Chapter 7

Stefan 

Stefan spoke with Clarissa, comforting her. He understood how hard it could be to lose a loved one. When he reported deaths to his soldier’s families, the wails could be heard miles away. Reporting the deaths was technically his subordinate's job, but he felt duty bound to these families.

The pain he witnessed and the sorrow that filled him as commanding officer was nothing compared to what it was like being a friend. It wasn’t something he was familiar with. He wasn’t sure if he was helping.

But soon, she lay back to go to sleep. Her eyes drifted close slowly and he ran a gentle thumb over her soft cheek. She looked peaceful as he shut the bedroom door and headed back downstairs. 

The werecat hung from the ceiling in human form- a sweating scarecrow, splashed with blood. The old lion clung on to his answers as tightly as his pride. Despite Stefan's painful, exhausting torture, the werecat remained resilient. Stefan was ready for a new approach. 

“You were attempting to hunt my beloved betrothed. Were you trying to anger me?” Stefan asked.

He held a dagger, sliding a finger along the blade. Despite its sharp edge, Stefan didn’t cut himself. Instead, he examined the dried blood. This lion had already felt its bite. 

Dangling, the werecat growled and clawed at the air as if he could tear Stefan’s face off from across the room. His show of ferocity and will meant “You will not break me.” 

Stefan glanced over his various wounds- broken bones, ripped flesh. Some from the fight, most from Stefan’s attempts to get information. He smiled admiring his guest’s tenacity.

“And who are you that I should fear you?” He growled.

Stefan dropped his dagger to his side and walked over to the old man. Their eyes met and Stefan smiled wickedly. 

“Prince Aamon Ipos.” 

His smile grew dangerous, as the old man’s eyes widened with recognition.

“You… you live to the far north of here. No way you would be all the way down here. Prince Aamon…”

“Likes to travel and adventure?” He cut him off, giving the lion man a sideways look. “He has a taste for fine women and decapitating werecats?” 

Stefan would have said another race if that was what his captive was. There were plenty of stories of his battles. He would have to pick one. 

As his words floated between them, he met the lion’s eyes and let his expression go slack. The anger and violence he felt about Clarissa’s home coming under attack stormed through his eyes.

The lion man swallowed anxiously, his eyes locked on Stefan. Stefan stepped in quickly and swung his fist. It stopped centimeters from his nose. The lion flinched and whimpered. “Please.” 

Stefan snorted scornfully. “Yes?” 

His tone was light, almost as if he was a friend teasing a friend. The old man looked confused before just hanging his head defeatedly.

“Our peoples cannot fight. It would break the accords.” The lion man growled. “Our Goddess would never forgive either of our peoples.”

Stefan squatted in front of him and smiled. But the other man refused to look at him. 

“Well, how about we start small? What's your name?”

“Quanno.” He growled softly. 

He didn’t like answering to Stefan but he would. Stefan was satisfied with that. He could have kept after him but he was already giving in, there was no point in destroying his pride further.

Stefan sat in front of him, cross legged. “We could have avoided all this ugliness.” He said softly. “I just need to know why you are here?” He paused before growling, “and why did you attack my family?”

The lion man glanced at him quickly but swiftly averted his eyes. 

“They stole from us.” He growled. “We need our property back.”

Stefan nodded his understanding. More modern society would not agree, but the werecat law would allow them to retrieve their property. But simply coming to the human village violated the accords more than they ever had before. Then they attacked a peaceful family. Only desperation would lead them here. 

The old accords were more a fairy tale throughout the world - no one believed in them anymore. Except for the races that were still attached to the old world and the spirit of their species; like a werecat tribe, for example. 

Stefan believed that everyone had access to magic. They had simply lost communication with its source- their connection to their spirit animal and therefore the universe.

“What is this property?” 

“It is a relic, stolen from our ruler many years ago. We uncovered scrolls indicating where it had last been seen. It is here.”

Stefan leaned back on his hand. “I see. This relic? It must be pretty important?” 

He did not answer verbally but the lion’s face answered for him. 

“And well, I guess if my wife is understanding of the men who murdered her father.” The lion flinched. “She could possibly understand the old laws and return it.”

A flicker of hope lit the old man’s eyes. 

“It would be so devastating for our people if we do not get it back in time. The time of the awakening is so close.” He finished in a low whine.

Stefan nodded. “Yes, I know history. I am aware of this time for your people. The stories of the celebration parties have reached even my home.”

The old lion’s eyes flashed with joy at the memory and pride of the tales being told. 

“Without the relic, the time of the awakening will come and go. The world will lose this chance at having a peacekeeper. And with the times coming, we will need another Onyx Sage.”

Stefan sat up with interest. He was fascinated by the old stories and the werecat prophecies were known for being incredibly accurate. This conversation was the story behind the journey. 

“There has not been an Onyx Sage in 100 years.” Stefan said, struggling to keep the awe out of his voice. 

“It is coming. The true awakening.” Quanno replied reverently. 

Stefan stood up. He walked up to the old man and began untying him. Quanno glanced anxiously at Stefan. His eyes scanned the room looking for an escape. His panic told Stefan he thought this was the end.

 But Stefan turned his back on Quanno and he froze. Quanno could take advantage of the way Stefan dismissed him as a threat, but Stefan had no doubt he could gain the upper hand again. 

 “I need a drink of water. Don't you?” Stefan said and put an arm around Quanno’s shoulders. 

Quanno recoiled and tried to step out of his arm. Stefan let him go with a chuckle. 

“Come and you can tell me about this relic you are looking for.”

“We seek a pendant- the key to the next great hero.” He meowed the words.

“So what will the pendant look like? How will I know what the right one is.”

“It was forged from the old white gold mines.” 

When it was discovered, there had been a rush on the rare and precious ore. So all that remained of white gold today were ancient artifacts. They were rare and would stand out.

Clarissa always wore a pendant, which dangled enticingly beneath the hem of her neckline leaving the shiny heart tucked away against her soft warmth. The pendant could easily have been white gold but the chain was not.

Quanno continued. “In the center are 7 elemental stones to represent each eternal element. It is the key.” Quanno emphasized. 

There were stones in the pendant she wore, as well. Stefan stopped and looked at Quanno. He met his eyes, although Stefan could feel his need to look away. There was another question that needed answering before Stefan saw Clarissa again.

”The woman that was here when you attacked, where is she?”

The proud lion continued to skittishly meet Stefan’s eyes. 

“Our men took her to trade for the relic.”

Stefan nodded and led them out into the back yard. Quanno followed slowly. He was not expecting to make it out. But he was willing to sacrifice himself if it would bring the relic home.

The bright moon flooded the area with an ominous glow. Stefan walked out to the well and pulled water from the bottom. He offered the ladle to drink out of to Quanno. 

“Guests first.” 

Quanno looked warily at the cup. Stefan figured he was trying to figure out the price for sparing his life- if Stefan was willing to. It was a debt to be paid according to the old ways. But he wouldn’t insult Stefan by refusing the drink. Quanno stepped forward and slowly lifted the ladle to his lips.

“Good. It is a long trip back to your leaders and I need you to deliver a message. Prince Aamon Ipos shall be coming with the lady you all attacked tonight. Expect us in one week. If this reasonable young woman and the cowards that attacked her can come to an agreement…”

“Cowards?” The old lion lamented.

“A lone woman grieving for her father is attacked by warriors hiding in the shadows.” Quanno flinched, his cheeks turning red with shame. “A father that those warriors killed. Would you overlook that and meet their demands, if you were her?”

It made Stefan feel a little better to see Quanno flinching with every word. 

“We will bring her mother home and she may forgive you enough to understand the importance of returning your relic. But I hate to think what will happen if you do not treat her mother like royalty. She is to be your esteemed guest.”

“Oh no! A werecat would never dishonor themselves by harming a defenseless hostage.” Quanno assured him quickly.

Stefan remembered a time that werecats wouldn’t hold a hostage. Things had really changed. Quanno glanced towards the forest line, unsure Stefan would really let him go.

“Oh and from now on, tell your people to refer to me as Stefan.” He watched Quanno hesitate. 

He wondered if the stories made Quanno think he would shoot him in the back. Stefan smirked and shrugged. 

“If you would prefer to stay…” He said lifting an arm slowly, pointing a dagger at him. 

Quanno took off at top speed, morphing into his lion form as he hit the tree line. Stefan watched him go before walking back into the house.