FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*****

Chapter Seventy Two

*****

The warm desert sun upon his gray fur was a soothing balm for Vakaal's soul. They were allowed more leeway these days, and being outside in his beloved desert was one of the few things that eased his worries. His people were made for the heat. To Vakaal, even the hot sunshine felt cooler than sitting indoors, where there was no breeze to stir the stuffy, musty air.

Outside, when the warm wind ruffled his fur, he could close his eyes and pretend he was home again. Such daydreams never lasted long. The breeze carried with it the stench of the city built around the citadel. It reeked of too many people and too many animals crammed into one place. When humans overheated, they smelled sour and unpleasant. The animal pens were rarely cleaned, and smelled of rotten excrement.

Today, though, the scent of clean, fresh water overwhelmed everything. The winds shifted and swirled just right, carrying with them the smells of the oasis ponds that dotted the storytellers' city. The fortress was built near several natural ponds, fed by bubbling springs. The storytellers also built devices to help them pump water from beneath the sand. One of the natural ponds lay near the castle, and whenever Vakaal was allowed outside, it was his favorite place to visit.

He followed the scent of water past several outbuildings, towards the small, deep pond just outside the fortress' shadow. A few trails in the earth wound around it. Several clusters of beautiful hand-fruit trees sat all around the water, with reeds lining sections of shoreline. One side of the pond had an open, sandy bank. Inhabitants of both the town, and the fort often came there to collect water.

Though the storytellers' slave dragons had their own pond outside the walls, they sometimes visited the inner ponds to enjoy the deeper, cooler water. Today, there was one dragon there, a copper and green female lapping up water. Vakaal recognized her as they approached the pond. It was the female he'd healed, years back, when they were first caught.

When she saw Vakaal and his father coming, followed by their robed escorts, she bent her neck, pressing her muzzle to the ground before him. Vakaal giggled and shook his head. He didn't get to see the dragons often, but whenever one saw him, they bowed their heads. He walked right up to her and put his hand on her neck, stroking her copper and green scales.

"Hello!" Vakaal patted her, then stepped back. He didn't want to get her in trouble. "It's nice to see you're well."

"As are you, it seems." The female's voice was subdued, almost a whisper. Probably because of the guards. "That is heartening."

"You say that like..." Vakaal trailed off when an odd memory hit him. The night he'd healed her, she told him to run. Told him the storytellers couldn't catch him if he did. "You knew what they'd do to us."

The dragon cringed and looked away, shifting her weight. "I knew what they wanted from you. I know what sort of monster Lovro is. And when you helped us, after we fought you, I knew you didn't deserve this."

Vakaal moved forward and wrapped an arm around her lowered neck, best he could. He hugged her, smiling. "Thank you for trying to help. If you ever escape...fly south." Vakaal lifted his free arm, pointing, making sure she saw which direction. "I've seen their maps. You could follow the oasis springs, they dot the land like a trail to...well, I don't know what's past the edge of the map."

The dragon rumbled, turning her head to smile at him. "Thank you for the tip. But there's no escape for us." She lifted a forepaw, tapping the black collar around her neck.

Vakaal shrugged. "No empire lasts forever. Even kings and emperors die. I've read enough of their stories to know that." Vakaal bared his fangs, glaring at the robed guards in the distance. "Just remember what I said." He smiled at the dragon. "If the time ever comes, fly south. You should go before they get angry."

She gave him an odd look, her wedge-shaped head tilted, her little spines raised. Then she nodded, and brushed her muzzle across his ear, whispering. "One day, you'll know what you are."

With that, the dragon leapt into the air. A single beat of her vast copper and green wings propelled her upwards, swirling sand and dead leaves in her wake. Before long she was out of sight beyond the wall that ringed the city.

Once the dragon was gone, Vakaal scrambled up the nearest hand-fruit tree. Though years had passed since he last helped harvest food for the tribe, the motions still came easily. In seconds, he was already up to the top of the tree, with his legs hooked around the course-barked trunk. In the old days, he'd have used his knife to cut the red fruit down, but since they wouldn't allow him to carry one, he had to wrench each piece free by hand. He got a few loose, and tossed them down to his father.

"You still get up there pretty quick." Father caught one, peeled back the rind with his claw tips, and took a big bite.

"Quicker than you, old creaky bones."

Vakaal worked a few more hand-fruits free for himself. He tore bits of rind free, and tossed them into the water below. Fish and shelled creatures swirled around them, nibbling. Vakaal took a bite of the fruit, and groaned in delight as the sweet juices washed over his tongue. How he loved the stuff. It reminded him of home. Back there, different groups of hand-fruit trees seemed to come into season at different times, so there was almost always ripe fruit somewhere. Here, they all seemed to ripen together in the...What season was it now? Vakaal didn't know, anymore.

As he ate, Vakaal glanced over his guards. The stern-faced men in robes stood beyond the pond, keeping a close watch on him. These days, they only sent Shapers to keep watch over him. The last time they sent the men they called soldiers to watch after them, one of them had pulled a knife to threaten him with. Thanks to the lessons from his father, Vakaal disarmed the man without even thinking about his powers. Not wanting to give them reason to hurt his father, he gave the knife back and walked off, smiling. After that, only Shapers stood guard.

Just as he was considering trying to bounce a hand-fruit off a robed man's head, something else caught his eye. From his position at the top of the tree, he could see down the nearby streets. Another urd'thin walked a narrow, dusty lane towards the oasis. A female, about his age or a little older, with stubby horns and soft brown fur peeking out of her blue clothes. She carried a large water jug, her bushy brown tail swishing back and forth with every step.

When the female reached the water, she saw footprints in the sand, and glanced up into the trees. Vakaal gave her a little wave, waggling his fingers. She smiled and returned the gesture, then knelt in the sand to fill her jug. Father walked closer to lean against Vakaal's tree. He took a big bite of fruit and glanced up at his son.

"Go talk to her." Father whispered, tilting his head in the female's direction.

Vakaal shook his head. As much as his wounded heart longed for the companionship of his own people, he knew only bad things would come of it. Any friendships he made with the other urd'thin would just be another tool for Lovro to use against him, another way for the madman to hurt him whenever Vakaal didn't give him what he wanted. He slid back down the tree, and into the sand. When the female looked over at him again, he gave her a little bow. She giggled and dipped her head as she filled her jug.

The pup crouched along the shoreline. He scooped up a handful of sand, let it run between his fingers. He repeated the process, over and over, watching the sand pour from his hands back to the earth. Vakaal murmured to himself.

"The pup wanted her to have a happy memory." Vakaal's voice was a barely audible murmur. "The pup wanted her to have a little joy in this ugly place."

The manacles rattled against each other. Vakaal glanced down. All the sand that cascaded between his fingers formed itself into a figurine. Smiling, he lifted it up and examined it. It was the female pup, with a big grin on her muzzle and her arms thrust into the air, as if in triumph. Something for her to look upon and smile whenever she had a dark moment. Vakaal knew in a place like this, she had far too many of them.

"Hey!" He called out to get her attention. When she looked over, he flashed her a grin. "Catch."

The young female gave a startled squeak when Vakaal tossed it to her. She dropped her wooden jug into water, but caught the figure with both hands.

"Erm, sorry." Vakaal ran a hand back over his ears.

The female got her jug, then inspected the little figure. Her eyes lit up, and her ears perked. She wagged her tail a few times, beaming. "It's beautiful! Did...did you make this?" She glanced up at him, ears swiveled back. "How...how did..."

Vakaal only answered with a nod. "Just...look at it when you're sad." He glanced back at his Father, who was smiling at him. "And remember to try and find something to be happy about, whenever you can."

"Th-thank you." The female pushed back to her feet, the jug under one arm, the figure clutched to her chest. "What...what's your name?"

"You should go." Vakaal swallowed. He wished he could tell her. Talk to her. But he didn't want to get her hurt. "I'm sorry."

The female glanced at the men in robes standing nearby, and nodded. She gave Vakaal one last little wave, and then hurried back down the same street she'd arrived from. At least she understood. Vakaal had a hundred questions. Who was she, what was her name, how had she ended up here, what did she do in this city, did she want to hear any of his stories? He knew it was best if those questions were never answered.

Father put an arm around Vakaal's shoulders, hugging him. "That'll make her happy. Good work, pup."

Smiling, Vakaal leaned against his father. "Thanks. It'll be good for her to have something that makes her smile, when-"

"Showing off for the ladies?" Lovro's voice was a maddening knife cutting through their peaceful moment. "My, you are getting older. Maybe I'll have her dragged up to your room sometime, so she can learn how to reward you when start doing what I ask."

Vakaal whirled away from his father to find Lovro standing between his guards, his golden robe billowing around him in the wind. "You leave her alone!"

"Oh, don't get your fur all bristled." Lovro waved his hand, clucking his tongue. "I don't care which little fuzzy rat harlot gets your blood pumping. I only care about results. Speaking of which, that's a neat trick you did with the sand. You keep finding ways to slip your shackles, and we're going to build you a shadowstone helmet, or something." The older man cackled, striding forward. "Like a magic chastity belt for your head."

Vakaal bared his fangs, snarling. Just how long had Lovro been there, watching? He could have sworn that lunatic wasn't there only a moment earlier. Had he used his shaping to conceal his approach? To hide himself from sight? Though Vakaal knew his shaping was growing, Lovro had so many little tricks he knew how to do with his powers. It made Vakaal wonder what else _he_could do, if he refined his powers the same way. Conceal himself in plain sight? Alter thoughts? Memories?

In the distance, Jirim stood with his hand on his son's shoulder. A shiver ran under Vakaal's fur. That was never a good sign. Usually that meant there was something Lovro wanted the boy to see, some lesson for him to learn.

"Leave him alone." Father strode forward, a growl rising in his throat. His fur bristled, and his tail bushed out in agitation. "This is _our_day! He needs time to recover, to heal. You can't keep-"

"He needs time to heal?" Lovro walked right up to Father, poking the urd'thin in the chest. Until he came to this place, Vakaal had never really noticed how much taller the average human was than the average urd'thin. Father was tall for his people's standards, and yet Lovro was still a head taller. "Well that's strange. The way I remember it is, you're the one who usually ends up hurt."

"He's a godsdamned pup!" Father flattened his ears back in anger, every word a furious bark. He shoved Lovro hard enough to send the startled man stumbling back. "What do you think this does to him? You think he's not wounded? You think he's not scarred? What you're making him see, what you're forcing him to do, those are not wounds that_can_ be healed! Stop this madness! He's had enough! Let him go while he's still hope in his heart to cling to, while there's still goodness in him! Let my son go free, and I'll..." Father took a deep breath. His every word left a bigger hole in Vakaal's heart. He knew, in the back of his mind, what his father must think, how much it must pain him to see his own son put through this. What he must fear was happening to Vakaal's soul. But he'd never heard Father put those fears to words, till now. He sighed, as defeated as Vakaal had ever heard. "I'll do whatever you want."

Vakaal gasped, grabbing at father's hand. "Father, you can't! You told me yourself, we can't ever do what they want, or the gods will-"

"If the gods haven't helped us now, when will they? If they won't save you, then maybe my own sacrifice still can." Father grimaced, his whole muzzle twisted up in heartsick pain. He glared at Lovro. "I mean what I say...let my son go, and I will go with you, to any world you want, and I will help you heal it."

"Touching." Lovro yawned, then flourished a hand. "The problem is, I don't think you're strong enough. I think only he is, and you're just trying to keep him out of our grasp."

"Then let my father go!" Vakaal pushed past his father to glare up at Lovro, anger boiling in his blood, every fang bared. "Let him go, and _I'll_do what you want."

"Listen to you, trying to bargain like a big boy." Lovro patted Vakaal's head. Vakaal snapped his teeth, trying to bite off the man's fingers, but Lovro's hand was already out of the way. "But see, you just came out and said you can't do what we want of you, because of gods this, and gods that. I hate to tell you, little pup, but your father's right. Whatever gods you think are going to punish you for helping us are long vanished. You see, in a way, we came looking for a god, and all we found was..." He gave Vakaal's father a dismissive wave. "Your gods are dead, pup, and it's just you left in this rotten world."

"Then it won't matter if I do what you want!" Vakaal glanced back at his father, then at Lovro again. He balled up his fists, squaring his shoulders, his tail straight out behind him. "Let my father go, and I'll do as you ask. But only if you stop hurting him!"

"Well there's the other problem, isn't it? How am I going to train you if you don't have anyone to heal? Suppose I could use that water girl just now."

"No!" Vakaal shouted, struggling to keep the fear out of his voice. "Leave her alone!"

"Then I have to use your father, don't I?" Lovro folded his arms, glaring at the two urd'thin. "As much as I appreciate your sudden interest in helping my people, I'm not quite sure I believe it. Not that it matters, if you're still not strong enough. Been doing a lot of practicing though, haven't you?"

"I'm stronger than you know..." Vakaal sucked in a snarling breath through grit teeth. "I'll be a great hero, someday! Just like in the stories I write!"

"That's enough, Vakaal." Father put a hand on Vakaal's shoulder, pulling him back. He sounded as broken as Vakaal sometimes felt.

"Oh, are you?" Lovro only laughed, waving his hands around. "Been practicing, have we? Think we don't know about your little training sessions? Yanno, Jirim and I had a bet." He glanced over his shoulder.

Jirim's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Lovro, don't! It's not important."

"Oh, I think it is! Well then, little hero." Lovro turned back towards the two urd'thin, a twisted smile on his face. "Let's see how strong you've _really_become!"

In one smith, fluid motion, Lovro produced his knife from the sleeve of his robe, and drove the blade into Father's chest. Father didn't even have time to cry out. He gasped and coughed blood, stumbling backwards. Vakaal screamed, high and horrified, as his father fell to his knees, clutching at the dagger protruding from his chest, buried to its hilt. Blood ran down Father's muzzle, and over his chest. With his free hand, he reached for Vakaal, hand shaking. Then he toppled onto the sands around the oasis, sprawled on his back.

Panic and terror pierced Vakaal's heart so deeply it was as if he was the one who'd been stabbed. For all the cruel tortures Lovro subjected Father to, for all the times he'd cut him up and made Vakaal fix him, he'd never done something fatal. He'd opened his leg, told Vakaal he'd bleed out if he didn't heal him soon, but nothing like this.

"NO!" Vakaal squealed his horror, dropping to his father's side. "No! Nooooo, Father, noooooo!"

"Oh, I don't think you've got time for your usual sobbing theatrics." Lovro took a few steps back. The air around him shifted, the sands stirred. Vakaal knew he was calling up his shaping to deflect anything Vakaal's rage sent after him, but the pup didn't care about Lovro right now. "If I'm not mistaken I've just pierced his heart. Why, the shock alone is probably enough to kill him, but if not, it won't be long till he's all bled dry. So, you'd better get to it. For the record..." He folded his arms, grinning. "I'm betting you can save him. But don't dally, or I'll owe Jirim an ale."

Heal! Heal! Heal! Please heal! Heal!

Wide-eyed and panting, Vakaal struggled to heal his father. His panic was a fortress built around his shaping, keeping it at bay. Every time Lovro did something worse, he doubted himself a little more, and his healing became a little harder to call. But now, it wasn't just pain he wanted to stave off, it was death. If he didn't heal his father immediately, he was going to die. So why couldn't he do it?

Stop panicking, he told himself. You can do it. You must do it!

With tears streaming down his muzzle, Vakaal put his hands out over his father. He had to take out the knife before he could close the wound, before he could mend Father's heart. Father touched his hand. Though it was but a gentle brush, Vakaal knew Father was trying to push him away. Blood caked his father's muzzle, stained his beautiful gray fur. Gagging on his own blood, Father shook his head.

"But you'll die!" Vakaal pressed his face to his father's, tearing mingling with blood. "I...I can't! I can't lose you!"

Father tried to mouth words. Vakaal heard them in his mind.

Let me go. It's okay...

"Nooooo!" Vakaal sobbed, clutching at his father's blood-soaked fur. "No! I'll be alone!"

You'll be free.

"I love you!" Vakaal's sobs grew louder. All at once, every shackle he had started to rattle, louder and louder. "I love you, Father! Please...please, don't make me...I can't do this!"

"Lovro!" Jirim's voice, somewhere in the distance, was stretched and taut. "You're pushing him too damn far!"

"Nonsense. Even if he dies, we'll just drag that girl or one of the others."

"That's not what I'm talking about!"

"The collar will hold. It's made for things far stronger than some world-bending urd'thin."

Vakaal ignored them, wrapping his hand around the dagger. Father mouthed words again. Blood ran from his jaws, puddling across his throat. It dribbled to the sand in dark lines.

Let me go. Free yourself.

"I...I can't...I'm sorry...I can't..." Vakaal pulled the knife free with trembling hands. Father's back arched, blood poured from the wound. "I love you, I love you!"

Father's head fell back against the sandy shore. Somehow, his hand found Vakaal's. He lacked the strength to squeeze, but the gesture was there. Father's tail twitched, the closest he could to giving it a happy, reassuring swish. Without even trying to speak, Father was telling him it was alright. He knew why Vakaal couldn't let him go. He couldn't let Vakaal go, either.

Vakaal dropped the knife and pressed himself to his father's bloodied form, crying until his sobs hurt. He just wanted his father to be healed. He just wanted his father to live.

He just wanted his father to be healed. He just wanted his father to live.

The collar shook around his throat, and as water overrunning a dam, Vakaal felt his healing pour across the collar's wall. It rushed into his father. Somewhere in the distance, Jirim cursed. Lovro swore too. The ground vibrated beneath Vakaal and his father. Water sloshed in the oasis. The sand hardened. And all the while, Vakaal cried.

Father shifted, groaning. He managed to lift a hand to put it on Vakaal's head, between his horns. Vakaal lifted his head just enough to see pink skin closing the wound in father's chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, joy overwhelming his horror for a moment.

"Father!" He wrapped his arms around the older urd'thin, hugging him tight.

"Hey, pup." Father took a trembling breath. "S'enough now."

Enough? Enough what?

Vakaal took a quick glance around. The whole world seemed bent towards him, as if they were inside an immense, spherical prism. The oasis sloshed. The sands beneath them were black, tiny grains of darkness, not unlike their collar. Indigo motes and sparks whirled all around their little prism of existence, and far, far above them, red-gold clouds churned in the sky, something flickering and blue hidden deep within.

It all seemed beyond explanation, and Vakaal dismissed it out of hand. All that mattered now was that his father survived. As Father sat up, Vakaal hugged him again. All the strange things around them faded. Vakaal was still crying, and as Father tried to catch his breath, a deep sense of shame settled over Vakaal. His father had asked him to let him die, and Vakaal...

Vakaal had so selfishly refused.

As the pup sobbed, he shook his head, hating himself in that moment. "I'm sorry, Father! I'm...I'm so...sorry! I...I just...I couldn't lose you. I'm...I'm sorry, please, forgive me! I just...I love you!"

"Oh, pup, don't cry over that!" Father's voice broke with his sons. He wrapped both arms tight around Vakaal, rubbing his back. "I...I didn't want to lose you either, Vakaal! You've always been the best, the very best part of my life. I just...I wanted you to be free. The only power they have over you, is me, and...Vakaal, I can't keep watching them do this to you, over and over, year after year! There's...a way out, but...I wanted to give you a better way. Sometimes I feel like I've already failed you, I know what's coming, and...gods help me, part of me wants it. Because when it happens, you won't have to suffer this anymore."

Vakaal pinned his ears, staring up at his father through bleary, tear-filled eyes. "I'm not the one who suffers, though!"

"Oh, Vakaal, you are. Your pain is so much worse than mine, and so much more lasting. And it's...it's so...so unfair. I never...I never should have let this happen. I tried to raise you right, tried to...show you the best way to live your life. But...I...Vakaal, you're different, even from me. I just wanted you to...to live a good life, to be...to be a good person. I thought if I taught you about the gods..." He trailed off, staring at the blood caking the pup's fur. "They're not coming, Vakaal. There's no punishment. The only gods here...We're...suffering. You're...suffering. For nothing. I'm sorry, pup, I'm so, so sorry..."

When Father collapsed against Vakaal, it was all the pup could do to hold him upright. He stroked Father's ears, nuzzled his head, rubbed his back. All the things father did for him, when he was the one sobbing, scared and confused. "It's alright, Father. It'll be alright. We'll be okay. I'll...I'll tell a better story for us, someday...we'll be happy again. I just want you to be happy..."

Though Vakaal wanted his father to feel better, for some reason his words only made the older urd'thin cry harder. So Vakaal held his father as he sobbed, hoping to bring him whatever comfort he could. When his father finally lifted his head, he nuzzled Vakaal's cheek, then kissed his head, just between his horns.

"Thank you, Pup."

Vakaal managed a weak smile. "Of course." He pushed at Father's muzzle, trying to make him smile, too. "Now cut it out, you're getting' me all bloody."

Father gave a soft laugh. He eased up to his feet, and held his hand out. Vakaal took it, and Father pulled him to his feet. Once he was standing, he gazed around. Everyone else now stood much farther away than before. Jirim looked rattled, and his son, gazing so impassively while Vakaal's father lay dying, now hid behind his own father. Vakaal took a step forward. The ground crunched beneath his feet. All the sand around him now looked like shattered black glass.

"I think that's enough father-son time for one day." Lovro took a few steps towards them, a hint of nervousness creeping into his usual exaggerated bravado. "You're definitely showing a lot of improvement. See Jirim? Told you he could do it." He lowered his voice as if whispering to Vakaal. "Jirim didn't think you could save him." Then he waved his fingers in the air. "Separate them. I don't want them seeing each other again until I say otherwise."

Vakaal walked across the broken black glass until he stood just before Lovro. He tilted his head back and stared at Lovro's face. Without ever blinking, he wiped his bloody hands off on Lovro's golden robe. Lovro's face reddened. Vakaal used the robe to wipe down his face, as well. Then he let go of the fabric, hissing.

"One day soon I'm going to erase you."

The other robed men who'd been watching Vakaal early came forward with slow, hesitant steps. One of them gestured at Vakaal's father. "If you'll...come with us. Uh...please."

Vakaal growled at them, but Father moved to hug the pup around his shoulders. "It's alright, Vakaal. I'll see you soon."

Then he leaned down to whisper into Vakaal's ear. Vakaal's eyes widened. Father gave him a single nod, and turned his smoldering gaze to Lovro. "When it happens...and it's going to happen soon. Remember this. I tried to stop it. I gave you every chance I could to prevent it. And now it's too late. I won't hold him back anymore."

As they escorted his father off, Lovro pointed for the castle. Vakaal gave him an obscene gesture, and then trudged across the sand. Lovro and Jirim talked behind as they followed him. Something about him doing things that should be impossible. Vakaal's mind was elsewhere, fixated on Father's whispered words.

Solve their riddle. Solve their riddle, and you'll know why they can never hold you.

And then set us free.

*****

Thank you for reading! If you've enjoyed, please click the FAVE button and leave a comment with your thoughts...