Vanta had not set paw in these woods for seasons, not since she was a mere yearling and the world was still a vast, uncharted expanse laid out before her crystalline eyes. The gnarled trees and the sentinel mountain had bore witness to her first breath, her growth, and now they would witness a chapter of change. The Fatalis princess had returned home. Not to be welcomed back into the mountain's embrace, but to seek absolution... and a familial blessing.

Her heart thrummed with trepidation as she ventured deeper, well past the border she had once patrolled. The ghost of her mother had chased her from these woods, and now, as a grown wolf, it summoned her back. The saber fangs that hung below her jaw - glistening like icicles in the sun - were not just an homage to her heritage; they were evidence that the path she'd chosen was one her mother approved of, a mutation granted to her by fire and flame during a restless fit of slumber. Only one thing was asked of her in return for the crystalline gift: that Vanta go home, that she seek her father before moving to forge her own path in the world.

Anxiety had begun to nip at her heels since the moment she'd crossed the border, an invisible weight that settled heavier overtop her with each step she took. The tightness in her chest, the subtle quiver in her limbs; Vanta could feel the familiar forest closing in on her, threatening to swallow her whole. Her mind raced with scenarios, each more daunting than the last - a cold dismissal from her father, a heated argument erupting amidst the stillness of the forest, or worse, an utter indifference that would render her dreams and ambitions... insignificant.

The uncertainty gnawed at her. Her heart pounded, her breaths coming a touch too fast, her ears tuned to the subtlest of sounds as if anticipating a confrontation at any turn. When had these woods - which she could once navigate literally with her eyes closed - transformed into a labyrinth of fear and dread? What if she, too, had changed too much to recognize? What if the the divide between her and her family had grown too wide to bridge?

The thought of her father's disapproval brought her knees to crumple and her spine to curve as Vanta tucked herself into a tan and blue little ball. There, at the base of a gnarled, towering oak, the girl whimpered. Too wracked with uncertainty to take even another step.

"Vanta"

He wasn't certain he believed Marshal. But the bird had never led him astray, but the news was so unexpected, so HOPEFUL, that he couldn't believe it. Nonetheless, he dropped everything he was working on, leaving his tools in the grass as he shot to his paws and raced through the Col. He pushed his ageing body as he dashed past the wolf on patrol at the border between the Col and Woods. He weaved through the crooked grown trees, following Marshals flight in the sky ahead of him. 


He found the scent of her before he found her form, and for a moment he was left blinking, confused. Where was she? But her pale body and crystalline markings stood out against the grass. As his eyes found her curled form, he was shot immediately back to the past. To a wolf that had been about as old as Vanta was now. Cowering in the bushes as lightning sparked in the sky ahead. His heart squeezed painfully and he couldn't breath. Zee, Zee…. Zee.


But it wasn't his wife before them, but their daughter. One lost, and now returned to him. He'd forgotten just how much she looked like her mother. Catching his breath, he trotted slowly forward, and knelt down beside her with clicking in his old knees. He drew his arms around her and pulled her close. “Vanta, Vanta, my love, are you injured? Who did this to you?” He would kill them.

Vanta felt his approach before she saw it, recognized the familiar cadence of her father’s heavy paws. The scent of him, intermingled with the earth and the tang of the forest, enveloped her before arms did. When his presence finally registered, a surge of emotions cascaded through her - relief, love, fear, all knotted together in the pit of her stomach. Her whimper intensified.

His arms encircled her then, and in that embrace, the years melted away. She was no longer Vanta, the knight, the warrior with a cause; she was a child, a Fatalis Princess, daughter of the strongest man she'd ever known and the woman she mourned every day. Sirius' voice, laced with concern, drew from her a soft, shakey breath. "I did this to myself, it’s all my fault." Vanta whispered into his fur. "I'm so sorry I left. I thought I had to get away, but I was just a child, scared and grieving." Her voice broke. "I just missed mom so much."

She clung to him and his embrace, a gesture that was achingly familiar yet distant in memory. Drawing a shuddering breath, she lifted her head from his chest just enough her crystalline eyes could meet his. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Vanta"

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Vanta, that loss will never leave you” he said quietly, speaking from experience. He hated that they lost her as well. That Vanta and her litter had barely gotten to know the wolf that had shaped all of their lives. He held her a little tighter to him. She was so big now, she had grown into her full size. His equal in height, despite her tightly curled posture. He rested his head gently on her back, breathing out a soft sigh over her fur. “There's nothing to forgive, Vanta. You're okay, you're alive, that's all that matters.” He kissed her forehead, and drew back a little, taking her in. 


She drew so many similarities to her mother, but the differences were stark too. Her crystal eyes and fur… and what was this? He taped gently beneath her chin. “These are new. You must tell me of your adventures, Vanta. You never picked a den before you left, but we can borrow Morts for a little while and get you some food and perhaps you'll tell me of your adventures?” He asked her softly. A stab of pain at the realisation she didn't know he had taken a mate. It would be sudden to her, unexpected. A pain he wished to spare her from.

Vanta felt her father’s sorrow intertwine with her own, a shared ache for the mother and mate they had lost. His embrace tightened and she could feel the echo of her childhood in his touch. She was larger now, her stature mirroring his, but in his arms, she was allowed to be small, to be the pup who once looked up to him. In her father's gentle hold, the world seemed to right itself once more.

His head rested upon her back, a gesture so familiar and comforting that it brought a tremor of relief to wrack her tense frame. With a slow nod, she collected herself, uncurling from her defensive posture. The mention of Morts' den stirred a faint curiosity within her, a whisper of change that she had yet to grasp. She noted the flicker of pain that crossed her father's face, too, but for now, the warmth of his offer and the promise of reconnection were enough that she could ignore the building unease.

"Okay." Vanta began, her voice somewhat steadier. "I would like that very much." She offered a small, tentative smile. "I do have a lot to tell you, but I want to hear your stories, too." Slowly she wormed her way from his embrace, shaking out her pelt as she was freed - the crystals in her saddle tinkling together like chimes.

"Vanta"

The Warlord nodded his head, releasing her fully and getting to his paws. He wanted to assure himself that she was whole and well, and getting food into her was a part of that. She was his child, and her absence had been frightening and painful. He led her through the forest to Morts den. With Halo and the kids taking a trip to the Hallows, it was quiet and peaceful, though the evidence of their presence was everywhere. It ripped up spots in the grass, to discarded toys. As they entered the den - making himself at home, as he knew Halo would bid him to - he smiled at the many beds. “Halo and Mortis had themselves a rather large litter.” He explained as he opened her supply of preserved food. Good old Halo, she always had food on hand.

He got an assortment of food for Vanta, and settled down beside her with some of his own. “There's a lot to tell you, how about we take turns, and each mention something that's happened?” he suggested. Hmm… where to begin? After her agreement, he landed on something to tell her. “A flood swept through the Col, and devastated the pack for most of the season. We lost Keahi and Ruga, and Stratum was injured” he said quietly, giving her a moment to absorb that.


"Speech"

The next several minutes were a blur as Sirius led her through the woods to Mortis' and Halo's home. She had been here before, long ago, when she was still a puppy - but like everything else, it had undergone change. At the base of the tree, all around, evidence of life - of a family's presence -  was etched into the landscape. Her eyes lingered upon the abandoned playthings of pups she had never met as they passed, moving not up into the tree, as expected, but beneath. "Right." She breathed, more to herself then to her father. "Puppies. Heights."

They stepped inside, the room opening up into an assortment of beds. She eyed them with wonder, but a twinge of something more. Sadness, for the moments she had missed. Her father's words brought a soft smile to her lips, despite the pang in her heart. "A large litter." She echoed, picturing the den bustling with the energy of new life. Where were they now, that her father could bring her here?

"They won't miss this?" She asked as her father placed the meal before her. The last thing Vanta wanted to do was to quite literally take food out of the mouths of her newest niblings. With his assurance, Vanta nodded and allowed herself a bite, murmuring a 'mhm' through closed lips as she chewed as her father suggested they take turns.

Sirius began with a heavy tale of loss, and Vanta's chewing slowed. She swallowed, and then pushed the dish away. Her heart clenched at the names of those lost, wolves she had known, wolves who were part of her distant yet vivid childhood memories. She may not have known them long, but they were like family - each and every one of them. "Is Stratum... okay?"

It was her turn next, and Vanta's muzzle dipped to stare at her crystal-touched toes. Where to begin? "I see mom sometimes."  Her voice was barely audible, a secret carried by whisper. A touch of fear gripped her - fear that her father might doubt her, or worse, might feel a sting of hurt. She raised her eyes to meet his, the crystalline facets cloudy with unshed tears. "She's the reason I can see.." She swallowed. "..She's the one who guided me home, to you."

Her voice gained strength as she gestured finally to the sabers. "And she gave me these."


"Speech"

Sirius chuckles at her question. “You know Halo, she’s always putting aside food, I’ve seen how she still feeds Bas treats, and now the puppies. They’re down in the Hallows, so no they won't miss this”he explains. The topic changed then to the flood, and the loss of life.

“He’s recovering” Sirius assured her, watching her carefully to see how she was taking this. Once she had processed, she started in on something else to say. Only, this time it was him freezing and swallowing slowly. He pushed his food away and stared at her. Not with disbelief, but with longing. Something hungry, and almost desperate. He believed her. He had seen Zee walk away with the firefly man, the last vision given to him on her death. Why you. Why… not me? but he couldn’t say it outloud.

He couldn’t speak, he lifted a paw, clutching it to his chest, feeling the pain there. He couldn’t breathe again, there wasn’t enough air in this room. Zee. It was a long, drawn out whisper in his mind. This pain would never cease, he knew it. Hearing of her would never not stab at that gapping hole inside of him. He knew Vanta was waiting. Waiting for him to respond, waiting for him to start his next tale of news. But he couldn’t. He reached out a paw, blindly searching for her own. When she gave him her own, he held it tightly, clutching at it like a lifeline while he waited for the pain in his chest to pass.

"Speech"

The silence between them was heavy, his grief palpable and suffocating. Vanta watched in horror as her father's reaction unfolded, the pain in his gaze, the unvoiced questions lingering there that spoke louder than words ever could. She saw the longing; the raw, aching need within him.

His struggle for breath was a silent scream and in that moment, her own pain flared anew, not for herself, but for the magnificent wolf before her. Her father, her rock, the man who had been her first and only hero. The paw he reached out was trembling, and she took it desperately, her own two paws enveloping his with a grip that said what her words could not.

She leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching, her voice low. "Dad." She whimpered, her voice cracking, "Maybe... m-maybe you could ask for her, too. Call to her." Her eyes, brimming with tears, sought his. "I don't know if it will work, but sometimes when I am lost, when I feel like I might die without her... she comes to my call. Through fire, she finds me."

Her breath hitched as she added in a whisper. "I-I can't bear to see you in pain." Vanta's chest heaved in a sob, her tears spilling over, tracing clean lines through the fur on her cheeks. "Tell me what I can do." Pleading now, she squeezed his paw tighter, desperate to find a way to somehow mend her father's broken heart.

"Speech"

He held her hand and breathed through it, drawing himself slowly back together. Somewhat ashamed that Vanta would see him like this, but also understanding that it was important for them to see that one was allowed to grieve. He did not hide his grief of Zee, her loss was insurmountable. He understood why she offered her words, and decided to be gentle, and didn’t tell her that if it worked that way he would have seen her every night since.

He breathed some more, clenching her paw tight, and fought his way out of it. He patted her paw a few times. “I’m alright, Vanta. You just… caught me by surprise.” He wiped his eyes on the back of his arm and thought of what a foolish old wolf he was.

“Will you tell me some of the things she’s said to you?” He asked quietly. If he could not hear her voice, perhaps he could hear her words. To know that some part of her was still out there somewhere, watching over her children… oh Zee. Of course she would, if there was a way, she would find it.

He knew he'd gone back on the agreement to each speak a piece of news, but this was too big. Too important. He couldn't brush past this easily.

"Speech"

Vanta felt the subtle shift in her father's grip, the steadying of his breath as he reclaimed his composure in fragments. Her heart ached for him, for the pain that was so clearly etched into the lines of his aging face, for the raw sorrow that he bore with the strength of mountains. For the love he still held for her mother, and how her name could still bring him to his knees. She had glimpsed behind the curtain, had seen the depth of his loss. The raw emotion there had scared her, but it also had brought them closer. Oh, father.

His request was a whisper, a gentle plea. She nodded; Vanta would do anything to give him back a connection to the mate he had lost. "S-she.." A steadying breath. "She told me... she's proud. Proud of us all." It was the easiest place to start. Her chest thrummed with anxiety, anticipation, the weight of words still unspoken. "She wants to be here, she misses us desperately, but it's too hard. I don't know why - maybe the flood?" Her mother had always appeared to her over fire - maybe the mountains were too cold, or too wet, or too... she shook her head and sighed.

Swallowing hard, she continued. "I.. she.." The words stuck hard in her throat. "She... She told me to come back, to seek your blessing to build the future I envision for myself - one of honor, of strength. And that's why I'm here, that's why I had to return. To make those dreams a reality, for her." Her head lifted. "For myself."

"Vanta"

He closed his eyes and listened to Vanta speak, feeling the weight of his age and long life as he did so. Of course she was proud of them, it was a very Zee thing to say. She believed in her children, they had been everything to her. That she guided Vanta now… He didn’t understand what Vanta meant, speaking of the flood and why that would make it difficult for Zee. Unless she meant the loss, her children's fear and pain, perhaps that had been too much for her spirit.

He didn’t expect Vanta’s next words, and he blinked at her, taking it in. “You don’t intend to stay, do you?” He asked softly. His children were strong, and proud. So many of them went on to bigger things. It hurt, but he was proud of them, too. He leaned over and kissed Vanta’s forehead. “You have my blessing. Whatever you intend to do, I know you will do it well, and with the strength you’ve well earned in the many struggles of your young life.” He told her softly.

"Speech"

Vanta felt her father's kiss upon her brow, a familiar warmth spreading through her, steadying her once more. His question hung in the air.  She had returned, yes, but not to stay. She had come to seek his blessing, to find closure, and to forge ahead with a new purpose.

"No." Vanta began, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I cannot stay. My heart... its leading me elsewhere." She paused, gathering the courage to continue. "I intend to form my own pack." The words, once spoken, seemed to echo in the den, a declaration.

"I want to create a place where wolves can come together and stand against the darkness that threatens to engulf us. To protect those who cannot protect themselves." Her eyes, bright with conviction, met her father's. "I want to spread the light, the good that I know exists in this world. To continue what you and mom started, in my own way. It's to support me in this dream that mom gave me these." Gently, she tapped upon her sabers once more. "She wants me to do this. She wants me to lead."

She waited, her heart beating hard against her ribs. This was the moment of truth. Vanta had laid bare her deepest ambitions. She hoped for his understanding, his blessing, and perhaps, deep down, even his pride.

"Vanta"

He wasn’t entirely surprised. It seemed the Fatalis bloodline pushed its wolves to lead. He was sorry to lose her again, and hoped she would stay at least a little while. “You have my blessing, and my support. If you need to use our forge, our materials, or recruit a couple wolves, you may.” He told her firmly, he would endeavour to help her push off. Starting a pack from the ground up could be a difficult thing, but if this is what she wanted, he would do what he could to help her succeed.

“I do have one request” He continued, wondering how she would take it. “Stay a week. Resupply yourself, reconnect with your siblings. Meet you nieces and nephews, when they return from the Hallows.”


"Speech"

A grin spread slow across Vanta's face as her father offered not just his blessing, but his support. Offering resources, materials, even wolves if she saw fit. She pushed to her feet, weaved through the dishes, and fell happily into her father's chest. "I can't say how much your support means to me." She murmured. "Of course I'll stay a while. At least until I figure out my next move."

Nestled into her father's chest, Vanta felt safe. Like she could conquer anything with him by her side. Tilting her head to look up at him, she ventured a question. "It's going to be hard. There's so little territory left to claim, so little room for packs left on this continent. I'm scared I'm going to have to fight for it, Dad." Pack challenges were a natural part of this world - Vanta herself had been to a few, to prepare her for her future as a Fatalis princess. "Did you have to fight for the Armada?"

"Vanta"

“You’ll always have it” He promised her quietly, laughing softly as she fell into his chest. He wrapped a paw around her, taking in a deep breath. Feeling something inside of him steady. Now, only two of his children were unaccounted for. He may have an unusual amount of kids, but each and everyone of them mattered to him. He worried, and hoped after them.

“I know how you feel. That’s why I moved the pack to the North, to avoid the overcrowding. It may come down to that, Vanta. But I believe in you. I would come to cheer you on.” He promised her. At her question of the Armada, he chuckled softly. “Actually, there was a piece of territory that mattered to Deathbelle. I went to fight for it, but the pack had dispersed only a few days before I arrived. So I put my claim to it, and we’ve been the Armada ever since” He explained.


"Speech"

She gave her father a half-smile as he mentioned overcrowding and their move to the north, but her fear held the emotion back from taking over the rest of her expression. Thunking her skull upon the warlord's sternum with a sigh, Vanta gave herself permission to really feel.

"I wish a pack would conveniently crumble at my doorstep to be taken uncontested." She murmured. Tilting her head up to look at him, she made a show of heavily scrutinizing the grey strands upon his muzzle. "You retirement age yet?" The playful edge to her tone made it clear that most of her was kidding, but she punctuated her words with a soft laugh and a nuzzle for extra clarity.

Her smile faded as she considered her own words, imagining how difficult and terrifying a fight versus a seasoned warrior like her father might be. But could she even consider herself a potential alpha applicant if she could not square up to meet that challenge? Vanta was not one to back down or hide from difficult truths. "Hey, but actually." She said suddenly, pulling away from him so she could meet his gaze with a more serious intention. "Would you help me make sure I'm ready? Could I practice on you?"

"Vanta"

He boomed a laugh at her words, amused as he patted at her paw with one arm, and wrapped the other around her a little tighter. “If only we could all be so lucky” He agreed softly. “Huh!” he said, equally amused by what she said next, but then... “Well…” He said, and sighed. But perhaps words for another time. Right now, he still wanted to talk about Vanta and her future. Not his concerns about his own.

He let her pull away, and looked down at her crystal face. He raised a brow and then inclined his head lightly. “Of course, if you want to take down your old man. Just go easy on me, I don’t heal like I used to” He teased. He was mostly kidding, he would want her to have a real taste of a battle and see if she felt prepared. Better to ensure she was, then to let leave thinking something that wasn’t.


"Speech"