stages

Zee tore from the castle enraged, the anger and denial enough to keep her on her feet and moving even while her body felt to be tearing into pieces. Gwyn was wrong, it was the only explanation possible. Or perhaps the woman was simply being too cautious, was too scared to offer even the basic guarantee of health so long as a shred of worry remained. What was happening to Zee was no different than any other sickness of body or infection of cut, and just like she'd watched countless wolves be mended and made whole, someone would fix her too. Hopefully that someone would be Iolaire, if Gwyn did as he was bid and sent Sirius out looking for her. Zee expected pushback from that idea too - the healer might say if Seer left that Zee would succumb alone without him in his absence. She snorted at the thought, grimacing as the exhale tightened her belly and put pressure upon the source of the internal agony.

The castle was lovely in autumn and Zee reflected momentarily on how lucky her daughter and son-in-law were to have this phenomenon show itself with such timing. With autumn brought a warmth above and beyond the bitter chill of winter, it melted the snow and turned the leaves and while the air was still crisp and cold it felt near tropical compared to the frigid north Zee had grown accustomed to. The pups would have crunchy piles of leaves to jump in and beautiful sunsets to watch before bed. They would be weaned and raised in a more forgiving season than winter, and perhaps be old enough to appreciate the snow and the games to be played in it when they were a few weeks older. A wistful smile touched her lips and from them, Zee sighed. Was the snow even set to return anytime soon? The way the autumn leaves were threatening to break off from their branches and fall, she assumed it may come any day now. Though where magic was concerned, one could never know.

How did magic fit into their world? These events were unmistakably unnatural - this autumn, the statues and the long night the year prior. All unique oddities that seemed to bring reward and yet danger, too. While Zee had not heard of any wolves inflicted with pain or sickness on this festival, she could not help but reflect on her own situation. Could her pain be related, in some way? Azure had been one of the first wolves in the world to get terribly sick when the Long Night had come. That sickness presented so differently to so many and even took lives where the host was weak enough. Zee knew she was not weak, but who truly was strong enough to fight the will of the Gods?

Still she discarded the idea.If this was some sickness terrifying and fatal, Gwyn had assumed it might have begun at her most recent litter's birthing. That day had been well before the storms had broken, revealing the widespread statues. It could not be both the fault of her children and the fault of the Gods, and Zee hated to even think of blaming her children.

Onward she pressed through the castle courtyard, feeling the leaves crunch beneath her paws and watching as more overhead danced loosely in the wind. Autumn was death, and death had come to Boreas and Auster. At the thought, the pain in her belly intensified. Zee's maw broke open in a pant, her spine arching as she curled inward once more to fight through the wave of pain. The cold autumn wind felt like knives sinking deep into her bones, chilling her to the core and bringing shivers to her lithe frame that even the Col had not yet manage to produce. Gwyn was right - something was wrong. She lifted her horned head high, squinting into the filtered sunlight through the trees. What did I do wrong? From hearing of Azure's story second hand, he had been punished with an early sickness for attacking the figure who had appeared before him. The same diety who had granted Zee her horns, Sirius' claws, her crystalline fur as well as the strange strip of fabric. Inlaid with something curative she supposed, Zee had been promised it would help her family in some way or form. Having gifted it to her daughter just weeks ago, it was out of her reach, now.

Though if the strip could dare cure death itself, Zee knew she would not want it. It would be better off to someone younger, more vital to this world and who had not yet lived their life. Zee had been a queen, she had loved, she had lost, she had experienced the eruption of a volcano, the frost that opened up a northern bridge of ice. She had seen the wrath of the Gods and benefited from their benevolence too. Yes, Zee had lived, and trying to stretch that beyond what was intended for her felt wrong in an instinctual way.

If Death was coming for her, she would meet it with the same grace with which she had met all other of life's challenges. Autumn saw death in wide numbers, from animals born too soon before the cold to plants that would wilt and shrink back into the earth beneath the snow. Zee knew she was not superior to the rest of nature, she had no hope of outrunning this fate. The more she began to acknowledge it, the more exhausted she grew. Her body had begun to accept the toll upon it and was urging her to lay down here and now at the base of one of the shedding trees. As tempting as the thought was, there was too much unfinished. There was no way to know how much time she had, but Zee was determined to see her demise to be on her own terms. Turning from the gardens she moved back through the courtyard, avoiding the sharp crisp of the leaf piles and how the sound echoed painfully through her skull. It was time to search out her husband and with him, make a few decisions.


Word Count: 1039