Final Soldier
Icefurr Swiftblade stood proudly before his commander as the big ermine pinned a captain’s badge to his silver cloak. “Thank you, General Iceclaw, I won’t let this badge down,” he stated immediately.
“Of course you won’t. If you do, you die,” Iceclaw responded matter-of-factly. Icefurr laughed.
He was standing in front of Gulrag Northwind’s horde. The big wolverine had accumulated many vermin to his service in the land of Clandon. He and his captains had trained them until they were far more disciplined than any others before them. Icefurr was a prime example of this, Iceclaw thought. The white fox was strong, with perfect posture and a well sharpened blade. Not for the first time, the ermine general wished that the sword was his. It was curved, slightly blued, with a black leather-bound grip. Icefurr had gotten it off of a fallen rat. It was certainly not of vermin make.
Never mind that. The fox was now bowing with his paw clenched at his chest. Icefurr stood, did a smart about-face, then walked off towards his tent through the small crowd of observers.
Icefurr reached his tent. All of his equipment and personal belongings were still there, but his regular grey tent had been replaced with a red and black captain’s dwelling. Gulrag’s flag flew from the top, a claw stripe surrounded by blood. Inside, everything was as it normally was. One thing was different, though. During his promotion, some attendants had come in and placed a captain’s map table in the center. On it was a small plan to attack a nearby settlement of warrior rabbits. Pinned to the map was a commission:
Captain Icefurr Swiftblade,
These rabbits pose a threat to me and my empire. We have control of all of the northern lands, but I’m entrusting this place to you. Capture it, and you may be lord in power there. State Lord Icefurr, has a nice ring to it. Don’t fail me. Although, the records that my other commanders give me say that you won’t.
Gulrag Northwind
This is what made Gulrag Northwind such a powerful warlord: he commanded real, authentic loyalty from his troops, and actually fulfilled promises. However, his vermin understood the consequences for disobedience. Icefurr was elated with this commissioning.
He immediately stood up a studied the map. He would be given command of the IceStrikers division. It had been out of action since its previous commander, Captain Flenrider, had been slayed in battle. Icefurr himself had never seen real battle, but had studied strategy since he was a child, and had quelled slight rebellions in the farther north.
Little did he know what the dark side of his overlord looked like.
*****
Leo Gundar stood in the front line of his division. They were to meet their new commander. For two weeks, they’d been bored to death with cleaning service, not to mention being kicked around by the more nasty captains like dirt.
Icefurr strode out, sporting a black tunic, leather boots, his silvery cloak, and his commander’s badge. “Atten . . . tion!” the sergeant called. Forty pairs of boots snapped together.
“I’m assuming that Sergeant Killtarn briefed you all on the commission from Lord Gulrag?” Icefurr asked confidently.
“Yes, sir!” they chorused.
“Good. Will my group leaders step forward?” Four ermine marched out from their lines and stopped in front of him. “Lead your groups as you were told. No mercy. Flush them out,” he ordered. “Not even the babes.”
“Yes, captain!” All of the IceStrikers saluted and moved out of the campsite. Icefurr followed at the back.
*****
Leo was proud to be with one of the groups that struck first. They headed off into the growing darkness with two torches at the lead. The warrior settlement was very close, and they soon saw it on the horizon. “Draw!” called both group sergeants. All of the ermine and foxes drew out an identical sword and equipped themselves with a kite-shaped shield.
Icefurr was at the head of the other two groups. They were armed lightly, and were coming around to the rear of the settlement. The blinding white fox flicked his paw. Both groups moved forward, splitting up into a pincer movement.
The settlement was a large cluster of houses, with ramshackle fortifications of timber and some furniture. However, the rabbit warriors were obviously experienced. Sentries lined the walls. A small tower had been constructed in the center of the camp. Icefurr suspected that there would be listening tunnels.
Shouts came from the settlement on the other side of the walls as, presumably, the first strikers hit them hard. Even from his current position, as his paws pounded the ground in time with his soldiers’, he could hear the clash of steel on steel growing in volume. “Now!” he whispered.
Immediately, both groups burst into a flat-out run. The fortifications were taller than they looked. Because of this, they lost precious time. One sentry who’d stayed behind noticed an ermine on top and yelled, “More over here!” An archer quickly shot him down.
Nobody had heard him.
Icefurr leaped over the barricade. “Attack!” he shouted. His troops charged through the huts and straight into the back and right flanks of the rabbits. The warriors in the settlement all carried shields with a strange design on it: a paw clasped with a talon over a straight sword. It was painted in green on all of their weapons and armor.
Leo Gundar laughed in vermin cruelty as he defeated yet another foe. That one had been strong. He saw Captain Icefurr charging into a building, and he ran after the white fox to help.
Leo and Icefurr both came to an abrupt stop at the same time. By an open hearth stood an old arctic hare and a smaller one, presumably her grandson. “Don’t hurt my granny!” the younger hare squeaked, lifting an iron poker.
Suddenly, Leo was hit with a feeling of pity. He didn’t want to kill them. “Captain, I suggest that we don’t kill them, but maybe take them as prisoners? They’re not warriors,” he mumbled to Icefurr.
Icefurr’s emotions were in turmoil. They were defenseless, but his orders . . . “I agree,” he eventually responded.
Another fox was standing in the doorway. “Don’t worry, captain! I’ll take this one,” he exclaimed. A bloodthirsty creature, wanting a promotion, thought Icefurr quickly.
“No, wait!” he started, but it was too late. The arctic fox had rushed forward and slain the babe and his granny.
“What . . . why did you do that?” Icefurr stuttered, horrified. “He was an innocent creature . . .” He collapsed by the young babe, blood pooling around the hares' necks and heads.
The other fox was confused . . . right up until he was cleanly knocked unconscious by Leo. “Foul creature . . . I never imagined this,” he said. “Captain Icefurr . . . we should leave. I don’t want to stay here. You feel the same way?” the ermine continued. “This is not what I thought it was . . .”
“It’s not right,” Icefurr said, half sobbing over the dead bodies. “I thought that we were doing the right thing . . . but we’re different from the others,” he continued, now facing Leo. “You know we are. I am glad we met.”
Leo nodded, and began out the doorway. “We have to leave. Now,” he said, disregarding Icefurr’s title as captain.
Icefurr stood and screamed, “This was murder, not a rebellion!” He flung his sword at the wall. It stuck.
Leo slapped a paw over his captain’s mouth. “Maybe I’m just weak, but I think that this was a horrible idea, and so was your screaming. Let’s go!” he whispered fiercely. The other fox began to stir, and Leo slammed his footpaw in its face. The arctic fox sank back to the floor with a slight moan.
Icefurr retrieved his sword and swept out of the house.
He left his captain’s badge on the floor.
*****
Icefurr and Leo both flattened themselves against the wall as a troop of vermin marched past, presumably looking for them. Leo had heard a minor captain issue an order to find “Captain Swiftblade’s dead body” as soon as possible. So, they didn’t know that the pair was trying to find a way out.
Leo looked around the corner. They’d almost made it to the gate. He drew his sword and settled his shield in his paw. When he got out, he just didn’t want any more of this mess. He’d been fine with it for months, even enjoying it, ruthlessly slaying creatures in battle. However, when he’d seen two completely defenseless creatures slayed for no reason, something had snapped. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have killed them under orders. It was that he was worried that if he did, he’d become as bloodthirsty as the fox who had.
The ermine returned to the present.
Beside him, Icefurr had drawn his sword as well. On second thought, he decided to switch it out for his bow. The pair waited for a few more tense minutes. The gates were soon empty, more or less, except for dead bodies and two guards: one fox, and a formidable-looking wolf.
“I’ll shoot the wolf. You see if you can take out the fox before he warns the others,” Icefurr ordered. Leo nodded, brought his shield up, and stepped out into the open just as a black feathered arrow transfixed the wolf. The huge silver creature fell to the ground. He was clutching his neck.
Leo ran at the fox. The white fox was so stunned, he didn’t even have a chance to cry out in pain as he was run through by the point of Leo’s sword. Icefurr joined him. He was carrying a shield like that of the rabbits. He’d picked it up, since he had no shield. The moonlight glinted off of the talon and paw symbol. Wait . . . something clicked in the fox’s mind. A talon . . .
“Hey . . .” he whispered uncertainly. He didn’t know the ermine’s name.
“Leo. Leo Gundar,” Leo replied. He took off at a jog through the gate and towards the open plain.
Icefurr quickly overtook him. “A talon. A talon’s on their shields. They had birds.” They both came to a stop. “Where were they?”
They both heard a screech of pain coming from the village, and a bird’s call of, “More over there!”
“Run!” Icefurr howled.
*****
Leo’s lungs were burning. He could hear flapping wings, and battle calls of huge birds, most likely kites and eagles. Icefurr pounded the earth beside him. All that they could see was flat tundra in all directions.
Icefurr smelled water. After running for fifteen minutes, he assumed that they were near some kind of body of water. “Keep going! Can you . . . swim?!” he gasped out between breaths.
Leo grunted in reply. He could see moonlight glinting off of a stream. He sped up a bit, and Icefurr did as well. The birds were getting closer. “Vermin!” one screeched. There were three of them, Icefurr now knew. He’d slightly turned his head and seen them out of the corner of his eye.
Finally, they were at the stream, almost into the forest beyond it. Both dove into the flowing liquid.
The quiet underwater was a sudden change from the sound of screeching eagles and two pairs of thundering footpaws. Icefurr looked up, and saw a ledge blocking the moonlight. He signaled Leo. The ermine also glanced up. He nodded. They both kicked their paws, and emerged away from the prying eyes of the birds.
Icefurr took a deep, quiet breath. The pair waited until they were sure that their pursuers had flown off, then swam out into the center of the creek. “That was close,” Icefurr noted, still breathing deeply. Leo still didn’t speak and just nodded.
They both climbed out onto the bank. Leo, being older than his former captain, was an experienced soldier. He had a small bag with a lightweight tent, and carried flint and tinder. They had a camp set up in no time.
As they sat by the fire thinking, Icefurr posed a question. “What now, Leo?”
His ermine friend shrugged. “I actually want to move down south and try to find an uncomplicated life there. I’ve been thinking about deserting for months. Maybe just avoid all creatures, in hopes of also not having to deal with the distinctions, ‘good and bad’. I’m neither.”
Icefurr thought about that for a long time. Was he a kind creature, an evil animal, or neither?
*****
The next morning, the two woke up at the same time. Leo packed up the gear, and he stood before his new friend. “Icefurr, I’m sorry that we cannot stay together much longer. However, I believe that this is where we must part ways. I salute you, Captain Icefurr Swiftblade, my last commander.” He raised a paw to his brow. Icefurr returned the gesture, then clasped paws with the ermine.
“Goodbye, Leo Gundar, my final soldier.” They both turned in opposite directions: Icefurr to the north, and Leo to the south.
Never to see each other again, but one last time: after death.
“Of course you won’t. If you do, you die,” Iceclaw responded matter-of-factly. Icefurr laughed.
He was standing in front of Gulrag Northwind’s horde. The big wolverine had accumulated many vermin to his service in the land of Clandon. He and his captains had trained them until they were far more disciplined than any others before them. Icefurr was a prime example of this, Iceclaw thought. The white fox was strong, with perfect posture and a well sharpened blade. Not for the first time, the ermine general wished that the sword was his. It was curved, slightly blued, with a black leather-bound grip. Icefurr had gotten it off of a fallen rat. It was certainly not of vermin make.
Never mind that. The fox was now bowing with his paw clenched at his chest. Icefurr stood, did a smart about-face, then walked off towards his tent through the small crowd of observers.
Icefurr reached his tent. All of his equipment and personal belongings were still there, but his regular grey tent had been replaced with a red and black captain’s dwelling. Gulrag’s flag flew from the top, a claw stripe surrounded by blood. Inside, everything was as it normally was. One thing was different, though. During his promotion, some attendants had come in and placed a captain’s map table in the center. On it was a small plan to attack a nearby settlement of warrior rabbits. Pinned to the map was a commission:
Captain Icefurr Swiftblade,
These rabbits pose a threat to me and my empire. We have control of all of the northern lands, but I’m entrusting this place to you. Capture it, and you may be lord in power there. State Lord Icefurr, has a nice ring to it. Don’t fail me. Although, the records that my other commanders give me say that you won’t.
Gulrag Northwind
This is what made Gulrag Northwind such a powerful warlord: he commanded real, authentic loyalty from his troops, and actually fulfilled promises. However, his vermin understood the consequences for disobedience. Icefurr was elated with this commissioning.
He immediately stood up a studied the map. He would be given command of the IceStrikers division. It had been out of action since its previous commander, Captain Flenrider, had been slayed in battle. Icefurr himself had never seen real battle, but had studied strategy since he was a child, and had quelled slight rebellions in the farther north.
Little did he know what the dark side of his overlord looked like.
*****
Leo Gundar stood in the front line of his division. They were to meet their new commander. For two weeks, they’d been bored to death with cleaning service, not to mention being kicked around by the more nasty captains like dirt.
Icefurr strode out, sporting a black tunic, leather boots, his silvery cloak, and his commander’s badge. “Atten . . . tion!” the sergeant called. Forty pairs of boots snapped together.
“I’m assuming that Sergeant Killtarn briefed you all on the commission from Lord Gulrag?” Icefurr asked confidently.
“Yes, sir!” they chorused.
“Good. Will my group leaders step forward?” Four ermine marched out from their lines and stopped in front of him. “Lead your groups as you were told. No mercy. Flush them out,” he ordered. “Not even the babes.”
“Yes, captain!” All of the IceStrikers saluted and moved out of the campsite. Icefurr followed at the back.
*****
Leo was proud to be with one of the groups that struck first. They headed off into the growing darkness with two torches at the lead. The warrior settlement was very close, and they soon saw it on the horizon. “Draw!” called both group sergeants. All of the ermine and foxes drew out an identical sword and equipped themselves with a kite-shaped shield.
Icefurr was at the head of the other two groups. They were armed lightly, and were coming around to the rear of the settlement. The blinding white fox flicked his paw. Both groups moved forward, splitting up into a pincer movement.
The settlement was a large cluster of houses, with ramshackle fortifications of timber and some furniture. However, the rabbit warriors were obviously experienced. Sentries lined the walls. A small tower had been constructed in the center of the camp. Icefurr suspected that there would be listening tunnels.
Shouts came from the settlement on the other side of the walls as, presumably, the first strikers hit them hard. Even from his current position, as his paws pounded the ground in time with his soldiers’, he could hear the clash of steel on steel growing in volume. “Now!” he whispered.
Immediately, both groups burst into a flat-out run. The fortifications were taller than they looked. Because of this, they lost precious time. One sentry who’d stayed behind noticed an ermine on top and yelled, “More over here!” An archer quickly shot him down.
Nobody had heard him.
Icefurr leaped over the barricade. “Attack!” he shouted. His troops charged through the huts and straight into the back and right flanks of the rabbits. The warriors in the settlement all carried shields with a strange design on it: a paw clasped with a talon over a straight sword. It was painted in green on all of their weapons and armor.
Leo Gundar laughed in vermin cruelty as he defeated yet another foe. That one had been strong. He saw Captain Icefurr charging into a building, and he ran after the white fox to help.
Leo and Icefurr both came to an abrupt stop at the same time. By an open hearth stood an old arctic hare and a smaller one, presumably her grandson. “Don’t hurt my granny!” the younger hare squeaked, lifting an iron poker.
Suddenly, Leo was hit with a feeling of pity. He didn’t want to kill them. “Captain, I suggest that we don’t kill them, but maybe take them as prisoners? They’re not warriors,” he mumbled to Icefurr.
Icefurr’s emotions were in turmoil. They were defenseless, but his orders . . . “I agree,” he eventually responded.
Another fox was standing in the doorway. “Don’t worry, captain! I’ll take this one,” he exclaimed. A bloodthirsty creature, wanting a promotion, thought Icefurr quickly.
“No, wait!” he started, but it was too late. The arctic fox had rushed forward and slain the babe and his granny.
“What . . . why did you do that?” Icefurr stuttered, horrified. “He was an innocent creature . . .” He collapsed by the young babe, blood pooling around the hares' necks and heads.
The other fox was confused . . . right up until he was cleanly knocked unconscious by Leo. “Foul creature . . . I never imagined this,” he said. “Captain Icefurr . . . we should leave. I don’t want to stay here. You feel the same way?” the ermine continued. “This is not what I thought it was . . .”
“It’s not right,” Icefurr said, half sobbing over the dead bodies. “I thought that we were doing the right thing . . . but we’re different from the others,” he continued, now facing Leo. “You know we are. I am glad we met.”
Leo nodded, and began out the doorway. “We have to leave. Now,” he said, disregarding Icefurr’s title as captain.
Icefurr stood and screamed, “This was murder, not a rebellion!” He flung his sword at the wall. It stuck.
Leo slapped a paw over his captain’s mouth. “Maybe I’m just weak, but I think that this was a horrible idea, and so was your screaming. Let’s go!” he whispered fiercely. The other fox began to stir, and Leo slammed his footpaw in its face. The arctic fox sank back to the floor with a slight moan.
Icefurr retrieved his sword and swept out of the house.
He left his captain’s badge on the floor.
*****
Icefurr and Leo both flattened themselves against the wall as a troop of vermin marched past, presumably looking for them. Leo had heard a minor captain issue an order to find “Captain Swiftblade’s dead body” as soon as possible. So, they didn’t know that the pair was trying to find a way out.
Leo looked around the corner. They’d almost made it to the gate. He drew his sword and settled his shield in his paw. When he got out, he just didn’t want any more of this mess. He’d been fine with it for months, even enjoying it, ruthlessly slaying creatures in battle. However, when he’d seen two completely defenseless creatures slayed for no reason, something had snapped. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have killed them under orders. It was that he was worried that if he did, he’d become as bloodthirsty as the fox who had.
The ermine returned to the present.
Beside him, Icefurr had drawn his sword as well. On second thought, he decided to switch it out for his bow. The pair waited for a few more tense minutes. The gates were soon empty, more or less, except for dead bodies and two guards: one fox, and a formidable-looking wolf.
“I’ll shoot the wolf. You see if you can take out the fox before he warns the others,” Icefurr ordered. Leo nodded, brought his shield up, and stepped out into the open just as a black feathered arrow transfixed the wolf. The huge silver creature fell to the ground. He was clutching his neck.
Leo ran at the fox. The white fox was so stunned, he didn’t even have a chance to cry out in pain as he was run through by the point of Leo’s sword. Icefurr joined him. He was carrying a shield like that of the rabbits. He’d picked it up, since he had no shield. The moonlight glinted off of the talon and paw symbol. Wait . . . something clicked in the fox’s mind. A talon . . .
“Hey . . .” he whispered uncertainly. He didn’t know the ermine’s name.
“Leo. Leo Gundar,” Leo replied. He took off at a jog through the gate and towards the open plain.
Icefurr quickly overtook him. “A talon. A talon’s on their shields. They had birds.” They both came to a stop. “Where were they?”
They both heard a screech of pain coming from the village, and a bird’s call of, “More over there!”
“Run!” Icefurr howled.
*****
Leo’s lungs were burning. He could hear flapping wings, and battle calls of huge birds, most likely kites and eagles. Icefurr pounded the earth beside him. All that they could see was flat tundra in all directions.
Icefurr smelled water. After running for fifteen minutes, he assumed that they were near some kind of body of water. “Keep going! Can you . . . swim?!” he gasped out between breaths.
Leo grunted in reply. He could see moonlight glinting off of a stream. He sped up a bit, and Icefurr did as well. The birds were getting closer. “Vermin!” one screeched. There were three of them, Icefurr now knew. He’d slightly turned his head and seen them out of the corner of his eye.
Finally, they were at the stream, almost into the forest beyond it. Both dove into the flowing liquid.
The quiet underwater was a sudden change from the sound of screeching eagles and two pairs of thundering footpaws. Icefurr looked up, and saw a ledge blocking the moonlight. He signaled Leo. The ermine also glanced up. He nodded. They both kicked their paws, and emerged away from the prying eyes of the birds.
Icefurr took a deep, quiet breath. The pair waited until they were sure that their pursuers had flown off, then swam out into the center of the creek. “That was close,” Icefurr noted, still breathing deeply. Leo still didn’t speak and just nodded.
They both climbed out onto the bank. Leo, being older than his former captain, was an experienced soldier. He had a small bag with a lightweight tent, and carried flint and tinder. They had a camp set up in no time.
As they sat by the fire thinking, Icefurr posed a question. “What now, Leo?”
His ermine friend shrugged. “I actually want to move down south and try to find an uncomplicated life there. I’ve been thinking about deserting for months. Maybe just avoid all creatures, in hopes of also not having to deal with the distinctions, ‘good and bad’. I’m neither.”
Icefurr thought about that for a long time. Was he a kind creature, an evil animal, or neither?
*****
The next morning, the two woke up at the same time. Leo packed up the gear, and he stood before his new friend. “Icefurr, I’m sorry that we cannot stay together much longer. However, I believe that this is where we must part ways. I salute you, Captain Icefurr Swiftblade, my last commander.” He raised a paw to his brow. Icefurr returned the gesture, then clasped paws with the ermine.
“Goodbye, Leo Gundar, my final soldier.” They both turned in opposite directions: Icefurr to the north, and Leo to the south.
Never to see each other again, but one last time: after death.
Rogue Captain
Icefurr stood, rubbing his back. “Well, that was definitely not what I’d call a good night’s sleep,” he muttered. He’d had strange dreams all night, and kept waking up due to stones beneath his bedroll. The arctic fox bent down to fold said bedroll. Of course, he hadn’t thought to use his tent last night, either, so he and his blanket were covered with a light dusting of snow.
Just your typical wanderer’s night in the frosted lands of Clandon. He’d been walking for a few months now, watching the borders of the Western Region for any of Gulrag’s horde, or any evil-doers. So far, he’d freed one border village from Gulrag’s horde through slight trickery and defeated a small gang of bandits.
The arctic fox shouldered his pack and was about to head off to find somewhere else to stay, when he heard a scream. Icefurr spun around. He heard it again, coming from the south. The fox drew his sword and dropped his pack, footpaws taking him in that direction.
He burst into a clearing between some evergreen trees. A pair of ermine were yanking a tattered sack away from an old snowshoe hare. She screamed again as one hit her paw with the flat of his sword. “Somebeast, help me!” she screeched. Icefurr charged out of the trees, wielding his sword and shield.
“Let her go!” he commanded. The ermine were so stunned, they did exactly that.
One of them peered at him strangely. “Who are yeh?” he asked. “An’ wot kind o’ warrior are yew?”
Icefurr hesitated. Then he made a decision. “I am Icefurr Swiftblade, protector of this land! As to what kind of warrior I am, I am one that could easily put both of ye to flight!” A little boasting never hurt, he reasoned. Both ermine drew rusty swords.
“Oh, yeah? Then try it!” one taunted. They moved in on either side of him. The arctic fox backed up slowly. Suddenly, he lunged with his sword, catching the one on his right off guard and stabbing him through the shoulder. The ermine screeched and dropped his sword.
Icefurr’s shield came up just in time to block the other’s mad swipe. The fox swung his arm around, pinned the blade to the ground, and struck with his curved sword.
The ermine clutched at his stomach. He stared at Icefurr’s sword, then his shield. The ermine’s eyes grew wide. His clouding eyes were fixed on the symbol on Icefurr’s shield: a paw and talon clasped over a straight sword. Icefurr had repainted it in red. “You . . . Rogue Captain!” he gasped out, then collapsed, blood streaming out of his wound. He was dead. Icefurr turned to the other ermine and kicked his sword out of reach.
The ermine lay prostrate on the ground. “You, get out of here. Tell whoever you work for that the Western Clandon Region is not easy to pillage. I know that Gulrag Northwind rules the Northern and Southern Regions, but this land is protected by me. Go!” Icefurr ordered. The ermine scrambled up off the ground and stumbled away into the open snowfields.
Icefurr walked over to the poor hare. She had fainted right away. Quickly, he built a fire to keep her warm. He needed to know what village she was from, before he took her anywhere. Something else was on his mind, though. Why had the ermine called him “Rogue Captain”?
*****
The snowshoe hare finally woke up. The old hare slowly took in the fire, then the creature sitting beside it. She warily sat up. “Who are you?” she asked. “Are you friends with those ermine?” She started backing away.
“No, of course not,” he reassured her. “I stopped them. Where are you from?” She inched back to the fireside.
“I’m from a small town, further away from the border. By the name of O’Halley Township,” she croaked, then coughed some. When she’d regained her breath, she nodded towards him with an air of wisdom. “You’re the Rogue Captain.”
Icefurr started. “That’s what one of the ermine said. I’ve never heard the title,” he said. “What is it for?”
“You managed to leave Gulrag Northwind’s horde. That in itself is an accomplishment. You’re famous along the border, and even somewhat well-known farther into the Western Region of Clandon. Also, you drove off some of his army from the M’Keefe settlement, and defeated birds and bandits. I just spotted your shield: the Northern Resistance symbol in red.” Icefurr looked at his shield. He’d thought that the rebels were just a small-time operation. Obviously, he’d been wrong.
“But I still don’t understand why everycreature would know me! Just those small things wouldn’t make me important!” he argued. The old hare held up a paw.
“I’m not finished. Some say that you are the rightful ruler of the North and South together. So do I. Ancient tales speak of an older land, called Clandoran. ‘Twas a united country. Both North and South were one region. West and East were two others, and were ruled by two kings instead of councils. The kings of Clandoran bore the surname of Swiftblade, for their prowess in battle. Their weapons were embued with celestial power, to assist them in defeating evil. They had always been foxes of white . . . although they were half arctic wolf, making them stronger,” she added. “Gulrag’s father overthrew this kingdom long ago, and the descendants of the kings were scattered. Few retained their history. I believe that you were one of those few. Tell me, young one, where did you come from?”
Icefurr was stunned. “I . . . I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I . . . I think that I was taken in by the army as a babe.”
“Wrong! You are the Rogue Captain, heir to the throne. Once a king, always a king!” The fire exploded into the air. Icefurr shielded his eyes. When he looked back, the snowshoe hare was gone.
He blacked out.
*****
Icefurr sat up and shook his head in confusement. What had happened. He was lying in the middle of a clearing, covered in snow, and clutching his shield close to him.
The events of the day flashed back into his mind. The hare, the ermine, the shield, Swiftblade . . . everything. Once again, he shook his head. He wasn’t a king. Why hadn’t he known about all of it? He’d never heard any of it before. The Rogue Captain?
The arctic fox stood. He’d dropped his pack beyond the trees, so Icefurr walked in that direction. He found it quickly. As he bent over to pick it up, something that the hare had said flashed into his mind. “Half white wolf,” he muttered. He looked at his paws. They were indeed larger than those of other foxes. His muzzle was sharper, and his tail was longer. He was taller, too, than the others. “I guess she wasn’t lying,” he reasoned. He looked at his shield. “But now what?”
“Now you come with us, if you please,” a voice said from behind him. He turned, drawing his curved sword. A group of sea otters and rabbits stood in front of him. “Woah, now, mate!” the one who’d spoken said hurriedly. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re with the resistance!” He pointed to the red shield. Icefurr slowly lowered his sword.
Just your typical wanderer’s night in the frosted lands of Clandon. He’d been walking for a few months now, watching the borders of the Western Region for any of Gulrag’s horde, or any evil-doers. So far, he’d freed one border village from Gulrag’s horde through slight trickery and defeated a small gang of bandits.
The arctic fox shouldered his pack and was about to head off to find somewhere else to stay, when he heard a scream. Icefurr spun around. He heard it again, coming from the south. The fox drew his sword and dropped his pack, footpaws taking him in that direction.
He burst into a clearing between some evergreen trees. A pair of ermine were yanking a tattered sack away from an old snowshoe hare. She screamed again as one hit her paw with the flat of his sword. “Somebeast, help me!” she screeched. Icefurr charged out of the trees, wielding his sword and shield.
“Let her go!” he commanded. The ermine were so stunned, they did exactly that.
One of them peered at him strangely. “Who are yeh?” he asked. “An’ wot kind o’ warrior are yew?”
Icefurr hesitated. Then he made a decision. “I am Icefurr Swiftblade, protector of this land! As to what kind of warrior I am, I am one that could easily put both of ye to flight!” A little boasting never hurt, he reasoned. Both ermine drew rusty swords.
“Oh, yeah? Then try it!” one taunted. They moved in on either side of him. The arctic fox backed up slowly. Suddenly, he lunged with his sword, catching the one on his right off guard and stabbing him through the shoulder. The ermine screeched and dropped his sword.
Icefurr’s shield came up just in time to block the other’s mad swipe. The fox swung his arm around, pinned the blade to the ground, and struck with his curved sword.
The ermine clutched at his stomach. He stared at Icefurr’s sword, then his shield. The ermine’s eyes grew wide. His clouding eyes were fixed on the symbol on Icefurr’s shield: a paw and talon clasped over a straight sword. Icefurr had repainted it in red. “You . . . Rogue Captain!” he gasped out, then collapsed, blood streaming out of his wound. He was dead. Icefurr turned to the other ermine and kicked his sword out of reach.
The ermine lay prostrate on the ground. “You, get out of here. Tell whoever you work for that the Western Clandon Region is not easy to pillage. I know that Gulrag Northwind rules the Northern and Southern Regions, but this land is protected by me. Go!” Icefurr ordered. The ermine scrambled up off the ground and stumbled away into the open snowfields.
Icefurr walked over to the poor hare. She had fainted right away. Quickly, he built a fire to keep her warm. He needed to know what village she was from, before he took her anywhere. Something else was on his mind, though. Why had the ermine called him “Rogue Captain”?
*****
The snowshoe hare finally woke up. The old hare slowly took in the fire, then the creature sitting beside it. She warily sat up. “Who are you?” she asked. “Are you friends with those ermine?” She started backing away.
“No, of course not,” he reassured her. “I stopped them. Where are you from?” She inched back to the fireside.
“I’m from a small town, further away from the border. By the name of O’Halley Township,” she croaked, then coughed some. When she’d regained her breath, she nodded towards him with an air of wisdom. “You’re the Rogue Captain.”
Icefurr started. “That’s what one of the ermine said. I’ve never heard the title,” he said. “What is it for?”
“You managed to leave Gulrag Northwind’s horde. That in itself is an accomplishment. You’re famous along the border, and even somewhat well-known farther into the Western Region of Clandon. Also, you drove off some of his army from the M’Keefe settlement, and defeated birds and bandits. I just spotted your shield: the Northern Resistance symbol in red.” Icefurr looked at his shield. He’d thought that the rebels were just a small-time operation. Obviously, he’d been wrong.
“But I still don’t understand why everycreature would know me! Just those small things wouldn’t make me important!” he argued. The old hare held up a paw.
“I’m not finished. Some say that you are the rightful ruler of the North and South together. So do I. Ancient tales speak of an older land, called Clandoran. ‘Twas a united country. Both North and South were one region. West and East were two others, and were ruled by two kings instead of councils. The kings of Clandoran bore the surname of Swiftblade, for their prowess in battle. Their weapons were embued with celestial power, to assist them in defeating evil. They had always been foxes of white . . . although they were half arctic wolf, making them stronger,” she added. “Gulrag’s father overthrew this kingdom long ago, and the descendants of the kings were scattered. Few retained their history. I believe that you were one of those few. Tell me, young one, where did you come from?”
Icefurr was stunned. “I . . . I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I . . . I think that I was taken in by the army as a babe.”
“Wrong! You are the Rogue Captain, heir to the throne. Once a king, always a king!” The fire exploded into the air. Icefurr shielded his eyes. When he looked back, the snowshoe hare was gone.
He blacked out.
*****
Icefurr sat up and shook his head in confusement. What had happened. He was lying in the middle of a clearing, covered in snow, and clutching his shield close to him.
The events of the day flashed back into his mind. The hare, the ermine, the shield, Swiftblade . . . everything. Once again, he shook his head. He wasn’t a king. Why hadn’t he known about all of it? He’d never heard any of it before. The Rogue Captain?
The arctic fox stood. He’d dropped his pack beyond the trees, so Icefurr walked in that direction. He found it quickly. As he bent over to pick it up, something that the hare had said flashed into his mind. “Half white wolf,” he muttered. He looked at his paws. They were indeed larger than those of other foxes. His muzzle was sharper, and his tail was longer. He was taller, too, than the others. “I guess she wasn’t lying,” he reasoned. He looked at his shield. “But now what?”
“Now you come with us, if you please,” a voice said from behind him. He turned, drawing his curved sword. A group of sea otters and rabbits stood in front of him. “Woah, now, mate!” the one who’d spoken said hurriedly. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re with the resistance!” He pointed to the red shield. Icefurr slowly lowered his sword.
A Brief Description of Clandon
Now comes the time for me to describe the history and layout of Clandon.
As you’ve probably guessed, it is divided into the North, South, East, and West Regions, and a few other places. You may also know that the North and South Regions are ruled by Gulrag Northwind and his army, and the West and East Regions are ruled by two councils. Gulrag is content for now with holding just the North and the South. Let me go into a more detailed description.
MAIN REGIONS
North and South Regions of Clandon
Historians say that further back into the past of these two regions, they have always been entwined, even though they are on opposing sides of Clandon. The kings of North and the kings of South had good relations for decades. Some generations back, they ended up under one king. The two families had intermarried so much that without even some kind of vote or agreement, Lifewind Swiftblade just took the throne, and no one disputed his rights. The two regions were combined into one: Clandoran. For four more generations, there was a peaceful rule of foxwolves with no battles or wars with the other two regions.
In the rule of Mc’Kenthon Swiftblade, Gulrag’s father appeared in the furthest south. The wolverine had gathered many followers and quickly took the lower half of the South region. King Mc’Kenthon sent troops to drive them back, but it failed, losing Clandoran half of its army. The army’s leader, also known by Norden, kept coming.
Finally, he reached the capital of Clandoran. In a final stand, Norden slayed King Mc’Kenthon Swiftblade, despite the strength given the foxwolf by the Overall King (I’ll talk about that later). He took the throne, assuming the title of warlord. He swept most of the North clean of resistance. However, some remained to fight and continue to attack the warlord’s army in the weakest points of strategic defense.
Two nurses with two children of royal blood are said to have escaped and disappeared.
Now, we’ll talk about the natural history of the North and South regions.
The Southern Region was and is mostly populated by the smaller animals, such as arctic foxes, ermine, and snowshoe hares. Most of the time, foxes stand taller than ermine, and ermine stand taller than hares and rabbits. Usually, ermine and hares are more prone to battle and joining Gulrag’s army at earlier ages, or helping the resistance.
The landscape is barren. Few trees grow, but the ones that do are evergreen and live for many years. The rest is nondescript ice and snow. In the summer, there is also usually a light dusting of snow.
The Northern region has the larger, more warlike species: white wolves, eagles, and sea otters. The otters are far smaller than the wolves, but tougher. The eagles, and a few other bird species, resent the rule of Gulrag as warlord, so are almost always ready to assist the rebels. You might have seen this earlier at the encounter that Icefurr and Leo Gundar had with the resistance.
The plantlife is a little more rich in the Southern Region, but that isn’t saying too much. Mostly, that just means there’s dried grass instead of snow in areas furthest south, where Gulrag trained his army.
West Region of Clandon
The Western Region has a simpler history than the North and South do. It originated when a faction of creatures, mostly snow lemmings, mice, and arctic rabbits, broke off from the North Region. They formed a democratic council. As time went on, these smaller animals forged alliances with the creatures of the Mountainous Lands, making them far harder to conquer.
Every once in awhile, they hold an election for a new Council Spokesbeast. This creature is in charge of directing the council, and therefore holds a bit more power than the other councilcreatures. Fourteen Spokesbeasts have ever been in office, and there are two that I’d like you to remember: Redtail Farleaper, and Ferguson K’Lenon.
Redtail Farleaper is of importance to you because he was the rabbit who proposed to form the alliances with the Mountainous Lands and declare war on Eastern Region. He was the eleventh Spokesbeast. By his suggestion, messengers were sent to the Marshall of the Lands to create bonds of trust, and eventually, a mutual defense treaty to protect them in any kind of battle or war. Also under the guiding paw of Farleaper, the first attack to gain land from East Region was ordered. Ever since, conflicts have been constant and perennial.
Ferguson K’Lenon is of greater significance. He was the one to begin attacks Gulrag Northwind’s father’s southern borders, and aiding the rebels. He believed that the warlords were a blight upon Clandon as a whole, and they should be subdued. K’Lenon’s son and grandson continued this mission. He took office as Spokesbeast directly after Farleaper.
As I said before, Western Region is almost completely populated by arctic lemmings, white rabbits, and mice: the smaller animals. Their birds are mostly terns and puffins. That’s about it for the animals. As to their tendency to battle, these creatures don’t like to fight. However, they do keep a small garrison for those who are actually good warriors.
The plant life is far more rich than that of the South and North. The farther west you move, the more evergreens and bushes you find, until there is absolutely no snow at all.
East Region of Clandon
The East Region has almost the same story as the West: they broke off from the Southern Region, and formed alliances with two other small areas. These other places were Therennia and the Plainsterritories. This way, they were also protected against attack and so were the two others. They also have a council, but no Spokesbeast or anything of the sort. So, I have nothing else of interest for you here.
The animals of the Eastern Region are the same as the Western Region, but their birds are sparrows. Their plant life is basically the same as the South Region of Clandon.
OTHER LANDS
The Mountainous Lands of Clandon
The Mountainous Lands, as their name suggests, contain a lot of mountains. They have always been independent, the historians of Clandon say. This area covers the entire west edge of the continent.
The Mountainous Lands are also called the Land of Mystery, for no one really knows much about their origin, the military strength of their government, how the government is really organized, or all the types of animals there. There are only a few things that are known for sure.
The main animal species living there is the polar bear. This creature’s strength in battle is what makes them such a valuable asset to the Western Region. Instead of being governed by a king, they are ruled by an emperor. Nocreature really knows the rest of the hierarchy.
The Plainsterritories of Clandon
Again, the name gives away what most of the landscape is: plains. This place covers almost a third of the eastern branch of the Clandonian continent. It’s no secret that the residents of this land are governed by their own warlord. He isn’t as powerful as Gulrag is, but he is strong enough to keep the Plainsterritories to himself. If Kallenian Snapclaw keeps to himself, so will the warlord of what used to be Clandoran.
Before Snapclaw conquered the Plainsterritories, they were ruled by a king. However, the Territories were easy to take because the king had no real power over what happened in his large, flat savannah of a kingdom. Usually, the animals living there just kept to their own small villages and townships.
The animals of the plains include jackals (like Kallenian), foxes, hawks, and badgers: mostly large animals. The plantlife is mostly long grass and a few trees, as can be expected.
Therennia
Therennia, interestingly, is not a part of the overall Clandon area, and is never referred to as Clandon. Actually, it’s not even attached to the continent. It’s a large island off the coast of the Plainsterritories and East Region. The animals of Therennia are mongoose, snakes, red pandas, and actual pandas. Due to its size and habitat, the population is dense but fewer than you would think. Still, the alliance with East Region is invaluable to both sides.
All the creatures together make decisions together. However, they do have a militia-based army with full-time commanders. They need it to uphold their mutual defense treaty with Eastern Region and to defend themselves from the likes of Gulrag Northwind and Kallenian Snapclaw.
The plant life of Therennia is based on jungle trees, ferns, ground plants, and other forest growth. This makes it inhospitable to the creatures on the mainland, who are used to very cold climate year-round, and habitable to the animals who live there. The snakes, pandas, and mongoose could never survive on Clandon, but some do manage to live in the Plainsterritories.
*****
There you have it. A description of the history, residents, and government of the different areas, territories, and regions of Clandon, land of ice. I hope it helps you understand the tales of the Rogue Captain.
A Note From the Author: Clandon and the Real World
Clandon’s geography and climate has no relation to the way our world acts. For instance, you read that the warmest climates are in the east, and the coldest in the north and west, even though the west has the most plant life on the mainland. See? It makes no sense to you. However, it makes sense to the residents of the countries themselves, so bear with me.
As you’ve probably guessed, it is divided into the North, South, East, and West Regions, and a few other places. You may also know that the North and South Regions are ruled by Gulrag Northwind and his army, and the West and East Regions are ruled by two councils. Gulrag is content for now with holding just the North and the South. Let me go into a more detailed description.
MAIN REGIONS
North and South Regions of Clandon
Historians say that further back into the past of these two regions, they have always been entwined, even though they are on opposing sides of Clandon. The kings of North and the kings of South had good relations for decades. Some generations back, they ended up under one king. The two families had intermarried so much that without even some kind of vote or agreement, Lifewind Swiftblade just took the throne, and no one disputed his rights. The two regions were combined into one: Clandoran. For four more generations, there was a peaceful rule of foxwolves with no battles or wars with the other two regions.
In the rule of Mc’Kenthon Swiftblade, Gulrag’s father appeared in the furthest south. The wolverine had gathered many followers and quickly took the lower half of the South region. King Mc’Kenthon sent troops to drive them back, but it failed, losing Clandoran half of its army. The army’s leader, also known by Norden, kept coming.
Finally, he reached the capital of Clandoran. In a final stand, Norden slayed King Mc’Kenthon Swiftblade, despite the strength given the foxwolf by the Overall King (I’ll talk about that later). He took the throne, assuming the title of warlord. He swept most of the North clean of resistance. However, some remained to fight and continue to attack the warlord’s army in the weakest points of strategic defense.
Two nurses with two children of royal blood are said to have escaped and disappeared.
Now, we’ll talk about the natural history of the North and South regions.
The Southern Region was and is mostly populated by the smaller animals, such as arctic foxes, ermine, and snowshoe hares. Most of the time, foxes stand taller than ermine, and ermine stand taller than hares and rabbits. Usually, ermine and hares are more prone to battle and joining Gulrag’s army at earlier ages, or helping the resistance.
The landscape is barren. Few trees grow, but the ones that do are evergreen and live for many years. The rest is nondescript ice and snow. In the summer, there is also usually a light dusting of snow.
The Northern region has the larger, more warlike species: white wolves, eagles, and sea otters. The otters are far smaller than the wolves, but tougher. The eagles, and a few other bird species, resent the rule of Gulrag as warlord, so are almost always ready to assist the rebels. You might have seen this earlier at the encounter that Icefurr and Leo Gundar had with the resistance.
The plantlife is a little more rich in the Southern Region, but that isn’t saying too much. Mostly, that just means there’s dried grass instead of snow in areas furthest south, where Gulrag trained his army.
West Region of Clandon
The Western Region has a simpler history than the North and South do. It originated when a faction of creatures, mostly snow lemmings, mice, and arctic rabbits, broke off from the North Region. They formed a democratic council. As time went on, these smaller animals forged alliances with the creatures of the Mountainous Lands, making them far harder to conquer.
Every once in awhile, they hold an election for a new Council Spokesbeast. This creature is in charge of directing the council, and therefore holds a bit more power than the other councilcreatures. Fourteen Spokesbeasts have ever been in office, and there are two that I’d like you to remember: Redtail Farleaper, and Ferguson K’Lenon.
Redtail Farleaper is of importance to you because he was the rabbit who proposed to form the alliances with the Mountainous Lands and declare war on Eastern Region. He was the eleventh Spokesbeast. By his suggestion, messengers were sent to the Marshall of the Lands to create bonds of trust, and eventually, a mutual defense treaty to protect them in any kind of battle or war. Also under the guiding paw of Farleaper, the first attack to gain land from East Region was ordered. Ever since, conflicts have been constant and perennial.
Ferguson K’Lenon is of greater significance. He was the one to begin attacks Gulrag Northwind’s father’s southern borders, and aiding the rebels. He believed that the warlords were a blight upon Clandon as a whole, and they should be subdued. K’Lenon’s son and grandson continued this mission. He took office as Spokesbeast directly after Farleaper.
As I said before, Western Region is almost completely populated by arctic lemmings, white rabbits, and mice: the smaller animals. Their birds are mostly terns and puffins. That’s about it for the animals. As to their tendency to battle, these creatures don’t like to fight. However, they do keep a small garrison for those who are actually good warriors.
The plant life is far more rich than that of the South and North. The farther west you move, the more evergreens and bushes you find, until there is absolutely no snow at all.
East Region of Clandon
The East Region has almost the same story as the West: they broke off from the Southern Region, and formed alliances with two other small areas. These other places were Therennia and the Plainsterritories. This way, they were also protected against attack and so were the two others. They also have a council, but no Spokesbeast or anything of the sort. So, I have nothing else of interest for you here.
The animals of the Eastern Region are the same as the Western Region, but their birds are sparrows. Their plant life is basically the same as the South Region of Clandon.
OTHER LANDS
The Mountainous Lands of Clandon
The Mountainous Lands, as their name suggests, contain a lot of mountains. They have always been independent, the historians of Clandon say. This area covers the entire west edge of the continent.
The Mountainous Lands are also called the Land of Mystery, for no one really knows much about their origin, the military strength of their government, how the government is really organized, or all the types of animals there. There are only a few things that are known for sure.
The main animal species living there is the polar bear. This creature’s strength in battle is what makes them such a valuable asset to the Western Region. Instead of being governed by a king, they are ruled by an emperor. Nocreature really knows the rest of the hierarchy.
The Plainsterritories of Clandon
Again, the name gives away what most of the landscape is: plains. This place covers almost a third of the eastern branch of the Clandonian continent. It’s no secret that the residents of this land are governed by their own warlord. He isn’t as powerful as Gulrag is, but he is strong enough to keep the Plainsterritories to himself. If Kallenian Snapclaw keeps to himself, so will the warlord of what used to be Clandoran.
Before Snapclaw conquered the Plainsterritories, they were ruled by a king. However, the Territories were easy to take because the king had no real power over what happened in his large, flat savannah of a kingdom. Usually, the animals living there just kept to their own small villages and townships.
The animals of the plains include jackals (like Kallenian), foxes, hawks, and badgers: mostly large animals. The plantlife is mostly long grass and a few trees, as can be expected.
Therennia
Therennia, interestingly, is not a part of the overall Clandon area, and is never referred to as Clandon. Actually, it’s not even attached to the continent. It’s a large island off the coast of the Plainsterritories and East Region. The animals of Therennia are mongoose, snakes, red pandas, and actual pandas. Due to its size and habitat, the population is dense but fewer than you would think. Still, the alliance with East Region is invaluable to both sides.
All the creatures together make decisions together. However, they do have a militia-based army with full-time commanders. They need it to uphold their mutual defense treaty with Eastern Region and to defend themselves from the likes of Gulrag Northwind and Kallenian Snapclaw.
The plant life of Therennia is based on jungle trees, ferns, ground plants, and other forest growth. This makes it inhospitable to the creatures on the mainland, who are used to very cold climate year-round, and habitable to the animals who live there. The snakes, pandas, and mongoose could never survive on Clandon, but some do manage to live in the Plainsterritories.
*****
There you have it. A description of the history, residents, and government of the different areas, territories, and regions of Clandon, land of ice. I hope it helps you understand the tales of the Rogue Captain.
A Note From the Author: Clandon and the Real World
Clandon’s geography and climate has no relation to the way our world acts. For instance, you read that the warmest climates are in the east, and the coldest in the north and west, even though the west has the most plant life on the mainland. See? It makes no sense to you. However, it makes sense to the residents of the countries themselves, so bear with me.
Resistance, Icefurr?
The otters were, indeed, friendly. “Aye, mate, we’re from the resistance. The branch up north,” the first one said.
“What do you want me for?” Icefurr asked.
“We want you to join us!” another one said. On his back was strapped a shield of different colors than the ones that the Rogue Captain had seen in South Region. Instead of silver with a green design, it was blue with the same design in white. Arctic colors, Icefurr realized. North was the coldest out of all the regions, with the exception of the Mountainous Lands.
“Join you? I have nothing to do with North or South Regions. I won’t join you against Gulrag. No matter if I’m a prince, or ruler of Clandoran, or anything. I’m done fighting with this issue. I’ve made up my mind. If anything, I’m fine with being the Rogue Captain,” the arctic fox said. He felt exactly as he spoke. He just wanted time to himself.
“Mate, there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it,” the leader said. “At least come wid’ us.” He nodded in an easterly direction. “We’ve got a roaring campfire and food.” Icefurr thought for a moment.
Finally, he came to a conclusion. “I’ll come. If I’m not helping you, then I won’t ask what you want me for, but I’m starving,” he chuckled. He slung his pack over his shoulder, picked up his Rogue Captain shield and sword, and followed the pack of otters in the direction pointed out earlier.
After about half an hour of trekking, they’d arrived at a small camp, near the border. Another group of otters sat around a bonfire and roasted some fish wrapped in pine bark. Icefurr sniffed the air in appreciation.
The leader of the otters, who Icefurr now knew to be named Whiplash, yelled. “Alright, otters, off your tails! Rogue Captain’s ‘ere!”
All of the sea otters stood by the fire and spun around. “Aye, so ‘e is!” one cheered. “Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!”
The rest of the rebel fighters replied heartily. “Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!” Each raised a battle axe and blue shield.
Icefurr just laughed. These were jolly otters. He wouldn’t mind being at least friends with them for a while. He sat down at the invitation of Whiplash, and also accepted a stick with a bark-wrapped fish. A perch. “Where’d you get these fish? This is West Region. Lakes and ponds are in Eastern Region,” he commented.
Whiplash just winked. “We’re otters. What’d you expect?” He bit into his fish and ripped the bark off with a chunk of soft white meat. “Aye, that’s good!”
Icefurr followed suit. The perch was delicious! He quickly devoured his.
For two more days, Icefurr stayed at the camp, making friends with the otters but still refusing to join the resistance. “I don’t want more problems,” he’d say gently. Or rather, as gently as he could.
Finally, on the second morning, Whiplash took him aside. “Mate, we need to talk.”
Icefurr was hesitant. “Er . . . yes?”
The otter took him aside, away from the others. “You can’t abandon your people, or your heritage. It isn’t done that way.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Swiftblade, that we need you, and you can’t run from that. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want problems. Problems will come to you. If you don’t come, then we’ll be without a head and will never conquer Warlord Northwind,” Whiplash said firmly. “Come with us. Please.”
Icefurr’s mind was in turmoil. They needed him . . . but he didn’t want to need them. He wasn’t even okay with being the Rogue Captain anymore. Maybe he could just disappear in the Mountainous Lands, or the Plainsterritories. But then he would still be running.
“Okay . . . I’ll come.” He turned to the otters. “Clandoran!”
“Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!” they chorused, and cheered, waving their axes.
“What do you want me for?” Icefurr asked.
“We want you to join us!” another one said. On his back was strapped a shield of different colors than the ones that the Rogue Captain had seen in South Region. Instead of silver with a green design, it was blue with the same design in white. Arctic colors, Icefurr realized. North was the coldest out of all the regions, with the exception of the Mountainous Lands.
“Join you? I have nothing to do with North or South Regions. I won’t join you against Gulrag. No matter if I’m a prince, or ruler of Clandoran, or anything. I’m done fighting with this issue. I’ve made up my mind. If anything, I’m fine with being the Rogue Captain,” the arctic fox said. He felt exactly as he spoke. He just wanted time to himself.
“Mate, there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it,” the leader said. “At least come wid’ us.” He nodded in an easterly direction. “We’ve got a roaring campfire and food.” Icefurr thought for a moment.
Finally, he came to a conclusion. “I’ll come. If I’m not helping you, then I won’t ask what you want me for, but I’m starving,” he chuckled. He slung his pack over his shoulder, picked up his Rogue Captain shield and sword, and followed the pack of otters in the direction pointed out earlier.
After about half an hour of trekking, they’d arrived at a small camp, near the border. Another group of otters sat around a bonfire and roasted some fish wrapped in pine bark. Icefurr sniffed the air in appreciation.
The leader of the otters, who Icefurr now knew to be named Whiplash, yelled. “Alright, otters, off your tails! Rogue Captain’s ‘ere!”
All of the sea otters stood by the fire and spun around. “Aye, so ‘e is!” one cheered. “Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!”
The rest of the rebel fighters replied heartily. “Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!” Each raised a battle axe and blue shield.
Icefurr just laughed. These were jolly otters. He wouldn’t mind being at least friends with them for a while. He sat down at the invitation of Whiplash, and also accepted a stick with a bark-wrapped fish. A perch. “Where’d you get these fish? This is West Region. Lakes and ponds are in Eastern Region,” he commented.
Whiplash just winked. “We’re otters. What’d you expect?” He bit into his fish and ripped the bark off with a chunk of soft white meat. “Aye, that’s good!”
Icefurr followed suit. The perch was delicious! He quickly devoured his.
For two more days, Icefurr stayed at the camp, making friends with the otters but still refusing to join the resistance. “I don’t want more problems,” he’d say gently. Or rather, as gently as he could.
Finally, on the second morning, Whiplash took him aside. “Mate, we need to talk.”
Icefurr was hesitant. “Er . . . yes?”
The otter took him aside, away from the others. “You can’t abandon your people, or your heritage. It isn’t done that way.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Swiftblade, that we need you, and you can’t run from that. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want problems. Problems will come to you. If you don’t come, then we’ll be without a head and will never conquer Warlord Northwind,” Whiplash said firmly. “Come with us. Please.”
Icefurr’s mind was in turmoil. They needed him . . . but he didn’t want to need them. He wasn’t even okay with being the Rogue Captain anymore. Maybe he could just disappear in the Mountainous Lands, or the Plainsterritories. But then he would still be running.
“Okay . . . I’ll come.” He turned to the otters. “Clandoran!”
“Clandoran and the Rogue Captain!” they chorused, and cheered, waving their axes.
Reckoning with Reckson
Gulrag Whiptail sat in his tent, brooding over how to infiltrate West Region. It should have been easy enough, but . . .
“Your Honor!” A fox dashed in and fell to the floor in front of the warlord.
“What is it?” the wolverine asked impatiently.
“We’ve been driven out of another township!”
“How?”
“We don’t know! It was late last night, and the guards were all paying rapt attention. Then, all of a sudden, silver and red shafts started coming down at us! After we’d lost five creatures, somebeast released two huge piles of timber that we’d collected for building the wall around the village. Almost a score more animals were crushed, and seven more were injured badly. The rest who hadn’t been killed ran off.
“I went back to see what had happened once everything had quieted down. Nocreature was there, and the only thing I found was this, pinned to a wolf’s chest.” He pulled out a bloodstained arrow, shining with silver metal and fletched with red feathers. It was thrust through a piece of parchment. Gulrag snatched it and glanced at the paper. This was all it said:
The Rogue Captain is coming, and bringing with him a new age . . . one of Clandoran.
Gulrag howled in frustration. “These infernal rebels! And their ‘Rogue Captain’! Who is he? Who by Deathgates is this creature?”
“They say that he’s the king of Clandoran . . .”
“I know that! But who? Who is he? Who . . .” He trailed off. The fox watched nervously as a slow smile spread across the warlord’s face.
“Your Highness?”
“Go get Commander Reckson.”
“Yes, Mightiness!” The fox backed out of the tent and scampered off to find the commander spoken of.
*****
Commander Reckson was the wisest wolf in all of Gulrag Northwind’s army. The wolverine often came to him for advice, so this was nothing new to him. He followed the fox into the tent, brushing the flaps aside and standing boldly in front of Gulrag. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. You know Crigon Retchonit?” he asked.
“Aye!” The wolf smirked. He knew everyone in South Region.
“She knows the old ways? Of the kings that I killed?”
“Aye!” Reckson replied again.
“Go learn everything you can about the Foxwolves,” Gulrag ordered.
The commander turned to go, but was stopped by the warlord’s voice again. “Reckson.” The wolf turned around to sharp claws and a powerful paw lifting him bodily by the neck. Reckson’s eyes grew wide and he tried to say something.
“Don’t overestimate your influence in this army.” The ruthless ruler dropped his commander and pointed, standing over the wolf. “Go!” Reckson’s breath rattled in and out, and he stumbled out of the tent. His pride was gone for now.
It was Gulrag’s turn to smirk. He sat back on his throne, lounging in his red cloak.
*****
Icefurr sat at the end of a long table in an underground cavern, laughing at the story of the most recent escapade. “And then,” an arctic rabbit from North Region explained animatedly, “O’Malley over there let those logs go, screaming something strange that sounded like, ‘Klinkaboodleay!’, or something. Just that made the soldiers turn with looks like this!” The rabbit contorted his face into a sarcastic representation of a stunned armybeast. Icefurr and the others around him laughed even harder. “But when the logs came down at them, they looked like this!” This time, somebeast snorted water out of their nose onto a nearby hare, he was laughing so hard.
“Good work, O’Malley!” Icefurr called out among hoots of laughter. “That’ll get them thinking twice about Western Region!”
Since he came to the rebels, he’d assumed a sort of leadership position. Previously, they’d been overseen by a wolf by the name of Jennter Mc’Kallen. He’d immediately given up his position to the Rogue Captain. Icefurr found that it was easier for him than he’d thought.
They were all gathered in a cavern complex on the intersection mark between North, South, and West Regions. It consisted of a mass dormitory, dining hall, kitchen, and strategy room. This room contained diagrams, models, and demonstration weapons of all kinds.
Now the rebels were all gathered in the dining hall, eating dinner and listening to hilarious and exaggerated accounts of what happened at Conollan Township. Somehow, not all of them seemed completely true.
“Oi, Keefe! Don’t get snot all over my tables!” the chef yelled good-naturedly at the poor fox who’d snorted water.
Once he’d recovered, Keefe called back, “Don’t worry! The only thing with snot on it is Ryder over here!” The hare was, indeed, covered with a nasty mixture of mucus and water. In return for the comment, he gave Keefe a big, wet hug. All the fighters, the otters the most, roared with merriment.
Icefurr looked around him. I did the right thing, he thought. Not only was he accepting his destiny, he had new friends to do it with. The fox had changed, too. He could see that just by looking in the mirror. He wore no longer his silver cloak and travel stained tunic, but now sported a bright chainmail tunic and a surcoat of silver and red. It bore the crest that he’d been given by Jennter when he joined as a knight of Clandoran: the rebel sign in red halfway through the surcoat, then Gulrag’s symbol the other half.
Icefurr had requested it. He’d made it clear that it was very important to him that he not just forget his past, so Jennter soon agreed to his chosen crest.
The Rogue Captain was starting to feel tired, so he retreated to his private chambers next to the dormitories. Then, the foxwolf got down on his knees. He bowed his head.
And started to pray.
The rebels had taught Icefurr quite a few things about old Clandoran. One of these was this: Clandoran wasn’t only ruled by a king, but the king answered to the highest power -- Doranfather.
Clandoran was named for him. Doran was an ancient word that meant all. Therefore, Clandoran literally meant Clan of All. In the same context, Doranfather meant Father of All. Doranfather, or more often referred to as Doran, had created everything. This was who the Rogue Captain was honoring at this very moment.
Icefurr finished and rolled over into his bed. He was out like a light.
*****
Gulrag was woken from his sleep by a screech from outside his tent. He stumbled out of bed, grabbed a random spear from the corner, and flung open the flaps. “Who disturbs me?” he growled.
Reckson held his paws over his ears as an old ermine screamed behind him. “Death cometh to this place!” was what she said. “Doom! Death, death!”
“Silence, old crone!” Gulrag commanded. She shut her mouth, but shook her paws and the bangles on them. The warlord turned to Reckson, who was standing further away in the darkness. “Who is this? Crigon?”
“Aye, lord. She told me all, but then followed me here screaming about death,” Reckson said, moving out of the shadows.
“Meet me in my tent,” the wolverine commanded. “Captain Deathwing!” A huge eagle swooped down from a perch in a nearby tree. “Have three of your guards watch this ermine. Make sure she doesn’t leave.” Deathwing nodded and screeched, calling a group of mountain kites.
Gulrag turned and walked back into his tent. Reckson stood in front of him, paw on lance. “What did she tell you?”
“She told me that the Foxwolves answered to the Doranfather, and he was who gave them their power. You know of this, lord. Your back . . .”
“I know!” Gulrag spat. “Mention it again, and I will impale you on your own lance.”
“Yes, lord.” Reckson backed away.
“A name! Give me a name! I vowed to never know the name of the king I killed, but it shan't matter. By Ending, tell me!” Gulrag picked the spear back up.
“Swiftblade! Mc'Kenthon Swiftblade! That was his name!” Reckson said hurriedly. He stumbled backwards away from Gulrag, tripped, and scrambled out of the tent door as fast as he could. Gulrag put down the spear.
“Icefurr . . .” Gulrag sneered. “The runaway. So, he’s this ‘Rogue Captain’.
He thought for a moment. "That explains a lot,” the wolverine mused out loud.
“Your Honor!” A fox dashed in and fell to the floor in front of the warlord.
“What is it?” the wolverine asked impatiently.
“We’ve been driven out of another township!”
“How?”
“We don’t know! It was late last night, and the guards were all paying rapt attention. Then, all of a sudden, silver and red shafts started coming down at us! After we’d lost five creatures, somebeast released two huge piles of timber that we’d collected for building the wall around the village. Almost a score more animals were crushed, and seven more were injured badly. The rest who hadn’t been killed ran off.
“I went back to see what had happened once everything had quieted down. Nocreature was there, and the only thing I found was this, pinned to a wolf’s chest.” He pulled out a bloodstained arrow, shining with silver metal and fletched with red feathers. It was thrust through a piece of parchment. Gulrag snatched it and glanced at the paper. This was all it said:
The Rogue Captain is coming, and bringing with him a new age . . . one of Clandoran.
Gulrag howled in frustration. “These infernal rebels! And their ‘Rogue Captain’! Who is he? Who by Deathgates is this creature?”
“They say that he’s the king of Clandoran . . .”
“I know that! But who? Who is he? Who . . .” He trailed off. The fox watched nervously as a slow smile spread across the warlord’s face.
“Your Highness?”
“Go get Commander Reckson.”
“Yes, Mightiness!” The fox backed out of the tent and scampered off to find the commander spoken of.
*****
Commander Reckson was the wisest wolf in all of Gulrag Northwind’s army. The wolverine often came to him for advice, so this was nothing new to him. He followed the fox into the tent, brushing the flaps aside and standing boldly in front of Gulrag. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. You know Crigon Retchonit?” he asked.
“Aye!” The wolf smirked. He knew everyone in South Region.
“She knows the old ways? Of the kings that I killed?”
“Aye!” Reckson replied again.
“Go learn everything you can about the Foxwolves,” Gulrag ordered.
The commander turned to go, but was stopped by the warlord’s voice again. “Reckson.” The wolf turned around to sharp claws and a powerful paw lifting him bodily by the neck. Reckson’s eyes grew wide and he tried to say something.
“Don’t overestimate your influence in this army.” The ruthless ruler dropped his commander and pointed, standing over the wolf. “Go!” Reckson’s breath rattled in and out, and he stumbled out of the tent. His pride was gone for now.
It was Gulrag’s turn to smirk. He sat back on his throne, lounging in his red cloak.
*****
Icefurr sat at the end of a long table in an underground cavern, laughing at the story of the most recent escapade. “And then,” an arctic rabbit from North Region explained animatedly, “O’Malley over there let those logs go, screaming something strange that sounded like, ‘Klinkaboodleay!’, or something. Just that made the soldiers turn with looks like this!” The rabbit contorted his face into a sarcastic representation of a stunned armybeast. Icefurr and the others around him laughed even harder. “But when the logs came down at them, they looked like this!” This time, somebeast snorted water out of their nose onto a nearby hare, he was laughing so hard.
“Good work, O’Malley!” Icefurr called out among hoots of laughter. “That’ll get them thinking twice about Western Region!”
Since he came to the rebels, he’d assumed a sort of leadership position. Previously, they’d been overseen by a wolf by the name of Jennter Mc’Kallen. He’d immediately given up his position to the Rogue Captain. Icefurr found that it was easier for him than he’d thought.
They were all gathered in a cavern complex on the intersection mark between North, South, and West Regions. It consisted of a mass dormitory, dining hall, kitchen, and strategy room. This room contained diagrams, models, and demonstration weapons of all kinds.
Now the rebels were all gathered in the dining hall, eating dinner and listening to hilarious and exaggerated accounts of what happened at Conollan Township. Somehow, not all of them seemed completely true.
“Oi, Keefe! Don’t get snot all over my tables!” the chef yelled good-naturedly at the poor fox who’d snorted water.
Once he’d recovered, Keefe called back, “Don’t worry! The only thing with snot on it is Ryder over here!” The hare was, indeed, covered with a nasty mixture of mucus and water. In return for the comment, he gave Keefe a big, wet hug. All the fighters, the otters the most, roared with merriment.
Icefurr looked around him. I did the right thing, he thought. Not only was he accepting his destiny, he had new friends to do it with. The fox had changed, too. He could see that just by looking in the mirror. He wore no longer his silver cloak and travel stained tunic, but now sported a bright chainmail tunic and a surcoat of silver and red. It bore the crest that he’d been given by Jennter when he joined as a knight of Clandoran: the rebel sign in red halfway through the surcoat, then Gulrag’s symbol the other half.
Icefurr had requested it. He’d made it clear that it was very important to him that he not just forget his past, so Jennter soon agreed to his chosen crest.
The Rogue Captain was starting to feel tired, so he retreated to his private chambers next to the dormitories. Then, the foxwolf got down on his knees. He bowed his head.
And started to pray.
The rebels had taught Icefurr quite a few things about old Clandoran. One of these was this: Clandoran wasn’t only ruled by a king, but the king answered to the highest power -- Doranfather.
Clandoran was named for him. Doran was an ancient word that meant all. Therefore, Clandoran literally meant Clan of All. In the same context, Doranfather meant Father of All. Doranfather, or more often referred to as Doran, had created everything. This was who the Rogue Captain was honoring at this very moment.
Icefurr finished and rolled over into his bed. He was out like a light.
*****
Gulrag was woken from his sleep by a screech from outside his tent. He stumbled out of bed, grabbed a random spear from the corner, and flung open the flaps. “Who disturbs me?” he growled.
Reckson held his paws over his ears as an old ermine screamed behind him. “Death cometh to this place!” was what she said. “Doom! Death, death!”
“Silence, old crone!” Gulrag commanded. She shut her mouth, but shook her paws and the bangles on them. The warlord turned to Reckson, who was standing further away in the darkness. “Who is this? Crigon?”
“Aye, lord. She told me all, but then followed me here screaming about death,” Reckson said, moving out of the shadows.
“Meet me in my tent,” the wolverine commanded. “Captain Deathwing!” A huge eagle swooped down from a perch in a nearby tree. “Have three of your guards watch this ermine. Make sure she doesn’t leave.” Deathwing nodded and screeched, calling a group of mountain kites.
Gulrag turned and walked back into his tent. Reckson stood in front of him, paw on lance. “What did she tell you?”
“She told me that the Foxwolves answered to the Doranfather, and he was who gave them their power. You know of this, lord. Your back . . .”
“I know!” Gulrag spat. “Mention it again, and I will impale you on your own lance.”
“Yes, lord.” Reckson backed away.
“A name! Give me a name! I vowed to never know the name of the king I killed, but it shan't matter. By Ending, tell me!” Gulrag picked the spear back up.
“Swiftblade! Mc'Kenthon Swiftblade! That was his name!” Reckson said hurriedly. He stumbled backwards away from Gulrag, tripped, and scrambled out of the tent door as fast as he could. Gulrag put down the spear.
“Icefurr . . .” Gulrag sneered. “The runaway. So, he’s this ‘Rogue Captain’.
He thought for a moment. "That explains a lot,” the wolverine mused out loud.
"King"
Icefurr woke to the hushed voices of a pair of otters outside his door.
“You tell ‘im, mate!”
“No, you tell ‘im!” The foxwolf crept to the door, put his mouth to the keyhole, and whispered along with them.
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, tell ‘im that the force we sent out . . .” The otter trailed off. “Oops.” Icefurr slammed the door open.
“What happened to them?”
“They haven’t come back.” Jennter was walking down the hall towards them. “We sent them out two nights ago to help the smaller forces on the border of Eastern Region. We still haven’t heard from them.” The wolf pointed for the otters to leave. They both nodded, their chain mail jingling as they left.
“Have we sent anybeast after them?” Icefurr asked. He was only dressed in a light tunic, so he closed the door as Jennter kept talking through the door.
“No. We’re planning to today,” the wolf said through the door. Icefurr pulled on his mail and surcoat, then slung his shield and sword over his back. Then he added a pair of tough leather boots, a helmet, and strong steel gauntlets to the gear. He opened the door.
“I’m going with them.” The foxwolf brushed past Jennter and walked down to the hall.
“He cares too much,” Jennter muttered. “He is a good leader.”
*****
About two hours later, Icefurr was jogging beside a troop of wolves and otters, the stronger rebels. Above them flew five or six kites and eagles. They were there to watch out for trouble, and stop any if it came too close. “Which way now, Captain?” an otter asked, running up beside the foxwolf.
Icefurr pointed north and east. “The village is that way,” he shouted, and the whole company made a slight turn. The Rogue Captain did some quick mental math in his head, and estimated that they’d arrive in another hour or so.
He was exactly right. Judging by the winter sun’s position, no more than an hour and a quarter had passed by the time they sited small roofs and smoke from chimneys in the distance. “Speed up, and not a sound,” a wolf ordered. He was a lieutenant. Icefurr nodded in confirmation, and the rebels broke into dead run.
When they reached the village, they all skidded to a halt. Nothing was left. The roofs that they’d seen were falling apart, and the smoke was smoke from a huge fire. It had died down, but was still burning. Icefurr looked around at the carnage. Dead bodies of sparrows, lemmings, and mice littered the ground, draped over fences and inside ruins.
The group walked through the evidence of destruction, averting their eyes from the more horrific scenes. Finally, they came to the biggest building in the complex. It was round, and had burned down completely. Icefurr could only distinguish its outline, and what lay inside . . . the foxwolf retched.
The wolf lieutenant, Santena Ironpaw, backed away in terror. “Who would do this? It looks like they were . . . locked inside . . . and burned alive!”
All Icefurr could distinguish in the mess were the shields: all blue and green and silver and white. Piercing one of the shields was an arrow. Icefurr yanked it out and took a closer look. It was silver, fletched with red: one of his own. It matched exactly the arrows in his quiver at his side. Rolled around it was a piece of yellowed parchment.
Santena walked up behind the Rogue Captain, taking deep breaths. He was obviously younger than Icefurr, maybe seventeen, and hadn’t seen much bloodshed. “What is it, Commander?” the wolf asked. He looked at the arrow, then at the quiver at Icefurr’s side. “It’s one of yours!”
The message read thus:
“King” Swiftblade. So, you’re this Rogue Captain. I thought you dead months ago. Oh well, nobeast is correct all the time.
Meet me where you left, at sundown tomorrow . . . alone. If not, then I won’t stop until I kill you and take all of Clandon.
Gulrag Northwind, Warlord of Clandon
Icefurr led his troop back and didn’t tell anycreature else until the next day.
*****
“What?” Jennter was angry. “He expects you to go alone! I can’t let you! You’re too important to Clandoran.”
Icefurr ignored him as he pulled on his mail and clasped his helmet with gauntleted paws. His sword glinted in torchlight at his side, and his shield swung back and forth on his back. Jennter stayed the Rogue Captain’s paw as he reached for his boots. “At least take somebeast with you,” he begged. He was bigger than Icefurr, but knew that he couldn’t stop the foxwolf if he was determined. Icefurr had been raised to fight.
“There’s only one creature that I would agree to have at my side in battle with Gulrag, and he isn’t here. I’m going alone,” Icefurr said, and moved out into the dormitory. The rebels were all talking, but went silent as their commander passed.
“Where’s he going?” O’Malley asked Keefe, who was beside him. Icefurr was out of hearing range, almost out of the cavern, with Jennter behind him.
“I don’t know, but wherever it is, Mc’Kallen’s not to happy about it,” the fox answered.
“Who would you bring?” Jennter asked, now giving up all hope of persuading his commander to stay.
“My final soldier.” With that, Icefurr swept out of the hidden entrance to the cavern, which was screened by bushes. Jennter got a face-full of leaves for his trouble.
“You tell ‘im, mate!”
“No, you tell ‘im!” The foxwolf crept to the door, put his mouth to the keyhole, and whispered along with them.
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, tell ‘im that the force we sent out . . .” The otter trailed off. “Oops.” Icefurr slammed the door open.
“What happened to them?”
“They haven’t come back.” Jennter was walking down the hall towards them. “We sent them out two nights ago to help the smaller forces on the border of Eastern Region. We still haven’t heard from them.” The wolf pointed for the otters to leave. They both nodded, their chain mail jingling as they left.
“Have we sent anybeast after them?” Icefurr asked. He was only dressed in a light tunic, so he closed the door as Jennter kept talking through the door.
“No. We’re planning to today,” the wolf said through the door. Icefurr pulled on his mail and surcoat, then slung his shield and sword over his back. Then he added a pair of tough leather boots, a helmet, and strong steel gauntlets to the gear. He opened the door.
“I’m going with them.” The foxwolf brushed past Jennter and walked down to the hall.
“He cares too much,” Jennter muttered. “He is a good leader.”
*****
About two hours later, Icefurr was jogging beside a troop of wolves and otters, the stronger rebels. Above them flew five or six kites and eagles. They were there to watch out for trouble, and stop any if it came too close. “Which way now, Captain?” an otter asked, running up beside the foxwolf.
Icefurr pointed north and east. “The village is that way,” he shouted, and the whole company made a slight turn. The Rogue Captain did some quick mental math in his head, and estimated that they’d arrive in another hour or so.
He was exactly right. Judging by the winter sun’s position, no more than an hour and a quarter had passed by the time they sited small roofs and smoke from chimneys in the distance. “Speed up, and not a sound,” a wolf ordered. He was a lieutenant. Icefurr nodded in confirmation, and the rebels broke into dead run.
When they reached the village, they all skidded to a halt. Nothing was left. The roofs that they’d seen were falling apart, and the smoke was smoke from a huge fire. It had died down, but was still burning. Icefurr looked around at the carnage. Dead bodies of sparrows, lemmings, and mice littered the ground, draped over fences and inside ruins.
The group walked through the evidence of destruction, averting their eyes from the more horrific scenes. Finally, they came to the biggest building in the complex. It was round, and had burned down completely. Icefurr could only distinguish its outline, and what lay inside . . . the foxwolf retched.
The wolf lieutenant, Santena Ironpaw, backed away in terror. “Who would do this? It looks like they were . . . locked inside . . . and burned alive!”
All Icefurr could distinguish in the mess were the shields: all blue and green and silver and white. Piercing one of the shields was an arrow. Icefurr yanked it out and took a closer look. It was silver, fletched with red: one of his own. It matched exactly the arrows in his quiver at his side. Rolled around it was a piece of yellowed parchment.
Santena walked up behind the Rogue Captain, taking deep breaths. He was obviously younger than Icefurr, maybe seventeen, and hadn’t seen much bloodshed. “What is it, Commander?” the wolf asked. He looked at the arrow, then at the quiver at Icefurr’s side. “It’s one of yours!”
The message read thus:
“King” Swiftblade. So, you’re this Rogue Captain. I thought you dead months ago. Oh well, nobeast is correct all the time.
Meet me where you left, at sundown tomorrow . . . alone. If not, then I won’t stop until I kill you and take all of Clandon.
Gulrag Northwind, Warlord of Clandon
Icefurr led his troop back and didn’t tell anycreature else until the next day.
*****
“What?” Jennter was angry. “He expects you to go alone! I can’t let you! You’re too important to Clandoran.”
Icefurr ignored him as he pulled on his mail and clasped his helmet with gauntleted paws. His sword glinted in torchlight at his side, and his shield swung back and forth on his back. Jennter stayed the Rogue Captain’s paw as he reached for his boots. “At least take somebeast with you,” he begged. He was bigger than Icefurr, but knew that he couldn’t stop the foxwolf if he was determined. Icefurr had been raised to fight.
“There’s only one creature that I would agree to have at my side in battle with Gulrag, and he isn’t here. I’m going alone,” Icefurr said, and moved out into the dormitory. The rebels were all talking, but went silent as their commander passed.
“Where’s he going?” O’Malley asked Keefe, who was beside him. Icefurr was out of hearing range, almost out of the cavern, with Jennter behind him.
“I don’t know, but wherever it is, Mc’Kallen’s not to happy about it,” the fox answered.
“Who would you bring?” Jennter asked, now giving up all hope of persuading his commander to stay.
“My final soldier.” With that, Icefurr swept out of the hidden entrance to the cavern, which was screened by bushes. Jennter got a face-full of leaves for his trouble.
I Have a Father
Icefurr strode off towards South Region. It would take him two or three hours at a run to reach the village. Sundown was coming quickly. The foxwolf sped up to a sprint, but had to settle for a jog, as his armor was weighing him down.
The sun was almost gone from the horizon when Icefurr had the old rebel settlement in sight. His paws barely kicked up snow as he finally neared the edge of the wreckage. Since he had been here last, months ago, the houses had fallen down, the wall was burnt up, and everything was strewn about. Icefurr had to cover his muzzle with his sleeve. The smell -- he didn’t want to think about what it was from -- was horrible, and reeked of decay and terrible things.
The Rogue Captain looked around, but didn’t see a soul. Where are you, Gulrag? he thought. He sniffed the smelly air. Just rot, but besides that . . . something else . . .
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a laugh. “Captain Swiftblade, hello!” Gulrag stepped out from behind the framework of a hut. He flicked it, and the whole thing fell down. He was still wearing the same red cloak that he always did, and a chain mail tunic. He carried a massive scimitar. Icefurr looked at it and drew his own curved sword.
“What do you want?”
“Among other things? Your death. However, that’s of no consequence right now,” the wolverine chuckled. “Right now, we can discuss your probable surrender.”
“Why would I do that?” Icefurr growled. He was still taking in the scents around him.
“If you do, I promise that I will leave North Region alone.”
Icefurr started. This was unexpected; the warlord could still be planning something. He swung his shield around onto his arm. Gulrag looked at his shield, then the surcoat. “Oh! Ha! What’s this?” He pointed a claw at the foxwolf’s chain mail. “How quaint. A badge of rebellion, is it?”
He paused. “Well, what say you?” Gulrag stepped closer. Icefurr stepped back.
“No.”
Gulrag’s face became a mask of fury. “No? NO?!?” He took a huge, round black shield from his back. It made Icefurr’s diamond shield look small. However, Icefurr noticed something. Gulrag was, indeed, thicker than Icefurr and very tall, but Icefurr’s wolf ancestry caused him to stand at the same height as the wolverine. “If you won’t give up, then you WILL fight!” the wolverine yelled. He swung the scimitar in circles above his head, then brought it down in what would have been a killing stroke if Icefurr hadn’t jumped out of the way. The foxwolf looked about hastily. Ermine, wolves, hawks, and even a few otters surrounded him.
He was to die this day. “Doranfather, help me!” he breathed.
Suddenly, a shout came from the snowy hills behind the Rogue Captain. Blue and green and silver and white all flashed behind him as rebelcreatures poured down into the village. “No!” Gulrag cried. “You said that you’d come alone!”
Icefurr looked around, then jumped at the wolverine. “I’m never alone!” He jabbed with his sword.
Gulrag deflected it with his shield. “I will make you alone!” he screamed. His scimitar thrust towards Icefurr, catching him in the footpaw. The foxwolf smiled.
“I have something that you don’t, Gulrag, something that you can never have!” The Rogue Captain suddenly looked much taller than Gulrag. The wolverine backed away, the clamor of battle almost drowning out Icefurr’s voice.
“I have a Father.”
“I killed him!” The wolverine’s fury was evident.
“No! He cannot be killed!” Icefurr’s voice was rising in power. Disregarding the wounds being inflicted on him by the warlord’s creatures, he pushed towards Gulrag. “Aah!” he suddenly breathed.
A fox cackled behind him, with a spear in his paw. It was thrust through Icefurr’s back. An otter struck the fox down, but the damage was done. Icefurr sank to the ground.
Strike the ground, Rogue Captain. Icefurr could hear a voice speaking to him. “Doran?” he whispered.
Yes.
“He is Doranfather! Father of all . . .” Something flew out of his mouth. "Akthali Doran eqtana rithna!" With one final burst of strength, Icefurr drove his sword down deep into the snow, ice, and earth.
Gulrag screamed, “NO!” This had happened before; scars twisted down his back, evidence of another king, in another battle, with another sword. He ran, paws pounding the cold ground and scimitar batting away creatures in his way.
A blast of white-hot light rippled out through the air in a circle around the dying prince. The enemies of Doran’s creatures shrieked in pain as their bodies disappeared, leaving nothing but armor and weapons. Gulrag was last. His back twisted in agony as the light tore across his hulking muscles, burning his fur and sending him to Darkdoor, where all persecutors of Doranfather’s children went. “Nooo--!” His scream was cut off as he vanished.
Icefurr had no time to wonder at what had just happened. His blood was almost run out, and his eyes were getting misty. “Captain!” a voice yelled, and Jennter ran to his commander’s side. “No, no! Why? Why did you do it? You knew it was a trap . . .” The big wolf couldn’t stop a tear from running down his cheek.
“Doran’s . . . will . . .” Icefurr’s voice trailed off. “Months . . . of fighting . . . we did it . . . Leo? Where have you been, you old soldier?” Jennter started. What was Icefurr saying? “I’m . . . alone here except for you . . . no, Doran . . .” The brave young foxwolf stopped again, and his eyes misted over.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
The sun was almost gone from the horizon when Icefurr had the old rebel settlement in sight. His paws barely kicked up snow as he finally neared the edge of the wreckage. Since he had been here last, months ago, the houses had fallen down, the wall was burnt up, and everything was strewn about. Icefurr had to cover his muzzle with his sleeve. The smell -- he didn’t want to think about what it was from -- was horrible, and reeked of decay and terrible things.
The Rogue Captain looked around, but didn’t see a soul. Where are you, Gulrag? he thought. He sniffed the smelly air. Just rot, but besides that . . . something else . . .
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a laugh. “Captain Swiftblade, hello!” Gulrag stepped out from behind the framework of a hut. He flicked it, and the whole thing fell down. He was still wearing the same red cloak that he always did, and a chain mail tunic. He carried a massive scimitar. Icefurr looked at it and drew his own curved sword.
“What do you want?”
“Among other things? Your death. However, that’s of no consequence right now,” the wolverine chuckled. “Right now, we can discuss your probable surrender.”
“Why would I do that?” Icefurr growled. He was still taking in the scents around him.
“If you do, I promise that I will leave North Region alone.”
Icefurr started. This was unexpected; the warlord could still be planning something. He swung his shield around onto his arm. Gulrag looked at his shield, then the surcoat. “Oh! Ha! What’s this?” He pointed a claw at the foxwolf’s chain mail. “How quaint. A badge of rebellion, is it?”
He paused. “Well, what say you?” Gulrag stepped closer. Icefurr stepped back.
“No.”
Gulrag’s face became a mask of fury. “No? NO?!?” He took a huge, round black shield from his back. It made Icefurr’s diamond shield look small. However, Icefurr noticed something. Gulrag was, indeed, thicker than Icefurr and very tall, but Icefurr’s wolf ancestry caused him to stand at the same height as the wolverine. “If you won’t give up, then you WILL fight!” the wolverine yelled. He swung the scimitar in circles above his head, then brought it down in what would have been a killing stroke if Icefurr hadn’t jumped out of the way. The foxwolf looked about hastily. Ermine, wolves, hawks, and even a few otters surrounded him.
He was to die this day. “Doranfather, help me!” he breathed.
Suddenly, a shout came from the snowy hills behind the Rogue Captain. Blue and green and silver and white all flashed behind him as rebelcreatures poured down into the village. “No!” Gulrag cried. “You said that you’d come alone!”
Icefurr looked around, then jumped at the wolverine. “I’m never alone!” He jabbed with his sword.
Gulrag deflected it with his shield. “I will make you alone!” he screamed. His scimitar thrust towards Icefurr, catching him in the footpaw. The foxwolf smiled.
“I have something that you don’t, Gulrag, something that you can never have!” The Rogue Captain suddenly looked much taller than Gulrag. The wolverine backed away, the clamor of battle almost drowning out Icefurr’s voice.
“I have a Father.”
“I killed him!” The wolverine’s fury was evident.
“No! He cannot be killed!” Icefurr’s voice was rising in power. Disregarding the wounds being inflicted on him by the warlord’s creatures, he pushed towards Gulrag. “Aah!” he suddenly breathed.
A fox cackled behind him, with a spear in his paw. It was thrust through Icefurr’s back. An otter struck the fox down, but the damage was done. Icefurr sank to the ground.
Strike the ground, Rogue Captain. Icefurr could hear a voice speaking to him. “Doran?” he whispered.
Yes.
“He is Doranfather! Father of all . . .” Something flew out of his mouth. "Akthali Doran eqtana rithna!" With one final burst of strength, Icefurr drove his sword down deep into the snow, ice, and earth.
Gulrag screamed, “NO!” This had happened before; scars twisted down his back, evidence of another king, in another battle, with another sword. He ran, paws pounding the cold ground and scimitar batting away creatures in his way.
A blast of white-hot light rippled out through the air in a circle around the dying prince. The enemies of Doran’s creatures shrieked in pain as their bodies disappeared, leaving nothing but armor and weapons. Gulrag was last. His back twisted in agony as the light tore across his hulking muscles, burning his fur and sending him to Darkdoor, where all persecutors of Doranfather’s children went. “Nooo--!” His scream was cut off as he vanished.
Icefurr had no time to wonder at what had just happened. His blood was almost run out, and his eyes were getting misty. “Captain!” a voice yelled, and Jennter ran to his commander’s side. “No, no! Why? Why did you do it? You knew it was a trap . . .” The big wolf couldn’t stop a tear from running down his cheek.
“Doran’s . . . will . . .” Icefurr’s voice trailed off. “Months . . . of fighting . . . we did it . . . Leo? Where have you been, you old soldier?” Jennter started. What was Icefurr saying? “I’m . . . alone here except for you . . . no, Doran . . .” The brave young foxwolf stopped again, and his eyes misted over.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Shantali!
Icefurr strode down a misty path.
Something strange had happened. One minute, his friends had been trying to keep him alive, pumping his chest and wrapping strips of cloth around his limbs, and the next he was here. The foxwolf’s keen eyesight couldn’t pick anything out except for a bright, soft moon and the path ahead of him.
Even so, everything seemed more beautiful under this light. Everything was quiet, and one or two white flowers were always glistening beside the path. The path itself wasn’t made of rock or earth, but rather silvery grass. Cool water flowed around Icefurr’s paws. The mist drifted along beside him, as if it were a river in its own right. It was still dark, though, and the military-trained soldier didn’t like it.
“I wonder . . .” Icefurr thought for a moment. Doran was always with his children, and one way (though Icefurr had never tried it) was through ancient words, like those that he spoke at the battlefield. Icefurr knew quite a few from his time among the rebels, that drew never-ending strength from Doranfather. If the right intentions were had, and they were spoken through one of royal blood, then something amazing could happen. “Ithiniel sen tiren doran . . .” he said quietly, somewhat unsure, then again, louder. “Ithiniel sen tiren doran!”
The foxwolf was temporarily blinded as a white light filled the air around him. It grew slowly, until it illuminated the path ahead, blending with the moonlight to create something even more wonderful. “Thank you, Doran,” he whispered, and continued down the path. His paw subconsciously reached for his sword and shield.
They stopped, touching nothing. Icefurr felt all over his tunic, and there wasn’t a hint of armor, or weapons of any kind. No signs of battle, not even the wounds that had almost . . . killed him. “I’m dead?” The foxwolf almost fell.
“Yes, you are,” a voice said. The Rogue Captain spun, creating ripples in the water.
A strange creature stood before him. It was as tall as a wolf, but had glowing wings that stretched out behind it, giving off a soft light of their own. Its features were undefined in the mist. “Who are you?” Icefurr inquired warily.
“I am who I will be.”
That didn’t make any sense. “Do you have a name?” the foxwolf asked, now curious.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Why tell you when you already know it?”
Icefurr moved closer. The closer he came, the bigger this creature seemed, yet grew no larger. “I do not believe that we have met,” he answered.
“You believe that you have met me, but never will until you learn to depend on me, and me alone,” the creature said. Another set of wings blossomed from its back. “Yet you have called me Father.”
Icefurr’s jaw dropped. “Doran?” He stumbled back, then fell to the ground, bowing his head.
A soft paw lifted his face. “Gethnoel Swiftblade, I have loved you since the day you were born. I created you. I’ve adored you through all of the things that you have ever done, even under the command of the warlord Gulrag,” Doran said, smiling. That much Icefurr could see.
“Gethnoel?”
“Yes. Your true name.” Doran stood, bringing Icefurr up. “Your mother named you. I named you, through her. She is waiting to see you. She always has been.”
“Can I see her?”
“You’ll have to wait a little longer, son.” Somecreature else strode out of the mist. He looked almost exactly like Icefurr, but with green eyes and silvery fur. “Do you know me? My name is Mc’Kenthon!” He laughed, and hugged Icefurr . . . Gethnoel tightly.
“Father? Father!” Gethnoel hugged Mc’Kenthon back. “Father!” Tears streamed down his face unchecked. He pulled back. “Why can I not see Mother?”
“It is not time yet.” Doran’s shape became suddenly clear. His head was covered by a huge shaggy mane, and golden fur covered his body. Gethnoel could tell, though, that it was just a shape, not his Father’s true form. “I know somebeast else that you would like to see, though!” With that, Doran laughed such a joyful laugh that Gethnoel and Mc’Kenthon couldn’t help joining in. It rung all around them, surrounding them with mirth.
Another voice joined in, a hearty one full of wonderful amazement. “Captain!” Leo Gundar came through the mist. “Shantali!” Gethnoel ran to him and embraced him.
“Shantali!” he replied, echoing the old greeting. “Leo, how . . . when did you . . . Doran?” The prince turned to his creator.
“He came to me on the day that he died, on his way to find you. A sick rebel had come to him two days before, bleeding and on the doorstep of Afterlife, and begging for help. Leo took him in and bandaged his wounds. As he did so, My servant told him of everything: who you were, who I was, and many other things. Immediately, Leo pledged his allegiance to Clandoran and I. He is newly made, in Me!” Doran laughed again.
Gethnoel looked around. “Am I to stay here?” he asked.
“Yes, someday, but now is not your time,” Leo answered him. “You are needed for other purposes, in new Clandoran!”
Doran placed a paw on Gethnoel’s shoulder. “But first, you must learn something.”
“What?”
“It will be difficult, but you must be taught to know Me. Go back the way you came, My son.” Gethnoel turned to ask a question, but his father, Doranfather, and Leo were nowhere in the mist.
*****
Back at the battlefield, Jennter and two other fighters -- Keefe and Ryder -- were carrying Captain Icefurr’s broken body back to the rebel encampment. Tears dripped down the fox’s, wolf’s, and hare’s face.
Suddenly, Icefurr’s mouth opened, and a strangled gasp came out. His eyes shot open. “He’s alive!” Keefe cried, but Ryder stopped him with another exclamation.
“No! Something’s not right!” Indeed, Icefurr’s eyes were still cloudy, and the pupils were black!
*****
Gethnoel looked around. The light was gone, and a wave of darkness was coming towards him. “What . . .?” he whispered. There was only one opening in the fog, and that was the pathway. The foxwolf ran towards it, but the darkness rushed towards him. He sped up. “Aargh!” he screamed. When it touched him, it felt like fire burning his flesh and fur. “Get back! Father! Leo!”
He stumbled away, tripped in the shallows of the water and landing muzzle first in the grass. “Father . . .” he whispered again. The darkness closed in . . .
*****
On the battlefield, Icefurr’s body twisted, and he let out a strained scream. “What’s happening?” Jennter asked frantically. “Get a physician!”
The prince’s eyes suddenly shut, and his breathing calmed.
*****
Gethnoel suddenly had a moment of quiet thought, even as the fire spread over his body. Only one voice could ever command this to leave, and it was the one that he almost always ignored. Only one person could ever drive out darkness, inside and out.
Only, forever, and always one. “Doran! Doranfather!” The call erupted from the Rogue Captain’s mouth. “I love you! Help me! I believe!”
Light flashed around the foxwolf, pushing back against the force of shadows, and swirling around and around him. Finally, it drove the darkness away. White light filled the air.
All at once, Gethnoel felt something enter his soul, like a breath of cool wind, or a never stopping flow of water. “Doran!” he breathed.
My Spirit shall forevermore abide in you, Gethnoel, my servant and son.
*****
Icefurr’s eyes opened. This time, they were silver, and clear as crystal. Jennter watched in wonder as sparks of white light erupted around his captain, and every single wound on the foxwolf closed. When they vanished, Icefurr was standing before his soldiers, smiling.
“Icefurr?” Keefe ventured.
“No longer am I Icefurr, Keefe. I am Gethnoel Swiftblade, King of Clandoran and forever servant of Doranfather.”
Something about him made Jennter want to bow. And he did.
Something strange had happened. One minute, his friends had been trying to keep him alive, pumping his chest and wrapping strips of cloth around his limbs, and the next he was here. The foxwolf’s keen eyesight couldn’t pick anything out except for a bright, soft moon and the path ahead of him.
Even so, everything seemed more beautiful under this light. Everything was quiet, and one or two white flowers were always glistening beside the path. The path itself wasn’t made of rock or earth, but rather silvery grass. Cool water flowed around Icefurr’s paws. The mist drifted along beside him, as if it were a river in its own right. It was still dark, though, and the military-trained soldier didn’t like it.
“I wonder . . .” Icefurr thought for a moment. Doran was always with his children, and one way (though Icefurr had never tried it) was through ancient words, like those that he spoke at the battlefield. Icefurr knew quite a few from his time among the rebels, that drew never-ending strength from Doranfather. If the right intentions were had, and they were spoken through one of royal blood, then something amazing could happen. “Ithiniel sen tiren doran . . .” he said quietly, somewhat unsure, then again, louder. “Ithiniel sen tiren doran!”
The foxwolf was temporarily blinded as a white light filled the air around him. It grew slowly, until it illuminated the path ahead, blending with the moonlight to create something even more wonderful. “Thank you, Doran,” he whispered, and continued down the path. His paw subconsciously reached for his sword and shield.
They stopped, touching nothing. Icefurr felt all over his tunic, and there wasn’t a hint of armor, or weapons of any kind. No signs of battle, not even the wounds that had almost . . . killed him. “I’m dead?” The foxwolf almost fell.
“Yes, you are,” a voice said. The Rogue Captain spun, creating ripples in the water.
A strange creature stood before him. It was as tall as a wolf, but had glowing wings that stretched out behind it, giving off a soft light of their own. Its features were undefined in the mist. “Who are you?” Icefurr inquired warily.
“I am who I will be.”
That didn’t make any sense. “Do you have a name?” the foxwolf asked, now curious.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Why tell you when you already know it?”
Icefurr moved closer. The closer he came, the bigger this creature seemed, yet grew no larger. “I do not believe that we have met,” he answered.
“You believe that you have met me, but never will until you learn to depend on me, and me alone,” the creature said. Another set of wings blossomed from its back. “Yet you have called me Father.”
Icefurr’s jaw dropped. “Doran?” He stumbled back, then fell to the ground, bowing his head.
A soft paw lifted his face. “Gethnoel Swiftblade, I have loved you since the day you were born. I created you. I’ve adored you through all of the things that you have ever done, even under the command of the warlord Gulrag,” Doran said, smiling. That much Icefurr could see.
“Gethnoel?”
“Yes. Your true name.” Doran stood, bringing Icefurr up. “Your mother named you. I named you, through her. She is waiting to see you. She always has been.”
“Can I see her?”
“You’ll have to wait a little longer, son.” Somecreature else strode out of the mist. He looked almost exactly like Icefurr, but with green eyes and silvery fur. “Do you know me? My name is Mc’Kenthon!” He laughed, and hugged Icefurr . . . Gethnoel tightly.
“Father? Father!” Gethnoel hugged Mc’Kenthon back. “Father!” Tears streamed down his face unchecked. He pulled back. “Why can I not see Mother?”
“It is not time yet.” Doran’s shape became suddenly clear. His head was covered by a huge shaggy mane, and golden fur covered his body. Gethnoel could tell, though, that it was just a shape, not his Father’s true form. “I know somebeast else that you would like to see, though!” With that, Doran laughed such a joyful laugh that Gethnoel and Mc’Kenthon couldn’t help joining in. It rung all around them, surrounding them with mirth.
Another voice joined in, a hearty one full of wonderful amazement. “Captain!” Leo Gundar came through the mist. “Shantali!” Gethnoel ran to him and embraced him.
“Shantali!” he replied, echoing the old greeting. “Leo, how . . . when did you . . . Doran?” The prince turned to his creator.
“He came to me on the day that he died, on his way to find you. A sick rebel had come to him two days before, bleeding and on the doorstep of Afterlife, and begging for help. Leo took him in and bandaged his wounds. As he did so, My servant told him of everything: who you were, who I was, and many other things. Immediately, Leo pledged his allegiance to Clandoran and I. He is newly made, in Me!” Doran laughed again.
Gethnoel looked around. “Am I to stay here?” he asked.
“Yes, someday, but now is not your time,” Leo answered him. “You are needed for other purposes, in new Clandoran!”
Doran placed a paw on Gethnoel’s shoulder. “But first, you must learn something.”
“What?”
“It will be difficult, but you must be taught to know Me. Go back the way you came, My son.” Gethnoel turned to ask a question, but his father, Doranfather, and Leo were nowhere in the mist.
*****
Back at the battlefield, Jennter and two other fighters -- Keefe and Ryder -- were carrying Captain Icefurr’s broken body back to the rebel encampment. Tears dripped down the fox’s, wolf’s, and hare’s face.
Suddenly, Icefurr’s mouth opened, and a strangled gasp came out. His eyes shot open. “He’s alive!” Keefe cried, but Ryder stopped him with another exclamation.
“No! Something’s not right!” Indeed, Icefurr’s eyes were still cloudy, and the pupils were black!
*****
Gethnoel looked around. The light was gone, and a wave of darkness was coming towards him. “What . . .?” he whispered. There was only one opening in the fog, and that was the pathway. The foxwolf ran towards it, but the darkness rushed towards him. He sped up. “Aargh!” he screamed. When it touched him, it felt like fire burning his flesh and fur. “Get back! Father! Leo!”
He stumbled away, tripped in the shallows of the water and landing muzzle first in the grass. “Father . . .” he whispered again. The darkness closed in . . .
*****
On the battlefield, Icefurr’s body twisted, and he let out a strained scream. “What’s happening?” Jennter asked frantically. “Get a physician!”
The prince’s eyes suddenly shut, and his breathing calmed.
*****
Gethnoel suddenly had a moment of quiet thought, even as the fire spread over his body. Only one voice could ever command this to leave, and it was the one that he almost always ignored. Only one person could ever drive out darkness, inside and out.
Only, forever, and always one. “Doran! Doranfather!” The call erupted from the Rogue Captain’s mouth. “I love you! Help me! I believe!”
Light flashed around the foxwolf, pushing back against the force of shadows, and swirling around and around him. Finally, it drove the darkness away. White light filled the air.
All at once, Gethnoel felt something enter his soul, like a breath of cool wind, or a never stopping flow of water. “Doran!” he breathed.
My Spirit shall forevermore abide in you, Gethnoel, my servant and son.
*****
Icefurr’s eyes opened. This time, they were silver, and clear as crystal. Jennter watched in wonder as sparks of white light erupted around his captain, and every single wound on the foxwolf closed. When they vanished, Icefurr was standing before his soldiers, smiling.
“Icefurr?” Keefe ventured.
“No longer am I Icefurr, Keefe. I am Gethnoel Swiftblade, King of Clandoran and forever servant of Doranfather.”
Something about him made Jennter want to bow. And he did.
The Rogue Captain Chronicles is © 2016 WhiteFire.