a trip down memory lane

It was odd how much value was placed on scent markers. Pyrrhic considered this as he stepped through the "border" that separated the Runestones and the Cathedral. Once on the other side of Risen's temporary border Pyrrhic felt a weight lift off of him. Though he loved his family, right now there was something freeing about being outside Risen. He felt like he could throw off the mantle of responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders and just breathe.

A spring returned to his step as he wandered the familiar vine-filled terrain of the cathedral. He had so many memories of this place. In these vines his imagination had run wild. He'd gone on adventures, chasing demons and whipping heathens into submission. He'd played with his siblings, learned to fight, met Benkos here.

He slowed to a halt as another memory with the mandrill came to him. Pyrrhic nosed at the base of a tree and then glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the memory-scene that now had his attention. He'd sat in this very spot after Benkos had brought him here to witness the integration of a band of newly captured primates. The war chief had strutted down the line of captives, his sharp eyes roving them as he assigned worth to each one. Benkos' position in the horde allowed him to pick the best of them and he had; he selected two female mandrills to keep for himself. What happened next froze young Pyrrhic in place. He'd watched with equal parts horror and fascination as Benkos inducted his new wives into his harem and the horde by extension.

The cries of the captives had been ignored by everyone present. The assortment of primates had watched passively. As for the boy, Pyrrhic hadn't known what to think. The brutal world of the primates was openly harsh and merciless, and unlike anything he'd seen before. Sure, Risen spoke far more casually of brutality than most packs, but it had all been talk to the boy. He'd never seen the darkness before.

When he was done Benkos had come back to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Pyrrhic had been able to smell the female mandrills on him. In a matter-of-fact voice he'd explained to the boy the duty of the individual to better the collective. The captives were now part of the horde and thus it was their duty to better it in some way. Sometimes, as Benkos explained, the sacrifices were unpleasant as it was today for his new wives. That was just how life was and there was no shirking from it. And if one was smart they could take what life gave them and use it to their advantage, as Benkos had. He'd started on the bottom and worked his way to the top.

That lesson had stuck with Pyrrhic. He thought about it now as he resumed his wandering. What Benkos had said had struck him as true than and it still resonated with him. He was at a point in his life where his duty was painful, but he had an obligation to carry on anyway for his people. Duty and family, family and duty. If he played his cards right, life would get better for him.