Tales of Elgrai: Red
Prologue
Glass shattering.
The awful sound that always predates the fall. It was more than just a window breaking, it was himself in pieces from that night onward. Pieces that would never come back together, pieces whose absence would haunt him until the day he died.
No matter how he traced that memory back, how he walked through the cold blue halls of that choking dark night, whether it be through miserable daydreams or forceful nightmares, it was always the same. It never changed. It never could.
You can’t save her.
The sound that rose him from sleep that night was an unidentifiable one at first; he’d soon learn the eerie scraping soaking up from the floorboards of his loft bedroom were that of long curved blades dragging against the floor below. The other that followed was the muffled, fearful sound of his mother’s voice. He never wanted to admit to himself that it was begging, he didn’t want to remember her that way.
Ruaidri Ó hÍcidhe, the young red fox, slipped from his bed covers. He was scared, but he hadn’t reason to be fearful of anything yet. While he was naturally rather meek, his life was a peaceful one. Often he was told by his mother that nothing bad would ever happen, that a little bravery and trouble would in fact do him some good. So he chose to push past the anxious voice in his head just this once. A young boy turning 10 soon needed to be brave, after all.
Brave. Like the White Knight. Ruaidri told himself while creeping down the stairs, clinging onto the idea of the red fox hero, whose noble visage was painted upon recruitment posters all over the main road. The air grew colder with each step. The old wood didn’t groan under his light weight; often he would jump on the steps to try and coax a sound out of it to prove he was big and strong. His mother always chuckled and assured him it’d happen someday. Someday soon.
Ruaidri couldn’t see the walls of his small home in the dark. The wood of the stairs was so warped in the low-light it appeared almost a cold violet hue. The large window to his left at the very bottom of the wooden stair showed nothing but pitch tar blackness, as if the world beyond this moment didn’t exist.
When turning to his right, there was a source of light coming from the far end of the kitchen. His mother’s lantern sat upon the counter top where she prepared herbs for grinding and bottling into medicines. He couldn’t see anything else in the inky navy black, because there was a single cobalt silhouette wavering in the light. It was lean, swaying, and had long curved blades in place of hands.
My one. You will not die. Come to me. Mine.
The intruder spoke in a dreadful garbled voice that made Ruaidri’s stomach pitch and the edges of his vision cloud. The sound seemed to pierce through his head rather than his ears, a voice from something that was not of this world. It raised its long sickle of a hand, coated in twitching, shining ebony. As it did so, Ruaidri’s senses returned to him to remind him he was alive. Alive and in danger.
Ruaidri began to carefully back away. He had no thought for where, only to put distance between him and the weapon-handed creature in the suffocating single-room prison. But his mother was right. He was growing. The second his heel had slid behind him and the weight of his entire body shifted to that single foot, the wood creaked from his weight for the very first time.
The horrible beast’s head had snapped around to look at him. The back-lighting of the lantern hid its face. The large milky white globes it had in place of eyes illuminated in the dark, gleaming a dazzling thirst. Somewhere, hidden in the kitchen, his mother’s voice screamed out to him in a hysterical fear.
“Run Ruaidri!”
Something crashed into his chest. Heavy, glass, and cylindrical in shape. The weight of the object sent Ruaidri flying backwards, and shattering through the glass of the window behind him. He felt the flesh on his back take a blow, the glass’s jagged unrelenting shards clawing 3 angry swipes across his face.
Ruaidri’s flesh stung all over as the sensation of falling overtook him, crashing down onto the cold hard ground. The wind got knocked out of him, an unfamiliar sensation that sent more panic and fear coursing through his veins. He scrambled on the ground, gasping and coughing, trying to find his footing through waves of shaking. His hands slid among the glass shards, cuts punishing him for his frantic movements.
As Ruaidri managed to his feet, clutching the oblong object that sent him through the window, he looked around for anyone as he ran. He screamed when he fell from the window, surely someone heard him. He was running to his neighbors house across the dirt path that wound out of Darkwood. But just as he was approaching the road, he saw two thunderous horses hauling a large cart of hay driving up from his left. He couldn’t slow down, he heard the crashing sounds of the monster just behind him, on his heels.
Ruaidri jumped once he reached the road, balling himself up tight and screwing his eyes shut. Through some miracle, he didn’t land underfoot of the giant hooves, nor did he crash into the harsh unforgiving sidings of the cart. Ruaidri managed to leap just so that he landed in the back of the low set hay cart, the only shred of luck he ever had, used up in that moment. He scurried under the golden red fodder, nestling into it so not to be seen as the cart pulled away further. The horrible thing behind him crashing through the thick mudberry bushes, just missing him.
The creature ran into the road, looking left and right, baffled as to where Ruaidri had disappeared to. But just before the cart pulled out of sight, he saw someone’s silhouette, a neighbor, running out to the figure in confusion. It reacted immediately. With one horrible swipe of its long bladed arm and a flying predatory leap forward, the young boy saw a spray of blood and viscera. The horrible final screams of one of his kin echoed throughout the village.
The noise summoned another neighbor to give help to whomever made such a horrible sound. They met the same fate. Then another. Then another. Then another. Ruaidri could hear the howls of massacre long after the village of the red foxes had disappeared from view, and tall towering pines took its place. The last of his clan echoed into the night as the frightened coach urged its horses onward through Darkwood, not willing to look back at what had drawn the screams out from the village.
The burning tears that cut through his fur seemed to scald his skin as he held the object that crashed into his chest, not realizing he had carried it with him. You can’t save her. You can’t change what you saw. You can never go back.
He couldn’t breathe. His mother was gone. His village was slain. You can’t save her. You can’t change what you saw. You can never go back.
I can’t save her.
Chapter 1
Wilt Uno was not his real name. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary- he was the owner and barkeeper of the Valer Madres inn, and barkeepers always take on the name of the very first drink they serve when taking on the mantle of this profession. Uno remembers the moment vividly; the night his mentor and former owner of the bar pressed the heavy metal key of the inn into his palms, left him with the parting wisdom- “Don’t muck it up, ponte las pilas.” And stumbled out into the rain, never to return.
Suddenly alone with the piercing gaze of the entire inn bearing into him, the orphaned patrons anxious to see what the young ringtail would do in the wake of his mentor’s insanity. He didn’t think hard about it, but chose what he liked- Uno Mas Tequila, brewed right in his home city of Sol Muerto. He lined every shot glass they had onto the bar, and the patrons, knowing what was to come, flocked to its aged oaken surface.
The glasses were passed from hand to hand, until every patron held a small crystal of the well loved poison. The young ringtail lifted his glass, the name and identity he held previously disappearing into the rain with his crazed mentor. The inn took a swallow of the sharp sweetness as one. The master’s apprentice was gone, and Wilt Uno was born.
That night was a long time ago. The days of hopping up from his bed to start the day were over, most mornings began with the man slowly rising and cursing leaving the warm inviting embrace of southern Sol Muerto to the edges of the misty Darkwood forest in east-central Elgrai. The summers were pleasant, but the winters always seemed to linger just a few weeks too long, and with the cold, came the aching pains that seemed to grip him far too often these days.
And this morning in particular, Wilt Uno was seeing red.
Only red.
Red punctuated with two wide blue eyes, staring into his own, perched upon his chest.
Uno often slept with a knife under his pillow, an old habit taught to him by a mentor now long gone. Today the knife escaped his grip and had fallen behind his humble sleeping quarters.
Uno reacted clumsily and punched the figure looming on him. Though, in his grogginess, the action could hardly be considered more than a spirited shove. The mystery visitor flew back further than anticipated, rolling on the hard wood floor of his room. The intruder was small, much smaller than any revenge-seeker had the brains to be.
After a confused scramble, Uno found his footing painfully. Those familiar aches that curled around his joints didn’t seem to have mercy for his situation and demanded to be acknowledged. Uno winced through the pain and he squinted at the tiny figure on the floor, trying to see in the early low light of dawn.
The tiny intruder swiftly clambered halfway to his feet, crouching on the floor, on a hair-trigger ready to run. His eyes were enormous and fearful, long ears pinned back, fur on his neck bristling. Uno was finally able to put together what he was seeing, and scowled.
It was a tiny red fox, in dark red robes too big for himself. A boy. He couldn’t possibly be more than 10 years old.
Uno growled out some choice words that one shouldn’t around a child. The boy didn’t move a hair, but confusion flashed in his eyes. Uno remembered that red foxes didn’t often live in Sol Muerto, or the south for that matter, and probably couldn’t understand him. Uno switched to speaking in Common, and restated his original intent, if a bit more age appropriate.
“I said, what the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”
The little fox still didn’t respond. Uno felt extreme irritation at the nerve of this child. Breaking into his room, sitting on his chest, and then having the audacity to look frightened.
“I ought to give you five across the ears, stupid boy! What do you want? How did you get in here!?” Uno yelled, growing angrier at his silence. The fox seemed to draw himself in tighter, eyes darting to the door to his right.
“Get out!” Uno snarled furiously, giving the boy permission to flee. He would have stomped over, snatched the boy up by his scruff, and laid into him further, if not for his aches being at their worst in his hands.
Not needing to be told twice, the boy scurried out in a flash, the tiny creature having to put his whole body into opening the heavy wood door. Uno took that moment to carefully sit back down, massaging his complaining ankles. All the while he tried to wrack his brain for whose kid that was.
Most of the regular patrons didn’t have children, and the few that did never brought them here. The Valer Madres was not a family establishment, it was a hub for the rough, the tough, and the dirty. A bar and inn for bounty hunters, mostly. Though often were they frequented by rogues, exiles, and thieves as well.
Not to mention, Uno thought, there are no regular red foxes that come here. No red foxes in the nearest town, maybe from Grimmsgarde? All sorts live in the capital…
Uno shook his head; It didn’t matter who the kid belonged to, what mattered was if the kid was still inside and causing trouble. Uno hefted an aggressive sigh, unable to take anymore time for his pains to stop pinging around. He pushed himself back to his feet, and began walking as fast as he could to the door.
Uno exited his room into the main area of the inn. To his left stood a grand fireplace that only contained glowing embers from the night before. He had the same want then as he did every cold morning, to throw logs upon the hearth with reckless abandon and get the room to a toasty warm. He restrained himself from wasting the firewood, as he could tell from the breeze that flowed through his black, brown, and white fur, spring was fighting through the gloom and it would warm up just fine by midday.
Breeze?
Uno looked around for the source, stepping onto the large red rug that covered the open area around the fireplace to warm his feet. The wooden rocking chair that sat strong and silent by the hearth gave no hints, and the couch piled with hunted furs set against the adjacent wall answered no questions. The wall the couch leaned upon gave way to a hallway where four small rooms stayed shut tight, snoring drifted from behind closed doors, and the wooden staircase that led to the two loft rooms creaked in the settling weather.
There, accessible high above the staircase, a small rectangular window was left open. Uno sighed, annoyed for two reasons. There was a non-zero chance the light-footed fox had clambered in through the cracked pane, and the fact the cause of such an invasion was only made possible by a certain irritating patron that had a penchant for opening windows.
“Hope you don’t mind.” A deep voice drew Uno from his thoughts. Walking into the common area from the front door was a large familiar figure carrying an armful of firewood, making his way to the fireplace. “It was growing stuffy in here.”
The patron in question had been here longer than anyone else, even Uno. He was a tall, older man. He was broad, blunt, and never answered questions about himself. He wore all black robes with a hood drawn over his face like a mourner, all that was visible of him was his long snout, tall ears, and fluffy tail that trailed along the floor. His fur white as snow.
Sculd. Ground floor, first room on the left. Species unknown.
Unknown to everyone else, that is. Uno knew exactly who and what Sculd was, and it wasn’t anything the other patrons were guessing.
Uno didn’t mind Sculd’s secretive nature, it was the fact that Sculd was a northerner was what ground his gears. Always opening windows, dousing fires, and appearing too pleased and comfortable in the deep throes of winter. His thick white fur seemed delightful in the chilly air, that much Uno could envy.
“Stuffy?” Uno growled, choosing to make a hard right behind the bar. He began pulling thin cut logs out from under the counter and shoving it into the smoldering embers of the small stove that stood old and crumbling in the wall between the bar and the kitchen. “There’s still frost on the ground, Sculd! Frost! That doesn’t make for ‘stuffy’ weather!”
“The sun is plenty direct. It will warm.”
“I’ll direct you- say…” Uno stopped aggressively striking his iron to coax out a fire. Both to give his groaning wrist joints a breather, and to cast a gaze over his shoulder. “Do you know any red foxes?”
Sculd stopped in his tracks a bit too suddenly, it was impossible to know what Sculd’s expression was at any one time, as he stayed well hidden under his hood.
“Obviously. A long time ago. Why?” Uno shook his head, correcting himself.
“I mean recently, with children.”
“Children?” Sculd grunted, and set the large pile of wood in the iron holder next to the fireplace. Sculd wasn’t employed at the Valer Madres. He paid for his room and board like everyone else, but for some reason, he could not be kept from helping. Sculd seemed especially motivated to assist with thankless, laborious jobs, and with Uno’s joints being what they were, he wasn’t about to tell Sculd to stop.
Sculd was a talented blacksmith and had set up a forge behind the inn. A quiet, serious, salt of the earth type of man. Some days he wondered if Sculd was always here and Uno’s mentor of late simply waltzed into Sculd’s home, installed a bar, and started charging him rent. It wouldn’t have been out of character for the audacious jaguar, Santiago Mezcal. After all, he did knock on Uno’s parents door as a stranger, claim their son was old enough to earn his keep, and dragged Uno into the damp chilly north that same day.
“None that I know. Not anymore. Red foxes live further west than here, normally.”
“And in the capital?”
“Probably,” Sculd shrugged. “Why?”
Uno ducked through the entrance to the kitchen, grabbed a bunch of carrots, and set them upon the bar. He sharpened a long knife and began to doubt his memory of this morning.
“I could have sworn I saw a red fox in my room this morning. A young boy.” Sculd snorted and took a seat at the bar.
“You’re still plenty young to be imagining things, Uno.”
“Ay, I’m not crazy! I punched the little fuzz-ball square in the chest!”
“You punched a child? Not better, Uno.”
“He wasn’t exactly supposed to be there, Snow-Beast.” Uno growled, and had to pause on chopping the carrots, his wrist seizing in pain. He growled, the bushy ringed-tail of his species’ namesake lashing in irritation, before growing wary. “Say… know anything about curses?”
“What is this today? First red foxes and now curses? Maybe you are losing it.”
“Ay, did I ask? Curses, Snow-Beast. Can’t you sense magic?”
“Not well,” Sculd hummed, sitting back and watching Uno struggle to make breakfast. “Yaku would probably know.”
“I’m not asking that smarmy asshole for a damned thing.”
“Then enjoy your curse.” Sculd shrugged, and got back to his feet. “Shout for me when breakfast is finished.”
“What, you don’t have patience anymore?” Uno bristled, forcing his hand around the hilt of the blade again, embarrassed at his own sluggish pace.
“Be a shame to waste any sunlight,” Sculd explained nonchalantly as he began heading out the door, “There is always much to be done.”
“You don’t gotta tell me that.” Uno grunted to the closing door, his own mind wandering over all the little things that needed to be done today, on top of all he couldn’t finish yesterday. The tasks kept mounting up, new problems every day, never enough time to complete them all. The other patrons began to stir while Uno was trying to mentally prioritize his chores.
“Late with breakfast again, Huevón?” Ah. The smarmy asshole in question.
Yaku Yupanqui. Ground floor. First door on the right, under the stairs. Maned wolf.
The first thing one would notice about Yaku would be his height. He, like most maned wolves, are tall, leggy, lean creatures. As if his height wasn’t already obnoxious, his tall ears added even more undeserved length, making him the tallest regular in the bar. And doesn’t he act like it.
Yaku had muddy red fur, with a black muzzle, arms, legs, and spiked mane on the back of his neck. He wore an intricately patterned dark green and silver cloak draped over his shoulders, a chamanto, woven in the styling reminiscent of his home town. He had dark angry green eyes and a permanent scowl stuck on his teeth. Most patrons hated him at worst, or tolerated him at best. Uno didn’t particularly like the guy, but he was a patron, and so Uno treated him as such, and fell in with the ‘tolerating’ crowd.
Uno had scarce in common with Yaku, their only overlap existed within the fact they come from sister-cities, and so their native tongues were similar. At least, Yaku’s family came from Sol Meurto’s western sister city- Luna Mística. Yaku himself was raised in the capital. Fate made it so Uno couldn’t even complain about the weather with Yaku, as the maned wolf seemed to have a higher than average cold tolerance.
“It’ll get done, when it’s done.” Uno muttered to the younger kid. He didn’t totally despise Yaku, in fact, besides one other patron, Uno was probably the only one who liked Yaku in any regard. But it was more pity, than an enjoyment of his character. “…Can a mar sense magic?” Uno asked as inconspicuously as he could, avoiding looking Yaku dead in the eye. In his peripheral vision, he could see Yaku’s head snap toward Uno, scowl widening.
Most can do magic in small regular senses, but it takes a lifetime of practice and a pinch of lucky genetics to be a powerful magic user. Powerful magic families often secured high positions of power. The most powerful magic family of Elgrai were the Yupanqui. Yaku’s family. To say Yaku hated those without magical ability was a severe understatement.
“Can a mar sense magic?” Yaku parroted, growling. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just a question, Yaku.” Uno continued in an even tone. “If someone was cursed, could I sense it?”
“You?”
“I’m a mar, remember?” Uno pointed out. It wasn’t unusual to be a mar, to be born without magical ability. Neither mars nor magicians were often bothered by such a regular thing, but Yaku wasn’t like most people. While Yaku was hostile to every mar, he was ever so slightly kinder to Uno. The reasons for such was personal, knowing someones deepest most shameful secret certainly forced some unwilling grace from the maned wolf. That secret is why Uno pitied the boy enough to tolerate his slights.
“Depends.” Yaku grunted. “Depends on the person. Sometimes mars can sense magic. You’d have to practice.” Yaku eyed him further, “Why?”
Oh, what the hell?
“I think I’m cursed, Hermano.”
Uno spent the next few minutes rubbing his wrist, gathering the chopped carrots, and loading them into the stew on the calm low fire. He waved and greeted the final permanent patron as she exited her room and made her way down the stairs. He began chopping more vegetables to build up the stew. He had the time, after all, as Yaku was hysterically laughing in his face.
“Good morning, Uno!” The girl called, smiling broadly and only slightly limping. Uno admired her ability to push through agony- she was fighting through a pain Uno could scarcely imagine.
She wore a deep blueish purple wool garment wrapped elegantly around her in multiple colorful folds. The iconic rich dark color was the pride and joy of Panna Kshetr, the farming town that she hailed from. Her fur sported a vibrant orange with dashing stripes normally, but today she was wearing nearly head to toe bandages.
“Good Morning, Kali. Not pushing yourself too hard?”
“Well, I can’t lie around all day!” Kali beamed, her long strong tail sweeping behind her as she strode forward and took her regular seat next to the howling Yaku. “You telling jokes, Uno?”
“He is!” Yaku wheezed.
Kali Dhangar. Second floor. First door on the right. Bengal Tiger.
Kali had a hard night a few days ago. Uno knew better than to ask her about it. She was a genuine delight of a girl, if prone to some unfortunate choices. She was around Yaku’s age, vibrantly cheerful, a little older than Uno was when he took the helm of the Valer Madres, but still far too young for what she had to go through. There was nothing Uno could do but offer her a roof over her head, a warm meal, and a discount on the medical stockpiles he kept in high supply since she showed up.
Unlike the bounty hunters that frequented the bar, Kali was a talented thief for hire. She had never been caught and by her warm personality, imposing size, and terrifying capabilities, Uno was confident there would be no hunter bold nor stupid enough to try.
“Well, what’s so funny? You never laugh, Yaku.” Kali inquired. Yaku managed to pull himself together long enough to respond.
“Wilt Uno thinks he’s cursed!” Yaku jeered, pointing a long claw in his direction. “As if a magic-user powerful enough to cast curses would even look twice at a lowly mar like him!” Uno rolled his eyes, immune to the drivel the maned wolf would sling. Kali, on the other hand, frowned at him and cuffed him on the ear. Yaku pretended it didn’t hurt, but Kali was of great strength and Yaku’s lankiness provided little protection.
“Arre! Don’t be such a jerk, Yaku! Uno’s line of work is dangerous. Someone absolutely could have cursed him!” That wasn’t a better thought to have, but Uno appreciated the sentiment. If just in a bitter way.
“Stupid mar.” Yaku muttered, resting his head on his crossed arms, gazing at Uno, grinning darkly.
“Bakwas, if he’s a stupid mar, I am too.” Kali pointed out, disapprovingly.
“You said it, not me.” Yaku sat up straighter, stretched his fingers, and opened his palms to Uno. “C’mon, Huevón, before I change my mind.” Uno was slightly suspicious at Yaku’s sudden change of heart, but not in any place to stiff his offer. Uno gave his hands over to Yaku, who held them firm while shutting his eyes and focusing.
Kali leaned forward, watching worriedly. Uno understood her concern. Her own suffering wasn’t because of a curse, but it might as well have been. It wasn’t something she could ever make go away. Uno noticed blood was seeping through her bandages. He’d have to change those as well, next priority on his list. Uno felt his heart sink. He was no healer and the kid needed a healer. She needed stitches, medicines, and probably an armful of things he didn’t know.
A million things he had to do, many he wasn’t qualified to do, and the things he could do, he was unable due to his-
“Ugly.”
“What?” Uno snapped out of his thoughts.
“Just ugly, Huevón.” Yaku patted his hands, gently. “No curse.”
“Yaku!” Kali scolded him, as Uno sighed. I get what I get for asking that punk.
“Five minutes, Kali.” Uno said, turning to walk back into the kitchen, opting to ignore Yaku’s prodding. “And I’ll change your bandages.” He was going to ladle up some of the warm stew and jam his hands into it for a few minutes, and hope that his aches soothed enough to change the miles of bandages that Kali had. It isn’t a waste of food if I still eat it after, right? Uno grimaced, it was a bit gross, but better gross than waste.
“Oh-! I’m okay! I promise!” Kali called after him, sounding embarrassed. Uno knew she hated to be a burden, but she was young, on her own, and needed medical attention. If you can call what I do ‘medical attention’.
“Dumb girl!” Yaku hissed, “You’re going to bleed out. Listen to Tío, he knows what’s best. He is important enough to be cursed after all.”
“It’d be a waste-”
“You’re wasting your breath, when you could be buying me a drink, eh? Some pepper wine for the sexiest man in the bar?”
“It’s morning, Yaku.”
“That’s my problem, not yours. Except the bill, of course.” Yaku grinned with an obnoxious wink, earning him an angry stare. “So, anyway, I’ll have my normal. Kali will pay for it.”
“Gonna have to try something new, Yaku.” Uno called from the kitchen, hoping he was out of sight enough that the younger two didn’t notice him about to jam his digits into a bowl of broth. “We don’t have your regular poison right now.”
“Dónde la viste…” Yaku whined into his arms, “Why NOT, old man? When’s Hazina coming back?” Ahh… warm soup.
Uno heard the front door swing open, judging by the fact it swung open, and didn’t slam open hard enough to shake the inn to its foundation, he knew who it was. Or at least, who it wasn’t. He leaned back and yelled into the doorway.
“Tell the snow beast it’ll be ready in 5 minutes, quit rushing me!”
“Hey Hazina! Uno said to drop dead!” Yaku shouted to the figure in the door, proving Uno’s assumption incorrect. He groaned and quickly went to rinse his now meat-smelling hands and clear up the misunderstanding properly. Though, by the sounds of Yaku’s sudden screams, and the loud crashing across the wooden floor, it seems Hazina was clearing it up herself. Ever reliable Hazina.
Wait, did he say ‘drop dead’? Oh damn it all, Yaku!
When Uno ran to the doorway to try and mitigate the situation, Hazina had Yaku cornered. Uncharacteristic rage burned in her eyes, screaming something in her own native tongue as she had her long bow drawn taut, an arrow aimed at his heart. Kali was trying to talk Hazina down, she was much taller than Hazina, but Hazina was incredibly strong.
Hazina Kariuki. Ground floor. Second door on the left. Spotted Hyena.
Now for once, Uno didn’t totally blame Yaku for this reaction. He couldn’t have known.
Hazina was a very important worker of his, she was a talented horse-back rider and long-bow archer. She occasionally dabbled in bounty hunting when she wanted some extra pay to drink up, or to spoil her spouse and kids. But in general, she would travel far and wide over Elgrai to procure various alcohols to stock the bar, food to feed the patrons, and other odds and ends needed to operate his establishment.
Hazina never stayed at the inn for long, she was the head of a village, and very proud of it too. But she enjoyed some time alone from what sounded like an incredibly huge, loving, and exhausting family. The journeys gave her some much needed peace from siblings, multiple adopted children, and uncountable amounts of nieces and nephews. She was a touch younger than Uno, it always made him wonder if he should have a wife by now. Despite that, he didn’t really see himself finding much time for romance when he had so much work to get done in a day. In a way, he was already married to the Valer Madres, and she was already far too needy of a spouse for Uno to go sleeping around.
Hazina was back from the longest, most important journey of her life and judging by the fact she was about to murder Yaku in cold blood, Uno assumed the worst.
Yaku was shouting from his corner, trying to ball himself up as small as he could, running his mouth, tossing out everything but a proper apology. Kali was hanging on Hazina’s arm, begging her to calm down. Uno didn’t hesitate, and stood at the quivering tip of her arrow in front of the young maned wolf.
“Get out of the way, Uno.” Hazina snarled, anger and hurt burned behind her voice.
“What happened, Hazina?” Uno asked her directly. Hazina’s breath caught in her throat, her hand trembled slightly. Uno trusted her not to shoot him dead right there. She was his longest, closest friend. He knew her inside and out, and was the only one who knew the true reason for her journey out west.
Hazina’s arm slowly relaxed, her bow lowering, arrow sliding from the taut string and clattering onto the floor. Uno heard the door crack open, Sculd having heard the commotion was leaning in to check upon the younger inhabitants of the inn. Hazina’s rounded ears were pinned back, her gaze distant and pained. She spoke loud enough for them all to hear-
“The red foxes… they’re all dead.”
Kali jumped back, gasping. “No!”
“What?” Yaku picked his head up from where he cradled it in protection. Uno didn’t know what to say, before he could find the words, Sculd had rushed into the common area, grabbing Hazina’s arm.
“Hazina.” Sculd spoke in his bold deep voice, stretched thin with a quiet mounting horror. “What do you mean-?”
“What else could it mean, damn you!?” Hazina ripped her arm back from him, that unnatural anger back. There were bags under her eyes, redness in the whites of her gaze. She seemed to have ridden back without sleeping, she must have been exhausted. “DEAD. Dead, Sculd! All of them. Every last one.”
Kali managed to coax Hazina onto the couch, holding tightly to her arm in comfort. Uno scurried to get Hazina water and a serving of the stew, sure that she hadn’t eaten or drank anything since she saw the horrors she began to describe. Despite the momentous severity of the news, there wasn’t much to say.
Hazina rode into the village of the red foxes and there were bodies everywhere. In homes, in the streets, every single fox in the village slain. Cut with almost surgical precision throat to belly. Organs gone.
“What!?” Yaku yelped, he wasn’t one to pretend to care about others, but even he could feel the prickling sense of dread that washed over him and everyone else in the inn. “That’s not-”
“I saw what I saw,” Hazina growled, shaking her head. She sounded defeated, like she had been desperately trying to convince herself what she saw wasn’t true. There was a deeper sadness she was shouldering that Uno knew he couldn’t talk to her about now with everyone around, but he could feed her, and he hoped that would be enough for the moment.
Uno handed her the food and drink, she ate, famished, his hunch being correct. Everyone else sat in an uncomfortable silence, mulling over the sudden deaths of an entire village, while Uno’s mind raced over the little red fox in his bedroom this morning. Where was he now? Did he witness the murder of his entire village? How could this have happened?
Hazina had finished her meal and was wearing that thousand-yard-stare she got when the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She got that look more often than not these days; it hurt to watch his carefree friend turn so tormented. Uno knew she probably wanted- no, needed- time alone now. Hazina had never cried in front of anyone, and Uno, as her friend, would not force her to start today.
“Bed for you, Hazina.” Uno grabbed Hazina’s arm and helped her to her feet. “The rest of you, clear out- ah, Kali, just-”
“Fiiiiine!” Yaku groaned, cutting Uno off. “I’ll take care of it, jeez. Begging makes you look stupid, Uno.” Uno thanked Yaku by not thanking him. Uno had known those two for years now, he understood why Kali tolerated Yaku, maybe even appreciated him. But why the selfish Yaku was so kind, or kind by his own metrics, to a mar like Kali, Uno would never know. It wasn’t his business to know. All he could think about was his millions of questions for Hazina, and the little red fox’s whereabouts.
Uno walked Hazina into the hall, past Sculd and Yaku’s room, to her own.
“Hazina.” Uno muttered, looking at her, her own gaze still a million miles away. His hand paused on the doorknob. He gave her a questioning look, hoping his assumption wasn’t true.
“I searched the surrounding towns for anyone like her. Anyone at all.” Hazina whispered and shook her head. Uno didn’t doubt she tried. Uno opened the door for her and she shuffled inside. He caught the door before she closed it.
“And…? When you returned?” Uno didn’t dare speak over a whisper. Hazina lifted her head, finally looking him in the eyes. Jaw clenched so she doesn’t break.
She shook her head.
Oh, Hazina…
Hazina said nothing and shut the door. Leaving Uno alone in the hall to ruminate over the second wave of horrible news.
Uno’s feet moved on their own back to the common area, where Yaku was reapplying Kali’s bandages with an uncharacteristic level of careful attention. A kind act offset by his own complaining. The only other sound came with a rolling purr as rain moved in to make a cold day colder, Uno’s predictions of a warm sunny midday dampening. To make matters worse, he heard the distinct drip-drip-dripping of water drops falling neatly into a bucket. He looked up, noticing Kali’s bedroom door slightly ajar, the sound emanating from behind it. Oh right.
Kali’s room had a leak in the roof he’s been meaning to patch. Another thing to do.
All this before breakfast.
Uno ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. Just take care of things. That’s the best you can do. The ringtail strode into the kitchen with a newfound fury to get as much done as he possibly can, forcing his mind to prepare to ignore the pain in his…
There was something on the counter. Crouched there, like a little monster. Shoveling stew into its mouth with its bare hands. The stew that Uno was soaking his sore hands in earlier. There are probably a million better things Uno could have said to this tragic orphan, but what he ended up saying was simply a knee jerk reaction.
“Guácala.”
The little Red Fox’s head snapped up ears back, frightened. Uno lifted a hand, so as not to frighten him further, scooping up a clean bowl from a cupboard.
“You can have more. Just… not that one.”
Uno spooned up a fresh warm bowl and handed it over to the fox, who still looked skeptical and nervous, but took it nonetheless. Uno, accepting that this was just another chore he had to deal with now, pulled an empty crate over, and took a seat, waiting for the boy to finish his meal before questioning him.
Uno’s mind wandered as he sat, the rain hypnotizing in its rolling drum. How he longed to just climb back under his warm covers, or doze off in front of a freshly built up fire. How he wished he hadn’t so much to do in the day. To just tell everyone else in the inn to go find food elsewhere for just one day. If only Santiago Mezcal hadn’t rapped his knuckles on Uno’s family’s home after he had a spat with his parents. Maybe he would have been able to get that wife and child after all. Maybe he wouldn’t be wishing death upon all the ancient Elgraians who chose to expand and settle further north than Armardier. Maybe he wouldn’t have ever left Sol Muerto. Maybe-
“Arthritis.” The tiny voice startled Uno out of his thoughts, Uno was sitting and staring at the pouring rain outside, absently massaging his wrist.
“What?”
“Not a curse. Arthritis.” The boy repeated, still a little quiet, but sounding very straight forward and matter of fact. As if someone had asked him what the color of the sky was.
“How do you know?”
“Lots of old people get it.”
“Watch it.” Uno warned. The boy slipped off the counter he was perched on and approached Uno quietly. He was incredibly light on his feet, even tinier up close, and still hadn’t quite grown into his ears.
Uno watched as the boy reached into the inner pockets of his maroon robes, and pulled out a small glass container. As soon as he cracked the lid of the little rectangle, stiff sour herbs burned Uno’s nose so harshly he winced. The smell, despite being awful, was oddly nostalgic. Something about it triggered an old memory.
“What the hell is that?”
“Medicine.”
“Yeah no kidding, what for?” Uno reminded himself to simmer down a tad. The kid was probably hurt from whatever horrible event wrecked his village. Uno tried to look closer at him in the low light, but it was dark. Candles. I need to light some before the rain-gloom makes me fall asleep, but we’re low, so I need to get Hazina to buy more on her next journey. But Grimmsgarde candles are so ungodly expensive, she’d need to get them from Stoirm Ghil. But that’s a 10-day round-trip journey in good weather, and I don’t need anything else from the northwest, it’s a waste of a trip and not quick enough. Armardier is closer and they sell beeswax. Faster and cheaper, but then I’ll have to put aside time to make candles…
Uno shook himself out of his spiraling train of thought. Not now. He chided and simply leaned closer to look at the boy. Indeed there were large fresh red scabs across his snout, cheek, and under his left eye. His hands seemed to be cut up to hell and back as well, a few fingers wrapped neatly in gauze.
“It’s for you.” The fox piped, in that same matter-of-fact tone and grabbed Uno’s hands without asking. He was about to protest the fox’s forwardness, but the relief was immediate. As soon as the strange thick white paste was applied to his hands, it was as if the medicine was stripping the ever-present pain right from his bones.
Uno hadn’t realized how tightly clenched he was in every muscle until he finally felt himself relax. He was utterly mesmerized at the effectiveness and watched the fox work in silent wonder. As he did, Uno recalled where the scent was bringing him back to. Uno’s grandmother had died when he was very young, but he still remembered scurrying across the colored stones of Sol Muerto’s vibrant town square to his grandmother’s house. Bursting into the door without knocking to hop into her arms. She always smelt like fresh grown tomatoes, rich spices, old perfume, and something else. This medicine must be that something else.
Dios mio, am I old?
“Did that help?” The fox asked, breaking Uno from his memories. Coming back to the cold stone under his feet, the rain thundering down in icy sheets as winter refused to let go for another day. There was a childish part of Uno that wanted to shutter the doors of the Valer Madres right then and there, pay off Hazina for one of her horses, and make the long 10-day journey to Sol Muerto, never to return.
Instead of doing such a thing, Uno flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists pain-free for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.
“And what are you doing here, kid? Giving a bitter ringtail like me a new lease on life?” The fox seemed to accept that as a passable ‘yes’, and beamed up at him.
“Wilt Uno?”
“Yes?”
“I want ye to train me into a bounty hunter!”
It was rude to laugh, he knew that, but how could he not? Red foxes, like any other species in this country, were a little bit everywhere. However, red foxes were often around the west coast. A 5 to 7 days journey from the Valer Madres depending if taking the path north through the Kariuki village, where Hazina’s family laid down their roots, or taking the journey south through Armardier, the diverse town full of iron workers and stone masons.
The Red Fox Village was where most red foxes lived, and even when they leave to see the wider world of all that Elgrai has to offer, it was common to go back and start a family there, the culture and language of their people being passed along to the younger generation. And here, right here, was that bright new generation, and he was asking to be trained in the desperate man’s profession of chasing murderers and thieves across the unforgiving lands and seas of Elgrai.
“Stop laughing at me!” The boy stomped his foot, his large ears sinking down. Uno shook his head, and pulled himself together.
“Absolutely not, kid. I’ll pay you for the medicine, but you’re not staying here.” Uno stood up, carefully flexing his un-aching fingers while the boy ran up near his feet in anger.
“Why not?! I helped, ye bastard!”
“And? I didn’t ask you to. This is no place for children. You’re going to the capital, a friend of mine will take you in a few days.” Grimmsgarde was a bit much for someone like Uno, but it was a large, diverse town with good amenities. Surely they had a decent orphanage. Besides, the queen ought to be made aware an entire village has been violently murdered. And maybe someone will do something about it. Though Uno couldn’t imagine what. What’s done is done, what’s dead is dead.
“I have to become a hunter, mister Uno! I have to!” The fox grabbed at Uno’s shirt, begging. Uno was about to push the kid off when they locked eyes, and there in his gaze nestled the exact same painful fury that gripped Hazina just a few hours earlier.
“I need to kill the beast-user that destroyed my village! It killed my mother!” Very unlike Hazina, the fox boy began to cry, only able to grip that furious vengeance for so long before the sorrowful weight of death spread over his shoulders like a February snow.
Wilt Uno, despite the initial assumption that he would have kids one day, realized in that moment he’s never actually been around children in any capacity.
“Ah… come on now, don’t- don’t cry.” Uno wasn’t sure if he was being helpful, it didn’t seem like it. What did he do to help Hazina?
“Bed. Now.” Uno grabbed his arm, leading him out of the kitchen and back into the common area. Here’s to hoping that everyone had already-
“Hey, I thought all the red foxes were all minced meat! You gonna add him to the stew, Uno?”
Goddamnit, Yaku.
The kid ended up crying himself to sleep in Sculd’s lap after Yaku’s inappropriate comment. Unsurprisingly, the statement touched a nerve and Uno wasn’t great at handling it. It seemed like no one in the inn was. Hazina was great with kids, but she was comatose now and nothing short of the end of the world would wake her. Uno chased Yaku out of the inn with a broom for making the kid break down, Kali following after him to finish the job, or at least scold him for his insensitivity. However, Sculd surprised Uno the most with his ability to actually help the little one calm down.
Uno leaned against the fireplace next to Sculd, watching the worn out kid rest.
“Didn’t know you were so good with kids, snow-beast. I always thought you were too cold.” Uno joked, Sculd chuckled, looking into the fire.
“Reminds me of when my little ones were young. He looks exactly like my second son. Only redder.”
“Yeah… Wait, you had kids, snow-beast?”
“Did I not mention that, sun-beast?”
“You definitely didn’t! Why so secretive? Does someone have a hit out on you?” Sculd shrugged, and continued to rock in the wooden chair.
“Who knows.”
“‘Who knows’ he says.” Uno scoffed and slid down to sit on the blood-red rug on the floor. “What’s the capital like?”
“The capital?” Sculd lips screwed up in disgust. “What for?”
“For the kid,” Uno gestured to the little fuzzy red ball curled on the elder man. “He’s got to go somewhere. Good orphanages there? Or is Moorsglade better?”
“You’re sending him away?”
“What the hell are you talking about?! Yes, obviously! I got an inn to run. Now’s not the time to pivot and adopt. That’s Hazina’s wheelhouse, not mine.” Hazina had three adopted young-ins of her own. Hazina and her spouse simply had far too much love to give and that giant family of hers embraced anyone who had no one. If in better circumstances, Uno would have just dropped Little Red here at her door and been done with it. She’d probably tuck him under her arm, march him off to her village, and that would have been the end of that. But Hazina was in no shape to be taking on burdens like this, not right now, maybe not ever again.
“Exactly what I mean,” Sculd interrupted. “You have far too much to do around here, things are falling to the way-side. Not much is getting done, Uno. The inn never looked like this when Santiago Mezcal was around.” Sculd wasn’t trying to irritate him, that was Yaku’s job, pleasure, and passion. But every now and then Uno would forget how irritatingly blunt Sculd could be.
“You son of a-”
“Ever consider why?”
“Why?! That man was crazier than a bag of snakes! You of all people ought to know that!”
“Mezcal was crazy.” Sculd nodded, “And yet, he kept the inn in good shape. Know why?” Uno huffed in irritation. The nerve of this guy.
“Enlighten me, fresa. You know best, after all.” Uno snarled, wondering how unprofessional it may be if he just started drinking now. Uno then decided he didn’t care, planning to rise and take a solid swig of the first thing his paw touched as soon as Sculd was done airing out his lofty criticisms.
“He had you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Santiago Mezcal could run this place easy, because he had an apprentice.”
Ah.
Uno hadn’t really thought about that. He has been working his tail bare for years, he always felt like he did far more work than the crazy Mezcal could ever attempt. When Mezcal finally cracked up and disappeared into Darkwood, it was hardly a relief, just more on his plate. That plate has been mounting higher for years.
Sculd must have noticed Uno considering it, and continued. “You need an apprentice, you need someone young and spry who can shimmy up to the roof and fix a leak. And a light-footed fox crawled right through your window and landed in your lap. Well, mine anyway.” Sculd adjusted slightly, and the fox let out a soft sigh in his sleep.
“Not to mention, he is clearly talented. A healer, or at least somewhat knowledgeable.” Sculd gestured a large white paw to Uno’s hands. “Your pains are gone.” That much is true and if this fox knew how to make medicines…
“Kali…” It dawned on Uno. This wasn’t just about him and his aches now.
“Well now, seems you’re starting to use your brain.” Sculd mused to himself, making Uno scoff. This guy. Sculd hasn’t razzed him like this since Uno was a hot-tempered bull-headed boy.
Through Mezcal’s swift firm hand to the back of his skull and Sculd’s sincere, if blunt, honesty, Uno had calmed down a lot over the years. Though, if Uno actually commits to this apprentice thing, he’d choose to inflict a decent helping of scrubbing pots over wielding his belt. That was a sore spot between Uno and his memories of the wild and brash Mezcal that couldn’t mend easily if he were alive, and now will never mend at all.
Uno sighed, annoyed that even now as an adult, Sculd was parenting him. It was even more annoying that he was right. “Fine. The kid can stay. But I’m no bounty hunter, I just run the place. I don’t have any hunting skills.” He grumbled.
Uno didn’t keep his patron’s secrets for his own personal gain, he did so because that was his duty as a bartender. However, there were a select few patrons in that bar that owed him favors, and it wouldn’t be so hard to ask Kali, Hazina, and Yaku to spare one day a week teaching Little Red something new. I suppose they’ll do… maybe if this takes enough time, Little Red can get over his vengeance high and simmer down like I did. After all, there’s no reason to go toe-to-toe with a beast-user. That’s the sort of thing you do when you’re looking not only to die, but to die painfully.
“Yeah, know what? Alright. I can do that…” Uno gazed up at Sculd, who wasn’t looking at him, expecting nothing from their chat. But, Uno was raised on a strict please-and-thank-you policy. Even if Mezcal didn’t enforce it, he always felt his grandmother’s eyes burning into his back if he didn’t.
“Gracias.” Uno grunted.
“Vær så god.” Sculd acknowledged. Sculd didn’t often break from his Common, he didn’t exactly want anyone to know where he’s from. But here alone with Uno, he could speak his mother-tongue a bit more freely. Uno used to rarely speak Common, as he and Mezcal both hailed from Sol Muerto, but after his mentor’s foray into the unknown, he found himself hardly ever speaking it at all. Uno had got the spook of his life when someone from his hometown dropped by, and he had briefly forgotten what the words sounded like on his own tongue. He made efforts to speak it more, but that only left Yaku to talk to, and that was rarely a good thing.
Maybe Little Red can learn some… Wait, Little Red?
“I don’t know his name.” Uno realized out loud, a bit annoyed he didn’t start with that. From their meeting this morning to him shoveling stew into his mouth like a little beast, Uno never got the chance to exchange names. He’s already my apprentice and I have no idea what he’s called. The fox surprised him by cracking an eye open and answering his name. This act made Uno wonder how long he’s been awake and eavesdropping. Sneaky little fox.
“Fine.” Uno said, and pushed himself to his feet. He walked over to the slate behind the bar where he kept track of which rooms his patrons were using. Currently Yaku, Kali, Sculd, and Hazina were his only permanent residents, with the other three rooms vacant. He gave his new apprentice the other second floor room across from Kali, since it was also leaky in the roof.
Rory O’Hickee. Second Floor. First Room on the Left. Red fox.
“That’s not how you spell it!” Uno jumped a mile high, as the fox had silently followed him to the bar and was standing directly behind him.
“Dios mio, I’m going to bell you like a cat!” Uno threatened the light-footed boy. “What’s the matter? That’s what you said!”
“To you.” Little Red placed his fists on his hips, “That’s not how it’s spelled.” He snatched the chalk from Uno’s paw, and erased the name with a deft swipe.
Ruaidri Ó hÍcidhe. Second Floor. First Room on the Left. Red fox.
Uno was about to remark that the spelling didn’t exactly matter if it was pronounced the same way, but after a moment’s pause to think of the low number of red foxes left in this country, he simply gave Ruaidri an accepting pat on the shoulder and replaced the slate on the wall.
“Well, Ruaidri. You’re an apprentice of the Valer Madres now, know what that means?” Stars shined in the boys wide blue eyes as he followed Uno into the kitchen.
“You’re going to show me how to use a sword?”
Ruaidri’s reflexes were good, as he caught what Uno tossed him from across the room. A single onion.
“Dinner’s on you tonight.”
Chapter 2
That morning hit Ruaidri twice. Once from the devilish nightmares that he could never seem to shake, and the other with him violently knocking his skull against the headboard of his bed. When he opened his eyes, his heart was still drumming in his chest, his ears still ringing from the sound of shattering glass, and he was worried he shouted out as well. He hoped not. The walls were thin, and he wasn’t looking to be made fun of this early in the morning by the other patrons of the Valer Madres.
“Christ alive, can’t I get a break?” Ruaidri mumbled, rubbing his head and forcing himself to rise. It wasn’t every night those specters haunted him, his evenings had grown far quieter the more years that grew between him and that night. Yet, those memories always seemed to find their way back to him to rake the icy claws of misery deep into the fabric of Ruaidri’s mind, jumping him under the cover of languishing dark. The memory felt surreal, as if the actual event itself had only occurred in a dream. Yet, no matter the other worldly feeling of the recollection, it didn’t change the truth- A beast-user broke into his home, killed his mother, and slaughtered his village. Leaving no one alive but him.
Ruaidri resisted the same daily temptation of rolling over and returning back to sleep. He still felt plenty worn out by his active dreams. However, the threat of extra chores hanging over Ruaidri’s head forced him to relent to his responsibilities. I’m not getting jammed up that damned chimney again. My snot was black for a solid week last time!
Ruaidri’s room was unnaturally hot for early spring, causing him to feel sweaty and light-headed. He checked the small cove in the corner of his room. It held a tiny wood stove, only big enough to accrue a few hours worth of decent heating. It should have been long out by now, but it was built up higher than Ruaidri ever attempted or needed to.
Wilt Uno. The man that took him in when tragedy gripped Ruaidri by the throat and tore his life to pieces nearly 6 years ago, chronically cold, must have built up the fire again sometime in the early morning. The old ringtail was convinced in every inch of his striped tail that Ruaidri was going to catch cold if there wasn’t a fire burning in his room at all times. Uno was not going to tolerate Ruaidri resting out sick when there was work to be done.
And there was always work to be done at the Valer Madres.
Ruaidri tried to smooth down the fur at the back of his neck, it had a tendency to stick up when he got frightened. He forced it flat and took an extra second to force his posture straight and mimic the serious and noble expression of the face upon the wall. A colorful illustration of a bold fox clad in shining white armor was hanging from an old rusty nail. The hero sat atop his horse valiantly, raising a giant sword into the air, a majestic blue cape flowing behind him. Ruaidri had lifted one of the palace’s royal guard recruitment posters for his own safe-keeping, the capital was certainly not lacking in them for how often they would crop up along the roads, they wouldn’t miss one.
Ruaidri swept out of his room and began hurrying down the stairs, which was good too, because Uno had one foot on the bottom step. The fox learned quickly from his tenure at the Valer Madres what happens if Uno gets to the top of those stairs. Ruaidri would be shoved right up the chimneys, scrubbing until the sun goes down, and expected to be up at the crack of dawn by the next morning.
“Rojito, almost late again!” Uno glared him down as Ruaidri hopped past him.
“Almost late isn’t late!” Ruaidri pointed out and dashed off to make himself useful before Uno had too much time to consider if the chimneys were looking dusty. The older man smelled of tobacco, the sharp medical tang of elder crimson root, cinnamon, and a fancy smattering of every alcohol they had on the shelves. The only part of that profile that was truly his own, was the cinnamon.
It was an obsession of Uno’s, a gift Kali gave to him in exchange for room and board before she had a copper piece to her name. Now, close to ten years later, Uno is still mistaken to be smoking a pipe in the warm glow of the fireplace at the end of the day, when in reality he was mindfully gnawing on a stick of the spice. Lounging around while I make up dinner, scrub the floors, and tend the bar. Lazy oul ringtail.
Ruaidri cranked the wooden handle of the well, prompting a bucketful of water to come rising out of the darkness and into the early morning glow. The hopeful idea that he’d spend the rest of his days training hard in the art of fighting, hunting, and avenging his family with a rag-tag crew fell away pretty quickly in his first few days at the Valer Madres.
What Ruaidri actually spent his days doing was washing dishes, chopping vegetables, mucking stalls, cleaning rooms, putting up laundry, and endless chores. All that, for three days a week of training from a terrifying thief, an archer that left him with more I.O.U.s than days of proper training, and worst of all- Yaku.
Ruaidri hefted the bucket up, the first of multiple, and began the trek behind the inn to water the horses. I bet the White Knight never had to water his own horse. He thought bitterly. Probably had some push-over squire to tend to his chores for him, too busy saving the world to do something so menial.
Ruaidri’s hero and inspiration, the White Knight, was called so because of his intricately painted white armor and stunning white horse named Azure. The White Knight was a hero, the captain of the royal guard at the palace in Grimmsgarde, and the greatest bounty hunter of all time. No one could out-run him, the knight would roam from town to town, saving innocents from terrors across the land. His legend even spoke of him tracking and trailing a single thief for multiple years.
If the White Knight was there that night, my village would still be standing. I’m sure of it.
Despite being a hero of the land, honored and beloved by all, the White Knight disappeared one day. Taking his iconic white armor, giant long sword, and stunning white horse, leaving nothing behind but his legacy. What happened to him, no one truly knows. All Ruaidri knew were the legends, and that it was high time for someone to step up and fill those shoes.
“Though, yer a bit too red t’be like Azure,” Ruaidri admitted to the stunning wine-brown horse that dunked her nose happily into the freshly filled bucket. She was still young, not ready to be ridden yet, just shy of four years old. “But you’ll be a right valiant steed all the same, won’t ye?”
When Hazina began teaching Ruaidri her sparse lessons, horses tended to be at the center of it all. After a few years of her knowledgeable, if spotty, instruction, she sat him down and grilled him about all she had taught him. Once satisfied with Ruaidri’s answers, Hazina brought him into the stables, pointed down at a freshly born wobbly legged foal, and deemed her Ruaidri’s. He was embarrassed to admit how emotional it made him at the time, but she was his pride, and he cared for her diligently. Even in his complaining towards the endless chores the Valer Madres happily heaped into his arms, he adored the companion he lovingly called Brighid.
Ruaidri finished sloshing more of the water into the adjacent stalls. Hazina’s other two horses, The black and grey spotted Jabari and golden Enzi drank gratefully. Kali’s one true love, the pure black Eshika, was a spirited mare with inwardly pointing ears, she began to show her spirit by stomping her hoof impatiently at Ruaidri.
“Quit giving out, I’m coming.” Ruaidri assured her, as he turned to get another bucket full from the well. The morning sun was peaking over the horizon now, starting to warm the foggy misty morning. Spring had finally turned the corner, and was excited to showcase itself to the world. It put him in a better mood and he basked in the cool warmth.
“There.” Ruaidri sighed, having finished toting the last bucket of water and throwing each creature some hay. He still had plenty to do, but he took a moment to lean on the wooden divider to watch his horse eat. “Make sure you eat up lots, Brighid.” He smiled at her, petting her soft black mane, growing stronger and bigger every day. “One day we’re gonna travel far and wide across Elgrai. We’re going to find that beast-user, and show him the might of the village he destroyed!”
“You’re still on about that?”
The voice behind Ruaidri startled him nearly into falling over backwards, but managed to keep his feet and dignity just barely under him. The same couldn’t be said for the fur at the back of his neck, which he quickly clasped his hands over to stop the ever-present tell of his fearfulness show. Despite the fright, he was glad to see who had snuck up on him.
“Dios, Hazina-!” Ruaidri barked, then bit his tongue, pausing. Hazina’s initial casual friendly smile crashing into a stern glare.
“What was that?”
“Dia dhuit, ‘Zina!” Ruaidri recovered quickly, and she rewarded him with mussing up the fur between his ears.
“That’s what I thought you said!” Hazina was unusually strict with Ruaidri about speaking his mother-tongue. I can’t exactly help it now can I? I’ve worked with Uno all day everyday for the past six bleedin’ years! Ruaidri didn’t quite understand why she was always so on top of him to speak Redd. After all, she couldn’t understand him when he spoke it, the only language they all had in common, was Common.
When Hazina was satisfied with how disheveled Ruaidri now appeared, she lifted his chin and frowned a bit at him.
“Ah, you’re growing too fast, Mpole.” Hazina sighed, “You were up to my knee yesterday.” Ruaidri held himself taller at the compliment. He had been coming into his height recently; he was exactly head to head with Hazina now. It wasn’t incredibly impressive, as hyenas weren’t known for their height, but neither was Ruaidri. He was small for his age in all measurements except his ears, which gave him a much younger appearance, often being mistaken for twelve, rather than the sixteen that he truly was. Hopefully with a few extra inches, I can graduate t’lookin thirteen. Can’t bleedin’ wait.
“What’s the craic round west, ‘Zina?” Ruaidri asked, taking the reins of the other half of Hazina’s team, the steady black and white speckled Sefu and bold white and orange Zori. Red had a special fondness for Zori, as she was Brighid’s mother, and his first riding partner.
“Same old in Foraoise- Oh, they’re building a new school it seems like.” Hazina said as she unloaded heavy crates and goods from the back of the cart. Alcohols, lye, tobacco leaves, salted meats, cabbages, cress, and other materials filled the cart. Hazina didn’t normally do such long journeys, not much reason to go out to the west coast for supplies when other cities lie closer. “Lots are flocking there for a good education.”
Ruaidri closed the final horse stall, fed and watered, giving Zori a few fond rubs on the nose before going to heft boxes with Hazina. “I thought the capital was the place to go for schooling and such.”
Hazina passed Ruaidri a crate full up on bottles that practically made him topple over backwards. He rearranged his footing and kept balance, quietly refusing to ask for help.
“Things change, Mpole.” Hazina lifted her own burden, carrying two stacks of crates on top of each other with ease. “World’s always changing.”
“Ain’t that so.” Ruaidri mumbled and shuffled after her into the inn, hoping that the world wouldn’t change too much with him stuck there hauling hay and hefting boxes.
Everyone greeted Hazina enthusiastically, it was still early in the day and only the few regulars that stayed the night were up and about. Uno and Hazina started yaking it up with each other about the news out there and the news right here while Ruaidri made himself useful and continued to tote in crates of goods.
“Hazina! You didn’t!” Kali’s unsettlingly cheerful voice trilled as she held up a beautiful ornate dagger in her large capable paws. “I couldn’t possibly-“
“I insist!” Hazina crowed with a jovial smile. “I saw it and could only think of one person who should have it, Malaika.”
I couldn’t think of anyone I’d want to have that less, Ruaidri thought as his stomach twisted in nervousness at the sight of the weapon. The last thing she should be is armed. Things like her are dangerous enough as it is.
Ruaidri had made Kali’s acquaintance on his first day at the Valer Madres. Uno had risen Ruaidri from sleep early, set some firm ground rules about when Ruaidri was supposed to have his feet hit the ground, and the coal dust covered consequences of not being awake on time. A threat Ruaidri would later find to not be much of an empty one.
Uno listed all Ruaidri was to do in a day, the amount of chores seeming endless. “But, before all that, you have a specific duty only you can do. If you don’t do it, no deal, understand?”
“Huh?” Ruaidri shook his head, sleep lingering in his eyes and his head still swimming from the large list of chores rattling through his brain.
“You called yourself a healer, you’re going to heal. If you don’t, you don’t stay. Understand?” Uno said to Ruaidri rigidly. Ruaidri flinched from his tone, but nodded in acceptance nonetheless. He had a job to do to be worth keeping around and he was going to do it. He had to. For the sake of his village.
It was the first time Ruaidri had ever met a tiger. He had to crane his neck back to see her face, she smiled kindly and introduced herself. Kali shook his hand very gently, and expressed how excited she was to meet him. He had liked her a lot initially, before he learned the truth.
Uno asked Ruaidri how much he knew about healing, and truthfully, it was a good amount. His mother had been a talented healer in their village, known well enough that she had patients come from all across Elgrai to seek respite from their illnesses. He worked by her side as soon as he could walk, reading through her many medical books and notes. He especially missed the huge family remedy book she penned herself. How he wished he had it now. Every time he was staring down an injury he didn’t quite understand, all he could think of was his mother’s hard-earned wisdom that he didn’t have.
Kali had some sort of ailment she was oddly evasive about explaining. Ruaidri didn’t quite get why, but agreed to help to the best of his ability. He set out what little herbs and balms he had on him, it was far less than he would have liked, but that’s what he fled home with. Ruaidri was confident in his abilities as he carefully cut open her bandages, unprepared to be so deeply humbled by what he saw.
Kali’s skin looked like it was rotting. Her fur stained black, blue, and purple, horrible lesions streaked across her entire body. She had small deep splits all over her skin that were infected and constantly bleeding. Ruaidri didn’t even know what he was looking at.
“What happened?” Ruaidri wheezed, trying not to lose the breakfast he didn’t have yet. He didn’t have a weak constitution, he grew up around all sorts of medical horrors in his kitchen. But this, this was something other worldly; it made his skin crawl.
“I…” Kali’s bright openness turning dim and secretive. “I can’t say.”
“Ye bleedin’ got to!” Ruaidri erupted, fear creeping into his tone. He hadn’t meant to come off so forward, but he couldn’t deny it- he was scared. Ruaidri couldn’t remember the last time a patient’s ailment had ever scared him. It was one of the few things in this world that didn’t scare him. “I don’t know what this is! I-I’ve never seen this before!”
“Kali,” Uno interjected before she could respond. “Apretar los dientes. He is our healer now, you can’t keep secrets from him.”
“He’s a boy, Uno.” Kali whispered, glancing away, running a hand over her injured arm. “This is wrong.” Wait. No. I can’t be kicked out. I need to stay. I have to stay or else I may never get another chance! I have to kill the beast! I have to!
“He will grow. Now go on,” Uno waved a firm, but patient hand. Kali looked apprehensive, her tail flicking nervously.
“But-”
“Whatever ails ye, I will do everything I can to help! No bother at all!” Ruaidri interrupted, biting back the fear and clutching tight to his mother’s wise words- Never show your patients fear, no matter how dire. They look to you for strength.
Ruaidri forced a confident smile, placing his hands behind him so she didn’t notice them shaking, angling his head upwards to hide his prickling neck fur. Kali chuckled at him then, he must have quite the sight, so small and pretending to be so big.
Kali knelt down and opened her palm to Ruaidri. He looked closely, but didn’t see anything at first.
His mother’s words could never prepare him for what he saw. He stumbled back, barking the words he heard from the older foxes of his village say when their parents weren’t around. Words that his mother would have him eat soap for if he ever uttered them in the house.
From Kali’s wrist a new cut had formed right before his eyes. As if an invisible blade had struck through her skin. Sudden and sharp. Instead of blood oozing out, something long, thin, flat, and deep black slithered out. It looked like a flat worm, it had wide milky white glowing eyes at the front of what Ruaidri expected to be a face. As it emerged from her skin, Kali’s warm deep brown eyes took on the same eerie pale shine. The same white glow that gazed into Ruaidri’s eyes before he smashed through that window, glass shattering, shards cutting deep into his face and hands, slicing the life he knew and loved to ribbons.
Kali was a beast-user. Just like the one that destroyed his village.
And that horrible worm was a Beast.
Beasts. The dreadful demon-like creatures that stalked the surface of Elgrai. They were horrible sickening beings of unimaginable power that were said to have crawled up from the deepest pits of hell to wreak havoc and misery upon the living. However, the non-living cannot simply exist in the land of the living, and to circumvent these rules of the universe, the creatures are forced to inhabit a living host.
Like any demon, they need to make a deal, a contract, with a person. If one accepts whatever terms the Beast sets, it will grant the user incredible powers and near invulnerability, with the caveat of becoming the host body for the parasitic demon to live inside. The physical toll of containing a beast, a creature of such unworldly power is unimaginable. It can tear the host apart.
Most would go their whole lives without ever seeing a true beast-user, and Ruaidri was staring down his second.
So it’s you, yes you, that is to keep my vessel in working order, my dear?
It spoke to him. Words that didn’t travel through the air like a normal voice. Ruaidri felt it in his brain, he felt its buzzing, purring hum in his bones, Ruaidri was breathing hard, shaking in his skin, utterly frozen in place.
Not impressed, not impressed. Change my mind, won’t you dear? Speak your name to me, so I shall know it, dear.
I’m going to die here.
“That’s enough.” Kali whispered, and willed it to return to her. Its long ribbony body began to retreat, slinking back under her skin.
No fair, no fair, my dear. If it is to fix my body, should I not know him closer closer closer still, dear? Shall I see what it’s like under his skin, dear?
Oh God above it’s going to kill me. That thing is going to kill me.
“You’re not funny.” Kali scolded it in a low voice, refusing to meet Ruaidri’s eyes as the beast disappeared back into her body. It appeared painful.
They paused there for a long moment, Ruaidri’s fear gripping him like a choking shackle around his throat. Kali’s thumb rubbed the space upon her wrist where the beast had disappeared off to, speaking softly. An odd gentleness to her tone that betrayed just how much of a liar she truly was deep down.
“It’s called the parasite beast.” It was an act. All of it. That much Ruaidri was certain. The only type of person who willingly takes on a beast is harboring some type of visceral evil deep down in the inky blackness of their hearts. Beasts are nothing but evil demons, and their hosts- vessels for darkness. Hungry for power, blood, and pain.
There was some type of horrendous drunkenness to the fear that was gripping Ruaidri, as if he himself were possessed by something beyond his own comprehension. He still had the small blade in his hand that he had used to carefully cut open Kali’s bandage. He had done so with the gentleness his mother instilled in him, a gentleness that was replaced with the icy fangs of fear that prompted him to lunge forward without thinking, the silver in his hand aimed for her throat.
The memory was a blurry, muddled swatch of movement, a scream, and Ruaidri being ripped backwards by the arm. Ruaidri wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or severely unfortunate that Uno had grabbed him before he had come close enough to draw blood from the unsuspecting Kali. That might have been the only chance at a surprise Ruaidri might have gotten. At the same time, he couldn’t help but shudder at the idea of taking a life. He had never drawn blood before. He had vows.
Uno demanded Kali stay where she was while he dragged Ruaidri to the kitchen. Ruaidri had never been yelled at so harshly before, nor since.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing boy!?” Uno laid into Ruaidri, furious, still keeping a firm steely grip in his bicep, giving him a firm shake.
“It’s a beast! It’s a beast, it’s going to kill all of us what are you doing-!?”
“Did you just try to kill my patron!? Are you stupid!? What’s the matter with you!?”
“It’s a beast!” Ruaidri howled, not understanding how Uno could be so calm after what he saw. “It’s a beast! It’s going to kill you!”
“Enough! Shut up!” Uno demanded, Ruaidri tried hard not to cry, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was terrified. It was still there. Right there in the other room. A beast. Uno took one look at Ruaidri’s face and sighed a deep frustrated breath, running his free hand over his face.
“Listen, you.” Uno was still clearly furious with him, but talked down to him in a quieter, controlled tone. “I am well aware Kali is a beast-user.”
“How can you just let a-!”
“And she has been here a lot longer than you!” Uno snapped, pointing an infuriated finger at Ruaidri. “So, here’s how this is going to go- You are going to march your fuzzy red tail back to Kali-“
“But she’s-!”
“You are going to apologize,” Uno emphasized with no room for debate, “and you are going to heal her.”
“B-but, Uno-!”
“Or you can count your days being here as effectively over. Do we have an understanding?” Uno kept firm in his ultimatum, daring Ruaidri to make a choice. He was frozen, he couldn’t imagine what would be worse. Having to not only live with, but touch a beast-user, or give up on his only chance to be trained to become a bounty hunter like the White Knight and avenge his family.
“Listen, Rojito.” Uno sighed again, “There are going to be plenty of patrons you’re not going to like. Trust me. It’s not our job to like people, but it is our job to take care of them. So?”
“But… what if she kills us?” Ruaidri whispered, still unable to see how Uno could be fine with sharing a roof with a demon. Uno just shrugged.
“She won’t. I’ve known her for years.”
“Has she ever killed anyone?” Ruaidri squeaked, Uno snorted.
“Ask her yourself. Don’t bother trying to wring gossip out of me, Rojito. It’s not going to work.” And with that, Uno released the iron grip upon Ruaidri’s arm and left him alone in the kitchen to consider his choices.
Ruaidri could hear Uno and Kali speaking low to each other, too low for Ruaidri to make out. He wanted to run as fast and as far as he could from the beast-user hiding behind that sickly veneer of kindness. That girl was a poison apple, no amount of sweetness could cover the vileness she was so clearly hiding. Even if she managed to fool the old inn-keeper, Ruaidri knew the truth.
Still, Ruaidri had to make a choice. His safety, or to one day be able to kill the beast that murdered his mother.
Ruaidri exited the kitchen, Kali and Uno’s low conversation suddenly ceasing once he approached. Kali looked guarded and pale, Ruaidri decided to attribute it to blood loss from that thing and nothing else. Uno simply crossed his arms and cocked his head at Ruaidri.
“I’m sorry…” Ruaidri forced out, forcing his eyes to meet her deceitful brown eyes that hid the pus-white gaze of a beast. She stared back at him evenly, but her guarded expression couldn’t hide the clear anger simmering beneath. “…Miss.”
He didn’t want to. He was scared. But a young boy turning 10 soon needed to be brave.
Ruaidri forced himself back to the present, quickly adverting his eyes from the beast-user not ten feet from his person. At any moment she could do it. At any moment she can summon that beast’s hellish power, and they’d all be dead.
Ruaidri forced himself to carry on with his work, spying a small black box sitting on top of the bricks of beeswax he carried in. Something about the insignia engraved on the top struck him as familiar somehow. He reached to open it, and had his hand swatted away harshly.
“Not yours, Rojito.” Uno snatched the box away, quickly stashing it below the bar. Uno’s swift grumpiness prompting Ruaidri to take a jump back in surprise. “Did you look inside?” Uno grilled, weirdly defensive.
“Didn’t get a bleedin’ chance t’even touch the thing!” Ruaidri defended, putting his hands up. I don’t want yer cinnamon, ye strange oul fella. Uno looked like he was going to say something further when a loud yelp cut through the quiet inn.
“Sorry! I’m sorry, Yaku!” Kali clasped her hands over her mouth. Ruaidri followed where she was looking, specifically at the dagger Hazina gifted Kali, expertly thrown and stuck into the wall, having cleared Yaku’s head by barely two inches. His tall ears split on either side of his head, looking rattled for the briefest of moments before growling at her from across the room.
“Use your eyes, stupid girl!”
“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t see you there!”
“Too bad.” Ruaidri scoffed, thinking himself only loud enough for Uno to hear. “Hard t’think she could miss a target so ugly.”
Yaku’s iconic scowl came back to him while he snatched up the heavy spear he dropped in his panic. Ruaidri flinched from the harsh glare Yaku shot his way, kicking himself for not keeping his mouth shut.
When Yaku stormed up to Ruaidri, Ruaidri didn’t hesitate to duck behind Uno for cover, who let out a low hum in annoyance. Yaku’s imposing height and penchant for using that spear in creative ways prompted Ruaidri to seek asylum.
“What’s the matter, coward? Can’t face your own problems? Still need tío to protect you?” Yaku taunted, circling around to secure a decent opening to bully Ruaidri further. Bite me, ye ugly rat bastard. Ruaidri thought, but didn’t dare say it to his face. Yaku’s intimidating angry green eyes forcing Ruaidri into a fearful silent glare.
“If you have time to stir the pot you have time to bring in the laundry. Would you quit causing trouble?” Uno huffed an irritated sigh, stopping Ruaidri’s evasive circling by grabbing him by the ear. The pause being exactly the opening Yaku needed to drive the butt of his spear deftly into Ruaidri’s gut, knocking him backwards to the floor, pain cracking right where he was jabbed.
“Christ alive…” Ruaidri wheezed, holding his stomach. Now won’t that leave a decent bruise. Bastard.
“And would you grow up?!” Uno had shouted back at Yaku, snatching his spear. The two of them bickered at each other while Ruaidri pulled himself back up to his feet, stomach hurting and pride aching worse. Fantastic. Just grand. Everyone saw that. Cheers, Yaku. Ye great arse. Ruaidri made a wide circle around Yaku as he headed for the door, glaring daggers at his back.
“What?” Yaku spat at Uno, “you forced me to be the little demon’s babysitter! You said I gotta teach him. Well, I am!”
And for that, I’ll never forgive ye, Wilt Uno. Ruaidri thought sorely, deeply wishing Uno had found him some better teachers.
“Seems to me all you want to do is push the boy around.” Uno pointed out.
“Me? Come on.” Yaku smiled darkly, snatching his spear back. “I’m only doing what’s best for him. Pain is an excellent teacher.”
Ruaidri should have seen it coming. His sneaking away was not quite as subtle as he had hoped, and the wide berth he gave Yaku clearly not wide enough, as Yaku managed to whip around and land a firm strike atop Ruaidri’s head.
“Ow-! Let me be!” Ruaidri barked as a fresh crest of pain exploded atop his crown, keeping his head covered in case of another strike.
“There! Now aren’t we wiser?” Yaku sneered as Ruaidri backed away carefully. This is why no one likes you. He felt about for the front door, not about to turn his back upon the maned wolf twice while Uno massaged his temples in irritation. The ringtail either regretting Ruaidri’s tenure there or Yaku’s. Ruaidri chose to believe he at least provided some semblance of worth to the Valer Madres, Yaku wasn’t worthwhile to anyone.
Kali was a patient teacher, and while he was sure of her underlying spite, he couldn’t deny she treated him with an unsettling kindness nonetheless. Hazina was always a friendly, welcome sight, but probably the laziest and most aloof of the three, Ruaidri was lucky to squeeze a lesson out of her in the rare times she actually was at the inn. But Yaku Yupanqui, the bitter maned wolf and his ego, his arrogance, his pushiness, his rudeness? He and Ruaidri saw eye to eye as often as an owl did a mouse.
Red and Yaku’s first meeting hadn’t gone very smoothly either. Ruaidri knew some magic, mostly healing spells. He was so excited to be able to spend some time with a real, powerful magic user, as Hazina had told Ruaidri at length how Yaku hailed from one of the most mighty magic families in all of Elgrai.
“No.” Yaku told Ruaidri sternly at his request. No magic. No spells. No curses. No enchantments. Nothing.
“But-”
“No.” Yaku restated, kicking a heavy wooden training spear into Ruaidri’s hands. “I do not teach my magic to just anyone and especially not to pathetic things like you.” Yaku moved as swift and smooth as a raging river, as painful and as deadly as one too. Swiping Ruaidri’s feet from under him, sending his back right into the mud. Yaku pressed the base of his spear into Ruaidri’s chest, pinning him there, making it hard to breathe. Yaku leaned in close enough that Ruaidri could feel Yaku’s hot hateful breath on his face, eyes consumed with contempt.
“Magic is a noble, powerful, superior form of being. It is not simply something you do, it is all that you are. Every man is worth as much as their lineage and ability allows. And you are hardly allowed the right to choke on your own spit. You, red fox, will not be taught magic from me. You’ll be lucky if I even perform a spell in front of you.”
After those cruel words, Ruaidri and Yaku haven’t been on much better terms since. Ruaidri had no idea what the maned wolf’s problem was. The one day a week of spear training with Yaku was far worse than any chimney sweeping.
Ruaidri spent the rest of the late morning and afternoon attending the Valer Madres. Making up beds, replacing the straw, washing dishes, and preparing for the evening rush.
“Rojito,” Uno called from the open door at the base of the stairs. “Come replace the keys.”
“Right.” Ruaidri called back and placed the rest of the wet glasses he was washing on a rack to dry. He traveled to the side room of the inn they called Lady Luck’s door. The only items inside the room being the many locked chests strewn all over the small space. On the floor, lining the walls, atop a few old wood crates, chests all over shut tight with large iron locks.
Uno was carrying a large sack filled with gold coins, consulting a stack of papers in his hand, dropping a specific amount into each, and shutting the lock tight. Ruaidri glanced around to count the amount of mounting and tempting chests of gold. 13 full of bounty, and 4 vacant.
Ruaidri didn’t count the large ornate golden lined chest in the center of the room. That one has never been opened before, and it probably never will.
“Thirteen?” Ruaidri whistled, trying not to appear too excited as Uno dropped the last of the gold into the final chest. “Have the low-lifes been more active recently?”
“Seems so.” Uno dusted his hands off from the old lock. “Here, hang up our next crop.” He said and dumped the 13 pages into Ruaidri’s hands. Ruaidri skimmed through the pages, various drawings of incriminating faces he’s never seen before, but will see very soon. The most exciting part of this boring job was watching the bounty hunters drag in their prizes.
Ruaidri took the wanted posters behind the bar and grabbed a small ladder to prop up against the wall. High above the stove and shelves lined with their collection of drinks, lay a scattered bunch of iron nails hammered into the brick. Ruaidri moved quickly along the familiar task of pressing each paper through the pegs, leaving the pages hanging high for all to see.
Once each metal nail in the brick was adorned with a wanted portrait, Ruaidri took out a small polished box full of ornate golden keys, each one engraved with numbers that corresponded to a chest in Lady Luck’s room.
With careful aim, Ruaidri threw each key upwards, the loop in the end hooking around the proper nail. With a satisfying ting! the key spun around the iron spike, and settled golden and glittering in the light of the stove fire. Uno followed behind Ruaidri and assisted in swinging the keys up to their resting place. Adorned on the wall they would stay until a hunter dragged the bound felon in, spitting and cursing. Uno would hand them the key, they would let themselves right into the door of lady luck, open the chest of their key’s number, and pocket their well earned bounty.
As for the face on the page, Uno would hold them in the fortified cellar until the end of the month, when the royal guard would roll in with a harsh cold metal cart on the back of two silvery blue horses. They collect the offenders for trial in the capital, pay off Uno the bounties, and hand him a new stack of unlawfuls to catch.
Not only was it a profession of significant admiration around these parts, but one Ruaidri was determined to have as his own. It wasn’t enough to simply kill the beast, Ruaidri planned on dragging whoever the host of the beast was to justice. Just as the White Knight would have done. After succeeding in his life’s goal, Ruaidri would continue to pursue the villains that brought harm to the peaceful county of Elgrai, protecting innocents from the horrors he had seen. It brought Ruaidri great pride to know he was on the path of doing good.
Ruaidri grabbed the last few keys to hang, gazing at the largest one at the bottom of the little box Uno kept them in. The keys were all unique, but that one was particularly large and decorated, with giant ornamental swoops and curls around the handle and a ruby embedded into the end. It opened the largest chest in the Lady Luck room; it was the most valuable trunk in the room, according to Uno. He refused to say what was inside. Simply stating that it was the most valuable thing to him, and that if there was ever a job he needed done that was a matter of life or death to him, then he’d hang that key up high on the wall, and give away his most precious treasure. The rumors of what was inside that chest had been passed around for years, but at the end of the day, no one knew what was in there but Uno.
As they ornamented the last of the iron nails, Uno reminisced of days long past and complained about the days current- weather too cold, capital politics too tumultuous, and materials too expensive. Uno regaled how he used to ride each individual criminal into the capital himself back in the day, atop a cheap jumpy horse with a cursing felon bound in the back of the cart.
“And God help you if you let the bastard escape!” Uno continued on, “Mezcal would beat you blind!”
“And string ye up, and starve ye for weeks, and set the dogs after ye, I know I know.” Ruaidri rolled his eyes, nothing he hadn’t heard a million times before.
“It was the biggest pain I ever had to deal with until I smooth talked a deal with the royal guard. Consider yourself lucky you didn’t have to deal with that! Handling the riffraff had been a lot easier since then.”
“And much easier since I showed up, hm?” Ruaidri beamed, slinging the last of the keys upon the wall.
“Hmm…” Uno thought long and hard about it, taking a weary sidelong glance at his underling.
“Hey! I pull my weight!”
“Maybe on a good day.” Uno considered. “But you do piss off Yaku.”
“That arse is always pissed.” Ruaidri huffed as the first few patrons of the night started to trickle in, calling out in greetings. “Well… can I go?”
“Go? Right before the evening rush? HAH, you’re funny, Rojito.” Uno rolled his eyes, stepping into the kitchen.
“Hey, I told ye about this!” Ruaidri cut Uno off, running in front of him. “Kali’s going to take me on a real job tonight! Ye said I could if I finished up me duties, and I did!” Uno glared him down, something flashed behind his eyes that Ruaidri couldn’t quite place.
“A real job?”
“Right! I’m bringing in some riffraff of me own!” Ruaidri beamed, nervousness and excitement coursed through him in tandem. A real job. Finally. No more useless, flimsy, practice sessions. His road to avenging his family starts today.
“You’re going with Kali? I thought you were scared stiff of her and that beast.” Uno pointed out, crossing his arms.
“Ah, w-well… N-No! Of course not!” Ruaidri stuttered out, he has been trying not to think too hard about the idea of being alone with her. He kept reminding himself that if she wanted to kill him, she would have done it by now. He was her healer, he was the reason she could walk relatively pain-free now. After all these years of treatment, he’s been able to get her endless wounds down to a manageable level. He was of use to her, so she had no reason to kill him. That’s what he told himself, anyway. “C-come now, I’m not a pup anymore! I’m not scared of her!”
“What if your target has a spear? What will you do then?” Uno chuckled, a rush of heat came to Ruaidri’s shoulders as he recalled his earlier shameful punishment from Yaku.
“Yeah sure, but- Well- It’s- I need practice somehow!” Ruaidri finally barked, exasperated. “Yaku’ll never teach me a damned thing, and ‘Zina said I gotta be older t’go out on a job! This is all I got! Uno please, ye gotta understand!”
Uno heaved a deep sigh, tapping his foot. “Right. It’s what you gotta do, yeah?”
“I have to.” Ruaidri nodded.
“Fine.” Uno accepted begrudgingly. “But you’re gonna be making candles tomorrow, understood?”
“Right! Thanks, Uno!” Ruaidri cheered. Uno wasn’t angry with him, but he didn’t smile either. Ruaidri still couldn’t place what exactly that expression was, but he was so excited for his first real job that he didn’t pay the grumpy ringtail any mind. Ruaidri hopped over the bar, despite the fact Uno hated when he did so, and slid over to Kali who was speaking in a hushed tone with Yaku at the back of the inn.
“Kali! I’m ready! Uno said I’m all set t’go!” Ruaidri tried to hide his overwhelming excitement, but he’s been waiting for this for years. For the moment his actual training stops being theoretical, the first step toward ending this nightmare for good.
“Oh, Ruaidri, I’m so sorry!” Kali smiled sympathetically, pressing her hands together. “We can’t, not tonight.” Ruaidri felt his tail and ears droop. Yaku snickered at his disappointment, making Ruaidri’s stomach churn in further shame.
“But you said-”
“I know! I know, Chottu!” Kali took a quick step to him, the suddenness caused his heart to spike and he jumped back several feet. The hand Kali had reached out to him quickly retreated back to her side. Her tone grew tighter as she continued on, that fake kindness she had everyone fooled with wearing thin.
“Look, I thought we could, but I don’t have all the information I need for the job. I’m going to have to take a real job tonight and I can’t be getting caught because of you, alright?”
Kali’s harsh rejection stung, Ruaidri had thought she was taking him on this job because his abilities would prove useful, but it would appear she had no faith in him at all. “But-”
“She said,” Yaku interjected, “you’d be a burden! Go make yourself useless somewhere else!” Ruaidri was so embarrassed and upset he didn’t even get the vindication of Kali slapping at Yaku’s arm while he barked out his harsh loud laughter. Ruaidri quietly slipped back behind the bar and began making someone a drink, the inn growing lively and busy around him.
Uno cast him a surprised glance when he noticed Ruaidri wordlessly working at his side. Uno didn’t say anything, but gave Ruaidri a firm pat on his shoulder.
The night grew on and the inn roared with drinking, talking, and the general merriment that came with commencing the end of a long day and longer week. Patrons making claims on which of the mugs that lined the walls they’d bag, and what they’d do with the sizable rewards. Ruaidri pretended to not notice when Kali walked out of the inn, dressed in dark leather armor for her job. Various assortments of throwing knives and daggers adorned her grieves, forearms, and affixed to her sides. She moved light and quiet like a shadow when she was ready for a job. She left without a sound, her beast surely revving and growling for blood.
Uno let out a deep eye-rolling sigh and grabbed Ruaidri by the back of his collar. Ruaidri was mindlessly scrubbing a stain on the bar without much purpose, doing anything to keep busy to keep from having to talk about it. But with a swift tug, Ruaidri stumbled backwards and Uno looked him over sternly, arms crossed. “What happened, Rojito?”
There was a level of privacy that came with talking low behind the bar of a crowded energetic inn. People were cheering and jeering and making loose bets with each other, old friends arguing like enemies, enemies hanging off each other like old friends. Surrounded by the likes of passer-bys, Mooresglade locals, Armardian stone masons, and even a few rowdy young adults from Grimmsgarde looking for trouble. In the sea of uproar and drunkards singing to the ceiling, it was somehow even more private than if they spoke behind closed doors.
Ruaidri vented out his frustrations. He poured out his resentments of grinding himself down to a pulp for the past six years trying to get absolutely anything of use out of his three hunting mentors.
“I just-!!” Ruaidri paused, not realizing exactly how furious he actually was until he started pacing around the bar and ranting to Uno, who didn’t move from his spot leaning against the wall. “None of them actually take me seriously!” He growled, feeling as small and young as everyone always treated him. “I saw my village get slaughtered in front of my eyes, Uno! I heard their screams for hours! Whoever that beast-user was they- they-…” Ruaidri shook his head, a frustrated growl bursting from his throat while he pushed back the long ears he knew he still hadn’t grown into yet.
“I need t’be the one t’kill them! I will be the one! I must!” Ruaidri got out, viciously. After laying down his final statement, he realized he was hardly breathing at all through his vitriol. He took a deep breath and panted, feeling lightheaded, tired, and confused. “How does Yaku do it? How can he be so angry all the time? It’s exhausting.” Ruaidri wondered out loud through his haggard breathing. Uno, who had been standing quiet and firm as a stone wall to Ruaidri’s fury, cracked and belted out a sharp laugh.
“Well, Yaku doesn’t work.” Uno pointed out and Ruaidri let out a small chuckle of his own, catching his breath. True. “C’mon,” Uno pushed Ruaidri towards the kitchen. Probably more to do. Prep for tomorrow. Cleaning for tonight. Always more to do. Can’t be standing around for too long.
When Ruaidri got into the kitchen, he looked for what needed to be done and saw nothing particularly pressing. He looked over his shoulder to shoot Uno a questioning look, then noticed Uno was carrying that box Ruaidri was swatted away from earlier. Uno placed the box into Ruaidri’s hands.
“I thought ye said it wasn’t for me?” Ruaidri tilted his head. Uno shrugged at this, appearing nonchalant.
“I can change my mind.” Ruaidri rolled his eyes. Strange oul fella. Ruaidri’s breath caught in his throat when he opened the small box, the first thing that hit him wasn’t even the look of the object. It was the smell. It was the deep familiar scent of water ginger, a specific root that only grew in the Moonseye lake next to his village in Darkwood. He almost didn’t believe it, but its sharp, warm, distinct scent was undeniable.
It was a small cake, heavily spiced with the root that was at the center of most meals in his village. He could smell fresh cooked apples folded into the delicious batter with the vibrant red of mudberries found in Darkwood’s abundant forest boiled down into a sweet tangy syrup and drizzled on top.
Ruaidri remembered that design on the box now, it was the symbol of the bakers in the town next to his village. On the occasions his mother would take him to the neighboring town in Foraoise, they would always visit the bakery there. The bakers were old friends of hers who she had met while studying medicine at the university there many years ago. A wise-cracking bear-cat, from Living Shore Knoll owned the shop with her partner, a shy sand cat, from the Sandcat Village in the middle of the Amberglass dessert.
His mother would go in, where her and her old pal would talk for far too long while Ruaidri looked at the beautiful cakes and donuts on the shelves behind the counter. Stuck with the impossible choice of what to choose of that rare treat. There were always so many options, how did Uno know I chose their apple cake every time?
“Sorry, Rojito.” Uno mumbled, breaking Ruaidri from his thoughts. Ruaidri looked up, realizing just then he had tears in his eyes. “I just thought…”
Ruaidri didn’t say a word, he couldn’t. He knew if he did he’d truly break. He simply leaned his head upon his mentor’s shoulder in a quiet appreciation while trying to keep that prickling sorrow down the best he could.
“Heh, it’s good then?” Uno asked, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze.
“Yeah, it’s good.” Ruaidri mumbled, remembering holding his mother’s hand while they found a spot in the city to sit and enjoy their dessert.
“Well, it better.” Uno huffed. “Hazina said those bakers mentioned you by name, that it was your favorite.”
“It is.” Ruaidri sniffed, trying to push through the heaviness in his chest. He hadn’t thought about those two in a very long time, did they grieve when they learned their friend had been slain? Suddenly Ruaidri was thinking of every other friend, neighbor, and worker in his village that must have had friends and loved ones outside of the village. It wasn’t just him that lost a family. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people all across Elgrai must have lost childhood friends, loves, and companions. The thought of so many Elgraians feeling the same heaviness he felt right now nearly shook a sob out of him.
Ruaidri pulled away, wiping at his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Ye always be crying far too easily there, Ruaidri. That’s not the making of a hero.
“There you go, Rojito.” Uno gave him a few firm pats on the back. “You gonna eat now, or what?” Ruaidri smiled, nodding enthusiastically. He turned to dig around for a knife to cut the slice in half.
“What’s this all for?” Ruaidri asked, taking the instrument to the soft dessert. “Feelin’ bad for keepin’ me up late drying and grinding tobacco?”
Uno laughed, leaning against the counter top stained from years of splitting vegetable juices. “As if. If I’d had any sense I’d work you harder.” Ruaidri scoffed at the thought.
“Work me any harder and my red will come clean off.”
“Is that to blame for why you take so long to do anything?” Uno cracked before answering Ruaidri’s question. “It was around now, six years ago when you came here, if I remember. Late winter.”
“Early spring,” Ruaidri corrected. “It’s not the weather’s fault you’re always cold.”
“It damn well is! Who else is to blame for this never-ending chill?” Uno barked as he pulled up a crate to sit, Ruaidri doing the same. “Six years is a long time to be far from home. I remember my first few years up here, and all I could think about was my abulita’s marranitos.”
“The hog-shaped sweets?”
“Sí, so you do listen to me when I talk.”
“Sometimes I bear it.” Ruaidri jabbed and offered him half the cake, Uno put his hand up in refusal.
“Ah, that’s for you.”
“It’s for sharing, that’s the point!” Ruaidri said with a bit more force than he anticipated. He could tell Uno was ever so slightly taken aback by it, but recovered smoothly.
“Well, I’m not going to say no twice.” Uno took half the cake, and gave it a sniff. “Apples. And… What is that musk?”
“Water ginger, it’s really good. I think you’d like it.”
“Never heard of it,” Uno muttered before taking a bite; Ruaidri did the same. The flavors took him back. He felt the cool breeze that drifted across the stone courtyard of Foraoise, the warm hearth that glowed in the bakery, his mother’s laughter bright as a bell as Randsi the bear-cat dropped her best and brightest jokes. He could hear his mother’s singing while she made dinner with him sat atop the counter next to her, sorting through their foraged herbs for the day, and putting them into their proper bottles for the apothecary.
“I’ll give it to you,” Uno mused, interrupting Ruaidri daydreaming. “Almost as good as marranitos.”
“Almost!? No manches, oul fella!” Ruaidri shot back, taking another bite.
“Watch your language, Rojito! Hazina’s gonna hear you!” Uno teased, wagging a finger at him for his Soli.
“Let her hear! No way, this is the best that food can be!” Ruaidri shot back. They went back and forth about food and music, weather and coastlines. What home meant to the two of them sitting right there, how far away it was for both of them, living there in between. The Red Fox Village lay presumably abandoned, falling to rot in the west on the other side of the Darkwood forest while Sol Muerto was changing and moving on without Uno. Follow the Great Divide river south, and keep going south until you hit paradise. That was the instructions Uno always gave to find his home town.
“Uno, why didn’t ye ever go back? I mean… ye can, can’t ye?” Ruaidri asked, eating the last bit of his cake, making sure to remember the taste closely.
“For a while, no.” Uno crossed his arms, getting that nostalgic but slightly irritated look he got whenever he thought of the previous owner of the inn. “My mentor kept me on a tight leash, he only let me write home once a week.”
“That’s all?” Ruaidri perked. “Why? What was his bleedin’ deal?” Uno laughed loudly at that.
“Mijo, I have been asking the same question for the past thirty years! Don’t bother thinking too hard about it, you won’t get an answer.” Uno leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee. “But, even when the ol’ cabrón cracked up and skipped off into the woods, it just meant I had more to do.” Uno got a far off look, thinking. He turned his gaze back to Ruaidri.
“Have I told you much about Santiago Mezcal?”
“Other than he was madder than a fiddler dancing on moonshine? Not really.”
“Hm.” Uno nodded, “Well, a big part of what made him insufferable was how he couldn’t get over the fact his lady friend was stolen away by another man.” Ruaidri choked on the water in his mug and laughed.
“Why hide the fun details, Uno? Had his wan taken, huh? Made him all looney?”
“Something like that,” Uno laughed. “Mezcal wasn’t all bad, there was a reason people flocked here and fell over themselves for him. He was charming, convincing, a friend to all. He knew people and well loved he was.” Uno recounted, seeming to remember Mezcal’s showmanship and swagger clear as day.
“But he couldn’t handle losing. So, despite having many a fair lady waiting to snatch him up, he wouldn’t accept that his old flame didn’t want him back. First it was flowers, then it was exotic desserts from across the region, then it was expensive perfumes from across the country… nothing.”
“Well, yeah. Ye can’t buy love.” Ruaidri muttered, that much his mother instilled deeply into him. He was to always mind his manners, especially around ladies. His mother was a gentle soul, but there was a strict almost icy way she spoke about how to respect the girls in his life. If a lady requests ye let her be, ye let her be. No arguments.
“Hah! You tell him that!” Uno barked. “He went bigger and bigger trying to win her affection, get back to those good ol’ days and rekindle that flame. It was never enough. Until he finally snapped. After the desperate lovesick fool burned out his oil, all that was left was the want for vengeance on his poor broken heart.” Uno pulled out a flint-striker from his pocket and expertly lit the candle on the counter next to him in a single strong strike.
“So, he wrote a bounty of his own, got the capital to sign off on it, and sent a hoard of hunters after the man that stole his girl. They dragged him back to the Valer Madres, and Mezcal broke every bone in the poor guy’s body before dealing the final blow.”
“A s-story you heard?”
“A story I saw. In fact, the poor guy looked a lot like you, Ruaidri.”
“Oh…. Grand….” Ruaidri choked, he always thought the dark stories Uno told of Mezcal were supposed to try and make Ruaidri feel grateful that the hard-driving Uno was in charge, and not the hellish harder-driving Santiago Mezcal. Ruaidri was beginning to realize Santiago Mezcal wasn’t just some boogeyman to keep him from complaining, that Mezcal guy was actually insane.
“Well, his lady found out and ran to the Valer Madres as fast as she could.” Uno continued. “And she saw the very moment Mezcal caved in his skull with a stone from the fireplace. Needless to say, Mezcal expected her to leap into his arms, free of the man she once loved.”
“Oh yeah?!” Ruaidri yelped, thoroughly spooked. “How’d that bleedin’ work out?”
“About as well as you’d expect.” Uno scoffed. “She just about burned the whole inn down with everyone inside. She slapped him, cursed him, and ran away. Where she went off to then, Mezcal didn’t know. She was gone. It didn’t take long before Mezcal lost it for good, some say they can still hear him calling out for his love in the deep Darkwood forest.”
“Ye can’t scare me, Uno!” Ruaidri snapped, scared. “I grew up in Darkwood, it’s not that scary!” He shivered, while Uno cracked up, slapping his knee.
“I’m not trying to scare you, Rojito. I’m trying to warn you.”
“Warn me? Fine, I won’t kill anyone over a girl, promise. Cheers. Great story, Uno.” Ruaidri huffed, Uno shook his head.
“Not that. Mezcal let himself drown in his grief instead of trying to find a way out. He did everything to get her back, but never could. She wasn’t coming back. And when he finally realized it, all he had was rage. He needed something to do, and if he couldn’t bring her back, he would have his revenge. And after he dirtied his hands with the unforgivable, she disappeared. With nothing left but empty anger with nowhere to go, he had nothing. Something had to fill that space, but it was never peace. All that was left of him was madness. And now his bones are long sunken into the moss of Darkwood, no body to bury, no headstone to remember him, no friends to mourn him.”
Ruaidri shuddered, horrified to imagine the crazed jaguar crashing through the dark forest, screaming out a name that would not respond, hands sullied with innocent blood. Uno finally stopped looking off into the distance and trained his gaze on Ruaidri. He’s never seen that expression on Uno before, it was worry.
“I don’t want to see that happen to you, Ruaidri. You’re a young talented healer. You got good brains, a decent amount of the time, anyway. That is not where you’re meant to end up, signing away your life to someone who took everything from you. That beast-user took away the joy of your past, it’s tearing away the peace from your present, and if you keep along the path you’re treading, it’ll rob you of your future.”
Uno sat back, taking out a stick of cinnamon from his pocket. He gnawed on it thoughtfully, looking into the slow burning candle, casting its warm glow across the stone kitchen, growing dark as the night marched on. There was a sadness there, for as much as Uno fired off at the mouth about the crazy Mezcal, Ruaidri wondered if deep down Uno wished things could have been different. But Ruaidri knew better than anyone, wishing can never change what’s done. He pleaded with whatever God would listen to bring his family back, but he always came to the same conclusion- you can never go back. You can’t change what’s been done.
“Did you ever go back?” Ruaidri asked, “See your family again in Sol Muerto after Mezcal was gone?”
“No time to think about traveling, I had a keep to earn.” Uno said, shrugging. “I suppose the work was always endless so, I kept my head down and I worked. I wrote to my folks less and less, and well… that was that.”
“Well… what about now? I could handle things here for a few weeks.” Uno looked surprised at the offering, almost touched, but quickly slipped back into indifference and waved him off.
“Even if I did trust you to be able to handle the Valer Madres solo, I don’t think so.”
“What’re you giving out for all this time if yer not gonna go back?” Ruaidri spat, a little offended, but mostly confused. “I’d go home if I could! What’s the problem? I bet every chest in the Lady’s room Sol Muerto is still there.” He pointed out, miffed Uno wouldn’t go home if he had the chance. Ruaidri didn’t get that privilege.
“Chale, I don’t doubt it stands.” Uno waved him off. “I doubt it’s the same city I grew up in. It’s been 45 years, Rojito. Almost half a century! I can’t go back, because what I want isn’t Sol Muerto, what I want is my Sol Muerto. The one I grew up in. I can never go home, it doesn’t exist anymore.”
Ruaidri sat with that thought for a few moments, looking down at the remnants of the freshly picked apart cake. The memory held his hand through the dark of his current life, a kiss from a ghost. It was still special, even if it would never feel as good as sitting with his mother on those windy afternoons.
“Think we can try to make marranitos?” Ruaidri asked. Uno’s ears perked up in surprise, an incredulous grin playing on his face.
“YOU want to make marranitos?”
“We ought to. Ye got to try the apple cake, how else are we going to settle which is better?” Uno’s grin widened as he spread his arms as wide as his smile.
“What is this? Are you challenging me?”
“I’m just sayin’, lad.” Ruaidri shrugged, “Ye do sound a wee scared.”
“¡No manches! You’re on, Rojito!” Uno grabbed his hand and shook it roughly. Sealing the deal. “Just prepare yourself to lose!”
“We’ll see, oul fella!”
“I wonder if they’d taste good with cinnamon.” Uno wondered and Ruaidri scoffed.
“You’d put cinnamon on anything.”
“It’d be good-!” Just then a loud banging emanated from the bar behind the curtain, followed by a voice.
“Hello-!? Uno? Kid? Don’t we get a last call?”
“My name’s Ruaidri.” Ruaidri growled under his breath at the hidden patron, perhaps angrier than he needed to be. I’ve been here for six years for crying out loud! Why doesn’t anyone here know my name?! Uno laughed and heaved himself up, groaning.
“Vengo!” Uno called, pulling Ruaidri up from his spot on the crate. “C’mon, Rojito. Let’s close up.”
They must have been in the kitchen longer than Ruaidri realized, because when he reached up and tugged on the rope attached to the brass bell on the wall, signaling the last call on drinks, it was like a second night rush all over again.
Coin changed hands, drinks got passed around, dishes, food, running to restock whatever runs dry, tobacco, info on the faces on the wall, rooms for the night, puke in the corner, singing, cheering, crying, yelling, haggling over bounties, sharp refutations, and splitting patrons before a bar fight can break out because Yaku doesn’t know how to shut up.
Same old Valer Madres.
It may not be home, but it was home to those who had no home. It was Ruaidri’s home. It was Uno’s home. It belonged to him, it belonged to everyone. It was falling apart, it would be there forever. It was torment, it was a haven. It was home. And for the first time in his life, Ruaidri didn’t want to leave.
“And don’t come back until you can behave, Pendejo!” Uno barked after shoving someone out the door for stirring up trouble, slamming the thick wood shut and sliding the iron lock swiftly. He promptly turned around and started yelling at the other guilty party- Yaku. Ruaidri always felt like his Soli was pretty good until Uno got into it with another Soli or Lunarian speaker, he couldn’t keep up with their spitfire back and forth if he tried.
With no reason to eavesdrop, Ruaidri flitted around the inn, gathering plates and mugs, dousing the larger lanterns that hung from the ceiling and tapping out most of the sconces that lined the wall. Leaving only a few candles lit and the radiance of the fire to light his way as he tidied around the passed out drunks and lingering patrons staggering for the door.
Ruaidri took a patron’s coins and wrote her name down on the slab behind the bar for a room as Yaku stormed off to his own, Uno returning back behind the bar, both still furiously cursing each other out the whole way.
“Ground floor, second door on the right.”
“Thanks, kid.”
“No bother,” Ruaidri muttered. Ruaidri. My name is bleedin’ Ruaidri. No one respects me in this damned inn. “Be cleared out before midday.” The patron waved in acknowledgment and trudged to her room as Uno huffed an aggressive sigh, still muttering curses under his breath.
“You gon’ give Yaku a kiss goodnight too, jefe?” Ruaidri snickered.
“Hilarious.” Uno grunted and gave himself a pull of the last swallow of whiskey left on the shelf behind them as soon as the last of the patrons had filtered out of the now quiet inn. Uno rested his back and arms along the shelf, reclining slightly. “Well, go on, get yourself to bed. Don’t wanna be tired for Kali tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll get what she needs for that job tonight.”
Ruaidri paused from counting the coins in the small chest behind the register, dividing up the excess from the day to lock away in Uno’s room for safe-keeping.
“Ye know… I’ve been thinking,”
“Uh oh.”
“Sod off!” Ruaidri tossed over his shoulder, going back to counting. “I’ve been thinking… I might turn Kali down on the offer.” Just saying it made his chest hurt.
“Oh?”
“Ma wouldn’t want this for me.” Ruaidri admitted what he had spent six years trying not to think about, leaning on the old oak bar. Uno walked back up beside him, gazing ahead.
“No?”
“No.” Ruaidri shook his head. “I know she wouldn’t.”
It wasn’t fair how that cake brought so much of his mother back to him then. This wasn’t the future she saved his life for. It felt almost like an insult to her memory.
“What do you think she’d want for you?” Ruaidri didn’t need to think hard, remembering how she glowed every time she could save a few coins at the end of the week, putting it aside for him.
“She’d want me to go to the capital and get a decent education. That’s what she said she was always saving for.” Uno inspected the young fox’s face, Ruaidri was not looking very excited about the idea. “Okay,” Uno shrugged, nonchalantly. “So you know what your anger wants and now we know what your ma wants. So, what do you want, Ruaidri?”
Ruaidri was incredibly surprised with himself at what he said, and even more surprised at the fact it was true.
“I want t’stay here.”
Uno seemed astounded at this, but pleased.
“Glad to have you, rojito.” Uno nodded and gave Ruaidri a firm pat on the shoulder. “Stay as long as you like. I’ll always be here.”
Ruaidri opened his mouth to respond, but was startled into silence as the few candles he left behind all flickered out at once, plunging the bar into an oppressive blue black darkness, held back only by the low flickering of the red flames in the fireplace. There was no wind to have done it, and the candles hadn’t reached the bottom of their tin stands by a long shot.
Ruaidri and Uno met each other’s eyes in confusion, but before either could say a word of the phenomenon, Ruaidri saw Uno’s eyes dart to something behind Ruaidri. There was a fear in Uno’s expression Ruaidri had never seen in the sturdy ringtail before.
Before Uno could stop him, Ruaidri glanced over his shoulder. He felt this heart stop in his chest for what felt like an eternity, before it burst into a beat akin to the frantic galloping of a horse fleeing from a barn fire.
There in the window, in the murky navy of the night, two large glowing milky white eyes staring right into his own, and disappearing. The locked door directly next to the window suddenly came alive, pounding and rattling in a frenzied clamor.
Ruaidri’s legs dropped out from under him, Uno caught him. Uno was yelling something to him, but he couldn’t hear it. Blood was pounding in Ruaidri’s ears, he could feel himself screaming but couldn’t even understand himself. Ruaidri was vaguely aware he was babbling in his native tongue, calling upon the mercy of an indifferent God and the protection of his fallen mother.
Ruaidri dug his claws into Uno’s arms as he hefted the fox up in his arms, half carrying and half dragging Ruaidri away. The door pounded pounded pounded. Louder and louder still as its feverish agitator made horrible excited screeching noises from the other side, high pitched and warped. Something not of this world. Something deadly. Something hunting. Something hungry.
Ruaidri had no idea what was happening around his fearful delusions. Uno had dragged him in front of the fireplace and was tamping out the fire as fast as he could, surely burning his feet in the process. Uno had only gotten the flames out most of the way before the both of them heard the tell-tale sign of wood creaking, warning them of its inability to hold the intruder off for a second longer.
Uno grabbed Ruaidri and without hesitation shoved him up the chimney flue. Ruaidri was bigger now than he once was, his knees pressed up into his chest and he got stuck there. The only light in the dark stone tomb came from the smallest crack in the stones where he could see just a blurry sliver of the main room of the inn.
Just as soon as Uno had pushed him up there, the door burst open in what sounded like a shower of splinters.
“Who are you?” Uno called out. Ruaidri could see a bit of Uno’s shoulder from the crack. Standing in front of the fireplace, illuminated by the little bit of dying fire and flickering embers that still glowed in the hearth. The thing didn’t answer. It simply walked forward. The sounds of long metal scraping across the floor told Ruaidri all he needed to know.
It was back.
“I said who are you!? Speak your name!” Uno demanded, holding his ground and holding in his fear. Uno was not an unarmed man normally. But Ruaidri worried that his ever-trusty knife might have been left behind somewhere and not in the man’s pocket. Even if that weren’t so, one knife would not hold up against the might of a demon.
Where is he?
Ruaidri felt like he was going to black out, the sound of the beast’s horrible rasping affected Ruaidri’s vision like he was poisoned.
“He?” Uno spat back, ignoring the horrible warped sound emitted from the dark figure that stalked into the main area of the inn. It was hovering just out of range of the dying fire’s defending light. But Ruaidri could still see its huge white eyes, staring into Uno unblinkingly. “Lots come and go here. I don’t keep track of all of them.”
Red fox. Where is the red fox?
The world was spinning, Ruaidri fought off vomiting. I’m going to die here. It hunted me here. It never stopped hunting me.
“Oh, the kid.” Uno knew he couldn’t play dumb, the thing wavering and shifting in the shadows had met eyes with Ruaidri through the window. He couldn’t feign innocence, but he could bluff. “He ran out the kitchen window the second he saw you, don’t know which way he went.” Uno hooked a thumb into the kitchen, it swayed and seemed to disappear from Ruaidri’s small view.
Ruaidri heard horrible crashing, scurrying, and scratching around the kitchen, its hellish cacophony crashing into his already pounding head. Uno seemed to panic for a moment, looking around, trying to figure out what to do. Before he had taken a single step back to the flue where Ruaidri was slowly suffocating, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, the horrible oppressive presence poured back into the room, surrounding the ringtail, choking out the red embers of the hearth. The creature’s large wide eyes bore into Uno.
Liar.
The word echoed around the room and through Ruaidri’s skull as he was forced to watch the horrible creature jerk forward. He couldn’t make it out all that had occurred, the crevice was too small. But he saw all he needed to.
A flash of long black scythes.
Blood crashing across the carpet in a violent eruption.
And Wilt Uno falling over dead.
Chapter 3
Glass shattering… it always predated the fall. The sound of glass breaking had ripped Ruaidri from his sleep once more. He fell fast out of the chimney and into the hot smoldering ashes below. He scrambled out of the red coals burning his palms as he coughed black dust from his lungs.
Bothersome oul fella! I didn’t even oversleep today! Now he’s just being cruel for cruelty’s sake! Takin’ it easy on me, he says… wait… why was I…
Something was wrong. There was a flurry of commotion around him, his ears were ringing, but beyond the high pitched screech he was sure he had heard screaming.
“What are we supposed to do!?” It was Kali who was screaming, she was crying and yelling at Sculd in panic, the older man’s voice was tense and trying to speak calmly back to her. Hazina had briefly appeared in the hallway. The moment she saw the chaos, her face fell into a haunting nothingness and walked out the door to the inn without a word. Yaku stood next to Kali, he was staring down at the ground cursing under his breath, his face painted in an uncharacteristic shock.
“Uno?” Ruaidri wheezed, his eyes falling upon what Yaku was staring at. His mentor slumped upon the floor, cut stomach to throat, his blood soaking into the red carpet, the colors melding together in a crimson wash.
“Damn! Ruaidri, son, come here-” Sculd made a grab for Ruaidri, but he was faster. Ruaidri was a healer. This was his job. This is why he was allowed to stay at the Valer Madres in the first place.
“What the hell is he doing!?”
“Ruaidri! Stop!”
“Son! Get back over here-!”
The voices meant absolutely nothing to Ruaidri as he pushed Uno flat upon his back. He pressed his palms in the correct position to restart his mentor’s still heart. Ruaidri’s hands slipped through the deep gash, his hands no longer atop Uno’s chest, but pressed into the bone of his rib cage. There was more shouting around him, he didn’t listen. He had to focus. Many times emergencies have occurred in which he’s had to ignore hysterical loved ones. This is nothing new. It’s routine. It’s all going to be okay.
There was a horrible sickening snap. That’s normal. It’s normal to break ribs when doing chest compressions. It’s normal. Someone was approaching Ruaidri. More yelling, more screaming. He ignored it. He continued. He couldn’t see his own hands through the blood. It’s normal. I can do this. I can save him. A white furred hand was reaching for Ruaidri, shouting something that didn’t reach his ears.
Sculd was trying to pull Ruaidri off Uno before he could save his life. Ruaidri kept up his frantic attempts to keep Uno’s heart beating while evading the frantic hand groping for his shoulder.
“Son! Let go! Let go now!” Ruaidri didn’t look away. His hands were warm from the flesh around his fingers. I can do this. I can save him.
Every magic of the 15 disciplines had their quirks and caveats. Healing magic needed a calm caster and a still patient, otherwise the magic could fail. While blood magic was the most dangerous when it came to spell blowback, healing magic wasn’t much safer.
“Ruaidri!” Sculd barked, finally securing a strong grip upon his arm, it made Ruaidri panic. Panic was always the enemy of any healer, and devastating for healing magic.
Ruaidri hadn’t meant to cast that spell. He was hardly trained well enough to do it right in the best conditions, his execution was frantic and sloppy. Spells often contained overlaps within disciplines, this one was a healing spell, but it was also a lightning spell. The drawback of lightning magic was its tendency to go all out, a hard discipline to conduct in a controlled manner, often leading to damage done both to the castor and the target. It was considered one of the three destruction magics for a reason.
I didn’t mean to.
Ruaidri didn’t mean to burst out an uncontrolled electric blast so violent it sent Sculd flying backwards, convulsing upon the ground. The electricity created a circuit and circled back into Ruaidri arms and chest, forcing his muscles to contract and put far too much strength into his compression. He hadn’t meant to scorch the flesh black with the spell. He hadn’t meant to send a spray of blood erupting out like a shock wave from a horrible explosion. He hadn’t meant to break through Uno’s rib cage.
Ruaidri’s hand had curled around Uno’s still heart. It was already growing cold. Ruaidri looked his mentor in the face for the first time since the beast had ripped Ruaidri from his normal life and plunged him into yet another nightmare.
Dead.
Ruaidri ended up on the ground. His cheek stung and he was sent reeling by a horrible crack of pain across his face.
“Ruaidri, what are you doing!? Stop it!” Kali screamed down at Ruaidri in tears, her hand still raised from where she struck Ruaidri. A maddening, almost murderous, look overcame Yaku as he approached Ruaidri.
“What… did you… do?” Yaku whispered, a mix of horrified and furious. There was blood running down his face. It wasn’t his own. “What did you fucking do, you freak!? What did you do!?”
Ruaidri was suddenly forced to curl up into a terrified ball as Yaku’s anger didn’t end with just harsh words. Painful furious angry blows fell upon Ruaidri as the yelling and panic only grew, his own voice crying out into the cacophony.
“Enough! Yaku enough!” Sculd was much stronger than Yaku and pulled him off Ruaidri with ease.
“What kind of sick joke is this!? What did you do!?”
“Yaku, stop!” Sculd barked, Ruaidri didn’t move from his place on the floor. He was hyperventilating there, his heart pounding, pain erupting from all over. He couldn’t breathe no matter how harsh and fast he gasped for breath. “The boy’s in shock for crying out loud-“
“Shock!?” Yaku screamed, “That sick freak burst Uno’s chest open!”
I… what…?
“We hardly even have a body to bury now!”
No. Oh God no.
Ruaidri was ripped to his feet, the large calloused hands of Sculd clasped hard over his eyes, blinding and turning Ruaidri away when he tried to confirm the horror Yaku accused him of.
“All of you get out! Now!” Sculd’s authoritative voice commanded the three remaining in the room. Ruaidri was shoved out, Sculd’s hand didn’t come free from his eyes until he was out the door. There was no door to slam behind him, but Sculd pushed the remaining splintered wood up nonetheless to cover the scene left behind. Ruaidri had managed to catch a fraction of a second of his departed mentor’s remains. It was the first time Ruaidri had ever lost consciousness at the sight of an injury.
The river that flowed next to the inn was called the Great Divide. It was the old border that marked the east from the west back during the war. The boundary line that once flowed red with blood trickled peacefully now. It had been nearly fifty years since the country now known as Elgrai had united. Ruaidri’s mother always said she would marry the day the great divide ran clear, she didn’t dare hope for a peaceful life, much less a family, until the horrors of war were nothing more than a distant memory. If only she had known that there was no such thing as peace in this world, no matter the color of a river. Because with the rising sun streaking the sky with vibrant crimson, the water once more flowed red.
The three of them must have sat beside the river for hours. Or maybe it was only minutes. Ruaidri couldn’t tell. Yaku was quietly smoking a pipe on his right, his glare harsh as he stared at the calm waters. Kali was on Ruaidri’s other side, she was hugging her knees to her chest, not looking much better. None of them said a word.
Their silent vigil was disturbed by a voice calling them some time later, how much later, Ruaidri would never know. Time didn’t exist then, just a blurry ebb and flow of overwhelming emotion and alarming numbness. Ruaidri could have sworn he was still dreaming. The sun hadn’t peeked above the horizon yet, but light was returning to the sky. It wasn’t right for the world to keep turning, for morning to come when Uno was still…
“Hey, it’ll be okay, Ruaidri… Come on.” A soft voice called out to him, there in front of him was a hand offered to him. Ruaidri flinched back, instinctively sliding a few feet away from the beast-user in front of him.
It’s you. You did this. The thing that you are did this. Ruaidri would never dare say it out loud to Kali’s face, she probably would just kill him if he did. Despite not voicing his thoughts, his expression must have been telling.
“You don’t need to look at me like that, you know.” Kali whispered, retracting her hand. Hurt and that underlying simmering anger showcasing itself again in her brown eyes like a betrayal. “Like I’m some kind of monster.”
You are a monster. All of you beast-users are.
“Santa Ch’aska, Kali!” Yaku barked at her from over his shoulder, having already begun to walk away. “Would you quit wasting your time already? Let’s go.”
Kali said nothing more to Ruaidri and walked past him, leaving him sitting there upon the bank alone.
Ruaidri was walking somewhere, he didn’t remember standing. He couldn’t raise his gaze from the ground lest he lose his footing and never stand back up again.
Sculd had dirt and mud staining his hands and caked into the bottom of his dark robes. Three shovels were thrown to the side of a freshly dug rectangular hole, only one appeared to be used. This isn’t right. This is too soon. Far too soon.
“What took you so long?” Yaku muttered darkly at Sculd, staring at the freshly disturbed dirt in disdain. “Does it really take so long for the likes of you to move some dirt?”
“I was hoping I’d have some help.” Sculd responded gruffly. “Maybe next time lend a hand if you’re so impatient.”
“Grave digging is beneath me. Just be quicker next time.”
Stop saying next time.
Ruaidri had come up to the edge of the hole. The person in the grave was covered with a sheet. Ruaidri couldn’t see their face. It could have been anyone in there. Uno could be resting in his room, maybe this was someone else the beast had gotten to. Maybe it was someone else’s blood drying under his fingernails. Ruaidri tried hard to hold onto that belief, but there was a taunting whisper in his ear. You can’t save him either.
Sculd started speaking, then Kali, and eventually even Yaku had a few grumbled remarks to mutter out. Hazina, Uno’s closest friend, was still missing. The words didn’t reach Ruaidri. He simply stared at the sheet-wrapped ghost inside the fissure in the earth. This isn’t real. It’s too sudden. Too quick. There has to be some type of mistake.
Dirt began to fall back atop the sleeper in white. At some point Ruaidri’s hand was rotated and opened by Sculd’s. Sculd filled it with dark rich soil and red clay from the pile that sat unapologetic next to the grave. Sculd guided Ruaidri forward, and helped him drop his handful atop the corpse. Ruaidri, Yaku, and Kali stood quiet while Sculd took up arms again with his shovel and moved the dirt back to where it once was.
Soon there was no evidence anything had happened at all that night, beside the square of freshly disturbed earth that was bare of the green grass that had been growing fresh and vibrant for spring. A spring that the warm-loving soul would never get to see. With nothing left to say, they herded themselves back inside to face the violence left behind.
The innards of the loved and loathed bar were torn to pieces. The tables and chairs were split, splintered, and strewn across the floor. The black metal lanterns once hanging from the ceiling, snapped and felled. Scorch marks of the beast’s frightful blades etched and sliced into every wall and all over the floor. The furs from the couch were in tattered tufts, the banners and wall hangings slashed. The carpet in front of the fireplace bore its grisly blood stain like a shameful confession. The remaining evidence of Ruaidri’s great failure painted the area where Uno had once lain. There was blood on the ceiling.
I didn’t mean to.
Ruaidri stood among the carnage along with what felt like the last few people in the entire world. Surprising even himself, it was Ruaidri that moved first. He strode forward, righted a broken stool and slid it back to where it belonged at the bar. With that single action, everyone silently followed suit. Sculd started reeling back the broken lantern chains to assess the damage and draft an idea of how to mend it. Kali rolled up the stained carpet, ready to remove it and the sickening memory from the halls while Yaku began kicking the fractured furniture into a pile.
In their silent cleaning, no one stepped behind the bar. Ruaidri knew the reason. That was his job. With his head still full of pressure and as if he were walking through a hallucination, he stepped behind the bar he was pacing and ranting in just a few short hours ago.
Ruaidri stared at the mess, every single bottle of wine, gin, mead, and beer that adorned their shelves were shattered into dust on the ground. The glass sparkled in the fresh golden rays of light that were beginning to pass through the window. Just looking at it made his back ache, he found himself pawing at the permanent pink scar that still adorned his snout.
Don’t think about it. Keep moving.
Ruaidri swept the shards of glass into a pile while considering how he was going to soak up the pools of alcohol, the scent stinging his nose. He carefully moved the broken glass into an old spare crate, taking care to not hurt his fingers. Ruaidri moved the box outside so he didn’t have to look at the shards, not liking how it poked at his mind. He kept his head down while he did so, refusing to look at the freshly disturbed dirt just a few feet away.
“I’ll take whatever’s left… If there is anything left.” Ruaidri got so consumed by his thoughts and his work, he jumped at being addressed directly. Yaku was sitting in his normal spot, Kali and Sculd joined him at the bar after a moment’s hesitation. The inn wasn’t tidied up by a long shot, but better than it was a few hours ago, and they were all exhausted. Hazina was back, Ruaidri had no idea when she rejoined with them, or how long she had been silently cleaning alongside them.
Ruaidri turned to the barren shelves, there wasn’t anything left.
“Well-” Ruaidri’s voice came out hoarse and grave, it surprised him how dry his mouth was. Ruaidri coughed hard, realizing he must have inhaled a lot of soot from the chimney when he…
“Well.” Ruaidri tried again, getting his cough under control. “Probably not. Might have some white wine leftover in the kitchen, though.” Yaku shrugged noncommittally.
“If you can spare it.” Yaku spoke in an aloof tone, a lack of antagonistic venom was probably the closest the maned wolf would ever come to an apology.
“Why not?” Ruaidri said numbly and turned to check the kitchen, feeling himself kick something. It was hard and sharp, nestled just under the bar, his foot sending the object sliding to the middle of the floor. The motion hurt as he realized in a rush of irritation, and a deeper bubbling feeling that he tamped down quickly, he missed some glass and cut his foot.
Ruaidri ignored the pain and stooped down to pick up the large shard. It was white glass, the fractured front of a bottle, the label was still affixed.
Uno Mas Tequila
Ruaidri could have sworn he physically heard the sound of the dam built up in his chest explode. It sounded like the splintered shattering of a locked wooden door. Unable to hold back further, he clutched the jagged glass deep in his fist and cried.
Maybe one of the patrons tried to call out to him, if they did, Ruaidri didn’t hear it. Even if a voice had managed to surpass the screaming grief ripping through his heart, all he wanted was to draw himself further away. He didn’t want to face any of them. He wanted his mother. He wanted his village. He wanted his mentor. None of the four other patrons knew what to do, so they said nothing, letting Ruaidri turn his back on them and sob into his hands.
“What are we going to do now? I don’t have anywhere to go.” Kali’s soft voice asked, low so Ruaidri didn’t hear in the throes of his anguish. “I don’t think anyone would even let me stay if they found out that I-”
“We’ll figure it out, stupid girl, relax.” Yaku interrupted her, though he didn’t sound sure. “We’ve done it before. You can’t get rid of me so easily.” He tried to nudge her, forcing what appeared more grimace than reassuring smile.
“What about Ruaidri?” Hazina spoke softly, breaking her vow of silence. “Who’s going to take care of him?”
“What kind of question is that?” Yaku hissed, also trying to keep his voice low, but his rage beginning to betray him. “Welcome back, by the way. You missed the party. The kid had a melt-down and exploded the old man’s corpse while you were off doing Huari knows what!”
“Yaku,” Kali whimpered, her eyes screwing shut remembering the scene. “Please.”
“You like the kid well enough, don’t you?” Yaku continued after a pause. “And you already have… what? Three pups? You can afford one more. Hell, you should be inviting us all to stay in your village if you had any decency-!”
“None of you are permitted to come to my village!” Hazina snapped back at him suddenly, a warning growl in her throat. “That has always been my only ask of the likes of you. You know this.”
“Go figure.” Yaku scoffed, a bitter smile coming across his lips. “Act all buddy-buddy with the lot of us but when it comes down to it, can’t even spare a single night to keep us off the streets. What a joke.”
“Enough.” Sculd grunted, waving them off. “It is of no issue. I already planned on watching over the boy. The rest of you focus on finding yourself somewhere to-”
“No.” The four broke up from their hushed conversation, looking up to Ruaidri behind the bar. He was still standing with his back to them, clutching the remainder of Uno’s namesake. The beast had taken everything from him. It would not take this.
Ruaidri stormed out from behind the bar and up the stairs to his room. He threw the door open, and rooted through his few modest possessions for something specific. Something from his mother. Something that saved his life that night. Something that would save him now.
Ruaidri Red was not his real name. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, he was the barkeeper of the Valer Madres inn, barkeepers always take on the name of the very first drink they serve when taking on the mantle of his profession. He remembers the moment vividly; the night his mentor and former owner of the bar hid him in the chimney, left him with the parting words- “I’ll always be here.” And was slaughtered by a beast, never to wake.
Suddenly alone, with the horrified gaze of the entire inn bearing into him, the young patrons anxious to see what the orphaned red fox would do in the wake of his mentor’s murder. He didn’t have to think hard about it, he chose the only bottle that hadn’t been shattered to pieces- his mother’s red wine, brewed right in his home village. He lined the five chipped glasses they had left, and the few remaining patrons, knowing what was to come, waited patiently at its aged oaken surface.
The glasses were passed from hand to hand, until every patron held a small crystal of the well-loved poison. The young red fox lifted his glass, the name and identity he held previously disappearing into the night along with the blood thirsty beast that stole his mentor and mother’s only life. The inn took a swallow of the sharp sweetness as one, the master’s apprentice was gone, and Ruaidri Red was born.
The Valer Madres would not be abandoned. Ruaidri Red was going nowhere.
Ruaidri had been saving the wine for his 18th birthday. He knew his mother would be rather cross with him for drinking before coming of age, but he had already accepted that in order to right the wrongs committed against him, he was going to have to do some things she wouldn’t approve of.
Ruaidri felt something else fill his chest, it was a deep fire mixed with the warmth of the wine. It tasted of bush plums and chocolate at first, before the tart fruity flavor of mudberries cut through, and left the gentle spicy tingle of water ginger dancing on his tongue. It tasted like vengeance. It tasted like home.
“Ruaidri, are you sure?” Sculd leaned in. “This is a lot to take on-”
“I must.” Ruaidri insisted. Vicious determination overcame him in a way he hadn’t felt since his first night running from the village. The moment he had finished crying himself out and felt that fiery painful anger course through his veins. When he knew for sure, he was going to kill the beast.
Ruaidri took the final sip from his mug, feeling his head begin to swim. He could understand the appeal now, but it was making him feel unsteady, and most pressingly- exhausted.
“Kali,” Ruaidri leaned on the bar, feeling the weariness from the evening along with the wine calling him to drop. “Did you get what you needed? For the job?”
“The job? Why do you ask?”
“Because we’re going tonight.” Maybe it was the rage coursing through his veins, or the wine dulling his fear, but he suddenly wasn’t afraid of leaving the inn with Kali by his side. Kali quickly drained the rest of her cup.
“I mean, well… I don’t know Ruaidri. I think this is… this job… I think it’s too soon, don’t you? You should rest-“
“Kali, please.” Ruaidri met her eyes, desperation coursing through him. “I’m ready.”
“Ruaidri….” Kali said seriously, before a small sad smile tugged at her lips, “I guess it’s Ruaidri Red, now, huh?” She corrected and Ruaidri felt his chest ache from the acknowledgement. Wilt Uno was really gone.
“The person we’d be after is at Airigod castle but… the noble that owns that castle is a beast-user.” Kali finished almost shamefully and Ruaidri felt the tell-tale tingle of dread dance across the back of his neck again. He gritted his teeth, refusing to be moved.
“I’m ready.” Ruaidri repeated, a hand coming up to his neck to keep his fur down. “I’ve never been more ready.”
Kali still looked apprehensive, she opened and closed her mouth a few times, as though she wanted to tell him something. There was something about the way her eyes flickered to the hand keeping down his fur that seemed to spur on a change behind her eyes, as if there was something in his gesture that caused her expression to grow dark. Kali drew a breath and nodded in confirmation, that odd graveness lingering.
“Fine. Tonight.”
When Ruaidri woke, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Their destination wasn’t far off, only a few hours north to Airigod, a small, but highly noble town. The town was the old capital of the east before the great unification. Ruaidri made up some provisions to take with him, medical supplies, just in case. Kali said she had the beast-user’s schedule carefully memorized, and they would not run into her. All the same, Ruaidri wasn’t about to take a chance like that unprepared.
When they met up at the door, Kali’s brown eyes were flickering with wavering white, like candle-light in the wind. The parasite beast was clearly frothing at the mouth, pacing around in its tiger-shaped prison. The little horror excited to spread its legs, rear its head, and taste blood. He pretended not to notice it moving behind her eyes, and pretended to not be deeply afraid.
Hazina was still awake and she brought the reins of their horses to the two of them as they exited the inn. Kali gave the midnight black Eshika a firm kiss on her nose and scratched her head lovingly, Ruaidri simply took a second to take in Brighid’s bold beauty.
Brighid was standing tall and proud, black mane shining in the last wisps of daylight. Ruaidri ran his fingers over her hand-made bridle and gave it a few experimental tugs in various spots. He was sure he made it properly to Sculd’s instruction, but a glimmer of worry burrowed into his mind as he went around testing the clasps and stitching.
“It’ll hold just fine” Hazina stopped Ruaidri’s hands. “You did good.”
“And… you’re sure she’s ready? I won’t strain her? because I can take Zori-“
“Ruaidri Red.” Hazina crossed her arms over her chest, and bequeathed him with the same advice she had given him time and time again over the years. “Don’t think about it so much.”
“I just don’t want to mess this up.” Ruaidri whispered, Hazina waved him off with the aloof confidence he had come to expect from her.
“Your girl’s ready for you. Are you ready to be her rider?” Ruaidri took a deep breath.
“Ready.”
“Well?”
Ruaidri moved to Brighid’s left side, trailing his hand down her neck as he walked. He slotted his boot into the stirrup and hopped up on her back, not sure what to expect. She wasn’t easily spooked, she was a steady girl, but she also had very strong opinions. Brighid would make Ruaidri aware very quickly if something was not to her liking. She adjusted her feet and shook her head casually while he rubbed her neck. She deemed it acceptable and into the mud he would not go.
“Good girl, Brighid.” Ruaidri praised her and Hazina nodded in approval.
“What did I tell you? She’ll be just fine and you’ll be plenty decent too, just keep your head about you.”
“Thanks ‘Zina.” Ruaidri said in response to the statement, but he meant it for everything. The first few years at the Valer Madres were hard, he would find himself staring off for hours, crying or sitting numb as the reality of his village crashed over him time and time again. Hazina, she always managed to find him and drag him off to the stables for one thing or another. To keep busy, to stay distracted, to not think about it. She had never mentioned his family once, but silently showed him how to keep moving despite it all. How to stop thinking about it. He was grateful to her for that, and pressed the events of the day out of his mind.
“Shall we?” Kali said from atop Eshika, ready to go.
“Right. See ye soon, ‘Zina. We’ll be careful.” Ruaidri promised.
“I imagine you better.” Hazina responded, almost in warning. With a small flicker of anxiety beginning to catch in Ruaidri’s chest, he urged Brighid forward before the itch became an ache.
“Ruaidri, are you armed?” Kali asked as their horses picked up the pace, racing onward towards their goal. He sat up straighter in Brighid’s saddle, and tapped his hip where the thick leather strap he had fashioned into a belt was notched on his waist. Hanging from his left hip settled in a reddish copper scabbard was his prized possession- a valiant sword Ruaidri called Ceartas.
During Ruaidri’s first few months at the Valer Madres, just when he was starting to find his footing in his routine, Uno had told him they were traveling to Grimmsgarde, the capital. A two day journey out east. Uno had drafted a letter to the queen about the status of the Red Fox Village and she had summoned Uno and Ruaidri at once.
Ruaidri was astounded and intimidated by the sheer size and population of Grimmsgarde, he had heard it was huge by his mothers tales, but it still hadn’t prepared him for the liveliness and diversity of the people. Uno found some Solian sellers to chat up and direct him to a place that served “proper food” as he called it.
What Uno bought Ruaidri was an interesting meal the younger one had never tried before. It was some kind of savory dough made of corn surrounding a filling of chicken, an unfamiliar blend of rich tomato sauce, and a few thin slices of creamy goat cheese, the whole thing wrapped in a corn husk. Uno practically choked on his food when Ruaidri chomped into the corn husk wrapping. How was Ruaidri supposed to know that wasn’t the edible part? After Uno stopped laughing at him, he instructed Ruaidri how to eat it properly, using the husk to hold it steady.
To Ruaidri, it was absolutely delicious, to Uno, not as good as his abulita’s, or any proper Soli food for that matter. Grimmsgarde food was diverse, but they never got it perfect, according to him.
“It’s the chilies, Rojito.” Uno said, both of them sitting in the shade of the large palace walls. “It needs green chilies or it’s hardly even Soli!”
“I like it.”
“Ay, well, that’s because you don’t know better.”
“Can I eat yours?”
“Ni madres.” Uno said and swatted Ruaidri’s hand away. “Eat the husk if you’re still hungry.”
Uno didn’t seem very impressed by the large stone palace they were escorted into. Very unlike Ruaidri, whose eyes were the size of the sun. Uno ended up needing to hold the back of Ruaidri’s collar as they went along, as Ruaidri had slipped away pretty quickly. Uno found him staring up at a large painted portrait of the White Knight, the hero holding his helmet under his arm, sitting atop his gallant steed. Uno was quite furious with him until he noticed what the boy was looking at. Uno gazed upon the painting in surprise before shaking his head and scoffing.
“…Oh, that bastard.” Uno muttered, grabbed Ruaidri’s arm, and began chastising him for wandering.
“He’s no bastard!” Ruaidri shouted, being tugged away by his mentor. “He’s a hero!”
“Seems like a heroic pain in the ass to me.”
Ruaidri held tight onto Uno’s arm as they entered the grand throne room, an imposing space with royal purple banners hanging from the ceiling. The banners bore the insignia of Elgrai, a bold white circle representing the united lands of Elphor and Graion, with a curved split in the middle of the circle, representing the great divide river.
It took a deadly plague known as the wasting to rip through the land for the two kingdoms to come to a compromise. Both countries’ rulers forced to acknowledge that if the war continued and they refused to share resources, all of the land today now known as Elgrai would extinct itself.
Ruaidri was nudged by Uno to kneel before the queen, just like the knights in the stories. He was astounded by the majesty of Queen Bakari, a noble, powerful, and kind lioness. She asked about the contents of Uno’s letter, hoping there was some kind of mistake.
Uno rose to his feet, bringing Ruaidri with him. He spoke of what Hazina had seen and what Ruaidri had experienced. The fox was grateful he didn’t have to say those gruesome words himself. Ruaidri simply clung to Uno’s side and gazed at the ground, his mind wandering beyond these walls to the lake by his village. It’s a hot day, it’d be very nice t’go swimming again…
“Ruaidri.” Uno nudged him, breaking him from his pleasant thoughts.
“What?” Uno nodded towards the queen, slightly impatient. She, however, gazed upon him with compassion.
“Is that all true, Ruaidri?” Queen Bakari repeated her question, graciously.
“Aye.” Ruaidri mumbled.
“Speak up, be polite.” Uno nudged Ruaidri out of his side, to stand taller.
“Aye- Yes… Your highness.” Ruaidri stuttered, shuffling his feet.
“You poor thing.” The Queen placed a hand over her heart in understanding. “I am so sorry for your loss, my dear Ruaidri. I will stop at nothing until the perpetrator of such an abhorrent deed is brought before the royal court to atone for this grievous crime.” She sat up straighter, speaking directly to one of the guards in the room, her voice edged with stone.
“Gather the council. I am to make a decree tonight, tell them there will be a hunt for this monster, make it clear to all who participate that whomever brings the fiend to justice will be knighted and given a position within the knight’s pride.”
Ruaidri perked at this information. The knight’s pride. The group of highly esteemed knights hand-picked by the queen herself. It was a group started by the White Knight; very few were ever considered to join such an elite band. There hadn’t been a decree to allow another to join that group since Ruaidri had been alive. To join the knight’s pride and follow in the footsteps of the White Knight… Ruaidri felt a shift in himself. That beast. He would be the one to kill it.
“Your highness,” A different voice cut in, a tall maned wolf in ornamented royal blue robes stepped forward from the queen’s right side where he had been standing silently. He carried a long wooden staff with a glowing glittering sapphire embedded in the end. “If I may, on behalf of the grand royal council of magicians, I would like to present a gift to the bereaved.” He bowed deeply and gracefully to her, she nodded.
“Of course, Amaru. Thank you.” Queen Bakari allowed. With a flourish of his large staff, a powdery blue puff of smoke filled his hand. Once the smoke cleared, he was holding a copper scabbard, the ornate hilt of an equally reddish sword slotted into its long shiny exterior. The man, now known as Amaru, strode forward and knelt in front of Ruaidri, presenting the sword to the boy. A sign from the Gods that this path was truly Ruaidri’s destiny.
“I, Amaru, head Elgrai court magician, present to you, Ruaidri, a sword forged in remembrance and honor of the Red Fox Village.”
Ruaidri was so shocked at the exquisite gift. It was something he never thought he’d ever lay his eyes on in his life, let alone own. He was frozen speechless.
“It’s not a magic sword, Rojito. It’s not going to jump into your hands.” Uno jested, giving him another nudge forward, for Ruaidri to shyly accept the exceptional weapon.
“Rojito?” Amaru looked up, chuckling. Ruaidri had taken the blade, which was heavier than he expected it to be, and stumbled under its weight. “I like that, very fitting for you.” He gave the young fox a fond wink, standing up straight and noble once the sword had left his hands.
“You’ll take good care of it, won’t you, Rojito?” Ruaidri clutched the sword to his chest, and nodded vigorously, Amaru’s smile shone bright and comforting. As Amaru returned to the side of the queen, Uno leaned down and whispered something so incomprehensible in his ear, to this day Ruaidri couldn’t believe it.
“That’s Yaku’s brother.”
As if the exceptional, noble, and generous Amaru grew up with the biting, rude, sarcastic Yaku. Ruaidri couldn’t believe it, but after Uno mentioned it, he could see a very clean resemblance in face, Lunarian-Grimmsgarde accent, and green eyes. But Amaru’s elegant posture, kind resting expression, and light nonjudgmental eyes set him far apart and above the slouchy, bitter, instigating Yaku.
The two were invited to the following banquet to honor the Red Fox Village, Ruaidri had never seen so much food in his life. Uno and Amaru spent most the evening reminiscing about southern life and drinking citrus beer. The head of the royal guard sat next to Ruaidri; she was a tall fox, half Red and half Arctic named Hilde. She was mostly snow white, with a small mask of red around her eyes. She taught him the basics of sword fighting stances and how to parry properly. She even regaled him with stories he had never heard before about the White Knight. It comforted him to be in her presence, it gave him hope that despite the tragedy, red foxes still existed in this world, and like her, he’d get to see himself grow up into something exceptional.
“We’re here, pull back.” Kali broke Ruaidri from his happier memories, the hours passed in a blur of dark greenery speeding past him. It was pitch black out now, the only way he could see Kali was the small amount of bright orange fur on her hands and around her eyes, her dark armor and black horse disappearing into the surrounding dimness.
The castle walls they approached were not as large or ornamented as the capital palace’s were, but they were historic and strong. Lacking in the shining dazzle and bright opulence, but making up for it with a powerful quiet dignity that appeared intimidating and distinguished as though it hadn’t forgotten how it felt to be king.
“This is it.” Kali said, lingering at the edge of the grand moat that led up to Airigod castle. “Go and get em’!”
“Right!” Ruaidri nodded and didn’t move.
“Well… are you going to-“
“Of course!” Ruaidri said, taking a small hop back from her gaze. “I just… I don’t… I don’t exactly know what to do.”
The admittance was rather embarrassing, but it was the truth. Does he just waltz right into the castle with his sword out? Does he sneak in and corner the man? How does a bounty hunter go about doing this? None of his teachers were actually bounty hunters.
“Aw, don’t be scared Ruaidri!” Kali laughed at him, it made him feel even more dejected. I’m not scared! I-I think… “Look, I chose a super easy one for you!” Ouch. “The guards here don’t know they have a traitor in their mists, and they don’t want a traitor! So, just go up to the guards and tell them all you know. They’ll help you out since you’re still so young, you won’t even have to fight!” Ouch again.
The man Ruaidri was here to drag back to the Valer Madres was called Alister Lias. A weasel thief pretending to be staff at the castle, waiting for the right moment to clear them out of their riches. This thief had been hitting quite a few castles and high ranking families over the past few months, according to Kali. Thieves. Shameless.
“Right… Right! That makes sense! We’re all on the same side!” Ruaidri nodded. “But… what are you going to do?”
“Hm? Me? I don’t have anything to do! This is all you!” Kali grinned brightly.
“Well, then… why are you here?”
“Oh, Sculd wanted me to keep an eye on you!”
“Wh- What!? I don’t need a bleedin’ chaperone!” Ruaidri didn’t appreciate the timing of his voice cracking, it made Kali laugh at him again.
“Aw, that’s cute! Okay now, go on!”
Ruaidri wanted to shoot her an angry look, but he didn’t want to set her off. Her condescending giggling only hid a deadly monster on a hair-trigger. Ruaidri turned and silently fumed up the moat, out of her sights. I don’t NEED someone t’watch after me! I’m grown! I can do this just fine on me own! I’m a bounty hunter! A future knight of the knights pride! A hero! And one of these days I’ll be far away from the likes of aristocratic magician jerks, overbearing oul men, and beast-users like you lot! You’ll see!
“Halt! Step no further, stranger. State yer name and purpose.” Ruaidri was stopped by two armored pine martens in the off-white cream of Airigod castle, their spears crossed to block his path to the castle. Ruaidri banished his fury and held himself with pride.
“My name is Ruaidri Red Ó hÍcidhe and I-“
“Hey, yer Redd aren’t you?” The one of the left, who was a bit taller said, interrupting him. “Ah can tell by the accent!”
“Uh-… yeah, I’m Redd,” Ruaidri said, not all red foxes hailed from his village, but the ones that were, spoke Redd. “But, I’m here because-“
“A Redd red fox that call himself Red! Ain’t that somethin’, Luden?” The taller one laughed to the shorter.
“Aye, it is, Aymer! Think he’s here for education? To be more well read?” The shorter, Luden, cracked, sending the two martens into stitches, their laughter making Ruaidri’s shoulders heat up.
“I’m here to-“
“By the looks of he, ah reckon he’s a beggar! In need of a loan, now that he’s in the red!” Aymer crowed, more laughter following.
“Comin’ all the way here for a loan? Ah call that a red flag!”
“Like he’s gotta choice, hardly able to get anything from the capital these days with all that red tape!” Their stupid jokes were grinding on Ruaidri’s nerves, humiliation biting at his throat as these older guards mocked him.
“Why lookie here at em’, Aymer! Looks like our friend is seein’ red!”
“Maybe he’s just tense, he does look on red alert!”
“Ye know, we could all stand t’calm down ah think. Ahm thinkin’ Ah’ll take the next night off and go out sailin’ on the river, ye know what they say, red at night-“
“There’s a bleedin traitor in yer mists and I am the bleedin’ bounty hunter whose t’take em’ t’justice!” Ruaidri burst out, yelling at the two guards laughing in his face, who sobered up quickly upon his revelation. “If ye want that blasted scum bleedin’ ye and the likes of yer master dry then go right ahead! But it’ll be yer necks in the noose fer lettin’ it happen!”
With embarrassment still clinging onto his back, Ruaidri turned and began stomping back across the moat, cursing under his breath, his neck fur spiked out in irritation.
“Hold on, hold on, laddie! We was just teasin’!” A hand came onto his shoulder, pausing him and spinning him around.
“No need t’let yer face get all-” Luden’s jab was knocked back from Aymer, who elbowed him in the stomach, as it seemed he cared a decent bit about his neck.
“A bounty hunter! Forgive us, ye just look a wee bit young’s all, laddie! Nothin’ to be ashamed of! Nothin’ at all! Better lookin’ young when yer old than old when yer young, I always say! Come on, then! If ye got information, we’d be pleased to assist!” Aymer shot Luden a harsh look through a gritted smile. “Mistress Sìleas would be mighty displeased if we weren’t doin’ our duties.”
The terrifying beast-user and noblewoman Sìleas Macbeathag and her younger sister, the magically inclined Una, were the two nobles and masters of this castle. The very mention of her name seemed to sober up the jovial Luden, despite his wants to wind Ruaidri up further.
“Aye, of course! Come on then, what did you say yer name was again?”
“Me name is Ruaidri Red Ó hÍcidhe, and ye best not go forgettin’ it!”
Ruaidri’s proud confidence returned to him as he told of all he knew of Alistor Lias. The guards didn’t know of him, or any weasel recently allowed on the guard. Luden stayed and prodded for information while Aymer was sent to get the head guard of the palace. The head guard was similarly clueless, and mentioned not remembering any new castle staff being hired in a while. She sent for her second in command to assist, as he was the one who screened and hired new hands.
Before Ruaidri knew it, the entire Airigod guard, several hand-maids, servants, and the remaining cooking staff of the evening had all gathered there on the moat to try and decipher this mystery. Ruaidri was growing more and more confused himself.
Something was wrong, and it was starting to cause a churning of anxiety in Ruaidri’s chest. The name Alister Lias was not in any registry in their records, they had no weasels on rotation currently, and they hadn’t hired any new hands in close to twelve years. The guards asked Ruaidri for his wanted poster, hoping someone gathered there would be able to recognize the face, but he realized in that moment, he didn’t have one.
Out of the current thirteen faces hanging on the wall, Allister Lias was not among them. This was simply information he had gotten word of mouth from Kali, but without a poster, he doubted the guard would accept a prisoner, or have any reason to pay a bounty.
“Shite-!” Ruaidri hissed when movement from above him caught his eye. There scaling the stone castle was a large figure dressed entirely in black, orange striped tail waving in the breeze.
“What was that, laddie?” Luden asked, turning to follow where Ruaidri’s eyes had wandered.
“Nothing! Actually! I know what happened!” Ruaidri practically jumped out of his skin, yelling. He drew the attention of the crowd that had gathered, worriedly mumbling among themselves. Shite shite shite I’m pure bleedin’ dead with this one!
“Well?” The head of the guard, a battle-scarred serval of many years of service clear in the lines of her forehead. “What is it?”
“I… my s-source uh… Well… I remember now!” Ruaidri stuttered and felt his neck fur stand on end. “I had gotten it all twisted up! My source said… NOT Airigod castle! I uh-“
“Are you saying you summoned my entire guard, halted important palace operations, and frightened my workers over nothing?” The head guard had stalked up to him, her gray eyes burning in a terrifying anger.
“I- I- well- It was a-“
“What did you say your name was?” Oh shite.
“I-I- should go-“
“He called himself Ruaidri Red Ó hÍcidhe!” Aymer called out, suddenly not so friendly, tapping his temple. “Didn’t forget it.” Oh, come ON!
“Ruaidri Red Ó hÍcidhe.” The head guard growled, snapping her fingers. A young mongoose ran up to her side, parchment at the ready with a quill dribbling ink. “Make a note of that name. Just In case anything funny happens around here and we need to drag someone in for questioning. I’ve got my eye on you, Ruaidri Red.” Oh, just grand.
“Uh- uh, yes- well… of course!” Ruaidri’s heart dropped in his chest. Not a single day into his bounty hunting career, and he was already on some kind of list.
“All of you, back to work!” The serval snapped at the gathered crowd. “You will finish all your duties before returning to your quarters! You can thank this fool for that!” The entire crowd shot him vicious angry looks, a few spitting in his direction as their work was now set to run late into the evening.
“I’m sorry! Really, I didn’t-!”
“Best clear out.” Luden glared at him, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. “I guess mister A Lias was nothing more than a red herring.”
A Lias? Kali, ye damn liar! Yer gonna get me arrested!
Ruaidri made himself scarce, quickly rushing off back to where Kali and he had parted. There, out of sights of the guard, was a clear spot under the moat where several knives were sunk into the stone, creating hand-holds for someone to creep along the underside of the drawbridge completely unnoticed. With someone providing ample distraction, a thief could easily scale through a window right under their noses. Damn beast-user used me! I knew she was trouble! I shouldn’t have trusted her!
Ruaidri had no plans for what he was trying to do, only knowing that if there was anything found missing from the castle, it was Ruaidri who would be suspected first. He knew the moment his hand gripped the first hilt on the underside of the drawbridge that he was in over his head, but his reputation was on the line. If Kali took so much as a single gold piece, he could kiss the knight’s pride goodbye.
Ruaidri skirted around the castle quickly and quietly, though with his heart pounding in his chest so loudly, he was sure the guards would be upon him at any moment. He rounded corners, crept up stairs, and wove through the maze of gray that all looked exactly the same to Ruaidri. When I find that damn beast-user I’m gonna give her a real decent piece of my mind-
“Ah-!” A hand came over Ruaidri’s mouth as he shrieked out, feeling a part of his soul leaving his body. Ruaidri flailed back and away from whomever grabbed him from behind.
“Ruaidri, shush!” The dark figure behind him spoke, brown eyes glowing a haunting pearl white. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?!” Ruaidri balked, his heart still pounding from the mounting nerves and fear in his stomach, now growing hot with anger at the tiger in front of him. “What are you doing here!?”
“I’m on a job.” Kali said as if she couldn’t see the problem. “Yaku hired me to steal a grimoire for him.” Oh grand, we’re here for HIM? As if this couldn’t get any more humiliating!
“You used me! You- you- you set me up!”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Kali sniffed, as if it meant nothing at all. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”
“Are you kidding!? They took me name down! They know I’ve been here, if ye steal anything it’s gonna come back at me!” Ruaidri shouted.
“So?” Kali muttered, pushing past him.
“So!? So!? I could get arrested! Or worse! Ye ever heard of a knight with a criminal record?! They’d never let me in the palace as a thief! You tricked me! You lied t’me!”
“So what if I lied?” Kali whirled back on him, taking a threatening step towards him that he quickly jumped back from. He knew better than to provoke a beast, but his betrayal burned stronger than his fear. “You’d never trust me even if I was honest!”
“And I had good bleedin’ reason not to!” Ruaidri snapped back, “All beast-users like you are the same! I was wrong t’trust ye just like Uno was wrong t’trust ye! And now he’s dead because of things like you!”
Ruaidri knew he shouldn’t have said that the moment it left his throat. In the silence that hung in the air, Kali had grown in size. Double, triple her normal height. Her features grew warped and dark as everything she was became twisted and turned void black. The only thing that remained was her eyes, of which were fully washed out of all color or iris, only a glowing white remaining. Her entire body turned into an ever-changing formless smoke, churning and shifting around him. This horrible transformation was a beast form. Hideous and terrifying as the creature reared its ugly head and showcased its true nature.
Ruaidri wasn’t sure when he collapsed to the ground, but there was no way for his legs to hold him up as he stared up at the horrible murderous thing.
Knew it, knew it. Told you so, told you so! Don’t you see, dear? How he hates you so, dear? Fair play to me, shall we feast then, dear?
Oh God, oh God… Ruaidri shook violently gazing up at the thing as it spoke in such a nauseating register.
You have been so unfair to me, dear. So long it’s been since you’ve fed me, dear. No loss, my dear, no loss at all.
Wait. Wait wait wait no please-
A loud sound cut through the air as whatever horrible concoction of beast and tiger loomed over Ruaidri. They were in the middle of a long hallway with no rooms to duck into, the joyous sound of girlish laughter rang out from beyond where the hallway turned a corner. The sound was growing closer.
Ruaidri opened his mouth to yell for help, but had his snout snapped shut as Kali rushed him. A long black vine-like tendril struck out from the smokey shifting thing that was her and her beast, wrapping around his muzzle, muting his plea. This is it, this is how I die.
Her body surrounded him like a snake coiling up a mouse, he couldn’t keep straight where any part of her began or ended. Her entire form was writhing black smoke. She gripped him nonetheless and sprang up, light as air, and huddled into the ceiling among the many hanging banners still embroidered with the insignia of old Elphor.
Multiple tendrils of pure black shot out from the strange wavering spectre that was her horrid beast form, they held onto the brick and banners, meshing the two of them into the corner where the wall met the ceiling. She held him still, no matter how he tried to struggle, he had no means of escape. He was a fly trapped in a web, ready to be consumed.
The voices had turned the corner and walked down the hall. They wore noble dresses and spoke in an accent reminiscent of old royalty. The two girls were wildcats, short in stature, dark brown with black stripes adorning their well groomed fur, with just a spot of white on their chests and muzzles. They held onto each other’s arm, the taller one appeared to be Kali’s age and the shorter Ruaidri’s. Talking and laughing happily among themselves. Ruaidri felt Kali’s horrid form vibrate, as if to point them out to him. He stopped struggling, and found himself managing a nod, understanding her signaling, or at least, assuming he did.
That was them. The duchesses that owned the castle, and one of them was a beast-user. As if I needed to be in deeper trouble with beasts than I am right now.
Kali and Ruaidri stayed clung up against the wall, expertly hidden behind a banner for what felt like an eternity as the girls walked and laughed with each other, they seemed so normal. Ruaidri held his breath until the two finally disappeared around the corner. Kali didn’t move and Ruaidri followed suit, remaining frozen where he was held. Despite his stiffness, he relaxed for a single second in relief, before he heard the one of the girls make a sound.
“Fuirich, fuirich, fuirich…”
Ruaidri didn’t know Airigodian, but he recalled a distant memory of the days when his mother had to travel far to assist in someone’s illness. A brown tabby similar to the noblewomen that had passed below would sweep into his home with a big gap-toothed grin and a shoulder bag full of sweets hidden until his mother walked out the door. The bright and goofy Ealasaid that would tell him funny stories in silly voices before bed. She spoke Common with him, but whenever he would run too far ahead of her when playing in Darkwood, she would sing out. “Fuirich, fuirich, fuirich, m’ulaidh!”
Fuirich… Wait.
They were turning around.
Ruaidri glanced up to Kali in alarm, hoping she took notice of their danger. Kali’s eyes were closed, she seemed to be locked in some sort of argument with her beast that Ruaidri could only hear one side of.
Come now, don’t you see it’s time dear? …. Foolish you are, dear. Foolish … You promised to care for me. For him. Do you want your beloved to starve? To die? … Perhaps you simply don’t care for him as much as you say. Perhaps you really are just selfish, dear …
Ruaidri wrestled an arm free of her grip, reached up, and frantically tapped the dark shifting tendril that was wrapped around his muzzle, he made aggressive eye-contact with her. Ruaidri hoped it was Kali he was looking at and not a hungry primal demon, though he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began. She made that same vibrating purring sound and he could have sworn he saw her cock her head. She seemed distrusting in his capacity to not scream. Ruaidri pleaded with his eyes, silently promising to keep quiet, hoping she sensed the urgency in his eyes. She must have, as he felt the black tendril loose and slip from his mouth.
“Coming back.” Ruaidri whispered as low as he possibly could. They were hidden fine from the original direction the two walked thanks to the banners hung from the ceiling, but If they rounded the corner coming the opposite direction, they were helplessly exposed with nowhere to hide.
The realization caused Kali to growl in frustration, Ruaidri worried she might just squeeze him till he pops right there. She was a thief and one that was quite proud of the fact she’s never been caught before. I guess both of us can kiss our reputations goodbye tonight.
“Ruaidri.” It… she…? Kali? Something spoke out from that dark mass. His fur stood on end against his will, pressure built in his ears as if he were at the bottom of the Great Divide. “Look at me.”
Ruaidri met her eyes, those horrid white eyes, and immediately felt his head grow dizzy. His vision went blurry and dark, suddenly an image flashed in his mind. A green book with golden trim cut through the black for a moment, before his fuzzy vision snapped clear once again, and he could see.
“Wh- what-?”
“Library. The book. Get the book.” Not a request. A demand.
“Okay.” Ruaidri wheezed, fearing for his life if he were to refuse.
Kali dropped them both to the ground floor without a sound and flung Ruaidri down the hall, away from the direction the nobles were approaching. He flew through the air, and rolled when he hit the ground, astounded by her beastly strength. He stumbled to his feet, as he did so, Kali let out a terrifying piercing scream. The sound was a dreadful mix between a demonic wail and her own anguished cry. Kali charged around the corner to get the jump on the nobles, leaving him alone.
Ruaidri sprinted down the hall he was thrown into as horrified screams erupted from behind him, the sounds of combat filling the previously dead silent air. Gruesome demonic screeching echoed off the stone walls.
Ruaidri practically ran headfirst into the large elegant polished wooden doors that he hoped led to the library. As he fumbled for the doorknob, an odd thought grew in his mind. Is… Kali going t’be okay?
Ruaidri closed the giant doors behind him as silently as possible, luckily, it was indeed the library. He just needed to find that book. As he looked around at the gigantic towering dark wooden shelves, the idea of him needing to run away, leaving both Eshika and the corpse of Kali behind, was beginning to creep to the forefront of his mind. Another life taken by the creatures that stalk his nightmares. It doesn’t matter! Stop thinking like that! What’s one less beast-user in the world, anyway? Just find the book and get out of there.
Ruaidri ran through the shelves, occasionally spotting a green book here or there, but never with gold etched into the binding. He crept between the shelves, looking everywhere as the occasional booming quake shook the library, shaking loose grit and dust from the old castle. Ruaidri simply prayed the large castle didn’t cave in on him. He’d hate to die, but he’d really hate to die doing a favor for Yaku.
Just as Ruaidri was about to start allowing panic to set it, he noticed gold. Specifically a heavy-looking door of wood and iron inlaid with gold. He approached it quickly, feeling a strong vibrating hum emanating from the door. Magic. It was an enchanted door. By the pattern the humming was pulsing at, the specific enchantment was locked for everyone besides whomever the caster trusted personally. Which most certainly didn’t include-
“Ruaidri.”
Ruaidri spun around, ears pinned back in fright, who he saw froze him to his core.
“Ealasaid?” Ruaidri breathed, it couldn’t be. She was standing before him in the noblewoman’s dress he saw earlier, he must not have recognized her from so high above. He never knew she was a noble.
“We thought you were dead.” Ealasaid whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she rushed forward to him. Ruaidri didn’t think about it and ran into her arms, hugging his former babysitter tightly.
“I’m… I’m alive… I’m okay.”
“For now.”
Ruaidri felt his blood run cold, as the warm grip that held him turned tight and full of claws, the gentle voice of Ealasaid no longer sounding like her own. He tried to break from her grip, but all he could do was pull his head back. He saw her face transform before his very eyes, she was not Ealasaid. Her face, stature, and ear-shape was morphed into something much different from the round, silly, teenager he loved as dear as a sister. How did this stranger know his connection to Ealasaid? How did this stranger know his name?
Now, all Ruaidri could wonder was if this was the beast-user Sìleas, using her beast’s ability of transmutation to appear as his old friend, or if she was Una, the talented magician younger sister who happened to know transformation magic.
“I know what yer after, cowardly pup.” The impostor hissed, her face far too close to his own, her claws digging into his arms. The stabbing pain in his arms increased in intensity by the second as though they were growing longer inside his biceps. His hands were trapped behind her back, he couldn’t reach his sword if he tried. “The same thing ahm after.”
“I don’t believe ye,” Ruaidri spoke out in a shaky voice, trying to think of something, anything. “I’m after the beast that killed me village… Doubt yer after the same.”
“Ahm after a beast too.” She spoke softly, sweetly, pressing her nose to his. If she wasn’t so close to murdering him, Ruaidri might have blushed. “Ah really like the one yer friend has. My sister has such a nice beast, dregs the likes of you and yer friend are too vulgar to own them.” That clued Ruaidri in that this was in fact Una MacBeathag, the younger sister. Though he wasn’t sure if she was a safer bet the more she spoke.
Should he scream? Should he call for Kali? Just moments ago he was trying to run from her, and now he needed her protection. Surely she noticed the second sister missing. Unless… Kali’s already…
“Using a majestic god-like being for petty thievery, how insulting.” Una spat, growing angrier while Ruaidri tried to prick his ears towards the door. He hoped for once to hear the sounds of a scuffle in the distance, anything to suggest Kali lives. “Ah deserve a beast. Ahm strong, Ahm capable, ah kin contain its power! Ah have trained my whole life to be the perfect host! And now here you are, on my sister’s commencement day, to try and steal it for yerself!” Her accusatory glare digging into him.
Her… what?
The one day a year a beast can be separated from its user, the commencement date. A Beast’s contract with its host lasts only one year, and after that the host can decide whether to keep it for another year or banish it. It’s a volatile day in which a third party can rip the Beast from the host by force, as their bond is weakest on their commencement day. Beast-users keep that date heavily secret. Otherwise, others seeking power or revenge would take advantage of that 24-hour window to kill the user, and either banish the beast or take it for themselves.
Oh, God above that’s today?
Una hesitated, perhaps picking up on the surprise in his eyes, before crashing back into fury.
“Don’t play dumb, you dirty peasant!” Una snarled and lunged forward in their close-locked dance. She bit Ruaidri’s ear, making him yelp. He felt something tear, it was a small tear, but it still hurt. His ears fell back flat against his head, hopefully out of reach of her teeth now dripping with his blood.
“You want Sìleas’s beast as much as ah want that shepherd girl’s.” Una seethed, before her eyes lit up in hunger. “And ah will get my wish. Ah may no’ get the parasite beast tonight, but Sìleas will kill that shepherd girl, and from there it’s only a few short years before it can be summoned again, and with my magic, ah will be a beast user.”
Magic…
“And you, red fox, for yer insult of trying to steal the beast from the house of MacBeathag- Death!” Una opened her mouth, she began growing more teeth in front of Ruaidri’s eyes. Her entire being absolutely buzzing with the magic she was inflicting upon herself. Her pupils were pinpricks, there was a gust of wind bursting from her body outward from the sheer power she was expelling. All of her teeth pointed themselves into needle-like fangs, rows and rows of white fresh shiny bone dug through her gums, creating four rows of sharpened fangs that no doubt were about to dig into his throat.
Ruaidri was not a powerful magic user by any means, still, his capability was something his mother was very glad for, as she was a mar, and couldn’t cast a healer’s most important spell. The first one he ever learned.
His hand shot up and he touched his fingertips to the back of her head.
“Codail!”
Una’s eyes flashed in surprise as Ruaidri felt the spark of energy erupt from his fingertips into her skull. She made a desperate attempt to clamp her horrific maw into his jugular, but she only got as far as touching her first set of stalactite-like fangs to his skin. Una was unable to expend the energy needed to even puncture the flesh before her eyes crashed close and her body slumped in his arms. Sleeping spell. Not the most powerful, but very handy still.
Ruaidri dropped Una to the floor, he gasped out in pain as her claws exited from his arms. Doing so proved his earlier assumption- she was using magic to grow her claws deeper into his flesh. The removal of her sharp weapons from his arms caused blood to erupt from his wounds at an alarming rate. He fumbled for the jar of powered binding violets in his bag, struggling with his pained shakiness to unscrew the jar. He managed to dust the powder liberally onto his injury, the powder quickly coagulating with the blood and forming strong temporary scabs to staunch the blood flow. He covered the fresh scabs with a few wraps of gauze.
Feeling horribly sore, bloody, and as though his heart was ready to give out, Ruaidri forced himself to press on. Without taking much time to gather his thoughts, he grabbed Una’s limp hand and pressed her palm into the wood of the enchanted door. A small burst of orange light flashed outwards from the entrance and the magic dissipated.
Ruaidri stepped quickly into the small room, it was hardly large enough to turn around in, with a few ancient and important looking books lining the tight shelves. He didn’t need to look long to find it- green, leather, and inlaid with gold.
Ruaidri hovered his hand over it for a few seconds, sensing to see if there was any other magic traps bound to the book, but it appeared clean. He carefully slid the book out of its spot on the shelf and braced himself. Nothing happened.
What sort of book was Yaku paying for, anyway? Asshole’s guide to making friends? Ruaidri thought cynically and read the front cover, a prickling sense of dread rising up in his throat as he did so. It was a tome for beasts, packed with information on the horrible demons. Yaku’s after a beast? Or… is he after knowledge on how to obtain one?
Ruaidri’s churning thoughts were nauseating. Yaku appeared to be the type to seek power by any means necessary and striking a deal with a beast was the surest way forward. Ruaidri wouldn’t put it past him, and didn’t quite trust Yaku with the knowledge they were obtaining for him. A powerful magician with a beast seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Yet, with his life on the line, Ruaidri was in no position to decline bringing back the book. His hands were tied.
Ruaidri quickly stashed the book in his satchel. Despite his morals, he couldn’t help the small stroke of pride that danced through his chest. I did it… I did an actual job! It’s just… not the one I wanted to do… and now I’m in deep deep trouble with Airigod, and might be playing a hand in creating another beast-user… Oh, Christ alive.
Ruaidri ran out of the closet and pressed the door shut, he heard the magic rush back into the grain, locking behind him. That was fine by him, he had no want to pilfer anything other than what he was forced to.
Ruaidri gazed down upon the still duchess by his feet, In his daydreams of being a sword-wielding knight, he knew exactly how to handle the defeat of a dangerous enemy. Ruaidri would have unsheathed his sword and beheaded the passed out duchess on the floor in front of him. But in his current reality, he had almost completely forgotten about his sword, as he knelt by Una’s side and held his hand next to her nose to check if she was breathing. Using a sleeping spell required a level of control Ruaidri was not exhibiting in that panicked moment, and an uncontrolled burst of that type of magic to the brain could kill someone. His heart drummed in worry until he felt her gentle breath on his knuckles.
Ruaidri noticed all Una’s magical abilities had retracted. Her claws sliding back into their original size and her fresh grown fangs had retreated back into her gums. The process left large oozing wounds pouring blood into her mouth and pooling onto the floor. Ruaidri’s instincts took over, his mind lagging behind him as his adrenaline, instincts, and years of practice told him what to do. He dug into his pack and took out the large clumps of cotton he had packed earlier this evening. Taking care to compress them enough so she didn’t accidentally inhale the cotton nor choke on her own blood, he lined her mouth with the fluff, and shut her jaw carefully to hold it in place.
What am I bleedin’ doin’!?
Ruaidri shook himself. That was the enemy! He stood roughly, despite his anger toward his own stupid instincts, he still pressed his fingers to her nose one last time to check that she could breathe, lest she suffocate on a mouth full of cotton. Once satisfied, he began to run for the door.
What kind of knight am I!? Taking care of the enemy like that! What an idiot! I could have killed her- I SHOULD have killed her! Despite the mental berating, deep down the idea of killing someone after using a sleeping spell didn’t seem right. Beyond not right, it felt like Ruaidri was insulting the pain, sleepless nights, and endless dedication his mother’s steady and worn raw hands had committed to the profession of medicine. It was a healer’s spell, it just wouldn’t be right.
Once his capacity for magic was apparent, his mother spent far too much of her savings to buy a few hours a week for him to learn from a magician scholar in Foraoise. A twitchy but patient otter who had him practice the spell on various gourds. The first one he tried exploded. In which his teacher nodded gravely, covered in seeds and slimy pumpkin strings, cleaning her large round glasses on a dry patch of her shirt.
“And that is why we practice outside. And on vegetables.”
He couldn’t. Not with that one. Anyway, it’s cowardly to kill someone in their sleep… right? Yeah! Right! Ruaidri Red Ó hÍcidhe is no coward! No matter what everyone else says.
When Ruaidri exited the library, it was as if the castle was about to crumble to dust. Pillars were smashed, the rocky stone of the castle walls were bashed in, parts of the roof had caved in, and banners lay in tatters on the ground. Ruaidri ran back the way he came, hopping over the carnage and trying to ignore the copious amounts of blood that splashed and stained the ruins.
The staircase he had come from originally had completely caved in. Ruaidri recalled a small secondary staircase across a ballroom he had passed by earlier, and set out to find it. He followed his shaky memory of the castle’s layout, standing before what used to be a grand set of double-doors leading to an elegant ballroom. The doors were upon the ground in splinters. The vast room transformed into a bloodbath.
What once was a beautiful ballroom had been smashed, splintered, and destroyed. The pure power of the monstrous beasts at each other’s throats were undoubtedly to blame for reducing the room to rubble. The roof had crumbled to reveal the dark glittering sky, pouring bright eerie moonlight into the disgraced dance hall, casting its ghostly shine upon two pitch black creatures on either side of the room. The two beasts heaved and shook with exhaustion, weakness, and injury. They didn’t move, simply staring each other down, growling.
Kali’s beast form looked as he remembered, shifting and changing like smoke. The other beast was just as dark and eyes just as white, but her form was something stable. Something long, large, and swaying. It was shimmering in the moonlight, opening its mouth and hissing dreadfully towards Kali at the other end of the room, showing off two long fangs and a forked tongue. The sickening beast taking on the form of a dancing cobra. The glare beast. A beast who immediately swiveled its head in Ruaidri’s direction and pierced its gaze into him.
The moment their eyes locked, Ruaidri felt as though he was struck by lightning. He was rooted to the ground, his muscles tightened and locked in place. The pressure in the room was immense, his vision swam when he viewed the horrid snake. He tried to shake his head to clear the feeling but he couldn’t look away. Every time he tried to, his gaze was drawn back to the beast. His whole body shook and dipped under its own heaviness, weighing as much as the stone castle itself as his knees buckled from the heft.
The beast slowly slithered its large repulsive body towards him. Ruaidri knew this was exactly the distraction Kali needed to bail out and save herself. Ruaidri was alone.
Ruaidri was forced to maintain eye contact, his ears ringing louder as the beast drew nearer and nearer. His mind was screaming at him to run, but that voice got quieter and quieter as it approached. His mind filling up with warmth as he began to lose the feeling in his limbs.
He was back at the Valer Madres.
The warmth of the fireplace roared large and comforting as Uno built up the pyre far too large. Sculd chastised him for wasting wood while the ringtail argued heatedly about the several inches of snow on the ground outside. Hazina was home and hunkering down for the storm on the couch, she was playing a bamboo flute. Kali was bright and healthy, not a scar or bandage adorning her bright orange fur, as if she had never known the touch of a beast. She was dancing to Hazina’s melodic playing. Even the bitter Yaku, sprawled out on the couch next to Hazina, was pleasantly humming along.
There was something smooth and wooden in his hands, he lifted the old engraved fiddle that once belonged to his father to his shoulder. Ruaidri never knew him, his father was long gone before he was born. But his mother told him stories of the kind, gentle fox he took after in looks and character.
His mother was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, warming her hands. Her own red fur was the same vibrant crimson as he, radiant in the fireplace glow. Uno took a spot next to her complaining about his old friend. She laughed bright as a bell, agreeing with Uno that the fire was perfect for a cold day and Uno smugly asked the reclining Snow Beast in question if he’d dare argue with a lady. Sculd peacefully declined.
When Ruaidri sawed the bow across his instrument, he felt his village live and breathe again. His family was alive. They were safe. His mother and Uno were right here. Uno tapped his foot along and began chewing on a stick of cinnamon as his mother drew in a deep breath to join her beautiful voice to Ruaidri’s playing.
Before Ruaidri could hear a single note, the Valer Madres was a million miles away, as the horrible sensation of falling pitched his stomach. His little pocket of comfort ripped from his hands just as quick and fierce as a single slice of the beast’s bladed hands. Just like that, his loved ones were dead and cold in the ground again. Then there was that sound, grating against his ears, surrounding him, choking him.
Glass shattering.
Ruaidri was falling from the window again, broken glass twinkling around him like falling stars. Only this time, he was firmly grasped between the teeth of a beast.
A scream was ripped from Ruaidri’s throat the moment icy cold waters shocked and enveloped him. The moat of Airgiod castle providing a softer landing than the harsh ground, but just as miserable in sensation. Ruaidri fought against the jaws keeping him under the waters as panic overtook him. Luckily, the tar-black creature likewise needed to breathe, and lifted its head above the surface where Ruaidri managed to fearfully gasp in air. As he replenished his heaving lungs, there was a bone chilling screech from above, and a giant splash as something else joined Ruaidri and his captor in the moat.
Ruaidri held onto the beast, searching his hands into the shifting blackness for anything familiar. His captor hit the edge of the moat and climbed out, as it began to run he could get the faintest smell emanating from its fluctuating form.
Ruaidri caught the smokey aroma of rice beer, bright sandalwood, jasmine perfume, and a deep musk which he could identify as the thick lanolin that would leech off the fresh cut wool of sheep.
It was Kali. She hadn’t fled and left him alone for a reason Ruaidri could only attribute to him being in possession of the book. She must have burst through the window with him in her teeth. He couldn’t think of any person, or position to be in, he trusted less. Except maybe, inside the glare beast’s belly.
Kali galloped away as fast as she could, putting distance between them and the castle. The Glare beast was rising up from the water, and it was not going to let them go. They crashed across the empty paths of the late night into Darkwood, Sìleas and her Glare beast chased them as one, screeching and howling in the hunt. It was going to kill them both if he didn’t do something, Ruaidri felt as helpless as a mouse in the talons of a hawk, before reminding himself of a simple truth- he was armed.
Ceartas was still affixed to Ruaidri’s hip, on the other side of Kali’s massive jaws. Fear continued to flood through Ruaidri as he dug his hands into the morphing mutating blackness surrounding Kali’s sharpened maw, ever changing every second. It was an uncomfortable sensation, the shifting murky blackness felt like warm thick honey. His mind begged him to stop pushing into her, lest he merge with the beast and never find himself again. But he pushed, waiting, feeling for his hand to pass through her neck through to the other side where his hip lay. He felt his hand reach open air and he grasped the cold metal under his fingers.
“Let go!” Ruaidri called out to Kali, she shook her massive head and pressed on. He maneuvered himself in her teeth, gazing into one of her glowing eyes. “Kali!” He called her name. “Let go!” There was a shift behind the white glow, her warm red-brown flickered there for a second. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his neck, which betrayed him and his fear of her yet again. The brown disappeared, the pale whiteness taking claim of her once more, and she pressed on.
Ruaidri didn’t see any other options. He pulled his sword out through the inky mass of her neck, he heard a horrible wet slicing sound and Kali’s jaws dropped him as she roared out in pain.
Ruaidri rolled from the momentum when he hit the ground, and scrambled to his feet, adrenaline pounding in his ears. He pulled his hands back, the copper hilt of his sword blazed red in the moonlight. He tried to remember the few lessons Hilde taught him all that time ago after dinner, he felt his heart grow and ache. His chest was on fire as he clutched the weapon that represented the life and soul of everyone he had ever loved. His village may be gone, but the red foxes would never die.
Ruaidri took the glare beast by surprise, he did as the captain fox instructed him to do and parried the flash of fangs as they crashed towards him. With the screams of his family hammering in his ears, he plunged Ceartas into the eye of the beast before it could rise up for a secondary strike. The injury caused the beast to rip back in a horrifying recoil, screeching.
The beast writhed, howling in pain. Ruaidri felt Kali’s giant and provoking presence over his shoulders. He was panting and shaking, all three of them were. The Glare Beast shrank away, howling and hissing in warning, her eye screwed shut. Sìleas appeared to want to flee, Kali and Ruaidri didn’t move to chase her. A glare beast without its glare couldn’t cast its frightful hypnotism and wasn’t going to be killing anyone.
It continued to inch away and once enough ground was between them, it turned and slithered off back to Airgiod castle. Ruaidri watched it go, dazed and unbelieving the battle was truly over. The sound of muscles clicking and bones groaning back into place emanated from behind him. The hulking amorphous creature Kali had become receded, and she returned back to herself once more. Ruaidri turned to face her, a gasp ripped from his throat at what he saw.
Kali was collapsed on the ground, her hand around her throat, a deep gash pouring blood from under her fingers. Her eyes were back to their normal dark brown and brimming with hurt.
“Kali-!”
“Do you really hate me that much?”
Kali didn’t look at Ruaidri when she said it. She was torn up all over, scratched, scuffed, and sporting small but deep marks where she had been bitten repeatedly by the Glare beast and its aristocratic host. And then, there was the damage she sustained from her own beast. The dark blue lesions and tears in her flesh from morphing into that thing raked across her body, inflamed and bleeding. But that wound on her throat, that was Ruaidri’s doing.
“It wasn’t- I- I didn’t mean to-“
“Let’s just go.” Kali whispered, rising to her feet.
“B-but your neck! Kali, at least let me-“
“I lied to you, remember?” Kali spat over her shoulder, her tone sullied with guilt as she limped towards their horses. “Now we’re even.”
Ruaidri clutched Ceartas, gazing upon the blade still dripping red. He had always thought such a triumph would feel amazing. He had fought, actually fought, and lived. But all he felt deep in his heart was guilt. Ruaidri sincerely hoped this wasn’t what it felt like to be a hero. He didn’t feel like a hero.
It felt as though years had passed in the time it took to ride back to the Valer Madres. Ruaidri gave Brighid a hug around the neck, thanking and praising her for getting him home. She had done perfectly. He promised her the most special breakfast a horse could dream of as he and Kali put their companions into the stables for the night.
Ruaidri was expecting to walk into a dark and quiet inn, but was surprised to come into the bright light of lit lanterns freshly reforged and hung from the ceiling. There were still large rakes in the floorboards, most of the tables and chairs were gone, and the alcohol shelves still lie bare, but it didn’t seem to drive folk away.
There was a group of regulars sitting on the floor where the old seating was absent, laughing and hammering wooden pegs into a new table. Large stones and books propped under the now uneven bar stools that lined the bar were supporting idle talkers. A small cluster of six had formed in one corner, playing poker on the ground, using pebbles as betting chips. There was a young couple on the couch who lived nearby in Moorsglade as tailors, they were carefully stitching the torn tapestry woven of Elgrai that previously hung upon the wall. Upon Kali and Ruaidri entering into the light, all eyes and quiet murmuring had ceased, the crowd seemed shocked at the state they were in.
“Alright,” Sculd had risen from his chair by the fire. It appeared that Sculd’s first priority was to repair his grand wooden rocking chair that he sat in every evening to watch the fire in utter silence, as he was a boring man of boring habit. Sculd rested his hands on his hips, taking in the two of them with the same disappointed concern of a parent catching their child sneaking in after a reckless night. “What did you two do?”
Ruaidri and Kali were hardly given a chance to answer before he grabbed the two of them by the arm and forcibly sat them in front of the fireplace. Hazina hovered on the edge of the carpet, asking a lot of questions all the while eyeing the door as though she had somewhere to be. Ruaidri took the time while they were being grilled by the older two to subtly force treatment upon Kali, as she couldn’t outwardly refuse his care as overtly as she had back in Airigod. Sculd and Hazina were bound to take notice if she did.
“And that horrible mark! What happened for you to make such a close call?” Hazina had tilted Kali’s chin up, looking upon the wound with a grimace while Ruaidri pressed fresh cotton to the gash, Kali flinched away from his hands quietly. Of all the humiliation he had suffered tonight, that hurt his pride the most. He was a healer. He wasn’t supposed to be feared. “You’re not one to grow so careless, angel.”
This is it. Ruaidri thought, gritting his teeth and waiting for Kali to rat him out. He had worked so hard to keep up a good reputation. He was going to be a knight, a hero, but now everyone would only know him as the loose-cannon coward that attacks those closest to him. Ruaidri braced himself for the shame.
“It was Sìleas.” Kali said without hesitation, making Ruaidri pause in his careful wrapping. “She got the jump on me, I was… being careless.”
“Careless? You almost got yourself and the boy killed.” Sculd frowned at her, his criticism biting. “You promised you could handle this. I entrusted you with this responsibility, being careless is not an option!”
“I’m sorry.” Kali whispered, still choosing not to expose Ruaidri for the failure he had been. Ruaidri’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of any of this; she had no reason to cover for him like this.
“And don’t pretend this isn’t on you either, boy.” Sculd’s scolding broke through his thoughts next.
“Huh?”
“You let Kali ride all that way injured? She could have bled out along the way! You are a trained healer, what excuse do you have for such neglect?”
“I-” Ruaidri sat back from his work, he didn’t like lying, lying made him anxious. There was never a good reason to lie, at least, that’s what he thought until just now.
“I was also being careless.” Ruaidri blurted out the moment he heard Kali open her mouth to try and once again take blame. “I… I didn’t think it was so bad and I just… didn’t check.”
“You didn’t check?” Sculd huffed, clearly disappointed. “You realize her death would have been on your hands, don’t you boy?”
“Y-yes, I realize it now.” Ruaidri stuttered out, the heaviness of Sculd’s words adding pressure to his increasing stomachache. Kali was eyeing him quietly from next to him, she seemed confused. He met her eyes and hoped she understood what he was truly apologizing for. “I’m really sorry.”
“Me too.” Kali whispered back. Ruaidri was still sore about her pulling him into a theft against his will, as he was sure she was still just as angry with him for getting her caught, but there was a glimmer of camaraderie between the two of them then, if in just a small way. Sculd sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, still unimpressed with the two of them.
“Let it go, Sculd!” Hazina snorted at him, easily reclining against the wall. “So, they had some growing pains. Can’t learn without getting your hands dirty.”
“Can’t learn if you’re dead either.” Sculd pointed out, coldly. Hazina rolled her eyes, undeterred.
“And they’re not dead! So, let it go. They’ll know better for next time.” Next time?! I don’t think I want there to be a next time!
“So uh, kid… I mean, Red, right?” One of the regulars, a cheetah spoke up from his spot at the bar. Red? Did word get around already?
“Uh… yeah, right.” Ruaidri nodded, the regulars never did pay him much attention, unless they were about to mess with him or ask for a refill. “What can I do for ye?”
“We’re all real sorry to hear about Uno.”
“I- Well- What? Uh… right. Yeah, it’s alright.” Ruaidri was surprised, it wasn’t often anyone got too genuine around here. But everyone seemed to nod quietly in agreement. Uno was well beloved by all, that much was for certain, but for the rest of the regulars to care about how Ruaidri felt over it, it was a kind gesture. He never thought anyone around here gave him much thought.
“And thanks for keepin’ the bar open, kid! I’d hate to have to go to the capital for a pint!” Another called from the small group playing poker in the corner, the cheetah scolded him.
“His name is Red!” Me name’s actually Ruaidri, but…
“No bother, lads.” Ruaidri waved them off, forcing a smile. “Happy t’keep a good thing goin’.” For now at least, until I become a knight. Or get arrested. Whichever comes first. Christ.
Ruaidri’s anxious thoughts were disturbed by loud cursing.
“What did you do!?” Yaku had entered the inn smelling of tobacco smoke and pocketing a curved wooden pipe in his robes. “What happened to you!?” He demanded, gesturing to Kali.
“We’re back from your request, cop on.” Ruaidri mumbled in irritation. Some nerve this guy has.
“You weren’t suppose to kill yourself over it, stupid girl! You said it wouldn’t be a hard job!” Yaku ignored Ruaidri and yelled to Kali, who appeared equally exhausted.
“I didn’t think it would.” Kali sighed, forlorn. “We got unlucky.”
“The hell you mean unlucky?” Yaku snarled as Kali recounted their getting caught sneaking around by the sisters, whom by Kali’s accounts, should have been asleep.
“And then,” Kali continued, speaking low enough that only they three could hear, not wanting to spread the information further. “We got really unlucky. Tonight was Sìleas’s commencement date.”
“What?” Yaku was taken aback, his ice melting to make room for his genuine surprise. “You’re joking.” Kali shook her head.
“No, so she took my ambush as more than just thievery, she thought I was after her beast.”
“Oh great… Is she going to try and kill you for that?”
“She did try. Both o’ em did, t’both of us.” Ruaidri wanted to cross his arms, but his arms felt agonized from Una’s claws digging deep into his muscles, so he settled for just squinting at the maned wolf.
“I mean,” Yaku growled, glancing quickly at Ruaidri before turning back to Kali, his classic bitterness back. “Is she going to try and hunt you down now? She’s tried to get your beast for her sister before…” That was news to Ruaidri. Bad news. He didn’t want to see that nightmarish beast or her sister’s needle laden mouth ever again. Ah, what am I gettin’ meself into!? I just wanted to drag a petty thief to justice, not bleedin’ THIS!
“Who knows? Who cares?” Kali spat sourly. “Guess only time will tell…” Well, that’s right terrifying. Ruaidri felt bizarre for how bad he felt for her, he couldn’t imagine such a fright, well, no, he could actually. I know exactly how it feels to be hunted by a beast.
“I’m just really sorry.” Kali sighed, a deep score of self-criticality creeping into her tone.
“You’re alive, mina.” Yaku waved her off, sitting beside her on the floor. “Nothing to be sorry for but your own blood loss.”
“No, this wasn’t supposed to be so dangerous. I’m really sorry, Ruaidri Red.” Kali’s apology caught Ruaidri by surprise.
“O-Oh, no bother.”
“No,” Kali contested. “It’s a pretty big bother.”
“Well… I wanted to get some experience in…” In what exactly? “Ah, sure look, I-I knew something could go wrong, right? I’m grand.” He smiled at her to reassure her he wasn’t as banged up as he felt, feeling a bit of pressure to put on a brave face in front of all the patrons.
“All this,” Kali sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. “And we didn’t even get that stupid book.” Excuse me!?
“Yeah, I bleedin’ did!” Ruaidri objected, he practically risked everything for that stupid book, he definitely had it!
“You did!?” Kali’s head came up, eyes wide.
“I didn’t nearly get me throat stripped out by that bleedin’ cat for jack all!” Ruaidri shouted, insulted at the very idea he didn’t do his part when asked. Even if it was via threat. “Whatya think I was up doin’ that whole time? Standin’ on me head with a thumb up my-” He was grabbed by Kali very suddenly as she gave him a bone crushing hug. His arms hurt so badly. Don’t eat me, don’t eat me, PLEASE don’t eat me!
“Arre, Ruaidri! You’re so amazing!” Ruaidri maybe would have responded if his lungs weren’t being crunched into his bones. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Kali cried. Repay me by letting me go! And not eating me! Both is good! Let me go!!
“Yeah sure! Nothing to it!” Ruaidri barely managed to wheeze out, trying to be subtle in his struggling and fear. Yaku rolled his eyes, not seeming to think he deserved such a compliment.
“Well? Where is it, Huevón?”
“Up yours, didja check?” Ruaidri fired off at the mouth without thinking. All it took was Yaku’s fiery glare to give him the strength he needed to fully squirm out of Kali’s grasp to retrieve the book before Yaku backed up his mean look with a meaner left hook. Ruaidri knew his mother would have been extremely disappointed in the rudeness Yaku drew out of him.
Ruaidri found his shoulder bag, hoping their brief dive into the moat didn’t destroy it. He opened it up half expecting it to be gone, but no, there it was. Green and glittering gold.
As Ruaidri crossed to the maned wolf, his mind began to turn a bit. The evening with the beastly Sìleas, the hallucinations, the teeth, the destruction of the heavy stone castle, and the battering that Kali, a beast-user in her own right, received. How utterly terrified he was the entire time, that he only managed to get out of an early grave by the miracle of proximity, his mother’s sacrifice to ensure his knowledge of magic, and another beast-user. He always knew beasts were nothing to scoff at, but he was beginning to realize a harsh truth.
I can’t do this alone.
By the time he held the book out to Yaku, he had made up his mind.
“What are you playing at, Huevón?” Yaku growled when Ruaidri snatched the book away from his outstretched hands at the last second, clutching it to his chest.
“No, ye know what, Yaku? The cost don’t match the pay.”
“Are you holding out on what I paid for?” Yaku’s green eyes widened threateningly as he rose to his feet, smooth as a mounting wave and twice as intimidating. Ruaidri put a few steps of distance between them, but held his gaze.
“Ye paid Kali for an easy job! We nearly got killed!” Ruaidri accused, his back close to the fireplace. “You owe a bit more, or I throw the thing into the pit!” He threatened, holding the book close to the flames. A rare flash of fear appeared on Yaku’s face.
“Stop!” Yaku hissed, growing angrier, glaring at Ruaidri. “What is this?”
“Either pay proper or ye can’t have it.” Ruaidri stated firmly, trying to embody the sternness of his former mentor. If not for the fact he had loyal patrons in this bar that would protect him, he knew Yaku would have strangled him immediately. Ruaidri knew he had Sculd, Hazina, and several unwillingly sober patrons that were all in better graces with him than Yaku, even if they didn’t quite remember his name. The maned wolf knew it too, so he didn’t viciously lunge at Ruaidri, though the twitching in his tail signified how deeply he wanted to.
“How much?” Yaku growled, not breaking eye contact.
“I get a page.”
That threw him off. Ruaidri’s statement sent Yaku standing up straight in surprise, clearly confused. It made him look far longer in the throat, his prickly fluff at the back of his neck standing up, he almost looked unintimidating.
“A page?”
“Of the book.” Ruaidri clarified. “I get one.”
“Ah….” Yaku cocked his head, waiting for the catch. “Is… is that all?”
Oh, right, I got leverage.
Ruaidri glanced around the inn briefly, thinking about what else he could possibly extort out of Yaku, when his eyes fell upon Kali. She was tracing her fingers along the bandage at her neck, looking off in the distance, her expression somber. A pang of guilt hit Ruaidri, despite everything he said and did, she still saved his life. He had assumed it was for a selfish reason, for the book, but she didn’t even think he had it. She could have just sacrificed him to Sìleas and made a clean get away, hell, he was already in her mouth at one point! All she had to do was chomp down and he would have been dinner!
“And ye buy Kali’s drinks tonight- er, when we get drinks again.” Ruaidri settled, Yaku frowned at this, and Kali gasped happily. Kali bought all of Yaku’s drinks every single night, for what reason, Ruaidri didn’t know.
So, for just one night, you can treat her back.
“…Fine.” Yaku huffed, looking annoyed but no longer bursting with fury, while Kali called out to him all the expensive drinks she would request once they were back in stock.
Ruaidri opened the book, it was fully illustrated as he had hoped. He scanned the sections of the twelve known beast types for a familiar face and found it quickly. He saw it in his nightmares so often he was sure he’d recognize the creature sooner than his own face.
Ruaidri ripped the page from the book and handed the rest to Yaku who snatched it back before Ruaidri could tack on any other stipulations.
Storming back behind the bar, Ruaidri had climbed the empty shelves up to where the gallery of wanted posters hung idle on the wall. He reached for the highest nail in the very center and smashed the neat ink illustrated page onto the nail. Thanks to the page confirming the form he saw in his nightmares, he now knew its name.
The Double-Bladed Beast.
Dropping down to the floor, Ruaidri dug around under the counter for the box of keys, he heard the excited whispering of the entire inn converging around the bar. Ruaidri found the exact one he was looking for. With a seasoned expert aim, he slung the largest ornate key up to its resting spot where it caught the nail with a loud metallic ring, sending gasps around the room. Ruaidri hopped atop of the bar’s wooden surface, his blue eyes alight with vengeance. Ruaidri faced the astonished crowd, to give them one firm stipulation.
“And ye bring it to me alive.”