A Ballad of Sacrifice

It seemed that each gust of wind was becoming more brutal than the last, though that was the bite of the north. And as Aresenn made his back toward his den in the glow of pale moonlight, he found himself eager to get back to be with his … family. A bitter chuckle escaped his lips at the thought. Family. A man like him. Responsible for a woman and whelps. But still, they were all just extensions of himself.

But as fate would have it, rest would not be afforded to him so easily. Just as he was about to cross the final clearing to where his family awaited him, a sudden fluttering of wings interrupted him. The raven's dark eyes were insistent, its harsh cawing grating against the silent canvas of the frigid night. Aresenn watched it with a scowl, his breath misting out in front of him. Trust Caedes to send for help at this hour, he thought with an irritated sigh. But of course he knew the obsidian brute wouldn’t ask unless it was truly necessary. The wind howled around him, a biting symphony that stung his exposed skin and tugged at his layered fur. With an irritated sigh, he altered his path, bolting in the direction of where he knew the Haakim’s den to be.

But when he arrived, Caedes was standing in the entrance. A bundle clenched in his jaws, an empty stare in his gaze. He met the man’s eye contact, but he saw little to no recognition. On reflex, Aresenn’s hackles began to rise along his back, a primal instinct warning him of potential danger. He held his ground, eyes narrowed on the seemingly entranced brute before him. As Aresenn drew near, he prepared to ask what was wrong, but the wall of stench hit him first. Blood, decay, birth, fear, panic, outrage, and death. Aresenn’s eyes widened as he pressed forward. Not hesitating to try and engage Caedes, Aresenn walked past him, crossing through the threshold of the den and onto the inside.

Where he was met with a sight so grotesque he couldn’t have possibly dreamed it himself.

Aresenn’s amber gaze settled on Sephiran’s back as he lay clinging to something. Fuck. Was that Aurelia? The wretch’s face was unrecognizable as fragments of her skull and brain matter lay in a heaping mess around the floor, and in a pool of her own blood. He couldn’t see the detail in which she had been slaughtered, but slaughtered she had been, and it was a sight he knew would forever be etched into his memory. It was one of those things- the longer you look the worse it got. Was that little scrap a pup? Oh gods … where was its head!?

His stomach churned, the vile taste of bile threatening at the back of his throat. The crisp winter air suddenly felt stifling, choking him as he tried to make sense of the scene before him. His gaze found Sephiran again, the man's body shaking uncontrollably under Aresenn's watchful eyes. His sobs echoed eerily in the den between his mantra: you did this, a haunting serenade to the fallen woman he most certainly had murdered himself.

Aresenn's instinct recoiled at the sight, heaving a guttural growl of disgust. A primal reaction to the sight of death. He was no stranger to blood or violence, he had killed just the same when he lost control of himself. So what could he have possibly said? Was it madness? Without a doubt. And yet, as he stood over the crimson scene, a cold numbness seeped into his being. His hardened features betrayed nothing as he turned away. Back outside to where Caedes stood. In the bundle that the larger male held, he could hear faint cries. Whimpering. The cries of children who had lost their mother’s warmth. She’s dead. They need a nurse.

Fuck.

He knew what was being asked. What this meant for the babes who had been bundled in a blanket. Likely in the protection from their own father. It was hard not to think of his own in that moment. How fiercely protective of his own children he had become, even as they were days old. How could this have been allowed to happen? With a tired sigh, Aresenn gently took the bundle from Caedes. Turning his back on the brute in an instant as he made his way back to Absinth. What could he possibly say to her? How could he even ask her?

The chilling breeze whipped against his face as he carried the fragile bundle across the expansive tundra. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing a dull and ceaseless dread. He could feel the tiny shivers of the infants against his chest, their cries only making the lump in his throat grow larger, and even more so as they weakened. Aresenn grunted with resignation, shifting his hold on them to block out more of the biting wind. He didn't know how they survived the immediate aftermath of their mother's death, but he was sure that their survival was hard won. Maybe one day, he would ask Caedes what exactly had happened.

As Aresenn crossed the threshold to their shared den, he came face to face with a sight barely less overwhelming than the one he'd just left. Absinth lay there, curled up against their young pups who were suckling blissfully oblivious of the tragedy that had struck their kindred. His amber gaze locked with hers, distant, cold, uncertain. What the fuck was he going to say? He had been speechless the entire time. And he was speechless now. He needed help. Their whimpers had grown weak- nearly non-existent in the frigid cold. And all he could do was stand there.

"Aresenn Praetor"