Where was he? Where was he? Too long. He'd been gone too long. What had happened? Something must've happened? He wouldn't be gone for this long if nothing had. Should I go after him? Is he in trouble? But what in the world could give him trouble? Where was he?
Sierra Voidfire paced across the hall while these thoughts raced across her mind. Her beloved Lord Valentine hadn't returned for a few weeks and she was losing her mind. Suddenly, as if in answer to her prayers, there was the familiar, faint boom! of space being ripped apart and a yellow portal opened up in the middle of the hall. Sierra instantly turned to it, her eyes gleaming with hope. And, as her heart skipped a beat, she saw the tall figure of Lord Valentine walk out of the portal.
But something was wrong. Lord Valentine's eyes were troubled...extremely troubled. And...excited? What had happened? Where'd he been?
Valentine saw the familiar hall of one of his mansion with unseeing eyes. The trip to Barfoss had been deeply concerning. He still wasn't completely sure that the family he saw there were really the people they appeared to be. Maybe he wanted them to be...
"My...my Lord." said a faint voice behind him. He turned around to look. Sierra was standing there in a black gown, looking up with devoted, yet anxious violet eyes. For a second he just stared at her as a stream of a re-realization flowed through him, reminding him of his roles and responsibilities as the ruler of all vampires. It lasted only a second, but it was enough for Sierra to catch.
"Are...are you okay, my Lord." asked Sierra, worried. "You look worried. Did something happen."
Her caring eyes, filled with concern and love, made Valentine smile. I really am lucky. "No, no. Nothing much." he put his hands on her shoulder and pulled her closer. "I'm fine."
Sierra was blushing, almost radiating with the heat from her cheeks. But her mind was not at completely at ease yet. Valentine saw that, and guiltily remembered that he'd left her on a mission he'd almost forgotten about. He vowed to never let that happen again. Before his Elder Vampire could speak, he let go of her and casually waved his hand to make the wine bottle fly out of the cabinet and pour him a drink.
"So, how goes the Woodland Walkers case, Sierra?" he asked, handing her a wine glass. With what's happening in Barfoss, I need to tie up all these petty things as quickly as possible.
Sierra sensed that Valentine didn't want to talk about why he'd been so distracted when he came through, and she respected him too much to press him. She forced herself to smile for his sake.
"I...er...not much progress, my Lord." said Sierra, suddenly a little worried that she'd done nothing at all these past few weeks. "The werewolves, four of the five werewolves you're interested in that is, went out to a wendigo settlement north of the village. I had them under observation the whole time. There they apparently got some intel on the fact that it was the Deadtail werewolf pack, their western neighbors who actually perpetrated the massacre. So, now they're on their way there, all thrilled by the idea of killing the entire pack. It'll take them a couple of weeks to get there though."
Valentine just stared at her dumbfounded. Have I been too soft on Sierra? "So, you mean to say, all we, as in The Order, have done, is observe these four werewolves this entire time?" asked Valentine, his voice calm for now, as he walked to his royal, wooden desk and leaned against it.
"Yes, my Lord." answered Sierra proudly. "I had them under observation every single minute of every day. We didn't-"
Suddenly, Valentine snapped and punched his ornate desk so fast Sierra didn't even see. There was a muffled crack like sound was trying to catch up and the desk split down the middle into two pieces. Sierra recoiled in shock at Valentine's anger. "I'm disappointed in Sierra." he said crossly, his eyes flashing red for a second. "I didn't realize you were this incapable."
A meek, hurt sound, like the first cry before weeping was all she could muster. Sierra just stared in absolute shock and hurt. Her eyes almost watered up, but the fear of Valentine's anger kept the tears at bay. Her heart was broken, but her mind was absolutely terrified of facing Valentine's wrath.
"Did I leave you in charge of the Walkers' matter so you could observe them? Did you think I gave you the luxury of time? Are you treating them as your new playthings?" asked Valentine, standing there like an angry god.
Sierra mind felt like jelly. Everything felt foggy and slow...her entire world collapsing. She fell to her knees, showing reverence to this being she worshiped. "I...I...didn't...didn't know-"
"Don't make excuses, Voidfire." said Valentine, his voice low and icy, but cutting like fire. Sierra closed her mouth immediately.
"If you had information on who might have committed the massacre of our brethren, it was your job to go and find out for yourself and not wait for werewolves to do your job for you while you sit around!" said Valentine, his voice still not loud. "You should've squeezed the Deadtails' information from the wendigos yourself! And by now, you should be out there, right now, wringing those Deadtail werewolves for all they're worth."
Sierra just bowed her head further; a single tear fell from her eyes and wet the carpet in a small, pin-sized spot. Valentine saw that, and calmed down a little. He sighed. "The fault isn't yours. Maybe I expected too much from you without teaching you about these things myself."
"No." said Sierra, surprising herself that her voice was steady. "I should know these things." she said, staring at the carpet's threads. "You're absolutely right. I deserve this anger. I...am not worthy to even ask for forgiveness after being this...incompetent." There was silence for a few, long moments. Then she heard Valentine's footsteps coming closer and she sank further into her bow. All she saw was a pair of black leather shoes step near her.
"Then do better." he said, simply. There was no kindness in his voice, but no malice either. "Rectify your mistakes."
Sierra nodded exorbitantly. "Of...of course, my Lord." she stammered.
"Look at me." Valentine commanded. Sierra, who had been dreading that order, forced herself to stand up and look at her Lord's face. It took every fiber of her willingness to not tear away from those piercing red eyes.
"I want this situation dealt with, as quickly as possible, Lady Voidfire." said Valentine almost threateningly. "I'll be more involved with this matter now, seeing as completely entrusting it to you was a mistake. Get to that werewolf village, make them talk, then tell me everything you learn. But do not kill anyone who had a hand in the massacre. And keep the other four Walkers under observation too."
"As...as you command." said Sierra, feeling overwhelmed by his intensity.
Without stretching out his hand, Valentine burst open a portal. As the yellow space twirled mysteriously inside, he glanced at Sierra for a second. Maybe I was a bit too harsh...but I fear she needed that. There's too much going on in Barfoss right now. I can't tolerate incompetence, even from Sierra. With a flip of his long overcoat, Valentine walked through the portal without a word more.
The room turned damp and cold. Sierra just stood frozen for a second in the desolation. There was no one around... All of Valentine's words crashed around her mind, wrecking her world. His displeasure, his anger...and above all, his disappointment in her. "You disappoint me, you disappoint me." The words reverberated in her mind again, and again. She'd not liven up to the expectation her beloved had of her. She'd displeasured him and disappointed him. For the first time in her life, he'd actually been annoyed by her. Suddenly, all of the emotions overwhelmed her, and she collapsed on the floor into muffled sobs, echoing with pain.
* * *
A long road lay ahead of the four werewolves. They were going back to almost their village but then would divert and head to the Deadtails pack settlement.
Sheraff walked ahead with Theraff trailing behind him, the hierarchy set naturally. The Alpha was worried. Indeed, since the whole Led Orien fiasco, he couldn't remember the last time he'd not been fretting over something. But right now, the feeling was intensified. In the pit of his stomach, he had a really bad feeling about heading to his rival pack's village; like he'd open a box he'd never be able to close...a box full of a darkness that would engulf him.
I'm tired. The thought suddenly crossed Sheraff's mind. It was like it had been there the entire time, but he hadn't really pinpointed it. He sighed. This entire Alpha thing is no easy task, is it? He asked himself. He looked up at the sky and saw the sun was slowly turning red. They still had a few hours of daylight left, but it was inevitable that it would fade. He sighed again. I just wanna run away.
The last line of thought shocked Sheraff. He suddenly perked up and shook his head. What the hell is wrong with me? I wanna run? Leave all of my pack behind because I'm tired? What kind of a pathetic alpha am I? Sheraff sighed yet again. Well, it is true that I am a pathetic alpha. Without allowing any other thought to stick in his mind for more than a few moments, Sheraff took one dreary step after another.
Theraff observed all of this from behind. His brother looked tired and worn out. This whole situation wasn't easy on him. Trying to keep peace with the vampires and keeping his pack happy at the same time...not all alphas would be able to do that. Theraff raised his and to grab Sheraff's shoulder. To grip it tightly and let him know he wasn't alone. But something held his hand back. There was pain in his eyes. Slowly, Theraff lowered his hand and let his thoughts go quiet as the moons started shining through the pink sky.
They walked on for days. It was a good run. Stopping every night for a feast of game they'd caught. Laughing around the fire as they made fun of Levet's cooking. Looking up in reflective thoughts at the stars in the night as Ranfred hummed a song of his stories. Sheraff started to realize once again why he was fighting. Why he was were he was right now. It was because of these three. Being on the road with them, with nowhere to call home is how Sheraff's life had begun. After the massacre of his pack at the hands of a vampire group, Theraff and Sheraff had turned savage. Taking whatever they needed from whichever humans that had it. Living in the wild like animals, fighting over scraps.
Then, they'd met Ranfred and Levet. Two powerful werewolves who could put even an adolescent Silverback in his place. Ranfred had stayed his hand that day. When Sheraff had been lying in a pool of his own blood after trying to take down Ranfred, the prime werewolf had stayed his hand. Something in the defiant green eyes of the young pup had stopped his hand from slashing across the teenager's throat.
And then they'd taken them in. Treating the two younger werewolves with respect they'd forgotten. Giving them a bed, enough food, manners...somewhere, both had turned into their parents. That was the golden age that Levet missed so much. Him in his prime as he'd train this promising young Silverback to be as powerful as he could possibly be. Regaling young Sheraff in his stories and being happy at how his earnest green eyes filled up with wonder at each new tale.
But slowly, times had changed. The two young pups grew up to be powerful wolves. They started making their own decisions. Started taking in other werewolves. Before either Ranfred or Levet realized, the two had formed a pack. Theraff decided to give up the power to Sheraff and settle for second-best. Sheraff decided to settle the entire pack instead of roaming Decimandria. Soon as Levet looked in his reflection, he could see he was past his prime.
"We're here." announced Sheraff. "The Deadtails' territory."
"We have to be careful, they could have scouts out." said Ranfred, crouching beside his alpha.
"What do we do about them?" asked Theraff.
"Rip them apart." said Levet through gritted teeth.
"Not so fast. We don't need them to bolt on us and raise the alarm." said Sheraff. "We have to go about this carefully."
"Carefully?" repeated Levet preposterously. "What the-"
"That's enough." said Sheraff. "I'm the one making decisions here."
Levet's sentence died in his throat. He suddenly had a vision of years past as he'd said the same thing to a young Sheraff as they were about to raid a human village. Sheraff had respectfully fallen silent. Levet laughed as he looked at the adult werewolf in front of him now. What else could he do except laugh?
Maybe the same thoughts were going through Sheraff's mind, because his tone was gentler as he explained his logic. "It's just us four going up against an entire pack. We need every advantage we can get. The element of surprise is crucial to us."
Levet shrugged his shoulders. Always using his head before his hands. "You're right, we should-"
"Stop." said Theraff, raising his hand and looking around. "Do you sense that?"
The other three looked around intently, focusing all their senses on their surroundings.
"I don't sense anything." announced Levet after a few moments. "Nothing."
"Exactly." said Theraff. "There should be some scouts keeping watch on the road to the village."
"You're right. Rorag isn't stupid." said Ranfred. "He would have a few guards up."
"There's something more..." muttered Theraff. "In the village..."
"You can't possibly scan the village from all the way over-"
"You're forgetting who he is, Ranfred." said Sheraff. "He's a Silverback. Of course he can."
Ranfred grinned. "A Silverback who's grown even stronger."
"Shh." said Theraff. "What...is this smell..." His eyes suddenly shot wide open and glowed bright green. "Vampires!"