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The solitary creature, Instinct, eyed his prospect with firmness in his gaze that hinted at deceit in the depths of his lifeless, colorless eyes. He would make sure the transaction would not fail, despite the countenance of the Al-demorta. Unity had been a thorn in his side for far too long, and she had finally dug in too deep. But now he had the means to provoke her. Unity would be vanquished, and so would the reign of orderness in the world. Instinct knew of the Aldemer and there lust for knowledge. Of course, the mind that speaks in logic cannot ignore dominion. The morta are not so unpredictable, and the necessities of nature are not easily ignored.

411 ~S Kingdom of Clarity, 14th Provenance of the Martyr

The sun proffered warmth in its amber radiance as it found its way between the thin, silver clouds of the air and the farmlands on the horizon. In its reassurance Howl could not have felt more at peace.

And yet, alone he stood against the upper balcony of his castle, his arms limp over the rails, peering dully toward the horizon and distant hills with sunken shoulders, not the soft wind nor the gentle warmth of the sun could reawaken the numbness he felt in his body and his heart while his once dependable countenance of strength finally failed him.

His pale-white and tan muzzle was streaked in tears that were smeared across cheeks and whiskers. His body felt as if it was wrapped in an invisible shawl that wanted to suffocate the last hopes he had ever felt and lock them deep within his chest, all so he could finally know the agony that was the loss of an endeared he had been so favored to have never felt... until now.

Howl, a jackal, leaned against the railing in the most forlorn state, watching the clouds roll beyond the hills and the sun making its slow descent, not caring who saw him and with every intention of ignoring the castles inhabitants. If a noble or caretaker stood in the door, waiting to approach, he would wave his tail in dismissal. The only support he allowed was the railing at the top of the castle beyond his father's quarters, to which he knew he must soon assume, and yet, a place that no longer felt like home.

A little while after the sun had passed over the hills, Howl pushed himself from the railing. It was colder now, though he still could not get a sense of the atmosphere around him. Fier, his father's closest friend and scribe, had left a long letter on his father's desk, written in fine acrylic ink, and although Howl was curious to what see it contained, he did not have the heart to read it.

Fier had always been a loyal friend to both him and his father, and his way with words exceeded his title, though no words right now could dissolve the agony in Howl's mind. Only sleep and time would do that, and in his weariness he wanted nothing more than to sleep for eternity. And so, in his state, he pulled himself beneath his father's bed sheets, before he realized his mistake.

Although revulsion would have normally forced him to his feet, he was too tired to move and could not think of his father in such a way. He soon perceived the comforts the bed provided, wrapped amid its rough linen. The dizziness finally took over, and soon he was succumb to sleep.

"Are you awake?" The voice was a soft hiss, yet it was enough to force Howl from his slumber. Howl just barely perceived the word awake, and it chilled him to the bones. He sat bolt upright.

"Who's there?" he said, rather loudly as he was caught off guard, but not loud enough to alert the guards. He peered around wildly, and spotted a dark shadow. He relaxed when he recognized the source. The light from the window shone upon a spotted hyena, his friend, Trillith, standing in a corner of the room.

"Why are you here?" Howl asked

Trillith shuffled nervously. He seemed to be holding something inside himself."It was dangerous getting in here, and I can't stay for long. How about you meet me, early morning, in the castle dungeons? It's the only place I feel comfortable talking privately."

Trillith did seem rather jumpy, Howl noticed. The hyena kept shuffling his feet, and the fur on his neck was all ruffled up.

A long time ago, when Trillith and he were friends, Trillith told him of his father's practice and his own bad luck. His father, a travelling apothecary, had made a deal with a witch who tried to swindle him for black merchandise. Nothing happened to his father, but Trillith had always told him that he suspected it was some sort of curse, and that was why his ears were black. Howl always laughed at this, but he knew better than to tease his friend about the matter.

It had started to rain, and droplets of water splattered gently on the window. Storm clouds had already reached over the castle, and Howl could hear thunder. A flash of lightning made them both jerk, but Trillith was the one who jumped the highest.

"Please, I have to go. You will be there?" said Trillith shyly, inching closer toward the window.

"If it's that important to you, then I will be there." Howl rubbed his neck, feeling a little awkward. "It's started to rain, and I fear the storm. You should not go outside. Would you like to stay here for the night? I will inform the guards."

The hyena shifted again to his other foot. Howl saw the fur around Trillith's face lift, which caused the fur around his own face to tingle and grow in warmth. He still felt a little numb, but at the same time he would love for the warmth and comfort of his friend beside him, and to share with him his remorse. He did not, however, want to cause his friend discomfort, or put him in any danger.

"No, I should get going." Trillith pulled his cloak over his ears, which were soot black. Howl saw a flash just before his face was covered, like a piece of metal or jewelry were attached to his friend's ear. Howl had never known his friend to wear jewelry.

His friend padded to the balcony and lifted it open, then smoothly disappeared into the night. Howl wondered how the meeting might go, and briefly traced a plan on what to tell the dungeon guard as to why he was visiting, then lowered his head back to sleep. He found it more difficult now that he was awake, and his friend and there encounter was stuck on his mind. His thoughts kept flicking back and forth to his friend's ears, his father's death, and the dungeons and when he finally fell back asleep, his dreams were of spirits and chains.

---

Howl was walking down the dungeon corridor. He had just told the guards that he needed barrels and wine from the stock for the funeral arrangements.

The corridors to the dungeon were dim, with the torches flickering in a non-existent breeze, and Howl felt his fur prickle. He did not want to be around these damp and musty cages, but he had to meet his friend.

He wandered slowly, getting closer to the cellars. Out of the darkness beside him, a hand reached out and grasped his shoulders, making him start. He reached for the sword at his hilt, but the hand clamped over his wrist and pulled it back.

He was staring into the orange eyes of a cat, grey and black fur disheveled. She reeked of dust and there were spider webs all over her fur. Howl was about to yell for help, when she breathed something under her breath. He tasted something strange and all that came out of his voice was a whisper. The air around the room felt cold and all noise ceased.

Trillith came into view beside her. Howl grasped at his throat whilst motioning to Trillith for understanding, but Trillith just shook his head and mouthed an apology. The grey cat spoke up in a raspy hiss.

"By binding of the seventh order of Mortyar, I commend thy flesh be burnished in flame and thy sight be opened to Aldemartis. Tin martyrn' difen ori-mortar, Ae gunde tha' vor ha decrevaten cis aurar en tha' ciet ha kraten ro Aldemartis.

A searing pain erupted behind Howl's eyes, like sticking a hot poker through his skull. He could feel something moving through his head, like some sort of aura, but he could not scratch it off. He fell weakly to one knee, still clutching at his eyes.

"What did you do to me? What's going on?" Howl's voice came out as a soft whisper, when it was meant as an urgent demand. He kept rubbing at his head, but the aura he felt behind his eyes would not fade. The spotted hyena Trillith looked at Howl in apprehension before allowing his thoughts to speak.

"We have set up a cloud of magic so we would not be overheard. I'm very sorry, but I had to play my part," he spoke in a detached, emotionless tone, a coldness that Howl had never heard before in his closest friend and which struck a lonely note in Howl's heart. It seemed he was just beginning to become aware of how mysterious his friend was. "She could smell the ash on you, Howl. You're an Aldis prophet."

Now that Howl's eyes had time to adjust, he could see a faint soot colored spot on the cat's nose and around the whiskers. The mark wasn't particularly striking like Trillith's ears.

"You may not have been aware of it, but you were chosen before birth to bear the eyes. It was predestined. I thought I could hear it in your voice, and I have confided in my friend here to help allow you and her to meet."

Howl stared in confusion at the pair. He turned to the gray cat.

"Who are you?"

The grey, bedraggled feline lowered her head, but her gaze remained fixated on Howl, the intenseness of her firey gaze was so unsettling that Howl found he was fidgeting in his cloak.

"My name is of little importance," the cat spoke up. She sounded old but also wise, and very powerful, "however, you may call me Grim." She pulled out a scroll from her long blue shash and handed it to Howl. He glanced down at it and read the inscription. It bore the royal seal. It also had his father's name on it, High King Padoch.

The orange cat eyed him intently, "after doing some strenuous research in the ancient scripts, I was able to delineate the heritage and confirm your identity. You have Fallin Clash's blood, and in your blood was the latent merit that proved your essence once the spell took effect. Take a look in that mirror." She pointed at a long, beautifully carved gold frame which held a reflective surface of pale blue. Cautiously, Howl did as she told, never keeping his eyes off her until he reached the mirror. Once in front, he gazed into the crystal blue surface.

He jumped.

"My eyes!" His exclamation came out as a whisper again, despite his struggles to speak loud. "They're black!"

His friend came up at his side, gazing in the mirror with a look that went far beyond what Howl would have called familiarity. He spoke to the mirror, "You are now one of the Mortyar, Howl, one who shares a bond with a spirit of ash. It is distinguished by the ash streaks around your eyes. I have ears of ash, pinta mortar, and Grim here has the nose of ash, senwa mortar. You now have the gift of foresight, and the binding that comes with it.

Howl didn't move but stared transfixed at his reflection, gazing into his eyes that were now coal black orbs. He could still see perfectly, maybe even better, but he didn't like the look he gave himself. Against his tan fur and pale whiskers, the black in and around his eyes looked like a sort of mask a fool would wear, or a player in a dramatic masquerade ball. Just as he was about to inquire this circumstance, the grey cat spoke.

"As I said earlier, the skill was destined. There is nothing you could have done to stop this from happening." Now she walked up to Howl so that her figure was also reflected in the mirror. She stood about a head shorter than both him and Trillith. She did not look at the mirror image, but at Howl himself as she spoke. "You were marked at birth, and you will receive the skill because it was not up to you or me to decide. As you will learn, the ashen ones are not to be deceived, and not to be ignored."

She looked up into Howl's eyes, taking a moment to consider his complexion. "I can remove the blackness in the eyes, but the soot around must stay." She reached a paw up to his face, "Metonus."

Howl gazed into the mirror and the blackness in his eyes seemed to dissolve away until they were back to the normal, brilliant, emerald green.

"Why must I carry this- curse or whatever it is?" He said it unintentionally and the old cat stiffened. She turned on the spot and began to head back toward the castle.

"I must go. I have matters to attend to in the library. If you wish to know more about your heritage, I suggest you meet me there. I would imagine you would want to attend to your father's funeral before we discuss any more of this. Talk to me when you feel you are ready to face your new ability, and then we can truly begin to hone your new skills."

And she was gone as her voice silenced beyond the cloud, which vanished in a blink.

"There is one more matter which we have to discus. Follow me." Trillith was already farther down the corridor, away from the castle. Howl moved to catch up. They travelled in silence, Howl wondering all the while what was going on and where his friend, or who he thought was his friend, was taking him. Finally they reached the end of the corridor.

"What's this you wanted me to see?" He finally spoke his mind.

Trillith motioned toward the cell on his right. Howl went to peer through the bars. It was really dark, and the cell was damp. He could smell a strong, musty scent, but there was something strange and almost familiar about it.

There was movement at the back wall. A figure stepped up into the light. He had tan fur and sunken eyes. "Who's that?" Howl inquired. He did not recognize the figure. "Why are you showing a prisoner to me?"

The prisoner had a sharp, angular jaw and a shifty expression that made him look cunning and deceptive. "I don't understand." The prisoner was a jackal, with a countenance similar to Howl's own. "I'm sorry to be the one to share the news with you, Howl. He's your brother."