Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 35
35
...go."
Kadai sucked in air between his clenched teeth, this wretched feeling inside caught somewhere between outright anger and irrepressible sorrow. He couldn't tell whether he wanted to embrace his son or punch him in the face. He looked up at the mountain, seen as a god by the Wolves, the almighty Cora, with the sun hovering just above its peak, then down at the massive posts that marked the border of his village. Finally, he gazed at the Wolves themselves, singleminded in their stance against him, his family, and everyone who dared to risk their lives for something they could never understand, something even he could only grasp at.
The mountain, the village, the Wolves. A wall of stone, a wall of wood, and a wall of meat. A wall that was dead, a wall that used to be alive, and a wall that could kill. Walls, walls, walls... How many more would his son have to climb before he finally found what he was looking for?
Maybe those were the last three. Please, let those be the last three...
"As Chieftain of this tribe, I will keep them safe," Kadai said and stepped back, reluctantly letting go of his son. Nilia followed suit, and suddenly Ander was standing on his own, swaying slightly, his whole body a mess of smeared blood, both fresh and dry. His fur was plastered to his skin in some places, and in others they stood out in hard spiky clumps.
The Wolves slowly opened a path for him to the North gate, and for some reason it made Kadai think of an egg cracking open. The bonfire suddenly collapsed in on itself with a roaring crash and Kadai felt a brief flash of heat wash over his back. Just like the last traces of the night, the fire was dying.
Ander stood still, and Kadai began to wonder if he would be able to move at all, but then he took a single, trembling step forward, gazing fixedly at the two massive slabs of wood that made up the gate, decorated with skulls and threaded feathers.
Kadai stood close enough to make a grab for him in case he started to fall, but Ander just kept putting one foot in front of the other, determined to make it to a life of happiness or die trying. As he made it past the first line of Wolves, Kadai felt a surge of pride unlike any he has felt before.
That is my son, he thought, watching Ander's torturously slow progress. He should be dead right now, but he just kept going and going. It was a feat of inner strength that would never be matched by any Wolf ever again, but even that was not his true power.
Ander has the uncanny ability to touch the hearts of those around him, just by being himself, and bring out the best in us, even in the darkest of places.
Kadai glanced over at Nilia, the strongest she-wolf of the tribe, famous for her skin of stone. She stood so rigidly, her face completely devoid of emotion, but Kadai could tell she was rooting for Ander in her mind, cheering him on, rejoicing for every step he took.
Danado. He was just a simple hunter, so quiet, always staying out of trouble. He'd avoid conflict to such an extent that he was considered a coward and weakling by most. And yet, while Kadai was fighting his way through the crowd, he saw this 'weakling' step up. He protected Ander from a blood-crazed Wolf with an axe, something he never would have done under normal circumstances.
And even his sister, Lana. Now there's a Wolf Kadai never would have expected to throw a punch Wardo's way, but she did so without hesitation. She did it to defend her brother, yes, but maybe he wasn't the only one she was defending.
Renna, the meekest child of the tribe, always scurrying about like a little mouse, often seen but scarcely heard. She's the one that made the strings of feathers that now adorn the gates Ander was so grimly pursuing. Hunters would occasionally bring in some pheasants and pluck them in the cool shade of the Cora statue, and the feathers would blow away and accumulate against the walls in little drifts of white, red and brown, but Renna refused to use these for her art projects because she claimed them to be 'dead'. She went out into the woods instead, patiently collecting feathers one by one, because those were the feathers that were shed naturally, their owners still alive and well in the trees somewhere, building their nests, caring for their eggs, living out their lives. For such a child to suddenly call her own mother a 'cold-hearted bitch' was something Kadai never would have expected, and that didn't even compare to the way she attacked Wardo, sinking her teeth into his leg like a wild animal. What was going through her mind in that moment, he wondered? What was powerful enough to overturn her very nature?
And then there was Mellah. After Vallah died, she wouldn't leave their tent for weeks. Sorrin had to bring her food and water from outside, and every time someone asked about her, he would just shake his head and walk away. She's been grieving for her daughter these past eight years, never speaking more than two words to anyone, but tonight, after seeing how Aisa was treating Renna, she just exploded. There was no other word for it. Maybe it was because Renna was about the same age as Vallah when she died, but Kadai didn't think that was all there was to it. After eight years of grief and sorrow and anger, something came along and unlocked all that rage that was festering inside of her, setting it free, and that something was his son, Ander.
Her mate, Sorrin. Such a hard Wolf, such an isolated Wolf. Kadai barely knew anything about him, but he did know that Sorrin would never step in front of a spear like that. Maybe he felt he had a debt to repay for finally finding out the truth about his daughter.
Hezzi. Just thinking about him made Kadai's stomach turn inside out. He was such a horrible father to that boy. All the scoldings, all the beatings, and all he ever wanted to do was make his father proud. The night he burst in out of the rain to tell them that Banno was dead, why... he nearly killed him. He already knew what it felt like to lose a child. It's as if a giant hand with razor claws forced its way down your throat and pulled out everything it could wrap its bony fingers around; heart and lungs and intestines and everything, just ripped it all out to leave this massive empty bloody hole inside. He left such a hole underneath a beech tree twenty-three years ago, and Hezzi's words opened up a whole new one. First his tiny little daughter, died in secret, taken from him before she could even earn a name, and then his eldest son, Banno. Kadai knew there was darkness inside those black eyes, but Banno was still his son, his child, and no matter what he may have done in life, his passing filled him with terrible sorrow. Maybe that's why he lashed out. One hole was bad enough, but two? He could barely stand it. If Shekka hadn't stopped him back then, it would have been three, and that would surely have been the end of everything right there. No one can live like that. Those holes left by the loss of the ones we love can kill as surely as an arrow to the heart. And now Hezzi has one, too.
But Ander fixed it somehow. Hezzi was just about ready to march on the Foxes all by himself before he showed up. He said he wanted answers, but Kadai knew that was just a farce. The boy had darkness in his eyes, just like Banno, and all he really wanted to do was bite and claw and kill and destroy. He wanted to fight and fight and fight until all the pain went away.
But then Ander came and took all that pain upon himself. Hezzi was so angry that Kadai believed the pup to be capable of murder just a few hours ago, but instead he jumped in to protect the only brother he had left. He laid his life on the line, showing more courage than any Wolf of this tribe, all because Ander had touched him with that special power, a gift he probably didn't even know he possessed. Kadai hoped with all his heart that Hezzi would wake up soon so that he could tell him how proud he was to be his father.
Ander was about halfway through now, and the Wolves had started to spit. Ander didn't seem to mind. He just kept pace, walking and walking his endless walk, one arm dangling uselessly, dripping blood, the other held grimly against his side, but every time one of those white globs splattered against his son's fur, it filled Kadai with murderous rage. He marked each face, branding their names into his memory so he could punish them all later. He would -
No... Ander wouldn't want that. He said so himself. He doesn't want to be responsible for any more bloodshed.
He's changed me, too... Kadai thought, awestruck by the idea.
The wood groaned as the gates slowly swung open, revealing the path that would eventually lead Ander back to a family far better than what Kadai ever could have provided. It saddened him to think that way, but he was happy at the same time. This was the worst hour of his son's life, but it was almost over. If he could just make it out... If he could just keep going...
Ander made it past the last line of Wolves, the final layer of the first wall, the shell of the egg. In some ways, making it through the Wolves, leaving them all behind, breaking free of their hatred and anger, it was as if he was being born again.
"Keep going, Ander," Kadai whispered, unable to stop himself. "Just keep going... You can do it..."
Ander's feet crossed the curved line scraped by the gates in the dirt, and suddenly he was outside the walls. He was outside.
Only one more wall remained. The greatest one of them all. The Cora. The ProtectorMountain, looming in the distance, so very far away.
Come on, Ander. You can do it. Just keep going. Just keep -
That's when Kadai noticed the trail of blood leading from the village center all the way to the gate. Random drops of red in some places, great big heaping puddles in others. There's no way he'll be able to make it all the way back to Grovenglen, not in a hundred lifetimes. He'd never -
Ander stopped, as if he could hear his father's thoughts. He swayed where he stood, then fell.
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