“So, time to prepare for yer journey, Siúlóir”

“Now, wait a minute...” Enough was enough, and things were already moving a little too quickly for comfort. He had been too off-balance due to the sudden chain of events.

“Before you send me anywhere, I need some answers!” He added forcefully.

“Hold yer horses, lad. Done everyt’ing I can for ye here.” her eyes narrowed angrily.

“Even let ye do a ‘Dreamwalk.’ Ye’re not actually part of the skulk!”

He swallowed his next words. She was right, yes. Rituals such as these were usually reserved for members of the tribe. And judging by the amount of spices and dried herbs she threw into the fire, the preparations of ingredients would have taken considerable time. Surely the old vixen hadn’t planned …

“D’ye have any silver coins? Looks like ye have nothing but the clothes on yer back ...”

Of course she did … how ‘foxy' of her.

“I never asked ...”

“Oh, hold yer drakes … not like I plan on asking anyting unreasonable”

Oh, he wouldn’t bet on it. She would, he was all but certain of it. She couldn’t have his first-born, though!, he silently decided. His eyes glanced at Enda.

The ‘Dreamwalk’ side effects were still getting to him, he protested angrily in his mind.

“So what do you want from me?” Just listening wouldn’t hurt. Maybe he could learn something. Something he could use, later.

“Not’ing much. Just go wid’ Enda, and Fío over t’ere, and rescue me skulk.”

With a wicked grin on her face, the older woman said leisurely.

“And in return, t’ey’ll help you until d’e next village. From d’ere, best make yer way to a seer or a wizard. T’ey might be able to help ya.”

He eyed her suspiciously, before massaging his chin in deep thought.

So only until the next village? He wasn’t certain whether the offer was good or bad. He did not know the lay of the land, so stumbling through the forest looking for civilization seemed dangerous. Judging by the attack on the village, ruffians and bandits roamed as well. ‘Scar’ was injured, so he managed to take him out fast, but should he happen on a group, maybe even better armed.

He shuddered at the thought.

Certainly, the offer would be useful. But rescuing a large amount of people? He didn’t even know how many were-dogs attacked initially.

“I can’t do much with only three people ...”

And he couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. But sitting around lazily while people were in trouble? Somehow it didn’t feel right to him. Another shiver ran down his spine. Had he been a goody-two-shoes? Was that the reason he was brought to this place?

“We don’t need him! I can ...” Enda wasn’t too taken with the idea.

Fíodóir ... Fío chose this time to intervene.

“You’ve been on the Dreamwalk with us. Even you should realize that ...”

“I ... DON’T ... CARE!” Enda emphasized every syllable. If this continued he might actually feel hurt!

The tightness in his chest proved him too late. Seriously, had he done anything to warrant such animosity? Searching Enda’s expression for an answer, their line of sights overlapped.

He looked into her golden eyes, some red flecks within, and intensified his gaze.

Neither wanted to look away, each for different reasons.

The ‘Dreamwalk’ was apparently still wreaking havoc with his emotions.

Enda broke eye contact first. A faint blush on her cheeks, before he could only see the ponytail tied on the back of her head. His gaze wandered towards her exposed neck, the skin almost white. She had some fur there … truly not human.

“H-he looks weak. A-and he’d … he’d only slow me down.”

“Enda ...” the old vixen voice sounded almost motherly, “dis is not a debate. Don’t make me order ya to do it.”

Enda growled. After taking a deep breath, she turned towards the old granny, bowed deeply and answered in a subdued tone.

“If that is what t’e elder wishes... Please allow t’is one to prepare for d’e pursuit. And give me a chance to explain to my siblings”

“Agreed. Send d’em to me afterwards. I’ll take care of d’em while yer gone.”

Enda did not answer, simply bowed again before standing up to leave. Síulóir watched her warmly as she left in a hurry, before returning his attention to the old vixen, sitting comfortably on her cushion. The dying fire bathed her in reddish glow. A smile was on her lips and her eyes betrayed her anticipation. What was she planning now?

Fío, who remained partially hidden in the shadows, waited for Enda to leave before recounting the events of the ‘Dreamwalk.’ It was the first time he learned the old female's name, Druanta.

Not that it told him anything useful, not that he was expecting it to.

Old granny Druanta was listening intently with eyes closed, probably imagining the scenes in her mind.

When the story reached the forest circle that must have appeared with him in the clearing, it was quickly drawn into the ground. The both of them studied it for awhile, before giving up, shaking their heads in defeat.

While they were busy discussing the potential origins and implications of the design, he committed it to paper, glad the satchel had provided it for him.

It took him a full minute to explain to a highly excited Fío that the tools he were using were called ‘pencil’ and ‘paper’, but that he couldn’t provide her with more information, unsure he would have known even with his memory intact.

Dangerous thoughts raced through his mind as Fío’s light blue tongue licked the tip of the pencil. He buried them deep in the back of his mind, hoping the effects of the ‘Dreamwalk’ would leave him be, soon. A small annoying voice taunting him hungrily in the same area of his mind was promptly ignored.

Her rather annoying sounding high-pitched school girl voice helped fight down any improper bodily responses from embarrassing him further.

Plus, repeatedly explaining that, even if he knew the pencil wasn’t made from actual coal, but from a material known as graphite, not being able to reveal what exactly it was or how it was made did wonders to cool any excitement.

He would have thanked old Druanta for forcing Fío back on task with one skilled whack to the head, but Siúlóir was wary of any attached price tags. Instead, he focused his attention on the little fairy next to him, showing him a variety of expressions.

She wore her emotions on her sleeves, so to speak, as every time the Arachnid came close to him, she would puff up her cheeks angrily, trying to get in between the two, and after Fío left, the fairy would wear a triumphant smile. At some point he suspected Fío of doing it intentionally, just to get a rise out of the little one.

“Do you have a name?” Síuliór asked the floating girl during one of her ‘victorious’ moments, trying to distract himself from both the flirtatious Arachnid and his own feelings of uselessness. And that other one, fighting to get out of the ‘prison’ he had forced it into. Unfortunately he still couldn’t understand the series of jingles and chimes she used as a language, but the old vixen provided translation, even if with a bored tone.

“Says she doesn’t have a name”

Her interest rose when the little fairy probably said something audacious, judging from her flushed cheeks. “Wants ya to give her one ...”

Just as he promised her he would think of one, Enda returned, the two siblings in tow.

The young boy, Aodhan, was still somewhat subdued, but Ciaráh beamed when she saw him.

Her excited approach was cut short when the little spirit sped towards her, stopping right in front of the girl’s face. An angry exchange occurred between the two, which came to a sudden pause as the two eyed him suspiciously.

He felt a sudden chill as they nodded towards each other, having come to some sort of agreement. Then the two flanked him, throwing angry glares at both Fío and Enda, much to the surprise of the older sister. Fío merely let loose an amused giggle.

The comedy routine was broken when the spider-Matriarch returned with an young fox male, breathing heavily.

Like Enda, he was only lightly armored, and carried but a single short curved blade in a sheath fastened to his lower back. A scout, Síuliór guessed, returning with news of the assailants and the captured skulk.

His expectation were not betrayed when the scout began to inform them of his findings.

Three carriages filled with their skulk had been traveling westwards, and a large number of were-dogs, Cŵn Nrwnn as the the scout called them, were guarding them. Four hooded strangers were part of the group that was keeping watch over one of the carriages. They did not appear to be part of the ‘hounds’, even if the Cŵn would carry out their orders.

They were about half a day away from some river that appeared to be a border of the foxen territory, so the scout urged the elders to send reinforcements quickly, in the hope they could free their skulk.

“Guthrie, you have done well, rest up, and join de ot’ers when dey set off.”

Guthrie, the scout, bowed quickly before he left, and a pensive mood enveloped the group, as they digested the information. Ciaráh and Aodhan looked worriedly at their sister, who could hardly contain her eagerness to leave. The spider-Matriarch and Druanta were deep in conversation while Fío continued to observe him.

He expected he would come to regret this, but somehow, he had to do something, anything to help. An inner pressure almost compelled him to. Was he really the ‘goody-two-shoes’ he expected? Hoping it would not get him killed in the long run, he broke the heavy silence.

“Fine, I get it. I agree to help!”

Although he couldn’t be sure, but he expected the old vixen to be smiling, maybe even thinking ‘Gotcha,’ before she turned to him slowly.

“Don’t worry, lad, as I said before, d’ese two ...” she motioned to both Enda and Fíodóir, “as well as some warriors will join ya.”

Enda growled at that, clearly being less than enthused at his participation, while Fío simply accepted it like a forgone conclusion.

“And after, d’ey will lead ya to d’e next village. Maybe someone d’ere will be able to provide ye wid’ some help!”

The spider-matriarch threw a suspicious glance at the old vixen, apparently not having been privy to this detail before. But she did not disagree openly, having most likely come to a similar conclusion.

“D’e merchant says d’at t’ere’s a large tower deep in d’e lands to d’e south-west, where wizards gather, studying t’eir craft. You should find clues there, if not in t’e village.”

She stopped for a moment, and added cautiously.

“Best keep t’e meadow spirit to yerself at first. And d’at little wind fairy over d’ere as well.”

He looked worriedly at the little spirit next to him, and she nodded enthusiastically. She stopped suddenly, staggering. Apparently she could get dizzy. A grin forced the corners of his lips to rise, much to the chagrin of Ciaráh, who looked at the little fairy menacingly.

“We prepared some weapons for ya to use, but we had no armor in yer size.”

Ciaráh jumped up at that, and sped quickly to the elders. She came back carrying a curved sword, maybe 60cm in length. The term o-wakizashi flashed before his mind, but even if the blade was curved, the hand guard seemed off.

A lacquered sheath, similarly curved, was presented to him alongside the blade, by a beaming Ciaráh. The little wind fairy started hovering over it, inspecting the blade with great interest.

He gripped the handle tentatively, before inspecting the curvature and the weight of the blade.

Almost stopping himself, unsure of what exactly he was doing, he allowed his body to move by whatever instinct moved him.

“Does the blade have a name?”

“Uhm … no” A disappointing answer from the old fox, tilting her head in confusion, as if he just asked something foolish.

“Maybe ‘Pointy stick’?” Druanta added after short consideration.

“Nevermind.” He answered while sheathing the sword in one swift motion, careful not to force the blade into the sheath. He suppressed the urge to inquire as to how the act felt so practiced. Hopefully he would find some sort of answers in the next village. Or in the ‘Wizard’s tower.’

Both Enda and Fío were casting interested glances at his practiced movement, Enda because she hadn’t seen anyone sheathing a sword like that, and Fío … he really didn’t wish to know.

The lustful glint in her eyes made him fear for the safety of his loins. Those claws could do some serious damage … She licked her lips seductively, the light blue tongue running slowly over them. An angry growl in front and an annoyed jingle of wind chimes at his side helped him focus.

Ciaráh had fetched some leather arm guards for him and offered to help him put them on, much to the annoyance of Enda. Fío … remained in the background, while the old vixen barely contained a snicker.

“Fine t’en, but if I have to take you with me, I have to know you can fight!” Enda suddenly interrupted the merry gathering.

Both elders eyed Enda suspiciously. Druanta had some vague idea of what Enda was planning. If Síulóir could not walk, he would have to stay and could not slow her down.

The old vixen inspected the stranger, finding a dejected look on his face.

Druanta had certain suspicions about him, and some of his emotions, and if they proved correct could lead to some interesting developments in the future.

She did prefer him over that blacksmith’s boy in any case. If he could only prove his strength.

“Fine d’en, but no weapons! Is t’at a’right wid’ you, lad?”

He heaved a big sigh. Of course, any unknown elements could prove disastrous in future engagements, he understood that. Still, the blatant distrust Enda had displayed so far had hurt his pride. Maybe he could score some points if he showed off his prowess. He did have some prowess, right?

The sudden thought gave him pause. ‘Scar’ had fallen pretty easily, but then, he was already panting and injured when they fought. No, a defeatist mindset would surely lead to defeat in the end. Besides, it would do him well to test his fighting skills. Know thyself as you know thy enemy.

But he didn’t know himself. Time to get acquainted. Partly.

But for that he needed to fight Enda. Even better if he won.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

* * *

The two combatants stood face to face. Enda crouched low, ready to pounce on her ‘enemy.’

The elder knew what she was planning, of course, judging by her not allowing weapons. Still, she could do some damage even with just her fists and claws.

She studied him.

Looking for any openings. Too many.

He just stood there, feet shoulder-width apart, and his arms dangling by his side. Even his face seemed vacant, the light in his eyes merely an illusion.

It was her idea to fight, and she would show him he wasn’t needed. During a hunt, no one would call to start a battle with the prey, so neither would she.

She took a breath and … pounced.

Her clawed hand sped forward, aiming at his head. She was certain of her victory.

Until her back slammed into the floor and the air was forced out of her lungs.

Stars were filling her vision when a sudden pressure on her elbow forced her to roll onto her stomach.

Then pain.

Between her shoulders and worse ...

A stabbing pain traveling from her wrist along her elbow.

A bored voice asking “Do you give?”

* * *

Enda attacked first without waiting for the signal.

The hotheaded agility type proved to be as predictable as expected.

Had he not mentally prepared himself, though, he might have actually lost. Her speed was honestly awe inspiring. He actually lost sight of her as she jumped up from her crouched position, another indicator of her attack pattern.

Her outstretched left hand almost reached his face, had he not sidestepped in a small semi-circle. Tai-Sabaki, another one of those words tried to force itself to his conscious mind, but he suppressed it, the momentary distraction could have proven disastrous.

While turning towards, and further, the approaching Enda, his right hand grabbed the outstretched wrist whizzing past his face, while his left hand moved to her stomach. Now it was a simply push and pull. Pull with the right and push with the left.

Enda somersaulted in the air, as Síolúir used the force of her forward momentum combined with his pushing motion to twist her in the air.

Fighting every instinct in himself to simply let her go careening into the ground, he pulled a little more forcefully on her wrist.

Thus Enda ‘landed’ on her back, mostly, the sudden pressure to her lungs forcing her to expel the breath she took earlier.

His hand did not let go of her wrist, though, even as his knee pushed against her elbow, turning the stunned Enda on her stomach.

After that, he let his knee fall between her shoulder, pinning her to the ground.

And now, to control the opponent, a twist of the wrist, clockwise and …

“Do you give?” he asked regretfully.

* * *

A few minutes later, they had finally managed to finish their preparation, most of them already done by the spider-Matriarch during the ‘Dreamwalk.’

His satchel provided space for some rations and he managed to refill the plastic bottle he had emptied.

The first aid kit, although already opened, could still prove useful, as enough of its contents remained.

From what he could find out about their level of technology and medicine, especially the concoction Enda was forced to swallow, he would probably prefer that over any ‘traditional’ remedies they could provide.

Ciaráh and the wind fairy, having bonded over something he did not wish to guess, were playing out their tearful goodbye, while Aodhan hugged his eldest sister tightly. Only after Enda promised him that she would return safely, did he finally relent, joining his other sister with granny Druanta. She looked surprisingly like a grandmother, being flanked by the two children.

Fío’s farewell was more ... subdued. She merely whispered something to the Matriarch before joining Síulóir and two other male warriors at the front ‘gate’ of the village.

While studying the wooden structure, just two thick wooden poles connected at the top by two rectangular beams, the term ‘Torii’ flashed before him, sounding similar to several of the other words that had surfaced in his mind.

They were not English, presumably not Irish either, some other language from the place he came from. They were heavily connected to the skills he had shown, he knew intuitively. If he could place that language, maybe some other pieces would fall into place.

Guthrie joined the group shortly thereafter, saying his farewells to single elderly fox, streaks of dried tears on his cheeks. A cub stood behind the old ‘man,’ trying to remain hidden from view, but stealing furtive glances at the group. Guthrie looked back, whispering a promise to return their sister.

The ‘Wanderer’ stopped his investigation of the gate to survey the group. They were six in total, him, Enda, Fío, Guthrie and two unnamed warrior. Seven if you counted the little wind fairy. He really should give her a name already.

The warriors, more heavily armored than the scout, as they were actually wearing laminar armor around their stomach and chest. He scanned its segments curiously. Leather ‘scales’ were tied together with string, probably provided by the spiders, an easy guess, considering the symbiotic relationship the groups seemed to have.

His focus shifted upwards, to the many webs and colonies that dotted the trees. Some were scorched, a testament to the earlier attack, the smell of sulphur still lingering in the air.

“Let’s get *cough* moving!” Enda exclaimed impatiently, coughing once.

One last look back, one more check of the arm guards Ciaráh had given him, and on last tug at the o-wakizashi that was fastened to his left hip, and Síulóir set off with the group.

Author's Notes:

This was originally meant as a chapter titled "Pursuit" but as I was writing it turned more and more into a preparations chapter, hence the title change.

And in any case, due to the necessity of speed in the pursuit, I didn't wish to spent between 2.000 and 3.000 words to draw it out, the standard length of a chapter so far.

Also, after reading one of the comments about the 'wishy-washy' nature of harem protagonists I realized that, although it fit into the narrative and I thought it was funny, the MC being pushed around by the girls could prove dangerous in the long run, as I don't particularly enjoy the weak harem protagonist either. So I added the fight scene near the end. I thought it kinda belonged, especially since Enda would surely not allow Síulóir to join her if she thought of him as dragging her down.

I only did a 'quick-edit' by reading through the chapter out loud and correcting any mistakes I found, so if you discover any I missed, let me know in the comments.

The reader participation thread is meant for discussions of the story, such as gripes or wishes, while the character thread is meant for, you might have guessed it, discussing the characters, I strongly recommend,-and secretly hope that- you use them.

They're not only meant to give you a chance at a discussion, but to help me improve the story and the characters.

Plus the tables were a lot of work.

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