A Matter of Perspective
The house was collapsing. The earth roared underneath Theodore’s paws, and the tremors intensified. Behind him, the cries of terror from the cubs faded away.
It took him but a moment to realize what was happening. He was falling through the floor, still battling the branches of the evil tree that was attacking them. Using all he knew, all the muscles and sinews in his body, he started jumping from one curled undergrown root to another, while they grew, hard and black and slithering like tentacles.
Even evil creatures had to have a heart. Despite his young age, Theodore understood quickly that if he fought every branch, every twig, the only thing he’d achieve would be to waste his warrior spirit.
There had to be another way. The wolves of Whiteflame saw well in the dark, but when he stared below, the only thing he could see was a black abyss the light of the moon would never reach.
Maybe the answer was there. Instead of trying to get out of the entangling roots, he needed to go down and search for the heart.
He could no longer hear the cubs’ cries. Only the shuffling of branches growing through the earth at an impossible speed could be heard now. Theodore had promised himself a long time ago that he would be brave, no matter what trials would come their pack’s way. It was easy, in times of peace, to pretend to be fearless. A warrior’s measure was taken in true battle.
With that thought in mind, he jumped into the darkness opening below.
At first, his paws met nothing but air. Could it be that there was no end to the abyss that had opened underneath the longhouse? Theodore didn’t know much about what lay underground, but he knew that it was impossible for truly nothing to be there.
His fall seemed to have been going on for a long time when Theodore felt his paws meet soft ground. No, not just soft, it was muddy, and soon he was trapped. No matter how much he struggled to break at least one limb free, his efforts were in vain. He continued sinking into that mud. When he looked up, he saw a patch of sky, but no moon. Only a few scattered stars.
Was this how the future alpha of Whiteflame would perish? Then the words of the evil spirit that was attacking them would attain the power of a prophecy.
Theodore wouldn’t allow that to happen. For as long as he could fight, he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was still young and small, but he had the heart of a wolf beating inside his chest. That meant he would fight until the battle was won.
The sinking sensation stopped abruptly, and Theodore fell, this time for only a moment. His paws met firm ground. When he looked up, he realized that he was trapped in a cave, at the end of which a large torch burned brightly.
Two tall figures waited, standing by the sides of the torch. Theodore walked slowly toward the light.
“What are you?” he asked out loud.
Because of the bright light coming from the torch, he couldn’t see the rest of the cave well. Even his wolf eyes needed time to adjust, and so far they weren’t good for much.
“We are your guides, young alpha,” the duo spoke at the same time.
Theodore felt his front paws trembling. “Where is everyone?” he asked. “My father? The pack? My mom and the children?”
“You cannot save them,” one of the tall figures said.
“Yet you can,” the other added.
If he ran back now, would he survive? But run where? It was impossible to tell if running would even help him in any way.
No, wolves were brave. They were warriors.
“What are you?” he insisted, moving closer.
The two figures were hooded, and if they hid their faces, they were doing it well. Theodore stopped when he noticed the branches growing out of their heads.
“I know you,” he hissed, gripped by anger. “You pretended to be the wisdom tree.” So they were more than one, working together to fool him.
But the voices were wrong. Or at least one was. Theodore couldn’t tell, and it scared him. He wanted his father to be here.
“We aren’t,” the duo replied in unison. “We are the ones who keep this place. We are your guides.”
He’d been fooled before.
“Your future has already been written, Theodore. Your pack will fall by the end of the night.”
“Why are you doing this?” He hated how his voice came out weak and small, like a child’s.
“Because we must rise.”
“Why? You are the ones who failed being wolves by choosing to become evil,” Theodore said, recalling the story told to him by his mom only earlier tonight.
Silence followed. It seemed as if the air had gone still. Theodore realized, dread overwhelming him, that he couldn’t move, either.
“Listen to me, Theodore,” one of the figures whispered. “We don’t have much time.”
Theodore tried to speak, but all he managed was a horrified whine. Why had he thought he was old enough to take over the pack from his father? He was nothing but a scared wolf cub.
“The evil will win this time,” the figure continued. “But not completely. You must do as I tell you. Right now, the wolves of your pack are being dragged into this world and turned into creatures like us. I can’t allow it, but I am not as powerful as I need to be to stop them.”
“What can I do?” Theodore asked, sniffling. “I’m only a child.”
“You are the future alpha of Whiteflame. Never doubt that. Now listen.”
He did. He did listen, even as tears fell from his eyes. What wolves cried?
***
“How much farther?” Jack asked. It wasn’t like his feet hurt, but he was growing increasingly nervous the more he thought about the terrible situation in which he’d left Vince, against his will, not that it mattered.
“We must be really, really quiet,” Skarg warned him, making a sign with a bare digit bone that seemed solemn and a little quirky at the same time.
They were walking down a long narrow path through the dead trees. Was it still night? It seemed like it was. Jack clapped his hands over his biceps and rubbed them hard. He did feel the cold, but it wasn’t that bad. He’d take it over the fire and lava—
He needed to hurry. Vince could very well be, well, not in a good place. They had that time-travel armor, but Jack wasn’t sure it would protect them forever. After all, they were dealing with some pretty nasty stuff.
“Hey, Skarg,” he asked, trying to speak as quietly as he could, “how did you know I was a seer?”
“You’re a seer?” Skarg asked, quite animated by the idea for some reason. “Can you tell me if I’m going to grow big and strong? And when?”
Jack frowned. Before hearing Skarg’s laughter, he had definitely heard a voice calling him seer. But if that hadn’t been Skarg...
“Have you been like this for a long time?” he asked, an idea popping into his head.
“For as long as I know. I mean, I think there was a time before,” Skarg said, his words slowing down as if he were struggling to remember, “but it feels like a dream. Maybe I did dream before becoming myself.”
It was as good an explanation as any, but Jack didn’t think it to be the truth. He didn’t have the heart, however, to tell Skarg that he’d most likely received immortality in exchange for remaining the same young skeleton he was right now.
They arrived at the mouth of a cave, from which unbearable smells climbed to the world above. Jack held his nose and let out a gasp.
“Damn, now that’s really smelly,” he commented. “Don’t tell me we have to go in there.”
“That is exactly where we have to go,” Skarg informed him. “If you are a seer, Jack, have you read many wolves’ futures?”
Not exactly, and the things he had seen of Theodore’s future made Jack believe that he wasn’t so brave as to adventure doing the same for Skarg or any other wolf.
“It’s not as exciting as people make it out to be,” he said, hoping that Skarg would stop asking him questions about it.
Basically, he was using this skeleton-kid for his own ends, and that didn’t sit well with him. He needed to remind himself that whatever he was doing, he was doing for Vince. And Theodore. Where was little Theo right now? He was probably scared and alone. That gave him the incentive he needed. If there was one thing he could do for Skarg, it would be to become friends, he decided. And friends surely could forgive each other a little bit of manipulation when the circumstances were as dire as they were right now.
“Really quiet,” Skarg warned him, and Jack followed, struggling not to gag. The pestilence inside was fierce. Lucky Skarg, he didn’t have to smell all that because he had no nose to speak of. In times like this, Jack could afford a certain amount of envy. He would’ve liked to be a skeleton, too, for at least a half hour or so. Or however long they needed to save Vince and take him out of there.
The cave grew gradually dry and warm, which had to be happening because they were getting close to that lava place, Jack inferred for himself. The walls were also changing from rough dirt to something much smoother until they became glass.
They walked in silence. Jack looked around, mesmerized. His wolf eyes – he had to have wolf eyes – could see everything, but the smooth walls were black, and when he touched them, they didn’t feel warm at all. So where was the heat coming from?
A glint caught in the glass wall to his right, making him look more intently. At first, he didn’t know what he was looking at, so he slowed down and let his eyes follow the curious clue.
He pulled back. He could see through the wall, into another room that didn’t seem to be connected with this one at all. And in that room, a large torch burned.
Drawn irremediably to the strange sight, he walked toward the wall until he was pressed against it. A murmur reached him. Voices.
“What are you doing?” Skarg hissed at him. “We can’t dally, seer Jack.”
Seer Jack had a nice ring to it, but he needed to quiet Skarg so he could listen in. He pointed at the wall.
Skarg walked over to him and seemed to stare at the wall, too.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Can’t you see it? The torch room?” Jack asked. “Hush, I’m trying to listen.”
“But I don’t hear anything,” Skarg argued.
Jack waved at him, making him fall silent. He thought he recognized at least one of the voices.
“Theo,” he whispered and pressed his cheek against the wall harder.
What he heard made his head spin. Was it true? What that strange, hoarse voice was telling Theo?
***
“How long do you plan on keeping me trapped in here?” Vince asked. His body felt like new now. Even better. It was as if he’d gotten a full body massage and gone through a rejuvenating spa treatment. It seemed ridiculous to enjoy such luxuries while his purpose in this time and place was completely different.
You are the one limiting yourself. I’m not doing anything, the silver-bell voice continued in the same solicitous manner.
“I have never been particularly good at riddles,” Vince informed the voice.
But there is no riddle. You only need to think that you can depend on the others, just like they depend on you.
“That is not the role of a guardian. I have already failed in this quest. Jack had to save me, which makes me think--”
Makes you doubt your guardian abilities.
The voice, most likely, was reading his mind, and Vince had to admit that he wasn’t at all comfortable with it. His thoughts were his own; they were most intimate, and a strange voice had no business sticking its nose into them. Especially since it didn’t have a nose.
“I so do,” a tiny thin voice protested promptly.
Vince started when a small flying creature appeared before his eyes. It seemed to be made out of light, and it took him a few moments to make out the shape of a head and a thin, angular body, as well as large butterfly-like wings, so thin that only a slight shimmering allowed them to be seen by the onlooker.
“See?”
“Are you a fairy?”
“That is not the name I go by, but I will accept it, because it is pretty.”
“I feel like I’m lost in the wrong fairytale,” Vince said.
The fairy, or whatever the small creature was, laughed. “Not at all. Do you like riddles, Vince?”
“I just told you I’ve never been good at solving them.”
“Even so. You can like things you’re not good at.”
Vince felt too relaxed and comfortable to experience a headache. He would’ve loved one, as much as that seemed strange. “You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
Vince couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “Jack. His logic is all over the place, the same as yours.”
“I am honored, then.”
“Of course you’d be. Go ahead, tell me this riddle you’re chomping at the bit to tell.”
“I am not—all right, I am actually quite eager to share it with you. It is a bit of a fable so bear with me.”
“I am all ears,” Vince offered. Hopefully, he wasn’t wasting precious time he could be using to unravel his purpose in this timeline by indulging a tiny fairy with a penchant for telling stories.
“Once upon a time,” the fairy started, “there was a pack, and in this pack, there was a wolf. He always stood guard for the pack, day in, day out, night in, night out. Out into the forest he went, hunting for the pack. And out in the fields he went, finding tasty treats like mice when prey was scarce.”
“Are you a wolf fairy? Or a fairy wolf?”
“Why are you asking me that?” the fairy asked. “You’re quite quizzical, Vince.”
“The mention of mice as tasty treats. I find it hard to picture it,” he joked.
“Ah, Jack did rub off on you. That’s good. A guardian who can joke is a guardian who can laugh. Now, let me get on with my fable. Each day, each night, the wolf worked tirelessly. Until he found himself alone. Why?”
“What an abrupt ending,” Vince commented. “All right. You got me. Why?”
“What breaks the heart of loyalty?” the fairy replied with another question.
Vince frowned. “Nothing. That’s what loyalty is. It’s unwavering.”
The fairy’s pursed lips told him that he was way off the mark.
“What makes the howl of a wolf fade?”
“Now you are starting to sound puzzling.” Vince needed a moment to think about the meaning behind those words.
“What is a guardian without his strength?”
Truly, the fairy was starting to unnerve him.
“You must figure it out yourself,” she insisted. “I cannot simply tell you. But I can continue to ask you questions until you understand the truth.”
Vince searched his brain. While he didn’t believe the fairy to be evil anymore, he did suspect her of being his jailer in this place. A wonderful place if the way he felt was any indication of its nature.
“Can I ask you questions, too? Not the solution to your riddle, of course.”
“Go ahead. I will answer if I can,” the fairy replied.
“In your story, where is the wolf’s pack? Where do they live? What are they doing while he guards and hunts?”
“They are right there,” the fairy said, “enjoying the wolf’s hard work.”
“While they do nothing? Nothing at all?”
“Why would they do anything? He takes care of all their needs.”
“So, they’re lazy. A lazy pack of wolves,” Vince commented to himself.
“They just are,” the fairy insisted.
“They don’t help,” Vince pointed out. “Yet, in the end… the wolf finds himself alone. Could it be that they didn’t even realize he was there, doing all the guarding and hunting for them? Did they leave without him? That’s unfair.”
“Yes, it is,” the fairy confirmed with a sigh. “Do you see it now, Vince?”
“I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to see.”
“Ugh, you really want to be so good.”
“It is a noble wish to have,” Vince shot back.
“But it’s not wrong to allow others to express their gratitude,” the fairy said.
“Jack and Theodore are grateful.” He thought he wasn’t wrong to say that, though Theodore’s rough nature could leave room for interpretation.
“Then why do you belittle yourself inside your mind?”
Vince was about to comment more on the fairy’s messy logic, when his ears caught a noise. Something like a voice.
Jack’s?
“Jack,” he shouted, “in here!” He had no idea if his voice would carry to wherever Jack was, or if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but he needed to take a chance.
“Do you trust your own strength now, Vince?” the fairy asked. “Remember it. Also, just a little warning. It will get truly hot once more.”
He didn’t have time to answer. A blast of heat left him breathless and forced him to slam his eyes shut.
When he opened them again, he was back in the cave from before, hot lava pouring from the ceiling and all.
TBC
Thank you for reading!
@Mark Mortland - Vee will have to trust... eventually, and Theo, despite the pain (or maybe because of it), will go through growth.
@Derek - oh, thanks so much, that means that my story is keeping the readers interested! Jack is in for even bigger surprises! Skarg is kind of a bonus - skeleton/zombie/wolf, lol.
@David B - that is the biggest compliment an author could get! Thank you!
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