Somewhere in the Mist

Cassian

I detest training in human form. The scratchy, thick tunic beneath my armor barely holds its shape and does little to abate the chafing from the heavy metal plating. Swords and shields feel foreign in my arms, though I wield them with ease from years of training.

I would much rather feel the grip of my teeth as they bear down on my enemy’s neck.

But Phelan favors the old ways, a time when wolf shifters fought for—and won—control of all the lands. That was the time when wars meant lines of soldiers in glistening armor, their swords and shields falling with a clank against those of the enemy. It was a time when we fought as human as a nod to our past—when we were human.

No one remembers the first child born with the ability to shift, nor does anyone remember how it occurred. Those days are lost in the mist of cold, ancient memories. Now, we train in human form because some of the elders think it makes us stronger.

I beg to differ.

Phelan approaches, his smile wide against the tanned, leather-like texture of his skin. Somehow, my father’s best friend has found such peace in his old age that smiles come easier than the grimace of a warrior, though deep furrows are still burned into his forehead. “The warriors have done well today,” he says.

“Then we should stop this foolishness and spar as wolves,” I suggest.

His smile just gets broader. “I’ve no objection, so long as they also practice handling weapons. You young people don’t realize it, but it’s a useful skill.”

“For one without fangs, maybe.” I ignore his chuckle in response and address the warriors. “That is all for today.”

They show me the sign of respect, and I watch them clear out from the training grounds in an organized fashion. I turn back to Phelan when the last warriors have stepped away. “Has there been any more word on Assanan’s movements?”

“No.” His easy smile fades. “Most likely, he is recovering from his last battle from the east, restoring his ranks.”

“But you have no doubt he’ll strike here next,” I finish for him.

“No doubt,” he confirms.

For a second, I see the flame of anger in his eyes that erupts, despite his normally peaceful manner, whenever he speaks of the man who killed my father. He and my father, the Sea-King Alpha Hedroin, had known each other since childhood, just like Turgan and myself. “We’ll take him down,” I assure him.

Phelan nods lightly, and the flames extinguish in his eyes. Instead, they brighten with another thought, one I’d rather he keep to himself.

“What of the human girl?” he asks.

I feel my chest tighten. What is it with these elders that they continue to insist I marry some human princess? Or marry at all? “What of her?” I reply.

He chuckles again, and my blood comes to a mild simmer. If it were anyone other than my father’s Beta, he’d be flat on the ground already. But my respect for him as a man and a leader outweighs my anger. When my father fell, he stepped in as a guide and mentor to me as best he could.

“Dyanne says she’s bringing her up from the dungeon today,” he says.

“My mother is persistent, and this is her choice alone,” I explain. “Healer Elara suggested I appease her wishes to avoid further attacks. My mother is not well.”

He exhales softly. “She has been through so much. It’s the worst thing, to lose a true mate.”

“And this is why I don’t understand why so many of you insist I marry this human,” I tell him. “Suppose I find my true mate when I have already begot children with this woman? How could I ever reconcile this?”

“Perhaps this is why your mother insists on it,” he says quietly.

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

He pats my shoulder again, a habit of his when he is in a fatherly mood with me. “Perhaps she feels its best you never experience the pain of losing a true mate, and—”

“And she knows the human would not be her,” I finish for him.

“Precisely.”

“And you, Phelon?” I ask. “What is it you feel is best for me?”

His lips rise once again, and he gestures for me to sit on a nearby bench. We settle in, watching the clouds sail past against the deep azure sky.

“Your father always looked to the clouds,” he begins finally, breaking the silence. “We were young, so much younger than you are today, just boys, really.” His eyes turn distant. “He said his grandfather told him that all the ancestors of the ages are right there in the clouds. When they pass, that means they’re checking up on you, to see how you’re doing. When they’re not there, it means they know all is well.”

“He told me the same,” I explain, a sigh escaping me. “But I didn’t believe him.” I turn to meet Phelon’s gaze. “Do you?”

He shrugs and looks up again. “I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s a fine idea. So, I believe your father comes to us the same way, just checking in.”

It wouldn’t be a bad thing if that were the case. I look up a thick, billowing cloud just above us.

“I think he would want me to give you this advice,” he continues. “If there is a true mate for you out there, you should do all you can to find her.”

I gaze back at him, furrowing my brow. “Strange advice, coming from a confirmed bachelor.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never said I didn’t try to find my own.”

“I’m sorry.” Guilt chews at me. I always wondered why the Goddess didn’t bless such a kind, dutiful man with a mate.

“No reason to be sorry, Cassian,” he insists. “My life has gone well enough. But I’ll never forget the day your father found Dyanne. I’d never seen such happiness in his eyes.” He turns to me. “I don’t think he would want you to be denied such joy. I don’t think your mother does, either. She is just lost in her own sadness right now.”

I nod, knowing it’s true. Father always told me I should find the one, that I shouldn’t settle for anyone who isn’t a true mate.

“Anyway,” he slaps his knees and stands. “This hard bench is no place for an old man with a withered back. Perhaps I’ll go find some breakfast leftovers from the cook. Are you coming along?”

I shake my head. “No, I think I’ll sit here for a while.”

He pats my shoulder once again. “We’ll talk later, then.”

“Yes,” I say.

I watch him walk away, a slight limp in his step now that his back is in pain again. Once alone, I look up at the cloud, which has lingered despite others having passed over and moved on.

“I’ll wait for the one,” I say out loud, hoping that somewhere in the mist, my father hears me. “There’s no way I’m marrying a human girl when there’s someone out there you and the Moon Goddess want me to meet.”