Hordedoom

"Thank you, brother." She hugged him, resisting the urge to break his nose. Janine had been so hurt by the loss of Anissa. It was one of the few times her mother had seemed small and defenseless. If Marco was there…

But it couldn't be helped. If she didn't run off on that night, if Dad listened, if Mom grabbed her instead of fighting... Was any of them flawless… Was any of them flawless? Rather than drinking deep from the committed mistake on behalf of another, she let it go, accepting the happiness of the unexpected opportunity that expanded her family. Janine would have wanted them to be happy, not miserable.

"Do you have a place to stay, Marco?" Bertruda asked with a sly smile. "At the Sunblade mansion, perhaps?"

"Figured it out, did you, Sword Saint?" Marco asked. "Yes. Cordelia and her husband got divorced two months ago. It was a political marriage, but we didn't want their children to feel unwanted. My girl spent yesterday getting to know them."

"Your girl…" Aranea recalled two Sunblades, a boy and a girl, casually chatting to the older wolf hag over an ice cream. She had assumed that it was because she had crimson eyes instead of the amber ones. "Wait. Is Bel your daughter?"

"Yep," Marco said proudly. "I swear, if I had known about her problem with the overclocking, I would've found a way to help. But you know how she is…"

"Yeah-yeah, let's pass the blame around after that stunt of yours. She totally did not act like her father." To his credit, Marco had the dignity to redden at the reproach. Whether it was natural or if he was faking it, Aranea could not tell.

"Me and Cordelia exchanged letters over the years," he said. "Nothing incriminating; she didn't want to betray her husbands' trust. We plan to try a closer relationship now. So I'll be replacing these…" He patted his legs and then touched his eyes. "… with natural parts. My sickness is no longer a problem for today's medicine."

"And you would be dazzling with genuine knees, my dear." Bertruda tugged at his chin. "But what was it about overclocking? It's just a natural state for us. To turn it off and on is as simple as flipping a switch."

As Marco explained his daughter's condition to the shocked Bertruda, Aranea tensed, catching a scent of anxiety from the shaman. These sacred grounds were both the place of farewell and the neutral ground for mediation, where both groups could parley without the threat of violence.

Alpha appeared in the view, nodding once to the warlord. Dressed in a red, belted leather coat, cargo pants, and slippers, she thundered to the rendezvous point near Jaquan's memorial column. Her long hair was gathered into a topknot. Rubberized spheres covered her paws, hiding the claws, and a similar layer dulled the weapons on her legs.

From the opposite side stepped a living perfection, deliberately arriving last. White robes, trimmed with gold at their hem, covered First Sunblade. He shone like a star thanks to the gems adorning his garments; the Sunblade, his legendary sword, slept soundly in its sheath. Where Alpha moved with a barely restrained might capable of splintering everything in her path, First strode with elegance and dignity, giving Aranea and Bertruda a welcoming bow, both greeting and inviting them to keep silence.

At his side walked a male and a female.

Soros Sunblade, the rash and arrogant noble knight-captain who had been a recent guest in Aranea's village and even secured songs about himself through his impressive swordplay. His scarless snout betrayed a hint of smug supremacy, but that was a deceptive impression, as he had readily listened to the shamans' tales alongside the cubs during his visits, updating the Order's chronicles. Tall and square-shaped, with perfect posture, he displayed the very best qualities of his people.

The woman was less familiar to the warlord. She was a Wolfkin, but wore the white and gold bodysuit with the emblem of the burning sword on her chest. A white scarf with the same symbol was wrapped around her neck, and a beret covered her hair. Csonka of the Omega Pack, a deceptively slender agent who had mastered the art of appearing harmless before delivering bone-crushing blows. She had somehow become involved with Lord Steward and had been sent to the Core Lands to heal her spiritual wounds.

Of course, it couldn't end normally. Csonka had played an instrumental role in stopping aerial piracy, received a medal for bravery, and even marched in the parade. All in her first year here.

"My best wishes to you, Lady Alpha," First sang, dropping to one knee and producing a bouquet of roses from under his robes.

"Filth," Alpha said instead of greeting.

"Have I done something to incur your ire…"

"Stop playing dumb," Alpha interrupted. "I sent my soldier to the Core Lands to recuperate. You took her under the wing of your house. I know enough of mental problems to understand that a person suffering from self-hating emotional distress should not be allowed to make decisions without a psychiatrist's counsel. You sent her to the fray. Scum." She closed in on First, baring her fangs hungrily. "Always using us, even at our weakest."

"I can see how it was possible to misinterpret the events," First said politely. He stood, straightening his shoulders. "Truly, if a knight of my house had ended up in a similar situation, my sleep would've been disrupted out of constant concern."

"You say that, yet you willingly placed my kin in harm's way, alone and unsupported. As if she were little more than a pawn."

"Alone, in recognition of her expertise in the field of deception," First agreed easily. "Never unsupported, though. I myself served as guardian to prevent the slightest harm to our guest. When the moment came, I was ready to sacrifice my body parts to give Lady Csonka the time she needed…"

"Can you fly?" Alpha buried her gaze into his. "No? Then she was never safe until the crash."

"Warlord! It was my decision…" Csonka tried to intervene.

Concerned, Aranea took several steps, preparing to dart to Csonka's protection. Whatever her intentions were, Alpha could not tolerate such a blatant disregard for her rank. What to do?

First had heartily welcomed his kin to Houstad, paying for their accommodations and answering the questions of the younger generation, dispelling certain rumors without a hint of his famous pride, fully committed to correcting the mistakes of the past.

The second warlord was death incarnate, and Aranea didn't have her gear to stop the bitch. But if blood must be shed here, it had to be that of the Wolfkins, not their allies. She wouldn't let that brute sabotage their efforts at reconciliation.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"You still function." Alpha surveyed the Wolfkin, inhaling the air so hard that the end of the scarf came out of the bodysuit and the beret nearly flew into her nose. "Csonka Sunblade."

The worry washed away from Aranea. A Sunblade. The Tribe never extended its laws to the outsiders. A horrible and effective way out of the situation.

"Warlord, it isn't what you think it is…" Csonka's voice trembled.

"Don't lie. You addressed me without permission. You carry their scent and signs. And you have disobeyed my order to rest."

"The hostages might've died otherwise," Csonka stated calmly, standing up to her leader.

"Are you a mass-produced tool to be used and discarded? Or can you solve every crisis in the world by yourself?" Alpha demanded, displaying no aggression towards the disobedient subordinate.

That bothered Aranea far more than if she had raged and slashed.

"No. But I solved that particular crisis," Csonka said. "I refuse to call my contribution a mistake."

"Then stay and continue doing so. There is no place for you in the Omega Pack anymore."

Trapped. Aranea relaxed, understanding Alpha's foul game. She led Csonka to these words, purposely baiting her. That was the reason why she didn't bite or rebuke the woman for daring to barge into the discussion of her superiors. First should've acted on her behalf. She often forgot that behind that behemoth's appearance, Alpha was more cunning than muscle. And also more merciful than anyone could have imagined.

"Warlord, please…" Csonka tried to kneel, but a tap of the gloved paw sent her into Soros' embrace. "I listened to the therapists, followed their every command, did every exercise to get better. I am better! No more nightmares!" Her fangs rattled. "All to return back to my unit. Flay me, punish me however you wish, but I beg you, don't discard me. I am loyal. Loyal!"

"Stop whining like a cub. The Omega Pack remains your brothers and sisters," Alpha snarled. "You are not losing anything. You are free to visit them. Join another pack if you wish. But I cannot overlook this betrayal. Alpha commands. An Omega obeys. Your talents will be wasted in the primary pack. Your disobedience and failure to recognize basic emotional manipulation demonstrate your unfitness..."

"Manipulation?" Csonka exclaimed, clenching her fists. "I volunteered myself! Don't slander the Sunblades."

Aranea noticed First's fading smile. Bastards. Both of you.

"Have I raised a fool?" Alpha sneered, towering over Csonka. Soros stepped ahead, putting a paw over his sword. "True, serving the state is in our very souls. As they know." She nodded at First. "If they wanted to keep you away from the front, you wouldn't hear a whisper about piracy." Alpha snorted as Csonka glanced, horrified, at the knight-captain's back. "Not him. Your male has the hots for you. It's as clear as day to anyone. He did it." The giant claw pointed at the grandmaster. "News about the civilians in danger. Not a direct offer, but could a Wolfkin not volunteer to help? It is in our nature. Let me guess, you overheard a knight worrying if they could capture the scum near your room, right?" Csonka twitched. "Disappointing. Pirates get dragged under. Csonka showed her skills. Sense of loyalty built. Their house is strengthened through the incorporation of tried and tested infiltrator practices. Profitable. All at the cost of trust. And if something were to happen, if you were to suffer a mental breakdown… Well, casualties happen at war."

"Grandfather… Is it true what she said?" Soros faced First.

"How stupid your cubs will be if both of you are this oblivious." Alpha shook her head. "Csonka. Do whatever you want. My advice is to stay in the Core Lands to educate Ice Fangs on what they are too proud to ask for. This exchange of pleasantries is over."

"Mother. Please. I waited for so long," Csonka said numbly.

Alpha turned her back on her, swiping the end of her coat across the Wolfkin's legs. Soros stayed by her side, whispering words of encouragement, while First stirred.

"This is just a misunderstanding," he assured Csonka. "Nothing more. I'll solve it, lady. There was no coercion; I never sought to use or endanger you. Your actions have renewed and secured the eternal gratitude of our citizens to the Wolf Tribe! You are to be praised, not scorned! The Omega Pack would be foolish not to accept back an invaluable asset like you."

"I waited for so long," Csonka repeated, looking into Alpha's back.

Aranea moved to comfort the woman, but Marco grabbed her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Warlord. Omega Pack private matter. We don't leave our own stranded."

"Sure," Aranea said. "Bertruda, I must cut our discussion short."

"Of course, Aranea. Do contact me later."

She hurried after Alpha. The strongest warlord did not bother to slow her pace, heading out of the alley, and Aranea had to jog to keep up with her.

"Marco, huh? You knew. You knew and still made him go through it," Aranea accused.

"It was his choice. We all have to sacrifice for the state," Alpha replied.

"Like the one you forced on Valerye? Oh, it certainly helped everyone by putting her through such a grinder."

"I'm glad that you've noticed the lessening number of the culled cubs, Aranea." The eye shifted, stopping at her.

A ripple of fear coursed through the body of the smaller warlord, but she shrugged it off, crimson eye glowing. Aranea/Ravager growled inside of her, pleading to be released for the long-anticipated bout, and Alpha stopped, raising an eyebrow at the bulging muscles tearing at the clothing.

Lemme take the lead. I won't ask for anything for half a year. I'll even agree to compliment your disgusting torturing of the guitar; just let me rip and tear!

No. Go eat cakes. Aranea suppressed her boisterous inner self, kicking her back into the house to the others.

"What sort of fucked-up sisterhood is this? You hurt your sister for what, to prove the shamans wrong?" Aranea asked, trying not to hate the giant. If she wanted to change the Tribe, she had to understand all of them. "Csonka sees you as a mother; why did you hurt her so much? Janine suffered, blaming herself for the loss of her children. It isn't right."

"Hate my methods if you must. Match my results if you want to show me a cleaner path." Alpha leaned in, whispering into Aranea's ear, her breath a heat of the furnace. "For stopping the culling of the elderly, just this once I'll explain my actions. I needed you to understand how callous our cousins are. To them, we are little more than savages to be used and paraded when it adds to their glory."

"You view their every action uncharitably, looking for the slightest flaw to be offended by!"

"Charitableness is a luxury not permitted to those responsible for the well-being of others. Your father took the high road when it came to Tilden. Where is he now?"

"How dare you?" She barely bothered to restrain the inner beast. Ropes of muscle lifted her skin at the neck, her jacket torn at the back as Aranea's lips went up, letting the fangs glitter.

"I dare because you ought to be wiser for the sake of your path," Alpha said mercilessly. "Let's examine your ideas. Okay, suppose I shake paws with Csonka, we hug, and she comes back to the Omega Pack, despite her obvious inner turmoil. How do I know she won't crack under the pressure and sacrifice herself for nothing? Or must I dote over her, handing her the easiest missions at the expense of the rest?" She spat. "My way gives her a future to find happiness in. It also teaches you to be wary of any gift. Cruelty is not acid; it won't melt any of you. Find strength in hating me. As for Janine, yes, the loss hurt her. But Marco, that stubborn fool, lives a fulfilling life. That's my angle. The overall benefit of our people. Sure. Let's unite our groups. We are safer together. There are no evil races, just troublesome individuals. This whole rift was stupid. But not at our expense. Remember, vainglorious fools can bring ruin without meaning to."

Aranea wanted to lash out, dismissing every stated point, but there was a certain wicked logic in the warlord's words. Academician was out there, the Numbers roamed the world, and countries played their intrigues at the expense of the unfortunate. If she wanted to prevent tragedies like the ones that had happened in the war, if she wanted to modernize the Wolf Tribe, she must find answers to the posed problems.

"I will be watching you from now on, Alpha," Aranea said simply.

"Keep pestering me and I'll rip out your orbs," Alpha warned.

"Tiny was right. You use threats to deflect. You mentioned cruelty. So even you understand that what you did wasn't right," Aranea chuckled.

"Saying such childish things. Right. Wrong. Bah."

"Alpha, I don't know what warped you, but don't you dare treat our sisters like that. I am not a weakling anymore."

"Not to me." Alpha shouldered her, walking toward the exit. As she stepped out of the protective girdle of the Ice Fangs, a reporter leapt at her, firing questions, and the mound of alabaster flesh sighed, lowering her tone to answer the man.