Final Farewell
This was the second funeral that Ash had seen in her year with the pack, and yet again she didnt hear a word of the ceremony, though she didnt doubt that the rest of the pack heard her sobbing as she clung to what she considered to be the rest of her family, Loki and Blaze with Shadow sat on her feet.
Loki stared at the largest of the pyres, his back ram rod straight and an arm around Ash’s shoulders, holding her tighter to him for the little comfort he could get from her scent, strangely minty and fresh and consoling, rather like a nice warm fire on a cold night. Or an Ice cold drink on a melting hot day.
The time had come for the final farewell, for the pyres to be lit and the souls of the lost warriors and Micah to be sent to the goddess with love of the pack. All eyes were turned to Loki and Ash, unsure who was going to light the fires. Neither one seemed eager to take the final act of goodbye.
Ash and Loki looked to each other, Ash could see the memories of his childhood with Micah, of playing in the garden, of climbing trees, of training with the warriors, of dinners with loving parents and Mrs Black and a whole pack. It hurt, somewhere deep in Ash’s soul to see the realisation that the whole family he knew and loved all his life, was gone, and Loki was the only one left. She longed with all of her heart to soothe that pain for him, to make it better.
Loki looked down into Ash’s face, he could see the pain at the loss of her mate. The pain in her heart that would have killed many lessor creatures, and yet, here stands this woman, no, this girl of 16, not even at her maturity yet, was here at his side, standing strong and trying to ease his discomfort.
Somehow, they seemed to be in complete sync in that moment. Their hands linked as they took the first step towards the line of pyres. Loki took up the torch offered, Ash lit it for him with a small gesture, and in silence they took opposite corners of each pile of wood and sticks surrounding a white wrapped body. They moved down the line from left to right.
Both of them paused at the largest of the pyres in the centre of the line. Neither wanting to take that final step to say goodbye to Micah. Tears streamed down Ash’s cheeks as she silently sobbed.
Eventually Blaze took the choice from them, loading an arrow into his bow, lighting it with a few strange, muttered words, and he shot it. The lit arrow soared through the air and landed in the middle of the pyre, which erupted into a huge bonfire as if it had been doused in petrol. Amongst wolves, this was supposed to be a sign that the wolf was accepted by the goddess and his soul was being welcomed by her with open arms.
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The celebrations, though subdued, continued around the still burning pyres. It was a well known fact that a wolf’s metabolism prevents them from getting drunk, but that dosen’t stop them from trying, in some cases frequently and very hard. Loki was one of these cases. He had drank a bottle of vodka, half a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of tequila (this made him vomit).
Ash was curled into a chair she had conjured from who knows where, watching the fires burn and feeling the pain in her heart as the final threads of her matebond with Micah broke. She wanted to scream and rage, to throw things and hurt someone. She needed to blame someone. But who could she blame? They got sick, Micah got sick and he didnt get the cure in time, should she blame herself? For not figuring it out sooner? For not getting to him fast enough? For letting him get away with not telling her what was going on? Should she rage at the world for lieing to her? Because wolves were not supposed to get sick, except, clearly they did!
it was about 2 hours after the fires were lit, the sun had well and truly set by now. The moths played chicken with the flames, attracted by the heat and the light that could burn them and kill them, trying to find somewhere to perch. Ash watched as the wolves around her became louder and louder, each trying to outdo the other. The teenagers and Loki vomiting in the grass. She shook her head and wrapped her arms tighter around herself, snuggling into one of Micahs oversized hoodies.
Blaze had been relaxing with Shadow, the hound enjoying the heat of the pyres but under strict instructions to stay out of the flames, he might be a hound a hell but Blaze was sure that the wolves wouldn’t appreciate him playing in their loved ones funeral pyres. Blaze was sure to keep Ash within in his eye line. But strangely enough, he also felt the need too keep an eye on Loki too.
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The fires were finally beginning to die down, Ash was stiff in her chair, Loki was asleep with Shadow, leaning against her legs.
Out of nowhere there was a flash of light, with a loud bang. Loki and Shadow were both startled by the sudden noise, and on their feet, ready to attack, and by the looks of them, shred, any threat. Shadows hackles were raised, his fur standing on end, snarling at thin air around him. One look at Loki told everyone that Greyson was perfectly ready to take over and defend anyone and everyone from whatever was coming next, clearly he too needed let off some steam.
When the chaos calmed, Blaze and Loki turned to look at Ash. She was pale as a ghost, and shaking slightly. She reached out a hand to Loki, grabbing his arm tightly, judging by the way Loki winced, she was holding onto him tightly.
Clutched in her other hand was a scrap of paper, burnt around the edges and smoking slightly. It appeared, at first glance to be blank, however, the slightly glazed look in Ash’s eyes told a different story. That piece of paper was telling her a story.
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“What is it? Ash talk to me! What does it say?” Loki demanded. His hand grasping her wrist as she had held onto him, shaking her arm lightly.
“Not yet, give her a minute, she’s still working” Blaze told him, giving Shadow a subtle hand signal, relax but stay near.
The pair stood over Ash, preventing the rest of the pack seeing the blank look on her face that could be mistaken for an absent seizure if you didnt know better. It was several minutes, though it felt much, much longer to Loki, the minutes seeming never ending, before Ash shook her head, shaking off the blank, glazed, far away look. She spat one word, a name, “Kit” before pushing to her feet and between the two stunned men before her.
Loki, Blaze, Shadow and Mark all took off after Ash, heading in the direction of the entrance to the dungeon cells. Only Shadow was able to keep up with her, Loki could her the pounding of her heart over the thud of her bare feet on the ground.
The door to the dungeons was still locked, the warriors in place to guard the door unharmed, for now, when everyone arrived “I am your luna and I demand that you let me through this fucking door right now!” Ash was shouting at the men.
“Yes, you are Luna, but, but Alpha Micah had given strict instructions” the guard attempted to reason with Ash, even as he cowered away from her.
“I said now! Let me the fuck in! They are going to be gone and the longer I have to stand here convincing you the less chance I have to stopping it or finding any clues!”
“I’m sorry Luna, I don’t understand, this is the only way in and out of the dungeons, no one is going anywhere…”
“You have no idea the kind of magic was are dealing with here! The prisoners are being taken while we argue, Loki, make them open the fucking door!” Ash shouted, much louder than was strictly necessary but Loki felt her frustration. As she turned to look at the group that had followed her, her eyes met Loki’s easily even though he was stood at the back of the group.