DotW: At Dawn, We March

Pale early morning sunlight was reflected off the thick mists that clung to the forest canopy. The ashen wolf’s steps were soft but made with haste, careful not to draw attention to himself or his companion. After serious thoughts and even more tense discussion with the ‘loved’ ones, it was decided that their place was no longer here. No longer with Vektren.

The seed of doubt that had been festering in Lykos’ mind since their siege of Vale had come into full bloom, blossoming into a thorned and gnarled flower of guilt with each passing misfortune. Neither of them were safe here, and that was evident to them both now. Someone from within had been the one to give away Anders’ position of safety, leading to the events with Atticus. The identity of said wolf was still a mystery to the pair, but they were just one of many underlying threats lurking in the shadows. After his futile attempt to try and reason with his beloved ‘sister’, it all became clear to him and in a way...he had her to thank for that. Even though it surely was not her intention, Octavia showed him that though he could be like their mother and had tendencies he shared with his father- but in the end he was his own wolf. Now he needed to prove that.

As much as it pained Lykos to have to abandon the pack that gave him such power and standing, it just was not who he was...and he knew this now. Perhaps once upon a time, he could have become the ruthless wolf that would live up to the inferno he started, but it seemed that fate had other plans for him. For them. The Theta glanced to his mate, his one good eye trailing along the path of the scar that marred the other’s ear. Yet another reminder that they were both very much out of place. A gentle, yet shaky sigh escaped his maw as the borders came into view, his gait slowed to a stop at the crest of a hill as he gazed out into the distance.

”Are you ready?” Finally, something uttered between them. They had left the Nest before the sun rose and the majority of the trip had been made in silence. Enough had been spoken the previous night, he and Anders finally held the long-awaited discussion of their fates- one they had been putting off since the night he and Hekate had saved the Magister. Fear and anxiety had been present even with the death of Atticus, gripping onto the mottled wolf. Lykos had been sitting around powerless, until this point. Apparently his father seemed to continue to torment Anders well beyond the grave, sending another bastard son in his place. The Viper had no clue...he had been so absorbed in trying to contain the disaster that was Octavia that he had barely noticed the arrival of a brute with...a burn. After hearing this from his mate, Lykos knew that their time would soon be up, should they not take a leap of faith. It was decided that they would leave Vektren before it was too late. 

Ever since his mother's death, Anders had been running. Running from his past, his present... his future. Nothing had ever been clear-cut for him, not since he took his first breath of air and not since he'd locked eyes with the only lady he'd ever feel true love for. Ophelia had been his guild, his guardian, and when she died- everything Oleander held close shattered with her last breath. And he'd grown harsher, quieter, more awkward. His arguements fueled themselves with the tantrums he'd never been allowed to have, his eyes clouded with a day dream of belonging somewhere. Anywhere. Even if it lead him to a place he'd never thought he'd see himself. Like Vektren. 

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At first, it was home. A weird, disorienting home filled with toothy smiles and vacant eyes, but a home that felt somewhat solid under legs that always shook. In a mind that overworked. And he'd found use for himself under the rank of Magister, plants his friend and his ally. His giver and his taker. And under the plants and the safety of a bed, he'd found friends. Family. He'd found Lykos who charged head first into his life, stuttered out such a strangely stoic apology, then offered to fix things. Lykos showed him everything he'd never thought he would feel again, the care his mother had given him but the love from someone who made it seem like they had never seen anything so beautiful. Even when he talked to much, said the wrong thing, said nothing- the Magister knew it to be fate. No Gods, no tricks or set-ups, just them. An accident, but a good one. Even when Anders awoke by Lykos' side after Atticus' death, dazed and sore with the brand of Vektren gnarled from his bite, and with Lykos' gaze partially blinded, he'd found comfort near him.

But with Atticus gone it had left so many possibilities, so many changes that Anders couldn't possibly begin to sort through them. He no longer had a reason to stay in Vektren, his story ending the moment he returned and his mark no longer held one single line curving up behind his dewclaw and up along the muscle. No longer did he feel himself comfortable under the gazes of wolves who were no more killers than they were lost children, in a Cult to bolster their self-worthy and break everything else down. And when Ruffian had shown up in his absence... Anders knew that he was no longer needed. But to push himself away from the only other place he had ever called home- it was like tearing out a part of himself, and it took everything not to turn and run again. To ignore his problems until they came barreling back and foaming in his face. 

So when he awoke alone in what had been his safe haven, the smell of thick spice and herbs swaddling his sore body with the illusion of okay-ness, Anders simply wanted to ignore the fact that he had seen Atticus blooming in Ruffian's knowing gaze. But he didn't. He rose, hissed at the pain in his legs and chest, and walked. 

And he met Lykos just outside of his nest, the worried expression painted over his mate's gaze but the comfort of it alone drawing the scared boy from his shell and ushering him out from the undergrowth of the Magister's den. Of what was his den. They had walked, quiet as the night, right out of camp with little on their minds but what was to come. They were betraying their Alpha, no one else. They wanted to be free, to feel something that wasn't fear. And the sacrifices they had made in the pack were enough to leave them both quiet and sure of their decisions. It was enough, it had to be.

His eyes glistened as the border came to view, head high and throat sore. It will be worth it, he told himself. When Lykos spoke, he turned and leaned his shoulder up agains the pale shoulder of the other before he gave the brightest smile he could, sadness glossing every feature the mottled wolf held. "As ready as I'll ever be," Anders whispered, and his breath hitched as he held back the thought of leaving. Just one final journey. "It'll be okay." He paused, then followed his companion over the border.

"It'll be okay." 

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Anders and Lykos' final moments in Vektren before they began their journey to a new life. Written by Weasele and myself, artwork by me. Word count: 1,263