Garran lowered Teya’s lupine figure onto the snow-packed ground. He had wrapped her in his maka’s blanket before making the trek the rest of the way to the mountain top above the cave. He could not bear to leave her uncovered. He knew she was in no risk of being cold, but it just did not seem right to not cover her body.

A shiver started in his spine that had naught to do with cold. Garran’s chin jutted out and his jaw was set in a hard clench, his sharp incisors visible through a set snarl. I wish just for once, things would go normal for me, he thought angrily to himself.

He dropped to his knees in the cold snow, laying his shield beside him, and stared out over the cliff face. It was nighttime now, the frigid nocturnal coda of a day winding down to its closure. His keen, silver eyes still bearing the predatory ability of his ancestors to see in the dim light, skimmed the horizon. The forest was still and dormant as if even the trees and wind were asleep.

He could just make out the two fir trees about fifty feet below him on the ledge marking the cave entrance. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, so he set to work. He carefully removed his fingerless leather gloves and tucked them into his belt then began to dig into the cold, wet earth. Cupping his hands, he plunged them one at a time into the cold snow and shoveled it out of the way scoop by scoop. Subconsciously, he glanced back at Teya’s body beneath the blanket lying a few feet away, and swallowed hard.

His head was reeling from the day’s events. Had it really only been this morning when everything was normal? He had woken up in his hut as he did every morning, but that was the last of the ordinary. Sius had not returned from his hunt, and had been taken by orcs to Warden-knows-where, and then the she-wolf... A Bastion…

What could cause a Bastion to die? They were supposed to be the messengers of the Warden, celestial beings granted power beyond all mortal coils. How had this happened? And why? Why now? And what, in all the planes of existence, was a Steward of Aegis? And why me of all wolfkin he thought exhaling an exasperated sigh. There were so many unanswered questions running through his mind.

He believed in the stories, sure. Though, he had just always thought of the Bastions as more of a metaphorical approach to their deity. Deep down, Garran believed that the Warden was real and that he had granted his gifts upon the Darkfrost. But seeing something you had only heard of in tales before your very eyes? Something that, to his recollection, no one alive in his village had seen. Then seeing her light be snuffed out before him? Garran sucked in another heavy breath and continued the monotonous action of shoveling the snow with his hands.

As he dug, his thoughts began to swirl in his mind, a tumultuous sea of ruminations and events replaying in his head. His arms began to burn from the effort and his digging became more animated and erratic. Each time his clawed hands hit the snow and earth, he could feel the emotion building; rising like the steam from a hot spring in the alpine air.

All at once, the resentment, the frustration, and the pure ire reached its precipice and Garran reared his head and shouted at the top of his lungs the only word that made any sense to him.

“WHYYY?!” he roared.

The word resounded around him with a crack. A thousand echoing interrogative whys in his own voice came back to him from all directions, and at alternating intervals in reply.

“Why?” he asked again, quietly this time. “What am I supposed to do now? Warden? … Aegis? Somebody... Help me. I can’t be this Steward. Not when I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to do. I can’t even seem to help Sius…” he let his quivering voice trail off.

Garran sat there for a moment with his head hung in shame, his chin resting on his chest and his ears drooping at half mast. Self pity had never been something Garran bothered with. Typically, doubt led down a path that got you killed in this environment, but he had never felt so lost in his life. And the irony that he was currently both lost in the forest, and lost in spirit was stark in his mind.

“Oh come now, child. It is not all that bad, hmmm?” a kindly, frail voice uttered from the darkness.

The sound had come from in front of him and Garran glanced up quickly. The slight, hunched figure of the village seer appeared before him on the snowy cliff’s edge. Garran blanched as he stared at her standing in front of him, her form shimmered with a silvery-blue light, giving her body a translucent appearance.

“Primdakta Rala? What are… how did--?” Garran began.

“Well, you called out for help, didn’t you, hmmm?” she said with a hint of self-pride in her voice.

“I… how did you get here? How did you know where I was, or that I even asked for help?”, Garran inquired, puzzled.

“Come now, boy. Old Rala taught you better than this. I’m not truly here. Well, I am, but you are seeing my astral projection. A recreation of visual effects in my image to aid in our commune, yes? I find this more agreeable than just talking in your head,” she said. The last part of her statement, Garran heard in his mind and not aloud.

“Well we have a lot to discuss, I imagine. You have many questions, I assume. So no time to waste. The Prophecy is now upon us, I do believe, hmmm?”, she continued.

Garran glanced again at the wolf corpse beneath the blanket and hesitated. Rala followed Garran’s gaze and sighed.

“You never have been much for talking. I do remember that,” she said with finality. “Ok. We will just need to break you of that habit shall we, hmmm?”

Garran nodded, unsure of what to say. And when the old seer sat patiently waiting for him to speak first, he uttered, “What do you know of this?” he asked, holding up the shimmering escutcheon pendant Teya had given him.

Rala’s furry, greying ears stood at attention and her face lit up in a gleeful, smile of recognition that lifted a century off of her age. “Ha-ha! Old Rala was right then! Rala is never wrong with her prophecies!” she said, slapping her knee in triumph; her laugh still reverberating through the nearby forest.

Rala’s celebration was cut short as she noticed Garran’s reaction was not mimicking her own excitement. He sat, still on his knees holding the pendant out on its chain, perplexed. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily in exasperation.

“Right then,” Rala said and she waved her ethereal hand in the air causing a small astral wooden stool to appear beside her. She unceremoniously plopped down onto the stool, crossing her legs at her knobby knees and began to speak.

“You remember the prophecy, yes? The one delivered by a Bastion--through me I might remind you--during your regevolo, hmm?” she said, excitedly.

“I think so, yes,” he said.

Truthfully, he remembered every word as if it had just happened. He hadn’t thought of it often; the impact of its words being softened with time. But he’d never forgotten the words spoken or the sound of the voice coming from the seer’s mouth that had spoken them. Teya’s voice.

“On the wind where the clouds do fly

And the howling tempest touches the sky.

Beware the Herald of Dark and Night

Who slithers from shadow to weave his plight.

Lo! The Bastions of Aegis come!

And see the Warden’s will be done!

The endless vigil of Aegis demands,

Where one Steward falls, the next one stands.

Over and under the Icy Peaks,

This pup is the one the She-Wolf seeks.”

“Well either you do, or you don’t, child. I can’t project myself here all night, you know,” Rala said impatiently.

Garran flinched as he snapped from his reverie, his ears drooping apologetically, “Yes. Yes I remember. Most other pups are told they will be the ‘strong warriors’, or ‘great leaders’. I got some stuff about a Steward and Herald of Dark, and a She-wolf”

Rala sighed again and closed her eyes, then looked up to the dark star-sprinkled heavens. “Youth these days..Do forgive his cavalier tone, Aegis. We will sort this out.”

Looking back at Garran, she fixed him with a maternal stare that made him fidget and involuntarily tuck his tail. He immediately sat up straighter on his knees, fixed the tall collar of his jerkin and brushed the rogue snow from his face and clothing, but still averted his eyes from her judging glare.

“It’s more than just ‘some stuff’ about a Steward and a Herald. It’s ‘The Steward’ and ‘The Herald’. There is ever only one Steward of Aegis. You do remember that from your lessons, hmmm?” she said, slightly piqued.

“Yes, I remember, but I thought Stewards were immortal,” he replied. “I am still unsure where I fit into all of this.” Garran gestured towards the blanket.

“Ahh well, this is true that the role is typically given to the effectuators. But something is happening that has never happened before. I feel a … sort of disconnect … in the power of the Warden. It’s as if his power has weakened somehow or is being siphoned from this realm. And the very fact that the She-wolf lay at your feet is proof that I am right--not that I doubted it, of course. It’s all right there in the Prophecy,” she said matter-of-factly.

“So, how can a Bastion die? And what do you mean the Warden’s power is being siphoned off?”

“Well, to answer your first question, we must answer the second, yes? I believe the two to be related. Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer to either. But I can tell you this: the gift a deity bestows upon mortals is not the same as the gift it shares with its divine entities, after all. I mean to say that the power bestowed upon this plane of existence is unfazed whilst the creator of that power remains whole. However, those tied to Aegis’ plane, like Teya here, would feel the effect directly. I am guessing by the talisman you now carry, she--and by extension, Aegis--had already planned for that. He truly is marvelous, Aegis. Ever-the-protector,” her gravelly voice quavered in adoration.

“How do you know her name? And this still doesn’t explain why she would think I was the one that should be named Steward or why she died,” he said reaching his clawed hand up to scratch behind his right ear; something he often did when he was either uncomfortable or in deep thought.

“Well, I wouldn't be a seer worth my fur if I didn’t know most things, hmm? And she wouldn’t have gifted you with the power of a Steward if she merely ‘thought’ you were the one. This was prophesied, hmmm? I do believe you were there? As far as why she has passed, this is grave news indeed. The implications do appear to be dire, but there’s always an answer, hmmm?” she said, once again adopting her grandmotherly tone.

Garran sat for a moment and then finally spoke what had been on his mind from the moment Teya had granted him this .. power, “How am I supposed to be something that I don’t even understand? I don’t even know what I am supposed to do,” he said swallowing back the fear gurgling in his gut, trying to escape.

“Ahhhh, finally. We have the important question. So you have now acquiesced to your new role then? Good. Good Well, we must get you your answer! You will need a guide,” she said putting her contractured hand up to her pointed chin.

“Of course, I cannot guide you from the village, and I am not the adventurous type. Old bones, you see. Yes. There is only one thing to do. Old Rala will help you, child. Never fear,” she said smiling down at Garran warmly.

Standing from her astral stool, she walked over to Garran and scuffed the top of his head with her hand. He was momentarily surprised, both by her action and by the comfort he received from the simple gesture. It was as if he were a pup again and had just answered a question correctly in one of his lessons.

Rala then knelt by Teya’s body and pulled the blanket back. Caressing the wolf’s fur gently, the old seer looked down at the massive wolf. Teya’s face was still and cold but an air of elegance still clung to her features.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she? I’ve not seen a Bastion before. I never dreamed that the Prophecy would occur in my days. Nor did I dream that I would be able to play a role in it,” she said, her voice now soft and sombre.

The Primdakta looked back at Garran and stood. Garran could not be sure, but it looked as though she was not trying to hunch and stand to her full height.

“Now, you will be needing a guide to help train you with your new magic, and of course to help you find Sius. I fear young Sius has been gone for quite some time now. Now to begin,” she said and clapped her translucent hands together and then held them out in the air as if she were about to lead him in a song. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then exhaling slowly before speaking.

“Great Warden of the sky and wind

Creator of wolf and wolfkin

A life for a life I humbly cede

For Teya’s soul to thus be freed”

“Wait.. Primdakta, what are you---” Garran tried to cut in, but she continued, uninterrupted.

“To live and serve at this wolfkin’s side

To teach and counsel as your Steward’s Guide

I call you to grant one final request

Before these old bones do lay to rest

In my soul’s stead, bind hers to this plane

But in a mortal’s coil she now will remain”

Garran was on his feet now--not that he remembered getting to them-- and tried to reach out to the old wolfkin, but his hands passed right through her translucent form.

“What are you doing? What have you done? You--” he kept saying, frantic.

“Be at peace, my child,” she said warmly. “I am at peace. You will not face this storm alone, Garran.” The same dying words of Teya rang in his head as the old seer said them.

Garran shielded his eyes from a sudden bright silver light emanating from his sigil. All at once, Rala’s astral form began to swirl as Teya’s orb did in the cave earlier. The silver light from the amulet reached out and connected to both Teya and Rala’s form.

The wolfkin felt his body lift from the ground as whatever event had been set in motion by the incantation Rala had recited completed its magic. Wind blew in all directions and thundered and whipped in his ears, but after a moment, the sound and light abated and Garran felt himself alight on the cold ground once again.

Tentatively peeking out of one eye, he saw Rala’s astral form disperse into a mist and disappear, her visage still smiling warmly at him as it faded. He glanced down at his sigil that was still glowing, but not quite as brightly as it was moments ago. Looking over to where Teya lay, her head was still uncovered from before. He moved over to her and as he approached her, he saw a faint puff of condensation erupt from the wolf’s nose in a cloudy puff. And then Teya’s two different colored eyes fluttered open and looked at Garran with that same piercing stare, straight into his soul.