Shaken 2 | Teen Ink

Shaken 2

December 12, 2019
By LightWriter101 BRONZE, Moreno Valley, California
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LightWriter101 BRONZE, Moreno Valley, California
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Favorite Quote:
Its not about perfect, its about effort


                               Hillgard

Hillgard entered the chamber expecting to find Riana reposed upon his bed of caribou hides but when his eyes slightly perceived the fuzzy circumambient darkness, she was absent. His demeanor was bound by rage as he stormed out of the chamber, his mind falling into a tempest of hysterical indignation. “Asklan!” Hillgard bellowed, his booming voice charging through the tunnels.

A small she-wolf slid beside him from another tunnel, her face overarched with deep concern. “Asklan is dead, sir and… Roulgan awaits you outside…” she informed, her words quivering vigorously. “He demands you fight him yourself without the aid of an army otherwise you are nothing but an infernal coward.”

“Roulgan?!” Hillgard paused in his step, whipping his head around to meet the timid wolf’s amber eyes. She shrunk back in fear, trembling in his presence. Her small black pupils quivered as she stared straight back at him tucking her tail and let her ears fall back in submission. “I banished him years ago!” Hillgard roared.

“H-he has returned…,” she said shrinking further.

Hillgard’s low growl was not directed at the small wolf but rather Roulgan, his sworn enemy. But was Hillgard truly angry? Or was fear tucked deep under the mounds of false fury? He ever so strongly refused to admit his trepidation, masking it with heavy pique and anger. He left the she-wolf encased in complete terror of him and the possibilities of Roulgan taking over the pack. He drove his huge paws forward, his deep glare rooted in his expression. He wanted to inquire Asklan’s death but with Roulgan meandering anywhere near the territory he knew the risks of lingering idly with questions that could wait.

When he emerged out of the den, white light smothered his vision but before his eyes could adjust, he felt Roulgan collide with him forcibly, knocking him off his paws. He groaned, heavily overtaken with disorientation. He attempted to rise out of the snow but Roulgan tackled him, snarling savagely before effortlessly tucking his jaws around Hillgard’s neck. Hillgard coughed violently as he tried to take in deeper breaths of air. He needed to accumulate energy to knock Roulgan off him but his efforts fell in vain before his eyes could finally perceive his surroundings. Roulgan stood over him, teeth already digging into his thickly coated neck. Fear took its place inside Hillgard’s racing mind. He could no longer deny it. He bled out not just his blood, but his pride as it slowly seeped out of him, staining the snow a deep ominous sanguine.

With a final gasping breath, Hillgard lay upon the snow, dead.

                              Roulgan

He raised his head, surmounted with the chilling crimson blood. The possessor of the gore laid still upon the snow, in a flaccid heap. A stone-cold glower crossed his face in a tense erosion of silence. The majority of the pack stood frozen at the edge of the clearing appearing strongly flustered and gapping their mouths as a response to the sudden atrocity.

Roulgan collected himself in a sharp inhalation of the frosty, still air, concealing his breathlessness, and raising his blood-capped head haughtily. “Restrain your horror and join me in a long victorious reign!” he cried, a curl of mist departing his slightly open jaws.

The pack stared at him; their faces still took up a strong hesitation as they refused to move.

Roulgan blinked rapidly, desperately anticipating a reaction. Just as he drew up air to speak once more, a crushing weight slammed into his back, smashing his snout into the snow with a loud crunch. Several wolves were upon and before he could realize it, they had torn out his throat. The simplicity of his death was no mystery. Apex’s two remaining captains did not shrink in fear of this tyrant nor would they stand down and allow him to conquer the pack. Together they rightfully and formidably ruled Apex.

The author's comments:

                       

                           Aaelen and Riana

Again, a wicked storm provided them with nothing but a multitude of suffering. They continued through the raging tempest, tearing down the will to linger on the agony that wracked their bodies.  They walked on perusing the future warmth of spring when there would be a profusion of flowers with colors beyond imagination. A time when the balmy breeze would trickle gently over their hides. A tranquil time when the grass would be soft beneath their paws. A time when the morning dew would bead their small whiskers. A time when everything would truly be perfect.

 

                           7 Months Later

        The snow steadily began to thaw and was washed away by the warm rains passed down by the mountains. The sun stepped through the crumbling invisible winter wall that impelled it into a cold distance far away from the earth, unable to graze the trees with its warmth. It swept through the atmosphere with ineffable nimbleness, shedding its golden rays over the treetops and sending its light through the delicate viridescent leaves. The sun warmed the mulch causing steam to rise off the ground, encasing the two wolves’ coats with moisture.

Their paws curled over their chests as they laid on their backs upon the thin young grass staring up at the bold azureous ether.

“Aaelen,” Riana started softly beside Aaelen keeping her still gaze on the sky.

“Hm?” Aaelen answered quietly, his voice sown with serenity. 

“What is your favorite kind of weather?” she asked, her gentle words ascending the air like the tendrils of rising steam. She cast her gaze sideways to contemplate Aaelen.

Aaelen sighed contemplatively, drawing up an answer. “You know how it feels when it has rained through the entire day and everything seems dour and somber? Then just as the sun is setting, it breaks through the clouds and casts its gold light through the raindrops turning them amber. That is my favorite weather. You?”

Riana thought for a moment, staring up at the sky with her reflective gaze. “I love when the morning mist hangs among the forest with the sun shining through it.”

Serenity spilled onto Aaelen’s face shaping a warm grin. He beamed at Riana spreading his love over her.

After several moments Riana spoke.

“I think we’ve been gifted, love,” Riana whispered.

“How?” Aaelen asked unable to shake away the smile his lips held.

“With…a family,” Riana answered. “I feel the presence of a pup within me, growing every day.”

Aaelen’s eyes dilated, becoming overcharged with shimmering tears. “How blessed we are,” he said, his voice quivering with joy.

Riana smiled, tucking her head under his chin, closing her eyes, and drinking in his scent. “We are,” she breathed gently.

                             2 Months Later

Autumn…infamous for its wildfires that tore at the lands with its wicked ceaseless flames. Aaelen awoke, smoke charging through his nostrils. He opened his eyes, an ominous orange glow raining down on his blurred vision. He shook his head, drowsiness inducing him to feel addled. He stood up; his legs reluctant to hold his weight. His oxygen deprivation shattered his strength as he struggled to breath. He attempted to take a breath but only drew up violent coughs that wracked his body with sudden pain. He looked at his side where Riana laid, unaware of the severe peril they faced. “Riana!” he roared, trembling violently, ceaseless coughs erupting out of him. His lungs screamed agony as Riana roused, immediately beginning to cough vigorously.  She stood in choked silence apprehending the danger. No words could rise out of the layer of smoke that constricted their throats as they staggered toward their den’s egress.

The roar of the blaze met their ears in a strong gust of wind. Aaelen perceived the dim strong incandescent glow, sparks flying into the air like rain falling upside-down. Huge trees were lined with flames shooting into the pitch-black darkness that swallowed the sky in clouds of thick smoke. The stifling heat sent perspiration raining through his coat. Embers landed in Aaelen’s fur, singeing his pelt and burning his skin. He shook himself, dizziness striking him sharply. The heat stung his eyes, every step ridden with flaming debris.

He led Riana through the inferno, every step pure anguish, every breath excruciating agony. He coughed desperately gasping between spasms of air. Smoke conquered his lungs, scorching them, weakness burning into his exhausted legs. He floundered like a four-week-old pup through the heat, constantly checking Riana behind him.

She reeled against the strong fatigue she must be compelled to in this time of her pregnancy. Fear struck Aaelen, dipping his soul in an internal hell at the thought of losing his family to the evils of nature. He cast a strained glance over his shoulder squinting his eyes at her staggering figure in the smoke’s thick dire, deep, dark brown filter. She collapsed, heavy breaths smothered by an abrupt aggressive storm of coughs. She suddenly began choking, the coughs growing more violent. “Riana!” Aaelen cried, through the soul-shredding roar of the fire.

Aaelen shot toward her in one exhausting leap, leaning over her as the coughing hacked through the chances of her survival. She struggled to breathe, Aaelen’s heart slamming against his ribs. Her coat was dull, swathed in ash and black debris. “Breathe Riana!” he shouted desperately, his voice splintering into shards of ice. The incisive fear cut into his face, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his face as vehement tears accumulated onto his quivering eyelids. “Riana!” Helplessness charged through him, severing all hopes of her survival.

The seemingly insolent flames burst into the air with far more vigor as if deriding Aaelen, licking at the air taunting him wickedly. Feeling deeply chagrined, Aaelen’s tears broke through the walls of his unshakable dignity. No dignity could surpass the anguish that sent a deluge of tears down his ash-smothered face.

“Go...” she whispered raspily, followed by a strong, ineluctable, callous series of coughs. Her chest rose and fell dramatically, her large stomach mimicking it in a soul-stirring way.

Aaelen shook his head sternly, locking his crestfallen gaze on her dull silver eyes. “Never!” he cried dolefully. “I-…” he blinked back a wave of relentless tears, setting his head back on his shoulders and tossing his head up to the smoke congested ether momentarily, in attempt to tear down his strong will to cry. He met her feeble, dejected silver eyes that struck him with despondency. “I can’t leave you,” he finished, choking on his words. His snout wrinkled as he fell into a state of depression.  “I can’t,” he repeated, sobs falling out of his mouth like an avalanche.

“I…command you, Aaelen to leave right now,” Riana adjured sternly, her own voice cracking. “Do it,” she said quietly after a short pause. “For me.”

Aaelen’s expression dropped; the strain of the mental agony gone from his face. He contemplated her, time seeming to stop. He dove into her chest, inhaling deeply to elicit her scent against the strong smell of ash. “I love you,” he whispered frowning deeply within her thick fur. His eyes fell closed, as Riana embraced him tightly with the last of her strength. “I love you too.”

Aaelen pulled away with strong reluctance, the last tear falling down his cheek. He backed away slowly from Riana’s limp body…and his pup within her. They locked each other’s mournful gaze, frowning deeply until the heavy film of monstrous smoke swallowed Riana up leaving nothing but Aaelen’s empty shredded heart, detained by chains of dejection.



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