The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1)
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In the moments that followed, Jin's hypnotic eyes met Varg's and poured into his very soul. His mind felt weak and warped violently. His vision blurred and his thoughts twisted. Everything Jin was saying sounded like gospel. Varg knew what was happening, and he was determined not to allow Jin to control his thoughts. He searched through his violated mind in order to find some kind of memory or thought to cling to so that he may retain his true self, but all he could think of was reaching the Dawn. His thoughts fell to his friends, and how they could be at his side when Jin opened their hearts and led them to paradise. He saw grand visions of Conley, Oliva, Tain, and Erril standing in the light next to him. They smiled and praised the Serpent with open hearts and arms.

That was when Varg realized someone was missing. He tried to remember who it was, and soon the image of the woman with wine-colored hair that drove him wild appeared before him. Milea stared at him with fierce eyes, but didn't say a word. While the others praised and bowed before the Serpent, she silently defied him and instead gave Varg a stern, but pleading expression.

“Don't give in,” the specter Milea whispered, “fight him.”

Something in his mind tried to push aside this vision, despite his best efforts to fight it. He felt a rush of the same beast that slaughtered the five bandits. The beast was trying to surface to attack the vision of Milea, but Varg fought with all his strength to keep it at bay. One look into Milea's eyes made the rage cease, and Varg could feel himself returning to normal.

It was at that moment that the pain stopped and Varg could think clearly again. He opened his eyes to find himself staring straight into Jin's.

The Serpent took several steps back and stared at Varg with disbelief. “What's this? Why isn't it working?”

Varg responded by drawing Frost Fang and lunging forward. He was met by Jin's foreign blade, and the Serpent attempted to counter attack. Varg blocked and countered with an attack of his own, but Jin dodged and summoned a ball of shadow. Varg hung back and met Jin's power with his own. Ice and shadow collided as the hurlers never ceased to surpass one another.

Varg breathed deeply to control his fury and charged forward through the cloud of shadow and icy mist, intent on landing a surprise attack. Jin met him in the middle of the fray and their blades collided once more. The screeching of metal pounded against Varg's ears with each collision of their blades. Time seemed to slow down as Varg studied each of Jin's movements and waited for an opening.

He found it when Jin brought his blade downward as Varg was about to bring his up. Instead of blocking with his axe, Varg raised his left arm to defend. Jin's blade struck straight through the leather bracer and into Varg's exposed skin. Varg brushed aside the pain and brought Frost Fang up with his free hand right into Jin's open abdomen.

The tip of Frost Fang made contact with the Serpent and pierced his robe, the armor underneath, and right into his gut. Jin fell to the ground with dark blood pouring from his abdomen. He coughed and hacked blood as he tried desperately to retain his consciousness and control the bleeding. He then howled in pain as his wound began to freeze and spread over his body.

Varg halted his attack as he waited for his opponents last breath, but was instead granted a sickly laugh from the Serpent. Jin looked up at Varg with a stream of blackened blood pouring from his pale lips and uttered, “I'm impressed. You are not only the first to resist my influence, but also to cause me harm.”

Varg looked upon the bleeding Serpent and said, “All I needed was a reminder that I'm no monster, and that with enough willpower I can control my inner beast.”

“Varg . . .”

Varg turned to see Milea standing in the doorway of the throne room. She walked to his side and smiled with pride for him.

Varg turned back to Jin and said, “It's over, Jin.”

Jin laughed again and answered, “It will
never
be over, don't you understand?”

“What are you talking about?” Varg pressed.

“This conflict didn't start with me, so what makes you think it would end with me?” Jin countered. “My death means nothing now. The events are already in place for the Dawn to begin. My place in this is only minor compared to what is to come.” Jin stumbled to his feet and laughed again. “You are both doomed to perish before the Dawn. You are the most unworthy wretches the world is poisoned with, and you'd do well to take your own lives to spare yourselves the torment you will face before I'm through with you.”

The Serpent then produced a familiar crystal from his sleeve and tossed it to the wall. As a portal appeared on impact, Jin inched backwards and said, “You've won this time, Varg, but I promise that you won't be able to revel in your victory for long.”

“No, wait!” Varg shouted, but Jin turned and ran through the portal despite his grave wound. Before Varg could reach the portal and stop him, the portal had vanished and the Serpent was gone.

The bloody throne room lay in silence in the aftermath of the battle, and all Varg could do was hang his head and lean his body against the wall. As he allowed himself to sit on the floor, Varg was soon aware of the intense pain in his arm. He looked down at his arm and saw a stream of blood oozing from a deep gash all the way to his fingertips.

Milea rushed to his side and activated her healing green light above his arm. Varg watched as the wound closed before his very eyes. Once he she was sure he was healed, Milea sat on the ground beside him and leaned against him in silent comfort.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

VARG AND MILEA MADE THEIR WAY out of the front entrance to the castle with the royal family marching proudly behind them. Before Varg's battle with Jin, Milea had led the family to a room where she gave the Duke her own sword so he could defend against anyone who broke in, and once they checked on them, the Duke gave her his thanks and returned it to her. Then several guards came in and escorted the wounded King to the medical wing of the castle.

Outside, the sun was just about to rise and Varg could just now see the death toll. Bodies littered the streets, human, cultist, and dwarf alike. It seemed the battle was over, but Varg knew that this was only the beginning of a war.

After Milea recounted the events in the throne room to a withered and beaten Conley, he stood tall and announced, “The surviving cultists fled the city just a while ago. When Jin disappeared, the attack was called off.”

“Our side suffered heavy losses, but the townspeople held their own very well,” Tollack said, “but I was very impressed by your niece, Count Rowan.”

“Yes, Oliva's barrier spell protected the women and children in the warehouse while the battle raged outside. The poor girl is exhausted, but thanks to her none of the civilians were hurt,” Conley said with pride.

“I just escorted her walk to the medical ward in the castle. The guards are allowing the injured to go in for treatment,” Tain said.

Conley nodded. “I am sure the girl only needs rest, but I had better go see about her. At least we have a victory to celebrate.”

Varg turned his head and looked around. He watched as a woman wept over her dead husband, how two children searched the sea of bodies for their parents, and how a man breathed his last breath while holding his dead lover in his arms.

Varg looked with a heavy heart to Conley and said, “If this is a victory, I don't want to see a loss.”

 

The next several days were spent healing the wounded and starting the reconstruction of Whitspire. Milea tended to the wounded in the castle, as did Oliva once she was rested. Erril helped Tain search the castle to make sure there were no more cultists, but thankfully none were found. By morning three days later, everyone had begun to discuss the next plan of action.

Conley, Varg, Milea, Tain, Erril, and Oliva gathered in the throne room before the King, who now had his healing arm in a sling.

King Reman sat proudly upon his throne as he spoke. “While I don't want to believe my nephew was involved in this attack, we've intercepted couriers and Shadow Hand scouts who carried evidence that proves it. Alastor must be arrested immediately and charged with treason, but I am afraid the coward was gone by the time my men arrived to my brother's castle.”

“You don't think the Duke would harbor him after what he did?” Conley asked.

“I don't believe my brother would do such a thing even for his own son, but if he is hiding Alastor, I won't hesitate to bring him to justice as well. Unfortunately we weren't able to apprehend Count Greenwood either, but I can promise you he won't escape justice forever. In the meantime, we have contacted his sons; his eldest is returning to take his place as Count of Rivershire. I have already delivered warning to all other nobles that if they are involved with the Shadow Hand, they should come forward to avoid further prosecution,” the King explained.

“What about the headmistress in Balik?” Varg asked. “She was responsible for Oliva's abduction by the Shadow Hand.”

The King nodded. “I'll be sending men to investigate. If what you say about her is true, then we should be able to find the evidence to arrest Emila, but rest assured that the word of the heroes of Fellen will carry much weight in the case against her. Now Conley, I believe you wanted to address your comrades?”

Conley stepped forward and nodded. “It involves the cleanup process for the remainder of cult activity. Varg, you and the rest are more than able to clear out their hideouts until they're gone. We then should send word to other lands so that they may do the same. Let it be known today that we will not rest until the Shadow Hand is no more. I believe Varg has some information that should prove quite useful about Jin.”

Varg stepped forward and addressed the rest of his comrades and the King. “It's about how Jin controls his followers.”

“What is that?” the King asked curiously.

Varg took a deep breath and continued, “It's fear. Jin can somehow see the things you fear the most and all memories associated with that fear. He then manipulates your mind and brings that fear out, so that you will listen to what he says in order to escape that fear. Once I realized what he was doing, I was able to fight through it and break his control over me.”

Varg felt Milea's hand touch his shoulder, at which point the King said, “We shall see to it that he doesn't control anyone else from here on out. Count Rowan, I hereby give you and your comrades full authority to rid the land of the strongholds and hideouts where these heretics are hiding until they are out of Fellen once and for all.”

 

After much of the town had begun to rebuild, the King made plans for a ceremony honoring the heroes who saved him, his family, and his people from certain death. On the day of the ceremony, Varg and his comrades stood in the Great Hall before a crowd of townspeople waiting for the King to make his speech.

“A fortnight ago, a dangerous group of individuals carried out an attack that meant to slaughter us all. Knowing of the attack, the people standing before you bravely intercepted the invaders and led an attack that spared many lives. If not for their courage, determination, and wit, we would all have perished that night. Today, we honor them for their deeds,” the King said.

He stepped in front of Conley, who knelt before the King.

“Count Rowan,” the King began, “It was because of your charisma and strategy that the cultists were unable to overpower the citizens of Whitspire. It is my hope that you will lead your men into the depths of the Shadow Hand and destroy their numbers.”

Conley bowed his head as the King placed his blade on Conley's shoulder. He removed the blade, and then stepped before Tollack, who knelt like Conley did. “Tollack, dwarf chief of Ironbarrow, you and your men did not have to step in and defend Whitspire from these fiends, but you proved to be invaluable allies. You will always be protected under my rule.”

The King then moved on to Erril. “Young Erril, you showed great courage and drive for a child your age. You will undoubtedly grow to become a fine warrior.”

The King honored her with his blade, and then moved on to Oliva. “To Oliva, for your incredible magic power and wit that saved countless lives, I honor you and your late grandfather. I have no doubt you will live on and honor his memory with your intellect, compassion, and selfless affinity to protect the weak. I will also provide you with all the assistance you require as you ascend to the throne as Countess of Virland.”

Then the King moved to Tain. “To the mercenary, Tain, for your cunning and stealthy skills that outmatched those of the cultists. Those who used trickery and cowardice were met with your quickness and determination. You are a man of few words, but your actions speak for you.”

Then Milea. “To the lovely elf lady, Milea, for your strength and skills that protected my family from certain death. You will live on forever as the protector of the Rainald family.”

Finally, the King came to Varg. He hesitated at first, but Varg eventually bowed like the others. “Varg, you are the one I must thank most of all. If not for your strength, courage, and leadership, my people may not have been able to fend off the cultists in time. You took risks, but they proved wise, and for that, you receive my everlasting honor and gratitude.”

The King completed his speech, and then said, “Now is the time for the feast! Our heroes deserve their rest!”

After the ceremony closed, the room quickly became the sight of a grand party. As the castle bards played music, Conley led Catrina to the dance floor, much to her teasing protests. Oliva tried to pull Tain to the floor, but the water elf remained stone-faced and planted to the ground. Erril wasted no time in stuffing her plate, and pockets, with food from the table. Milea simply drank a goblet of wine and watched the crowd of people enjoying the festivities.

Varg on the other hand, felt no need to celebrate. It was true, he had saved countless lives, and even though he knew there was no way to save everyone, it still put a weight on his already heavy heart. Normally he would be the first to get drunk at a party like this, but instead he watched the crowd. His eyes looked to Milea briefly, and she seemed to enjoy watching everyone having fun. Though he wished to join her side, Varg wasn't in the mood to be festive, so instead he stepped outside into the corridor.

Being honored by the King gave Varg the freedom to go about the castle without the protests of the guards, but he still avoided them so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone. He eventually found an area of the castle that led to a rooftop garden, of sorts where he sat on a stone bench under an ivy covered archway and stared off into the horizon. The sun was setting to his right and the air was starting to feel chilly, not that it bothered him of course.

“There you are.”

Varg turned to see Milea walking up behind him. Though he'd initially wanted to be alone, he was glad to see her. “You were bored too, I take it?”

“No, but it isn't a party without you there,” Milea answered. She sat on the stone bench beside him and they both watched the sky darken and turn orange.

“It's beautiful. Though sadly, far from the end,” Milea said.

Varg turned to her, then said, “What was that?”

“Though we have ended this battle, I fear it's only the beginning of what is ahead of us,” she clarified.

“You're right,” Varg answered. “Jin can't stay in hiding forever. We will find him.”

“I'm here, Varg,” Milea said, touching his arm. “I want to always be there through any strife you have, be it in the present or the past.”

Varg had a hunch that Milea had overheard part of his conversation with Jin. It wasn't until that moment that Varg realized what his dream about Treasa meant. He pictured her standing there in his mind, and her voice echoed through his thoughts.

It's time.

Varg knew now what she meant, and with Milea by his side he knew he stood a chance. It was time to let go.

Varg then got comfortable and told Milea everything, from the first time he met Treasa, to the moment they fell in love, to the day he lost her forever. He spared no detail, and awaited for Milea's reaction when he was done.

Milea just stared at him with gentle eyes, then said, “It must have been terrible to carry that for so long.”

“I can't tell you how much better I feel now,” Varg admitted.

“What did you do after that?” Milea asked.

“I made the decision to return to the Tundra to spend time there trying to make penance. I also thought if I could find survivors of the jotun race, or at the very least some of the knowledge they left abandoned, I could better understand the primal beast I became that day,” Varg explained.

“Going back after so long must have been hard,” Milea said.

“It was, but I couldn't hope to control the beast if I simply ignored it,” Varg replied. “I traveled north until I reached the shores of the Sea of Mists, then I made voyage on a passenger ship to the southern shores of the Tundra. Once there, I used the last of my money from the fishing job to buy a map and supplies.

“After that, I survived solely on the game I hunted in the icy woods and sold the pelts to whomever would buy them. One such trader crafted some of the snow wolf pelts into a cloak in exchange for meat. He made this,” Varg pointed to his fur cape, then the tail pelts on his belt, “and then used the rest for this.”

“Very fitting, considering your title,” Milea said.

“I'm almost certain that that was how the 'White Wolf' name got started,” Varg replied.

“You didn't come up with it?” Milea asked.

Varg shook his head and answered, “It was never a name I would have chosen for myself, but with time I accepted the title as if it were my birthright.” Varg shifted in his seat and then continued, “I journeyed north until I could see no more signs of civilization. The air had grown so cold and bitter that no mere human could live comfortably, but to even a mere half-blood jotun, it was paradise. I found the mountain where the jotuns settled on thanks to the stories my mother used to tell me about them. I searched for days, but all I found were empty huts and stone halls. Everything had been exposed to the elements for so long that hardly anything regarding the jotun way of life survived.

“Then I reached the highest peak of the mountain and found the ancient keep where the elders, the governors of all the clans, once lived. The outside of the keep was decayed, as was expected, but to my surprise the inside was amazingly intact. I searched through the ancient corridors and found numerous texts, but I could not understand the language they were written in. None of the faded murals nor the crumbling statues revealed anything about their nature, culture, or temperament.

“I almost gave up when I found a strange door with an even stranger symbol carved into it. The door led outside to a path leading further up the mountain. With nothing else behind me, I marched up the path until I came to the highest point of the mountain. It was so cold that even I felt the winter's chill, but before me stood the most magnificent sight I would ever see.” Varg drew his battleaxe and held it up proudly, then continued, “I found Frost Fang standing in solid ice atop a snow-covered platform. It was obviously a weapon that was highly revered given its state, so I grabbed the handle and pulled with all my strength. It was an exhausting effort, but I finally freed it from its ice prison.

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