FENRER

"Thank you, Fenrer."

"What for?"

The light drizzle of raindrops slid down his cheeks as they tread the duskpath, the much older road which connected Sivaport to the several communities within the Goldwood, with Reyn's horse trotting beside his. Thick roots dug themselves underneath the damp soil, feeding the course-barked trees full of golden leaves. The scouts Reyn sent forward came back with minimal information — a heavy silence around Sungrove. With their hunting party on the move, Fenrer kept an eye on the undergrowth. Every so often, he dismounted the horse to squeeze the wet dirt, allowing it to slip between his gloved fingers. It lacked a hint of crimson, and the rainy freshness betrayed nothing of a Derelict's presence. But that doesn't necessarily mean there isn't any, or hasn't been any around. In the saddle once more, he caught up with the others.

The duskpath took on a steep incline the horses tread with ease, but when they reached the peaks, he frowned down at the grove he once called home. The creek carved its way through the sunny valley. Reyn adjusted his grip on the reins when his own horse shifted. "I want to thank you for your words earlier, and for your counsel. I was hesitant at first, but it was the right call in the end. I'm hoping my talks with the residents of Wolford will make them more open to negotiations," he replied. "It's been a very long time since I've been here."

"It's too bad we didn't have much luck on the road here when it came to game," one of his housecarls commented. "Are we to stop at Sungrove to take stock of the situation for ourselves?"

"Fenrer gave me a decent report of what might be needed, but a second eye never hurt anyone," Reyn told their group. "I want to make Sungrove's defenses stronger, so as to not have a repeat of what happened in the future, if that time ever comes to pass." His gaze went downcast, but Fenrer found a newfound hope settling in his heart. "Come. Faster we get this done, the faster we can return to Sivaport and lighten the burden on the Storm Wardens." Reyn took the lead with ease, and Fenrer nudged his horse forward to catch up to the warrior king.

Down the craggy paths, with the horses taking their care over the stones. Underneath the outcrops which once protected him, Adara, and Yuven from rain. Until they reached level ground, to the split gate, burnt from the ground, struck by siege weaponry. "The raiders might've moved slowly as to bypass the defenses," Reyn commented with a point at the ruined guard towers, thick and overgrown with lichen, some tree branches striking through them. "Used the cover of the night to do such. Fenrer, are you aware if any of the magick defenses went off... had there been any?"

Arrows of war whizzed through his mind, set alight, but he shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't remember, Your Grace." He brought himself forward, past Reyn, settling the nerves of his horse when it gave two quick huffs at the thick undergrowth ahead of them. "It happened very fast. If the magick defenses had been set off... it didn't keep them out. Their first barrage was their most powerful one. Any barriers set..." He gripped the reins for reality when a green glyph and a massive shape protected him from the piercing death the arrows brought to others around him. He released a breath, then said, "We'll create new barriers, then. We didn't have a particularly robust magitek generator, as far as I can recall."

Reyn nodded. "Then let's get to Sungrove proper and we'll discuss it. Maybe find some blueprints."

The light mist from before had long dissipated. Auras danced around his visions, a layer over the empty shells of death. His horse twitched, another huff leaving its nose, but he rubbed its neck, to comfort it and himself. A soft whistle left his lips, and the horse relaxed. He kept an eye on the undergrowth all the same. His crescent blade hung in the saddle sheathe, while the dawnblade remained strapped to his back. As some of the other housecarls moved forward through the break of the trees, he went to join them, but an icy chill crawled down his spine, through his heart, and scattered the starry burrs digging into his skin. Gooseflesh raised over his skin, and he jolted when Reyn twisted his head to him. "Pyren?"

Yuven? Fenrer rubbed his leather armor, thumbing the strap of medication and essence he kept on hand. It disappeared as fast as the anxious maelstrom of white formed, and he pushed through it to shake his head at Reyn, taking up the lead to Sungrove's ruined walls. Old fabric remained on the fences, but the noise drowned out with the deep, sunlit hum as Reyn said something to the closest housecarl, dismounting his horse to strap it to one of the posts by the caved in stables. Against the icy touch, a different searing burn dug into his spine, the white noise overwhelming, until someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Fenrer?" Reyn asked.

He pushed out the sensations once more as he grabbed his crescent blade from the saddle sheathe. "Let's stop by the mead hall. I think we should work on that while we're here. Make it liveable for builders when they arrive with supplies," he explained, forcing a smile on his face. It pulled at his skin, but Reyn nodded at him and passed on his instructions as they passed through Sungrove. His steps heavy, following the same path a younger boy crossed. Dad! Dad! The boy screeched through the constant screaming and tar-soaked flowers. Fenrer tapped his temples, the icy sweep over his skin failing to serve as a comfort as they made their way up the steps to the Pyren manor, half of the wing caved in, but the other half remained standing. Right... I'll need to fix the wall I was thrown into... can't have the place collapsing on anyone inside.

"Here we are," Reyn said, and opened the stubborn door with another housecarl. In the middle, the hearth died to silver embers. Loose stones and toppled supports put pressure on the weakened building. Some of the housecarls quickly got to work relieving said pressure on the foundations. "We'll have a rest. Now, Fenrer, I know you mentioned that there had been a haugbui here. Do you sense anything?"

Fenrer gazed out into the silver-tinted darkness, set alight by the moon, inching the light across the center of town. The whisper in the trees sent a sense of familiar comfort, the rustle a soothing tone against his bursts of cold anxiousness. Owls hooted in the depths of the boughs, but all else remained quiet. He shook his head. "Nothing but us," he confirmed with a hand on the torn doorframe. "I'd have to take a walk around to know for sure, but... no, I don't think we'll be hassled by the disturbed dead. We were lucky back then that a wraith hadn't formed on top of that." His fingers drifted down the tough wood, which survived the throes of war.

"Fenrer." Reyn stepped in front of him, no longer the small boy, too afraid to ask for the basic necessity of food. "I know it must be difficult for you to be here twice over now."

He raised a hand to stop the king's fretting. "All is well, Your Grace, I promise," Fenrer assured and left the housecarls to work to step outside, to take in the fresh, cold air of the night. Ash no longer stung his nose. No longer did the moans of the dead fill his ears. Free from his blessed curse, he opened his eyes to enjoy the silver night. As he went to take a couple steps down the hill, his serenity broke with another icy, anxious chill. He slid his teeth over his lips, to bite it into silence. Can't you leave me alone? Among the grass, he took deep breaths with nothing left to calm himself. Focus. You're enough. He jolted up when Reyn and another housecarl joined him outside the mead hall.

"They're setting up a small cooking spit for food," the housecarl told him as he got to his feet. "It might be a little while."

"If you want to take that walk around, now would be the time," Reyn added. "You know this place better than us."

"We'll start on the walls, then," Fenrer said. "Wind our way through the old farms. Check any wells we pass to make sure the water remains pure and clean, untainted." Senses cast around him, to let the flow of auras strike through his temples, the softened hush of the grove kept up the tranquility. Small farmlands scrunched underneath their heels, with the old wheat mill creaking in the soft wind, struggling to make full rotations. Fenrer peeked down wells, sending magelights down to their depths, but it sprinkled with clarity and the sounds of water remained crystal clear instead of viscous and gurgled. He nodded at Reyn, and continued on with his newfound relief. On the mill's eastward side, he folded his arms. "I'm glad that it's quiet here."

Thunderous unease fluttered the stormfront of Reyn's aura when the king lowered his gaze to the yellowed grass below him. Fenrer smiled at him. "It's alright," he assured. "I don't blame you for this, Your Grace. You were no older than I was when the Desecration occurred. If anything, I should thank you for going out of your way to see to the rites of the dead, even if you couldn't settle my father's soul... no others rose from the graves. He would be touched." Pinpricks drove into the corners of his eyes, but he pushed them down. "You did everything right, the emotions of this place had dragged him out of the grave to protect the moment he was trapped in."

Reyn nodded with a stern breath. "Of course — but we still have a lot of work to do. Things to settle," he replied. "Now that the dawnblade's been returned to rightful hands, I don't think we'll have to worry about any other of your vaunted dead rising to protect their home." He looked around the farmland, then cast his gaze downward, with Fenrer following suit at the rustle of writhing, shriveling plant matter. Fenrer grabbed both the housecarl and Reyn to put them behind him as he dove down to dig his fingers through the dead roots. Dirt in his gloved palm, he squeezed it.

Crimson dripped out.

"Infernal—" Fenrer leaped up to his feet, shaking his hand to send the drips into the wilted stalks. Its red dewdrops slid down and fed on what remained of extant life. Hand on the hilt of his crescent blade, he motioned at them to stay behind them, and to his relief, both remained calm, with the housecarl setting a hand on their axe, and Reyn raising his own to the hilt of his silver blade, the guard twisting to take in the energy of his lightning. Auras wilted around him, and he stiffened his stance at the deadly gurgle which rustled the brush closer to them.

Tendrils slid over the leaves, and Fenrer ignored the primal terror in his blood when maws grew out of the branches. It snapped, creaked, and moaned when it dragged itself into the light. Wet in its own shadowy, blood, he scowled and pushed magick into his runic expanders. "It's freshly spawned," he whispered as it continued its rambled approach, its red, beady eyes focused on nothing but the prey, lacking the learned intelligence of older Derelicts. Fenrer rushed forward when it slid its tongue across the grass, driving his shield into its twisted cranium. It split in half to reveal jagged teeth and an unsettled scream, before driving his crescent blade forward into its core. Golden light sang and struck the crimson tendrils, but he frowned when it burst into blood. The core fell to the grass.

"That... seemed remarkably easy," the housecarl who stuck by Reyn whispered.

Fenrer frowned and his dread filled his heart when he knelt down to pick up the Derelict core. Why didn't it dissipate? Crusted, crystalline veins pulsed around it, but gave no form to the beast.

...pyretic flame...

He jolted at the pressure in his head, but when the night went still again, he looked back down at the dead core. Maybe I should... hold onto this... Maybe Yuven or Maria will know something. He took out an empty phial, dropping the core inside. It fogged the glass with a red tinge, and he put it in his pocket, away from the precious essence and extra medication for Yuven.

"Is there an infestation nearby, you said it was fresh spawn," Reyn said.

"Maybe, but... I'd be sensing it with the venom in my blood." Fenrer looked around. "Maybe it wandered from an infestation outside the bounds of the grove."

Unease filled the air, and the housecarl murmured, "We should go back to the others, Your Grace. If there's one Derelict, there will be more eventually."

"Agreed." Fenrer clipped his crescent blade on his hip to nudge them away from the crimson spattered scene. Flames fluttered in his mind. Arrows pierced through walls, hearts, and skin. Through the walls of Sungrove, Fenrer knelt down to the dirt again. It took a bit more effort to grab enough to squeeze it, but he let out a sigh when no blood oozed between his fingers. "It hasn't spread, I don't think it's spread through the water either."

"Should we leave?" the housecarl asked.

"Yes." Fenrer motioned at the mead hall on the lower plateau of the hill. "I'll tell Yuven there's an infestation somewhere close to Sungrove. It's too close to active towns. He'll send a detachment of Wardens to flush it out." Even if he thinks I'm an idiot enough to try it myself. Up the steps, he slowed to a stop when stickiness pulled at the bottom of his boot. Hand out to stop the advance of the non-Storm Wardens, he nudged his boot out of the way.

A puddle of blood seeped from underneath the stubborn door.

Shoulder against it, he kept his crescent blade in position as he lowered his hand to the knob. He put pressure on it, and it squeaked open after some stubborn refusal, leaving the red trail wide. Into the pits of the abyss, his knees quaked at the old stench of death. Two bodies hung into the hearth, the fire doused.

"We weren't even gone that long," Reyn's housecarl rasped, as the king himself rushed forward to check on his fallen men. His hands dug into their armor, and Fenrer rushed forward to help him pull them out of the pit. Fenrer rolled one over, drawing himself back. Bile rose up to his nose at their flayed face, drained of all life. The housecarl took out their axe, pacing the entire length of the mead hall before returning to them. "No signs of forced entry." They knelt beside Reyn, who frowned. "Your Grace, there's nothing we can do for them. It's not safe."

"I don't understand..." Fenrer whispered and brought himself to his feet. He rushed out of the mead hall, and though it sent waves of pain through his temples, he cast his senses farther.

The owls stopped their soft croons, and the wind died. Icy chills descended with a screech, and he rushed back to the other two. It was a cold comfort to spot them among their dead, but he sped forward, causing them to bolt out of his way when he drove his crescent blade into the corpses. Neither came back or exploded with crimson viscera and newfound teeth. "Let's go!" He raced out of the mead hall again, Sungrove cursed for endless bloodshed.

Down the hill, Fenrer kept up his pace. Mud squelched beneath his boots, the flames of war sending blinding light into his brow. Air fluttered, the flow breaking apart as in Azahama. It was a slow death, a cautious tear. Crescent blade tight in his hand, he twisted around to follow the movement with his crystalline sight, with the other two unable to sense what smacked him with continuous fervor. Yuven? Fenrer clung onto the starry brambles. Yuven. Yuven. Yuven!

Given no answer, he snapped his head up at a dissonant whistle.

A blackened arrow soared through the mist, and Reyn's gasp of pain swept down his spine when it struck him in the chest, and another joined the fray into his shoulder. He stumbled, still standing as the housecarl snapped, "Your Grace—!"

"Wait!" Fenrer rushed forward at another ripple. It sent terrible pressure through the world, and he ducked his head as Reyn fell to his knees.

Sinew tore apart, and a thunk landed in the grass.

Dread almost made him stay put, but duty called him forth to raise his head.

Reyn sat in the grass, his housecarl collapsed, head torn from his shoulders.

"Your Grace." Fenrer grabbed his arm.

Reyn wrapped a hand around the arrow pierced into his chest. "It's alright, they missed my heart," he whispered, though blood stained his armor. His attention went to the housecarl, whose head rested at his feet. He tugged himself back, and Fenrer swept his head around, the pressure gone as he hauled Reyn to his feet. Fenrer stretched his hand over the arrow, to send bursts of magick to Reyn, to heal whatever internal damage had torn as he looked on the other side. Barbed arrows, intent to make him bleed.

His ears burned when he swept his gaze around, one hand clutching Reyn, to keep him safe. Like I promised, like I said I was capable of doing. "Can you move?" he questioned when the pressure in the air built up. "We need to get you out of here." I just... I don't understand. He tried to pick out the unseen, but his sight failed him. Shadows dug at the windows. Teeth and tongues went upwards to crack the edges. Reyn wobbled, and Fenrer grabbed him to prevent his collapse. Yuven. Yuven. Terror sliced down his throat as he found himself as helpless as a non-Aurus. Horses let out a shrill squeal, and he lifted his head up when the posts cracked and one took off running.

Fenrer jumped to his feet, keeping Reyn in his shadow as he kept his crescent blade. In response, the pressure avoided it. Derelicts. It has to be, but... Fenrer whipped his head around, risking turning when Reyn managed to get on his knees once more, starting to stand up. "Reyn, if you can move, move," he snapped, walking along with him. His shield expanded out of the runes, steaming with force. He spun on his heel, bringing his crescent blade down at a whip of pressure, though it raked across his armor, and the sting seeped across his chest. He checked with his hand, but it was a surface cut. What?

He made sure to keep Reyn's pace, who continued to walk even with two arrows piercing his chest and shoulder. One horse remained stock still, with another dead closeby. Fenrer whistled at it, causing it to find its panic and lurch when he rushed to grab the reins. He hushed, bringing a hand up to its nose to send fleeting comfort. "Come, you have to get him to safety," he pleaded, bringing it closer to Reyn, who gripped at his chest as he looked at him. Fenrer reached his hand out towards him. "Your Grace—"

"Fenrer, watch—!"

Fenrer turned around as a red leashed shadow sped out of the bushes.

Pressure dug into his side, contorting with a razor sharp blade, and all the world drained of color.