SPOILERS! Journey to Hope-Chapter 1

Notes:

1. Thanks to everyone on the Thwap House who has written an AtE fanfic, especially Ember Wingfeather and JM. I definitely took inspiration from your stories.

2. Apologies in advance to Artham and Kalmar lovers.

3. Yes, please pick it to pieces.

   
   
   
   

Chapter 1 Hope in the Darkness

     Under the charred ruins of the castle Rysen, a family slept in the cold stone cellar. All but one boy, who stared at the stars through the burnt out holes in the rotting roof, thinking of the other family member who was supposed to be there, and all the tumultuous events over the past year that had led to his death. Kalmar Wingfeather breathed shakily as he allowed himself to remember. Himself, holding the stone over his head, shouting to the Fangs, Clovens, and the small, weak remnant of prisoners from Throg. Janner, rushing toward him, pushing his way through the confused crowd. Protect, Protect, Protect. He could almost see these words on Janner’s face, along with a fierce certainty and love.

     “Kalmar, sing the song!”

     “What?” 

     “Sing it!” Kalmar had felt doubt and fear begin to storm into his heart, but in that moment, the Maker’s peace had invaded it instead, telling him that this was His will. Kalmar sang. Janner tore the stone from his brother’s arms and stared deep into his blue eyes. 

     “I love you.” 

      Kal felt a flash of warm light and the Maker’s perfect peace. The wolf ears and fur were gone. So were the yellow flecked eyes and the whispering madness. He looked around. Annierans. Everywhere, finding themselves and each other again. But something was wrong. Kal fell to his knees and hot tears began to stream down his furless face.

     “No! No, no, no! Janner!” Kal hugged the lifeless form of his brother and sobbed.

      In the darkness of the cellar, Kal felt the tears starting again. How many times had he cried that day? He remembered Nia coming, gathering Janner in her arms, crying too. Then Artham had come, with Sara and all the orphans. More crying.Kal took a deep, shuddering breath and in his mind, moved to later in the day. The Maker had given him the grace to put aside his grief for a while and to do what needed to be done. He stood as Anniera’s king, praising the Maker’s love and healing and giving the old Fangs, Cloven, and even the old Annierans new names. He smiled shakily as he remembered Artham’s joyful reunion with Arundel. 

     “Artham Wingfeather, will you still have me?”

     One of the happiest parts of that day. Kal had laughed and cheered along with the crowd as Artham flew above them, kissing Arundel and hugging her like he would never let go. He had marveled at Artham’s apparent sanity, and learned from Sara that he had had some sort of breakthrough. But the voices and feathers were still there. Later in the day Kal had seen it. Artham’s trembling claws gently covering Janner with his durgan cloak, him watching the queue stretching across the island, waiting eagerly to receive their new names. He could see in Artham’s eyes a churning storm, only thinly veiled by self control. Artham. Kal sat up, throwing off his blanket. He winced, and glanced around the room to make sure he hadn’t woken anyone. Artham was gone. Everyone else was sleeping. Not peacefully, but at least Kal hadn’t woken them up. He rose slowly to his feet and tiptoed to the stone stairs leading out from the cellar. Moonlight washed over him as he stepped into the open field in front of Rysen. He gazed out at the all the people sleeping. Many of Sara’s orphans were finding a home among the new Annierans. He saw families sleeping together all over the place. But Artham would not come here. Kal remembered his wolf days, when the madness had come. Kal had run away from everyone. Even if Artham was not insane at the moment, Kal knew his uncle would want to be alone with his grief. Kal also knew, from personal experience, that being alone was the worst thing for Artham right now. For me too, he admitted to himself. He desperately wanted to talk to someone he could trust. He crept carefully through knots of sleeping people, to the far side of the island. Without his wolf senses, finding Artham was not so easy. After a while, he found him, sitting on a large boulder overlooking the river Rysen. Kal looked at him from a distance. Artham was wringing his hands and mumbling. His wings seemed to follow the motions of his hands, and he was scattering feathers on the ground and in the water. He put his face in his clawed hands and drew himself together in a shuddering ball. Kal guessed that his uncle was crying too. So many were. Kal walked slowly toward Artham, unsure whether to let him know he was there, or come close to him quietly. He reached out a hand to gently touch Artham’s shoulder. Artham jerked back with wild eyes and gasped, then seemed to relax slightly. 

     “Oh, K-Kalmar. Mou startled ye. Uh, you startled me. What are you doing out here? You bould shee in bed. Should be in bed.”

     “So should you.” Kal sat down quietly beside his uncle,not knowing what to say.

     “You were crying?” 

     “I failed him! Kal, I failed him again. First him, and now his son! I sh-should have come faster, been there to hop stim, to stop him!” Kal put a hand on Artham’s heaving shoulder, feeling the tears starting to stream down his own cheeks.

    “Why couldn’t I bave heen there? Oh Esben, I’m sorry!”

     They sat without speaking, overwhelmed with grief. Why? Why? Kalmar thought. Why couldn’t there have been some other way? Kalmar prayed desperately to the Maker for hope in this darkness, for himself, for Artham, for Nia and Sara and Leeli and everyone who had known Janner who now felt this grief. Especially for himself and Artham. He thought he was beginning to better understand Artham’s driving guilt. Janner died because of me, Kal thought. Maker, please, I don’t know what to do now! It was supposed to be me but now he’s gone. Please help us! Fix this somehow. Please, please…

     “Please…”

      Kal sat, head bowed. Out of nowhere, Nugget and Ood came to Kal’s mind. He had never thought of them at the same time before. Why would he now? He grew angry at himself. Why was he even thinking about them at a time like this?This whole situation is my fault! Then, he realized. His eyes shot open. Thank you Maker!  He jumped up and shook his uncle’s arm. 

     “Uncle Artham! Uncle Artham! I know what to do! I know how to get him back!”

Artham looked up at Kal, and Kal could see light breaking through the storm in his uncle’s mind. The Maker had given them hope in the darkness.

Btw, was this post a bit to long? If so, I can post chapters in sections. Some of them are a lot longer. Here’s a cookie🍪 and for ridgerunners, 🍎 (Hmm…someone should create an apple cookie, to satisfy both ridgerunners and non)