Something Extra - Hungry Heart - Ch. 17 (Patreon)

Chapter One  / Chapter Two  / Chapter Three  / Chapter Four  / Chapter Five  / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten  / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen 

Chapter Seventeen – Back to Whitekeep

Duril waited for two beats. Varg nodded and encouraged him with his eyes. Toru was looking at him like he could never go wrong. Even the young lord of the land seemed ready to hang on his every word.

“I’m thinking that we need help. The people here, they need seeds to sow new crops, and food to take them through the time needed until they are capable of sustaining everyone through their own sweat. So, what I’m thinking is that we should go back to Whitekeep and ask there for help.”

Varg intervened right away, “That’s a brilliant idea! Whitekeep could lend Fairside some of its reserves. And I’m going to talk to my pack. With your consent, Lord Onyx,” he turned courteously toward the young master, “I could have some of the wolfshifters in Whitekeep come help you rebuild this place.”

Onyx blushed, most probably impressed by being called a lord by Varg. “But how will we repay them?”

“You will be successful, with the right help, Lord Onyx,” Duril said. “What you and your people need right now is to get the reconstruction of your parents’ wealth off the ground. We should warn you, however, that the help that will come cannot compensate for your weaknesses forever. The people here will have to start working right away.”

“But who will go hunting if we go back to Whitekeep?” That was Toru who was watching everyone with keen eyes.

Duril wanted to tell the young tigershifter how proud he was of him. Maybe he would get the chance later, as Toru needed to learn about what a good heart he had to care so much for strangers. Nothing was stopping him from being on his way, leaving everyone behind, but he had chosen to stay.

And that made Duril happy like he had never been before in his life.

“Lord Onyx, assemble your men,” Varg commanded in a voice that brooked no contradiction. “Today, they are not farmers or simple peasants. Today, they are hunters and those in charge of putting food on the table for everyone.”

Onyx hesitated and looked around anxiously. “Will you all be gone? Duril, too?”

The healer was touched by the unhidden attachment the young lord seemed to feel toward him.

“You went against evil and won, pup,” Varg said affectionately and changing tack. “I’ll come with you and watch as you tell them the truth. I know you are born to be a wise ruler. Now, let’s go. We have no time to waste. Toru, take Duril and head back to Whitekeep immediately.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Duril asked.

“I’ll help around here for a bit, but then I’ll travel in my wolf shape to my pack. They must be hunting at this time of year, so I’ll go searching for them in the forests around Whitekeep. You two are in charge of talking to the townsfolk.”

Duril nodded dutifully. As always, Varg made a fair point.

“So, are we going on a road trip just the two of us?” Toru sounded excited.

Duril looked at him and blushed instantly. Yes, they would go on a road trip just the two of them.

***

Toru could only do this much to not jump up and down with unhidden glee. He knew Duril had a fair point about not making Varg jealous, especially since the wolfshifter tended to be a pain in the butt when he felt like it. And Toru really didn’t need the mutt to stick his warm tongue into his ear again. That was enough to make him want to purr, and he didn’t want to purr and let the wolfshifter know that he could wrap him around his little finger if he wanted.

He was a bit disappointed by how Duril didn’t appear jealous of Varg at all. What if the healer actually wanted the mutt more than he wanted him? There was no doubt about how much they wanted each other, and he couldn’t put in words how happy he was that Duril liked cats, as a general rule.

But what if he liked dogs, too? Duril was like that. He liked everyone, and that made Toru feel a bit insecure. Of course, it was part of being a great healer to have a big, open heart like that, but that didn’t mean that Toru could accept it without making sure first that he would take up the most room in Duril’s heart.

A road trip all by themselves sounded like a good way to figure out whether Duril liked Varg more than him, or the other way around. He could try and convince himself that it didn’t matter, but it did.

“Are we going already?” he asked.

“I should pack you some leftovers,” Zul offered.

“We’ll manage,” Toru said brusquely and took Duril by the hand.

“Yes, your people here could use the leftovers,” the healer confirmed, but he dug his heels in the ground, stopping Toru. “We don’t have to hurry so much, Toru. We should at least say goodbye properly.”

The healer would have him behave, and while not ecstatic about the idea, Toru was willing to obey.

Varg approached them with a sly smile on his lips. “Make sure not to trip on your own tail, kitten.”

Toru scoffed and held Duril’s hand firmly in his. “Go ahead and say what you want to say, mutt.”

“I don’t want to say much,” Varg retorted. “But I want to do this.” He suddenly grabbed Duril by the shoulders, pressed a short kiss on his lips, and let him go.

Toru felt his jaw dropping, but then he frowned. He let go of Duril to grab Varg by the front of his shirt. “What do you think you’re doing, you mutt?”

“Jealous? You don’t have to be.” Varg took him by surprise and kissed him, too.

Toru sputtered in disbelief and pushed the wolfshifter away. The mutt was laughing out loud. “Stop kissing us whenever you feel like it!”

Varg shrugged. “Why would I stop? You two are a shy lot. Someone’s gotta do something.”

Toru wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he could bet he was beet red by how hot his ears felt. Each time the wolfshifter touched him, he lost his bearings for a moment and even more. “We’ll do something,” he replied petulantly.

Varg winked at him. “You better.” He then pulled Toru into a tight hug. “Take good care of him, all right?” he whispered into his ear.

“You don’t have to tell me that, mutt,” Toru mumbled back.

“Good. And take good care of yourself, too. If anything happens to either of you, I’ll munch your ears.”

Toru added nothing to that. The wolfshifter knew how to overwhelm him in all possible ways. He closed his eyes and kept them that way even as Varg moved away from him.

Duril brought him back to reality. “What did Varg say to you?”

Toru bristled to hide his real feelings. “Just mutt things. Let’s go before he comes after us to bite our ears. Someone has to feed him, or else he’ll start eating us.”

It took no courage to say those words since Varg was already out of earshot, but it felt good to pretend, at least, that he hadn’t been affected by the wolfshifter’s words. Such things were new to him. Sure, along the way, he had been embraced by many, and he had embraced them back, but the care and love offered by his new friends filled his heart to the brim.

“I doubt that’s a real danger,” Duril said and laughed. “But let’s hurry. The people of Whitekeep should be able to help Fairside.”

“If they say anything against it, I’ll tell them Varg will eat them all.”

Duril laughed again. “I believe that will be quite the motivation for them to listen to our plea. But let’s hope we don’t have to resort to such threats.”

***

They walked out of the castle keep hand in hand, and soon they were outside the Fairside village surrounding the fortress. Duril let out a small sound of surprise when Toru shifted into his tiger form. “Hop on my back. We can’t let the mutt beat us to Whitekeep.”

Duril grabbed a handful of rich fur, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingers. “Are you sure? I’m quite heavy.”

“Heavy? Pfft. I can carry three like you.”

Toru liked being boastful and thought himself in a competition with Varg, for some reason. Duril wanted nothing but to put his young heart at ease, but he had no idea how to broach that kind of conversation.

“All right, but as soon as you feel the slightest sign of tiredness, please tell me.”

It was comfortable to ride on Toru’s back. He was such a strong, beautiful tiger and he flowed over the ground like water.

“Are you good there?” the tigershifter asked as soon as he broke into a sprint.

“Sure.” Duril enjoyed the wind in his face. It was quite a long trip to Whitekeep, so maybe he could use that time to learn a few things about his handsome companion. “Toru, I know very little about you,” he started. “Not that I mind,” he added, “I mean, you could tell me nothing if it’s too… hurtful. Or if you simply don’t want to talk about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

Maybe Toru had waited for someone he could confide in, too.

“Where are you from?”

“Here and there,” Toru replied. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but I don’t know.”

“You’re an orphan,” Duril said and sighed.

“You don’t have to pity me.” Toru increased the pace, and Duril watched the trees flashing past and felt a little dizzy.

“All my life,” Duril confessed, “I thought I was the most pitiful. I should have known that others must have had it worse than me.”

Toru’s immediate response was a grunt. “You just want to cuddle everyone you meet.”

“Not exactly. I want to cuddle with you, for sure.”

The wind in his face was getting harsher.

“I was born, or I guess I was born, down south,” Toru began and slowed down a little. “I grew up among humans, so I’m used to hiding my tiger shape.”

“Were they mean to you?”

“Not all. And I could scare them by shifting into my tiger.”

“Did you always know how to shift? How did you come by this knowledge?”

“I just knew I could,” Toru explained. “Ever since I was little. There was this place where the humans kept the orphans. I grew up fast, making those in charge wonder what was it about me that caused that to happen. I must have been three years old when I remember shifting for the first time. But it could have happened before.”

“You must have scared those people,” Duril said with a small laugh.

“I think it explained why I was trying to steal everyone’s meat during supper. It was just so little.”

“With your hunting abilities, I guess you don’t easily go hungry now,” Duril observed.

“It’s not always easy,” Toru admitted.

Duril liked this part of Toru, the one that didn’t hesitate to admit such things. The tigershifter was a beautiful sight when he boasted and brawled, but he knew how to be honest, too. As far as Duril could tell, he did that only with people he considered worthy of his trust.

“When did you leave that place?”

“I think I wasn’t ten yet,” Toru replied. “I just left, restless. They barely had enough food, and the children were nasty. I could beat everyone,” he paused, “but I preferred to leave.”

“That was kind of you,” Duril said gently.

“I guess you can say that. I didn’t eat them.”

Duril could sense the small tremors of amusement in Toru’s voice and laughed. “You’re not partial to human meat, then.”

“No,” Toru said. “I enjoy deer the most. Maybe I won’t eat a lot of rabbit from now on, though.”

“Because of Zul.”

“Yeah. I don’t eat anything if I meet shapeshifters of that kind. It would feel wrong.”

Duril pondered for a moment before proceeding carefully ahead. “Toru, can you tell me, in all honesty, what you think of me?”

“Think of you? You mean, because you’re a half-orc and all that?”

“Yes, and not only.” Duril looked at his maimed arm, not daring to mention that, too.

“I saw orcs once. They pillaged a village with their horde. I hid well, so they didn’t find me.”

“They surely don’t have a good reputation, my people. That’s why I never fought back when people showed their distrust toward me.”

“You’re nothing like them,” Toru said sharply. “I understand that they must have felt scared at first, but you grew up in Whitekeep, right?”

“Yes.”

“So they should have known you’re kind.”

Duril fell silent. He knew Toru to be right, but he couldn’t bring himself to think like that about some of the people of Whitekeep. If he allowed himself that, he would invite anger in and there was a part of him, the orc part most probably, that wanted at least once to fight back. He quenched it.

Toru appeared to have read his thoughts. “I don’t know how you do it, be kind like that with everyone. If I were you, I’d at least scare them with those tusks. I bet they’d all run away, screaming.”

“It’s not always easy,” Duril admitted. “You must have heard what they were saying about my mother.”

“Yes, some things.”

“She taught me to be kind. She told me not to surrender myself to the orc part in me.”

“I like the orc part of you,” Toru said directly.

Duril felt his cheeks growing hot. Sometimes, it was like that. Toru said something genuine and he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. “What do you like about it?” he asked quietly.

“I think your tusks are pretty cute. And I like it that you’re so big and warm. I’d cuddle with you all day long.”

Duril laughed. “I don’t think orcs even have the notion of cuddling.”

“But you’re not an orc,” Toru argued.

“I’m not completely human, either.”

“You’re you,” Toru said simply. “And that’s why I like you so much,” he added, after a short pause.

That was that. The tigershifter was an uncomplicated creature. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he was never apologetic. Still, Duril wanted to know why he had kept his shifting abilities a secret.

“Toru, I know I must annoy you by insisting on this, but why were you so keen that I didn’t find out you were a shapeshifter?”

Quiet followed, but only for a few moments. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“How could I have thought that? You’re an impressive tiger. Very beautiful.”

“Do you think so?” The hope in Toru’s voice was unmistakable.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know it. You must have broken dozens of hearts along the way until you reached Whitekeep.”

Toru snickered like a naughty kid. “That’s not true.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then believe that I won’t break anyone’s heart from now on.”

Duril could understand what Toru meant by that. “Varg knew you were a shapeshifter.”

“He has too good a nose, that mutt. He gave me that bite on my back when I first came to you.”

Duril gasped. “He did? But why?”

“I stole his pack’s food. I was hungry!” Toru sounded argumentative, and Duril knew better than to contradict him on the topic of food. “Anyway, he followed me and just when I was busy filling my belly, he jumped on my back like a coward.”

Duril had a feeling that Toru took quite a bit of artistic license in presenting the events that had happened between him and Varg. But he decided not to say anything about it.

“I bet he liked to sink his teeth in my back. Such a vicious dog,” Toru complained.

“But then you became friends.” Duril understood what must have led to Varg’s actions. The wolfshifter would die for his pack. Even in the deep forests around Whitekeep, food didn’t always come easily. If he had bitten Toru that badly, it must have been because he needed to secure the food for his brethren.

“He was all over me,” Toru continued in the same expansive manner.

“Varg cares about you a great deal,” Duril pointed out.

Another silence followed. “I know.”

For all his badmouthing of the wolfshifter, Toru must have felt the same. Duril didn’t need to hear him say it to know that it was true.

***

Toru placed the hunted deer at Duril’s feet. “You know what to do with this, right?”

He purred as Duril caressed him between the ears and then rubbed under his jaw. If there was one thing he liked best when he was in tiger form it was how the healer never spared caresses and petting.

“I sure do. I already made the fire. It will be ready soon. I cannot guarantee that it will top Varg’s roasted deer, but I hope that it will be a close second.”

“That mutt has nothing on you,” Toru said and shifted into his human form.

Duril threw him a curious look as he got busy preparing the food. “You know, I’ve always wondered. What does it feel like to shift?”

Toru puffed out his chest. He enjoyed Duril’s interest in him and was happy to answer all of his questions. “When I turn into my tiger, I feel all powerful,” he explained. “I can sense all my muscles growing, my eyes getting sharper, my claws.”

“And when you turn into your human?” Duril continued as his only hand rubbed salt and herbs into the deer.

“That’s different, deeper. My heart grows while my body shrinks. And it’s here,” Toru pointed at his head. “All kind of thoughts inside my head.”

“What thoughts? If you can tell me, of course.”

“Mostly about who I am.”

“You’re wondering about your parents,” Duril offered his opinion.

Toru shook his head and watched as Duril mounted the deer carcass on a stick and placed it over the fire. It was incredible how many things the healer could do with just one hand. He was nimble despite his large frame and seemed to know what to do all of the time. He was wise, and maybe Toru could confide in him and tell him about the call of the road and those strange dreams.

“I don’t wonder about them,” he replied to the healer’s question. “I don’t care.”

“Do you really mean that?” Duril asked kindly.

Toru thrust his chin forward, defiantly. “If they abandoned me, it’s their loss.”

“That goes without saying.” Duril looked at him with his kind eyes. “What are you thinking of when you shift, though?”

“I’m thinking,” Toru pondered, “about the road ahead of me. All my life, I moved from place to place, looking for something. But I don’t know what that something is. Argh, I just can’t explain it,” he added in frustration.

“It’s all right. Most people I know, shifters or humans, don’t know either. It doesn’t make you less in any way, Toru.”

“But I want to tell you,” Toru said with fervor. He clasped his hand over his chest. “It’s like this hunger, in my heart. A hunger for… answers.”

Duril turned the deer slowly. The fat drippings caught fire and rose as smoke and delicious smells. “Then you’re not the only one.”

“Do you feel it, too? This hunger?” Toru longed for someone to understand what happened inside his soul.

“I don’t know how to define it. But all of my life, I struggled. There hasn’t been a day when I didn’t have to think about survival. It changed, though. When you came knocking on my door.”

Toru expressed his disbelief out loud. “But I made you leave your home, your shop!”

“The shop came only after you saved us from the rocs. Don’t you forget that, Toru. I only got it because of you and your bravery. And because Varg insisted. I’m not sure I deserved it.”

“Oh, you better be,” Toru warned. “Those damned townsfolk. I would have kicked them in the seat of their pants if only you had let me.”

Duril laughed softly. “Then I won’t argue with you anymore. Now, let me tell you how you changed everything for me, and for the better. Before, all the days were the same, in and out, with nothing to make them different. You brought hope with you, Toru, that there is something beyond a life spent in a mere struggle for survival. I believe that you are destined for great things. And, forgive me for being selfish, but I want to be a part of it. Plus, no day spent with you is ever boring.”

“Yeah,” Toru snorted, “when rocs don’t want to eat our flesh, there are forces of darkness that make all the good food disappear.”

Duril laughed. “Let’s enjoy our meal for now and forget about such troublesome forces of darkness.”

Toru accepted the plate, reining in hard his desire to grab the entire deer carcass and sink its teeth in it. But Duril was civilized, not like him, so he needed to behave when in his company, too.

“This is awesome,” he praised as he began eating. There was nothing better than roasted meat in the universe.

“I’m happy you enjoy it,” Duril said. “This is our only stop. We cannot afford to lose one moment.”

“Yeah,” Toru admitted. “They depend on us,” he added quietly.

It was a new feeling growing inside him. To know that there were people who needed him like that. But the most beautiful feeling filled his chest when he looked at Duril while knowing that he had a dear friend close to his heart.

“What do you think they will say? In Whitekeep? Will they be willing to part with their supplies so that they can save Fairside?”

Duril nodded thoughtfully. “We will need to convince them. Let’s not forget that, for them, Fairside hasn’t been on the face of the earth for centuries. They know of it as Vilemoor.”

Toru pondered, lost in thought. “Before we head over to the mayor and his council of greybeards, I want to see the old witch.”

“Agatha?”

“Yeah, her.”

“But why?”

Toru set his eyes on Duril. “She knows more than she lets on. Only that she’s old and a little nutty.”

“Hey, it’s not nice to talk like that about your elders.”

Toru snorted. “I bet she doesn’t mind being called that. She’s shrewd and wants to have me think of stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“I don’t know. But she does. And if I go back there, anyway, I want to talk to her some more. To tell her about my dreams.”

“What dreams?” Duril questioned. “If you can tell me.”

Toru closed his eyes. “I’ll always tell you everything from now on. It’s a dream, actually, that comes from time to time. I’m going someplace, but I don’t know where. And there’s someone with me, but I can’t see who.”

“It is a bit of a strange dream,” Duril admitted. “It’s a good idea to ask Agatha about it. She’s old and wise, so she might have an answer for you.”

“I’m betting on it. And maybe she could teach you a thing or two about potions and whatnot.”

“I’ve never had the courage to visit her and ask her. Witches are not particularly happy with the idea of sharing their knowledge.”

“Maybe Agatha is not like most witches. What other witch would tell you to call her ‘old witch’?”

Duril laughed. “Yes, I must admit that she’s a bit quirky, and not always how you would expect a witch to be.”

“Then that’s settled. And after we talk to her, we’ll go speak to the elders, too. They must listen to us.”

“Especially you, the hero of Whitekeep.”

Toru shrugged, trying to rein in the pleasant feeling of having his courage recognized for what it was. “People tend to forget about heroes, after a while,” he whispered.

Duril stopped and looked at him. “Then I’ll make sure to remind them. Don’t you think I won’t.”

“Ah, so you’ll protect me?” Toru blinked lazily.

Duril nodded solemnly.

“Then you can give me a kiss.”

Duril blushed and looked away.

“Just a small one,” Toru pleaded. “Tiny. A peck, really. I’ll close my eyes.”

He felt the healer caressing his cheek and then warm lips on his. The tusks were there, but they didn’t bother him. To show that he meant every little word he had said, he kissed back but without going further.

To make sure not to embarrass Duril any longer, he pulled back after a while. “We don’t have time, right?”

Duril pulled him into a hug. “That’s true, but so are my feelings for you. Ready to get going?”

“Sure thing. Let’s pay a visit to the old witch and then drag the greybeards by their beards to help Fairside.”

The healer chuckled. “I think that it would be for the best if you let me do the talking.”

“That could work, too,” Toru agreed before shifting. “Come on, back in the saddle.”

“Saddle? But I have to admit, you are quite the stud.”

It surprised him that Duril had a sense of humor, too. Before, the healer had seemed sad, but his eyes were shining with new-found confidence these days. Toru was happy to see that.

***

Dark smoke rose in the distance. Duril watched the tar-like tendrils reaching high, and a sudden feeling of apprehension grew in his gut.

“Are they having a feast over there? Without us?” Toru asked.

“I hope that’s what they’re doing,” Duril said warily. “What does your smell tell you, Toru?”

The tigershifter raised his nose to the wind and sniffed. “Burnt wood. Let’s hurry there.”

That was just what he was thinking, too. If it was a feast, that would be great. But if not –

He didn’t let his mind finish the thought. There were people he cared for in Whitekeep. With all the bad things that had happened to him there, he still cared.

Toru sprinted, making Duril grab hold of his fur tightly to avoid losing his balance. They moved fast, and their eyes watered as the smell of smoke became harsher.

They reached the top of a hill and looked down. The settlement looked like a battlefield.

***

Varg could smell his pack from miles away. He had left Onyx and Zul to take care of things in Fairside, but he was eager to go back. They had a mighty endeavor in front of them and not a moment to spare.

He rushed through the tall trees, his nostrils flaring. He could tell that Ganon and the others weren’t far, but there was still a way to go to reach them. They must have sensed him by now as well, yet Varg could tell he was the only one on the move.

He stopped for a moment and howled. His ears perked up, ready to catch the slightest sound. His entire body tensed as he waited. Finally, a faint howl echoed in the distance. Varg broke into a sprint again, the ground peppered with fir needles crunching under his paws.

“Ganon!” he called sharply as he continued to run.

Another faint howl followed, this time a bit nearer. Varg grumbled and focused; his wolf had to do better than this.

Not many knew of how truly powerful he was in his wolf shape. With the passing of years, he had found that his powers continued to grow, while others’ stayed the same. He could blame it on a whim of fate and hadn’t spoken about it to many. He had used it to protect his pack and others, but he didn’t tell other shifters as he didn’t want to raise envy and other dark feelings in their hearts.

Still, he suspected that some had guessed that he was no ordinary wolfshifter.

He reached a glade where the scent of his pack was the strongest, and then his eyes found what they were looking for. From behind a large bush, Ganon walked in his wolf shape, dragging one limb after him.

“Ganon, what happened to you?” Varg hurried to him. He shifted right away and felt Ganon’s leg.

“Varg, you’re here,” Ganon mumbled. “I thought we’d never see you again.”

“What words are these? I didn’t leave never to come back.”

“It’s not because of that.” Ganon pointed with his muzzle to a point behind him.

Varg straightened up and walked behind the bushes, with Ganon limping after him. What he saw filled him with dread.

Before him, the pride of his pack lay on the ground. The strongest wolves he knew were there, limbs broken and oozing wounds. Ganon appeared to be in the best shape among them. Varg raised his eyes to the sky and howled.

***

“What could have happened?” Toru asked, his heart as small as a needle.

He had seen destruction before, such as when he had witnessed the orc horde pillaging that village, but he had taken it as part of life.

Now, it wasn’t so easy to do the same. He hadn’t gotten to know too many of the people there, and Varg and Duril had followed him on his quest. But he still cared about Rory, the young innkeeper, and even about the old witch.

And the people were not all bad. The mayor liked long speeches, but the food was good. Toru hurried down the hill, with Duril hanging on his back.

“I don’t know, but we must look for survivors,” Duril said with determination. “We’ll learn from them what happened here.”

Toru wanted to share Duril’s faith in finding anyone alive. But as they drew nearer, that hope was growing slimmer and slimmer.

The buildings had been burnt to the ground, and an ominous wind whispered through the ruins.

TBC

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