The War for Eventyr

23 | A Choice

A crash of thunder shook the sky. Piercing bolts of light streaked through the darkening horizon. Thankfully, the roaring wind held off until Colborn dragged himself onto the shore. His legs ached from the long swim, but practicing with Runa had helped with his strength. He only wished that she could come with him––to help him face the truth.

Icy droplets of rain tickled his back as he trudged onward towards home. The word felt weird on his tongue, even though he'd only left it all behind less than a whole moon ago. So many things had changed for him in so little time. He feared the changes that awaited him back in Muspell. The vision of a blood-stained Jakob still tainted his mind. He hoped he wasn't too late.

Dark clouds blocked out any of the silvery light from the stars. The ground was shadowed and unknown beneath his paws. Still, he steered his muzzle in the right direction, forever ingrained in his heart as the place where he came from. It was the place where he could rest his muzzle after a long and painful day, or a soul-crushing battle filled with blood. There was always light after the storm.

It wasn't a place; it was his brother.

He stopped when he smelled the all too familiar scent of fear. It circled his home like a constant ring of smoke, thick and bitter. It clung to everything within. Taking a deep breath, Colborn stepped past an invisible barrier. There was no going back.

No foxes lingered on the outskirts of Muspell. He passed by empty dens, finding only the faint smell of Flameborn. Twilight was when their skulk prowled the land, the greatest time to hunt, and if no one was around, it meant only one thing. The Jarl had gathered them.

Taking off in a run, memories of Jakob flashed in his mind like lightning in the clouds. Surely, none of that dream had been true. His brother was safe and sound, still the innocent fox he knew. He refused to believe anything else.

Colborn gasped when he saw the darkened silhouettes of tods in a ring, the audience for something vile and bloody to occur. The Jarl stood above them on the boulder; he cast a disapproving gaze downward. Colborn crouched lower into the weeds, his fur brushing past the cold and wet blades.

He strained his ears to hear over the thrum of the rain. The trickle was quickly growing into a downpour. Over the roar of thunder, the Jarl opened his muzzle to speak.

"You will do it, Jakob." The hoarse voice emerged with a snarl. Colborn pushed his way into the crowd, hoping no one would recognize him with the amount of mud caked on his muzzle. He squeezed out the front, catching sight of his brother's slick red fur. Jakob's ears were flattened against his head, and if there weren't so much water dripping from his fur, Colborn would see the tears rolling down his face.

"No." Jakob forced a whisper out. A small, weak vixen was crumpled in front of his paws. Colborn's stomach churned as he realized just what this meeting was.

Apart from being broken down emotionally by his father's wicked deeds, the first of Colborn's official trials was painfully similar. To put an injured fox "out of their misery." Even though he knew the fox he had to kill was only mutilated because of the Jarl and one of his bouts of rage. Maybe this one had refused to bear more of his kits––or one that had the courage to speak out against his violent ways.

Their father jumped down from the stone, teeth glinting in the tiny sliver of light the moon provided. "You will do it."

Jakob cowered, his hackles raised in fear. "I won't do it. I won't." His jaws trembled just as much as his voice. Then he stood taller, visibly swallowing his trepidation. He closed his eyes and held his head high. "You'll have to kill me first."

Colborn's muscles tensed, waiting to jump into action as Jarl's snarl grew louder. But then he stopped, forcing out a gruff laugh. "Death would be too kind of a reward, Jakob. I will break you, even if it takes shattering every bone in your body." With a single lunge, he leaped onto the trembling vixen and snapped her neck. Crimson-colored rain now dribbled from his chin.