Chapter one: The burning
It is a time of peace, every race coexisting happily. But as in all good stories, there must be action, so I'm sorry to say, but there is a certain group of people who desire to put the world asunder. This secret society, known only to the members it consists of, has been plotting to assassinate the kings of the continents and pin the blame on the others, thus creating a world war.
Good stories also need a hero. Aha, here he comes now. He has a slow gait as he walks, his paw on his hilt, ready to draw whenever he senses danger. The cape he wears flows like the ocean, and a pearl clasp on the front keeps it secure. A gash is readily apparent across his right eye, giving him a rough, unapproachable look. Dulled by many years of use, the plate armor he wears has many dings and dents in it. Chinking loudly as he walks down the sidewalk, he enters his favorite tavern to drown his troubles.
The grey furred wolf sits down at the bar and orders a cool one, gulping it down quickly and turning to the crowd. A much smaller and well-fed mouse sits down next to him, and orders the same drink, as if the tavern had any other. They sigh in unison and the wolf turns to the mouse, speaking in a deep, gravelly voice, "Hey Marty, I see you're back from the front. You got any news for me?"
Turning to his friend, the mouse speaks in a less manly, but still manly voice "Aye, its good ta see ya too, Conniption. And about that news, I don' have much ta report, sorry." The mouse slams his mug on the bar and yells, "Oi, barkeep! Can I get another pint?"
Conniption sighs to himself and orders another drink, trying hard to get into a good deep stupor. "Y'know, it's been almost a year since she died, almost a year since the war ended, but I miss her, Marty, I miss her. There's never going to be another one like her." He gulps down the new mug of ale and sighs heavily.
Watching the people pass through the doorway, the two of them give a moment of silence for Conniption's wife. Marty then pipes up, "C'mon, ol' man. She cant've been the only fish in the sea for ya. Why don' we do somethin' fun tonight?"
"No, not tonight Morty. I think I'll just go home." He replies, his mind clouding with the alcohol. Just then, a fox walks into the bar, her fur like a blood red sun. She steps across the bar floor, not gathering much attention except for the eye of one grey wolf. Dressed in an old shirt and tattered pants, her appearance suggests one of humble upbringing. Amber hair flows smoothly down her back, and as Conniption peers into her eyes, he notices they have no pupils, which contrasts to the rest of her.
As she speaks, her voice is like a chorus of angels, the words rolling ever so sweetly off her tongue, "May I please have a water? Just water, nothing alcoholic."
His gaze is fixed on her beautiful countenance and Morty smiles and says to himself, "No one else like her, eh?" He laughs to himself and walks out of the bar, his long tail swishing as his chubby feet plod across the floor.
"Excuse me ma'am, would you mind telling me your name?" Conniption says, asking the vixen in front of him.
She turns to the rough looking wolf and replies, "If you must know, it's Petfawx. My friends call me Fawx, but you're not my friend, so don't, got it?" Turning back to her drink, she gives him the cold shoulder and takes another sip. He sighs and backs off, sitting down on the stool. Fawx takes the last sip and pays the barkeep, standing up to walk out the door, giving Conniption an icy stare then walking away. He watches her leave, her bushy tail swinging behind her.
He lays a gold piece down and walks out the door, heading for home. The streets are filled with people during the middle of the day. The buildings line the pavement and each one offers a different thing. Conniption's mind floods with images of the vixen he just met. Although cold to him, he couldn't stop thinking about her; her amber hair and voided eyes drawing him to her. He pushes open the door to his house, unlocked like every time and enters into a deserted room. No smells from the kitchen, no wife coming to greet him, he is alone in his sorrow.
He removes his plate armor and lays it in a steel chest in the corner, placing the lock on it and standing back up. His shirt and pants match his armor, black as night. Grabbing his flint and tinder, he kneels in front of the fire place and begins a blaze inside. He turns around and sits down in his overlarge armchair, slowly falling asleep, his dreams a mix of his wife and Petfawx, the line between the two being blurred.
Hours later, Morty shakes Conniption awake "Oi, buddy o' mine! I've got terrible news! The king's been assassinated!" Conniption's eyes open wide and he leaps to his feet, knocking Morty off balance. Steadying himself, he waits for something to happen. As if in answer to his thoughts, a fireball blows open the door and Petfawx steps daintily through.
"Come with me" she yells, the town ablaze behind her. Glancing at each other then at Pet, Morty and Conniption follow her out the door. Running down the street, keeping pace with each other, Pet and Conniption leave Morty behind, his legs unable to keep up with them. The two finally come to a rest, and they turn back, watching the town rapidly burn down, destroying houses and taking many innocent lives.
Both of them pant heavily for a bit and Pet is the first to get her breath back, "Conniption was it? I need you to cooperate with me until we're fully out of danger. I'm sorry for being cold to you earlier, but you have to trust me now." Petfawx takes a deep sigh and smiles at Conniption who takes it as an apology. Spreading like chicken pox at a sick four-year-old's birthday party, the fire endangers the unlikely couple and they continue to run, clearing the stream and ensuring their safety.
Exhausted from the run, the two finally realize that darkness has set and they begin to set up camp. Conniption heads off into the surrounding forest to search for firewood and in the back of his head he can't help but think if Morty is alright. He hears a rustle from the bushes beside him and reaches for his sword, which he left in the chest back in town. Swearing under his breath, he puts his arms up, ready to fight for his life. Petfawx steps into the clearing where he is and he charges at her, mistaking her for a wild animal.
Suddenly, he stops in mid-charge and falls flat on the ground, making an audible thud as he hits. The tree roots slither away from his feet and he gets back up, brushing himself off, "That was uncalled for, madam."
Giggling lightly, Petfawx's expression changes instantly to one of disgust, "You sir, attacked me first. I merely let nature take its course, making a sort of trip-snare for your buffoon-like actions. Now, let's get back to camp and make something...edible."
Conniption follows her back to the clearing, still staring at her wagging tail with a predator like hunger. Arriving at camp, Petfawx sets down what she's gathered, a pile of mostly herbs and a few inedible looking plants, "Well, that should be enough for me, what're you having?" She grins at Conniption, who realizes he has to go out again and find something for himself...
He walks back into the forest, grumbling angrily, "Where does she get off treating me like shit? I'd like to give her a piece of my mind, course, she'd probably use that against me too." Conniption kicks a few twigs out of his way, his stomach grumbling loudly. Food sneaks into his mind and he starts his search for something to eat. Another sound comes from the bushes and he groans audibly, "This better not be you again."
A rabbit comes hopping out of the brush and Conniption licks his lips, "Dinner." He reaches for his knife, kept in the seat pocket of his pants and leaps at the animal, thrusting the knife into its belly. Pleased with himself, he makes his way back to camp only to discover Petfawx passed out on the forest floor. He drops the rabbit and rushes over to her limp body, immediately checking her pulse, "It's normal." He says to himself, calming down a bit.
Turning to the plants she picked, Conniption takes a sniff of the bunch and snorts out the pollen. He sighs heavily and chuckles to himself. "She didn't know..." The wolf takes the vixen in his strong arms and sets her upright against a stump. As darkness finally sets in, she slowly awakens to a roaring fire and the wolf staring intently at it, lost deep in thought. Petfawx sneaks behind him and whispers in his ear, "So, how long was I out?"
At the sound of her voice, he bounds out of his seat, nearly landing in the fire. Petfawx barrels over with laughter, clutching her sides. "Oooh, that was priceless Conn. But really, how long was I out?" she wipes a tear from her eye and sits up. Conniption steadies himself and chuckles a bit.
"Oh, a good hour or two. You had a large whiff of stranglethorn and it knocked you out cold. I thought you knew what you were doing, so I didn't offer any help. Just be glad I was here at all." Conniption replies, his mouth curling into a sort of smile. He helps Petfawx onto her feet and offers her some rabbit which she readily accepts. Both of them sit on the log Conniption brought into the clearing and nibble quietly on their food.
Conniption turns to Pet and says, "I've got to ask. Exactly why did you save me?" Pet avoids his gaze and continues to stare at the fire.
"You're an incredible person, important to both sides of the new war. We thought it'd be best to keep you out of the limelight by sending you to battle a year ago. Your friend Marty is a knight of the first degree, but he's been acting as your guardian for almost a year since the war. And me? I'm Petfawx, Grand Sorceress. My job is to protect you from...them." She turns to look at Conniption, her voided eyes drilling into him.
He sighs heavily and takes another bite of rabbit, "Let me get this straight. Marty isn't a fat bum?" Petfawx replies, "Oh, he's still a fat bum" they both chuckle, "But yes, that's all true. And you...you are the key to ending what has only just begun."