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No More Opals, pt 3

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Few of Lord Muscroft's followers were present for the ritual and Ferren felt great pride that he was one of them. Also among the number was an Ashen Le'o, a young, gray-furred Lioness by the name of Rima; she'd been in the Master's service longer than Ferren, and yet he knew innately that Lord Muscroft favored him over the quiet, reserved, scheming Feyonesti woman. Lord Muscroft had saved her life from a lynch mob who were intent on stoning her to death for the ill-omen color of her fur; she had served Him ever since.

Also present was Altan, a Heudan who had apparently served the Muscroft household for decades. The owl-like bird man looked well into his sixth decade and the Werulf rarely encountered the Trekomanan scholar unless a ritual was underway or a matter of scholastic knowledge were up for discussion. Neither of the two surprised Ferren, but the final member of the small group was an exception. Lord Muscroft had also invited Garna.

The Werber had been beside herself with grief when she had seen Ferren's handiwork; the Werulf remained impassive as she broke down. The she-Bear's grief did not bother him as much as the care and tenderness with which Lord Muscroft went to her side, offering her His hand, and taking her off to the side to speak quietly with the handmaiden in mourning. Ferren was not the least bit surprised when his beloved Master brought the Werber woman around and, before long, she joined the rest of the Faithful at the gathered circle.

Once everyone was in place, Lord Muscroft spoke. "I have gathered you all together this night to witness the next step on our path. Many of you have come to know Lady Elizabeth over the years. In some ways we have grown comfortable with her presence among us. Many of us have even developed a fondness for her. I know she will be missed, but no great undertaking is possible without sacrifice."

He paused for effect and Ferren hung off his Master's every word. When Lord Muscroft continued, His voice was even more committed. "I knew this when I started down this road, and all of you have come to know this as well; Lady Elizabeth knew what would be asked of her and she too was committed to this cause. I promised each of you upon you swearing your loyalty that I would never ask more of you than I myself was willing to give. Lady Elizabeth was My sacrifice. This was her part to play in the great plan, and she did so willingly."

The soft, calm words spoken by Lord Muscroft had the same iron clad conviction as any of His other speeches yet there was also a soft, gentle sadness to them-- almost like the painful dirge of a well-crafted eulogy. There was real truth in them, as always, but what his Master had said struck a chord in Ferren and the unspoken nagging in the back of his mind was finally resolved: Lady Elizabeth must have known what was going to happen when the Wolf had entered her room.

She had stood, looking out the window, wrapped in her evening gown and her own arms. As usual there was a certain melancholy to her, but it just as easily could have been a night like any other... only it wasn't. The Human woman had glanced at him and offered a simple nod before looking back out the window. There was no surprise or alarm to her demeanor. She had said only "I am ready."

Although Lord Muscroft did not ask, Ferren felt compelled to answer. "She did not suffer, Master."

Lord Muscroft nodded to acknowledge the statement; the Werulf also noticed that Garna had cast a glance his way but Ferren ignored the Bear. He had nothing against her, but her opinion of his service meant nothing to him. Garna said nothing, however, and all eyes remained on the Master, who continued His speech. "It has taken years for us to get to this point. Some of you have been on this road with Me longer than others, but I value each and every one of you and the contributions you bring."

Knowing the significance of the ritual, Ferren remained quiet; he was pleased to see that everyone else did the same. As Lord Muscroft's "Master of Ceremonies" of a sort, Altan was the first to speak up. "I am ready to begin when you are, Corwin."

One of the few members of the Muscroft household who actually referred to the Master by His first name, Altan had always seemed to hold a certain disdain for the rest of Lord Muscroft's followers and Ferren was happy enough to offer the same back in spades. The Wolf did not, however, hold any great hate for the Owl since the scholar was a disciple and had his uses. Lord Muscroft nodded in response to the Bird. Speaking loudly, He addressed the far side of the ritual room. "Bring it in."

Despite his great strength, Ferren was not Lord Muscroft's mightiest follower; that title belonged to a massive Green Scaled Lizardman known only as "Ire". The reptile strode slowly into the room, both talons pressed against a large wooden box balanced on four wheels which he pushed across the floor. Beside Ire was a dark skinned Human-- Brooks. Of everyone present aside from their Master, Ferren felt the most solidarity with the Desert Tribesman who, at one time, had lived among a camp of nomadic people and, like the Werulf, had left to pledge himself to Lord Muscroft.

There was more to the story than that, of course; Brooks had been ostracized by his people since he was a half-breed-- his father had been from a different division of Human and so he had never been fully accepted by his people. Their tolerance of him ran out when he took a Lizardman as a lover. The story Ferren had heard was that Ire was to be burned alive and Brooks was to be sacrificed to the sun-- staked out among the sands to die of exposure. Lord Muscroft had saved them both and they returned to Maan Ellis with Him. The nomad camp was left awash with fire; in a poetic form of justice, the great Master had stricken them with the same punishment that they planned to inflict on others.

Ferren found Humans to generally be both boastful and prideful; they certainly had cause to, being the descendants of the Ancients. Brooks, however, always let his demeanor speak for him, and rarely if ever bothered singing his own praise. The dark skinned Human strode confidently beside the Lizardman; the man certainly had cause to be prideful since he was the only Human present aside from Lord Muscroft. With a flourishing bow, the man addressed their Master. "It is here, my Lord... just as You commanded."

While everyone else remained around the circle, Lord Muscroft stepped away from His place among them and descended the three stairs off the dais upon which they all stood so He could approach the large box. Ire gave a rumbling grunt, hefting the human-sized box off of its wheels, then set it back down once Boon kicked the rolling slab out from beneath it.

Ferren could feel his Master's excitement through an empathic quickening to his own heart; the Wolf didn't entirely know what was coming but he could tell it was important to Lord Muscroft and so it was important to him. With a flourish, the most glorious Human turned about to face His followers, declaring "Behold: the future of our cause!"

As if it were his cue, Brooks gestured with a hand. Ferren was not skilled in the ways of magic, yet he had a natural attunement to it and he felt his claw tingle as the nails in the crate worked themselves loose and the wood fell apart, revealing a perfect statue. It looked like a Human and the craftsmanship was flawless. What truly surprised Ferren was that the entirety of it was seemingly comprised of one entire, flawless white Opal. Brooks smiled confidently. "It took over a month for Alterationists and Sorcerers to meld enough opals together for a master craftsman to create this masterpiece for You, my Lord... but it is done."

If Ferren's intimate of his Master were any less he would have almost mistaken the statue to be shaped in Corwin Muscroft's image, yet there were enough differences that he could tell it was not a replica of his most beloved Lord. He held his own council, however, watching as Lord Muscroft reached out His hand and gently caressed the statue's cheek, speaking softly. "It is perfect." Turning to regard His assembled followers, Lord Muscroft dismissed Ire and Brook with a gesture before declaring "Tonight, Lady Elizabeth's promise to me will be complete. Tonight, she will give Me an heir!"

* * * * *

Ferren could never remember much about the ritual-- none of them had, in fact. Although it was rarely talked about, on the few occasions someone brought it up, they all came to the same conclusion: the magic involved was so powerful, and so beyond their comprehension that it has vacated their minds when they had finally come to. Aside from Lord Muscroft and Altan, everyone else had passed out as the power of the ritual had pulled out all living Mana from those present, and then exhausted every last vestige of stamina; Ferren was the second to awaken, and that was after over two days.

The following day was spent getting caught up on events. Garna had been the first to regain consciousness and, insofar as Ferren could tell, had spent almost every waking moment with Lord Muscroft... and His son. It took months to fully put together an understanding of what had transpired but, during that time, Ferren came to understand more about magic than he had previously known, and gained an appreciation for what could happen with multiple schools of magic were combined by powerful casters and an iron will as strong as that of Corwin Muscroft. He also learned about Gaunts and Familiars.

Any practitioner of true Magic could call upon a Familiar Spirit, a vestigial portion of their own prime essence that could not exist without them. A Familiar was a 'hidden part' of every thinking creature that possessed any amount of Mana that could be called forth and given form. Most Familiars remained ephemeral, subsisting on the Mana pool of the caster who summoned them and had little more substance than a ball of cotton. Other magic users elected to find a vessel that could give their Familiar physical forms; animals were often the preferred method to that end but, on rare occasions, truly powerful users of magic could summon Gaunts.

Gaunts, like Familiars, were made of pure Mana given shape. Unlike Familiars, Gaunts had a physical form that did not require an animal 'host'. Gaunts, Ferren learned, could be made out of almost anything, presuming a magic user were powerful enough and had a great enough store of Mana or, in Lord Muscroft's case, Mana contained within his followers, and enough knowledge of Usury, Sanguimancy, and Necromancy to turn the life force taken from Lady Elizabeth and using it to give life to a statue of pure Opal-- a Gaunt; his familiar; his son. Joseph Muscroft had been created rather than born.

Ferren met Lord Muscroft's 'son' during the Gaunt's second day of 'life'. The young man, appearing to be somewhere around seventeen or eighteen years of age was, in fact, alive for less days than the Wolf had fingers on one paw. Despite that, Joseph was well spoken, intelligent, and genteel-- very nearly as much as his father. Lord Muscroft seemed to dote on His son, giving the creation more attention than the Werulf had ever received. Ferren hated the 'thing' immediately.

Garna, who had spent enough in service to Lady Elizabeth that learned all she needed to know in order to be a nursemaid, a caretaker, and, in general, a supervisor for Joseph. That lofty position also meant that she had a large portion of Lord Muscroft's attention. Over the next few days Ferren got far less time with his Master than he'd ever had since they'd left the Werulf's tribe; he felt his Master's absence astutely. Even once Garna was set up and a new normal was established, Ferren relaized that he would have to share Lord Muscroft's attention and he disliked the Familiar even more.

Eventually the time came when Ferren was called to attend both Lord Muscroft and His Familiar. The Werulf never kept secrets from his Master and, while he remained cordial, polite, and everything a Wer in waiting should be, Ferren made no attempt whatsoever to offer any nicety to the being that had usurped him as his Master's favorite. It did not take long for Lord Muscroft to notice and, shortly thereafter, Joseph and Garna were sent away to do some random errand, leaving Ferren alone in His presence. The question was casual and to the point. "What troubles you, Ferren?"

As always, the Werulf was honest and forthcoming. "I do not like your Familiar, Master."

Lord Muscroft's only overt response aside from a follow up question was the causal raising of one of His eyebrows. "Oh? You have barely spent any time with him, My friend. How could you judge him so quickly?"

Ferren, given the opportunity, willingly and eagerly spoke his mind. "He keeps You from me, my Lord."

Chuckling warmly, Lord Muscroft turned to face Ferren and rested one of His hands on the Werulf's shoulder; Ferren immediately felt a comforting tingle flow through him-- everything was right again. "Tell me, Ferren... in all the years that you have known Me, when have you known anyone or anything that could keep Me from anything?"

The answer was all too simple. "Never, Master."

Lord Muscroft's hand trailed through the fur of Ferren's shoulder then his neck before lovingly cradling the Werulf's cheek, gently rubbing the fur there. Ferren closed his eyes, leaning his head into the touch; he was in his Master's favor once again, and it was glorious. Lord Muscroft's voice spoke up, nearer to him as the Wolf heard his Master lean closer. "Do you trust me, my friend?"

"Always in all ways."

The gentle slap on Ferren's cheek was nowhere near painful but it was enough to get Lord Muscroft's point across. "Then do not presume that Joseph is keeping Me from you. Do you understand?"

Ferren was almost certain that his heart stopped; a cold chill ran through his body when he realized that his Master was displeased with him. The Werulf knew immediately how he had erred. Lowering his head, Ferren tucked his ears and tail. "I wish only to be in Your presence, Master. I am sorry... I did not mean to say that You--"

Words failed him as Lord Muscroft's arms encircled the Wolf. Pulling Ferren close to Him, the Human spoke softly, His perfect, warm voice tickling the Werulf's ear fur with each word. "You are more precious to Me than you could possibly know, Ferren. I have always said that we all have a part to play in My grand plan. Yours has been and will continue to be at My side. Nothing changes that."

Ferren knew innately that his Master meant those words and the icy chill left him immediately, thawed by Lord Muscroft's affection. Letting out a content sigh, the Werulf gently matched his Master's hug, wishing fondly that their time would last forever. Unfortunately, the Human did eventually step away. "You have pledged yourself to Me, Ferren. I accepted your service, and I did not accept it lightly. You are Bound to Me, and I to you. What we have will not be lessened by Joseph-- it shall be strengthened. This is My Prophecy."

In so many words, Ferren no longer hated his Master's Familiar. Everything was as it should be, and the Werulf looked forward fondly to the prophecy's fulfillment. Knowing that all would be made right in time, Ferren would persevere through anything. His devotion would soon be tested; the following night, Muscroft Manner, known as Estate 7, would come under attack, and the Werulf would face his greatest loss yet.