The Ashes Wake

Chapter 22: Raiden

RAIDEN
"I've just left the Sighted Men's cave. They're lovely as ever-cranky, rude, and lazy. Somehow, they seem much older than you lot, which obviously makes no sense. Anyway, all is well with them. Their new Szithorith caretaker has done well to manage and serve them, but I fear the Sighted Men are too harsh towards her. She looked unhappy. But, I digress-there hasn't been another augury since the last one. The Sighted Men have ensured they will write to us if there is."

Raiden's 785th progress letter to the Sage Witches
6928 Year, Majira Season

-

The plan of simply walking across the Forest Forest had taken an interesting turn, to say the least. In fact, all of Raiden's perfectly polished plans since he'd left the Edge had become disastrous. The Witches were not going to be happy.

After the wolf-boy fainted, he and Trifica had carried him back to Moon, who in turn brought them to a shadow wolf camp.

The poor creature had weighed hardly anything as they carried him. He stunk horribly, and his hands and feet-they were so scarred and blister infested that it almost made him sick.

Raiden had been around for a long time, but never had something like this occurred. He figured he and Trifica might've been dead if he hadn't been well versed in shadow wolf tongue. He supposed he could thank the Witches for all their training.

Now, he was sitting in front of the Alpha; Graypaw, they called him. The wolf's massive body nearly reached his chest. Raiden figured he'd at least have a story to share when he got back to the Edge. Not many creatures entered a shadow wolf camp and lived to say so. And Raiden very much planned on living.

He had no idea how Romulus survived with such creatures. Raiden hoped Trifica was able to fend for herself while he handled things. But the girl was a wild card-a disastrous, beautiful mess of childlike adventure and curiosity. And it was ultimately his fault that she-the most important creature in the Realm-was in the middle of a shadow wolf camp.

The Alpha paced back and forth in his den, and it felt cramped between the two of them though there was plenty of space. Raiden twirled his damaged ring around his finger absentmindedly.

"How dare you come into a shadow wolf camp?" Graypaw finally snarled. "We should feast on your flesh and gnaw the marrow from your bones."

What a charming shadow wolf he was. Raiden took a deep breath. "I give my deepest apologies, Alpha Graypaw, but we were told one of your shadow wolves would benefit from seeing us-Romulus. And you and I both know he isn't a shadow wolf at all."

The shadow wolf's lips curled, his canines flashing. "Of course I know that, as does the entire pack. But what can we do? He was taken in under Alpha Alaric's leadership and the half-pup has proven himself worthy in some aspects."

Raiden had no inkling who Alaric was, though he must've been respectable if the pack followed his wishes even now. But he'd seen the damage done to Romulus' body: the scars that made their marks everywhere, the long hair matted in filth, the missing finger, the weathered ruggedness of his skin, and the fresh claw marks scoured into his stomach.

Even with the repulsive images of the Isle seared into his skull, he'd never seen anything quite like this. Romulus was a walking skeleton. The boy creature didn't even known what hands were called, for Queen's sake. And to have witnessed him walking on all fours, like some kind of stick-thin demon with his body contorted...

A chill cascaded down his spine like rivulets of ice water. Raiden knew he had to do something, the Witches be damned. This was still his task, and he'd do it by his morals.