Wolf Moon Part 13

Trowa put another log on the fire to stoke the embers. Flames cast wavy patterns of light and shadow on the walls. Sparks swirled in the updraft like fireflies dancing on a warm summer's night.

The Warriors of the Rose lounged around the table and Duo smoked his briarwood pipe as they listened to Quatre's Twilight story.

"I, too, lived in the Whetland Valley but my modest circumstances were opposite of Trowa's affluent lifestyle as a Senator's son. My mother, Angela, worked as a maid for Lord Hartford. I was born in the servant's quarters on his estate.

Unlike Trowa, I didn't know my father. My mother told me he was Quintin Winner, a sailor who was employed by the Trade Winds Export Company. When she told Quintin she was expecting his child, he sailed with the first high tide and never returned.

Lord and Lady Hartford had a daughter, Iria, who was a year older. Since Iria and I were the youngest children we played together and she was like a sister to me.

In appreciation for my kindness to her daughter, Lady Hartford permitted me to go with Iria to a private school set up exclusively for the noblemen's children.

To honor Lady Hartford, I put effort into my lessons and made good marks. Also, to show my gratitude for the learning opportunity, I taught Iria to ride and would sometimes accompany her on the hunt."

A faraway look briefly flickered across Quatre's blue eyes, a hint of sweet childhood remembrances.

"When I was thirteen Iria left to attend boarding school in Sanc. I missed her very much and spoke of stopping my courses but Lady Hartford insisted that I continue.

I was humble concerning my privilege. I never forgot my place, that I still lived in the servant's quarters, but for the next year I excelled in my studies and was pleased to make my mother proud.

However, a few servants were displeased that their children weren't granted the same advantages. Gertrude, with a particularly sour disposition and sharp tongue, worked in the kitchen. Although her son, Tom, was a brat, a bully and a thief she was resentful that Lady Hartford hadn't shown him equal attention.

Gertrude's jealousy was not only aimed at me but my mother as well. She spread demeaning gossip among the household; falsehoods she hoped would be repeated in the Lady's presence. She even started a rumor that I was Lord Hartford's bastard son and the guilt of his infidelity was the reason for his generosity.

Even though I was a bastard, I expressed my anger at the injustice and was determined to tell Lord Hartford about the mean-spirited lies. In response, my mother sat me down and told me something I've never forgotten.

"Don't define yourself by what other people say. If you stay true to your word your strength of character will be a sure defense against maliciousness. A brave heart will always defeat evil because evil can not flourish in the light of truth."

I endured the indignities for many weeks. I ignored the whispers behind my back and the scorn directed at my mother.

One evening as I was returning from the stables, Tom, his friend Johnny and another boy who had more brawn than brains, blocked the path.

"If ya Hartford's bastard then your mum must be his whore." Tom declared.

The other boys snickered.

"Let me pass." I demanded then tried to sidestep the taunting bully.

Tom stood his ground.

Johnny reached to grab my arm. I planted my fist aside his chin. With a yelp he stumbled backward and promptly sat down hard on his ass.

"You damn..." Tom began then finished with a flying fist. I ducked the wild punch but lost my balance and bumped into Tom's dimwitted tagalong.

Strong arms wrapped around from behind like a vice and lifted me until my feet barely touched the ground. Tom stalked forward, a sneer on his lips and malice in his eyes. I struggled but the arms squeezed tighter to crush my ribs and cut off my breath.

Tom stopped, leaned forward then hissed inches from my face. "I'm gonna beat that high-an-mighty attitude out of ya."

Johnny had recovered from my punch but he was still pressing a hand to his jaw when he joined Tom."When he's done thrashin' ya, we're," he nodded at the burly boy who had me in the bear hug, "gonna fuck you then Tom can have his turn."

Thick, black cloudbanks bloomed on the western horizon. Gusty wind shivered the trees. "Looks like rain." I commented cutting my eyes towards the approaching storm.

Tom glanced skyward, "So?"

"Shit melts in the rain."

The insult had the desired effect. Anger took over reason causing Tom to charge headlong, arm cocked back to deliver his promised punishment but he stopped short when my raised boot hit him squarely in the gut.

A whoosh of expelled air caused him to double over. A winded grunt was the only sound as he clutched his stomach.

Next the "bear" shrieked when I bit his arm hard enough to draw blood. He let go and with a string of curses accenting his pain, he stared wide-eyed at the double row of teeth prints marring his flesh."

Duo reared back in his chair and laughed out loud. "Ya plucky for ya size." he commented with a wave of his pipe.

"And resourceful." Wufei added his praise.

"Resourceful, yes and certainly not a coward," Quatre stated. "but I'm no fool. I was outnumbered and withdrawal being the better choice, I ran for the forest bordering the estate.

I could hear Tom shouting over the thunder that had amplified from a distant rumble to a resonant baritone.

"Johnny, go around left. You go right" Tom directed the hunt, "I'll go straight and flush out the milksop rabbit."

"Roots tangled my footings; branches clawed at my face and snagged my hair. Touch was my only guide through the snarled maze of trees.

Lightning that moments before was faint glimmers above the mountains cut the clouds with knives of raw energy and only in those brief flashes was I able to see the path. Finally I reached the outside tree line and stumbled into a clearing circled by dense woods."

Quatre shifted to settled his back against Trowa's chest, to seek comfort in his lover's arm as he related the frightening events.

"I've never been afraid of storms instead they fascinated me. I danced in the rain, I embraced the primitive power but there was an alarming aspect about the weather that night."

The wind howled like a wounded wolf. Lightning seared the sky and kissed the ground causing every nerve to tingle under my skin. Thunder boomed like a cannon's report and shook the earth beneath my feet as if trying to breach the gates of hell and unleashed all the exiled demons at once. But, strangely, no angel's tears were wept from heaven.

There was a blinding flash. In an instant I was enveloped in an iridescent mist that sparkled like fairy dust. I was floating above a pool of azure water that was as smooth as glass.

A voice whispered inside the mist. "Look upon your reflection."

"I could see myself in the water's mirror surface. An aura of pure, white light shimmered around my face and glowed softly on my hair.

In my right hand I held the sun, in my left hand, the moon. A ring of stars encircled my head. As I gazed in amazement, feathery wings unfurled from my shoulders.

The voice spoke again but, this time, an authoritative tone tempered the whisper. "You are the chosen one. I grant you dominion over the seasons, the cycles of the sun and moon. You will share your power with the one who carries the Staff of the Rose and rules the elements of earth, wind and water."

"Are you that person?" I dared to ask.

"No, I am the Priest of Twilight. Your partner in power is my student."

"How can I find Twilight?"

"You have always known the way. Follow your restless heart."

Suddenly I was falling. Wind whistled in my ears as I plunged to earth. Panic seized my mind and threatened to stop my heartbeat then, as if some instinctive force took over, I was gliding...my wings bolstered by the air.

That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up with my mother holding my hand. She told me I had staggered into the servant's quarters, drenched with rain, chilled from exposure and mumbling about finding Twilight before I collapsed in her arms.

Tom, Johnny and the "bear" returned to the estate, soaked, confused and lacking a bit of their sanity. They told a tale of seeing me float, with wings on my shoulders, bathed in white light. Johnny and his friend eventually let the matter go but Tom kept repeating the dubious story and soon went mad because no one believed him.

For three weeks I hovered between life and death. Delirious with fever, I dreamed of a land of breathtaking beauty, a place always peaceful but as hard as I searched, darkness and rocky roadblocks always hindered my path.

Lord Hartford brought in the best doctors but even their skills could not halt death's stalking and they finally conceded that only a miracle would save me.

Despite my mother's refusal to believe that all hope was lost, the village priest was called to administer last rites. Father Patrick sat by my bed, took my hand then trembled from the energy flowing from my fingertips.

"This boy will not die." he declared to the astonishment of everyone assembled in the room.

Lord Hartford's private physician challenged the holy man's assertion concerning my recovery. "He hasn't responded to anything we've done to cure him."

"That's because you treated his body and not his dreams."

"This man is mad." the doctor announced, "Be gone heretic."

"No!" my mother exclaimed, "My son needs a guide. Please show him the way home."

The wise Father reached into his robe and took out two silver Celtic crosses hanging on silver chains that were unlike any carried by a priest.

Vines curled up the staff and flowed in opposite directions on the crosspiece. At the center a circle joined the junction and the ring was etched with a relief of a rose.

Placing one cross on my right palm and one on my left palm, the priest brought my hands together until the crosses touched. A flare of silver light spiked between my fingers and radiated into the room like rays of sunshine.

I drew in a deep breath, expelled it in a slow, steady stream then opened my eyes. "Mother?"

Angela kissed my cheek. "My precious son."

I let each cross dangle from my fingers. "Why two?" I referred to the holy symbols.

"One for you and the other for your equal." the priest replied.

As I regained my strength over two week's time, I dreamed every night but I was no longer lost. On the Summer Solstice I bade my mother farewell, promised to visit from time to time and followed my heart to Twilight.

When I crested the last hill, Zechs Merquise was standing by the path. I knew I was finally where I belonged. As I stepped into the yard, a tall boy dressed in a simple brown robe and trousers, his feet covered with soft shoes, sat on the porch playing a bamboo flute."

"Hello, I'm Trowa."

"I'm Quatre." I said, then offered the second cross.

Trowa closed his hand around my hand so we held his cross together. "Welcome home."

*********

Quatre tilted his head and tenderly gazed up at Trowa with an unmistakable look of love. "I knew without question that Trowa was the person I'd been seeking all my life."

Wufei pulled his cross from under his shirt and twirled the chain between his fingers. "Five crosses, the quinque is complete."

Duo tapped his pipe on the hearth to knock out the ashes then addressed Heero. "You know our stories, how fate set our paths now, Demon Tracker, tell us of your life."

TBC...

 

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