Echoed Steps - ON HOLD

Chapter Six

Shouts sounded from behind, but Gwynfor quickened his pace – he was not going to stop even for the goddess herself. Deryn’s mind reeled from his back seat in Gwynfor’s form.

“Gwynfor, those things I saw…”

“I’m not sure D.”

“But it… It was you…” Deryn stuttered.

“It was.” Gwynfor’s tone was clipped as his paws continued to pound the ground, putting more distance between them and the pack house.

“What happened?”

“Now isn’t the time.”

Deryn could tell by Gwynfor’s short responses that there may not ever be a right time for that conversation, but it was a conversation he knew they needed to have, nonetheless. He could wait for answers, but whether Gwynfor wanted to or not, Deryn needed to understand what was happening to them.

•º•º•º•

Deryn sighed and shook his head. “Those flashes of memory, they were haunting.”

“What were they?” Halle asked, her wide sunflower eyes shimmering in the candlelight.

“We’ll get to it fy nghariad,” Deryn replied and pulled her closer to his chest, needing to feel her presence as he noticed Gwynfor withdrawing into himself.

“We’ve been through this ’Vor. None of it was your fault.”

“I know.”

•º•º•º•

The forest flew by in a blur, Gwynfor leapt over fallen trees and ducked below boughs, launching his large frame over streams and rocks with a grace that Deryn could not have anticipated him possessing given that not 24 hours prior, Gwynfor had been struggling to walk in a straight line. But Gwynfor did not dare to slow his pace for even a step as they sought to get as far from the treacherous beta and his cronies as possible.

The forest gave way to fields and still Gwynfor ran; Deryn could feel the fear pulsing through them both and knew Gwynfor’s sunny demeanour when they met hid a tragic past. Deryn tried desperately to piece together the snippets he had seen but they showed too little, and they all seemed to take place at different periods of time, it did not make sense to him, but the common themes were betrayal and pain.

It was not until the watery streaks of morning sun began to wash away veil of darkness ahead of them that Gwynfor slowed his pace to a trot. The shouts from behind them had long since died away and they now found themselves somewhere Deryn did not recognise. Based on the sun rising behind them he surmised they had gone west, but what that meant he was unaware.

Soon the rich reds and oranges of the trees last hurrah before winter began to thin, and from his seat within Gwynfor’s mind, Deryn saw the rising mass of Eryri ahead of them. Yr Wyddfa and the surrounding peaks stood proudly above the valley’s mist, the dark rocks dusted with an early smattering of snow, their ridges sharp against the paling of the morning sky and Deryn marvelled at the glimpses of waterfalls shimmering in the autumn dawn light.

•º•º•º•

Halle’s eyes were alight with wonder at Deryn’s description of Snowdonia.

“That sounds incredible,” she whispered.

“Truly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” Deryn replied, brushing a piece of hair behind Halle’s ear. “Until I met you of course,” he grinned.

Halle blushed and pressed her lips gently against his. It wasn’t enough for Deryn, and he pulled her body close to his, deepening the kiss. The memory of the beauty of that morning mixed with the beauty before him had him craving her closeness.

Halle giggled into the kiss and playfully slapped Deryn’s chest. “No, no, no! I need to hear more!” she laughed.

Deryn laughed with her and relinquished his hold on her waist with a theatrical sigh of disappointment.

“Fine, but you better not fall asleep fy blodyn tatws bach.”

Halle gave him an unimpressed look. “Potato flower? Really?”

“Hey, you’re learning!”

“Syns dha glapp! (Shut up) Tell me more about Snowdonia.”

“Eryri. It really was stunning, the harshness of the rocky mountains nestled in the soft roundness of the foothills, slowly revealing itself in the rising light…”

•º•º•º•

There was an ancient permanence to the mountain range, a feeling of lost magic, yet the presence of the Tylwyth Teg was palpable. An effervescence in the air let Deryn and Gwynfor know that the fae were already aware of their presence, and they would need to tread carefully if they wished to avoid a run in with the tricky fair folk.

Gwynfor found a stream and padded over to have a drink. The light flashed and danced on the stream’s surface in the ripples and flows. Gwynfor lapped greedily at the cool spring water, rewarding himself after the night’s exertions. He had not stopped once the entire way, and Deryn realised if they had reached Eryri they had easily run for thirty miles. He marvelled at Gwynfor’s endurance and speed; was this what they meant about white wolves being stronger?

“Gwynfor, we need to talk about…”

“We will. But for now, we need to find somewhere safe to rest and sever your ties to that pack.” The wolf ambled over to a birch tree and curled up beneath it, finally allowing himself to relax for a moment.

“Sever my ties?” Deryn said, alarmed.

“Yes, they can use your connection to try and find you. And if they find us, they’ll cleave us apart. It has happened before, and I cannot do that again. I simply cannot Deryn, I won’t survive it again–”

“I will not let anything happen to you,” Deryn interrupted. He felt Gwynfor’s pain and panic, and his heart ached for his wolf spirit. What had he endured? “You said ‘again’, is that what those memories were? Severing rituals from your past?”

Gwynfor said nothing but Deryn knew he was correct. Gwynfor had been stolen from his human counterparts before, and more than once. Deryn could only imagine the pain for both him and the humans involved– it must have been terrifying and agonising.

“Did… did any of your previous humans survive…?” Deryn asked, not entirely sure whether he wanted to know the answer.

Gwynfor remained silent, giving Deryn the answer he needed to motivate him to escape with their lives. He had known Gwynfor for less than three days, but he wanted to protect his wolf as much as his wolf wanted to protect him and if Gwynfor said breaking his ties to his pack was necessary, then Deryn was going to trust that.

“Alright, what do I need to do?” he asked.

Gwynfor perked up and Deryn felt a surge of gratitude wash through their connection; his wolf appreciated that Deryn trusted him.

“We shift back, you need to stand in the stream and face the direction of your pack. We need to find a way to cut your palm and you declare ‘From this blood I was bound. By this blood I am freed.’ Then we howl and say, ‘this voice is no longer yours.’ You should feel the pack connection break right away.”

“Well, that sounds easy enough.”

“It is. Let’s shift.”

Deryn’s heart sank. He already hated the shift, although the escape from the packhouse had happened so fast he had not had time to register the agony, he knew this was going to hurt again. Gwynfor stood up and stretched his tired muscles before plodding over to the stream.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No,” Deryn replied.

“Hard luck,” Gwynfor chuckled and initiated the shift.

Bones cracked and shrank, the fur stung as it receded, his lupine muzzle ached as it shrank back into a human face and Deryn felt his spine straighten until he stood upright, naked, in broad daylight. He cared not though, as he was too focused on his thrill at the shift hurting less than the previous times. Maybe there was a chance it could get better.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Gwynfor laughed.

“No, that was much better… will it stop hurting eventually?”

“Eventually, yes. So, you ready to do this?”

“Yes, but what can I cut my palm with?” Deryn asked, looking around but seeing nothing of use.

“I have an idea, you won’t like it, but it will work…” Gwynfor said ominously.

Before Deryn even had a chance to respond, Gwynfor pushed forward for a moment and bit into Deryn’s palm, drawing the required blood.

“Ow! Was that honestly necessary?!” Deryn snapped, affronted at Gwynfor’s actions.

“Yes, the sooner we do this the better. Now, say the words.”

Deryn walked back into the stream, the cold water sloshing at his ankles making his whole body shiver.

“I do hope our mate doesn’t appear, she won’t be impressed,” Gwynfor snickered.

“Shut up you.”

Deryn shook off Gwynfor’s joke, but he was secretly glad that his wolf’s playful side had returned. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back and spoke aloud as he squeezed his fist, allowing his blood to drip into the stream and be washed away– a metaphor for his connection to the pack that had killed his parents.

“From this blood, I was bound. By this blood I am freed.”

Instantly, Deryn felt the pull home weakening. Gwynfor pushed forward, but Deryn felt the sensation to be strange; as though the two consciousnesses occupied his being simultaneously, like his skin was too full. Gwynfor howled and Deryn followed his lead, allowing his voice to mingle with Gwynfor’s.

Once the howl was done, he spoke again.

“This voice is no longer yours.”

~~Dense fog dissipated, the mournful howl echoed through the trees, alone, scared. The white wolf faces his home and all those he held dear as he sings his lament, before turning heel and running into the wind. But it’s no use, they’re on his tail in mere moments. It was no use…~~

As the memory died away, Deryn felt panic bubble in his chest that history would repeat itself but the sensation of a snap in his mind cut through the fear. He felt a pinch at his temple as the connection to his pack washed away with his blood in the water. He watched as the red liquid dripped down into the clear water only to be diluted immediately and dispersed like smoke on the wind. He stood watching it, transfixed, for several minutes, replaying in his mind all that had happened the last few days. He raised his head and spoke a lament for his parents into the southerly breeze that had crept up.

“Y gwynt a gymer eich enwau, carreg a gedwir eich esgyrn. Rwy’n udo am y distawrwydd a adawsoch.” (Wind takes your names, stone keeps your bones. I howl for the silence you left behind.)

Gwynfor joined Deryn in a long, mournful howl for his parents, and all they had lost. When his chest was finally empty, the only sounds to be heard were the chittering of the birds and the creaking of the trees harmonising with the gentle babbling of the stream.

Deryn fell to his knees in the water and let his head fall into his hands as he sobbed, praying to Arianrhod that the water could somehow wash away his pain. Gwynfor fell silent again, allowing Deryn a private moment to bear his soul to the elements and pray to the Goddess for solace.

•º•º•º•

“I’m so sorry hwegen,” Halle soothed. She could feel Deryn’s pain at rehashing the memory through their bond, and she knew Elowen was comforting Gwynfor privately.

Deryn just stared down at where Halle had interlinked their hands. He wished his parents could have met his beautiful mate, could have seen him grow and thrive into the man he was, could have known the friends he surrounded himself with. He knew he could not change what was, but it stung, nonetheless.

“They would have loved you,” Deryn said sadly.

“And I’m certain I would have loved them in return,” Halle said softly.

Deryn smiled, but Halle noticed it did not reach his eyes. His grief was still raw all these years later and she wished there was a way she could lift his burden.

“Shall we shift and go for a moonlit run? You can keep telling the story…”

Deryn shook himself, as though shrugging off his cloak of pain. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

They stood from the bed and Deryn gave Halle a chaste kiss before leading her to the rear door of the cabin. He peered out to check no one was around to see his mate naked, and when he saw the coast was clear he pulled her out into the cool night air.

Deryn’s eyes darkened as Halle dropped the sheet she was holding around herself. The moonlight bounced off her milky skin and Halle blushed as she saw the hungry look on Deryn’s face. He stepped forward, a hand raised to caress her pebbled n****e but before his hand could make contact, Halle let Elowen take control and shifted almost instantaneously, bounding off the porch and into the thicket ahead.

“No sir, you have a story to finish!” Elowen’s teasing voice called through the mind link.

A growl of delight rippled out of Deryn’s chest before Gwynfor took over and shifted, following his love in hot pursuit, darting between the trees to chase her under the silvery illumination of the moon.

“I don’t know how long we stayed at Eryri, but were it not for Gwynfor I’d have starved fairly quickly…”