Chapter 3 – A Familiar scent

HUNJI

The next day I wake early and begin making my way to the capital. I managed to pay a man who was commuting to Bozgvol, who just so happened to be staying at the same inn I was. He was traveling there in hopes to trade his goods for a big payday to help his wife and soon-be-born child. So, I know the few gold coins I gave him would be welcomed. I throw my pack and swords in the back of the truck and climb in the front seat with him.

“Where ya heading too young man?” He asks as he pulls out onto the dusty road. The old truck bounced and spewed out a dark cloud of fumes behind us.

“To Bozgvol,” I reply, offering him little more. I wasn’t interested in making small talk. He wasn’t doing me a favor. Quite the opposite. I had done him a favor by paying him handsomely for a ride. I didn’t pay him for the conversation. I sigh at my own rudeness and offer him a smile even though his eyes are on the road.

“I’m heading to the Megaron. I’m looking for someone.” I give him a little more thinking about what harm could it do to make polite conversation with someone I would probably never see again.

“Ahh, are you a scholar?” He asks with interest in his accented voice.

“Not anymore.” It’s true. Once upon a time, I would have been considered a scholar. Maybe even been seen as a man of the cloth, at one point. That was a long time ago. Another life ago. “Where are you from?” I ask the man not wanting to talk about me and hopefully diverting the conversation to him.

“Drird is my hometown. It’s where my wife is at. Waiting for me to come home. You have family young man? You married? Or mated?” I shake my head at his expectant smile. He calls me a young man but he himself is not much older maybe in his early 40s. For a human, he aged quite well. When he smiles you can see the lines around his dark eyes deeper and only just notice the slight gray in his dark hair. He catches me looking and his smile widens “I have young wife, but beautiful. She will give birth to my first child in two months. A little girl.” He explains and reaches above his head to the tattered visor of the truck and pulls out a photo. “This is my beautiful Jottie, her belly swells with a little girl. My name is Alec” He offers his hand and I take it.

“Hunji,” I reply.

I looked at the picture, observing the vibrant smile on the human female’s face. She was quite beautiful “Human?” I ask the man and he nods, his wide grin still in place.

After some time driving the city of Bozgvol finally comes into sight. The Megaron sat high up, overlooking the city below like a palace or temple for the gods. History books tell tales of the large marble building once being the home to numerous gods, and the outside of the structure is lined with statues that depict the images of favorite gods and goddesses worshiped throughout history - Similar to Riocht.

A once white wall now faded, and grey lined the city with several entrances. The gates are in the form of large heavy and thick wooden doors that stand open welcoming visitors and traders. Guards would be posted at the gates, ensuring no riff-raff or trouble makes crossed through. The city houses some of the finest scholars and aristocrats on this side of the realm and even though they have an army of warriors, they were not trained for war. The warriors here were peacekeepers. Their job is to make sure the law is being followed and to deal with any criminals. There was no need to train them in battle as this had always been a peaceful country.

Many, many years ago, well before our time when the realm was young and well before the fall of humans, it was said this place was the capital of the world and boasted one of the largest armies anyone had ever heard of under the reign of the gods Apsu and Tiamat. They were said to be born of dragon blood. Legend depicts that before Tiamat was struck down, she had given birth in the form of an egg and Apsu had hidden that egg on top of a mountain. It was a story that mothers and fathers would tell their children, a story that generations of shifters had tried to prove if it was fact or fiction. The truth is there is no proof, only what the walls and statues of the Megaron depict.

These days I find myself not as quick to dismiss ancient stories of the gods. After all Lamia and Mathias have the blood of gods running through their veins.

Lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to the man behind the wheel, I am suddenly brought out of my daze when I feel the truck begin to slow down. Rolling to a slow stop and idling. I look up to see what the holdup is. Expecting to be through the gates and in the city. Instead, I see a line of vehicles and people on foot lining up waiting to enter the city.

Furrowing my brows “What’s going on?” I ask my companion, who looks just as frustrated as I feel.

“I am not sure. There looks to be guards ahead. Maybe doing a random check?” He says pointing ahead.

We slowly creep forward and as we get closer to the entrance; I can see the guards better. That’s when the familiar scent hits me. A scent I couldn’t forget no matter how much I wished. Ruda growled in my head, his aversion to the scent of the pack we could smell just as strong as mine. One that we used to carry with pride until I was exiled and left for dead.

I had always envisioned what the scenario would be when I eventually came face to face with my old pack, and how I would be looked at. What they would say to me, what my father would say to me. I had always assumed I would feel hesitation, embarrassment, or worry. I thought I would at least feel something. But as the truck crept closer to the gate, I felt none of those. Only the deep-rooted anger and resentment I have harbored all these years surfaced through my wolf. I was more curious as to why King Panja’s troops were here performing checks at the gates. The chances of someone recognizing were slim. Besides I had paid my penance.

“State your business.” One of the guards quipped once we had reached the entrance to the city of Andora. Another two guards walked around the truck looking at the man’s haul of goods.

“We are traders…”

“Who is allowing you to trade?” The guard snapped at my companion who suddenly looked lost and worried.

From what I remember Andora offered free trade. There was no need to be sponsored by a scholar, Nobel, or council member. This was new.

“Nobel ScarClaw has sponsored us, sir. We are on our way to his residence now.” I leaned forward to address the guard, throwing out the name of an old friend I had come to know during my time in Andora. I could only hope he still lived here and would vouch for me if needed.

“Very well, you may enter.” The guard stepped back, and my companion drove forward passing through the gate.

“Take a left down there,” I said pointing to a small street between the structures. “Those were King Panja’s guards, something is not right.” Jasper’s words echoed in my head, in regard to the old King wanting to take over territories. When I left Bhakhil, it was rumored that Panja was mobilizing troops, but we had no idea they had already made it to Andora.

As we drove down the streets, I watched in confusion as guards were knocking on doors and pushing their way into homes aggressively. Pushing the residents outside and dragging young girls out, lining them up. I could hear the muffled cries of the family members. The guards shouted at them to shut up.

I directed Alec towards ScarClaw’s residence. If anyone knew what was going on it would be him. He may even know about Morgan, the witch.

We stopped outside a large house, like all buildings here it was white, and the front yard was immaculate and groomed with bright flowers and bushes in bloom. “This is where we part ways. Good luck and thank you.” I said opening the truck door and stepping out.

“Good luck my friend, I wish you a good journey,” Alec says as I strode up to the gate unlatch it, and walk up the few steps to the front door, glancing behind me as the rumble of the truck rolls down the street.

I lifted my hand to the brass knocker with a cat face on it, ready to knock when the door flew open.

“Hunji!” The man standing before me exclaimed in shock and bewilderment. His long dark robes scuffled as he moved to the side “Quickly come in” he rushed me, waving his hand and looking left and right down the street.

No sooner had I stepped over the threshold than he was closing the door behind me. Turning the locks. “Tristan,” I spoke once he stood in front of me, taking me in. “It’s been a long time.”

“Nine years old friend,” He said clapping both my shoulders, his eyes wandering over me and smiling “I have so many questions, so much to catch up on. Please come, I will have tea brought to the study. Are you hungry? Gosh, you haven’t changed a bit!” He chatted away as he led me through the back of the house to his study.

“Likewise, do you ever age?” I laughed, relieved by his warm welcome.

“It’s these werecat genes, they run strong in my family.” He proudly patted his slim belly.

Tristan ScarClaw was in his late 50s and not a grey hair in sight. He still looked like the man I met a little over nine years ago during my time here in Andora. He was tall and lean, with dark blond hair and pale blue eyes. His skin is on the much lighter side, of were-cats. Anyone would think he was albino. His family lineage ran deep, belonging to a rare clowder of cats that hailed from Andora. Their specific tribe resembled snow leopards - their family coming down from the mountains of Mint long ago.

ScarClaw was a record keeper as well as serving on the council in this city, I was truly hoping he was still a member of the board,

We had met long ago when I first came here looking for the chosen one. We had struck up a conversation in the main library of the Megaron one afternoon. Since that day we had become friends and I had considered him one of my closest friends. He knew more about me than anyone else and he also knew I had spent some time in the monastery studying under the priests and priestesses. Needless to say; he didn’t know everything, like where I originally came from, but he knew more than enough.

“So, tell me Hunji, what brings you back to Andora?”

I let out a sigh as I took a seat in the cushioned chair beside him. A small wooden table nestled between us. “I have come in search of someone. You may have heard of her.” I halted my talking when one of his maids came in, settling a tray on the table between us. Once she left, I turned back to ScarClaw “Her name is Morgan, she is the daughter of Orion.”

Lines formed between his brows, and he pinched his lips together “Why?” He asked with a slight bite to his tone.

“I am second in command to her Highness Queen Lamia. Queen of the shifters and I have been asked to find her and bring her back to the first continent.” I watched as his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

“You are the queen of shifters 2nd?” He crossed his legs over “Well I never…” He cut his sentence off and picked up his cup taking a sip of the tea. I knew ScarClaw would need a moment to process. It was how his thought process formed. He needed to mull over the information and then he would ask questions before he gave up any information he might have.

“Were you there when King Orion died?” He asked.

“I was.” I nod. “And I have just come from Bhakhil, where Vargr was overthrown after the King of the Wolves was kidnapped and held as a Gladiator slave for several months. He and Queen Lamia are quite close.” I add on. “How long has King Panja’s army been here and why?”

Now he sighs and sits back, placing his cup back on the tray and scrubbing a hand down his ivory face. “Three days. A few troops came last week. Nothing that would alarm us, nothing out of the normal. Then three days ago 5 units of soldiers turned up. They began upheaving the city and took control. Put in place a curfew and started going door to door looking for someone. A witch is what has been rumored.” He eyes me as he explains, cautious about what information he gives me and gaging my reaction when mentions the word witch.

I decide to not dance around and play games and be straight with him. “The witch is Orion’s daughter. The same girl I am looking for. My first question would be how did Panja know about her? I have it on good authority that she was being held here, locked away.”

I see the lump in his throat as he swallows, his eye squint and he chews on the inside of his cheek. “When Orion died, the news didn’t reach us for some weeks. He and his army protected this city and many others who recognized him as a King. Many years ago, when he came here, he offered us protection and peace if we, the council, would keep the location of his mate and daughter hidden. Of course, the council agreed, and Orion took residence in the Megaron. I was just a boy then, but my father was serving on the board at that point and with our family being record keepers, I am privy to the information. As are others.”

He stands up and walks over to a caddy in the corner and pours himself a large drink of clear alcohol. The scent of the aniseed wafted up my nose. He knocks it back and pours another. This time taking a small sip. “I have to ask Hunji, we have been friends for a long time, and I hope, even though it has been years, that we still are?”

“We are Tristan.” I nod

“What do you want with this girl?” He asks.

“Her brother Finn is still alive and asked the queen to find her. I am here on her behalf.”

“I have no idea if she is still in this city, but if Panja’s son is after her, it can’t be good. There are rumors about this girl. Rumors that she is the last true witch with powers that are ancient.”

I look at him a little confused. “Panja’s son?” I ask.

“Yes, Supposedly King Panja is in bad health and his son led his army here under the King’s order. They have been going door to door for the past several days looking for a purple-eyed witch, taking and holding any girl who might fit a rough description or bare any traits. These are very difficult times for our city Hunji. Our streets are overrun with the kingdom of Eririat’s soldiers. This is akin to a hostile takeover.

Orion’s death left a vacancy, and it seems King Panja is set to fill that void. By any means necessary and this girl, whoever she is, seems to be a main focal point.”

“But why? Why his daughter? A witch is just an herbalist. Someone who can manipulate plants and words. Or someone who has sight. What makes her so special? And if she was, why wouldn’t her brother tell us?”

“Not this witch.” He shakes his head taking another drink “She is the last witch of Andora. Maybe the last true witch in this realm! What do you know of Orion, Hunji?”

“Not much. Only that he is a descendant of a god, and his bloodline was passed down to his sons. Mathias and Finnegan.”

“Exactly!” He says pointing at me “Orion never hid his ties to the gods; it is what kept most of the leaders in line on this continent. So, imagine if he mated with a witch, one that was said to be quite powerful and skilled, their child having greater powers than either of them is a real possibility. Now imagine being able to hold and control that power. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not - she is a wanted girl. Even if she only has the gift of sight, she would be an asset to any king and his army if she could predict the future, see that king’s future.”

Tristan and I talked well into the late evening. We sat and shared a meal, and I couldn’t not, think about why Eririat’s army was here. This was very unlike my older brother and as much as I wanted to let it go and just do my job, I couldn’t. ScarClaw’s concerns with Panja’s army infiltrating the city and taking over were not without reason. I knew nothing of the family I once belonged to and only now had an interest in learning about them. “What I don’t get is why Prince Rostam would entertain this ‘witch hunt’ for his father. I always figured when he became king things would remain peaceful and the kingdom would even flourish under his leadership.

“Rostam?” Tristan scoffed, food spraying from his mouth in amusement “Rostam is not the one running the show, apparently he is sitting rotting in a cell under the palace for treason!” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and swallows his food “No, Farid is in charge and his brother Abbas is his little minion who carries out his commands. It’s their army walking around this city. I have no idea what Rostam did, but I would be much happier if it was, he who was in charge.”

My old friend provided me with a bed for the night. In the morning he would accompany to the Megaron, which is where Tristan was able to confirm the witch was most likely being held. Where Orion had taken up residence when he was in the city.

I lay awake looking up at the ceiling. My arms crossed behind my head mulling over the night’s conversation. I had no desire to go back to Eririat, but my thoughts kept wandering back to my brother Rostam. He had always been a good man, fair, respectful, and loved the people of the kingdom. So how and why he had supposedly committed treason was a wonder of its own. Those thoughts led me to think about what my father wanted with Finnegan’s sister - a witch, rumored to possess not just the simple traits of her kind but maybe even more.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My father had always been a greedy man but tangling with sorcery just didn’t fit his MO. He didn’t operate like that; he had no need to. I had a sinking feeling about this new information Tristan dropped on me. I could feel there was more to it, and my wolf senses were telling me to run far, far away. To go back home and leave this continent far behind me.

I had felt my wolf’s unease as soon as we had stepped foot off the boat on our way to Bhakhil to find King Kellen. I had pushed all those worries and doubts far down to deal with the task at hand and hadn’t thought much about finding Finn’s sister Morgan; Except to find her and bring her back home – to her brother. I was under the Queen’s orders, and I had a job to do and that’s just what I planned on doing.

Now though with the presence of Farid and his unit of warriors looking for her, I fear my task may not be as easy as I had hoped.