Return to Lynwood, Chapter 13

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Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

It was a couple of hours after lunch on the third day that they found the ruins. The landscape had become more and more familiar to Isengrim these past few kilometres—this was land that he had not only traversed before, but had once roamed regularly. Even individual trees were familiar now. There was the thick old pine with the knots like a twisted face in its trunk. Here was the oak where he and his packmates found gold buried under the roots. The memories came flooding back to him. A look around at the other Werelupes’ faces told him they were experiencing the same thing.

Through the mist, Isengrim could see a number of immense fallen conifers, moss-covered and long stripped of their needles, stretching toward the approaching company like the spears of a hostile guard.

One of the Werelupes drew a sharp breath. “We’re close now,” she whispered. “Those are the trees that toppled when the keep fell on them.” Her packmates nodded.

“Let’s keep going,” Isengrim said. Now back on foot, he led them through the blockade, beneath rotting trunks that sat propped on the remnants of undergrowth where they landed nearly fifteen years before.

 

Things decayed slowly in the Haunted Woods. There was something in the air that made everything old and liked to keep it that way. Trees were old, ruins were old, ghosts were old, and all seemed to linger far longer than they did elsewhere. Even Isengrim had lost track of how many years he had spent living here. Then again, he supposed he had never started keeping track in the first place.

Before them, chunks of stone littered the ground. Although splotched with moss and lichen, the granite looked angular and cloven, different from the natural shape and colour of the native rock. As the party kept moving toward the base of the fallen trees, the chunks grew larger and more intact, until many of them were large, skillfully-hewn blocks with bits of mortar still sticking to them.

Then the trees ended. Isengrim took a breath. “Well,” he said, “here we are.”

Admittedly, the sight before them could no longer be recognised as a keep. At the base of a rocky cliff sprawled a disheveled mass of stone blocks, tumbled atop each other like a careless child’s toys. A good portion of the cliff had come with it, mingling sharp dark rock with the masonry. Everything was overgrown, and a heavy mist hung over it all so that objects even a few paces away started to fade into grey.

Isengrim swallowed hard. This was home, once. It had been home for a very long time. And then one night changed everything. He looked over at the human and the Draik on the Ganuthor. On that night, his fate had become forever intertwined with theirs.

“Wow…” Terra said. “There’s… not much left.” She looked up towards the top of the cliff, where the keep used to sit, but it was obscured by mist.

“Well, we took near everything that wasn’t stone,” Suhel said. “At least, we thought we did.”

Pharazon leaned forward, his ears spread wide. “Oh yes, it’s definitely here,” he said. “I’m sensing a very powerful magical signature.” He winced. “Oof… its energy’s all over the place, like crazy. I know it’s still here, but it’ll be hard to pinpoint.”

One of the knots in Isengrim’s stomach loosened. “Not a problem,” he said. “Start searching!” he barked, gesturing to the ruins. “Leave no block unturned! That staff is here somewhere!”

“Yes, sire!” one of his thanes said. The Werelupes scrambled for the stones.

“Oh, I want to help!” Lexora said, letting herself down from Gwyneth. “Perhaps I’ll find a souvenir for the children!”

Suhel stayed by her side as the two began to sift through rocks. “Doubtful,” the female Werelupe said, “but if we do find anything beside the staff, you’re welcome to keep it.”

“Oh, it’s a staff, is it?” Lexora asked, tossing a pebble away. “Jolly good of you to be more specific about what we’re looking for. I was afraid I might miss it.”

Pharazon fluttered his wings. “Hey—wait up! Remember, if you find the staff, don’t touch it! Let me handle it!”

As he flew off to assist, Terra dismounted from Gwyneth and looked down at Connor. “Do you want to help?” she asked.

The boy shrugged and stayed by the Ganuthor. “I’m not sure what I could do to help,” he muttered. “I’d likely just get in the way with me big clumsy paws.”

Isengrim found that Connor’s moping did not matter so much to him right now. His throat tightened as he moved toward the ruins slowly, like this was all a dream. He used to have dreams that he was back in his keep, and then he would wake up and see only the hard ground beneath him and a long road with an uncertain destination ahead for his pack. Finding the Burrows had been an immense boon—but this fortress had certainly been nothing to sneeze at, either.

Dimly he thought he should help with the excavations, but right now he was lost in his memories. He moved to a pile of blocks and pressed his paw against the rough, cold stone as though he could absorb from it more nights spent singing and laughing in the great hall, more banners snapping defiantly in the night wind, more views of his domain from the parapets. His own memories did not seem like enough.

“I’m sorry,” Terra said from behind him.

He turned to see her standing at a distance, suddenly looking very alone and unsure like a lost child. Much the same as when he had first met her, on the night this place fell. He sighed. “It was not your fault. And I know Blynn was not meaning to bring the whole thing down, even if we were enemies at the time. She did not yet understand the properties of that magic slingshot.”

“I know,” Terra said, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. “But I think this castle meant a lot to you.”

“It did,” Isengrim said, curling his fingers against the stone until his claws scratched into it. “But all that is in the past now. We have a very nice life in the Burrows, with more territory and riches than we accrued here.” Not that that could erase his time here, but he didn’t want his owner feeling bad about it.

But that did not seem to be the only thing bothering her. He could smell her unease. Pushing away from the stone, he turned to her. “Are you all right? What is on your mind?”

She bit her lip. “I’m—I don’t have good memories of here,” she said. Her gaze was downcast and her voice shaky. “I’m glad you and the other Werelupes remember it fondly, but—it was scary for me.” She held out a hand as though the emotion swirled in the mist about them. “There’s still so much fear here… it’s a sad place. Like the town with no name, but worse, because I was scared here, too—“ Her shoulders hunched and her lips tightened.

“Terra…” Isengrim knelt down and wrapped her in a hug. “I am so sorry for insisting that you adopt me and keeping you here against your will. Believe me, if I could go back I would do things differently. I was not my best self then. I am ashamed of who I was.” His own shoulders shook. “I don’t deserve to be your Neopet.”

“No—no, don’t say that,” Terra said, hugging him back. “The important part is that you wanted to change, and you did. Look at how much good came out of that.” She pulled away, took off her glasses to wipe her tears on her sleeve, and gestured to the others, who were still combing through the rocks. “Look at everything you’ve done to help them. Because of you, Werelupes have a home. Lexora and Suhel know about their curse and are trying to break it—and I think they’ve become great friends, besides.”

She turned to the Werelupe pup who was still standing by Gwyneth, watching them awkwardly. “And you saved Connor from that maniac,” Terra said. “What happened here in the past was hard at the time… but you’ve more than made up for it. Who you are now matters more than who you used to be.”

“I will never stop making up for it,” Isengrim said, using his paw pads to wipe away the rest of her tears. He was glad Terra forgave him, but he did not think he could ever forgive himself. “I cannot possibly hope to ever fully compensate you for the trouble I put your—our family through.”

Terra shook her head. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up about this. We can put the past behind us now.”

Isengrim sniffed the air. “You’re still afraid.”

His owner drooped. “I know…” Scrunching her face, she said, “I wish I could focus on the good like I did back in the abandoned town… but it’s harder when I was actually involved in events here. My own emotions are getting in the way.”

“I’m sorry,” Isengrim said again. “It pains me to see you so upset. Should we leave? Never mind the staff, you’re clearly distressed.”

Terra shook her head. “No, that thing is dangerous and we need to find it. I’ll manage.”

Isengrim closed his eyes, trying to think of some way to help her. “Don’t let this become a sad place for you,” he said. “Don’t let it defeat you like that. Let’s… let’s focus on making some new, better memories here. You’re very good at that.” He moved closer to one of the intact blocks. “Look, feel this moss,” he said, putting a palm to the vivid green carpet of tiny plants. “It’s so soft and velvety, like a Whinny’s nose.”

A smile cracked Terra’s face as she ran her fingertips over the moss. “Yeah… it is. How nice.”

“What is all this, anyway?” Connor asked. He had moved closer to them and was absently scratching at the moss on another stone.

Isengrim put an arm around Terra’s shoulders. “This,” he said, “is the ruins of Werelupe Keep. It was my home base in the Haunted Woods for many years, until it was destroyed by… an unfortunate incident.”

“And what would that be?” Connor asked.

“Magic slingshot,” Terra said. She looked up at Isengrim. “I’m really surprised you survived that, actually.”

“Yes, well, Werelupes are every bit as hardy as we look,” he said. He puffed out his chest and tried to seem proud, but his heart just wasn’t in it right now.

“What did you do with those faerie weapons you pulled from Hyren?” Terra asked.

Isengrim folded his paws behind his back. “Those survived the fall too, as I’m sure you can imagine. But I did not want anything fae to stink up my hoard, so I sold them once we had settled down in the Burrows. Of course, each one was worth a fortune, so I amassed several kingdoms’ worth of treasure out of those.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “You know, I could have sworn we have had this conversation before.”

“We have?” Terra asked.

The Werelupe thought a moment. “Yes, I think it was when I first showed you my hoard.”

“Okay, I thought things sounded a little familiar,” Terra said. “But to be fair, back then I was under some… stress. So you’ll have to forgive me for forgetting.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Isengrim said, patting her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Terra said. “I’m just glad everything worked out. What about… that big, four-armed guy who fought Hyren? Did he come to the Burrows with you?”

Isengrim nodded, but then paused and frowned, caught in another unpleasant memory. “Gnarfas… we called him Gnarfas because he could not tell us what he called himself. He was what happens when a Werelupe lets in too much of the wild. Which only happens if you want it to, I assure you,” he said to Connor whose ears had turned down.

“Anyhow,” Isengrim said, “yes, Gnarfas survived as well. He journeyed with us to Meridell, and for a while it seemed as though we were actually making progress with him. I got him to the point where he could at least understand my orders and didn’t attack on sight.” He sighed. “When I looked into his eyes… I think I could see a great intelligence there, fighting to get back out.”

“You keep using the past tense,” Connor said. “What happened to him?”

“He was slain,” Isengrim said, “by a knight from Meridell, when we allied with the Darkest Faerie.” His crimson eyes bored into the mist as though the scene was being played out there.

“I’m so sorry,” Terra said.

Isengrim gave her shoulders a squeeze. “What is done, is done. I suppose it is the price I paid for my unwise alliance. We mourned his loss and honoured him as a true Werelupe warrior, and I am comforted by knowing that for a while, we gave him sanctuary rather than leaving him to the mercies of the world. His last years were as comfortable as we could make them.”

He looked away to find Connor staring at him, the young Werelupe’s golden eyes large and round. “Why did you ally with the Darkest Faerie?” the pup asked.

Isengrim frowned. That was a decision he did not really like to remember. “Because it seemed like the best option at the time,” he replied honestly. “She was poised to take over the Meridell region, and neither of the kingdoms there liked Werelupes to begin with. We had already made a mortal enemy out of Illusen by attempting to take her glade. As much as I hate faeries, I rather liked the idea of one of them wiping out our foes. Not to mention if I had refused, she would have turned her forces on my pack, and we could not have withstood an attack of that magnitude.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “Although I admit that dislike of Meridell and Brightvale was my main motivation.”

Connor searched his face and scowled. “So you are just a bunch o’ uncivilised brutes who try to take what you please! And I suppose your precious Burrows are just caves full o’ bones and furs where you sit around roastin’ meat and talkin’ about your hunts!”

“Well… essentially, yes, they are,” Isengrim said. “But we don’t—“

“And you expect me to live there!” Connor growled.

“You make it sound like a bad thing!” Isengrim said. He was trying hard to remain patient with the boy, but Connor really did have a way of pushing the worst buttons. The Werelupe King’s hackles rose and he fought to keep calm.

Connor bared his fangs. “I’m not goin’ to live like a Tyrannian! You—you say you want to help me, but you’re just as bad as Vakhtang, forcin’ me into a life I don’t want!”

Isengrim rankled. His entire culture had just been insulted and now Connor was comparing him to a disagreeable sociopath. He felt the rumblings of a growl in his throat.

He clenched his eyes shut. Being hated simply because of what he was hurt him deeper than the wound he had received in Barrowmere, but he knew returning the anger and hate would just make things worse. Terra had taught him that. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again. “Connor,” he said as calmly as he could muster but still sounding quite terse, “go help with excavations. Please. I need some time alone.”

“Fine,” Connor snarled. He whipped away from the Werelupe King and scampered through the field of blocks, stopping to rake his claws across stone with a frustrated shout that made the others stop and turn their heads. Shoulders heaving, the boy clambered atop a pile of blocks and perched on the top, wrapping his arms around his knees and ducking his head.

Isengrim massaged his sinuses. “I’m sorry, Terra. I don’t know how I could have handled that better.”

“You did fine,” Terra said. “You can’t act like nothing’s the matter—he really offended you and he needs to know that’s not okay.” She stared up at the young Werelupe for a moment. “I could go talk to him. He hasn’t seemed to find anything wrong with me yet.”

“Do you really want to take that chance?” Isengrim asked with a bit of a smirk. It faded and he lifted his paw to examine his claws. “Perhaps he’s right… perhaps I am like Vakhtang.”

Terra grabbed his paw in both her hands and looked up at him fiercely. “You’re not,” she said. “I promise you’re not. Don’t ever think that. You’re Isengrim, the true Werelupe King. You do what you do out of concern for others and a desire to create a safe haven for all who need it. It’s Connor who’s looking at all of this the wrong way.”

Slowly, Isengrim smiled. If there was anyone he could trust right now, it was his owner. “Thank you, Terra,” he said, giving her hands a squeeze. “I won’t betray your high opinion of me. I swear it.”

“I know you won’t,” Terra said. “That’s part of why I like you so much.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’m going to try talking to him. It can’t possibly get any worse.”

Isengrim let her hands slip away as he watched her go. “Good luck,” he said. Somewhat numbly, he moved to the nearest block and began to lift it. He hefted the heavy stone enough to see that there was nothing beneath it but Petpetpets scurrying into the soil, and then set it back down with a dull thud as it hit the damp earth. But he found he could not really concentrate on looking for his missing artefact, so instead he propped an elbow against the block and watched his owner, silently wishing her well in her mission.

Terra’s human legs could not carry her up the pile as fast as Connor’s, but eventually she clambered to the top of the stone pile and sat down beside him. “Hey,” she said, kicking her heels against the stone. “I’m sorry you’re upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

He took the bait and lifted his head. Isengrim guessed it was still easier for Connor to talk to non-Werelupes. “Me life’s awful right now,” the pup said. “I just don’t understand why this had to happen to me. I never did anythin’ wrong. But now I’m a Werelupe and I can’t ever turn back.”

“I’m really sorry,” Terra said. “Life can be excruciating when things don’t go our way.”

He frowned and huddled into himself again. “But this is somethin’ really bad. Like, life-changin’ bad. I’ll bet you’ve never been through anythin’ like this.”

Terra was silent for a moment. She looked over at Isengrim. His ears perked and he offered her an encouraging smile, which she returned before looking back to Connor. “Did you know Isengrim kidnapped me twice?” she asked.

The boy looked over at the Werelupe King, who waved casually. Connor’s golden eyes returned to the human sitting next to him, scanning her in confusion. “How did you escape?” he asked.

“Well, the first time…” Terra motioned to the mess of stone below them. “This is what happened the first time. But the second time, I didn’t escape.”

“I’m not followin’,” Connor said.

Terra looked out at the deep forest around them. “When it happened the second time, it was a pretty stressful experience. My Neopets were far away—except for one who was not very helpful.” She glanced over to where Pharazon was watching the others carefully dismantle a hill of rubble. “I had to navigate the situation all by myself—and I didn’t have a guarantee it would work out.”

“But how did you get away from Isengrim?” Connor asked.

“Well, that’s what I’m saying,” Terra said. “I didn’t. I found a better solution.” At nothing but a confused stare from Connor, she said, “When something upsetting happens, I’ve found it doesn’t really do much good to just sit there and focus on how bad everything is and how much you hate it. Rather, I like to focus on who I can help and what I have the power to change. I try to see things from other angles. And I’ve found that situations that look horrible on the outside are actually full of learning experiences, and ways we can use our strengths to help others.” She glanced over at Isengrim again.

The Werelupe King nodded, and began making his way over to them, a bit tired of merely eavesdropping. The story she was telling was as much his as it was hers.

“So what did you do?” Connor asked.

As Isengrim started to climb the rock pile, being sure not to work his wounded leg too hard, Terra said, “I befriended the Werelupe King. I helped him see why some of his approaches to life weren’t working, and taught him better ones. I listened to why he was hurting and gave him the understanding he was yearning for. He quickly came to see his mistakes and made up for them.” She smiled down at him. “And now I have a wonderful fourth Neopet who is a great member of our family, and a benevolent king to his subjects.”

Connor tilted his head to look down her muzzle at her, a bit condescendingly. “Let me guess, you’re sayin’ I should just go up to Vakhtang and ask to be friends with him? That I should endure his bullyin’ because someday he might change?”

Terra shook her head. “No, I’m not saying that at all. If I was in your position, I’d get away from Vakhtang and stay away, too. The difference in my situation was that Isengrim actually wanted to change. He listened to me when I called him out on stuff, and he actually made an effort to get things right. I could tell he was being sincere. Vakhtang, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to want to hear from anyone but himself—you saw how he acted back there.”

She rested her chin in her hand. “Of course I’m not saying to keep yourself in harm’s way… but explore your options. Sometimes, a situation isn’t as bad as it first looks. And it’s never the right solution to work yourself up about it until you view everything with anger and hatred.”

Her eyes wandered over to where her Draik was still overseeing the others’ excavation efforts. The Werelupes and Lexora had cleared away nearly all of the blocks from their pile, and were now on the last few layers of stone. “Just ask Pharazon what happens when you do that,” the owner said. “It isn’t pretty.”

“And to be fair,” Isengrim said, hoisting himself onto the block they sat on, “I was not nearly so bad as Vakhtang. He is ill-tempered and cruel and treats even his own packmates with disrespect.” The Werelupe King folded his legs and sat back. “I should like to think I conducted myself better than that.”

“Yes, what you did was out of xenophobia and trust issues,” Terra said. “Easily fixed.” She looked back to Connor. “At any rate, I don’t think this is entirely about Vakhtang, is it?”

The boy Werelupe sized her up for a moment and then shook his head. “No… it’s not. Don’t get me wrong, he still scares me silly, but…” He buried his face in his oversized paw. “I wanted to be a great scientist. I wanted to spend me life experimentin’ with chemistry. Now… I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Terra asked.

“Because Werelupes are barbarians!” Connor snarled. He gestured to Isengrim. “Look at them—they live in caves and wear skins and bones!”

Isengrim regarded him calmly. He knew what Terra was doing. “And how,” he asked, “would that preclude you from being a chemist?”

“Because—“ Connor grimaced. This was where his line of logic had ended. “Because… you don’t do anythin’ scientific?”

Isengrim had to bite his tongue to suppress a smile. “For a scientist,” he said quietly, “you make quite a lot of assumptions for which you have no evidence. My pack and I have little interest in scholarly endeavours, it is true. But that does not mean we would not welcome a scholar in our midst, or accommodate him in his interests and skills. We have a sorceress friend who stays at the Burrows often—she has her own grotto for use as a magical study. We could surely find the space for a chemist’s laboratory in those vast cavern networks.”

Connor’s expression softened. “You—you’d do that for me?”

Remembering the look of horror on the boy’s face when his father said he’d dismantled Connor’s workshop, Isengrim nodded. “Of course. Your dreams are noble ones, and I would like to see what you can make of them.”

The Werelupe pup was silent for a moment. Then, he asked, “But what about this body?” He held up his paws, splaying his thick fingers. “It’s not a scholar’s body. I’ve become a brute.”

“A body is what you make of it,” Isengrim said. He pointed to Connor’s head. “You are still the same person, in your mind and in your heart. Having a different body will not change that.” He paused. “If anything, I would say your new body could come in handy. You said you used to have a weak constitution. Look at how long and far you have walked, on your own, easily keeping pace with the rest of us. You are stronger, and faster. Those physical abilities will certainly not hinder you in your research.”

Connor examined one of his paws, curling his fingers to look at his claws. “I… suppose I never thought of it that way.”

“You can be smart and strong,” Terra said. “Isengrim’s very smart. He knows how to read, and in Meridell, that’s saying a lot.”

Connor snorted. “But he looks like a Tyrannian.”

“Perhaps I like dressing this way,” Isengrim said with a smirk. “Look here, Connor. I have been observing you since I met you. You are an intelligent boy with a good amount of book learning, but you tend to jump to conclusions, and you often say and do things without considering how they might affect others. I think if you want to be a truly great scientist, it would do you well to learn to control those impulses now, while you are young.”

The younger Werelupe turned his gaze to the ground far below them. “I can understand the leapin’ to conclusions thing… but what does considerin’ others have to do with bein’ a scientist?”

“Because not even scientists can avoid being alive,” Isengrim said. “And to live is to live with others. You may want to spend all of your time in the laboratory, but you are still someone’s son, someone’s neighbor, someone’s packmate.”

To this Connor had no reply. Instead, he sat and looked out at the woods, but Isengrim could practically see the gears turning behind the boy’s eyes. The Werelupe King looked over at Terra, who flashed him a thumbs-up. He returned it.

Finally, Connor looked at him and said, “I suppose so. I… thanks for rescuin’ me, Mister Isengrim. I did judge you and your Werelupes too quickly… and I’m sorry.” He looked at Isengrim’s leg and cringed. “And I’m so sorry you got hurt defendin’ me. If I hadn’t been so stupid—“ He shook his head. “And I just spent all this time bein’ angry with you, not even botherin’ to see if you were all right…”

“All is forgiven,” Isengrim said. “I’m just glad you’re doing better.” He tapped two of his claws together. “So… will you consider journeying with us back to the Burrows after this? Not permanently, if you don’t want, but I want to make sure you are safe and comfortable until your parents come around and Vakhtang’s threat is neutralised.”

Connor frowned slightly, but nodded. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Maybe only temporarily.” He squared his shoulders. “But I still don’t quite like bein’ a Werelupe. It’s just not settin’ right. There’s got to be a way to turn back.”

Isengrim did not know what to say, and from the looks of it neither did Terra. If there was a cure, Isengrim thought it should have long been discovered by now. Then again, it wasn’t like he or most of his pack ever tried very hard to find one. They hadn’t really tried at all.

“We found it!” someone shouted, making Isengrim’s and Connor’s ears perk.

They and Terra whipped around to look over at the excavation crew. Five Werelupes propped up an enormous stone block, while the others looked on. Even through the mist, Isengrim could see something elongated and dark lying in the dirt.

He and Connor started down the rock pile. Connor bounded across the blocks with ease, and Isengrim was about to as well, but he remembered his wound just in time and took it slower. Still, even favouring one leg, he could clamber down the stone quite quickly.

“Augh—wait up!” Terra said, having to take the descent one block at a time.

The two Werelupes stopped. “Sorry!” Connor said, clinging to the edge of one block to wait for her.

Isengrim smiled. He had a feeling that the boy just needed to sit down with people who cared, get out his feelings, and receive some honest advice, and then they would start to see results. He just felt bad it had taken so long to figure out the right approach. But once again, his owner had come through for them.

Pushing off from the stone, Isengrim scrambled back up to her and picked her up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I forget you are not a Werelupe.”

Terra laughed and rubbed a hand on her pale cheek. “I didn’t know I was that furry.”

“Well, not like that,” Isengrim said with a chuckle. “Connor! Let’s go!” With his owner safely in his arms, he and Connor reached the ground, their paws sinking into the soft earth as they hurried to the others and their find.

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