Yara: Civil War

Chapter Eight

    Logan Ule was anxiously pacing, grounding out a dirt path into the ground. His ears twitched in anticipation, listening for sounds of other wolves. His golden eyes shown brightly, his body still. He was waiting for the arrival of another pack, remembering the events that led up to this moment with his gut twisted with nerves.

~

    Logan remembered falling asleep on the couch in the Senex house, listening through his pack link to Phoenix telling epic tales of her adventures to the now tired wolves. His chest was bare of a shirt, wearing a pair of sweatpants, his blanket half hanging off the couch. 

    “I dove down into the fight, my claw’s meeting my opponents throat,” Phoenix hissed dramatically, having shifted into her original form for the pack to see. She had stretched her paws out in front of her, and her claw’s gleamed bright white in the porch light as they dug deep into the dirt. Logan’s father gave the go ahead for the rest of his pack to come to the Senex home, and soon they had arrived, carrying their injured and what belongings they could carry. Now the entire pack of wolves were either gathered around Phoenix, eagerly soaking up her words, or they were laying in the infirmary Jordan had conjured up, listening to her story through the pack link. 

    “With my fiery breath, I swooped down low to set their army ablaze. Nothing can compare to my eternal fire,” Phoenix boasted, her fluffy chest puffed with pride. “Their weapons and armor melted instantaneously, their bodies charred within seconds. When the battle had been won, and the smoke cleared away, the fire dwindling down to nothing, a river of metal was left. The Iron Kingdom had been defeated, and the fairy nymphs and their forest was safe again.” Logan smiled as he could hear his pack oo and ahh. He drifted off to sleep, finally distracted enough to not be thinking of Yara.

    When Logan had been woke up the next day by a wailing noise, he found it was chaotic in the Senex home. He was startled and disoriented, having been so exhausted from the previous nights of hardly any sleep. He rolled off of the couch, and with a displeased grunt, Logan quickly gathered his wits and mind linked with his father. 

      “Dad, what’s going on?”

     “Dorran showed up with a small hoard of vampires,” Ivar growled. Another pack member rushed by Logan, growling loudly. The minute the man left the door, he was in his wolf form and had sprinted off in the same direction as everyone else. Logan snarled, angry and confused. 

      “Why is that piece of s**t here?” But he didn’t get an answer, only multiple pack members growling and snarling, yipping and howling to each other in communication to keep any stray vampires away. Logan shifted and ran, his black fur reflecting a beautiful steel grey against the cloudy sky. None of the vampires had made any attempts to step onto the property, and for a moment Logan was confused, until he remembered the barrier that would kill vampires in an instant, that is, if they had the intent to kill. He was unsettled at the thought that they hadn’t crossed over then, feeling that their intentions then were to cause harm. Logan immediately looked for Yara, worried that it was her they were after, knowing they would kill anyone around her to get to her. 

    Logan spotted her amidst the pack of wolves, her black hair wild and tangled, as if she too had been startled out of bed. She had her teeth bared in an angry chant, her prized staff held in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white. With the staff, she held it parallel with her body, pressed into the ground, while her other hand was held up and away from her, her fingers clawed angrily. She suddenly jerked her arm down, and screamed the last word in her chant, and Logan thought he was going to implode as a strong lightening bolt hit the ground in front of Dorran. The wolves instantly huddled to the ground, howling in pain, covering their ears with their paws as best as they could, disoriented and temporarily deaf. Logan’s fur was standing on end from the static in the air, and he tried to shake the feeling from his fur. His mind thundered with questions from the other wolves, some of them completely terrified at what had happened, not all of them aware it was Yara who had caused the bolt of lightening. 

    “It’s okay,” Logan panted in his mind, groaning in aggravation. He didn’t think the lightening was completely necessary, but knowing the grief Yara had to endure from watching her mother get killed, he understood why she had done it. “It’s just Yara.” Logan cautiously walked towards Yara, the same time he saw Myra run up behind her best friend, her familiar following behind her. Logan had only seen the creature a time or two before, and it still gave him the creeps. Nightflame was pawing the ground, hissing, flames flickering out of his nostrils. 

    “Dorran, you are a fool to come here,” Yara snarled, the sky thundering dangerously. Logan knew she was powerful, but he had never seen her control the entire sky, or a storm for that matter, and he wondered if this was what they had been talking about when they said the blood magic was powerful and dangerous. 

    “Oh dove,” Dorran cooed, a sly smile on his face. Logan snarled angrily and trotted up until he was standing on the other side of Yara, his shoulders reaching the height of her waist. “You knew I was coming, I told you I’d come find you again.” 

    “You keep underestimating me,” Logan heard Yara spat. He noticed Jorrund pacing behind his pack, green fire blazing in his hands and engulfing his arms, wearing no shirt and a pair of black sweat pants. His blond braided hair was a mess, strands of the braids falling out the sides and into his face, the rest of it loose. Jorrund’s movements were slow and precise, and Logan realized he was studying the enemy, trying to calculate their next move, listening to see if he could figure out their next move before they acted on it. It was something wolves commonly did in a one on one fight, and Logan grudgingly commended him on his smart move. 

    “I know very well what you’re capable of,” Dorran smiled. “I made well sure of that.” Logan pinned his ears back, not liking the sound of Dorran’s voice, and confused by the statement. 

    “What do you mean by that?” Yara growled in question, and Logan heard the confusion in her voice. 

    “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Dorran pretended to pout. “There’s no way you can deny power like that.” He chuckled. “I know you know about it by now, from your little display back when you escaped.” Logan looked at Yara, and watched as she shifted on her feet, feeling her uneasiness. If Dorran knew about the blood magic, Logan wondered if he was trying to call her out on it. He knew Yara well enough that he guessed she hadn’t told her father yet about it. But he watched from the corner of his eye to see if Jordan would do anything, having silently walked up behind his daughter during their confrontation, but to his surprise her father remained silent, not showing any signs of question or confusion. Instead, he materialized his own staff, the dark cherry wood elegantly polished and wrapped around a jagged stone of obsidian. A soft yellow light glowed within the stone, gently pulsating.

    "Knock off your games, Dorran,” Logan heard Myra grit. “Tell us why you’re here.” Logan had never seen Myra pissed off this way, and some part of him was pleasantly surprised by her ferocity. He always mistook her for someone who was naive, and briefly watched her eyes glow a brilliant gold as she harnessed some of her power, and watched in awe as she summoned a golden blade from her hand, the sharp side coated in what he believed to be a thin layer of diamond, (he could think of nothing else that would glitter the way it did), drawing it out and holding it expertly in a fighting stance. Logan had no idea she was even capable of such mastery, let alone knew how to wield a sword. He was always just told she was an alchemist. 

    “I’m sure she’s told you by now, I most certainly was not born yesterday,” Dorran laughed. “I need that Enigma, and she’s going to tell me how to get it. After all, someone has to hold up the end of the deal her mother made, now that she’s dead.” 

    His words triggered Yara, and Logan felt uneasy as his fur stood on end again. He had a bad feeling that this was about to turn into a raging magic battle, and he didn’t want his pack caught in the middle of her rage. 

      “Pack, fall back to the house. He’s provoking her, and I don’t want any of you caught accidentally in her wrath. It’s about to get ugly.” Logan watched as his pack members looked to his father, and the big grey wolf nodded his head in approval, locking eyes with his son. After Ivar got a glimpse at some of the magic the group could wield, he agreed with his son’s decision. Knowing in his heart he couldn’t leave Yara’s side, Logan stood by as his father directed the wolves back to the Senex house.

    “I’m going to kill you,” Yara snarled. Logan watched as she dropped her staff to the ground, her eyes glowing a fierce, electric blue, and he knew she was about to loose control. Myra held her sword up, her body balanced, and glanced at Yara. Jorrund’s fire crackled menacingly, and the warrior took a moment to look at his fiancé, realizing she was giving in to her blood magic. He fell back behind Yara, tugging on Myra’s black sleep shirt to pull her back away from Yara. Logan stood besides Jorrund now, not entirely sure what was about to happen.

    “Again, I’d like to see you try,” Dorran growled. He took a step forward to the boundary, and Yara stepped towards him. “Funny,” he sighed, knowing he couldn’t entirely cross. “This wasn’t here before. Last time, I could just walk right up.” Yara howled with rage, and electrified one of Dorran’s vampires. The unlucky vampire shook briefly from the electricity, before he exploded in a cloud of dust and black mist. Other vampires close by quickly moved away, hissing at Yara, sounding like snakes. Dorran cackled, and held an amulet that had been hanging from his neck in his hand. “You cannot touch me.” 

    “You just wait,” Yara growled. “There are way’s around protective spells and amulets.” 

    “I wish you’d stop stalling and playing with me,” Dorran said in a bored tone. “I may not be able to cross this barrier you have up here, but I have other ways of getting you to comply with me. For instance, I can start wiping out those shifter packs you hold so dear. Your allied vampires are already first on my list, if they don’t join me.” 

    “Why do you even want the Enigma?!” Yara screamed at him, and the sky thundered. “You don’t even know how to use it!”

    “And you do?” Dorran spat. “Face it, none of you know it’s power. I’ve done my research, yes,” he said, reading Yara’s facial expressions. “And I know it’s far more capable of things beyond petty acts like vanquishing vampires. Imagine the possibilities!” He roared enthusiastically. “And to think, your power is the only thing that can harness it.” 

    “You’re delusional if you think I’d ever help you use that thing,” Yara spat. 

    “Again, I have my ways,” Dorran grinned wickedly. Jordan walked up behind Yara, and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

    “Leave, Dorran, before more of your hoard dies,” Jordan threatened in a calm voice, and Yara narrowed her eyes at the vampires. Jorrund and Myra stepped forward as well, and Logan stepped up, his ears pinned to the back of his head, teeth bared in a snarl. 

    “I’m afraid that’s not happening,” Dorran sighed. “Alright, have it your way then.” He snapped his fingers, and two tall vampire General’s dragged forward a witch that Yara didn’t recognize, but Jordan gasped. 

    “Jasmine,” he whispered her name. “Dorran, let her go!” 

    “I thought witches didn’t like the Council,” Dorran sneered at him. “They’re strict and not very understanding, isn’t that right?” he questioned, circling around the chained witch. Her brown hair was matted, as if she had been his prisoner for days. Logan whimpered, smelling her neglect. Jasmine shunned away from Dorran, a scared sob coming from her lips. “If you don’t lower their barrier down for me, I might loose my patience, and we all know what happens if my patience runs out,” he growled in Jasmine face, and she started crying. Her brown eyes looked at Jordan, pleading for his help.