Evalyce: Worldshaper Vol. 1: Mother of Wolves

Chap. 7- Twice the Trouble

Cryshal Kanlon, 10000 ft above Evalyce, Year of the Mythril Serpent, 2014 CE

Vander slowly came awake and, upon waking, wished he hadn't. He hurt, great Balgeras, how he hurt. His very lungs seemed bruised and sore. Vander blinked gritty eyes. The room slid into focus, an expanse of smooth grey stone, bounded by three stone walls and a wooden door with bars set high up. He was in one of the Kanlon's dungeon cells.

A heavy iron collar was fixed about the frost wolf's neck, a chain leading to the wall. A muzzle pinched his jaws painfully shut and all four paws were shackled together. More than that, his powers were bound again. The wolf was as helpless as a lamb set for slaughter. The ever present presence of Shingar was gone and he guessed that Aleister had managed to slay the big magister after all.

Vander whined softly, fleeting memories of the night before assaulting him. He remembered attacking Hauss, the inferno that had felled the Chief Healer, and wondered if he were still alive. A memory of Kalla's taunting words. The mage's cold expression. The cool voice urging her to go ahead and kill him. The rasping voice that had freed him, changed him. Given him a second chance and made him Kalla's responsibility.

Responsibility. Hah. Kalla's burden and one she most likely wouldn't want to deal with. He whimpered again and tried to curl up, but the chains and shackles made it difficult. He had no idea how long he lay, alone in the dark before he heard voices in the hall. They stopped outside the cell door. A key turned in the lock and the door scraped open. In filed Sevrus sin'Wyvaldor and two maesters bearing a thick pole.

The Sevfahlan mage was dressed in the formal robes of the 'Sin's judiciary capacity. A mane of unruly raven hair framed a face set in hard lines, his sea-green eyes grim. Without a word, the pole-bearers unlocked the collar from the wall and slipped the stout pole through the shackles binding Vander's paws. The frost wolf grunted as they stood, gripping the pole at either end and forcing all of his weight onto his bound paws.

Silently they followed Sevrus down a long corridor, with Vander swinging from the pole like some game hunter's prized trophy, the tail of his mane brushing the floor. He shivered inside, for what a fine trophy a red frost wolf pelt would make! He knew where they were taking him. This corridor had only one termination.

They were taking him to the Hall of Execution.

Apparently Kalla had decided that she didn't want to be burdened with his unwanted presence after all, not that he blamed her in the least. They entered the Hall and Vander saw that others were already there, though Kalla wasn't among them. He recognized Warryn, standing to one side of a long stone table that rose waist high from the ground. The Archivist would be here as witness. To the other side stood one of the Nameless, the executioners of De Sikkari, cowl pulled up to hide his face. The Nameless were all trained magi, their skills and knowledge used to end life rather than save it. In the shadows beyond stood three silent, watchful figures, the magisters belonging to Sevrus, Warryn and the Nameless. The bearers laid Vander on the stone table and withdrew from the room, taking the pole with them. Sevrus loomed over him, eyes like frozen sea-foam glaring down at the bound wolf.

"Vander kyl'Solidor, you have been found guilty of being a traitor to the Kanlon and a threat to the people. The sentence is death by sinnis fal, the execution to be carried out immediately." Sevrus' voice was flat, cold, matter-of-fact.

A thin whimper escaped the wolf at the 'Sin's harsh words. Warryn flicked a sympathetic look towards Vander as he dutifully recorded the judgment. Vander supposed it could be worse. The combined poisons of sinnis fal would put him to sleep. His passing would be painless and unlamented.

Vander closed his eyes as the Nameless stepped up to the table and unfurled his equipment. The wolf tried to tell himself that it would all be over soon, but he couldn't keep himself from whimpering. The man gently but efficiently rearranged his paws, seeking the best spot to work. Vander flinched as he felt the needle slide smoothly into his foreleg. A sensation of icy numbness followed it, spreading throughout his body. The first injection. He felt a pressure as the executioner slipped the first needle out and placed the second.