Chapter 1: The Dark Wolf

I have done many things in my life, both wonderful things ... and terrible things. But no matter what kind of monster people see me as, no matter how I am judged, everything I have done, I have done so for the betterment of both the Lurranna family and for the greater universe. I would say that I have no regrets, but that is not entirely true. Do I regret the violence, the killings, and the bloodshed? Truth be told, no, not really. It’s not that I don’t recognize the monstrosity of those deeds, it’s just that every action I have taken, I did so for the people I loved and with full knowledge of the evil that I would take into my heart. However, the one thing I do regret is the conclusion with you, Leon, my son. I never got to tell you everything that I meant to tell to.

Zanderius Alastar felt uneasy. He knew that these meetings were necessary. In fact, there had been many such meetings since the very beginnings of the great war. But that in no way lessened the strain on his heart.

Will he be here? Will he come?

That question ever haunted him as he waited on the concealed platform in the dead of night. As of yet, his old rival had neglected to appear at these negotiations personally, but that did not denote the impossibility of such an occurrence. As usual, Zand was unsure of his feelings on the subject; if a part of him would be glad to see his former friend, or despairing. Either way, Zand doubted very much that he would enjoy these talks, though trivial in nature they tended to be.

“Would you quiet your bleating thoughts for a moment please?” crooned the irritated voice of the canine at Zand’s side. “I’ve felt sociopaths with more peaceful minds than you.”

“You know you don’t have to defrock my psyche,” replied Zand tersely. “You could just sit there with your own mind. It would do wonders for both our mental states.”

“You know I can’t help it,” replied Green-Eyes with a huff. “Besides, it’s not so much that I am prying into your thoughts. More like you are projecting them. I swear, you get like this every time we come here.”

“Can you blame me? I keep wondering if this is it. If this will be the last of the talks before he declares war ... if this will be the last time that I look down on the city in peace.”

At that, Green-Eyes, the beautiful white-haired spirit wolf, looked down on the city of Tarrus below. The disk-like platform made of rainbow light suspended them high above the planet of Tarrus in the upper atmosphere where most commercial vessels did not venture, save those spacecrafts that journeyed to and from the planet. The platform made from the vibrating colors of the rainbow was a special meeting site that had been set aside to be hidden from mortal eyes. As Zand glanced down, he wondered if others before him felt a sense of power at floating above the small mortals that toiled down below. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of anxiety, a foreboding emotion within his heart at the knowledge that the decisions he made here and now would change the lives of all the people down below ... and they didn’t even know it. There were times that Zand wished he had never taken on the mantle of the Sacred Vessel of Purity, but there were also times that he reasoned that someone had to do it. Right now, he bore more empathy with the former longing.

“I want to be strong, but it’s moments like these that I finally feel the weight of my age upon me. A forlorn feeling of doom that I cannot face ... that I’m not ready to face.”

“Then don’t face it,” said Green-Eyes simply. Zand curiously faced the old, wizened being whose power and knowledge went beyond all human understanding. “At least, don’t face it alone. You forget that I’m here with you, and so long as you remain true to your mission, I will never abandon you.”

Zand smiled. “You know, for all your brazen, you really are a faithful companion ... at times.”

“I have my moments,” said Green-Eyes as her ears perked at the compliment.

“And is this one of them?” asked a new voice.

Zand had noticed him coming earlier, so he wasn’t surprised when their guest appeared, but even so, it was disconcerting to stand in the presence of such ancient malice. The person in question was not the Sacred Vessel of Corruption whom Zand had dreaded to meet, but his emissary, an ancient spirit wolf known as Shadow-Claw ... the darkened mirror of Green-Eyes. Like Green-Eyes, Shadow-Claw appeared as a wolf, but that was little more than a guise. With his black fur rippling and swaying with spiritual power, his glowing red eyes, and pure white fangs, the creature made for quite the ghostly figure. Dozens of black tendrils of a smoke-like substance trailed from the tips of the creature’s fur, almost like a smoldering volcano. Shadow-Claw sat on his haunches with his forepaws curled casually in front of him, but his fangs snarled dangerously at Zand as if to indicate the intent to attack at any given moment. In Zand’s younger days, he might have been frightened at the appearance of such a monster, but as such, he regarded his adversary with only wary irritation.

“Idly conversing with mortals, are we?” said the black wolf. Like Green-Eyes, when the spirit wolf spoke, his mouth did not move as he communicated via telepathy. “You’ve lowered your standards, Green-Eyes.”

“Do not speak to me of standards, Shadow-Claw,” said Green-Eyes with a bit of a growl. “I am not as patient as Zand is, so please don’t tax me.”

Shadow-Claw responded only with a slight growl and snap of his jaws, but otherwise remained silent.

And to think they used to be a couple, thought Zand to himself, but this time being careful to guard his thoughts. Ever since Shadow-Claw arrived, Zand kept his mental barriers up lest his enemy glean dangerous secrets.

“I take it your master is not here?” inquired Zand.

Shadow-Claw remained silent, motionless.

“As intransigent as ever, I see. Very well then, what new catastrophe have you brewed for me this time?” Zand said it like a joke, but his meaning was quite literal.

“There is an imbalance within the realms,” said Shadow-Claw coldly. “Too much light has been granted. The young ones must be subjected to more darkness if the balance is to be maintained.”

“Young ones,” asked Zand innocently. “To whom could you be referring to, Shadow-Claw?”

A dark smile crossed the canine’s sinister face. “Don’t play coy with me, Light-Wielder. We know full well that you have all Three Children of Destiny within your care. Such a breach of protocol is unheard of. It must be corrected.”

“It has not yet been confirmed whether these three are indeed the Children of Destiny,” Zanderius said with slight exaggeration. There were still tests the Light Realm wished to conduct to confirm the prophecies, but Zand knew long ago the nature of those three children.

“If it is unclear, then perhaps they require more tests to confirm their worth,” said the malevolent emissary of darkness.

“They are not ready. They have only just survived one ordeal. Is that not enough suffering? For goodness’ sake, they’re only children! Let them be for just a little while longer!” pleaded Zand desperately.

Shadow-Claw smiled without mirth. “You know full well that I am only a messenger. That I can only profess what my counterparts have already decided. This must be.”

Zand knew that Shadow-Claw was baiting him, but he couldn’t help his encroaching anger. “Law or no law, I will stop you. Those children are too young to be placed under his influence.”

“He said you would say that. He also said to accept the fact that ‘there are simply some things that are out of your hands no matter how powerful those hands become. We must learn to accept what we cannot change’,” Shadow-Claw said the last words with Zand’s voice.

Zand became stricken mute for a moment. Those words! I remember ... I see. Some sins run deeper than others, and what happened to you was my greatest sin, Zorron.

Shadow-Claw turned to leave. “We’ll be visiting soon. If it is your desire to stop us, then you’d best warn Saria before it’s too late. But of course, you must do so without revealing yourself. After all, you are still a fugitive in the mortals’ eyes, despite all your efforts to save them.”

Zand managed to smile congenially, albeit with some strain. “You enjoy being audacious, don’t you? Bit of advice. Try toning that down when treating with your master. In case you haven’t noticed, he doesn’t take well to that sort of thing.”

Shadow-Claw frowned in annoyance before disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

As I gathered, not the best of relationships between dog and master. Well, he was never the most amiable of characters, even when we were friends.

Green-Eyes faced Zand with uncertainty. “What are we going to do?”

Zand’s moment of vulnerability had passed. Now he was what he needed to be, what the universe needed him to be. “I need you to go back to the Realm of Light and ask for an intervention. Anything to forestall whatever it is that the other side has in store for the children. Meanwhile, I will try and get back in touch with Saria.”

Green-Eyes cocked her head to the side cynically. “You know that’s dangerous for more than one reason. She still hasn’t forgiven you for leaving. She never bought into any of the old stories of the Realms of Light and Shadow. For most Elementals, it is nothing more than religious superstition of the Monks. How will you convince her?”

“That is my ordeal,” replied Zand calmly, but inwardly, he felt anything but calm.

The alarm went off once again, and once again, Ryan Uruks did a fairly decent job of ignoring it as he continued a persistent barrage of snoring without cease.

Of course, Leon Lurranna, being trained at a very young age in the art of discipline, had already risen well before the alarm expired and had all but finished his morning exercises. The first lesson that Leon had learned since he was small was ‘be assiduous.’ Discipline and decorum were essential in everyday life, even during the times when no one was watching. A meticulous mindset was necessary for overcoming all possible obstacles, no matter how arduous. That was how his father had raised him. Despite his misgivings on his family’s legacy, Leon found a certain bit of merit in the lessons he learned under Lurranna tutelage, and thus he retained them out of necessity. There was one particular lesson that Leon would never forget, and that was to assume the air of power in every engagement, no matter how trivial. Appearance was everything to the Lurrannas. Appearance was everything to Leon. It had to be in order for him to survive so long. When one portrays an air of weakness, his enemies will sense the weakness and swarm like a pack of wolves smelling fresh meat. A cruel philosophy for life perhaps, but one which did help with a little thing called survival. And if Leon Lurranna was anything, he was a survivor.

However, life did occasionally sprout out a few pranks every now and then. Take for instance Leon’s current predicament with his newfound roommate. As Leon looked through the threshold of Ryan’s room, he observed with awe the unsightly state of the living quarters. The once elegant white carpet had been stained with multiple spills from drinks of every color and variety. Soda, he believed Ryan had called the beverages. Clothes and accessories lay sprawled across the floors in a great labyrinth of chaos. Some half-eaten take-out boxes were among the contents. As if to make the situation even more ridiculous, there were multiple scorch marks about the room, on the walls and the ceilings; no doubt the results of Ryan’s curious tendency to experiment with his fire abilities. He was such a child. It was like Elemency was a toy for him. As for the work desk that Leon had painstakingly gone to the trouble of bringing in for Ryan, a massive heap of confusion with data disks and old homework files lay sprawled over the holocomputer console. It was a wonder how Ryan found the keyboards to his computer and got any schoolwork done at all.