Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the beginning, there were three. 

(a fourth joined later, but he’s not that important.)

And then, there were two.

(okay, maybe he was.)

And then there was one. 

Mango mango

(Stop it with the intrusive thoughts.)

quack 

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Mango looked up from his book to the sound of the dread portal. “How was the hunt?” 

The green figure, only a block tall, gave up trying to reach the top of his enchanting table to stare at the (relatively) towering Wolf. 

(Why am I doing this?)

clunk

“Not bad.” The bundle spilled open, depositing the goodies from his weekly outing. 

“For once, did you get the stuff I asked for?” Apple walked in from the crafting room, still sanding a stick into what he called ‘the perfect shape’ [patent pending].

(Always so particular.)

The leather-draped warrior crossed his arms, a touch defensively, “Of course I did. The gapples, right? I’m not that forgetful.”

Mango snorted. “What about that time you left the door open and let those creepers in?”

(Took us a week to rebuild the tower.)

Wolf pouted. “I’d like to see you find a single block of iron in the time it take for me to get diamonds.” 

He took Apple’s stuff out, then snatched up the bundle and disappeared into The Tree, distinguished by the signs nearby as “WOOLF BEDROM” and “COL PLECE”.

(Typical.)

Apple sighed through his red gaiter and snatched up the loot, still holding the stick.

Mango turned to him. “We starting tomorrow?”

(We never should have started it.)

 “Yep.”

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The dull clank of iron-shod boots was the only sound in the room, save for the crackling of the sconce-encased torches. The walls were either stone gray or hospital beige, with the only splash of colour being a bright red carpet that led to…

(The Throne.)

A dark figure, perfectly sculpted face bowed, was seated there, hands steepled. If blocks could steeple.

Wolf waited nearby, reverently holding a cushion on which lay a circlet of shimmering diamond, with inlays of gold, lapis and netherite.

(Twas but a trinket.)

At a gesture, he stepped forward and held it up, then placed it on the figure’s head. 

He then retreated to the shadows behind the throne.

(So trusting.)

 The doors opened. Two figures, one wearing his signature orange cape and the newcomer sporting a tall oak staff, stepped in, gazing at the looming pedestal.

Mango’s voice carried across the room. “Apple, this is Lightning.”

(It was never working out.)

“He’s a mage.”

Apple frowned, the lines on his face so defined they appeared to be his natural state. 

(Always judgy.)

“Mages we have. And mages we do not need more of.”

“He specializes in more… intricate magic.”

(Too intricate for power, evidently.)

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The horns of war rang out for one reason, and one reason only.

Treason.

(All so naive.)

The giant mess hall was empty, save for a board on which lay two pieces of paper, with two faces.

Both had been stabbed through the eyes. 

(Everyone was so worked up.)

The weapons stores, their wares depleted, exposing all the cobwebs that had built up over the years.

The giant case in the middle was empty.

(Took way too many for a job like this.)

The Mages’ quarter was deserted, with only The Rod having any signs of life, past or present.

The bodies formed a small mountain.

(Why did so many have to die.)

A single figure pacing the Throne Room.

Waiting.

(All for one.)

He needed more, more.

Kill the traitors.

(None for all.)

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Chapter Text

Crimson-scarlet spilled across the bloodstained tiles, vermillion eyes staring from the dark.

Yet another lay on the chopping block.

The wind whispered through the false-hallowed halls - a broken dystopia of god. The wind whispered his name, cried memories, but he did not listen; he could not hear.

Apple, monarch, god, walked in. “Wolf! I must speak to you in private.”

”It is time.”

The dark figure looked up from his supervision, and with a word ceased the executioner’s labors. He knelt.

”My King.”

They withdrew then, through the wretched wails of the dying and damned, one with the harsh clank of iron-shod boots and the other the soft pad of bare skin on stone.

Past the familiar route, past the cowering acolytes, past the broken bodies of the heretic.

Home.

The Tower still stood in all its glory, a sign of things that were and things to come. The Crafting Room and Magika still stood, though neglected and spurned for the lapis-adorned luxuries of the Mage and Arms quarters. But the essence still remained. Still the Tree loomed over the complex, the giant oak behemoth with ever-green leaves a statement to the well-being of the clan and the solidity of its base. Everything was as it should be, as it had been for years.

Eventually, curiosity triumphed over reverence.

”What are we doing here again?”

“The Rite of Gam’lael. It will give power beyond compare.”

They started up the stairs, the only sound being a regular rhythm of pad-clonk-swish, pad-clonk-swish, only Wolf’s tail betraying any sign of emotion. Perhaps it was curiosity. Perhaps it was fear.

”Apple—“

“I told you not to call me that.”

Subdued silence followed. Instead of further challenging Apple, Wolf decided to take the chance to gaze at what he could see of his first home, while effortlessly bounding up the stairs that had never been a problem for him.

Been a while since I was last up here.

As they strode out into the main hall, a flood of memories presented themselves with each object before them. A broken gold helmet: the time they had killed their first mob in full armour. A weathered shard of amethyst: a crystal Apple had recovered after a day in the mines, glowering a soft shade of violet. A sputtering redstone lamp: one of many relics from the old days of experimentation.

We learned how TNT works the hard way.

A wry smile touched Wolf’s lips.

Apple pushed through them all, pushed past the memories, to the center of the room. He pulled out a dark-grey tome, its spine and cover pulsating with an otherworldly light. It looked akin to parched soil, cracks present all over, thirsting for water, for life.

For blood.

He turned to the awestruck Wolf.

”Stop gaping. We have a job to do.”

Wolf shut his mouth with a snap and grinned, grey ears perking up.

”So this thing knocks me out for a while, right?”

”It does. I’ll rouse you when it’s done.”

And so it began.

The door had been bolted shut, more out of habit than anything, but also to discourage any potential uninvited viewers. Anyways, if one had been outside the door in the first place, the flashes of green and red light, coupled with the booming incantations in an unknown language, would have scared away anyone halfway sane.

And then it was over.

……

”D-did it work?” Wolf yawned and opened his eyes.

Apple hesitated for a second, stuffing away the now fully smooth book and drawing a singular fragment-like item from his satchel. A faint glow emanated from it in effervescent bursts, somehow communicating warmth despite its size.

“Yes. This… is a soul shard. Your soul shard. Keep it well, for with it comes great power and responsibility. It is yours, and yours to keep. To lose it would be to lose part of your being, your life.”

Wolf’s emerald green eyes lit up.

“Thanks, Apple! I’ll take good care of it, I promise!” 

For once, the robed figure ignored the classic breach of ‘etiquette’ by his old friend. He sighed, nodded his acknowledgement, and tucked the leather bag under his arm. 

“Let’s go.”

They emerged from the base of the tower in the night air, as Wolf paused to catch his breath. Their surroundings were still, unusually so for those so accustomed to the cacophony of noise that came with directing higher-ups. 

Maybe a little too still.

“I shall see you in the morning, Wolf. Have a good rest.”

The King turned his back and strode away. 

“You too!” Wolf called at the rapidly retreating figure.

He sighed and looked up at the night sky. He wasn’t quite sure what all this was about, but he trusted Apple, trusted him to do what was best. He would be loyal. He would be faithful. He would be ruthless if need be, but only for his friends. His friends.

A single oak leaf fell to the ground.

Chapter Text

Rain poured outside, rattling the stained glass panes, solemn images imprinted a grim canvas for the living, breathing vapor condensed, motion against solidity. Thunder joined in the cacophony from time to time as nature’s orchestra lifted their instruments and played their ancient song, unpredictability personified amongst a recurring theme.

The throne was higher now, nameless metals glittering in a syncophant display of luxury.

Such was but deserved by the God-king. 

“Heyyyy apple! What kinda mission do you have for me now?”

His men were accustomed to the regular breach of decorum from the leather-clad commander. Odd, eccentric perhaps, but the Founders were never questioned. They were the ones that had set the giant flywheel in motion, after all.

“Hey, why the long face?” Wolf strolled up to the dais, hands behind his head and adopting a sulky yet playful expression. “Loosen up already, won’t you? My men are so emotionless. You’d think they forgot everything about themselves, the way they can’t even have a simple conversation.”

The robe-clad figure gritted his teeth. “Your job is to command them, not chat with them! How many times have I told you this?! They’re not meant to respond.” 

Wolf immediately employed one of his favorite tactics, commonly known as the ‘puppy eyes’. Even Apple himself couldn’t resist them, hard walls of reinforced annoyance crumbling down. 

He drew himself together, and sighed. “You’ll be going to Cordolium for a week or so to assist with the recruitment center there. The villagers there are… reluctant to join our cause. I have to admit, you’re better than me at this kind of thing anyway. I hope you won’t let me down.”

Wolf snapped to attention. “Yes, sir! Whatever you say, sir!” 

The whole situation would have been rather solemn, if it wasn’t for the goofy grin plastered all over his face.

“I can’t tell if you’re being genuine anymore.” 

 Was that a slight upturn of Apple’s mouth?

“See? I knew my buddy’s under there somewhere.”

If there had been any much-needed exercise of his facial muscles, it was gone in an instant. 

“You will go there and help them meet quota. Do whatever you have to do, but I expect new members. And don’t get too attached to anyone. Now go.”

The gray-eared demihuman smiled, emerald eyes reassuring and confident, but with a hint of sadness. “I‘ll do my best, Apple. I promise.”

And then he was gone, with a swish of his tail, and the deadset wooden door thumped back into place, iron bar lodged in place by the door guard. The ruler of all was left to his thoughts. And feelings, if he had any left. Something felt off for once, and Apple didn’t know what, toying with a bowl of grapes one of his bowing acolytes had left on the nearby table. This was all going to plan, and well. 

He studied one of the green orbs. So transparent, so weak. So insignificant between my fingers. Just like what I’ve created here. Just like the world. All is well. 

So why did he feel something down there, in the cavernous expanse of his heart?  Something different, something unexpected, something else. Was there, maybe, just maybe, a tiny sliver of guilt? 

The grape between his fingers went squish.

Chapter Text

Darkness personified, spreading slowly but surely through the land; no light but the absence, amid the chaos, and the absence was growing.

All this, however, was completely lost on the happy Wolf, currently having a snooze inside the covered wagon as it trundled its way to its destination. The horse-drawn vehicle, covered by metal plating, made for a cozy yet protected inside, one that the anthropomorphic creature was taking full advantage of. 

The cloth flap they used for an opening, well, opened. A wary head, shrouded in the regular black hood, poked inside. “Sir? Sir! We’ve arrived.” 

The happy grin stayed where it was.

“Sir?”

Eliana watched in amusement as the hooded lackey emerged from the strange-looking cart again, talking with the driver. Snatches of the conversation, such as “still asleep?” and “behind schedule” floated across to where she was hiding strategically standing behind a bush, as a bunch of other people in robes stood around uncomfortably.

Whoever’s inside must be kinda important. And probably knocked out.

The tall girl smiled at the thought, only pausing to brush a strand of her golden-brown hair back into place as she turned away from the mildly interesting happenings to her less interesting and much more annoying younger brother. 

Her annoying younger brother who was wailing on the ground clutching his finger. 

“Lucien! I told you not to chop firewood without a thumb guard!” 

“I’ll become an axe expert, just you wait!” The teenager stopped himself at the sight of his sister’s face and quite wisely closed his mouth, adopting an appropriately remorseful expression.

Eliana sighed to herself as she headed back to the house for a bandage, once more looking back at the odd carriage. 

I’ll make it out of here. Someday.

It was night now, all in all a better time for avoiding any prying eyes. Most of the safe houses were on the outskirts of villagers anyways. The less attention, the better.

I hate ceremonial stuff.

Wolf yawned and rubbed, rather unsuccessfully, the sleep from his eyes in an attempt to freshen up as he walked to the house. The view of his hand gave way to two rows of bowing members, uncomfortable and trying very hard not to move.

Oops.

“Uhh… hi guys!” He gave what he hoped was a friendly wave. “Y’all can.. uhh.. stop bowing now.” The solemn ranks did not move. “Guys?”

Ohshoottheyrewaitingformetoenter-

Wolf was a he/him, but he was also really/fast. 

The empty bedroom stood as it was, dust shrouding the double-sided blue bed. The siblings hadn’t been up there in years, evidenced by the half-disintegrated wilting flowers next to it, the only sign of life having existed there in the first place. 

The first floor was where they made their home. Their house was big, but too much for the two of them, so they kept to the two rooms and kitchen, surviving as best they could. They hoped for better days, but prepared for worse ones, and it was a philosophy that had stood them in good stead. 

Some neighbours admired the family to a certain extent for making the best of their situation, watching the responsible, proper Eliana and the youthfully energetic Lucien go about their lives, but it wasn’t exactly a caring village. For some unknown reason, most kept to themselves, the only conversations being purely transactional. And so, the siblings went about their lives.

Waiting…

Wolf was bored. He was meant to give a speech in a few days, but had absolutely nothing to do beforehand. Which, for him, was as bad as having red-hot nails driven into his toes, one by one. Probably worse.

At least this bed is halfway decent.

He stared at the ceiling. It had been made, as most things were, with the intention to be solid, but there were cracks visibly forming around the edges, despite the owner’s obvious efforts to hide them with a new coat of gold paint. One had almost even made its way to the center, where the impressive (if by impressive you mean fragile and rusty) chandelier hung. 

Feeling restless, he swung his legs over the side and sat, staring into space. What was the point of even coming here, to the edge of absolutely nowhere, just for some new members? Why would Apple send a Founder here?

I want food.

Not wanting to disobey his ‘primal instincts’ (aka hunger), he turned to his pack, which was surprisingly neat. Or maybe not, considering he hadn’t opened it yet. As he threw things over his shoulder, occasionally setting something down with great care, he saw a black case, one familiarly shaped, it’s contents obvious. His face lit up, and after gingerly lifting it out, hugged it close to his chest.

At least he had something to keep him company.

Chapter Text

Wolf was happy.

His quite visibly troubled hosts weren’t as they searched all over the house, wondering where he was and progressively freaking out over the possibility that their rather important guest could be missing. 

Oops. Seems like I forgot to leave them a note.

Wolf sighed and stood up in the grassy field, brushing daises off his tunic.

“Guys! Yoohoo! I’m over here! No need to worry!”

They looked up at the grassy hillock he had positioned himself on, and their faces went through some very interesting expressions, ranging from relief, shock, and exasperation as some choice words were muttered under breaths.

That taken care of, Wolf promptly flopped down into the grass again and, in quite a dignified manner, started snoozing.

Lucien woke up.

“Five more minutes…” He mumbled to absolutely nobody, the quintessential phrase of anyone who is going to be in bed for way longer than just  five minutes.

Eliana loved the hill, full of grass and flowers. It was such a peaceful getaway from the village, where she could just be with nature. The scent of the fresh morning dew, soft sounds of grass crushing under her light steps, and the feel of the morning sun on her skin all gave her the peace she so desperately lacked, if only for a while before she had to remember life again.

As she walked through the grass, eyes closed, she finally felt at peace.

She tripped over a prone body.

“Huh?”

Wolf awoke from his slumber just in time to see a girl toppling towards him. He immediately put out his arms to catch her shoulders, both to break her fall and because eww… females.

It worked, thankfully, and the strange creature, blushing red for some reason after landing on his hands, immediately recoiled.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” She had an interesting voice, one he was little used to from his time in the cult, especially showing care and concern. He blinked. Someone was being nice to him?

The girl waved her hand over his face. “Hello? Earth to… why do you have cat ears?”

It was a while before he remembered the functioning capacity of his mouth. “Wolf, actually. That’s my name too, by the way.” He smiled at her, more out of habit than anything.

Silence followed.

Awkward much?

Out of all the things Eliana would have expected to trip on in the grass, a guy with wolf ears and a tail definitely wasn’t one of them. Oh, he was pleasant enough, with what looked like a genuine smile, but a demihuman isn’t something you find on your average village hill. Eventually, she broke the silence.

“Who- who are you? What are you doing here?”

And why is he sleeping here?

The guy sat up and grinned. “I told you already, I’m Wolf! I’m on this random assignment thing, and I have to give a speech in a few days. But all this stuff is so boring, and I hate it.” He flopped onto his stomach and yawned. “Why do all that when you can just sit in a pile of grass and sleep, y’know?”

“Completely valid,” Eliana replied, stifling a laugh, then realising the meaning of something he had said. “So you’re from… the cult thing? All the people there seem so… cold and distant. No one here likes them.”

“Fair enough. My friend sent me to recruit some people, but everyone here’s just as dead as back home. Except you, evidently.”

Was that a compliment?

“Uhh… thanks, I guess. You don’t seem to bad yourself.”

He gave a sad smile. “I try. It’s hard sometimes, though. No one ever replies.” And just like that, the shadow on his face disappeared, returning to its original sunny state. “Anyways, what’s your name, stranger?”

She hesitated for a second, then offered her hand.

“Eliana. Nice to meet you.”