Yara: Civil War

Chapter Six

    Jorrund held Yara a little tighter, wondering how he was going to comfort her. He would fight to his last breath to protect her, but he had never dealt with her anxiety before. Myra cut in for a hug, and Jorrund stepped back to get himself something to drink. Logan saw his opportunity, and moved in Jorrund’s place. He spun Yara to face him, and Myra puffed disapprovingly. Logan cupped Yara’s face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. 

    “You are so much stronger than you realize,” he told her softly, his golden eyes bright and fierce. “The Yara I know is a badass,” he said, and she smiled a small smile. “You’ve never given up, you’ve always done what’s right. And that’s the best part about you,” he whispered. “I know that what ever this is, you won’t let it change you. You are in control of you.” 

    “Thank you, Logan,” Yara whispered, closing her eyes. 

    “Um, Logan,” Myra whispered, getting his attention. “Boundaries, wolf boy. Before the Nord over here sets you on fire.” She flicked her eyes towards Jorrund, who was glaring daggers into Logan’s back, his hand dangerously gripping the drinking glass. Yara could hear the glass begin to crack. She pulled out of Logan’s hands, and sighed. But Logan growled before she could even speak.

    “Am I not even allowed to console her anymore?” he yipped, frustrated and annoyed. He spun to face Jorrund, heated. “Seriously? What’s your problem?” 

    “You!” Jorrund snarled, and the glass shattered. Yara and Myra raised their hands instinctively, reflecting the glass away from them with magic and the shards fell to the floor. “I get it, okay,” Jorrund snarled in Logan’s face, and Logan ripped a snarl from his mouth. “I get you two were close, I get that this betrothal is inconvenient for us.” Green fire flickered in Jorrund’s fingertips, and Yara knew she had to get them out of the house before Jorrund unintentionally set her home on fire. “But you have to stop butting in. Consoling her, is now my job. Being there for her, is now my job. And I know what you're doing,” Jorrund growled. Yara and Myra slowly crept for the back door, and opened it, hoping they boys would just make their way out of the house. Jorrund took a step closer, forcing Logan to take a step back. “You’re stepping on my toes.” 

    “I wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes if it weren’t for this stupid betrothal!” Logan yowled. “I was here first! How are either of you okay with this? I don’t think you ever considered my feelings on this matter,” he spat at Jorrund. 

    “No, maybe not, but I had to consider my girlfriend’s feelings at the time, not yours. She was affected by it just as much as you. And she still understood it better than you.” Jorrund glared some more, and finally Yara butted in. 

    “Okay, either you two need to take this outside, or we need to end this now so we can focus on dealing with this situation with Dorran,” she spoke firmly, stepping in-between the two wired up boys. “Look,” she began, her tone soft. She looked between them both. “This hasn’t been easy on any of us. Life was normal before we were bound in this betrothal. But,” she took a deep breath. “This is how it is now. Jorrund and I are getting married, and that’s it. Logan,” Yara looked at him with pleading eyes. “I’m grateful to have you as a friend, but that’s all we can be now.” Tear’s formed in Logan’s eyes, and Yara had to fight her’s back. “I’m so sorry, because I know we were really good together. And, I love you.” Logan choked back a sob, the finality of her words hitting him. “But, this has to end, and I’m sorry.” Myra was sitting quietly and awkwardly in her chair, and Jorrund had backed away from Yara, leaned against the fridge. Logan shifted his eyes down, completely torn. 

    “It’s okay,” he breathed. “I get it now.” He phased into his wolf, and ran out the open door, his black fur bristled in hurt and anger. Not bothering to look back, Logan took off through his pack and into the forest, howling woefully. Yara breathed out, and slumped against the center island. 

    “I can’t take much more of this emotional turmoil,” she moaned. Myra patted her friends shoulder. 

    “I bet. But can you imagine what he’s feeling right now too? He’s not accustomed to the way we do things. And I doubt anyone saw a betrothal coming.” 

    “We can’t keep focusing on this though,” Jorrund gruffed. “I know this is hard for all of us, but we have bigger fish to fry. We are going to have to work on this after we deal with Dorran.” 

    “You're right,” Yara replied. “As much as I’d like for us to be able to work through this like we need to, we have to focus on stopping Dorran. He’s getting out of control.” 

      “Yara, your father is requesting you and your friends come up to his study. He and Ivar need to speak with you all,” Phoenix chimed in her head, her calm voice like a fresh drink of water in Yara’s tired brain. 

      “Alright, tell him we will be there shortly,” Yara replied, and relayed the message to Myra and Jorrund. “I’m assuming this is going to be about Dorran.” 

    The three of them headed upstairs, finding Jordan and Ivar pouring over books and maps. Jordan had several orbs of light floating around him, his fingers directing them where ever he needed them to be. Most of them were held over various books, while a main light was drifting above his head. Ivar was reading an ancient looking book, his brows pulled together in concentration. 

    “You two look busy,” Yara spoke, drawing the men’s attention.

    “Very,” Jordan huffed, looking back to his books. “I’ve got Ivar reading up on the Enigma so he know’s what it is we are dealing with.” 

    “Where’s my son?” Ivar asked, looking at the group. Yara’s face felt flushed, and the topic became slightly uncomfortable. 

    “Um, well, we kind of got into an argument,” she told him in a small voice. She hated talking about Logan with Ivar, especially now since she was betrothed to Jorrund. Wolves loved differently than anyone, and she knew his grief was affecting his whole pack. Ivar simply nodded his head to her relief, and went back to his book. 

    “I see. I’ll contact him, and he can listen in on our conversation.” Ivar closed his eyes for a moment, reopening them and looking back at his book. “This information on the Enigma is borderline confusing to me,” he chuckled, and finally closed the old book, having enough of it. “From my understanding, the Enigma was created for vampires, solely, by an ancestor of your’s.” He gestured to Yara and her father. “But it’s described as this, all powerful weapon, beyond vampires.” Ivar shook his head. “With power’s like that, why would they be limited to vampires?” When he finished speaking, the three teens had sat down, Yara by her father, Jorrund by the map, and Myra fiddling with her own light orb next to Yara. 

    “The Enigma is complicated,” Yara spoke, her father too into his books. “I’ve read that book so many times, and I’ve come to think that, while it was intended solely for the purpose of vampires, it may hold more power than just to obliterate vampires. Which is why it’s so dangerous, its capabilities were never explored, and none of the witches or warlocks ever messed with it.” 

    “That doesn’t make any sense,” Ivar huffed, and Yara shrugged.

    “Nothing that involves the Enigma does. You would have thought that with something this powerful, they would have done more with it. But the council forbade it a long time ago, and nobody cares enough to go against it. We just protect it at this point.” 

    “Maybe that’s why Dorran want’s it then?” Myra chimed. “Do you think he know’s that it could be capable of more?” 

    “He either is willing to test out that theory and is using this war of his to cover it up, or he really thinks it’s this crazy powerful artifact and actually wants it to use against his enemy vampires,” Jorrund said. “Either way, he can’t be allowed to have control of it.” 

    “Another question,” Ivar asked, raising his hand for a second to cut in the conversation. “Why is it designed as a pocket watch?” Yara, Myra, Jorrund, and even Jordan all looked at each other, and then shrugged, turning their gaze back to Ivar. 

    “We don’t really know,” Jordan spoke, finally closing a book he had dived nose first into earlier. “It’s always looked like that. I don’t think anyone desired to question the appearance of something that’s said to hold such power that it could wipe vampires from existence. At least, from on Earth.” 

    “Wait, wait, what do you mean, ‘On Earth’?” Ivar questioned, a bewildered look on his face. “There are other places besides Earth?” Myra giggled, and Yara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Sometimes she forgot that Logan was the only one who knew of the thing’s she would tell him, and that he was bad at telling his father. Since shifter’s weren’t able to use magic, there was no point in them needing to know some of the information that magic user’s knew. 

    “Well sure,” Jordan continued, unfazed by Ivar’s question. “How do you think we can conjure spirits? Or when we conjure the deamons when we battle? They have to come from somewhere. If they didn’t exist, we wouldn’t be able to summon them.” 

    “I always thought that was just part of your magic,” Ivar admitted. Myra laughed again, unable to help herself, and Yara poked her. 

    “I’m sorry,” Myra apologized to Ivar. “It’s just, for us, this is common knowledge. I forget that shifter’s just don’t know this kind of stuff.” Myra stood up and sat over by Ivar. “When we summon things, depending on what it is, it has to come from somewhere. We might be powerful, but we aren’t God’s. They can conjure anything they want, they have the ability to actually make things. But we can’t, or it would kill us if we tried. We just don’t have that kind of energy.” Myra sat up straight, and Yara knew she was about to go all Teacher on Ivar, who seemed willing to learn something knew outside of his pack. Yara sighed, wishing she could teach, she just didn’t have the capacity for it outside magic users. 

    “So thing’s like this,” Myra spoke, tracing her fingers on her left hand intricately in the palm of her right hand, and a metal orb materialized in her hand. “This uses minerals here on Earth, and they form together in my hand. Because it’s a simple and common metal on Earth, it has less consequences than if I wanted to try and conjure up a star.” Myra let the ball of metal fizzle out of existence. They all watched Ivar’s face light up with fascination. 

    “Is it because a star is insanely hot?” He asked, looking like a kid. 

    “It’s not just that,” Myra started to explain. “I could try and form a tiny star in my hand, but it would take so much more compounds, so much more pressure, and I could end up accidentally killing myself in the process. It’s about what we can handle, our energy is like flexing another muscle. And we just happen to be really strong.” Ivar nodded his head, and Yara hoped he was really understanding what Myra was telling him. But being an Alpha, Yara trusted he was keeping pace. 

    “Now, when we summon thing’s, whether it be a spirit or a deamon, that’s a little different. We are literally calling upon something or someone to cross over from somewhere else, we aren’t making them. When a God or Goddess creates, it’s literally coming from them, they have enough strength and magic to withstand the amount of energy it costs to do something like that.” Myra closed her eyes, and Yara could hear the familiar chant Myra always used to summon her familiar. He was a wild creature, summoned accidentally one day by Myra when she was doing one of her crazy experiments. The deamon had the body of a deer, his fur glossy and black, but instead of antlers upon his head, the creature had horns that spiraled up. His eyes were flaming orange, slitted like a cat’s, and he had shaggy hair down his neck and back that looked like black silk. Sometimes when he would scent the air, Yara could see his tongue was like a snake, and he hissed in a voice that always made Yara shudder. She watched as Ivar looked at him with wide eyes, unsure on how to feel about the creature that stood before them. 

    “Yesssss? What iss it, Myra?” he spoke, yawning lazily, his long, sharp teeth gleaming menacingly in the light. “I have, better thingssss to be, doing.” The creature looked around at his surroundings. “Thiss isss, boring.” His gaze narrowed at Myra, his toung flicking to taste the air.

    “Nightflame, sorry to bother you,” she cooed, and stood up. Myra lovingly stroked her familiars face, and Yara could hear him purr as he closed his eyes. “I summoned you as a demonstration, please don’t be mad.” 

    “I will be, lesssssss mad, if you return me, to my realm,” he growled lowly. “I wasss having a mossst, perfect nap.” Nightflame shifted his weight, and his glossy fur shimmered majestically. 

“I will return you soon, I promise. I’m demonstrating certain abilities to our friend here, so he has a better understanding of how magic works.” Myra continued to pet Nightflame’s face, and as far as Yara could tell, he liked it. Nightflame pawed the ground, and a small tendril of smoke seeped out of his nostrils. 

“Doessss your friend, need a, demonssstration, of my magic asss well?” he asked, and let a small flame escape from his mouth, sharp teeth glittering in the light. Myra chuckled.

“Oh no, we wouldn’t doubt your magic capabilities. I’m just showing him how I summon things from other realms, and you came to mind.” 

“Nexxt time, pick sssomeone elsssse,” Nightwing hissed. 

“Hey, guys, where’s Phoenix?” Jorrund asked, noticing she wasn’t in the room.

“Phoenixxxx?” Nightflame inquired, turning his head to look at Jorrund, and Yara shuddered at his voice again for the third time. Before anyone could provide an answer for the deamon, Phoenix had opened the door to join them, and locked eyes with Nightflame. She shifted into her original form, careful to tuck her wings against her body in the small space, and hissed at the deamon loudly. 

“It has been far too long, Nightflame.”