Daxen

777 RC, Dragon moon 2nd Ttriface; On his family farm, in the valley of Geatan, Central Arundel.

Exhausted, Daxen walked beside the fully laden wagon that his brothers and father had finished loading. They all took grateful swallows of cool, clear water from a pump his father had installed near the fields to water the crops when the rain was late. Glad to have all the crops that were in danger if it truly did storm, picked to protect the delicate fruit and vegetables. His brothers chatted happily now that their work for the day was completed early, they had worked extra hard after his warning. He remained silent the cloudless sky was still brightly mocking him over their heads.

Sighing Daxen trudged beside the cart, his father came up beside him and ruffled his hair affectionately and smiled down at him,

“I’m Sure it’ll cloud up and drench us any second now.” He said chuckling at the absurdity of hoping for bad weather. He startled a chuckle out of Daxen, he felt slightly better but was still worried that the storm he had felt was still building. After what seemed like the longest walk he could remember, they came within sight of the house again. In the distance a cloud of dust was visible Daxen stood up on the seat of the wagon for a better look. He squinted against the harsh afternoon sun. Dark shapes raced in front of the oncoming wall of darkness. Suddenly the air around them whipped past sucked towards the storm. Axel’s hat was whipped off his head, it soared up towards the approaching anvil shaped clouds. They stared, horror struck at the magnitude of the storm barreling down towards them. The sky on the horizon was a sickly shade of green and lightning flashed eerily silent at this distance. With a yell Axel whipped their lumbering cart into a charge towards the sheltering barn. Heinz bellowed like bull over the rushing wind as it was drawn from their lungs to fuel the approaching storm. Daxen couldn’t make out what he was saying he had pitched his voice so low, but his warnings carried over the distance to the house. Daxen saw one of his sisters straighten in the garden, she turned half raising her hand in greeting before she caught sight of their frantic approach. She whirled and must have screamed at the approaching sight of the storm. As they came off the hill wildly trying to remain on the cart Daxen was pitched back to land among the ripe strawberries. Full baskets fell out off the back and he watched them trampled under the headless feet of his father and brother. Dazed he saw the red fruit soak like blood into dusty ground. They barreled full speed into the barn skidding to a stop on the hard packed dirt floor. Daxen slid forward into the seat smashing his forehead on the rough wood. His brother fumbled with the panicked mule. Woozy, Daxen stumbled down to stare stunned at the approaching storm. The very earth seemed to scream out in pain as the first pelting rain reached them. He watched as his father roughly grabbed axel and pulled him out of the way he cut the frantic mule free. Daxen shook himself his mind clearing enough for the pain from the bump on his head to penetrate. He ran forward to help.

“Daxen go with Kurt, get the animals out of their pens.” Heinz ordered grimly as he hurried towards the house. Daxen obeyed without a thought. Kurt lead the way down the horse stalls opening each stall and urging each animal out of the wide open barn. As they chased the last horse out of the barn Daxen sagged to the ground retching, sick to his stomach. Axel and his father yelled at the dairy cattle getting them out of the pens and out into the open fields. Panting he looked at the storm that was nearly on them a dark and ominous funnel shaped cloud was swaying as it reached towards the ground. Kurt grabbed him and grimly they ran towards their mother who was shouting for them from the opening of the storm shelter doors.

Axel stood beside the door starring past them in horror, Daxen struggled out of Kurt’s grip to turn and see what was coming behind them. His mouth fell open. Wolves larger than their cattle had herded their loose cows and horses back around the house. The wind had risen to a howl. The Wolves circled around the house keeping the wild eyed livestock contained. Heinz came to stand next to Daxen just as stunned as his son, they watched in amazement as men and women slid from the backs of the Wolves taking up positions around the house and yards. They threw back their heads and the spine stiffening howl of the hunting wolf rose even above the shriek of the wind. Faster and faster the Wolves sped around and around their home. Their Riders raised their hands to the sky and green shimmering fire seemed to burst from each of them to waver in the wind. The Wolves streaked past each of their Riders green flames stretched to follow their path around the house. After a few seconds the wind died as if by magic. And Daxen could hear the hammering of huge paws blending until they sounded like a single massive beast thundering around. The trails of flame trailing behind the Wolves blended together then rose rapidly to tower as high as the clouds. With a tectonic screech, the approaching tornado collided with the towering green pillar of fire. The blow transferred through the magical barrier as a hollow boom that shook dust from the edge of the roof. The two titanic forces whirled against each other spinning in opposite directions. The Riders chanted frantically wavering and the green fire dimmed slightly. With a shout of rage the tallest figure thrust his left hand forward into the wall of flame they had summoned. His right hand was suddenly filled with a gleaming sword that he slashed across his forearm. Green fire welled like blood from the cut and the flames roared higher overwhelming the black column of spinning wind. With tremendous crash the tornado blew apart, dirt and hay fell like rain from the sky as everything the tornado had claimed in its brief life, fell back with a clatter too rest upon the earth once again.

Daxen walked forward captivated, as the green fire shrank back into the men and women now panting on the ground. The huge wolves had simply collapsed their sides heaving as they regained their breath after defeating the tornado that had nearly destroyed all that he had ever know, or loved. He was nearly within arms reach of the closest Wolf when his father seized him thrusting him back behind his mother. His father walked forward to the crumpled form of the man who had thrust his arm into the fire to stop the storm. Near him a Wolf also lay crumpled on the ground. Daxen heard his father speak to the Riders who had slowly gathered around their fallen comrade. Heinz knelt beside the women holding the still man, after a moment he waved Axel forward. Shocked Daxen saw that the man’s chest didn’t rise and fall with the breath of life, the great wolf beside him was also deathly still. Milia grabbed his hand and Daxen gathered her close, shielding her from the harsh reality in front of them. His father and brother helped to lift the fallen man and lie him gently in one of the nearby wagons, his Wolf was lifted up next to him and both of them were covered over with blankets the other Riders took from their own Wolves.

The Riders gathered around the cart respectfully, his father and brother left them to mourn.

“They are Riders from the Heartwood. They were searching for new Riders when they caught a scent on the wind. They scent led them to our farm barely in front of that storm. It would have destroyed us all if not for them.” Heinz said quietly to his family. “They have lost one of their number. We shall do all we can for them, girls go prepare extra beds and food, they will need it to get their strength back. Boys come with me we shall see what else they require and we need to check on your older brothers at their houses as well.” Daxen nodded along with Axel and Kurt as they followed their father forward.

“Riders my family and I cannot possibly repay you for what you have done here. Let alone the harm you prevented to our neighbors and their families as well.” Heinz began, but one of the female Riders stopped him with a raised hand.

“It was our duty, we all swore to protect those without magic when and where we could. No thanks are needed sir.” She said, behind her the others nodded a few smiled tiredly.

“Well in any case, let us know how we can help.” Heinz said gratefully.

“We could do with a bath.” One of the younger men said from beside his own towering Wolf. Daxen studied the huge Wolf with avid interest. Its shoulder was as high as the back of a horse, and from the tip of its snout to the end of its tail it was longer than a horse by at least 3 feet. Its bright brown eyes followed the conversation between the humans with obvious intelligence as if it understood perfectly what was being said. Daxen rubbed the bump on his head it was extremely tender and he winced slightly. The Wolf noticed his pain and nudged past his Rider who had finally taken off the saddle that had been attached to his back. Its huge wet nose was as big as a both of Daxen’s fists put together. It sniffed him and slowly inched closer until Daxen reached forward and touched the dusty fur on its muzzle. A shock like static passed between them and Daxen yelped the Wolf turned its head and studied him closely with one eye the size of largest duck egg. Then it turned back and looked meaningfully at its Rider. Who turned as if he had been spoken too, he looked from the Wolf to Daxen then came over quickly.

“Are you sure?” The Rider asked his Wolf as he scrutinized Daxen. The Wolf snorted out a blast of hot breath through its nose. Daxen could have sworn it looked reproachfully at its rider for asking such an idiotic question. Even more shocked he watched the Wolf roll its eyes at him, as if to say. “You see what I have to deal with?” Daxen laughed and eagerly ran his hands over the Wolfs fur, causing its long tail to sweep back and forth lazily behind it.

“Alright but if you’re wrong I’m not taking the blame. Oh my names Rickard, this big shaggy fellow is my partner Snowpaw.” He gestured to the Snowpaw’s single white front paw, which he lifted, wagging it back and forth as if waving to Daxen. Daxen couldn’t help himself he waved back grinning. He was nearly as tall as the young Wolf Rider, together they both looked over at the fallen rider and his mountain and sobered slightly.

“We’ll have to tell Narissa about this he muttered out loud to Snowpaw, who nodded looking grim. “Well, we can wait till she’s seen to Aaron with your father.”

Daxen nodded, looking around trying to decide what he could talk about to keep the Wolf Rider near him.

“We can give you a hand rounding up the loose livestock if you want.” Rickard said glancing around at the uneasily milling cattle and horses. Daxen nodded happily leading the way towards the barn for lassos.

Narissa watched silently as Aaron’s mate grieved weeping bitterly over his fallen form. She turned away, she scented the air but the distinctive smell they had followed for three days, it had been completely destroyed by the tornado. She took a head count as she watched some of the younger Riders helped the family round up their scattered livestock. Her heart ached for the loss of Aaron, she had sensed that their strength wouldn’t be enough to stop the twister and had been on the verge of ordering them to scatter and flee. But Aaron had stepped forward sacrificing every drop of magic from his body, pouring his very lifeblood into the spell, just to save the people of this small valley. She watched as Rickard lifted one of the small girls up onto the back of his partner to trot around like a great furry pony, making the small girl giggle in high pitched delight. Narissa let a small smile creep onto her face as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the departing clouds.

She thought to her partner Sable who stood sentry over the small herd of cattle. Tired to her very bones, Narissa limped into the house. She hadn’t even gotten the families name that lived inside it. Rickard ran up to here before she had gone more than a few steps.

“Ma’am, we found him. He said quietly, at her sharp look he stood up straighter. “It’s the boy over there with Snowpaw. He’s the one we where tracking.” Narissa grasped his shoulder glad for a little good news.

“Show me.” She said following him over to his partner and the two children happily petting the Wolf. She studied the boy as she approached limping slightly. He was tall like the rest of the boys in his family, he couldn’t be more than 11 or 12, but he was already as tall she was. She glanced over at his father who was still wrangling the last of the cattle back into their corral. He was a full six inches taller than her tallest pack member, which made him the better part of seven feet tall. His sons looked like they were all on pace to top him in height. She came to stand next to the shortest of his children. Rickard gestured him over and she studied him as he approached, comfortable in the presence of a Wolf that could probably eat him in less than two bites. Many people never fully became comfortable in the presence of the Riders and their gargantuan animal companions.

“What is your name boy?” She asked studying his bright blue eyes as he answered.

“Daxen Ma’am,” he said no doubt noticing how Rickard addressed her. Now that she was closer she could smell the unmistakable scent that had led them for miles in this direction.

“Well Daxen I have interesting news for you and your family lets go find your parents shall we?” Narissa said taking his shoulder gently she led him into the house.

The next morning Daxen stumbled from his bed before dawn, his head still whirling from all the Wolf Riders had told him and his family. It had been sheer luck that the pack had been following his scent on the wind while they searched out new boys and girls to become Riders. If not for him their farm and the farms all around the valley could have been destroyed. Daxen crept soundlessly outside careful for once not to wake anyone else in the house. As soon as he had made it past the still sleeping chicken coop, he sprinted off into the fields, over the hills he ran towards the single tree that overlooked their farm. All around the top of the hill a wrought iron fence guarded the carefully tended grass and flowers planted there overlooking the house. Daxen gasped for breath glad to have worked off some of his fear and excitement. Coming to tend his ancestors always helped to settle his mind. Once he had caught his breath he opened the gate and moved to stand just inside of the fence as the first rays of the sun touched the upper branches of the ancient oak tree in the center of the grave stones carefully arranged around its base. Ever since he had been old enough to start doing chores around the farm his duty had been to look after the family cemetery and tend their family tree. Taking the copper oil pot from its bracket behind the gate post he oiled the hinges carefully just as he did every time he went there. He studied his family tree intently as he stepped reverently past seven generations of his ancestors lain to rest in the soil they had stewarded so carefully. Almost 200 years his family had worked the land on this stretch of the valley. His great, great, great grandfather had planted the acorn that had grown into the sheltering tree he watered carefully each dry season. Daxen ran his hands over the carefully carved names that stretched all the way up to the first branch far above his head. Every generation had added their name to the tree, then added their wives names when they married, and their children’s names as they were born. Dozens of names all together, Some of the generations nearly wrapped around the trunk. The last five generations had been smaller until his father and mother. Daxen ran his fingers over his own name carved with such care next to his brothers and sister nine of them all together, evenly spaced, ringing the trunk. Each name with just enough space around it to add their own wife or husband when the time came. The most recent of which was still glistening beside his oldest brothers, who had just gotten married and moved out that past spring.

Daxen carefully brushed away wind blown leaves starting at the base of his family tree, and spiraled outward, respectfully clearing the ground, at the same time he cleared his cluttered thoughts. The mindless chores of cleaning helped to settle his thoughts. After the leaves and twigs, he scrubbed the headstones and markers with a slightly dampened rag, to remove any moss or lichens that had started to grow there. Glad for the quiet, he trimmed the grass finally setting his tools back in their small protected shed, he sat down with his back against the family tree. He studied the freshly turned soil of the newest graves. His family had buried their fallen protector with all the honor that could be given, to one who had sacrificed everything to save them. The Wolf Rider’s had helped to solemnly bury their fallen pack members. His father had carved their names on the stones set above their peacefully resting bodies. His mother and sisters had planted flowers in the fresh soil,

Below him the Wolf Riders were talking with his father. Interested he sat forward as their leader handed his father something. The Riders and his father led out a small batch of cattle from the corral into the open wind scarred fields. Daxen counted the cows, and realized what was about to happen when his father sent his sisters back inside. There was one cow for each Wolf. He stood horrified and entranced at the same time. Life and death where no new concepts on the farm, they slaughtered their own cattle each fall for winter food. But there was a fundamental difference between slaughtering an animal and feeding it to a hungry predator.

He saw his father glance up at him on the hill, they stared at each other for a second before his father nodded once, then turned to watch what was happening with his tenderly raised livestock. Each of the Wolf Riders led a cow a little distance off, their Wolves gathered behind the barn, downwind from the cattle. At some silent signal, the wolves charged from behind the barn, working as one, they herded the now terrified cattle over a small hill out of sight of the front yard. Daxen jumped up and grabbed the lowest branch of his family tree and scrambled up like a squirrel, as high as he could go, to watch the Wolves.

All business now, they quickly split the herd of cows, each wolf picked out its own meal and harried its heels isolating, it from the others. He watched with rapt attention, each Wolf was larger than the cow it chased by a good margin. Both longer and taller than their dinner, not wanting to miss a thing his eyes started to water, as he strained not to blink. This would be his life, if he chose to go with the Rider’s when they left that evening, his father and mother had made it clear that it was his choice to make not theirs. He would be a part of this, a partner to one of the huge predators that would share his mind and thoughts. He had wondered if he could stand it to hunt, to kill, for fun as much as food. He had not gone hunting with his older brothers yet, but had been looking forward to it. the thought didn’t scare or disgust him. But it was one thing to be alright with killing the occasional deer, another thing entirely to hunt every meal with a Wolf or Dragon, that shared its thoughts and desires with you. His inner musing was cut short as the wolves pounced upon their chosen dinner. With one swift bite, they seized the cow just behind the horns in their massive jaws. A quick shake of their heads side to side cleanly broke the cows neck. Each Wolf carried its cow to a different area to eat, some gutted them first to eat the heart and liver first, and others clearly saved those choice bits for last, instead starting with the more usual cuts of meat like brisket and tenderloin.

After only a few minutes the only thing left of any of the cattle was a cooling pile of guts, four hooves, a head and tail neatly piled together. After they finished cleaning the blood from their fur, each Wolf buried the remains of its meal neatly in the ground. Daxen slowly climbed down from the tree, and headed home. He realized that he didn’t feel any fear at what he had seen, neither had he been disgusted by it. He felt that he knew himself more now than he had when he had woken that morning. He could do those things he had witnessed, this revelation both excited and scared him, to know that he was capable of such things without flinching, His mind was made up, he would leave with them.

Heinz watched his son sprint towards him- a wolfish smile on his young face, proud that his boy had not looked away. Not at the harsh reality presented to him, nor could he ever recall Daxen shrinking from any challenge. His heart swelled and ached; he would miss his youngest son, but trusted that he would come back to them. As all their family did, to this land that called to their very bones. Steady and solid as a boulder he let his son sprint into his arms, to be swung high, just as he had been when he could still fit in one hand. Sunlight flashed down spotlighting man and boy as they embraced, knowing that they were losing each other, no matter how temporarily. The returning Wolves howled in welcome, as though they could sense that a new member of the pack was coming home.