The Sight- A Different Ending

THE SIGHT

A Different Ending


_______________________________________________________________
  <sup>I had written this like... months ago.  Before I even graduated.  And I don't know why I felt so scared to put it up, probably because warriors is the only real fanfiction I've ever worked on.  This was something I had done to make myself feel better, and I know there's hundereds of other fanfics where Larka ends up being alive, but yeah xD

If you read on, you'll realize how much of the original text I kept.  A lot ^^

This takes place after the wolves leave Harja.   This is my take on the scene where Slavka finds the pack again.</sup>
_______________________________________________________________


Kar was lying on his own one wintry night, though, when suddenly he looked up.  A shape was making its way through the trees, approaching his family's resting place.  The Varg stood and marched toward the creature with a snarl on his muzzle, but as he saw the animal for what it was- or rather, who it was- his shoulders stiffened at the sight of the she-wolf.

"Slavka," growled Kar.  

Kar growled again, but there was something in her eyes, a warmth, that touched him.

"What do you want here?" he said.

Slavka looked tired and sad.

"Solace, and perhaps forgiveness."  

Kar's snarl faded from his muzzle, but he shifted his paws and glared uncertainly.  Slavka may not have fought Larka herself, but nonetheless, it was she who had brought Bran to Harja and this had not escaped Kar's mind.  "I-"

Huttser's throaty snarl suddenly made both wolves start.  "Slavka, you dare?  What drives you to trouble us, more?"  Kar turned and looked back to see both the dragga and the drappa standing at each other's sides.  Fell was crouching behind them, glaring with distrust.

Slavka, instead of showing fear, only nodded and lowered her eyes respectfully.  "I mean no harm, Huttser.  I have seen things, and they have changed me."  She then stepped slowly to the side, her tail low.

Kar found this behavior puzzling, and he stole a glance at Huttser, who was lifting his chin with satisfaction.  "That is right, she-wolf," the Dragga growled.  "Show respect for a Varg when you are on his land.  We are free wolves once more, and as such, I will..." but Huttser trailed off.  His jaws, still slightly gaped, were empty of words as his eyes ventured somewhere beyond Slavka.  Palla's ears went forward and her chin quivered slightly as she followed her mate's gaze.  Kar felt his heart beginning to race with anxiety and he, too, brought his eyes up to the woods beyond, but he went still.  His tail went limp.  His mouth grew dry and everything around him seemed to die from his conscious.  Even Fell's whine fell deaf at his ears.  It was like he was at Harja again, standing at the bridge, frozen in Morgra's grasp.

A she-wolf was coming toward him through the grass.  Kar's heart began to pound furiously.  It couldn't be.  It was a cub's fable.  Larka was padding through the stones.

Kar ran to her.  He ran to her like he had never run for anything in his life-  like no wolf, no bird, no Lera had ever run to any wonder of the world.  He was half of a soul who had wandered through darkness and found his missing piece.  He was an oriole whose limp cold body had swelled with vibrant life and lifted itself from the flames and into the deep blue sky, free and happy and full of purpose again.  He met her, she met him, under the rustling winter branches, and with their reunion came the healing of Kar's broken heart.

After a season of heartfelt greetings and whines and joyous howling, all the wolves finally settled down into the cold, soft snow.  They listened now as Slavka and Larka told their story.


-*-


The mist had begun to clear from Slavka's eyes the moment Morgra sprang to attack the baby.  She watched, awestruck, as Larka bravely fought her off with the ferocity of a mother for her cub, and her old eyes followed the two she-wolves as they fell down the chasm.  Morgra was pummeled and buried under the bridge's remains, but Larka had leaped and therefore fallen at such an angle that her side and head hit the edge of the mountain.  Her body slid down to a thin ledge and lay there, still.

For days Slavka paced back and forth nervously on the other side, slowly feeling the need to find a way to save the she-wolf who had freed her, when she finally came across a place with a softer slope down.  She used it to climb down and across the rocky floor to reach Larka, who by some miracle had survived that terrible night, but now was in a weakened state.  She was starving and dreadfully thirsty, her only source of water being the little puddle of rain on her rock.

From then on Slavka began to hunt for the both of them, carrying the lighter prey up to Larka regularly.  There was nothing she could do about the diminishing water, but she figured that if she could just give Larka enough strength to climb down from the ledge, she could lead her to a nearby pond at the bottom of the ravine.  This was soon accomplished, for no longer after ten suns Larka was able to shakily make her way to the ground of the chasm.  She stayed there, allowing Slavka to care for her until they were both ready to search for Larka's family.


-*-


As her parents, Kar, and Fell huddled around their beloved white wolf, they all found themselves gazing at Slavka with newfound gratitude... and some guilt.

"You have softened, Slavka," said Huttser as they listened to her.  "Have you stepped beyond the harshness of survival?"

"We must survive," growled Slavka, "but I was too hard, Huttser.  I'll use my instincts and hunt where I will and fight when I must.  But as a wolf.  No more than that."

"No more talk then of a Greater Pack," whispered Huttser, "or a boundary that can keep everything out."

"The wolf needs to know its boundaries if we are to respect one another," answered Slavka thoughtfully.  "And not murder one another as we try to survive.  And perhaps we all need to ask Larka's Blessing of each other."

"Larka's blessing," said Palla in amazement.

"The free wolves," said Slavka, looking kindly at Larka.  "They no longer call it Tratto's Blessing.  Now they call it Larka's Blessing."

Huttser and Palla turned to their daughter with a new pride.

"But Huttser," Slavka went on slowly, "a Greater Pack was a foolish dream.  Until, perhaps, the wolves are ready for it.  They must choose for themselves.  And now I know there are things in life that we cannot keep out with mere boundaries.  Should not keep out."

"What do you mean, Slavka?" asked Palla.

"Larka.  She crossed boundaries, not only of rivers and trees, or the markings of power and fear, but borders of the mind and spirit."  She turned toward the she-wolf again.  "You crossed them for us all."

Larka's eyes glowed with shy gratitude, and Kar whined softly as he nudged her muzzle.

"But now it is time for me to cross back..." she said, slowly, "and stay within the boundaries of a free, living wolf."

Slavka sighed, smiling.  "And you deserve it.  The wonders of life can be both terrible, and wonderful.  But no Lera should miss out on any of them."

Palla suddenly looked up again and turned her muzzle toward Larka.  "All these moons, Larka.... I had forgotten to tell you..."

Larka looked at her mother, questioningly.  "What is it, mother?"

"Before Bran died," Palla's voice went soft at the memory of that mournful morning, "he told me that it's not so terrible... not so terrible to be the Sikla."

Larka stared at her mother, unseen thoughts of memories and bittersweet understanding flickering across her face.  She closed her eyes and nodded once, slowly, before turning her face to the side.

Huttser raised his head.  "What do you seek here, Slavka?" he asked.

Slavka's eyes were unafraid.  "To join your pack.  To have cubs again and love and protect them.  To live."

Huttser and Palla remembered Morgra outside the den, Morgra who in her very birth had been made the scape-goat.  Huttser licked his mate.

"Very well, and we shall learn together."

Kar was lying with Larka, that night.  The wolves were watching the stars glittering in the clear, winter sky.

The white she-wolf was resting her head on her paws, blinking thoughtfully at her foreleg as she remembered what Skart had once said about looking at things from a distance.

"It's going fast, Kar."

Kar turned to her tenderly, the thrill of her being alive still coursing through his veins.  "What is, Larka?"

Larka closed her eyes and sighed deeply.  "My powers.... the sight... they are fading."

The she-wolf then began to explain to Kar what she was gradually forced to accept during her time with Slavka.  The dawn after the night at Harja, Larka had begun to feel something fade from her being, something warm and prodding.  Her mind was beginning to close from the world, and it was doing so, rapidly.  Already she could no longer hear the thoughts of the Lera around her, and it was taking much more effort to see through other animals' eyes.  She could sense that Fell's powers had also weakened, although it wasn't nearly as drastic as her own change.   Larka suspected that it was because she, not Fell, had made the choice to reject the Man Varg.  She remembered Skart speaking about this, of the great deer Rannoch, and how his Sight, too, soon faded after his own prophecy was fulfilled.

"It was a great burden," Larka whispered, "but if there is anything that I will miss, it is the freedom of the air. The birds."  She grinned a little guiltily.  "I'll miss sharing Skart's eyes."

Kar whimpered in sympathy, but as he searched for the right words to comfort his friend, he could find none but for the two least sincere.  What good would a simple "I'm sorry" be, for Larka's losing her precious gift after all that she had already given?

However, seeing his inner struggle, Larka smiled and pressed her nose to Kar's muzzle.  "Kar, it is alright.  Is that not what dreams are for?  So that you'll never have forget the miracles in your life?  But I have a new freedom to love, now.  I am no longer burdened.  After all these moons of being tied to a song, I am a free wolf.  Don't pity that."

Kar's eyes lit up as he watched his mate, and he was about to tell her about a song he had once heard Skop sing about freedom, but then Larka turned away from him and the moon's light and it was clear that, for the moment, she was finished with these thoughts of hers.  "Sleep well, Kar."

Kar blinked slowly, and nuzzled her ear softly before laying his head on his paws again.  Yes, after a long journey to Harja and back, he was ready to sleep.


_*_


So spring came, and like Larka had predicted, winter's hardships were forgotten.  The snows melted and the rivers swelled.  The wolves felt a force that neither pain nor loss nor suffering could resist, the force of new life, of rebirth, rising through their paws. It was a force that caused the returning birds not to nestle into their parents' nests once more, but to find a mate and to build a home for their eggs out of the fresh grass sprouts and old gnarled twigs, caused the mother bear to finally emerge with her young cubs and introduce to them a beautiful newborn world... and a force that eventually led Larka, Fell, and Kar on one last journey- the journey to find their own place in the world.  Not claimed by their parents, Huttser and Palla, but a place for them to weave their own life and hearts into and to love and protect, to feel pride in and to build something with their lives, together.  It didn't bring them far, however, for when the three wolves came to a stop and looked about them with weary eyes, it was the Meeting Place that greeted their sight- the enchanted setting that housed all their childhood memories with one another.

A half-moon passed, and soon a miracle took place no less wondrous than the wolves' pilgrimage to Harja.  Kar was lying on the river-bank with Fell when a head emerged from the abandoned fox den.  Larka looked exhausted, but her eyes were bright.

"Come, Kar."

Kar disappeared into the fox den, and when he returned to Fell his face was full of joyous pride.  Fell squeezed his muzzle into the den and for the first time in a long while, he felt a warm tenderness flowing through his heart.  The pups were bound tightly in a bundle, sleeping as soundly as the earth.  Two draggas and one drappa.  Larka was nestled about them, grooming them softly.

"Larka," he breathed.  "They're beautiful."

The pups' eyes opened five suns later.  Fell would spend hours watching the cubs as they began to explore the world around them and, though they found him strange and slightly distant, they felt a peculiar comfort knowing that his tall, dark figure was there, standing above them as they took naps together in the grass.  Fell hunted for them, too, whenever he could, and when it was Kar and Larka's turn to find food for the pack, it was Fell who stayed in their den and, though not very affectionate himself, willingly let the pups use him for a fuzzy, warm cushion when they felt tired or lonely.

And though it took a lifetime for the pups, one glorious day they convinced their uncle to tell them one of the stories that he had once told Kar and Larka when he was young, and since then the cubs lived for Fell's stories.  The new, innocent life that the cubs possessed were reaching something long forgotten in Fell, and that was the ability to see the goodness and light in this dual-nature world.  But their little blue eyes that were filled with blissful joy were beginning to tug something else from Fell's memory- it was the trusting blue eyes of a human babe.

One evening as the sun sank once more around the castle, Fell came to see Kar as he sat alone by the creek.

"Kar," he growled, gazing into the moving waters, "I am going away."

"Why, Fell?"

"Not for long," Fell murmured.  "Only for a few suns.  For I made a pact with Bran."

Kar's eyes opened with understanding as he remembered that night, and he nodded.

"I must sing to him of the pups," the black wolf said simply.  He then stood and shook his mane.  "It is only right for him to know of us, and of your cubs.  He may not understand me, but his heart will be glad."

Evening was coming down as Kar lay with the pups at the Meeting Place.  Larka was at his side, and as they watched the dying sun a question suddenly came to Kar's mind.

"Larka, do you ever plan on seeing Bran again?"

Larka turned to Kar with a slightly melancholy smile.  "Oh, Kar, we shared such a journey together..." she turned away and sighed.  "But no, he must be with his true mother, now, and in his heart he will never forget us, so long as Fell sings for him."

Kar licked Larka's face, whining.

"Mother," said a little voice suddenly.

Larka looked down at the cub sitting in the grass in front of her.

"What is it, Skart?" she asked, licking her son's ears.  Behind her, in the trees, an eagle turned to the mother and son with bright golden eyes.

"Is uncle Fell really gone?" Skart asked sadly.

"Yes," Kar said gently.  "But he'll be back soon.  He promised," he added reassuringly.

"Will you tell us a story, Father?" cried another voice loudly, and a second pup came bounding over and began to scramble over her brother.

"Careful, Rain," warned Larka, "and leave your father be.  We'll tell you a story later tonight."

"Oh, please," came one more voice.

Now there were three cubs sitting expectantly in front of their parents.

"Deltan," said Larka softly, "Pups.  Please settle down.  Your father doesn't want-"

"It's alright," said Kar suddenly.  "I can tell them a story."

"Oh yes, Father," cried Rain, but then she swung around as she heard yips joining her from within the forest.  Before the small family knew it, an army of other cubs, four strong, had bounded toward them gleefully.

"A story?  I'd love to hear a story!" one piped.

Kar laughed with surprise.  "What, where..."

A dragga's proud muzzle emerged from the shadows, but his face wore a small smile.  

"We would have asked for your blessing," Huttser said as Slavka followed them into the clearing.  Palla padded up beside her mate, her eyes warm and bright with the joy of seeing the two wolves, again.

"Oh, Mother," Larka cried as she sprang up at her parents' arrival.  "Father, they're yours?"

"Two draggas and two drappas," Palla said proudly as she met her litter, pointing to the pups in turn with her muzzle.  "This is Skop, Kipcha, Khaz, and Brassa."

Larka gazed at her younger siblings, growling happily.  But then Huttser came.

"Where's Fell?"

Kar came beside Larka.  "He left some time before you came, but he said he'd be back, soon."

"I hope so," Palla whined.  "I would like to see him."

"You're Mother's mother?" Deltan asked wonderingly.

Palla looked down kindly at the pup.  "Yes.  I am Palla."

"I'm Deltan!" the pup wagged his tail and lolled his tongue.

"And you're Larka," Skop peered up at his older sister with awe, and the white wolf found herself smiling.

"You're going to tell a story?" Skop asked beside Skart.

"Well, yes," Kar said, grinning.  "What would you like, children?"

"The Stone Den," said Kipcha excitedly as Khaz nodded.

Kar looked up at the castle.  The twilight cast flickering shadows across its walls.  Bands of light and dark were stroking its battlements.

"Oh no," said Kar, "there's nothing up there for a wolf.  Just empty ruins."

"How do you know?" asked little Kipcha disbelievingly.

"I just know, Kipcha," answered Kar softly, nuzzling the pup's cheek.  Rain suddenly grew jealous and squeezed herself between her father's front paws.

"The Sight," Skop piped suddenly.  "Tell us of the legend of the Sight."

"The Sight?" Rain tipped her head at Skop, forgetting her jealousy.  "What is that, Father?"

"Hush, little ones," said Kar as he glanced at Larka, wondering what Huttser and Palla had been telling their children, but as he looked down at Skop, he blinked.  He had seen a glint in his eye, a little mischievous twinkle, and for a moment he was reminded of when he had first met Larka by the Meeting Place.

"You are too young, little ones.  You have plenty of time to learn of such things."  To his relief, Larka nodded beside him.

"Then tell us a hunting tale," whispered Skart.

"Oh, I know," cried Brassa, nudging Kipcha.  "Tell us about Wolfbane.  Will he come again?"

"Who's Wolfbane...?" Deltan squeaked.
A note came to them suddenly across the wind, and they all looked up.  There, standing on a rock above the castle, silhouetted against the brilliant starlight, stood Fell.  The black wolf's howl rose from his lifting muzzle and came loud and strong to their ears.

In the trees, the steppe eagle stirred.  He swiveled his head slowly away from Fell and his piercing eyes turned in a circle, once more, to the family of wolves at the Meeting Place.  As he watched Kar, and the cubs, those yellow and black eyes blinked slowly.  Then the eagle's great wings opened, and it lifted into the sky.

Gazing at him from afar, Huttser, Palla, and Slavka's voices had begun to answer Fell from the side of the creek.  Fell turned and, with one last look back at the pups, the black wolf vanished into the night.

"No, Brassa," whispered Kar as he watched his brother go.  "I won't tell you a story of Wolfbane."

The cubs started to grumble.

"But I will tell you a better story."

The children looked up happily.

"It was when Tor, the Varg goddess, mated with the wolf god Fenris and their mating first brought forth the earth."

Kar paused and his eyes twinkled.  "Before they had made the waters and the forests or the Lera to roam in them.  Before they had made Dammam and Va who gave birth to Fren, who slew his brother Barl and made all the Lera forgetful.  Before they had made man, the strangest creature and the greatest Putnar of them all.  Before they did any of this, they looked out on the universe and they were glad at what they saw."

"Why, Father?" Rain cried suddenly.  "What was that?"

"Why that was the stars, my little ones," growled Larka, throwing up her amber eyes to the endless heavens.  "For in the beginning, there was light."