Bjarke
Evenora?
I knew about the witch, her commitment to Dark Wood and her being the mate of Herlief but I would of never guessed she was the daughter to Olufemi.
"You're not a pack member of Dark Wood so you can't be expected to know everything," Rokolth piped.
"Yet I have a feeling that members of that pack are equally oblivious."
Letting this information really set in, I looked at Liam but he looked dumbfounded.
It was Alfolthrul who simply stared at me as if trying to pluck any hidden knowledge out of me.
The Alpha observed me with the gaze that of a shadow, void of judgement with no strings or that's what it felt like.
I stared back at Alfolthrul for a while with a raised eyebrow, still lost in my own thought. He was sitting in his chair, his back arched and his eyes never leaving mine.
"Bjarke, are you okay?" I held his stare with mine.
"Yeah, fine," I murmured absently, my eyes shifting to the window.
"Boy, look at me."
I shook my head at him slightly as I stood.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"Meet me at Hisatgafl Vale when the moon is at it's peek."
"Is ever—," my father began but I cut him off.
"Just do it, please."
With that, I cut the mindlink.
Blinking, my eyesight readjusted to see Liam now staring at me.
"Look elsewhere," I snarled, Rokolth pushing forward causing my eyes to change instantly.
"If you will excuse me, Alpha Alfolthrul," I said.
Nodding, I gave Alfolthrul a slight bow before leaving the room only to find myself in front of the room where my sister was.
I could only imagine what she would feel if she actually remembered everything.
There was a sharp pain in my heart as I pushed open the door only to move to stand beside the bed, staring down at Noir.
I don't know when she will regain her memories in full but I had a feeling that when she did, her sadness would overwhelm her.
She would think of it like death by a thousand dagger cuts, for every time a memory lost is regained, it would be another cut to her already damaged mind.
Calder didn't want to kill her, he wanted to torment her over time. This accumulation will bleed her of her humanity.
Noir, despite being a dipshit with a mouth that always got her in trouble and a curious personality, was also gregarious and generous by nature.
When this is all said and done though, who isn't to say she won't be unhinged along with becoming dispassionate, lackadaisical and lugubrious?
I could only hope my sister would be as strong as she came off and not one to sit in a corner a cry but could I really blame her if she did?
Thinking to myself more, I sighed before tucking Noir further into her bed before leaving to meet our father.
***
Once I made it to the village gates, I let Rokolth take over, shifting and took off towards Hisatgafl Vale.
Hisatgafl was a small, unclaimed valley between Howling Hollows and Crest Valley. Our father and Uncle have no interest in Hisatgafl thus leaving it unallocated but due to this, has left it subjected to Skelmar.
Luckily, they aren't too prominent here.
Rokolth slowed his pace once he got to the center of the Vale, his ears twitching to each sound that echoed around him.
It wasn't until leaves fell above him, Rokolth looked up into the canopy's obscurity only to be met with bright cerulean eyes staring back down at him.
"He definitely will keep one on edge," I quipped, mentally rubbing my temples as Rokolth snorted in agreement.
When Spire jumped down from his place on high, he stood his full height.
Rokolth and I rolled our eyes. Spire was a massive lycan in every sense of the word. Rokolth was enormous but Spire? He was prodigious, standing nearly two feet taller.
Shifting, we stared at each other.
"Why did you leave so suddenly, only leaving a cryptic note behind," my father asked, now leaning against a tree trunk, his eyes still shining a bright cyan.
I didn't say anything for a prolonged period, unsure how to really approach the topic of importance to a man who has unacknowledged amnesia of his own daughter.
"That's what the mánnfolk call memory loss, amnesia, right?" I asked.
"Don't ask me dumb ass questions. I don't pay attention to what they call shit," Rokolth snapped.
"Such a great help you are," I rolled my eyes before looking back at my father.
"I'm waiting. You can't just leave like that. You have—," I cut him off.
"Have what? Responsibilities? So do you. One of them being that of my sister, Noir, your daughter," I snapped, the whole ordeal becoming overly frustrating.
"I already told you that I don't know what you're talking about, Bjarke," my father snapped back with equal fervor.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed.
"I was in the Howling Hollows' pack discussing matters with Uncle Alfolthrul."
I knew my father and his brother didn't get along but this couldn't be helped.
Not moving from his place, my father's expression became dark.
"What business do you have going to that man's pack?"
"Your brother," I corrected. "And because, as of right now, he seems to be the only damn being that can help us with Noir."
"Why are you so—," once again, I cut him off.
"Just for a moment, will you please at least hear me out," I groaned.
When he didn't say anything, I continued.
"Even you have mentioned being uneasy since you returned from Dark Wood. You couldn't even remember being gone as long as you were. Haven't you thought for one moment that strange? Your lack of memory? You being gone from your pack as long as you were," I questioned.
"Faðir... please, put whatever this is with your brother aside and let him help."
I was practically begging now.
The silence that wrapped around us became asphyxiating as my father thought about what I was asking. I had no doubt in my mind that he was also pondering on the discussion we had the day after his return.
I could sense the unease and uncertainty coming from him. He might of been in Dark Wood when everything happened and been affected but he's not a pack member of Dark Wood. Maybe there is a loophole to help him regain his memories where for others, they are temporarily permanent.
"Poor bastards," Rokolth spoke suddenly causing me to jump.
"Stop doing that," I hissed.
"You're the one that seems to forget I'm here when we aren't talking or have shifted," he snipped. I could practically feel his eyes roll.
"Fine," was all that my father said before I looked at him in the rays of moonlight as his eyes fogged over.
When he regained himself, he shifted without question, Spire shaking out his fur. Looking to me, Spire growled causing Rokolth to come forth and shift before returning the notion.
"I hope you know what you're doing, pup. Because I sired you doesn't mean you have a reason to question me BUT even I know something is wrong. So if you have answers, share them," Spire snarled at Rokolth, shaking his head and baring his teeth.
Rokolth returned the action, his tongue flickering across his canines as his saliva dripped from his maw.
Both Spire and Rokolth butted heads, growling while trying to assert dominance for some ungodly reason while they stared at one another before Rokolth recoiled only to take off in the direction of Howling Hollows.
Upon crossing the pack border and shifting, both men clothed themselves and barged into Alfolthrul's office causing the Alpha to turn in his chair, not phased his brother was present.
After an agonizing moment, Alfolthrul spoke.
"Well, I was expecting Alistair. What do I owe the pleasure, brother?"
No one said a word until my father growled. It was a guttural sound that even made me want to take a step back but Rokolth kept me anchored in place.
Slamming his hands down on Alfolthrul's desk, my father snapped.
"Show me everything you know."
Alfolthrul smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his brother's hand.
"As you wish."
With that, my father's eyes slammed shut only for them to open again later as he hit his knees, his body shaking in continuous tremors.
When all was said and done though, his hands were released and he almost fell back before jerking his head towards the door.
Without hesitation, he sprang up and bolted from the room, nearly destroying the door in the process.
"Saddle down, boy."
I looked at my uncle who wore a smile and I sighed.
Awh Hel, here we go.
Lugubrious - looking or sounding sad
Lackadaisical - lacking enthusiasm and determination
Gregarious - friendly