The Winds of Crowns and Wolves (4 page)

His adrenaline was running so high that he
couldn’t feel anything in his legs. He ran for what seemed like
ages, until he couldn’t see the village behind him. All he wanted
at this point was to leave it behind him. As if controlled by
instinct, Neach headed toward a massive tree, which was found at
the base of the western hill. Something was different about
tonight. Though there was no light, he found himself seeing things
in a way he had never seen before. Vivid colors that he had never
witnessed filled his plane of sight, as he nestled himself beneath
the cover of the tree.

His breathing remained heavy for an extended
period of time, and as he sat beneath the tree, he began to
sob.

He sobbed softly, with his head held in his
hands, and thought of all which he had experienced in his life
under the false pretense that these people were his family. It was
too much to handle, he wasn’t sure how to escape these feelings
which were permeating his very being. It was unlike anything he had
ever felt before, like a carnal fire had been lit within his body
and was radiating outward in a flame of anger.

He sat beneath the tree for a few minutes
before he understood the imminent reality of his situation. He was
unsure of where he was, and unsure of what direction to travel in.
He was reserved to the options of either sleeping beneath the tree,
or attempting to find his way back home from where he was at the
moment.

Before he could muster up a decision
himself, he heard the peculiar rustling which he had heard only a
night earlier. It sounded like a drunken animal was stumbling
through a wooded area, hitting every tree as it walked past it.

Neach’s breath coagulated in the air in
front of him, the winter chill ever present, hours after the sun
had set. He shivered, partially in response to the cold, and
partially in response to the sobbing which had ensued earlier.
Bitter cold turned his hands into frozen slabs of meat, which were
about as useful as the dead plants that made up the field in front
of him. He knew he’d need to make a decision and quickly, before
the chill turned into something more serious.

Just as he was about to head off in the
direction of his home, he heard the rustling again. His head
snapped around in an astonishingly quick fashion, and attempted to
locate the source of the noise. An unsuccessful effort, he once
again began moving toward the comfort of his home. Memories of the
night which had previously passed danced around in his head like a
tribal ceremony, and they prevented him from maintaining clear
thoughts.

It was then that he heard the strange noise
for a third time, much closer to his location. He froze in place, a
product of the temperature and the fear which was captivating him.
It felt as if a cold breath was being exhaled on his neck, and the
hairs on his back stood up. Slowly, and with extreme caution, Neach
turned his body around to face the imminent danger.

What stood before him shocked and comforted
him in the strangest way. It was another wolf, yet this time, its
eyes glowed purple in the night. The eyes were so radiant that they
provided a lantern of sorts for Neach to see the ground around it.
Differently from the last encounter he had, Neach felt at ease in
its presence. It did not approach him, or make a sound; it simply
trotted around him and ran into the darkness. What was left behind
was an iridescent trail that illuminated itself through something
that was reminiscent of a spider web. It was at this point that
Neach decided what he was going to do: follow that trail.

It wasn’t unusual for roosters to crow so
late in the morning. In fact, the way the weather had been this
winter, it wouldn’t have been surprising to find out that they had
fallen off and died in the night from the cold.

Neach laid in bed, warm and comfortable. He
tossed and turned on occasion, but was, for the most part, in a
deep sleep most of the night. He dared not budge at the first
shimmer of sunlight in the morning.

When his eyes finally opened, he let out a
yawn. The yawn seemed to make his entire body shudder as he exhaled
the exhaustion which had plagued him the night earlier.

Ah yes, the night earlier.

“What happened?” he wondered aloud.

As he recounted the events of the previous
night, it all seemed so overwhelming. First, his father had
revealed to him that he was not his true son. The pain of this news
was so great that it drove Neach out of the house and into the
wilderness, in the dead of the night.

While Neach wandered the forest alone, he
experienced something rather strange. Another wolf approached him,
and restrained itself from attacking. In fact, not only did it
refrain from attacking him, it provided a path back to his home
from the tree he sat under. This was no ordinary path, either; it
was an illuminated path that the wolf seemed to lay behind itself
as it walked.

With the guidance of the glowing path, Neach
strolled into his hut during the wee hours of the morning. He did
not wake his parents, nor his brother; he simply slipped into his
bed and went to sleep.

His body had been aching after the toll it
had undertaken throughout the day. Remarkably, this morning Neach
felt in good spirits. Although the idea of his parents deceiving
him for all of this time still rolled about in his head, he felt
rejuvenated. He felt as if he had slept for an entire week, in the
most comfortable linens possible.

The warmth in his room was refreshing after
the cold of the night prior. The struggle to remove himself from
his bed was evident and it took a fair amount of time for it to
happen. Once he had sat himself up, he was forced to approach the
situation at hand. He had left his home, after finding the truth
from his father, and bolted into the wilderness. Surely there would
be explaining necessary, as his parents must have worried sick
about his wellbeing.

He casually put on clothes and lifted
himself from his bed, while he moved toward the door. The door
careened open and swung with a fury he had never seen before. It
slammed into the wall behind it, and shook the glassware with a
harsh “thud”. Upon leaving his room, he saw his family situated at
the table in the living space, all looking up at him, as he entered
the room.

The silence was palpable; all parties
involved not willing to compromise whatever position it was that
they felt they had. The first to break the silence was the stoic
figure who was seated farthest away from Neach.

“
So, where did ye run off
to last night, son?” inquired Asgall, the tension supremely evident
in his voice.

Neach thought for a moment before he offered
any explanation. What did he owe these people? This façade of a
family had led him astray down the path of life for the better part
of two decades. There was no incentive to let them in anymore.
However, he appeased their desires and attempted to construct a
detailed version of the events which had taken place the night
previous.

“
I went out to the fields,”
he stated, “I thought it was better than starting a
fight.”

Lines of worry had sought residence in each
family member’s face, and the harrowing night before was evident
from the exhausted looks that were maintained.

“
We tried to find you,” a
tired Ealar said, “where did you go, Neach? You can’t go running
off like that!” His anger increased with each sentiment, and it
threatened to coalesce into a full blown rage.

Although he and Neach were only a few months
separate in age, as the eldest brother, it was his responsibility
to maintain a healthy familial environment.

Neach was unsure of what to say next.
Unaware of the coming repercussions for his actions, he simply
stood there, staring blankly at the wall.

It was his father who came to his
rescue.

“
Come with me son,” Asgall
demanded, in a passive manner.

His father had a way of hiding his emotions
on most occasions, but this time things were different.

Asgall guided Neach out the door of the hut
and along the path which was located outside. The sun was shining
today, and it seemed that maybe winter was easing its grasp on the
valley. Birds could be heard chirping, but their location was
something that only they knew. The sounds of nature encapsulated
the two men, as they journeyed through the village.

Just about on the outskirts of town, there
was a small collection of chairs. When the weather was nice, the
townspeople would venture here to play music, or simply engage in
thoughtful discussion. This was the case today.

His father knew that both he and his son had
explaining to do. It would be unfair for him to realize that if he
hadn’t held this secret in for so long that maybe Neach wouldn’t
have run off.

In the calm, comforting nature he always
exerted, Asgall begin the discourse with his son, hoping that he
could validate any worry he may have felt.

“
Ye know, it was difficult
for me as well” he began.

“
Watching you grow up,
never knowing how I would be able to tell you the truth. You see
son, there’s things in life that we cannot control. Finding you
abandoned in that field is one of those things. However, I wouldn’t
change it for the world. You’ve grown into a fine young man, and I
want you to know that regardless of our blood relationship, you
are, in fact, my son.”

Neach chewed on the words like an overcooked
piece of meat. Their hard to swallow realism was something that
Neach was hoping he’d get used to. Once he digested them, he
responded to his father’s kind hearted sentiments with some of his
own.

“
I just don’t understand,
father, if you’re not my parents, who are? Why would they just
leave me there to die? It’s not fair!” Neach exclaimed.

His new manhood was evident in every word he
uttered. Neach remained caught in a veritable limbo with the
reality of his situation; that he was both a new man, yet only days
ago he was a boy. He struggled with his emotions, and he hoped he
could be better for it one day. Asgall understood this, and he
tried his best to work with his son.

“
I know, son. I wish things
were different, but unfortunately, all we have in life is what is
written in the pages of our realities. We may not like what has
happened, we may wish to change some things, but our story has been
written in a perpetual ink that will not smear.” Asgall’s words
lingered in the air above the two men, as Neach attempted to digest
them once again.

Neach sat there, wondering what it all
meant, but also wondering whether he should tell him what had
happened whilst he was out in the wilderness the night before.
After a minute or so of contemplation, Neach decided it was
best.

“
Father, I saw another wolf
last night. It approached me, without a sound, and carved a path
back home. What does it mean? It didn’t even seem real, maybe I was
imagining it.” Neach had approached the border of insanity at this
point. With the things he had learned in the last few days, it
didn’t seem impossible that something he thought he knew would turn
out to be false.

Asgall sighed heavily. He fell into a
daydream of sorts, thinking back to the day when he had found his
son behind that rock in the field. He remembered thinking that he
was special. It was as if his skin radiated with purity, as if he
were sent by the gods to bring love to the community. He had spent
years trying to rationalize everything which had happened by
deeming it happenstance. With the details offered to him now, it
was all seeming to reify itself into reality.

“
Son, I think you need to
go. You are a man now, and your brother can look after us. It pains
me to say this, but I think your future and your destiny lie in the
city. It can offer much more explanation for you then I can. Go,
embark on a journey, your journey. I want more than anything for
you to find the answers you seek.”

A stunned silence seemed to hang over the
outcrop like the thick winter clouds, which appeared to be rolling
in over the hills. He had never left this village; he was born
here, bred here. The countryside had raised him, taken him in for
its own. Now his father was telling him to leave it. The
existential crises flooded his brain and threatened to drown him in
his own thoughts, once more.

It took some time for Neach to muster up a
response to his father’s suggestion. He uttered the words in a meek
delivery that was barely audible.

“
Okay,” he
whispered.

And so, on this day, as the winter let ease
its grasp upon the valley, Asgall let ease his grasp around his son
and asked him to go on a journey. This reality was hard for both
men to comprehend, as they sat on those chairs in the crisp winter
breeze. Unsure of what lie ahead, they rose up without a sound, and
headed back toward home.

Upon arriving home, Neach was faced with yet
another dilemma. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to tell his
mother. He couldn’t just leave her, without as much as a parting
glance.

Neach spent the next few hours in his room,
staring at the ceiling mostly. His mind was racing like a full
grown deer through the forest. He wished it would stop, but he soon
found himself succumbing to a daydream.

He felt the warm breeze on his face. A mist
seemed to hit him on the cheek, as he looked up and out onto the
horizon. His body was filled with the warmth of the sun, as he lay
on a rock in the sand. The sand acted as a heater for his legs, for
the heat of the sun had been captured by it and saved for a later
use.

The smell of the salt in the air was so
vivid in his mind, that he could have sworn it was real. He closed
his eyes in his dream, and they felt warm as well. Everything about
his body seemed to be espousing perpetual heat into the air around
it. It was a nice change from the dreadful winter which he was
experiencing. He stared up into the sky and saw not a single cloud.
The passionate blue stretched from the water, all the way over his
head, and behind him.