Silver Seren/War of Loss

War of Loss by ~silver-seren

Chapter 4 War of Loss By Silver Seren

Cold washed across Silver’s cheek and he shivered uncontrollably from it. The cold moved away and he felt a hand close over his own. Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing at the sharp pain in his chest, and found himself looking up at Slyan Whitefang, the Pack’s Alpha Female.

She had a compress in her hand that was covered in blood. My blood? A smile came over her face when she saw that he had awakened, “Its been a few hours. I was wondering how long it would take you to wake. Your wounds weren’t too bad, but you lost some blood and they needed to be bandaged..”

She pointed at his chest and he saw that there was a wrapping around the place where Darius’s knife had entered. This didn’t stop the pain from the wound, however, which showed when he tried to sit up and a wave of agony came over him.

Concern showing clearly on her face, Slyan pulled a leaf from her pocket and raised it to his lips, “Eat this. It will dull the pain for a time.”

Biting down, Silver was assailed by a horrifying taste, but he forced himself to swallow. Almost immediately the pain faded to a faraway ache, allowing him to breathe easier. He sat up slowly and looked around the room in surprise, “This is…Strye’s?”

Slyan nodded and glanced around the room as well, “Yes, his room. Our room, I suppose I should be saying, “She added with a chuckle.

Silver’s eyes lingered on the bookcases of lycan history and strayed pointedly towards the sword hanging on a rack, Strye’s sword.

Nothing more came from Slyan for a moment until she sighed, “When you feel up to it, come on down and see us,” she said, ruffling the top of his hair, “Strye would like to have a talk with you later. See you then.”

She rose from the side of the bed and headed for the door. Her hand paused while she was turning the doorknob and looked back at him, “Don’t worry. He’s not mad at you and you aren’t in trouble. He just wants to talk, that’s all.” With a warm smile, she left.

Silver felt relieved at her words, for he had been worrying about what would happen to him. This took the fear away. Swinging his legs off the bed, he gingerly got to his feet. The leaf still seemed to be working because he couldn’t feel any pain from his wounds. They would probably be healed enough by the time it wore off.

His gaze once more traveled to the bookshelves and he scanned the rows of books. Some dated back centuries and certainly looked like it, while others were more recent. The very last book at the end of the row caught his eye and he recognized it immediately.

All Alphas kept journals about Pack proceedings. In fact, many of the books were written by old Alphas as well on mystical subjects such as healing and summoning, some of the books dating back to when written language was first created.

Strye had shown him his book before, but he allowed no one to read it, stating that only Alphas could look within the pages. Sorely tempted he was, but Silver turned and headed for the door. He respected Strye far too much, and was trusted by him as well, to look upon something forbidden.

Opening the door of the room, he looked down the hallway, a place quite familiar to him. His own room, actually, was only three doors down. Voices could be heard from a few of the rooms, some of them hushed and others not. At the end of the hall was and elevator and a door to the stairs. The elevator had just been recently installed. Because of that, it wasn’t operational yet and bits of wire lay scattered across the ground.

Pushing open the stairwell door, he began his descent to the ground floor. A lycan was heading up and gave Silver a nod of recognition and continued on without speaking. Some concern came into his mind that Darius had possibly been spreading information about the incident around. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided that Darius probably hadn’t said anything or Strye hadn’t let him because he believed that a bigger reaction would show from his fellow Pack members. Some lycans were just standoffish towards other people.

Opening the ground exit door, Silver stepped out onto the main floor of the club, noticing that there was still a large number of people around for such an early hour. Looking around the room, Silver spotted Strye sitting at one of the tables…along with Darius. It was hard for him to even stand being in the same room as Darius at the moment, but he knew that he would have to. With a mental sigh, he settled down into the extra chair at the table.

Strye was reading a newspaper and drinking what looked to be coffee, not paying any attention to his arrival at all. Darius, on the other hand, had followed Silver with his eyes ever since he entered the area and had a small smirk on his face. From the fumes that wafted to his nose, it was clear that Darius was drinking some kind of alcohol, gin by the smell.

A waiter approached the table soon after he sat down and asked what he would like to drink. Silver decided upon tea, for he wasn’t feeling up to anything stronger than that at the moment. The newspaper was turned a few pages, but never lowered, not even by the time Silver’s drink arrived. He took a few slow sips, feeling slightly anxious yet not nervous.

Strye always did this when he was thinking deeply about something and he wouldn’t look up until he had come to a conclusion for himself. Silver suspected that the waiting was also a form of punishment, but he never said anything about it. The minutes ticked past and Silver’s gaze floated around the room to the different people, though he purposefully kept his gaze from traveling to Darius.

Finally, Strye snapped the paper shut and finished off his coffee, setting both to the side. The anxiousness that Silver was feeling in the pit of his stomach increased when those eyes focused on him. It always seemed like Strye knew everything you were going to say before you even started talking. Even though he had spent so much time around him, Silver was always unnerved by those eyes.

“Alright then…” Strye’s eyes transferred back and forth between Silver and Darius, “We obviously have a few things that we need to talk about. Darius has already explained his side of the event, though…I’m inclined to think that he has exaggerated some things in the telling.”

A flash of surprised anger crossed Darius’s face, but it was quickly wiped away. Silver had noticed it out of the corner of his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if Strye had seen. If he had, he wasn’t saying anything about it. It wasn’t something that he could just point out either. Instead, Silver focused his eyes on Strye and put Darius out of his mild while he began relating the events that had taken place a few hours ago.

Everything was perfectly detailed in his mind, though it took a while to relate every sequence of the tale, but he finally fell silent. During the telling, Strye hadn’t shown any emotion at all and merely sat back once Silver had finished. A minute passed while Strye thought and considered the entire situation.

Eventually, he sat forward again and looked at both of them, “Neither of you are in any trouble.” Silver hadn’t realized it, but he was holding his breath, which he let out now in a whoosh of air. Even though Slyan had said everything would turn out alright, Silver hadn’t believed her entirely.

Strye continued, “Everything had been cancelled and evened out. The two of you are my greatest officers and my successors. It would look bad on me if I were to punish either of you, beyond the fact that I would have to tell the rest of the Pack what happened. But!” he said this last word sharply and sent a freezing glance at them, “That means that no word of this is to reach anyone. If I hear that others of the Pack have found out anything about this, so help me…” He didn’t have to finish that sentence. They understood. Both Darius and Silver knew exactly what he was capable of doing to them.

Strye suddenly waved his hand in a dismissive gesture towards Darius, “You may go. I want to speak with Silver a little while longer,” he said, fixing that stare upon Silver once more. Darius stood and bowed low, “May your days be long, Alpha Strye,” before walking away.

From the side that Silver was sitting on, he could see Darius send a murderous glare back at him and, mentally, Silver shivered. Darius was never one to let something go as easily as that, but he would follow his command. He would just make sure to pay Silver back for it later.

Grasping his tea, Silver took a long sip and waited for Strye to say whatever it was that he wanted to. A small look of surprise came to Silver when he saw that Strye was no longer looking at him, but out at the people in the club. If he was to take a guess, then he would say that Strye was looking at the Pack members within the crowd.

Silver was jerked back to attention at the sound of Strye’s voice, “Every single one of them. Every day I frantically try to make sure that they survive to see another moonrise, while still coordinating maneuvers against our enemies. I won’t lie, Silver,” he was rubbing his eyes as he turned back to the table, “It’s hard. I’m not sure if I could keep up if Slyan wasn’t always at my side. She helps brace me when things take a turn for the worse. Things seem to be doing that right now.”

This last sentence was barely a murmur. It was the first time that Silver noticed just how tired Strye looked. He tried to think of something to say, anything to say, but the right words wouldn’t come. Everything did seem to be getting worse, for their kind was dying left and right in the name of an inane war that would bring victory to none.

A deep sigh escaped from Strye and he finally looked Silver in the eyes again, “I understand how you feel. It wasn’t too long ago that we were at peace with the other races and cooperation was manifold. I was friends with them as well, but this war had dissolved any ties that I once had. I know that you grieve for your friend, but you cannot blame Darius for this.

If I were to die, then Darius would be the Alpha, him being next in line, followed by you. This hatred between the two of you is harmful to the Pack. Also…If I am gone, I fear that he will find himself free to say things about you that I have forbidden him to say now. The Pack’s faith in you might begin to waver. Which is why I will do my best to keep your relations with the Pack healthy…starting right now.”

Strye gestured towards a table near the front of the club, where a group of three lycans were relaxing and chatting. “They are going out on a raid in a few minutes. You will be the leader of their group.” Silver began to protest earnestly, but Strye raised a hand, “I like to think of you as my son sometimes and I do my very best to protect you, but I can’t do it all of the time. This is a way to clear my conscience about you. It truly isn’t that big of a deal and you will follow through! Got it?”

Looking into Strye’s eyes, he could see that there would be no argument at all, so Silver just nodded solemnly, standing. “May your days be long, Alpha Strye,” he said, repeating the same words as Darius. Strye merely returned the nod and said nothing more. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Silver approached the group near the front.

They must have been waiting specifically for him, for they all stood as he came near. Looking over each of them, they were only random acquaintances and no one that he knew well. He let out his breath in one long sigh and walked towards the door, “Let’s go and get this over with. The quicker we accomplish our goal, the quicker we can return home. I’m not going to have anyone get hurt on my watch.”

Silver gave them a smile to show that he wasn’t as serious as his words said and they returned the smile, one laughing even. Once they were out on the street, they casually drifted away from each other, crossing to different sides and staying several steps away. A group raid was all well and good, but you would be asking for trouble if you actually traveled side-by-side. In this manner, if one of them was attacked, then the others could come quickly to the rescue without being in harms way from the beginning.

The night had already begun to wane as they stepped outside and it didn’t seem that they were in luck this evening. An hour passed with no sign of anything and then another. The sun was only minutes from rising when he decided to call off the hunt. The three seemed to be disappointed that there would be no bloodshed, something that made Silver roll his eyes. They were probably newly turned, for older lycans learned to avoid as many confrontations as possible.

“Come on, you three, there will always be other battl-“ Silver paused as a scent came to his nose, the scent of a vampire. It was still fresh…and close. The three rookies tensed up and began to follow the scent, but Silver didn’t move. This is too convenient. Why would a vampire be out this close to sunrise? Unless…

Silver’s gaze traveled up to the rooftops and the figure standing there, holding what looked to be…a trigger. No! “Get back!” he called out, just as the figure pushed down the button. An explosion of fire erupted from beneath the feet of Silver’s younger counterparts, consuming them entirely. They didn’t even have time to scream.

The blast of expanding air flung Silver backwards. Skidding to a jolty stop on the cement, he tried frantically to breath in the heated air. The figure must have noticed that he was still alive, for a voice called down from the rooftop while he was still gasping for breath,

“I see that you survived, dog. You must have some very good luck. Don’t worry; you have nothing to fear from me…now. I would recommend that you go and help the survivors.” A look of confusion crossed Silver’s face. Survivors? But none of them could have… Indeed, for all that he could see in the crater created by the explosion were pieces of carbonized bone. “What…what do you mean; what survivors?” he was able to croak out.

There was a cackle and an arm pointed off into the distance. Following the path of that arm, Silver froze again in complete, abject horror. A plume of smoke rose on the horizon and the orange glow of flames could just barely be seen. The club?! Another glance showed him that the vampire was gone.

Stumbling to his feet, Silver moved past the crater, trying hard not to glance inside. I’m sorry, my brothers, I must mourn you later. Running quickly through the streets, Silver watched the smoke cloud loom over him and noises began to reach his ears. Sirens from the police and other vehicles, along with screams. He raced around a corner, which placed him right in front of the club, and stopped stock-still.

The club was on fire…the back area and the second floor seemed untouched, but the entire main area was ablaze. Firefighters were trying frantically to control the flames, unable to enter because of the intense heat. Coming to a stop before the building, Silver was pushed back by the police, but he shoved forward himself and leaped through the burning doorway. Voices yelled for him to come back, but he paid them no heed.

The fire lapped up the walls and tables were overturned everywhere. Bodies were strewn across the floor, some already on fire. A low groan caught his attention and he vaulted over wreckage to reach a man collapsed on the floor. It was the lycan that he had passed earlier in the stairwell. Pieces of wood had punctured his body in multiple places and he was badly burned on one side. He opened his eyes when Silver came up to him.

“Tell me what happened,” Silver said softly, noticing that the lycan didn’t have much time left. Coughing slightly, he said in a halting voice,

“We heard…that there was…a vampire…seen somewhere…in the alleyway…behind the club…Strye and Slyan…went to…deal with it…themselves, but…they never…came back…so, Darius left…he didn’t…return either…We were thinking…about going too…but then…the elevator…”

His eyes traveled past Silver, who turned to follow them. The elevator doors had been blasted off their hinges and the interior was black and charred. The lycan spoke again, “It moved down…to the ground…floor…We paused…and that cost us…everything…It was…a bomb…I believe…I guess,” He began to chuckle and then choke, coughing up blood, “This is the end for me…Please!...Save them!”

With this last frantic outburst, his eyes rolled back and he was gone. Silver sat there for a moment, not moving at all, and then he swept back to the doorway. Leaping through the flames once more, he exited into a crowd of gaping firemen. He just pushed past them, ignoring their loud protests, and walked to the alleyway behind the club.

Because only the front of the club was on fire, not the back area that housed the second story, there was no debris that he could see. It was also relatively quiet besides the sounds of sirens and the crackle of flame. Alphas…where are you? Stopping in the middle of the alley, his nose flared as he took a deep breath. A multitude of scents assailed him, but he searched beyond the obvious until he came to the rich, coppery scent of freshly-spilled blood. He jerked his head towards the back door of the apartment complex built behind the club.

The door was, of course, locked, but that wasn’t a problem at all. A sharp kick cracked the hinges, but nothing more happened. With a puzzled expression, Silver pressed on the door. It opened a few inches before stopping, blocked by some object on the other side. Pushing harder, the door slowly opened as the object was shoved to the side.

Silver squeezed through the narrow opening and looked to see what the blockage was. To his distaste, he found the body of a dead vampire. This made the urgency of the situation go up a notch and he rushed down the hallway. Not even taking the time to spare glancing at three more vampire bodies, he careened around a corner to another hallway and stopped.

A body was lying halfway out of a door, the upper torso obscured from view, but…he thought he recognized who it was and his mind balked. It can’t be…not him…there’s no way that he would…he was wrong.

Darius lay spread out on the ground, dead.

Silver locked up at the sight, a turmoil of emotions whirling within him. While it was true that Darius was his rival and he hated him with a passion, still…it would be cold to say that he didn’t feel sorrow at this event. Multiple slashes had rent open his body, a vast pool of blood expanded beneath him. It seemed that he had focused all his healing energy on keeping his blood from spilling instead of trying to heal his wounds. This was probably due to the number of open gouges that made blood loss a much more imminent threat. Even with this, however, it had not been enough.

Silver took a moment of reflection for his fallen rival and then peered into the apartment that the door was a threshold to. A strand of light filtered through the blinds of a window, illuminating nothing at all. It just seemed to be a normal room, albeit with an abundance of broken furniture. On the left stood a door that led to a room that must not have a window, for it was like a portal to darkness.

Dread burrowed into his mind as he stared at the opening. From his vantage point, he could see that the door had been crushed, the hinges warped open. He struggled with his body for control, wanting to move forward with no response from his muscles. Eventually his mind won and his feet shuffled slowly in the direction of the door. The opening lay directly in front of him and he stepped through. Darkness surrounded and enclosed everything in the room. A trembling hand reached for the light switch, flicking it up.

Collapsing to his knees, Silver stared blankly ahead, eyes unseeing.

H64 07:19, 4 June 2011 (UTC)

The funeral was held the next night. The police had been dealt with, something that required a large amount of money, and any of their own taken to the hospital had been retrieved. The rest of the Pack traveled to the countryside, a line of black cars stretching like a sinuous serpent. Piles of wood were stacked into funeral pyres and the bodies were placed on top.

Silver stood in front of the two largest, along with the majority of the Pack. Tears raced down his face, gathered at his chin, and dropped onto the cool soil below. Many wept at the passing of friends and family. They were gone forever, leaving a shattered Pack in their wake.

Silver stepped forward, striking a match in the same motion, and tossed the tiny, flickering flame into the heart of the pyre. The flames fanned outward from the point of ignition, enveloping everything in a matter of seconds. The rest of the pyres were lit by others, creating a wall of flame that seemed to span the heavens. He peered into the trandescent light in an attempt to see something, anything. No miraculous visions came to his mind and he saw nothing but flame.

H64 07:19, 4 June 2011 (UTC)

The trip back to Dark Moon was uneventful, to say the least. Silver had someone else drive the car while he stayed in the back. Watching the countryside wiz by through the window, he could only feel the weight of the ball of misery inside of him. Nothing was vibrant with the world anymore, not with his leader, mentor, and the person that was closest to a father for him gone forever. The car pulled to a stop in front of the club and Silver clicked open the car door.

“Have a good rest, Alpha Silver,” the driver said to him as he got out. Surprise washed over him and then he fell into a pit of anxiety. It was true. With both Strye and Darius gone, he was now the rightful Alpha of the Pack. The next in line for Alpha Female would have to be moved up as well, Zzeil he thought her name was.

The fire had been put out ages ago and reconstruction was already underway. Silver walked through the club, sidestepping the jagged shards of debris all around, and headed up the stairs. Upon reaching the hallway, he paused in consternation and then strode forward with measured steps. His hand stopped on the doorknob to Strye’s room. He was entering now on utterly different terms than before.

The room was exactly the same as it was when he was here last, except for one small detail. Silver’s eyes latched onto the book sitting on the desk. It was Strye’s journal and, from the looks of it, he had been writing in it not too long ago. Silver pulled the chair out and sat down, brushing his hand across the leather cover.

The title page merely had Strye’s name and the date he had started it. The date was back in the 1940’s, but this didn’t surprise him. Strye was over a hundred and he had been Alpha for quite a while. Silver opened the book to the end pages and searched for the last entry. It was dated a little after the time Silver had left for the hunt…

“Things have been getting steadily worse over the years. Beyond the agonizing losses that have been sustained in this idiotic war, I now find myself having to deal with inter-Pack tension. I’m not entirely sure whether I can diffuse the situation or whether I am taking the right actions towards it already. Darius is indeed a good officer, but he is far too instinctive at times, when prudence would be a far better option. On the other hand, Silver is usually calm and collected, making good decisions at the right times, but his anger is hard to stop once aroused. He even forsakes the safety of his men for the chance to defeat his opponent. Both of them have opposite traits that would work so well together, if only they would work together. In this type of situation, I wish there was a third option that I could exploit, but there isn’t. I can only work towards the goal of reuniting them and hope that everything turns out alright…”

The entry ended and there was nothing else. A tear fell onto the page, soaking into the material. He’s right. If we weren’t having this stupid feud, then we would have never fought. If we had never fought, then they might still be…be… More tears dropped onto the paper before Silver wiped the rest away. Grief and self-doubt whipped around within him, overlaid with a feeling of guilt.

Everything had gone horribly, horribly wrong and it was all his fault. The emotions felt like they were crushing him beneath their weight. Nervelessly, he flipped the journal back to the front and then to the first entry. Through his grief, his eyes caught onto the line written on the page that seemed like it was specifically for him, even though it had been written decades ago…

“A great leader is one who can rise against all adversaries in order to protect those that depend on them.”

His crying began anew at these words, but for a different reason. Strye had always believed in him and he would do his best to live up to that belief. Silver settled deeper into the chair and continued reading the legacy of one of the greatest leaders he had ever known…