"Quite the inquisitive one, aren't you son." He spoke softly, and always with a slight smile so that the wrinkles around his mouth curled up slightly. "I like to think so." Came my reply, "But you still haven't answered my question." Impatient, I know, but I hadn't left properly for 5 years, so I truly hope you understand my predicament. "I'll explain. I will. But I'd quite like a cup of something strong, first. The rain here does not agree with my old bones." Old, I wasn't so sure about. He looked to be in his mid forties, but I couldn't quite tell for some reason. But I had never been on the particularly intelligent side anyway, so I was willing to accept that I just didn't know. Cleverest are the morons that know it. Twisting on my heels, I strode with a purpose back inside. "Whiskey, rum or sherry?" I shouted back, and heard the responding call of "Whiskey, of course!" I smiled to myself. Mr Kelly and I had similar tastes. I walked through the open doorway, and circled around the small table to reach a high up cabinet. Not being very tall, I had to stretch to reach the bottle of amber liquid that shone from the light coming through the window. Eventually, however, my fingers got a good grip on it, and I pulled it out with all the grace of a rockfall. Scotch stuff. High quality shit, this was, and Horrow kept it for special occasions, though I'd had a few sips from time to time on the sly. Better than the filtered pig piss the town liquor shop sold by a wide margin, but this had been aged for 50 years, and Horrow had to go into Hurlew to buy the last bottle on the shelves. Pulling the stopper off in a flourish, I caught a whiff of wood and smoke, and fished out three small glasses, and added an ice cube from the lake to mine, not Horrows. Horrow hates it on the rocks. But I did put one in Kelly's drink. He looked like the type to like it, and I may as well be on the good side of the man I would be traveling with. I poured a small amount into each glass, taking care not to spill any, and adding just a tad more to mine. What harm would it do to treat myself after all?
Balancing one glass on my left arm and the other two in my hands, I strolled out the door with a gait that only a man with too much confidence to be healthy could muster, and handed Kelly his whisky with a flourish. "Good man." He grinned, and took a relaxed sip that brought to mind an owl swooping down on a mouse. Everything he did seemed coordinated, like he had everything in his life planned out from birth. I got the feeling that if I threw Biscuit at him he would already have his hand ready to catch it an hour before I'd even lifted my arm. "And better whisky." He added. "To good men and better whisky." Horrow and I echoed, clinking our drinks together in a rare show of agreement.
"But now onto the matter at hand." murmured Kelly mournfully, looking at his empty glass like it was a dead friend. "The organisation you are about to join, my dear boy, is a very secretive and very dangerous one, so I am morally obligated to ask if you are prepared to give up everything for it? We can only tell you what our name is and what we do if you say yes. Otherwise..." He gave a noncommittal shrug. My heart was hammering so fast I was sure they could've heard it through a metal door. This was my moment. What I had trained for, what I had been waiting for, all of these five years. I was ready. I gave a slow nod, I was far too exited to speak, and a 21 year old man having a voice crack would not be very macho. Kelly nodded even slower in response. "Do you, Espin Rowe of Dunlop Den, swear to abide by the rules of and give everything to our Quartet. To kill, to die, to live to see to breathe to sleep, for the Quartet?"
Give everything? I already had. I had given away my old life, my family, my freedom, for these people. So what were a few more, I say. What were a few more little things that added up, a bit at a time, to take up more space than me? Soon I'd be more tool than man, but Shaman always told me to finish what I started, and it wasn't like I had much in the first place.
"I do." I said quietly. Horrow nodded, obviously agreeing with my choice. He'd always been one for respecting authority, and I'd always been one for discarding it, but this wasn't authority, to me at least. This was my choice, and if I get a choice, then I'm all hunky-dory.
"Espin Rowe, you are now an official member of The Pack. Your Pack number is 103, and your Pack name and Identification will be decided shortly." The Pack. So that was our name. It had a certain ring to it that I liked. A completeness. But what were these other 'things', Pack name and Identification? What was 103? The number of people in the Pack? Or was it something else? But more importantly I felt relieved that I'd said yes, that all of these long years were over and that I could finally just rest and see what happened. The problem with training is that you have to *do* stuff. There's no time available to just *be something*, because that what you're training for. You're training to change, and not be the same person when you look in the mirror.
"You will be traveling with me to meet your comrades in Pack 103, and receive your first assignment from Mother Wolf... though it will most likely be a while before you see her. Mother is currently very busy solving the problem at Derdunnen. The Ash clouds are expanding beyond expectation there."
Derdunnen. Now there was a place worth seeing. The famous Dune Towers were in summer, blanketed by waves of black smog that came from the nearby Ondor Ty, which raged and stormed with the coming of longer days. Clouds the colour of ink snuck through the streets at night in the form of Ghouls and wraiths, captained by a Djinn with three eyes. In winter, however, all traces of Ash and darkness were gone, and the 20 meter tall tower shone with a luster that shouldn't have been possible given its sandstone architecture and sheer age, yet it did, brighter than any wytchlight. Ondor Ty and its Djinn remained as silent as a mouse, biding their time and gathering their soldiers.
"And so we set off immediately!"
My head snapped back to face him. Really? We were? A grin appeared on my face so large it threatened to swallow up my ears, and I rushed to pick up Beef, who had seemingly absorbed my excitement like a sponge, as he snickered and shook his head as he swaggered towards me. Hooking on a saddle, I put my foot through one stirrup and pulled myself up, heaving as I did so. Like I said, I'm not very tall. Aaron had no horse, though. How would he be traveling? I wondered to myself. And then he started floating.