Shadows given life leaped out from the trees, maws of endless hunger. They tore through their ranks, taking whoever stood in their way with them. It happened so fast, those men didn't even have the chance to scream. Only as fangs gored into their bodies did their yells echo through Lichtwald.
The wolves didn't kill their victims immediately, letting them suffer in agony. They wanted the hunting party to hear them, hiding between the trees so they couldn't even see what happened to their comrades. Once they had sent their message, the screams ceased all at the same time, silence taking over.
All of this, in a few seconds. "Formation!" Kasper called, his voice firm and unmoved like iron.
The soldiers moved as one, holding their spears in a defensive formation, aimed at the shadows moving between the trees. The wolves had aimed for soldiers, taking only a few men from Eisenrahm. Despite the loss of their comrades, the training took over, keeping the remaining troops in position.
Liron hadn't managed a coherent thought since the attack, staring where he had seen the silhouette of one beast. Only as Dieter nudged him with the end of his spear did he fall into line next to his friend. The other men followed suit, intimidating the soldiers, lacking their confidence in this simple stance.
"Oh listen, sons of Harras," the Warpriest called. His words resonated with something deep in Liron, his legs trembling less. "You fight with our divine Father at your side. He, who blessed us with the strength and courage to fight the wicked. With His blessing and love, we defeated the devil Drom. With it, we fight against the Qilesh, demons of tainted flesh. And with it, we will strike down these savage beasts. We shall kill these Children of Drom."
As the Warpriest continued in his chanting, their spears glowed, its golden shine filled the words carved into the wood. The light amassed around the spearhead, and its steel appeared better and sharper than it was before. The same happened to the soldiers. Their eyes changed color, their pale shade replaced by a burning inferno. All hesitation or hints of fear disappeared. Their muscles flexed with new vigor; each of them awaited the fight with a hunger that equaled the wolves they hunted.
Liron looked at his friends, seeing the old Dieter had gone. The new one was a man of no doubt, nothing but cold determination and hatred for his enemies. Angin mumbled something to himself, pulling out two armored gloves from his bag. Their shape made little sense to Liron, too thin to offer much protection. Furthermore, he had never seen green metal. Strange runes covered them, all linked with countless lines, forming an endless pattern.
Angin put a hand on Liron's shoulder, his eyes dancing between every direction the wolves could strike from. The Alchemist stood in the middle of the defensive formation. He had not brought a spear with him. His role concerned healing, but based on his posture, he intended to enter the fight.
There they waited, seconds stretching into hours. Liron wanted to wipe away the sweat from his forehead, but he didn't dare to let go of his spear. He didn't know whether he would get a grip on it again, having lost all feeling in his fingers. The glow brought him some warmth and comfort, but it didn't help much as the sound of snow being trampled reached them.
Time froze, only his heartbeat telling Liron that he was still alive. He managed to whisper an apology to Emma before they were on them. One blink and a wolf appeared from the trees, sprinting at him. As the beast came into sight, the soldiers roared in unison, echoing the Warpirest's chanting.
Angin's grip on Liron tightened, pulling him back a bit. Liron's body froze, locking into place. Not out of bravery, though. The wolf headed for him, the rest of its pack coming from behind the trees. As the beast became close enough to leap at him, it buried its snout into the snow, hurling it into the air. The same happened on the other side, white clouds veiling their vision.
Despite that, the beast was a breath away from them, the soldiers readying them to impale the beast. But nothing happened to them. They should have noticed their mistake beforehand, but the soldiers were used to fighting alongside each other and not with civilians. Out of reflex, Dieter and his comrades had taken position like they were taught, all standing next to one another instead of intermixing with the men of Eisenrahm. Entire sections of their formation consisted of untrained men that were confronted with beasts born to kill.
Out of the white, the wolf's head appeared. Its size alone shocked Liron, big enough to swallow a grown man. It went for the men of Eisenrahm. They all shrieked upon seeing the beast, their stance breaking. The beast dove low, dodging the spears, its maw closing on the legs of one of Liron's colleagues in the smithy. He was one of the lesser assholes.
He exchanged one last glance with the men next to him before the wolf tore him off the ground, whirling him around like a club, slapping away the spears. With them dealt with, the wolf let go of his victims, whirling high into air. Liron thought he could see a smile on the beast's lips as it bit down on its prey, several lives wiped out in front of his eyes. And with that, chaos broke out.
The soldiers knew their formation to be doomed, separating into smaller groups of three, striking at the wolves together. Dieter didn't join his comrades, staying with Liron and Angin, positioning himself in front of them. The Alchemist pulled Liron next to him, aiming his fist at the wolf in front of them.
As the wolf gored down on the innocent, the rest of its pack coming to aid it against the soldiers rushing it, Liron got a good look at this Child of Drom. The beast was massive, large enough to tear through his house. Its leg alone had the height of Liron. Twenty people could throw themselves at it, and the wolf would have shaken them off or run away with them on its back.
Its grey fur was matted with blood, its muscles bulging underneath it. It had five eyes, two at each side and one on its forehead, all staring in different directions. Catching it off guard would prove impossible. Next to its ears, a set of antlers protruded out of its head, small enough so it could move between the trees without risk. Based on its battle marks and damage, they had seen several fights.
Liron spoke another prayer to Harras as the wolf dodged the first groups of soldiers attacking it, heading straight for them. This time he knew it not to be a feint. It came for blood. But before it could taste it, its head exploded into gore, only its lower jaw remaining, ripped remnants of the dead still sticking to its fangs.
Kasper swung back his whip, four wolves encircling him and the Warpriest. He grinned at the beasts, showing them his teeth. The sphere of energy that had engulfed his fist now did the same with his whip's end. He lashed it forward, the wolves jumping back. The spot the whip hit burst away, sending dirt and snow high into the sky, leaving behind a feasible hole.
Kasper laughed, swinging around his whip. As the four wolves appeared like they wanted to retreat, he lashed against several trees, crashing through wood with ease. The trees collapsed, landing right behind the wolves. If they wanted, they could leap over them, but Kasper wanted to send a message the same way they had. They were trapped.
Unfortunately for the rest of the party, the pack didn't consist solely of the wolf Kasper had slain and the four he cornered. Three others struck at them from three different directions, all hesitation abandoned. They knew they had to end this fast.
Liron failed to follow the flow of the battle, wolves thrashing around, keeping the groups of soldiers at bay. What remained of the men from Eisenrahm tried to imitate the others, stabbing at the beasts. They lacked the Battlebliss and training, though, numerous being hit by a paw or tail twist, breaking their bodies from the impact alone. But despite that, their spears left wounds the same way the soldiers did. Without the blessing of the Warpriest, they wouldn't have done much; the muscles of the wolves were too strong.
How much he wanted to enter the fight, putting an end to every single Child of Drom. But Liron couldn't even move around without Angin pulling him with him. Dieter took charge of them, maneuvering them around the constant shifting fighting. He kept them close enough to the battle to not become an easy target but also not too close to enter it.
Dieter's best intention didn't suffice as a fourth wolf leaped at them. The bastard had lain in hiding, ready to take down whoever appeared the easiest. Dieter called out, shoving Liron and Angin out of the way. He avoided his end by a hair's width, throwing himself at the ground.
The wolf snapped at Dieter, biting down hard. Dieter rolled away, failing to get on his legs as the beast pursued him, fangs slapping against one another with each failed attempt to devour him. The only thing it got was his spear, its holy aura destroyed as the weapon broke in the wolf's maw. Angin pushed Liron behind him and stormed forward. Liron fell on his arse, watching in horror as an Alchemist ran to attack a wolf with nothing but gloves.
To his surprise, they packed a harder punch than he had expected. Angin hit the wolf's left hind leg, a shock wave erupting from his gloves. Its force took the beast by surprise, howling as it lost balance, stumbling to the ground as if it was rammed by something its size. Angin didn't follow up, putting his hand back into his bag.
"Close your eyes!" he called.
Liron and Dieter obeyed without a second thought, closing their eyes as the Alchemist threw a bottle high in front of the wolf. Despite having not seen it, a flash lighted up against Liron's eyelids. The beast cried out again. Whatever Angin had done, it wasn't strong enough to affect the rest of the battle, continuing as if nothing had happened.
Liron rubbed his eyes, dizzy. If he felt like this with looking away, he didn't want to know what the wolf experienced. But he wanted this monster to never experience anything more than death.
"Dieter!" he yelled, throwing his spear towards him.
His friend caught it, and he dashed towards the wolf without hesitation. It lay on the ground, struggling to get up. It wavered like a drunk man, its five eyes falling to focus on anything. There would be no better opportunity to kill it. The other wolves noticed, too.
One of them raged around, creating an opening to come to its brethren's help. Angin punched at the ground with an uppercut, flinging as much dirt at the wolf's face. It hit it right in the face and eyes, gaining its attention. It would take a moment for the other soldiers to reach them and help with their fallen enemy. Angin intended to ensure they had that time, throwing another bottle.
This time, it landed between the two wolves, flames engulfing the area. The fire singed the fur on the wolf's tail, giving it the final push to forget its downed brethren, leaping at Angin. Liron couldn't watch whether the Alchemist held his ground. The flames didn't just separate the wolves from one another but also Liron and Dieter from Angin.
Hearing the fighting and feeling the heat close by, the dizzied wolf fought harder to stand up again, knowing its life would depend on it. As Dieter rushed the beast, Liron knew this not to be enough. All color drained from his face, Liron gathered his last bits of courage to pull out the knife his mother had given him, running at the wolf.
With them coming at it from two different directions, Liron hoped to confuse the wolf for only a moment. He hoped that Dieter didn't need more. The beast, though, saw through Liron's ruse. The five eyes regained their clarity, darting between Liron and Dieter, noticing the gap in skill and experience between the two.
As they got closer, the wolf leaped to its legs, its moment of weakness gone as if it had never happened. Liron had underestimated the Child of Drom. It had simulated, waiting for them to get closer. He wouldn't be able to stop in time, rows of rigged fangs coming his way. He jumped to the side, rolling away as the wolf went for the kill. Parts of his coat got caught between its fangs, ripped away.
Liron couldn't see Dieter anymore. Seconds could mean his end, and he didn't know how long Dieter would need to get within reach. He should have tried to flee, though, zigzagging to avoid the attacks. His friend had proven that one could dodge the assault like this. And he wouldn't need to evade the beast for long as groups of soldiers rushed towards them.
But his mother's word echoed in his head, telling him to prove himself. Liron's life would be one of misery and disappointment, dragging everybody around him down with him. So, Liron summoned his rage for the world and for his fate, always burning deep inside his chest. It fueled his dash, taking the opportunity presented to him.
As the wolf had tried to devour Liron, its closed snout allowed for a moment to strike. Its size and strength proved a disadvantage for the first time, lacking the nimbleness to avoid Liron. He roared as he rammed the knife into the eye on the forehead, putting all his strength into the thrust. It lacked any true skill, functioning more like a hammer blow, bashing in a nail.
Its yelps cut through Lichtwald. For a moment, Liron enjoyed the euphoria of it, the warm blood splashing against his hands. He stopped being a Ravenspawn, all claimed connections to Drom cut. What loyal child would attack its sibling like this? How could they call him a scion of the Dread Raven now? How could they say that Drom was his true father?
His high ceased as Liron realized that the wolf hadn't died, his attack not deep enough to end it. The beast threw its head around, Liron holding on to his dagger for dear life. With a downward swing, the blade came free, hurling Liron into the ground. The impact pressed the air out of his lungs, snow whirling around him. The treetops high above remained still, unmoved by the massacre below them.
The wolf's snout came into view, fangs bared. Blood and drool alike dripped down on Liron's face. Death inches away, and his heart remained calm. Perhaps Harras had decided to take pity on him in his last moment, blessing him with tranquility.
"No!" Dieter roared.
The wolf moved away, cautious after receiving its wound. Dieter hurried over to Liron, positioning himself between him and the monster. Liron turned his head, his friend protecting him from the wolf. Its destroyed eye hadn't just taken its sight but also its patience. The beast rushed Dieter, its attacks driven by nothing but rage.
He gave it a good fight. He lasted longer than he should have, but in the end, all his conviction and bravery brought him nothing but a sudden end. Dieter couldn't even wound the wolf, his spear slapped away by the wolf's snout. Its maw snapped shut around his legs with such strength, it nearly tore his upper body off.
Liron wished that he could have locked eyes with his friend for one final moment, showing him how sorry he was for his fate. Showing him that he should have let him die. But Harras had used up all potential blessings on Liron. The wolf turned around, fleeing from the remaining soldiers reaching them, and ran back into the forest. Dieter's agonizing screams were the last thing Liron ever heard from his friend.
With that, the wolves accepted defeat. Half its pack wiped out, the last five escaped wounded but not fatally so. Kasper had left one of the wolves attacking him alive, crying out as the beast fled. "Fuck!" he screamed. "Are you fucking kidding me?! I had him! That's not fair!"
The Warpriest cleared his throat, garnering Kasper's attention. The young lord glared at him, but he noticed the looks of the hunting party. A quarter of them had died, most of them men from Eisenrahm.
Kasper lowered his head, his hat hiding his face. He put away his whip, looking at them with an iron expression. "Men, you've fought bravely tonight. Don't be confused. This was a victory against Drom's brood! We have bled, yes, but they did more! What these creatures have in savagery, they also have in wits. After such a defeat, they will not dare to cross you and your town ever again. Be proud of that!"
The speech didn't cause much euphoria. Drenched in sweat, blood, and wounds, no one seemed impressed by Kasper. They all did their duty, though, replying with a lazy roar, praising the Empire. Liron didn't join, staring in the direction the wolf had vanished to.
He blinked, hoping everything was nothing but an illusion. But with every passing second, what had happened sunk further, becoming a reality he couldn't deny anymore. Dieter had died because of him. And it had happened so fast. His closest friend had perished and nothing had changed. One would expect the world to scream out in pain for such a loss, nature reflecting the tragedy. Shouldn't Harras mourn the death of his faithful son? Shouldn't his tears be felt by everything he had created? Yet the only thing He showed was cool indifference. Dieter had died, and the world seemingly didn't care.
Kasper grunted, less enthusiastic about the reaction. "Five minutes. You have five minutes, and then we move. Rest. You won't get more. Harras knows what lives in these woods and what we have attracted."
"But, your Lordschaft," one man said, a smith in the weapon factory. "What's with the dead wolves? We brought the gear to skin them. We could need the fur and meat. They are…"
"I don't give a fuck!" Kasper spat, all royal bearing gone. "You dare talk to me, you peasant! Count yourself lucky that I don't rip off your cock and shove it down your throat! And now, get out of my way!
The smith nodded, jumping aside as Kasper stomped past him.
"Liron?" Angin asked, appearing next to him. "Can you stand?"
Liron hadn't noticed him approaching. He had sat in the snow, numb. A part of him feared to cry, not wanting anyone here to see him doing that. Liron had cried often when he was a child. Emma had made fun of him for that, but she stopped after it made him sob even more. But he lacked the strength to even do that. And Dieter deserved tears shed for him. Liron was used to disappoint people, yet this one hurt. That he failed giving his fallen friend this last service.
"I… I think so," Liron said, taking the hand Angin offered him.
Angin pointed at the bloody knife clenched in his fist. "You've done well. You truly did."
"Not well enough."
Angin looked away, giving Liron a handkerchief. "No one of us ever does. Here. Clean your blade. Don't let it rust."
Liron did as he was told. It helped him to distract himself. But not for long. No, his mind returned to Dieter being carried away, the echo of his scream the only thing that remained. What a pointless death. Liron tried to find Harras's guiding hand in this. He had a plan for them all, but he couldn't see how killing Dieter like this would accomplish anything. Perhaps Liron needed to see the bigger picture to understand. Perhaps he needed to have faith in Harras.
Kasper watched the hunting party, his disdain on open display. "Cunt," Angin whispered to himself.
Liron turned to the Alchemist, his shock broken. "Wh… what?"
Angin worked his mouth, closing his eyes as he uttered something to himself in a language Liron didn't speak. "Liron," Angin whispered, pulling him closer so only he would hear, "I was correct about Kasper, but I thought too highly of him. He wanted to tame a wolf, but to lure the pack out, he used us as bait. He knew they would lay a trap, and we only served the purpose of ensuring they would attack, believing their ambush had succeeded. Kasper, his family, the other Sacred Houses, and the Empire itself. They all treat us and regard us the same. Either as prey or as bait."
With that, Angin left him, hurrying to the wounded, treating them. Liron didn't join him, putting back his knife. What Angin had told him was blasphemy of the highest order. This would suffice to justify turning him into a Sinner and sending him to Sannara. Not that anybody would believe him if he told them. Having heard it alone felt wrong. As if it was a crime itself worth punishing him for.
Before he knew it, Kasper announced the break to be over, yelling at the party to stop wasting time and move on. Liron was lost in thought, the world around him a blur. Angin shook him, signaling him they had to go. As they made the march back home, Liron knew everyone glared at him and Angin at least once.
Of course the hunt had turned out that way. Having one Ravenspawn wasn't bad enough, so they needed two. The treatment they had received from the Alchemist didn't lessen their hostility towards him. Angin took the contempt with ease. Liron should have been able to do the same. He had a lifetime of practice. But, as so often, he wondered whether they were correct. Perhaps Harras had cursed him. Perhaps he was Drom's scion, his hair an expression of his taint, sharing the same black soul as the beasts that attacked them.
Angin put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a faint smile. Liron returned it, not meaning it, though. In this he had a lifetime of practice, too.