To Pine for Pink Opals

Chapter 7: The Werewolf

Heldon whipped around and bolted out of the carriage, saber drawn. He shoved what just happened between him and Tival to a far corner of his mind and locked it away.

While he wasn't glad that werewolves had ambushed them just outside the city gates, during daytime no less, he was oddly glad that they had been interrupted. He wasn't sure how his desire for Tival had spun out of control so quickly, and it frightened him.

“Help us!" A woman screamed pointing to the top of a roof where a werewolf leaped off, dashing into an alley.

Travelers, merchants, and townspeople scattered, trying to flee somewhere safe.

“How can these werewolves attack during the day?!" Tival squinted due to sun sensitivity and confusion as he too left the carriage. Heldon nodded grimly.

“No idea. It's why we were so desperate for the silver. C'mon, we have to help." Heldon spotted a large werewolf lurking behind one of the palisades. Foam dripped from his jaw, and his eyes glowed an eerie blue.

Werewolves' eyes weren't usually blue, but also some of these werewolves wore torn luxury suits and downs, and even others carried weapons.

Their appearance and behavior didn't make any sense, but he didn't have time to solve mysteries.

“Orders are orders." Tival sounded reluctant to help, and the phrase hit Heldon wrong. Did Tival really just see the safety of him and his people as nothing but an order?

Then he remembered Tival's spear didn't have a steel blade, much less one inlaid with silver like his own saber.

“You can get a silver sword from the chest in the back. I'm going." He charged toward the werewolf he spotted earlier.

Deep down, Heldon still imagined himself a knight like he did when he was little. He still envied that his best friend achieved knighthood and could travel to distant places on adventures. Although realistically knights didn't do much adventuring, Heldon preferred the idea of defending for those in need, over arguing about terms of an agreement.

“Get inside!" Heldon called to some merchants hiding behind their cart as he leaped to intercept the frenzied werewolf bearing down on them.

Heldon whistled to provoke the werewolf, and the werewolf turned his savage maw toward him.

The werewolf's shaggy frame towered to seven feet tall, and his hooked claws could eviscerate a man with one swipe, but that didn't deter him. The bigger they were, the harder they fell.

“C'mon, ugly, over here." Heldon taunted and the werewolf lunged, eyes lolling and mouth snarling. Heldon rolled to the side and slashed a long gash into the werewolf's leg. He was rewarded with a shrill wail of agony.

The resolute werewolf pivoted and struck at Heldon, only catching the tip of his braid. Heldon pivoted and thrust his saber into the werewolf's back.

The wound hissed and the werewolf yelped and retreated into the shadows of the nearby forest. Heldon wasn't going to chase after him, he had to help more peop–

Wait, he didn't see or hear Tival.

Heldon scanned the frantic scene and saw Tival holding off a werewolf with just his wooden spear. How was he strong enough to do that in the daylight? And why didn't he have a silver sword? Taking down a werewolf without one was almost impossible.

Tival whirled his spear around, cracking the werewolf in the snout. Tival wielded his spear like an extension of his own body. Tival fought like a knight, and Heldon almost pictured him in armor,

Until he saw a new werewolf wearing a torn gown, circling behind Tival.

"Tival!" He called out and raced toward them.

Tival flourished his spear and knocked his werewolf off balance but was a hair too late. The circling werewolf charged like a ram. Heldon accelerated into a sprint.

He'd be unable to protect his back!

No.

Heldon dove into a tucked roll and swung his saber up.

The saber sliced through the exposed inner thigh of the werewolf, and she crashed to the ground in a heap. Heldon gasped for air as he lunged to attack the werewolf again. The werewolf growled and it shook Heldon to his bones.

“You're an incredible swordsman, negotiator." Tival praised and Heldon smiled and parried a claw. He wasn't used to getting compliments about his swordplay because growing up he always lost to his best friend.

“You still calling me that?" Heldon asked and Tival took a step back, so their backs pressed up against each other. Heldon could feel his hard muscles through their uniforms.

“You haven't given me permission to use your name!" Tival replied and Heldon heard the smile on his face. He wouldn't give him permission anytime soon either. Together, back-to-back, they faced down the blood frenzied werewolves.

Their attacks synced up like nothing Heldon had ever experienced before. Not even with his best friend or with his younger brother Erik, had he ever flowed so well with someone. If one had an opening, the other would fill it.

They had been fighting for so long the orange sun had dipped into the horizon.

“We still haven't worn them down," Heldon said, panting from exertion. Their werewolves looked as if they were about to rally when Heldon spotted a new wild werewolf cornering an old man and a child near a tree.

"Tival, we have to –" Heldon's werewolf used the distraction and lunged, saliva foaming, claws slicing.

A green light flared from Tival's spear as he plunged the wooden end into the dirt. The ground quaked as roots from the nearby trees sprung up from the dirt, ensnaring and spearing the two werewolves in place. They thrashed and growled, but the roots constricted them tight.

Tival could use dryad magic! What couldn't he do?

"Give me a second, that...was taxing." Tival leaned heavily on his spear, chest heaving.

Heldon nodded and ran to save the people.

As he approached, a large werewolf with cinnamon-colored fur tackled the werewolf off the old man. The cinnamon werewolf looked female, and her eyes weren't blue, but a deep brown. She attacked with patience and intent, not wildly thrashing around like the ones they had been fighting.

But the female werewolf was still smaller than the feral one, so he tackled her.

Heldon didn't have time to say anything as he slashed down the back of the crazed werewolf. He howled back, hissing from the silver, and ran off. The old man and the child, understandably terrified, fled to the road.

The female werewolf began to transform back into her human form. Like most werewolves, her short hair matched her cinnamon fur along with her dark brown eyes. Her human form was significantly smaller than her werewolf form. She also looked a little younger than Heldon, maybe in her late teens.

"I didn't need the help, but you smell nice, and I don't think you're shapeshifters, so I'll thank you anyway. I'm Shrai," she grinned, showing her canines. It relieved him like a summer breeze to know that not all the werewolves had gone crazy.

“You saved those two people. I should thank you. I'm Heldon, a jawforcer negotiator...." he paused, unsure how he should introduce Tival who was walking up now. The other two trapped werewolves were nowhere in sight. The exposed roots were gone too.

“...and this is Tival, my envoy from Opalgate." Heldon gestured. She examined Tival with a stiff posture and stood on the balls of her feet as if she wanted to bolt.

She eyed Tival, sniffing.

“You don't smell like an Opalgate vampire. You smell like nature. Well, you both smell like that." She said, and Heldon was pretty sure he smelled more like sweat than anything. Her hands in fists by her sides as if trying to calm her instincts.

The mutual hatred between werewolves and vampires stood the test of time.

“I'm not really one of them. In fact, because of an incident, I'm banished until my orders are complete." Tival fluidly put the spear through the holder on his back. His own sister banished him for killing that Steelpoint vampire?

He knew that Tival had orders to be here with him, but Heldon hadn't thought that Tival literally had no other place he could go.

Tival was less with him because he wanted to be, and moreso trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

“Huh. Well, my werewolf instincts tell me you're both trustworthy, which is the only reason I'm even talking to a magical human and a…not quite vampire who's using a wooden spear to fight werewolves." The fit female lowered her ears as if they as a pair didn't make any sense.

"Yeah, Tival, why didn't you get a silver weapon?" Heldon asked, suddenly interested.

“I'm half Dryad, metal is a big weakness. We can't use metal weapons or wear metal armor. So, sorry I can't be your knight in shining armor." Tival winked in jest and while it was meant to be lighthearted, it landed jagged and bitter. Heldon didn't want a knight in shining armor, and it also made his chest tighten that Tival may think he needed one.

It explained why that vampire's steel sword burned Tival.

“I can handle small things like a certain negotiator's gold earring." Tival continued, holding out his second gold earring. Heldon flushed and it wasn't from the cardio. They had gotten rather distracted from putting the second one in. He put it in, still blushing.

“Thaaaat explains why you both smell like the forest." The Shrai''s eyes flashed in amusement. "So, I got information about these werewolves and why they're attacking. Follow me to the Muddy Moose tavern and we can talk about it there." Shrai motioned down the street with her head. Heldon couldn't place the name.

“A lead? We're in. Lead the way, Shrai." Tival answered, his tone warm with excitement. Heldon's interests were piqued too, but he thought for a different reason than Tival's.

Heldon hoped what she had to say would help save Kalent, but he feared after that, Tival would walk out of his world all over again.