the story fade in her eldest daughter’s mind as she passed it down—in fact, Surreal had been present to witness it herself, and tell it from both their perspectives to Regulus. “The brother and sister clashed then and there before Valhalla. Their father Cairo returned from having departed to see his children battling and collapsed. He was revived, and Syrinx was defeated. But Cairo’s time would be drawing to a close.” He straightened from the intense posture and smiled smoothly, tone lighter. “With the issue of twisted fates assuaged, wedding preparations began in earnest, and Chrysanthe announced the return of Valhalla’s familial ways. Erani was reinstated, others given ranks, and Cairo was well enough, come winter, to see Epiphron and Maverick become one. That evening, after the ceremony and celebrations had faded long into the night, they and the Seracians who had attended the wedding, left for their new lives in Seracia.” He wiggled the toes of his good paw, smiling gently, “Life in Valhalla returned to normal, with Chrysanthe a firm rock, squarely where she was meant to be. She was a strong, brave Queen. She led Valhalla well in her time. But alas, joy is always short-lived. Late that winter, at the cusp of spring, no sooner had Cairo admitted his heart to Erani, he passed on, as you recall. His death was a blow to all that knew and loved him, and Erani, who had always stood by him through it all, held his memory in her heart for the rest of her life. Her mate had vanished, and never returned.” His head bowed briefly, a gesture of respect to the dead. “Time would pass, wolves ranked. Erani’s daughter became a beta in training to her uncle Cormalin, the healer’s brother. And Liberty, daughter of the longest standing beta of the time, Aislyn, would also become a beta in training. But it would be she who became the catalyst for true war.” He trailed off, watching her with that devious little grin as he asked playfully, “How’m I doing?” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

She listened as Cairo wove the tale. Ear ears flickered, lost in her imagination as Neo was conjured up. The jealous son. And eventually, a traitor to his pack. She couldn’t fathom such a thing, why he felt that the light of his siblings dimmed his own, to such an intense degree. Mal had certainly never felt that way with her own siblings. Had she ever been envious? Of course… but not enough, never enough, to betray the ones she loved.

A soft, wry smile came for the tale of Epiphron and Maverick. Young love was a nice touch, to be sure, but a little more interesting was their allegiances. And Malalia thought she knew where the drama might be going, a secret tryst between wolves from different packs… but she was utterly, jaw-droopingly surprised when Cairo uttered the name of Chrysanthe. She sputtered wordlessly, her whole body stilling as Cairo went on. She had to fight to keep her attention, though, because her brain was stuck a few sentences back. She’d barely expected a betrothal, much less a different bride altogether. Jeez….

But the yearling blinked several times and tuned back in. It seemed Collision was changing the pack left and right — for what reason, she couldn’t guess. And then, Cairo returned. Power was taken and given up several times over, the hierarchy of Valhalla seeming to break apart.

And suddenly, Cairo held her gaze intensely, the scene as vivid in her mind as if it was happening before her very eyes. Her hackles raised in spite of herself, anticipation curling in her gut. Who would win out?

Just as suddenly, her companion relaxed, the suspense washed over in the blink of an eye. Syrinx was beat, order was restored, and it all ended in a giant, happy wedding. She exhaled slowly, as Cairo went over the story he’d told her long before.

She snorted at the question. “You seriously have to ask that? Now you’re just pulling my tail.” She shook her head. “That’s… um, a really rough start. And to think it’s not over yet…”

Oooo but he had the girl good and enthralled in the story, and he was pleased she was enjoying it. He chuckled softly at her retort, but nodded in agreement at her following observation. It was a long and vivid tale, and it was all true. At least as far as he knew. He dropped back into the cadence of a storyteller, voice growing solemn and stoic. “There was a great storm, a flash flood sweeping into the Valhallan lands. One of those lost was the oldest standing beta, Aislyn. She drowned in her den, and her daughter, Liberty, was barely spared, her mother’s last moments spent rescuing her only child.” He cast his memories back over what he’d been told. Liberty had made a full explanation at that meeting, and both Erani and Surreal had been present for it. “Liberty was barely a yearling, but in her grief, she wandered, and ran into the new King of Glaciem. Isardis Armada. He was an Albino, egotistical and prideful. The girl, in an attempt to wash away her grief, flirted with the King, tempted him. She came to her senses belatedly, but had already given her name and Valhalla’s name to the Ice King. She fled home, but the king pursued, coming upon Valhallan borders and … requesting,” His tone implied demanding was more the tone as his lip curled slightly, “That Chrysanthe hand Liberty over to him. Naturally, Chrysanthe refused..” His eyes darkened as he spoke on, “The King, not one to be refused something he desired, made his intention to challenge for the girl known, to occur in a set time. Chrysanthe came out victorious, but war was looming, the challenge having devolved into fights, and Chrysanthe’s mate having been taken by Argent, Isardis’ … y’know, it was never clear whether she was his mate or just a high-ranking wolf. He was known for having litters with multiple women. Further fighting would have ensued, but Erani stepped in and prevented the conflict between her brother and Isardis’ son Taurig, who was one of kinder heart and more honorable integrity.” He fell silent for a beat, running through the events that had been passed down. “Taurig would eventually leave Glaciem, before war truly broke out between Valhalla and Glaciem, claiming Tortuga, which had disbanded. Isardis publicly disowned and maimed his own son for claiming a pack that Taurig might well have allied with his father. Instead, he gained a new mother. Erani.” His lips twitched in a faint smile. The mirth was quelled by solemnity once more as he went on. “War preparations ensued, Syrinx having made a return once more with his and Eos’ children. Chrysanthe instated him as second Alpha, and you can guess how that went. Orders and militant ideals thrown hither and yon. But in times of war, training was important. And Azalea, daughter to Collision, gave herself over to Glaciem in order to retrieve Gideon. I think if she knew what would happen to her in her time there… She might have thought twice. And then it hit. The young and old were shepherded to Seracia, who had loaned several of their warriors to assist in the defense of Valhalla. Tortuga as well supplied warriors and healers—Viridiane and Io Sovari among them.” His voice burned with distaste and quiet fury as he continued onward with the story. “Isardis marched upon Valhallan borders, he and his Argent murdering a man who wasn’t even a member of the pack. Just there and the wrong time and place, to be slaughtered on the border. With Glaciem marched members of a pack called Lentajin, if I recall the name right. Battle broke out. Prisoners were taken on both sides. Cormalin from Valhalla, Bronze and Themisto from Seracia. Satis and Impra, two of Isardis’ daughters, were taken by Valhalla. Chrysanthe lost an eye in the battle against Argent. And Glaciem lost a wolf to death. I believe he made the mistake of calling Collision’s daughter a whore, or something to that effect, within earshot of the father himself.” He heaved a sigh. “Despite the hard-fought battle, Valhalla lost the siege, and lost Liberty in the process, to Glaciem. The pack wasn’t disbanded, luckily. Perhaps he had plans. Azalea had escaped Glaciem, but not without lasting marks. She would come to birth two sons, boys she did not willingly conceive… sons of Isardis.” His voice was grim. It was a hard, dark time in Valhallan history, a hard blow to a pack that had not been the antagonists to start the war. Life would return to a fragile norm, Chrysanthe calling a meeting soon after the battle to announced that Valhalla would be moving to an Island. The move was made, yet Erani, struck ill, was forced to remain at home in the den she had called home since her pregnancy with her first and only litter. The rest of the pack lived reasonably comfortably on Nephilim Island. It would seem that life would return to normal, that the trouble was over.” His tone implied that more strife was still to come to Valhalla of Old. It was heavy and sad, an underlying current of anger vibrating in his words. “A yearling of Glaciem, named Artemis, challenged for Valhalla. And Chrysanthe lost the fight. Valhalla fell. A Valhallan by the name of Seraphine in turn, at the same challenge, challenged Isardis for Glaciem, but failed. Artemis released the Valhallans… all but two. Azalea’s sons, Kismet and Soren.” His eyes were flinty sapphire, before they softened and he stated softly with some irony, “If Isardis thought Valhalla finished with his pawn’s victory, he was sorely mistaken. Erani stepped up, and reformed Valhalla on the shores of Nephilim Isle. The pack flocked to her, and within hours of falling, Valhalla was reborn again, a phoenix from the ashes.” His eyes twinkled slightly as he glanced at Lia, a crooked smile on his features as though he might again break from the story to ask if he was doing alright. Instead he went on, voice regaining a sense of hope and strength. “Erani returned Valhalla to their proper home, as Artemis had not claimed them, and Valhalla began to thrive again. Families were made, children born, alliance made. And, in time… Erani ended the war. It came in a moment of chance encounters. Glaciem’s Queen had been injured exploring Hell’s River, and Erani traded her healing for Peace and the return of Azalea’s sons. The trade went through, and Glaciem never caused trouble with Valhalla again. Rumor says Isardis was not happy with his Queen’s choice, but it seems he had become bored with harassing Valhalla… I suppose it was because he had Liberty.” A note of disgust touched his voice at the last word. “It seems that the girl, now a woman, had decided she liked it quite a lot in Glaciem. After all Valhalla had gone through in her defense, she threw it all away. We’ve no information on what her story was in the end.” He shook his head, dismissing Liberty as if she were no longer worth mentioning. “Valhalla was strong, healthy, flourishing. Life had truly taken a turn for the better.” His lips quirked in a slight, smiling grimace as he sighed. “Of course, it never stays that way. The continent as a whole was struck with a vicious plague. Tears of blood, hallucinations and fever… horrible. Healers from all over Boreas searched for a cure. Erani’s own daughter Surreal had contracted it, as well as several others in Valhalla.” His eyes fell away. “Several died before the cure was at last found. Viridiana Sovari brought it to the other packs, and in the next few days, turned right around and Challenged Erani for Valhalla. The Queen was old, and while she fought valiantly, she fell under the younger woman’s strength. It seemed, for a very long time, that Valhalla was indeed, done for good.” His eyes flicked up to study Lia as he fell silent, watching to see what kinds of connections or observations she’d make. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think