NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Prey
23rd of Inandyl - 4th Kaldros (cont)
Calas looked out over the city of Horora. The vantage point he chose was the highest in the city, which gave the ability to see almost every clay-tiled roof sprawled before them as well as the length of the docks in the distance beyond them. Wooden vessels, large and small, were housed there with all the sails nestled for the night.
He glanced at Audres to gauge his reaction, as this was his first time up this high. The look of wonder and awe on his brother's face made Calas smile as well. Audres had been begging Calas to bring him here for months, but timing was critical for this excursion, as this was not part of Duskwood territory. There would be others roaming about from other families, keen to spoil their fun.
As if on cue, Calas shifted his focus from his brother and found Jubei, who lurked in the shadows. His ratty cloak and dusted clothing marked the other boy for what he was: a street urchin. Despite this, or maybe because of it, Jubei was the closest thing to a true friend Calas had ever had.
Jubei inclined his head toward them, and Calas frowned at the gesture plainly for his friend to see. "What did you see, Ju?" Calas asked in a whisper.
"Patrols not looking up. Got 10 minutes at least," his friend whispered back.
"Good eye, Ju. Keep me in the loop." Calas turned back to the city below and searched for the patrol that Ju had mentioned.
Clasping his hands together, Jubei made a more formal bow that Calas could see from the corner of his eye. "It is always a pleasure to aid the Wolf and Little Prince." Calas frowned harder and heard his friend snicker as he faded back into the shadows.
"We should go hunt them," Audres chimed in with an excited hush.
"Don't be stupid." He gave his brother a quick slap to the back of his head. "They'll have at least twice our number."
"Not with Jubei!" His brother shot back indigently.
"Don't ever involve Jubei, or any of the other urchins in family battles," Calas replied calmly but firmly. "It's not their fight, and you shouldn't go looking for trouble if—"
"—If you can't win yourself. Yeah, whatever. Master Temulun is a real killjoy."
Calas smacked the back of his brother's head again, with more force this time, and there was an audible wince from him in response. "Not a killjoy. Smart. Think with your brain, little brother. And I don't ever want to hear you badmouth Temulun again."
Audres rubbed the back of his blond head sullenly, but kept his mouth shut as he turned back toward the cityscape laid out before them.
Even though they were brothers by blood, it was sometimes hard to believe based on their appearances. Jubei almost didn't believe him when Calas had introduced them to one another a year ago. Audres' bright blond hair and crystalline blue eyes mirrored their father's features, whereas Calas' appearance more closely resembled their mother's with dark hair and gold eyes. It was the similarity in skin tone and the smaller version of the dragon tattoo on Audres' forearm that had finally convinced his friend.
That tattoo had been fresh at the time, too, as Audres had just turned fifteen. The past year had been rough on his brother. Just as rough as Calas' own coming-of-age "lessons" from their uncles. Although he was not blind to the obvious change in his brother's attitude, Calas hoped that spending more time together would help to take the edge off his brother's more extreme tendencies.
Calas shifted into a low crouch in an instant when he spotted movement below and pushed Audres down with him, a hand on his brother's head. The contact served another purpose as he used the opportunity to activate the panther which concealed them in the shadows of the rooftop ledge.
A group of five men in dark cloaks, hoods up, jumped onto the rooftop directly below them. Calas watched as they milled casually on the rooftop, without a care in the world. He shook his head at the brazen display of arrogance, but felt Audres move away from his hand.
He grasped his brother by the shoulder and pulled him back none-too-gently. Calas' expression was serious, eyes intense as he glared at his brother. Calas gave a subtle shake of his head in warning.
Audres just gave Calas a cocky smirk in response before adjusting his footing and jumped off the rooftop. Calas sighed heavily while he heard the commotion begin as his brother landed on one of the five below.
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He had no choice now. He had to back his stupid brother's play before something actually dangerous happened. With reluctance, Calas leapt off the roof to join his brother in his folly, but as he moved, something shifted.
It felt like time had stretched out and Calas felt sluggish and distorted from the twisting of the reality around him. He was dreaming and he only realized it now. It had been so vivid, but now Horora spiraled out of view and was replaced with darkness.
Calas found himself in nothing but a black void. He still fell, or at least, he felt the tingling sensation of it, as he drifted forever into a giant expanse of emptiness. Calas was vaguely aware that he should be waking up now, but he just kept falling. At last, a small red beacon of light appeared below him and grew in size as his momentum propelled him toward it. It enveloped him completely as he fell into it.
He was back in the Infernal Hall, sitting on a plush red couch as the faint smell of fire smoke drifted off the large central pit. The mouse was next to him, talking to Fara about something trivial, but it was nice to hear the cheerful cadence in her voice. He leaned back in his seat and smiled, knowing what was coming next.
"Oh, it's you," the mouse said and he grinned like an idiot.
"Yes, mouse." He said his line, the thing she would expect from him. This time, though, he brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear, and found Chou there, perched on her shoulder.
The small, blue-winged automaton fluttered on the mouse's neck and stared at him. Her breezy little voice took him by surprise. "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen."
"What if I just wanted to talk to you?" Calas narrowed his eyes, a playful glare zeroed in on the butterfly.
"But you didn't. You wanted to talk to her." She reached out with a thin appendage to touch the mouse's cheek. The mouse known as Serea didn't move, and Calas noticed then that everything was too still, too quiet.
Fara was frozen, talking to Vesa in a similar state, and even the fire in the pit had stopped crackling. It raised his hackles and he bit down on the feral instinct before it took him over.
He shifted his focus back to Chou, the only thing that still moved other than himself in this space.
"What did you do to her?" he growled, shifting off the couch to face the mouse at eye level, crouched in front of her. He waved a hand in front of her face, but there was no reaction.
"Oh yeah? If this is just a dream, why can't I change anything?" Calas reached out again toward the mouse, but stopped himself, just short of touching her face.
"Silly, scary boy. I told you already. You can't do that in other people's dreams." Chou trilled, the usually happy intonation changed to a teasing one.
"If it's not mine, then whose is it?" Calas suppressed the thud in his chest; there would be time to panic later. Probably.
"Who knows! It could be anyone's!" Chou gestured with all six appendages to indicate her ignorance. After a brief pause, she added cheekily, "But it's probably Serea's."
Calas was disquieted by that information.
"How do I get out?" He asked tightly as he stood in front of the fire pit and scanned his surroundings.
"Just walk out, silly, scary boy!" Chou cajoled, as if it were the most obvious answer in all of Akeroth.
He noticed that the outskirts of the room ended in that same blackness he had fallen through before. Pausing to look back at Chou, he nodded in thanks and walked to the edge, where the floor met the void. Peering out into the dark, he gave a shrug before he leapt off into nothing as he had before.
The void gave way more quickly this time to a hue so deep that it blended seamlessly with the darkness around him. He could not tell when it engulfed him.
This time he was an owl, though he couldn't recall when he had shifted, perched in a tree under the canopy of the Eldwood. He observed the forest floor with an intent, a feral hunger that drove him to search.
It wasn't long before his perceptive eyes found what they sought— prey— as a mouse scurried by a short distance away. He observed it closely as it made its way through the underbrush as he remained very still and silent. He waited patiently for the right moment to strike, the right opportunity to trap the mouse in his eager talons.
Oddly, there was no hesitation in him like there had been before as he remembered being the hawk. Making the crow into prey seemed a poor decision to him, even though he could not stop himself from doing so. Something more primal had moved him to act.
As the owl, he felt more sure somehow, and yet the same primal force pushed him to stalk the mouse. It felt natural. Calas quirked his head and wondered why this felt so different as the mouse entered the clearing below.
A stillness descended in the clearing and he knew that the moment he had been waiting for, had finally arrived. Calas splayed his wings wide, taking flight from his perch on the tree branch, and soared toward his target. He dove exactly as he had before toward the mouse, who had nowhere to hide in the open space of the clearing.
The mouse realized too late that she had been trapped as she scurried desperately from his outstretched talons. A burning on his chest urged him forward to grasp the mouse, but it only filled him with the panic he had experienced with the crow. He hesitated.
Sandy blond fur fled from him, but spared a glance to look up at her doom with beady blue eyes. Calas felt the fear and desperation in her deep blue eyes, and his stomach lurched. He knew she wasn't prey, and yet that hunger persisted and it spurred him forward. He cursed at the mark that burned on his ribs as it forced him to strike and his talons found their mark.
His eyes snapped open.
It was still dark in his room, the true dark of deep night and Calas laid in bed, panting. His heart beat fast, in perfect rhythm with the sensation that throbbed and burned on his chest from the mark of Orendell.
He felt sick, and it nearly overwhelmed him before he forced himself to breathe in a regular cadence. Calas pressed his palm into the burning mark as if he could will the thing, will a god, into stillness. It pulsed with that lingering hunger he felt as the owl and he growled in disgust.
Eventually, his heart slowed and the mark's ache subsided, but the damage had been done. Calas waited for sleep to come as the night grew brighter.
But it never did.