Scet followed the old man as he led along a path winding away from the camp. If Adda had told him the truth, and in his bones he felt that she finally had, then this old Shifter held the answer to more than his problems. He held the only possibility of saving Adda, and she was fast becoming the center of all his thought.
It was the only reason he had risked leaving her, though he would that he could have told her that. The look on her face as he left had been nearly enough to stop him, to have him refusing the old man. And maybe, if the consequences were not so steep, he might have. But they were steep. He might lose her. And he knew, somehow with certainty, that the pain of that loss would make the breaking bond with Lady Gayriel seem like satin brushes against his skin.
The old man was well past his prime, his muscles had thinned into a wiry hardness, and he stooped slightly from time to time. So what was he still doing leading a pack?
In general, when an Alpha neared his time, leadership was handed over to one more capable. The man, or woman, who was most fit to lead. It was a civil and dignified process, one not nearly as violent as the challenging of the Dragon Lord Archon. But there were times that an Alpha did not wish to forgo their leadership, and the situation never ended well.
He suspected that this might be one of those times.
The Alpha might be physically old, but he was crafty with an edge toward sly that Scet didn't trust. It was too much of a coincidence that these Shifters had been scouring the other side of the mountains just as their little group passed through, just after the humans were attacked. Something largely suspicious was going on, and he had the feeling that they had somehow stumbled into the middle of it.
A long-legged insect found the flesh on the underside of his arm, testing with a tentative bite. He flicked it away before it could sink its thick pincers into his skin, grateful for the new set of clothes he had been provided. Surprisingly, once they had arrived at the village, someone had been able to find clothing that fit him. If only they had weapons to share, as well. From what he had seen, they appeared to exist using the most primitive and ineffective forms of spears and sharpened bone knives. Even their arrows were tipped with sharpened bone instead of steel, as modern Shifters had come to favor. He spared a mournful thought for his weapon caches surrounding his cabin. A lot of good they did him now.
The Alpha turned off what Scet had assumed was an old and unused game trail and into the brush on the side; if he had not carried a lantern, the man would have disappeared from sight. As it was, Scet could see only the smallest signs of his passage and the lantern's glimmer fading fast into the shadows.
“Do you know the story of Alikeye-Baroth?” The Alpha slowed, allowing Scet to close the space between them. There was not enough room to come alongside the man, but now that they had left the main trail, he seemed less concerned about quiet and secrecy.
Scet, however, was not less concerned about it. The idea of the man's secrets was alarming, especially ones kept from his own pack, despite that his interest perked up. He didn't know the story of Alikeye-Baroth. Over the last few weeks, he had spent a lot of time going over what he remembered of the old legends, searching for any clue to his new condition.
He had found precious little.
The histories were not written, but passed down from generation to generation through stories, each of which differed in detail depending on the storyteller. It was a wholly unreliable way to pass down any real information. Only the heart of the story remained similar through the tellings, and that was that the legendary heroes had appeared during the greatest tribulation of the forest, the biggest trial.
Well, there was no doubt he had faced recent trials.
“I do not.”
The old man shook his head, sending the bones in his hair rattling. “So many of the old ways lost,” he muttered. He paused a moment, looking back at Scet. In the light of the lantern, with the dark surrounding him, he looked, if possible, even more ancient, like some specter from the past.
“Alikeye-Baroth was considered by many the leader of the heroes of legend. His greatest asset was his strength, both physical and of moral character.”
Scet nodded, though the Alpha had turned and continued walking so that he would not see the action. The tale began like the legends he was used to, by listing the hero’s strengths. He might not know the story of Alikeye-Baroth, but it comforted him that his people had not lost every part of their history, as the Alpha seemed to imply.
“He appeared at the time of the Shifter's greatest need. When the terms of the war changed and the Quatori were summoned, once again, from the dark realm.”
“Once again?”
The Alpha jerked his head in the affirmative. “It is no longer common knowledge, only those that strive to keep the old histories even still hold hints of it. And we all have lost too much.” He waved a skeletal hand, indicating Scet should draw aside him. The growth of the forest had widened so that such a thing was possible, indeed the trees and shrubs along their path were well subdued now. Scet increased his pace until he was walking alongside the man.
“This world, it is not constant. Like the forest plants that struggle with one another to vie for resources and light, so it is with the races. A constant changing, accommodating...or not. The fluctuation between chaos and order, dark and light, good and evil. This age we are in, it is not the first, or the second, or the third time that chaos and darkness were rising. Nor will it likely be the last. Such is the nature of life.”
Scet frowned. He didn't like what the Alpha was implying, that the Quatori were a part of the world. The patterns of the forest were natural, every Shifter knew that death was as much a part of the world as life. That species of plant and animal were constantly rising and falling, sometimes dying out altogether, but even then only making room for something new to rise in its place. But evil...the Quatori, they were not natural. They went against the very fabric of the forest. He thought of the creatures that had so recently begun appearing. Possessions, taking the body of another, there was nothing natural in that.
“In the darkest time of the great war, when the three races faltered and it seemed as though chaos would overtake them all, the great bear emerged. A mountain in both his strength and character, a warrior, and a leader. He gathered the scattered races and brought them together. It is said that it was he who struck the first of the devastating blows to the enemy. He who taught the first warrior's dance.”
The warriors dance...the battle patterns that allowed both the Shifters and the Dragon's to fight together at once? It seemed that was what the old man implied. For some strange reason, the idea surprised Scet. He supposed, looking upon it, that someone at some part of history must have started the patterns, but they were so wide-spread and used now it seemed conceited for one being to take responsibility for their existence.
“He was best known for surviving the treachery of Saricus, a pack that had been long time allies. Alikeye-Baroth had no tolerance for lies, or betrayal, so when the Saricus turned on the pack he led, in the hopes of gaining the territory for themselves, Alikeye-Baroth slew them all. He was outnumbered, the Saricus pack held ten warriors for each of his. The fight would have been a massacre, even the great bear cannot survive such odds, were it not for his traps and weapon stashes, he might have perished before he fulfilled his true purpose.”
Scet froze, his heart throbbing in his ears. The Alpha did not seem to notice; he continued on, forcing Scet to keep up, though his mind raced.
“Alikeye-Baroth was famous for his collection of blades, it is why Thodik, the Saricus Alpha, had lured him from the village with promise of the enemy advancing. They waited, until the pack rested by a stream, to disarm the majority of Alikeye-Baroth's warriors. It should have been their end, but the forest belonged to the great bear, he knew every trail and hollow, even so far from the village. He guided his warriors through a series of traps, the Saricus followed carelessly, to their peril. This evened the odds of the battle, and it was more than compensated for by the blades Alikeye-Baroth had hidden nearby. In the end, nearly two hundred of the Saricus lay slain, each one that had participated in the betrayal, while Alikeye-Baroth lost only ten.”
The Alpha turned then, and noticing Scet's expression, nodded sharply.
“You remember yourself in the tale.”
Scet shook his head, willing his thoughts to settle. “I recognize similarities.”
“You recognize yourself,” the Alpha insisted. “You are Alikeye-Baroth, reborn. This is your history, though it might have changed in the telling over a thousand years.”
“I am Scet, not this hero.”
“You might be Scet, but you are also Alikeye-Baroth. His reincarnation. You might have lived a different life, but inside, you are the same. And you will follow the same destiny.” The old man nodded with certainty, as if the matter was settled, and turned, leading the way along the trail once more.
Scet frowned. It was obvious that there was no arguing with the man, a true Alpha used to his words being law, but he couldn't help but find the words disturbing. Destiny and reincarnation, the idea of being somebody that he didn't know he was. That would mean that his life, every choice he had made, was not his own. His thoughts ran to Adda, his lust for her, his need of her. Six he was obsessed with her. Is that what it was, some remnant of Alikeye-Baroth? Not a choice of his own?
That was something he could not abide, to have his fate spelled out so. But he would not abide a fate without her, either.
The Alpha had gained ground on him now, so he strode forward, toward the lantern light.
“We have had, I believe, more than a word. Where is it we are going?”
The old man grunted, and then turned through the trees back into a thick layer of wild vines and ferns, towards a hill that rose sharply above them. There was hardly enough room for Scet to maneuver in after him, but he did, though his concern about the trip was spiking. When he emerged through the foliage, the Alpha was slipping behind a layer of rock, long ago toppled from the top of the rise. The side of the hill that they approached was nearly a cliff, matching much of the forest terrain. Scet cautiously followed and found, to his surprise, the Alpha waiting in front of an ancient, but well-tended door. What in the Six was a door doing out in the middle of the forest?
“I believe, great hero, there is part of your destiny that you would like to see,” and with that, the Alpha unlocked the door and stepped inside. Scet hesitated for a moment, but curiosity overrode his growing suspicion of the old man. With one last look about him, Scet turned and followed the Alpha through the door.