Stefan
Stefan spoke with Clarissa, comforting her. He understood how hard it could be to lose a loved one. When he reported deaths to his soldier’s families, the wails could be heard miles away. Reporting the deaths was technically his subordinate's job, but he felt duty bound to these families.
The pain he witnessed and the sorrow that filled him as commanding officer was nothing compared to what it was like being a friend. It wasn’t something he was familiar with. He wasn’t sure if he was helping.
But soon, she lay back to go to sleep. Her eyes drifted close slowly and he ran a gentle thumb over her soft cheek. She looked peaceful as he shut the bedroom door and headed back downstairs.
The werecat hung from the ceiling in human form- a sweating scarecrow, splashed with blood. The old lion clung on to his answers as tightly as his pride. Despite Stefan's painful, exhausting torture, the werecat remained resilient. Stefan was ready for a new approach.
“You were attempting to hunt my beloved betrothed. Were you trying to anger me?” Stefan asked.
He held a dagger, sliding a finger along the blade. Despite its sharp edge, Stefan didn’t cut himself. Instead, he examined the dried blood. This lion had already felt its bite.
Dangling, the werecat growled and clawed at the air as if he could tear Stefan’s face off from across the room. His show of ferocity and will meant “You will not break me.”
Stefan glanced over his various wounds- broken bones, ripped flesh. Some from the fight, most from Stefan’s attempts to get information. He smiled admiring his guest’s tenacity.
“And who are you that I should fear you?” He growled.
Stefan dropped his dagger to his side and walked over to the old man. Their eyes met and Stefan smiled wickedly.
“Prince Aamon Ipos.”
His smile grew dangerous, as the old man’s eyes widened with recognition.
“You… you live to the far north of here. No way you would be all the way down here. Prince Aamon…”
“Likes to travel and adventure?” He cut him off, giving the lion man a sideways look. “He has a taste for fine women and decapitating werecats?”
Stefan would have said another race if that was what his captive was. There were plenty of stories of his battles. He would have to pick one.
As his words floated between them, he met the lion’s eyes and let his expression go slack. The anger and violence he felt about Clarissa’s home coming under attack stormed through his eyes.
The lion man swallowed anxiously, his eyes locked on Stefan. Stefan stepped in quickly and swung his fist. It stopped centimeters from his nose. The lion flinched and whimpered. “Please.”
Stefan snorted scornfully. “Yes?”
His tone was light, almost as if he was a friend teasing a friend. The old man looked confused before just hanging his head defeatedly.
“Our peoples cannot fight. It would break the accords.” The lion man growled. “Our Goddess would never forgive either of our peoples.”
Stefan squatted in front of him and smiled. But the other man refused to look at him.
“Well, how about we start small? What's your name?”
“Quanno.” He growled softly.
He didn’t like answering to Stefan but he would. Stefan was satisfied with that. He could have kept after him but he was already giving in, there was no point in destroying his pride further.
Stefan sat in front of him, cross legged. “We could have avoided all this ugliness.” He said softly. “I just need to know why you are here?” He paused before growling, “and why did you attack my family?”
The lion man glanced at him quickly but swiftly averted his eyes.
“They stole from us.” He growled. “We need our property back.”
Stefan nodded his understanding. More modern society would not agree, but the werecat law would allow them to retrieve their property. But simply coming to the human village violated the accords more than they ever had before. Then they attacked a peaceful family. Only desperation would lead them here.
The old accords were more a fairy tale throughout the world - no one believed in them anymore. Except for the races that were still attached to the old world and the spirit of their species; like a werecat tribe, for example.
Stefan believed that everyone had access to magic. They had simply lost communication with its source- their connection to their spirit animal and therefore the universe.
“What is this property?”
“It is a relic, stolen from our ruler many years ago. We uncovered scrolls indicating where it had last been seen. It is here.”
Stefan leaned back on his hand. “I see. This relic? It must be pretty important?”
He did not answer verbally but the lion’s face answered for him.
“And well, I guess if my wife is understanding of the men who murdered her father.” The lion flinched. “She could possibly understand the old laws and return it.”
A flicker of hope lit the old man’s eyes.
“It would be so devastating for our people if we do not get it back in time. The time of the awakening is so close.” He finished in a low whine.
Stefan nodded. “Yes, I know history. I am aware of this time for your people. The stories of the celebration parties have reached even my home.”
The old lion’s eyes flashed with joy at the memory and pride of the tales being told.
“Without the relic, the time of the awakening will come and go. The world will lose this chance at having a peacekeeper. And with the times coming, we will need another Onyx Sage.”
Stefan sat up with interest. He was fascinated by the old stories and the werecat prophecies were known for being incredibly accurate. This conversation was the story behind the journey.
“There has not been an Onyx Sage in 100 years.” Stefan said, struggling to keep the awe out of his voice.
“It is coming. The true awakening.” Quanno replied reverently.
Stefan stood up. He walked up to the old man and began untying him. Quanno glanced anxiously at Stefan. His eyes scanned the room looking for an escape. His panic told Stefan he thought this was the end.
But Stefan turned his back on Quanno and he froze. Quanno could take advantage of the way Stefan dismissed him as a threat, but Stefan had no doubt he could gain the upper hand again.
“I need a drink of water. Don't you?” Stefan said and put an arm around Quanno’s shoulders.
Quanno recoiled and tried to step out of his arm. Stefan let him go with a chuckle.
“Come and you can tell me about this relic you are looking for.”
“We seek a pendant- the key to the next great hero.” He meowed the words.
“So what will the pendant look like? How will I know what the right one is.”
“It was forged from the old white gold mines.”
When it was discovered, there had been a rush on the rare and precious ore. So all that remained of white gold today were ancient artifacts. They were rare and would stand out.
Clarissa always wore a pendant, which dangled enticingly beneath the hem of her neckline leaving the shiny heart tucked away against her soft warmth. The pendant could easily have been white gold but the chain was not.
Quanno continued. “In the center are 7 elemental stones to represent each eternal element. It is the key.” Quanno emphasized.
There were stones in the pendant she wore, as well. Stefan stopped and looked at Quanno. He met his eyes, although Stefan could feel his need to look away. There was another question that needed answering before Stefan saw Clarissa again.
”The woman that was here when you attacked, where is she?”
The proud lion continued to skittishly meet Stefan’s eyes.
“Our men took her to trade for the relic.”
Stefan nodded and led them out into the back yard. Quanno followed slowly. He was not expecting to make it out. But he was willing to sacrifice himself if it would bring the relic home.
The bright moon flooded the area with an ominous glow. Stefan walked out to the well and pulled water from the bottom. He offered the ladle to drink out of to Quanno.
“Guests first.”
Quanno looked warily at the cup. Stefan figured he was trying to figure out the price for sparing his life- if Stefan was willing to. It was a debt to be paid according to the old ways. But he wouldn’t insult Stefan by refusing the drink. Quanno stepped forward and slowly lifted the ladle to his lips.
“Good. It is a long trip back to your leaders and I need you to deliver a message. Prince Aamon Ipos shall be coming with the lady you all attacked tonight. Expect us in one week. If this reasonable young woman and the cowards that attacked her can come to an agreement…”
“Cowards?” The old lion lamented.
“A lone woman grieving for her father is attacked by warriors hiding in the shadows.” Quanno flinched, his cheeks turning red with shame. “A father that those warriors killed. Would you overlook that and meet their demands, if you were her?”
It made Stefan feel a little better to see Quanno flinching with every word.
“We will bring her mother home and she may forgive you enough to understand the importance of returning your relic. But I hate to think what will happen if you do not treat her mother like royalty. She is to be your esteemed guest.”
“Oh no! A werecat would never dishonor themselves by harming a defenseless hostage.” Quanno assured him quickly.
Stefan remembered a time that werecats wouldn’t hold a hostage. Things had really changed. Quanno glanced towards the forest line, unsure Stefan would really let him go.
“Oh and from now on, tell your people to refer to me as Stefan.” He watched Quanno hesitate.
He wondered if the stories made Quanno think he would shoot him in the back. Stefan smirked and shrugged.
“If you would prefer to stay…” He said lifting an arm slowly, pointing a dagger at him.
Quanno took off at top speed, morphing into his lion form as he hit the tree line. Stefan watched him go before walking back into the house.
Clarissa When Clarissa woke in the morning, she felt much stronger than she had the day before. She could not rescue her mother if she were lying in bed, right? She stood up and looked out the window. The sun was starting to wink at her from beyond the mountains. She got up and went to the bathroom, where she cleaned up and readied for the day. She dressed in a simple brown cotton dress- her best traveling attire. As soon as she left the bathroom, she headed to the front door. She was determined to get her mom back and she would have to start in town. She could find some supplies and maybe a party to travel with there. Perhaps she could arrange a hunting party to find the rogue werecats and bring them to justice. As her hand landed
Clarissa Clarissa’s only response to Stefan’s statement was a sigh. There was no point in arguing it right now. But she had no intention of getting married on their return. His dreams seemed a little lofty to her. But what mattered right now was bringing her mother home safely. They could sort the rest out later. “Well then, we better be on our way.” She said and turned away from him. It was difficult to move out of the warmth of his presence but if she stayed like that much longer, she doubted she would be able to move away at all. He was captivating her. As she stepped away, the white haired girl came floating into the room. She moved so agile and quietly that Clarissa didn’t see her right aw
Arcadia whisked her away as soon as they got to town. Clarissa barely caught a glimpse of the guys headed in different directions as she was swept into a tailor shop. Arcadia took a look around the room. “Since you will be on the road,” She didn’t finish the sentence as she ran her fingers over the different cloth. A female shopkeeper came up to them. Clarissa knew her as Mrs. Thompson. She was a kind older lady who did most of the stitches on the clothes in her shop. Yet, the shop remained in her husband’s name, which didn’t bother her. She worked to provide for her family. She was short and skinny, with brown curly hair tied in a bun behind her face. Her eyes skimmed over Clarissa momentarily. But she had served Arcadia before and had been p
Arcadia Arcadia groaned as Clarissa ran out of the tent. “Why are you stressing, mija.” The low soft sound of her wolf, Ragnavard, growled in the back of her mind. Ragnavard was patrolling the perimeter on the outskirts of town. He was her secret weapon. They had bonded when she was a child. But it wasn’t the same thing as the Onyx Sage bonds. The purpose of those animals’ birth was to be the sage’s spirit animal. Her wolf was born before they created their attachment. Through the mind link, she comforted her wolf companion. “Clarissa may be more of a princess than we realized.” She mused.
Clarissa “Behold.” The purple sage’s voice demanded. The male face was gone, and she was looking at herself in its place. But she did not recognize where she was. Maybe it was a vision of the future? Clarissa saw herself running through the woods with a bundle hugged to her chest. Her hair was especially messy, and she breathed heavily. She looked terrified as she met someone by a river and handed the bundle over. “Don’t let anything happen to her. She is the future of this planet.” Clarissa’s future self whispered, looking down at the package with such deep love and admiration. Clarissa felt an overwhelming sense of disorientation and urgency. She could not
C Clarissa The man that Clarissa had been watching handed his precious bundle reluctantly to the mysterious couple, whose appearances were covered with poor woolen robes. “Keep my daughter safe.” He whispered urgently, confirming Clarissa’s hope that he was her future child’s father. She giggled, thinking that she could not wait to meet him. When the couple began to pull back their robes, Clarissa leaned in, eager to see who would be given her child. But the vision quickly grew black as the world she observed melted away. Clarissa sat in her chair, blinking off into space. She was back in the tavern. The day had set. A candle provided light between her and the p
Clarissa Evander picked up the pace once they were outside and directed her to a short building on one side of town. It was big in girth, but a tall man would bump their head on the ceiling if they were not careful. In the backyard was a large field with various types of targets. And there was an area sectioned off for the fencing class held twice a week. Evander smiled at her. “The day may have gotten off on the wrong foot. But I am glad that you are alright.” She smiled at him warmly. Nothing that had happened today could be blamed on him.
Stefan Stefan enjoyed his conversation with the purple sage despite his past when she sat up and reached down to the floor. Returning with a small soft gray foxen in her arms, the old lady pet it with one hand. “This is Chrome.” He smiled a little wider and nodded his acknowledgment of the creature. Foxens had many similarities to both cats and foxes. They were usually small and wiry, like both species. But they had an undercoat of soft cotton-like fur like a kitten would have, while the outer coat was sleek as a fox’s. The foxen turned its head lazily to look at Stefan. “She wanted to meet you.” The purple sage explained and waved her free hand at him.