Chapter 7: Reflection

Swillow's said her version of the night a thousand times. I listen, and I wish I could dispute it. No magistrate has the power to alleviate guilt.

But some days, I don't feel that guilty.

It started when I gave Swillow her last mission. Dyrian and I planned everything. Nobody but Dyrian, Ignyous, and I knew. Dyrian served as Swillow's then girlfriend, making him the weak link.

Still, political careers required shady dealings. Dyrian would replace his mother as mayor of Kingsbirth. The fact never escaped anyone's lips, but we intuitively understood it. All of us have a place in the pack. Mine was to replace my parents as protectors. Same with Swillow, but she chose otherwise. Dyrian eventually capitulated to my idea.

"Are you sure?" Swillow asked as I told her the last mission. I nodded, with a sweating Dyrian in the background. We rested in the guard tower located in the city wall's.

"That's right, she's a murderer! The code is no mercy." A death sentence. "She's always at Lymon's coffee shop. We're trying to track her but we can't seem to get her locked in."

"Like her scent got washed?" Swillow asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Swillow dashed off. The metaphoric yoke lifted off my shoulders. Couple minutes later I crawled down the oak steps.

A dozen members of police sat on chairs or filing paperwork. One fuddled with a paper clip. I shouted, "Swillow's about to kill Sotul!"

We ran after her, questions screaming from the background. I don't remember the exact story I told, only something about how Sotul had been hitting on Dyrian. In wolves, cheating might be the biggest sin.

All great plans had backups. If Sotul maimed Swillow instead, Sotul'd claim self-defence. If Swillow didn't kill Sotul, then we'd still chase Swillow off.

We arrived. Swillow stood over the corpse of Sotul, the jackal's neck in her bloodstained maw. Perfect crime committed.

Before Swillow spoke, I used water from a nearby fountain, and hit her with it, knocking her to her side. "Swillow Barktree, you are exiled for the act of murder. Leave now before we kill you where you stand!"

Swillow scrambled to her feet and paused. She didn't take a breath before we launched our elemental attacks. She scampered, occasionally slipping as attacks landed.

Dyrian insisted we filled her in later. I disagreed, saying she'd figure she killed the wrong jackal. Dyrian told her anyway, finding her on the outskirts of town in a makeshift tent fashioned out of leaves and twigs.

I don't hate my deplorable actions. I hate how I don't hate my deplorable actions. Do I not care because Canida is already corrupt?

After all, Sotul only got the axe because she got politically involved. Some revolutionaries incited new thinking in Canida. Both Sotul and Swillow became whistleblowers who messed with powers beyond their control.

No, that doesn't explain why I don't regret this. I followed orders. Which came from Ignyous.

*

I sat down against the wall, receded in the corner. I tried to avert eye contact with the giant red wolf. Ignyous had long fur, but her muscles still showed. Red ran across her body except for the pale pink on her chest. A single light bulb lit the room.

"It seems your sister talks a lot. About police procedure. About how we sometimes make sure the right person gets convicted despite the fact we have to... Insure the processes."

Was I about to get fired? A shattering blow to my family's honor for sure. I felt the rage bubble out as I choked. I didn't deserve to get fired for my sister's wrongdoing!

"Canida is equipped with a constitution permitted any individual to speak about any matter at the town hall excluding riotous speech." I explained.

Ignyous raised an eyebrow and I stared at her feet. Few seconds, she nodded. "You are close to a promotion."

I exhaled loudly, before shutting my trap. What if she capitalized on my weakness? The corners of her lips nearly reached her eyes.

Her claws scratched the oak wood. She sat in front of the door. With her back to me, she said, "How close are you to your sister?"

"Not a bit," I said instinctively. I internally criticized myself for admitted that, and freely too.

"Good. You should be angry with your sister. She's put your job into jeopardy." She was the prime guard for the entire country of Canida, for any species. But the police conducted themselves the same way no matter the land. Easily she could dominate me physically, magically, and politically. Could execute me on the spot and traipse out, claiming I attacked her.

"You need to kill Swillow."

I balked and shook my head. "No, I couldn't kill my own sister!"

"Then, get her removed from the kingdom some other way."

"How?"

"I don't care. She can leave as a millionaire. Make it happen."

I opened my mouth, but she said, "Better yet, I already have an idea. You know that jackal, Sotul? You frame Swillow for a murder. You will claim that she murdered the jackal, because she actually will. Fill in the gaps. After this, you will have a great career."

She dismissed me. At breakfast I barely ate.

I examined my options logically and carefully.

I could have told Swillow. Then she'd tell everybody. Then Ignyous would kill us, if anyone even believed her.

I don't do anything, Ignyous would hire an assassin.

The only reason I got this option probably had to do with family legacy. Not a respect for my lineage. I think Ignyous would run unopposed in any elections for chief of Canida if my family line contained a murderous daughter.

Therefore, I'd betray more than Swillow. I'd betray the entire Barktree family.

In retrospect, my other option: I tell Swillow and run with her. I become a void wolf with her and meet Citrus a lot earlier. If I had known that information right now, then yes, I would have told her. Probably, I mean, I can't tell exactly. But in the moment, it didn't seem likely and sounded stupid. I screwed up.

It's misleading to say I did this for power. The incentive excited me, but my choice possessed more reasons. Going back years ago from that day.

*

"Wasting, do you think that police are actually effective at keeping crime rate down?"

I stared at her, as the hyena got strapped down for the whipping. Dozens of onlookers watched.

The question caught me off guard. Typically, the most intelligent thing she'd say to me in day to day life was, "What's the difference between a Hyenkaydian Hyena's husband and a drug test? She never beats a drug test." I always thought that joke was wrong. I don't think most Hyenkaydians could afford to get high.

Still, I growled at her softly. You cannot ask those kinds of questions when you have recently joined the force.

"Do you think that hyena would be there if it wasn't for our policing?"

Swillow asked, "Do you seriously think that beating her is going to make her stop lurking around our territory?"

"She was warned repeatedly to stay away. The only reason she wasn't killed and eaten immediately is because of her draconic heritage," I said.

A cloud moved over the sun. The executioner of the act carried a large stick in his mouth.

"But, at the same time," Swillow said, "we're not getting anywhere if we're fixing a situation after it's happened."

I rolled my eyes. Freedom of speech is a thing, but you're not supposed to use it. I could call my boss a fat butthead who looks like trash. But if I did that, they'd use their own freedom of speech to free me of my job.

"Our system works. If it didn't, there'd be a hundred percent recidivism rate, right?"

"Our rates lowered after the rehabilitation centers opened," Swillow said.

"This is our duty in life, going back several generations, got it. I demand you apologize to our family. Now. Got it."

"All we do is write tickets," she said, "or yell at kids."

The guards stretched the hyena out in an x-formation against a board. Straps wrapped around the extremities and neck.

"Someone has to do the job."

"We're citation officers and desk jockeys."

The whipping commenced. A three foot switched cracked against the back meat of the hyena. She screamed out. According to some, the pain was equivalent to being skinned alive without the pleasure of death.

"It's a lot of menial work," I said. "Still that's good, because it means when we do the actual job, we're effective enough to get everyone to stop." I smiled at her.

"You're full of shit," she said.

"And you're a bitch who thinks she has something important to say."

But for some reason, she didn't stop. Her quest continued, and she continued saying wild things.

I wish I had listened. Admittedly, Swillow was right about a lot of it.

Swillow was right about everything.

I don't feel like going back home, and I'm trying to delay that as much as I can. But I know I'll die once I reach the Decay.

It's worth it, right?

Too bad I fell into dark days. You engage in collusion once, you stay colluding. When did it end? I have "quit" alcohol about three times now and I feel like I'm about to end a three week sober streak.

***

Couple months before I reunited with Swillow, I took a stroll around the kingdom walls. Mostly sticks and stones buildings, made by hand by the lesser wealth. Sometimes I heard the odd scream that I wasn't paid to investigate.

One scream came disturbingly close, until I turned the corner and saw her. A slender yellow wolf, pinned by several officers. She kicked and screeched, fighting them off and blasting off Flashbangs.

No one takes their execution easy. Taking a closer look, I sniffed something familiar. I order everyone, "Stand down."

Bloody wounds and gashes stained her body. Bite marks entered her flesh. "She's a Snow, sir."

She smelled like Swillow. Hard breaths came from her. "This isn't a Snow. She's from a neighboring village."

Half a dozen eyes turned to pinpricks from that. An accidental execution? A definite jail sentence. They scattered without asking extra information. The wolf's eyes widened as she stared at me. I gave her a wink.

"You, why'd you say that?" She tried to get to her feet, but her legs fell out underneath her weight. "You have no obligation."

"You know Swillow." I got level with her. "I feel like I should know her fate."

"Wasting?"

"The one and only."

"I swore I'd kill you."

"Tell me what's gone on these past fourteen years, and I'll give you the sword."

She took an ached breath. "My sister and I found her near a beach, in a bad situation. We did our best to save her. She wanders the landscape as the "Slaughterhound", or that's what crimsons call her."

"Slaughterhound?" I asked. She nodded. "Violent name. Maybe she's hellbent on vengeance. Before you kill me, can I tell you my side of the story?"

"If you're trying to talk me out of killing you, it won't work," Citrus promised.

I told her the story.

"I still think you're a monster," she said.

"You're my prisoner now. And you're under arrest, Snow."

She laughed with a rasp to her voice. "Good luck trying to trap me."

I locked her up within minutes. After lunch, I checked in and she disappeared. But that wasn't the last time I saw her.

Next day, I noticed her scent around my home. I told stories when I sat at the window of my room. I spoke stories of my youth every night after that. A few must have resonated because she didn't kill me any of those nights.

I enjoyed the phantom company. I told her more and more of the tale about legacy, about revenge, and about why what I did was the best option. Not right, but not wrong.

...That's it, you're the final verdict. Nobody else can make me feel complete, but you. I've given all the reasons. I've saved lives. I've done good things. I took the best choices.

Why can't you feel good!?

*

Swillow peered through the grate. Her void magic allowed her to see past the darkness, and see Wasting talking to the puddle on the floor.

"It Starts" - Wasting's Theme

Duality of Morality

Reality of totality

I think of victims slain

Conclusion before seclusion

Collusion is my confusion

To my heart and my soul and my brain

It starts again

I stare into the pool of life

Reflection warped,

And filled with strife