Dragonfly

Prologue

"How is he?"

"Worse, Sir. I'm afraid your father won't live to see the morning…"

It was not the first time in his twenty-six springs that Mew returned from the northern borders of their land, where he was appointed to be a jarl. Tall and stately, proud, strong and noble ... but restrained, cold and domineering in dealing with the others who have long been afraid of him, knowing how their situation would change if the current king left this world and the reins of government passed to the young alpha. Mew loved his father, but with that invisible restrained love that manifests itself not in words, but in deeds, unconditional obedience to the orders of the elder alpha and respect for his ruler. The king's husband died when Mew was seventeen, which meant that the young alpha was about to be left alone in the whole world. However, in the latter, as it turned out, he was wrong.

"Father," Mew kneels in front of the alpha, who barely keeps his head on high pillows.

The king moves his weak hand in the air, and Mew understands him without words, catches his father's palm with his own and slightly squeezes it.

"My son. So my time is over… Your era will begin soon. I know how strong you are, but you will have to become even stronger."

Mew listens to every word, does not try to object, to comfort. He knows that when the end comes, all that remains is to accept its inevitability. His father is ill. He is terminally ill. Both his body and his self-control have weakened over so many years of endless wars.

"Be fair to your folks, honest, first of all to yourself and your conscience. Power is blinding. But remain sighted, do not rise above the simplicity and purity of the heart with ambition. Do you hear me, Mew?"

"I hear you, Father. Don't waste your strength now."

"It's already gone, Mew. There's nothing left to spend... Mew?"

"What, Father?"

"Before I leave, I want to tell you about my shameful secret."

Mew is sure that his father is just delirious in the beginning agony. But the king opens his clouded eyes wide, starting to speak again:

"At the southern borders of our land, between dense forests, there is a small village. There," the elder alpha swallows, "there lives..." a terrible cough begins, but, having overcome it, the king continues, "your brother lives there… I'm sorry, Mew."

The young alpha's blood runs cold in his veins: what on earth does this all mean?!

"Father… You should get some sleep, otherwise…"

"Mew!.. his father's cry is more like the hollow cawing of a raven. "I know I'm guilty in front of you and your dad… But it just happens so that you're not my only son.… He's all alone there, being raised by strangers, his dad, like yours, left this world a long time ago, so... soon he won't have anyone left. Only you. So give me your word that you will take care of him… Let this be my last will.

"Since he lives there… Let him live on," Mew answers the first thing that came to mind, not thinking clearly.

"No! He's only sixteen… There is so much unrest on those borders. He is… He's your blood, Mew! Take care of him… Give me your word."

Mew hesitates to answer. His father's confession seems to him too improbable, painfully delusional.

"Give me your word... that you will fulfill the last will of a dying man. Otherwise, there will be no peace for me in the next world, and for you in this one."

Mew knows: whatever it was, but the father must leave this world with a calm soul, because peace is what he was deprived of during his lifetime. He may not be dying on the battlefield, but he — more than anyone else - deserves an easy way straight to Valhalla. Mew puts his father's wrinkled hand to his lips and forehead:

"I will do everything as you say, Father."

"Well ... thank you ... only be softer with him, he's so vulnerable, since childhood he didn't know either love or affection… Now you have no one but each other."

Mew nods, not taking these begs very seriously. Whoever this kid is, he's not used to letting anyone down.

"Gulf... Gulf is his name. Remember…"

How can I forget now, mentally laments Mew.

The father seems to be forgotten in a fragile sleep, his breathing, disturbed by revelations, becomes a little smoother. Mew sits next to him for some time, then the healer appears, and the young alpha is asked to leave, which to some extent he is glad, since he still cannot accept his father's words as the truth.

Gulf. Sixteen years old. Brother.

How could this happen?! My father loved my dad so much, he grieved so much when he was gone… And now I am burdened with this little bastard!

Mew didn't even bother to find out who he was, this Gulf, alpha, omega or someone else... And what's the difference! Does he... does he know who the king is? If not, then let it continue to be so. If he knows less, he sleeps more soundly. After all, I didn't give father my word that I would take care of him like a blood brother.

Only deep after midnight, Mew is overcome by drowsiness, but hardly does the sun begin to shine in the firmament, as the half of the Long House is broken into at once by the folks who fell before him, shouting in unison:

"Long live the new king!"