Hordedoom

Four weeks after the end of the war:

Ignacy unabashedly examined the first warlord's den, surprised at the unexpected environment. He had heard rumors of the trophy racks cramming the place, holding mutilated corpses of those she had deemed worthy. In hushed voices, the Wolfkins told tales of the white-bone carpets that rattled so loudly that their sound slipped through the entrance hatch, and how Zero slept with the heads of her latest victims, listening to the whispers of their ghosts.

Reality ended up stranger than fiction in its utter mundanity. Zero had a small two-room compartment on the Inevitable, one of which was completely converted into a bathroom. She slept on a surprisingly small, pitch-black brass cot covered with white blankets. An armored glass window shielded her private collection of weapons. Hand-woven rugs purchased in the Wastes covered the floor, and the rattling came from the dangling beads serving as partitions between the rooms.

Not a spirit in sight.

Zero paced behind him, drinking soda, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, with the helmet still mounted on her head. Around her neck was a necklace of broken fangs, their size matching Alpha's. Ignacy, registering an account on the social media site, wondered who she had beaten to a pulp to get them. Books and photos of the warlord with her sisters and even Iternians, carefully cleaned of every particle of dust, stood at her table.

"Need a phone number," Ignacy said.

"Got you. Use this burner." Zero slipped him a number written on a sheet of paper faster than he could blink.

Does she really need me? A suspicion crept into him. Mother rested in the hospital bay, recovering after a stone shard had been extracted from her hippocampus. Delirious and half dead from exhaustion, Mother gathered them all, even Impatient One, and told the family that they weren't to blame for Marco's fate. They had a talk that ended with Impatient One calling Alpha to pick up their warlord and carry her to the infirmary.

They hadn't seen her since Maxence announced that even a Wolfkin's organism needed a prolonged rest to recuperate. Anissa had her paws full with the pack as the Third headed back to the Wastes. The Dynast had gifted the Wolf Tribe the rare reward of having their lost organs and limbs restored through the use of cloning technology, and currently Elzada was floating in a strange organic sack while surgeons grew a new lung and leg in her body.

The return was hardly cheerful. Females didn't dominate males or fight for supremacy; males mourned at their sides, and no one cared about the Ice Fangs. Ignacy had promised Elzada that he would be fine, and teaching Kirk the basics of power armor maintenance certainly helped, but he found himself estranged. Marco' and Bogdan's deaths took a piece out of him, and Ignacy couldn't fill that hole, constantly thinking about what he could have done differently.

So when Zero came in and asked for help, he jumped at the task, trying to keep his promise and avoid sulking. In return, she had promised to teach him how to play the guitar.

"Done!" A request for confirmation beeped on Zero's portable terminal. A click of the button activated BigGun7432, and Zero shoved a USB drive into Ignacy's paw.

"Fourth album! Titled The Throwing Asshole!" The warlord almost danced on the tips of her toes from anticipation.

"What are we uploading?" Ignacy hit the button. "I don't want Mom whipping me for something incriminating."

"Don't worry, will you, Ignacy!" Zero palms covered his entire head with a friendly pat. "Nothing serious, promise. It's just…"

"Yes?"

"When you make a threat, you have to follow it through," Zero said. "Or people will never take you seriously." She tugged at the necklace, playing with the fangs. "That'll teach her not to grab me without my consent. Tossed me halfway across the country… We have rules, you know!"

"No idea what you are talking about," Ignacy said. "How is it possible to throw someone that far? You'd be dead from friction, Warlord!"

"Don't concern your head with my chatter." Zero snorted and pushed herself into the space next to him when she heard a notification beep. "A comment! What does it say?"

"Not just one. Cute. Nice. So pretty…" Ignacy read. "The beeping is annoying."

"Oh, come on!" Zero slammed her paws onto the table. "She's cuddling with a skull! It doesn't even belong to a cusack! The Abyss, how is any of this pretty?!"

"By the Spirits," Ignacy whispered, recognizing whose photos they had just uploaded to the wide Net. His heart sank, a morbid rush of adrenaline coursing through his spine, energizing him at the thought of what the shamans would do to them for this humiliation. He scrolled to the next comment under the image of Ravager licking herself clean. " 'Why is everyone eating this fake AI slop?' Good, that's excellent." He exhaled. "Maybe we are off the hook…"

"She can't keep weaseling her way out of everything!" Zero bellowed.

"Legs!"

They both jumped at the thunderous roar coming from the corridor. Ignacy recognized the voice as that of the recently promoted wolf hag, Zolushka. The woman howled like mad, filling the pathways of the Inevitable with an irresistible song of joy, praising both the doctors and the Spirits for restoring her ability to give life. Her loud chase neared Zero's cabin in pursuit of a male begging his soulmate not to focus on copulation so soon but to take a day of rest.

"Sure going to be busy tonight," Zero mused. "Hey, where are you going? We haven't even touched a guitar yet."

"If Zolushka is free, this means that Elzada might be too! Sorry, warlord, she is way more important!" He swung the hatch wide open, and a blurred figure nearly flattened him, crashing into the hatch and creating a body print in it. Zolushka, dressed in a white robe without a hint of fur below her waist, stumbled back, shaking her head.

"Yep. Why shouldn't I have that weird ornament staring at me all night from my entrance?" Zero commented from the inside. "Best of luck, lovebirds; I have to check on the Commander."

****

Seven weeks after the end of the war:

"That reeks of self-indulgence at this point," Impatient One commented, eyeing Elzada critically.

They have bitten through every millimeter of the females, torn out every crawling mite and parasite, and prepared the women for the joyous occasion. And what an occasion it was! Four hundred and eight soulmates were ready to seal their pacts that very night. Packs of warlords Ashbringer, Martyshkina, Ygrite, and Anji had gathered to answer Janine's call of hospitality.

On the warlord's orders, the village had prepared tables of exquisite dishes, provided by the smugglers closely associated with the Wolf Tribe. These outsiders eagerly accepted the offer to feast, arriving in large groups ahead of the hallowed date to help their hosts prepare for the incredible celebration. Soulless One would be so proud; never in the days of Terrific had their villages been so alive. Several shamans had grumbled, wondering if they should petition Lacerated One about the presence of Normies, but Impatient One overruled them, bashing the head of the most stubborn one against the sand.

Home. They were home. Their village widened, trying to accommodate every guest. Cristobo pitched his field tent to the north, between two ridges that led into the Ravaged Lands. Martyshkina set up to the west, next to the gilded, ornate display of opulence that was Darazdast's den, and the two partied without exhaustion, stinking the air with the sickening smell of freshly uncorked wine bottles.

Ashbringer and Anji demonstrated frugality and wisdom by forming a protective circle with their tents, ready to stand guard over the little ones. No one had the faintest idea where Ygrite was, but Kalaisa had taken on the duties of herding cusacks for herself, freeing the cubs from manual labor. Impatient One approved it. Physical work helped calm the mind and provided an opportunity for self-reflection.

What she didn't approve of was Janine's command to give the little ones unlimited access to the treats. The tribe could not afford chocolate, white milk, bacon, and the rest on an ongoing basis. It was cruel to let the cubs taste what they might potentially never enjoy again.

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Obeying Janine's instructions, Impatient One had swallowed her protests about giving the cubs unlimited access to the treats.

Upon returning, Impatient One had summoned every motherless cur in the village, sternly questioning the cubs if they had everything they needed. She patiently explained their rights to them repeatedly. With Lacerated One's blessing, she itched to set out on another pilgrimage to inspect the situation with the motherless cubs in the villages.

It was time to put an end to this nonsense. The Kalaisa situation would not be repeated. The Tribe had lost too much. Then there were the Crippled… She wasn't sure how to tackle that situation.

The Third, several officers of the Second Army, the smugglers, the local Normie elders, accompanied by their families, and the Wolfkins from far and wide, had gathered at Janine's invitation. And on the mountain that cast a much-needed shadow over her village during the day, a funeral pyre burned. Four days ago, the warlord apologized to the families of the dead, embraced her grandchildren, and wept with Bogdan's widow. Then she stepped into the flames, never showing a hint of her snout as the preparations were in full swing.

"The warlord communes with the Spirits," spoke Lying One, braiding Zolushka's hair with colorful ribbons.

"In pursuit of the spiritual, don't lose sight of the earthly matters," Impatient One snapped. "Piety and isolation on an empty stomach are poor worship for the gift of life."

"Don't insult the insight gained through fasting, sister," Lying One growled. "The Blessed Mother set an example for us, willingly refusing food for two years to achieve full communion with her parents. Hardship builds character."

"So much babbling when the last sentence would've sufficed," Impatient One returned the growl, refusing to be cowed by the larger woman.

"Bitterness won't refute the truth, sister."

"Shamans, please." Anissa folded her paws at their bristling. "Let's put theological disputes for later. Today is a day to please the Spirits through unity rather than physical prowess."

"Your truth, Wolf Hag," Impatient One slapped Elzada's back, prompting the woman to stand up and turn. "Clean. Sure you don't want a dress?"

"No, shaman." Elzada smiled, touching her new leg hidden by pants. It was as pale as white milk, soft and untested by the cruel sun. Soon the fur and the tan would return. "Has anyone seen my son?"

"He is with Ignacy," coughed Starstruck One. The woman had recently recovered from the terrible ordeal the skinwalkers had inflicted on her and hadn't yet regained her full range of motion. "Honestly, you worry too much, Elzada. The boy is wiser than you were at his age."

"You bet he is!" The wolf hag smirked.

"And cleaner."

"Bullshit!"

"It's time." Anissa raised her head, hearing a bell. The females got to their feet, with Impatient One taking Elzada by the paw to lead her to Ignacy in place of her honored parents. "Knives! Anyone need them?"

"I do!" Zolushka readily held out a paw.

"Me, too!" More females, including Elzada, requested them, to the shaman's irritation.

Ignacy is not that weak. Impatient One thought, pumping her chest proudly. It was unworthy, but she couldn't help but itch for a chance to nanny more of her cousins. Ten leashes for thinking about the biological family.

They stepped out from under the wide cloth stretched and placed over the totem poles. Parents hurried to take their daughters by the paws. The desert, flattened by the ritual trampling of even the smallest dune, stretched out in all directions, brightly lit by the joyous pale disk above. Rows of villagers and guests merged, shouting congratulations and forming two parallel lines leading to the soulmates.

Wolfkins pulled out musical instruments, drumming with New Breeds femurs on carapaces taken from the insectoids. Their friends played the bone flutes or performed music by pulling on the freshly harvested tendons of the carnivorous beasts. Zero rose on the roof of one of the guests' tents, and Ygrite clambered beside her. They pulled out actual guitars, filling the air with energizing rock music, while Ashbringer coughed twice, the corners of her mouth twitching. Then she sang a song about a dream of peace, her words painting visions of the lost kin.

The roaring inferno on the mountaintop continued. Impatient One's eyes watered as she imagined Bogdan carrying Marco on his back in the dancing orange tongues. She thought she heard their parting laughter. Anissa wept openly, wiping her natural eye. She refused to replace it, stating that she intended to keep it as a remembrance of Chak. A blink banished the shaman's grief. She had three brothers visiting the Core Lands, and the Ice Fangs had reduced that number to one.

Never forget. Never trust. These are our family. No one else must mourn because of my weakness. If I hadn't... Chak, I'm sorry. Anissa will never forgive me. She waved a paw, inviting Jacomie to join the procession, and motioned for Cristobo to wait near the males. The two planned to marry later. Why discriminate? Are we not the servants of the state? Not humans? Starstruck One, using a cane to help her walk, feebly took Jacomie by her hand.

In the distance of the night, two amber eyes flashed so brightly that Impatient One could see them through the cheering. Reassurance, care, and love touched her and everyone's hearts, promising new hope in spite of their troubles. Ravager had blessed them with her presence, warding off any misfortune.

"Soul mates! Soul mates!" chanted the crowd. The little ones climbed onto the shoulders of their elders, joining their gentle voices in the shouting.

Ignacy approached a line drawn in the side, led by the paw by Elzada's son, who desperately tried to look serious. Ignacy knelt, a simple traditional robe on his shoulders. Impatient One brought his mate closer, clicking her tongue as the girl handed her brother the knife. The shaman anointed them both with insectoid ichor, painting white prayers on their black fur coats as the thunderous wishes for long life and prosperity blanketed the pair.

The blade flashed, slicing Elzada across the neck. She responded in kind, sinking her fangs into his flesh but holding back the urge to drink until his lips touched the wound. The soulmates sealed their union by sharing their vitae, imprinting their souls forever upon the partner.

Suddenly, the mourning pyre exploded, sending a shower of stars flying above the village. Janine leapt out of the fiery hell, traversing a hundred meters in a single bound effortlessly despite her legs. The warlord somersaulted, arms spread wide, her silhouette momentarily obscuring the shining disk of the moon. She landed near the soulmates like an artillery shell, sending the laughing crowd jumping. Resplendent and restored, the moving might scooped up Ignacy and Elzada as the dust settled and placed them on her shoulders. The wind carried the heat from her body, spreading it evenly.

"We live!" Janine roared, and the crowd echoed her cry. "By our deeds, we leave our mark on this tumultuous era! My kin, though sadness touches our hearts, the night is memorable for another occasion! Never have we had so many wonderful guests attend our ritual! Outsiders are willing to marry according to our traditions!"

"I am not going to bite my husband!" Jacomie said hastily.

"Nor will I stab my wife," Cristobo joked, tilting his head as if listening to someone.

"Not relevant!" Janine grinned. "The Wolf Tribe has been grievously harmed. We lost those we considered our kin. But at our worst moment, the paws of our allies lifted us up! They repaired our missing parts! Let the Spirits hear our howl, everyone! For the Blessed Mother, for the Dynast, and for the people of the Reclamation Army, we swear to keep on going!"

"We swear!"

"I burned my butt." Impatient One heard Ignacy through the combined cry.

"Told you to wear pants. I knew the warlord would pull off an impressive stunt," Elzada snorted. "Don't worry, I'll make the boo-boo disappear."

"With a medical gel?"

"That too, honey, that too. Listen, the warlord knows best and all that, but let's show moderation? I'd rather not drown in motherhood."

"We'll see how it'll go," Ignacy answered.

****

Half a century later, shortly after Ignacy's passing and when Earless One joined the shamans' ranks alongside Scarred One, Impatient One reviewed the family records, finding with satisfaction that the number of cubs grown to the adult age from the union of Elzada and Ignacy amounted to one hundred and sixteen tribesmen.

****

Three years after the end of the war:

"Tch. There goes the coward."

Warlord Kalaisa's nostrils flared, and she whirled around, no longer looking at Kirk as he disappeared into the horizon. Her paw grabbed Wolf Hag Ygrite by the neck, slamming the woman into the cliff hard enough to send an avalanche raining down on them both and throttling the woman. Her fingers, covered by half-healed lacerated cuts, sensed the growing fangs shifting in the wolf hag's neck. Barks of dried blood covering their injuries cracked, soaking the women's clothes.

"My brother is no coward!" She tightened her grip. Drool appeared at the corners of her mouth in response to the desire that begged her to bite. Worse than a bite. She could see the veins, the shifting muscles beneath the skin. It would be so trivial to invert… "Kirk is the bravest person I…" Kalaisa stopped, looking around and noticing the pack watching her. The expressions on her sister and brother's snouts were unreadable. She let go of Ygrite and bowed to her. "My bad. My temper got the better of me. I have a long way to go before I can redeem myself to him."

"Why let him go, then?" Ygrite asked, massaging her throat. "If he is not here, how is he supposed to forgive you? Or see that you've changed?"

"You can't earn forgiveness," Kalaisa said sadly. "There is no fixed number of good deeds I have to do for everything to go back to the way it was." She placed her paws behind her back and watched her brother leave for a new future in the Janine pack. "Kirk suffers in my presence. It wasn't healthy. The best thing I can do for him is to give him space to heal. No matter how many years it takes."

"Heal? Or get to know that girl?" Ygrite grinned.

"Both, hopefully." Kalaisa smiled.

"That therapist made you crazy, Warlord," Ygrite said. "Breaking up a family unit... Eh, who am I to complain? Just don't forget he's your family. And keep that rage burning."

"Never. I'll be at his side if he ever needs me. As for rage… I refuse to abandon the beast in me. I created it, and this wildling does not deserve to be alone. I will nurture it into something beautiful." Kalaisa faced the sun, shrugging off the desire to maim. She didn't want to be a warlord. Not one bit. But as a wolf hag, she could only improve a little pack. And as a warlord, with Anji by her side… There were opportunities. "Pack Kalaisa!"

"Yes, Warlord!" Hundreds of voices roared.

"Will we let the Anji Pack surpass us?"

"Not a chance in the Abyss!"

"Fine answer!" She spread her arms; ideas for implementing a ban on domination flashed through her mind. For once, she was free. Ygrite would teach her how to be a proper leader, and there were her new sisters to lean on. She wasn't alone anymore, and this realization brightened Kalaisa's mood. The ghost of a smile appeared on her little sister's lips. Someone is going to compete for a wolf hag's rank soon. "The Guild has requested assistance from the military to clear out the rabble holding hostages in the southern mines, fifty clicks from our location. They won't have a chance to stage the assault because we are clearing up the place. No risks. Wolf hags, form up, my troops! A glorious slaughter awaits! Let's bathe in the gore of the fools that dare to mess with the Reclaimers!"