Song of Seven

Song 5: A Rising Tempo

The wound on his cheek pulsed in pain, but Axel knew that the enhancements he received from his initiation into the Crown Hounds would soon mend the gash closed, it had already scabbed over and was now a discomfort rather than a painful injury. The bonfire he had lit to provide heat for the chilling night danced quietly in the cold breeze that was ushering in what would be an even colder morning. The fire cast gloomy shadows on the shattered walls of the ruined houses inside the settlement, a reenactment of the evil that had taken place here. Axel's companions rested in their tents, restoring their spent energy from the day's battle, while the veteran soldier volunteered to take the first watch. They weren't likely in imminent danger tonight, but after witnessing the fires, broken glass, and splintered wood of the devastated outpost, they would all sleep more soundly if there was a night watch. 

Axel heard a stirring in one of the tents, catching himself reaching for his sword hilt and stopping, the adrenaline of their fight hadn't worn off and he still felt the familiar rush of old instincts urging him to remain vigilant. It was only Kellard, looking battle weary, the grotesque wound at his throat still wrapped tightly in spotted bandages. The young man joined Axel around the hot coals of the low-burning flames, leaning his back against a piece of the wreckage they camped beside. Kellard's voice was full of gravel as he spoke, "You have anything left in that flask you carry?". The wounded young man was having trouble resting, his eyes sagged heavily with dark circles, and his face was lined with worry beyond his age.

"Sorry kid, I should have saved some for you. A drink after that fight might have helped you sleep off that wound a little easier." The veteran's eyes went to the dirt and snow, wishing that he did have the comfort of booze, as he too was shaken from the day's events.

Kellard cleared his throat with a strain, wincing and shaking his head. "It's not the wound that bothers me, not really. I do have to ask you... why you didn't change? I've seen what Hounds can do, and you might have ended that fight in seconds." The question sounded not like an accusation but was colored with curiosity and concern.

The wide brim of his hat shielded the guilt on Axel's face, the boy was right, he might have been able to bring a swift death to the raven-haired women if he used the abilities afforded to him by the Mayj's enhancements. "I couldn't know how Andus or Bruth would react. Bruth may have known what he was seeing, I suspect the man has seen his share of strange things, but a priest? What does Lyris think of men like me, is my other form an abomination to them? I don't know."

Carefully considering his words, Kellard pensively stared into the ashes and coals. "I don't think so. I don't think Lyris is concerned with things like that." He stated it as simply as if it were common knowledge. His eyes went back up to Axel, trying to read the expression hidden under the shadow of his hat brim. 

"You know about as much of Lyris and her religion as I do. How could you be sure that Andus wouldn't strike me down?" Axel lowered his voice further, part of him had wanted to transform into the beast he was when they fought, and another hated the bloodlust that went along with doing so. It was true that he would have been able to spare Kellard his brush with death, but he also hated what he was when he changed. "We've seen a glimpse of the priest's power, might be that he has other magic too."

The worry on Kellard's face changed, something else weighed on the boy's mind. Clearing his throat and crossing his arms across his chest to shield him from the cold wind, his voice once again rasped quietly. "I felt something when I was healed, heard something." 

Men and women often claimed to see things when they recovered from the edge of death, Axel had experienced it many times in his service to the Vayan armies, from fallen and wounded comrades he had heard so many speak of seeing supernatural things. There was something in the way the boy spoke almost reverently about it that made Axel feel this might be a different experience but he still had doubts. "You were as good as dead, what you felt was a loss of blood and the panic of dying."