Orphan At The Edge Of The World 61 Oew

Orison summoned the first horse and while the old wolf stared dumbfounded, the young mage summoned another. "Meet Enbarr one and two. We'll have to get them back into the tack a few times a day but they don't need food or water and if they break you just make another. No muss no fuss."

Since the werewolf seemed taken with them, he let the man take first driver duty. Ever since the Enbarr upgrade, as long as Orison didn't get too far away he could not only control them as if he was in contact but other people could interact with them as if they were relatively smart horses as long as Orison allowed it. Since they were sensitive enough to respond to the command words from a distance, Orison didn't freely share those anymore. Two people trying to interact with them at the same time could cause an accident.

Orison's travel plan to get to the trail was unconventional. Roads that traveled through the westernmost part of Whiteriver's territory, aside from one that nearly shot like an arrow straight west, were little better than trails most of the time. To keep from wasting days traversing them in an increasingly complex way to reach their goal, Orison just took them off road. With Gan's help, the group could mitigate running into obstacles that weren't impa.s.sable and major roadblocks that caused the western trails to become such a convoluted mess could usually be solved with a clever combination of golem and manpower. The young mage didn't miss the mercenary leader memorizing landmarks and occasionally setting hidden directional signs. It was likely that there would be a better road through these parts in the future due to this journey.

On a smooth stretch of road they actually managed to find aligned with their trip, the old alpha named Freki said, "This reminds me of younger days, blazing trails with the previous lord of Whiteriver. How greatly one generation can change to the next, it's a sad and confusing thing."

Orison replied, "After great trials, people crave comfort and stability. The generation that comes after benefits from the labor of the one that came before and if they haven't tasted hardship themselves, take what they have for granted. What's sad and confusing is that it takes the horror of death, deprivation and hardship to awaken most people's spirit. Every generation has their innovators but golden ages only come after great upheaval. After ignorance, the greatest enemy is complacency."

Freki looked at Orison strangely. "Who's the old man here? What I was getting at is how different the successor can be to the one that came before. I see where you're coming from but the whys of it aren't that important to those of us that live on the fringe. Comfort and stability are things to never truly be ours. Survival, that's the goal for us all. But for me and my kind, sometimes it's the only goal we can really focus on.

"Say this all goes well. Me and maybe even a few other old wolves throw some of our eggs into your basket. We never know for how long the hand holding that basket's going to be steady."

Orison said, "Lucky for all of you, it's Droya, my mother, who'll be holding the basket. You couldn't ask for a steadier hand. She's also not shy about talking your ear off about anything you need to know. If I have anything to complain about, she's too fair. People don't become prosperous in a world like this being fair but if she can have a few staunch allies at her side, she'll be able to at least stay the course. If stable's all you need she'll give it."

Freki narrowed his eyes. "No one is ever content to stay the course. Once people get used to what they have, they want more. I'll sooner believe that a b*tch can squirt wine from her t*ts than believe a ruler of any kind can stay fair the whole way. Sure, they can BE fair but once the pressure's off, once they feel safe and secure, folks start looking around for more to grab."

Orison released a small amount of spirit, enough for the old wolf's hackles to start raising. "What we do, we do for our loved ones. A piece of dirt itself holds next to no appeal to us. Our eyes are set beyond the boundary of this world. We can talk philosophy and 'what ifs' but don't judge what you haven't yet experienced. And I promise you, a group like ours, you have not yet experienced."

The old wolf's eyes turned yellow and a low growl could be heard in his voice. "Don't be so quick to judge, yourself. There isn't much I haven't 'experienced' and the world can only take away what the man knows. The wolf remembers."

Orison replied, "Then does the wolf remember what dangers used to roam where we ride past without a care? There doesn't seem to be much of a limit on what it is capable of erasing. What my family earns through wisdom or foolishness, I can accept. But if a force raises against them, robs them of the right to choose their path, then that force better hope I do not find myself here again because I will erase them with a vengeance even this world can't match."

As if the grim seriousness of a moment before was only a hallucination, Orison's spiritual pressure disappeared and he said with a saintly smile, "I have it on good authority that I have a pretty decent chance of returning too. Of course, allies should be happy to see me return. I'll bring souvenirs."

Freki was lost in contemplation for a time but before they ran out of road and the way required their attention once more, the old wolf said, "So that's what this is about. I'd ask what you did to p*ss off the world but if you could answer, it wouldn't be that serious."

Orison said, "I saved someone that scared it. Haha, I better not say anything else on that. I think I just lost a couple of days. Luckily, we made this trip a red-eye. I barely have enough time to build this d.a.m.n road as it is."

Nearly three days in and they had finally reached their destination, the beginning of the trail. It had been a wet, chilly day and the evening was only getting cooler. Orison estimated that by midnight, the temperature would drop enough to begin freezing. By consensus, with no consideration for personal s.p.a.ce or individual comfort, everyone huddled together in the larger pavilion tent that Freki had brought. Due to circ.u.mstance, it wasn't a good idea to light a fire and even the most hardy of them was fatigued from the non-stop push to get here.

Orison got a glimpse into what it meant to be pack and the weight of what it meant to lead one that evening and night. If someone was having difficulty with something it would only be a second before it was a task for two. If someone needed something, it was a mere moment before someone who had it, offered. It was just a collection of little things but they all added up to a unified whole that no amount of military discipline could equal and only the closest of friends could understand.

This was more than an instinct or the spirit of pack alone. The old man who led them took those things and crafted it into unquestioning loyalty and trust in each other, a work of years that could be irreparably damaged or undone with one mistake. It was easy to make those kind of mistakes when tired and testing self control by eating a heart to stay alert and battle ready so that the rest of the pack could sleep. Yet, that's what the old man did and likely had done many times before.

***

Orison woke to being jostled roughly out of the way. Three pack members were mid transformation even as they were ripping their way out of the pavilion tent. Sounds of spoken old Northerner words were flying back and forth. Orison may have known enough to translate some runes but not enough to converse smoothly and the conversation that was happening at the moment was moving too fast for him to follow.

Mask on, the young mage made his way out of the significantly larger opening of the tent to see a showdown between the Whiteriver werewolf pack and a dozen feather caped Forgotten that had three bull sized white wolves with them. He might not have been able to follow the whole conversation but Orison picked out a few choice bits that dealt with an attack and something about middle mountains. At first, Orison thought that they were referring to a couple of Forgotten that fell trying to venture towards Everspring Valley but it became apparent that the Forgotten here were riled up by an attack that came from there to their own land.

Orison tried his best to ask what the attackers looked like but he was ignored. Lettting his eyes blaze in the cold, frosty darkness, Orison asked again more authoritatively. He was answered by an arrow bouncing off his mask and lightly sticking into his shoulder. It looked like the fight was going to break out then but Orison delayed and kept the conversation rolling by throwing out his arm dramatically, dislodging the arrow, then laughing and insulting the weak arm of the archer as Gan placed himself between the Forgotten and his 'Little Boss'.

From the stunted amount of words he could understand, Orison gathered that the leader of the group likened him to to wet female genitals and promised the young mage an ear if Orison would face the one named Skoll in a single trade of blows.

Before agreeing, Orison expressed as best he could, "Man eggs crack with small strike. Woman parts take beating for all pa.s.sing of moon in sky, still work in sun. Woman parts strong. Man eggs weak."

The young mage turned to Freki and said, "That was really bad, wasn't it? Did I at least get my point across?"

Still very much wary and alert for the first attack, the alpha said, " Some of them are trying not to laugh loud enough for the leader to hear but the leader isn't laughing at all. I'd say yes but it doesn't change anything."

With Freki's a.s.sistance, the next part was easier for both Orison and the leader on the verge of trying to kill them all, to understand.

The leader said, "No use trying to make more time to breathe but since I asked you to face Skoll, I'll accept your challenge to fight with words first... Yes, it is true what you say but one part. She is not stronger, she is tougher. Taking a beating and still working is for the defeated, even if the defeat is a joyful one."

Orison said, "Say that when it is not joyful. She takes your beating til you are weak and slits your throat while you dream happily."

The man returned, "A coward to kill the sleeping."

Orison shook his head and said, "Cunning to kill the sleeping and you've done it many times. Shameful to do then call another coward for the same thing. In the end a dead enemy is a dead enemy. Cook, healer, giver of joy and comfort, also keeper of secrets. They are not a sword but they are strong because they make you strong for having them, just like a sword. That is a woman to a man that knows the treasure he has. A broken woman, a sad woman and an angry woman can be a secret sword pointed at the man who despises his treasure."

Turning to Freki, Orison whispered, "I don't know what in the Abyss I'm doing here. Did I just turn a lighthearted word play into a debate?"

"He isn't trying to kill us yet so you're doing something right," Freki said.

After the leader had sifted through the broken Old Northland, he said, "Are you this woman? I don't kill you and you become like a sword to me? This, I don't want but I could take you. Some chiefs have pity for the woman hearted and value what they can provide. It is a shameful life you ask for but if you're life is that important to you-"

Red faced, Orison said, "I am not the woman that I speak of! Her name is wife. Her name is mother. Her name is sister and daughter. Because she is behind you, you are stronger. The circle you make with your arms is their safety and their happiness. I know this and you know this. In this we are the same."

The leader frowned. "People from the middle of the mountains broke my circle . They made three wives widows and two daughters orphans. You go to the people who broke my circle and you want to say we are the same? Who is in your circle, hm? Whose circle are you in?"

Orison took a fortifying breath and said, "The middle of the mountains is my circle and if one from my circle broke yours without...Freki, how would I say 'just cause'? Never mind, I don't even think I can say that... without first blood or those from yours breaking my circle first, then I will give them to you, blood for blood. But I need to know the faces of the ones who bring...wrong to you."

The leader smirked. "Then face Skoll. If you still stand, then you have the strength to make us bleed. Only then will it be of more value to talk instead of kill."

Orison sighed and thought, "Well, at least I get an honor dual. That's better than nothing."

The young mage nodded. "Then let me see the face of the one I must bleed to bring... bring your ear!"

The leader laugh reminded Orison of Rozcherek, his Abyss Lord frenemy. The man growled some short phrase in Old Northlander that even had Freki puzzled. The nearest 'dire wolf' slowly slunk forward as it's hackles raised. It met the Forgotten leader's eyes and then the leader looked at Orison. Skoll, the dire wolf, swung his ma.s.sive head towards the young mage and bared it's fangs.

"What a d*ck move... Gan, it's do or die man. This was my choice. If I go down, try to get Rithus back to Everspring."

Reluctantly, Gan moved out of the way and backed up to the Marshlander. With Orison's companion out of the way, the leader growled out another sharp phrase and the white furred beast stalked towards the young mage with slow grace that deceived the eye as the gap between them dwindled quickly.

Adrenaline kicked in and Orison's mind started whirring. Golems were out of the question. They took too long and he thought they'd see it as breaking their bullsh*t honor and take it as a sign to attack in ma.s.s. Big, flashy magic would be worse. It would do a lot of damage but arrows would be peppering and who knows how many would fall but one thing was certain, most of the arrows would be aimed at him. The mask was only so good. He'd still be a dead porcupine if even just three were focused on him. That only left him with one decent option that would leave the young mage low on reserve and still facing them all.

Orison muttered, "Please let this work. I know we're in for a fight to the death if I take it too far but I gotta make this good."

In a move that Orison had only practiced four times, leaving him with broken bones and damaged organs twice, the young mage drew and empowered a model for the kinetic shield inside his s.p.a.ce and tossed it to his sub mind to hold in ready. Less than ten feet away, the giant wolf launch itself at Orison like a cannonball with teeth the size of long daggers. Pulling to the very limit of what he could endure through his channels, Orison unleashed an intentionally overcharged and unstable telekinetic model that immediately burst out like a sonic boom. His sub-mind released the shield a tenth of a second too late.

The wolf's chin shot up with brutal force, small chips of enamel flying, due to the sudden appearance of the magic shield. The sonic boom of force didn't knock the wolf back, the creature was just too big. But it did send a rippling shockwave through the dire wolf that disrupted every system of it's body. It was only for a second but the beast's heart stopped, mind shut off like a switch was flipped and minor blood vessels ruptured from it's throat to midway through the barrel of it's body. The dire wolf collapsed into a heap, right where it stood.

Orison wasn't okay. The shield may have rebound and amplified the force into penetrating vibrations on the wolf but a third of that did the same to the young mage. To save his own life, Orison pulled as much of his inner potential out to the limit allowed to save his mind, heart and delicate parts from rupture but that left the rest of his organs and tissue to be ravaged. In the flare of spiritual force focused through his eyes they were saved from damage but everything was a blur. He could see nothing but spirit.

While the numbness of shock protected him from pain, Orison managed to hoa.r.s.ely call out in broken Old Northlander, "I have done. I brought pain by your hand called. I now want to give life help... make whole. d.a.m.n it, I want to heal your wolf!. Can we not pretend that futh-...ark... Come on world, it's just a d.a.m.n name. What does it hurt!?... Can we just speak common tongue? I'm certain you're tired of hearing me slowly butcher your whole language!"

Without command, the other two dire wolves slowly started slinking towards Orison, ears laid back and teeth bared in utter silence.