Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 33 (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 / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty / Chapter Twenty-One / Chapter Twenty-Two / Chapter Twenty-Three / Chapter Twenty-Four / Chapter Twenty-Five / Chapter Twenty-Six / Chapter Twenty-Seven / Chapter Twenty-Eight / Chapter Twenty-Nine / Chapter Thirty / Chapter Thirty-One / Chapter Thirty-Two 

Chapter Thirty-Three – Your Heart Is Whole

He focused on that single thing, the gentle voice in his mind belonging to the old man who had seen through the enemy’s deceit that one time, even without eyes to see. There had to be something real even in that nightmare, and he only had to find it. If Torgar’s voice was there, inside his mind, it meant that there were forces at play acting in his favor, even if Hekastfet had conjured that dark forest from memories they shared.

That time, Hekastfet hadn’t been able to defeat him, even as a little boy with no knowledge of wars and real evil. And now that stain of tar believed that he would be able to do so now, when he was big and strong?

“You have no power,” Toru said out loud. “You use tricks such as summoning a ghost of my friend, so that I would believe you.”

“Yes, yes, it is a ghost, and not your friend,” Hekastfet hurried to confirm. “You are all alone, Toru, and not one single soul in the world cares about you. Why should you fight for them?”

Toru frowned as he started to think hard. If Hekastfet didn’t deny that Varg was a ghost he fabricated, didn’t it mean the opposite was true? But if he admitted that, wasn’t he putting Varg in danger?

He decided to keep silent and continue to focus on the memory from that time long ago. If Torgar’s voice was there, it had to be for a reason, something seeking to create a thread between him and a world that mattered.

“Who are you fighting for, Toru?” Hekastfet continued to taunt him. “For people who don’t want you among them? For them, you are nothing but a beast. Remember the place where you grew up after I killed both your parents and destroyed their tribes.”

“Stop telling him your lies. Do not believe what he says, Toru,” Varg called from his place.

“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you, and it will be forever,” Hekastfet barked at the wolfshifter.

Hurt could be different, Toru knew. There was pain when he hurt a paw or when he had to endure hunger, but there was another kind, the kind that threatened to engulf him whole, without letting him breathe.

Torgar,he called out in his mind, please help me.

No one would ever know how he cried for help, no one but Torgar, and he was long dead. Toru fought the dark spirit moving like an eel inside his mind. Even if Torgar couldn’t be present, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t help him. After all that had happened since he had entered Whitekeep, believing something like that was possible.

Young tiger.

The voice in his mind was gentle and quiet. Toru kept his eyes closed only so that he didn’t end up losing it.

Young tiger.

It was another voice, but Toru recognized it. Is that you, Demophios, the wise snake?

You’re calling me wise now. The voice even laughed.

Another, more sonorous and ancient, joined them. Young tiger.

It sounded like a means to address him and focus his mind.

I am Amaranth, if you remember me.

I do,Toru confirmed.

Just listen to us. Do not let Hekastfet get to you in any way. We can protect you since you opened your heart to us. That was Demophios, advising him as he had used to.

“I can see that you intend to ignore me,” Hekastfet hissed. “I will destroy your friend right here, in front of you. I have no qualms in sending him to the pits of hell.”

“Are you forgetting that he’s just one of your ugly creations?” Toru decided to tell that evil being a thing or two.

Toru, pay him no mind, Demophios advised sternly.

He’s just very annoying, Toru pointed out. He’s just trying to fool me, with one of his many ghosts. But I know better. That phantasm is not Varg. Is it?

The silence that followed his question didn’t bode well. Toru felt his confidence wavering. Is it Varg? Is it truly him? Demophios?

We cannot lie to you. That was Torgar speaking.

Unfortunately, Demophios added.

The young tiger’s heart is whole, Amaranth intervened. And we don’t fear the truth. Yes, Toru, that is your friend. He came for you through the blasted veil of darkness Hekastfet threw over your eyes.

Toru didn’t listen further. His eyes snapped open and he hurried toward Varg. He shifted into his human and hugged him tightly. “I know it’s you,” he said, his eyes and heart filled with happiness.

“Finally,” Hekastfet shouted, “I have you where I wanted!”

Toru didn’t have time to do anything, as the tar Hekastfet was made of lunged at Varg and covered him head to toes, pulling him away. “No, Varg,” he cried out, but the shape of his friend was overcome quickly and turned into a pile of bones at his feet.

“Do you see my power now?”

Toru growled and attacked blindly, even though he was no longer in his tiger form.

“You are a weakling. The human in you is underfed and weak,” Hekastfet taunted him. “You’ve never liked your human, have you, Toru? Then become who you were always meant to be. A savage beast.”

The insult rippled through him like a pebble thrown into a lake. “Savage beast?” he roared. “I’ll show you how much of a savage beast I can be. Show your face, and I’ll destroy you.”

“Very well,” Hekastfet said with satisfaction. “What do you say about this face?”

Toru stopped with his fists raised just as a vision of his mother materialized in front of him.

“Toru, my child, come to my bosom,” she said in a sugary voice.

Toru steeled himself and cut through the vision, making it disappear. “Mother was always tough, not one to cuddle me too much,” he said through his teeth.

Hekastfet moved its dark matter over the ground, away from Toru’s path, and grew into Aneros’ majestic shape next. “Are you going to go against your father, like a savage beast, Toru?”

“Stop playing this stupid game,” Toru bellowed. “I know you can take any face you want, but that will not convince me that you’re any of them.”

“But you do miss them, Toru,” Hekastfet cooed in a false soothing voice. “You miss them, and you would do anything to have them by your side again. How about him?”

Toru stopped abruptly as Hekastfet turned into Duril, sweet sweet Duril, looking at him with loving eyes. “Get out of my face,” he growled, but his resolve was shaking now.

Don’t look at him, Demophios advised sternly from the back of his mind.

You know he isn’t real, Torgar added.

You’re wiser than this, Amaranth came to his aid, as well.

But the pull to look into Duril’s eyes, even if they didn’t truly belong to him, was too great. He turned his head and stood there, mesmerized.

“I missed you, Toru,” Duril said softly. “Didn’t you miss me?”

***

Varg fought against soft branches coiled around his body, pulling him down. It felt as if he were underground, but when fighting an evil like Hekastfet, who knew what was what? He needed to shed these restraints and pull himself up to the surface once more, so that he could be there for Toru and help him resist whatever temptations, of the sweetest or the most bitter kind, Hekastfet was trying to place in his path.

Master wolf, a voice called for him from the darkness.

Who’s there? His question lingered in his mind, just like the voice. He could swear he knew it somehow, but he couldn’t tell how or from where.

Demophios, the voice replied, this time more sternly. Toru needs your help, now more than ever.

As you can see, I’m a bit tied up right now.

A good joke, given the circumstances. I will help you pull yourself up, but you must make an effort.

The ancient snake had a sense of humor, as strange as that was. I’m putting in quite the effort already, if I must say. How about a little less encouragement by mouth, and a little more magic to help me out of this predicament?

The branches began to loosen their hold, and Varg felt his body becoming lighter. However, he instinctively knew that he had to be in control so he tensed his muscles, concentrating his entire attention on being in charge. Thanks for the help.

That was Amaranth, not me.

You two are together? I suppose that there’s nothing for me to fear then.

If only.

You are ancient powerful beings, Varg pointed out, a little bit uneasy by that denial coming from Demophios. He didn’t wonder how the wise snake had managed to come from the depths of the desert, and it wasn’t the right moment to ask.

And you are the tough spirit that refused to bend to Hekastfet’s will.

The third voice belonged to someone he didn’t recognize. And you are? He asked, determined to know all his allies well, given the importance of his quest.

You don’t know me, and yet you do, the third voice replied in an enigmatic fashion.

While I appreciate all the help you intend to give me, I’d rather you keep your riddles to yourself for the time being. Later, I’d be more than happy to indulge you.

Master wolf, you are, indeed, wise. Very well. The name of my manifestation in the world is Torgar. What we need from you is the marvel that your mere presence here is.

What do you need me to do? Varg replied with another question while he was getting hold of himself more and more. Whatever magic those three were wielding, without a doubt, it was quite powerful, and he only needed to give himself a push.

Convince Toru that he mustn’t believe what Hekastfet is showing him as being true. As we speak, he has fallen under a spell. Demophios appeared to be the most talkative of the three ancient beings, but Varg was aware that it had to be Amaranth’s strength behind pushing away the branches from his body, freeing him.

A spell? Tell me more so that I can succeed.

He made the mistake of opening his eyes and taking in the phantasm well prepared for him by Hekastfet. Demophios explained everything in an even tone, as if the fate of the world didn’t hang in the balance. Pull him away from that ghost, and he will become free. Then, he will defeat Hekastfet forever.

Without destroying Scercendusa, Varg insisted. He had fought so hard to save a few, and his heart bled just as much at the thought of all those bodies, lifeless in the streets, awaiting no other fate than to rot under the sun that would surely rise.

Yes.

Any other useful advice for me? Varg asked.

Use both your wisdom and your heart, master wolf, Torgar said. Remind Toru of the morning waiting for him on the other side. That is the most important thing, no matter what his heart might tell him right now, ensnared as it is in the web of lies and deceit created by Hekastfet.

Varg didn’t ask anything else. If Toru’s fate rested upon his shoulders, then he would rise to the occasion and hold it, no matter how heavy, until the order of the world was restored.

***

“Is this a dream?” Toru asked. He searched his lover’s face for any signs of injuries. “He told me you died.”

“Who told you that?” Duril asked and his smile filled a world and became its sun.

“I don’t remember,” Toru admitted, and he didn’t care who had. Whoever it had been, they had to be liars. Duril was alive and well, smiling at him with both his mouth and his eyes. And he was opening his arm, ready to welcome him after their time apart.

“Come to me. You’ve been away too long. We’ll live forever, happy and by ourselves.”

“What about the others?” Toru asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Duril’s face frowned in thought. “There is no one but us in the entire world. We’re together, Toru. And no one can pull us apart like they tried to do.”

“Who did?” Toru didn’t remember much, and his mind was like a restless bird, trying to get out of its cage.

“A mean wolf. And a mean bear.” Duril sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was tired.

“Some savage beasts?” Toru asked. He disliked savage beasts and he wasn’t one of them.

“Yes, you can call them that. Now, come into my embrace, and I’ll show you a world like you’ve never seen before.”

Toru took a step forward, the biggest part of him pulling him toward his beloved companion. But there was still one, a small patch of heart that pulled him back, for no reason. Duril’s eyes were filled with love, like usual, and they were calling for him, so why was he hesitating? He stretched out one hand to touch Duril.

“Watch out, Toru!” Someone shouted, and soon Toru found himself tumbling down to the ground.

Whoever had just pushed him away from Duril was heavy and hairy. Toru fought against his hold, decided that no one would ever stand between him and his sweet lover ever again.

“Toru, it’s me, stop fighting!”

Toru pushed against his attacker with so much force that he managed to send him flying through the air. This intruder needed to be put in his place and for good, just so that Toru could get back to Duril and the world he had promised him. To finish things fast, he needed to be in his tiger’s skin, so he shifted without a second thought.

His attacker looked like a human, so it should be easy to defeat him. Toru lunged toward him.

“Kitty,” the human growled, and then shifted under his very eyes.

Toru roared at the sight. “Mean wolf,” he growled and barred his fangs.

***

Varg hadn’t expected it to be easy, but to be called a mean wolf by Toru was a bit too much. That, and of course, how the young tiger attacked him, all naked claws and fangs, obviously bent on hurting him. He dashed out of the way, not wanting to be at the receiving end of those sharp things, and he was thankful for his wolf that, despite his age, could still dodge an attack like that.

“You’re a mean wolf and you took Duril away from me,” Toru growled.

“How did I do such a thing?” Varg asked, while he continued to evade Toru’s vicious attacks.

“You tried to tear us apart,” Toru bellowed at him.

He seemed incensed by things that were not clear, so Varg decided that it would serve first to discover what that frenzied attack was all about. “Duril is not here, Toru.”

“Don’t speak his name or mine so easily, you savage beast!”

“Savage beast? You’re behaving like one, for sure.”

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say to a maddened tiger. Toru grazed his hide this time around, and Varg felt pain blossoming where the sharp claws had cut through his otherwise thick skin. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know who I am?”

“You’re a savage beast who wants to keep Duril away from me,” Toru continued to shout and chase him.

That had to be a lie that Hekastfet was telling him. Varg felt more determined than ever to destroy the veil of deceit the evil was casting over Toru’s eyes. “I’m Varg. Don’t you remember my name?”

“I don’t care about the names of beasts,” Toru growled.

So, somehow, Hekastfet had managed to hide Toru’s memories of Varg, and probably, not only. Sometimes, the strategy of tough love was necessary, so Varg decided not to run anymore. He stopped and faced Toru abruptly, so they ended up tangled together in a strange embrace.

Toru moved his head wildly, determined to hurt him, but Varg had seen all the tricks already. He dodged swiftly and caught hold of one of Toru’s ears, biting it bloody until he made the tiger howl in pain.

He let him go and took several steps back. “Does it hurt?” he asked, taunting for effect.

“It does, you vile beast,” Toru complained.

While taking away his memories, Hekastfet must have left Toru as simple as a child, if his behavior and manner of speech were any indications. That was something Varg could use, and he very much intended to do so. “Then summon your healer, have him tend to your wounds.”

Toru was trying to get rid of the pain in his ear by licking his paw and then running it over the bite, but Varg knew for a fact that even a strong shapeshifter would feel the pain after an attack like that. It was the same thing he used on the youngsters of his pack when he wanted to teach them a lesson and have them hurt for a bit so they would remember the lesson even much later in life. They always healed well and fast, but the memory of that sharp pain remained, along with a lesson learned.

***

What was that savage beast saying? That he needed to ask Duril to heal him? It had to be a magical savage beast, because Toru, who knew that he never needed healers, still felt the pain, and it didn’t want to go away. Still, a kiss from his sweet Duril had to be enough to put him back on his feet and launch another attack against that vile being.

“Duril, Duril,” he called out, “I’m hurt.” He would show that mean wolf how much he and Duril cared for each other. The wolf probably didn’t have anyone, and that was why he was so mean.

“You must kill the wolf,” Duril said.

Toru frowned and stared at the healer. His eyes didn’t look luminous and kind, as they always did.

“Do you love me?” Duril continued, his gaze intense and scary.

“I do,” Toru replied.

“Then stop crying over a little bite and destroy our enemy. Can’t you see that he’s trying to tear us apart again?”

The mean wolf could attack him at any moment once more, and Toru didn’t want to feel the same pain again. “You’re a healer,” he insisted. “You can heal me.”

Duril crossed his arm over his chest. “You’re a tigershifter. Do you really expect me to believe that my potions and herbs are better than your natural ability to heal? I have yet to hear something sillier than that.”

Toru didn’t like that at all. Duril didn’t want to heal him, and he was in pain. How could he be so cruel? And how could Toru tell him that the pain in his ear didn’t want to go away? Suddenly, he felt in the mood to whine. “But it really hurts,” he complained stubbornly.

“Heal yourself. You know you can,” Duril pointed out.

“Why are you so mean?” Toru complained.

“Because he’s not who you think he is,” the wolf said as he approached. “Hekastfet is trying to play tricks on your mind, Toru. Don’t believe this phantasm. He’s not our Duril.”

“Our? Duril is mine!” Toru rubbed at his ear helplessly. “Duril, heal me and show the mean wolf that you love me!”

“I would like to see that, as well,” the wolf said.

***

Varg was well aware that the ruse he had concocted wouldn’t last long. Toru’s healing power would soon start to manifest, and then he would be disarmed. However, Toru’s lack of patience served them under the circumstances. Without a doubt, Hekastfet must have thought that he would render Toru powerless if he attacked his mind and soul in that despicable manner, but couldn’t foresee the consequences of those actions.

“I don’t believe that you two even love each other,” he continued, trying to keep his voice steady despite the race against time threatening to overcome his intentions of waking Toru up from the deceit orchestrated by Hekastfet. “I will back out if this phantasm kisses you like Duril does.”

“Duril, kiss me. Let’s show the wolf,” Toru implored.

The ghost threw Varg a mean look, filled with hatred, but smiled as it walked toward the young tiger and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

Toru started as soon as the ghost moved away. Varg could see it for what it was, just a shimmering picture of Duril, without substance. It wasn’t the same for Toru, without a doubt.

However, the tiger seemed startled by something and began to pull away from the ghost. “Your lips are cold and you smell bad,” he complained.

“You’re just imagining that. How can you say such mean words to me?” the phantasm insisted.

“Toru, you’ve just seen this ghost for what it is. It’s not Duril.”

“Where is Duril? Where is he?” Toru asked and began to pace, while trying to keep as far from the phantasm as he could.

That wasn’t a question Varg had expected, and he should have. He cursed under his breath and his heart filled with sorrow, as he let his head hang low.

The ghost let out a shriek that slowly turned into laughter. “Your Duril is nowhere,” it hissed. “He’s dead. Just ask the wolf. He knows.”

Toru turned toward Varg and implored him with worried eyes. Varg knew he could just go ahead and lie, but what truths were ever built on such shaky foundations? He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Toru. I couldn’t protect him. And Claw. And all the others. I failed.”

The ghost shrieked in delight some more. “Do you hear him, stupid tiger? Everyone’s dead!”

Toru let out a distressed growl and turned away. Before Varg could stop him, he broke into a run through the dark forest.

Varg started after him, and the ghost followed with its banshee cries.

***

They were following him. They were there, almost ready to catch him, and he had to run and run and run. Duril was dead, and everyone else. The wolf had said as much, and he didn’t seem to lie, although Toru didn’t always know when people told the truth, and when they lied. But he knew, he somehow knew, that it was real. There was nothing else for him to do but run.

“Toru!” someone called loudly from behind.

He didn’t look. The world was nothing but a mean, hard place and no one was left to care for him.

“Please, wait for me!” the same voice called.

It belonged to the mean wolf, but he didn’t sound mean, although he had bitten Toru’s ear so badly. No, he wouldn’t let himself be fooled again, after his Duril had turned out to be nothing but a lie.

Along with the wolf, the shadows followed, as well. Before him, a night without end opened. Toru wanted to go beyond it, to save what remained to be saved from his heart.

You have no one left, the shadows whispered in his ear. Why not stop running? We could be your friends.

“No, leave me alone,” he cried out.

“I’ll never leave you alone,” the wolf replied instead.

The ghosts were only talking to him, it seemed, and the wolf couldn’t hear them. But Toru was fearful of him, too, so it didn’t matter that there was that kind of misunderstanding.

***

He shouted as loudly as he could, and ran as fast as his legs allowed him, but Varg knew that it wasn’t going to be enough, not if he wanted to protect Toru, the only one he had left in the world. Even if the Sakka believed that Toru could reverse all this tragedy somehow, for Varg it didn’t matter. To him, Toru could be nothing but himself, not a hero, not a savior of worlds, and he would still matter. He would matter more than anything.

A sharp pain in his right side took him by surprise. What, he couldn’t even run after a young tiger now without his body giving up on him? He ground his teeth and pushed himself to run faster, but the pain was harsher now, and only then did he realize that it was something coming from outside causing it. In his current state of mind, he didn’t care about anything else save for catching up with Toru, and he hadn’t realized, for a moment, that he was being attacked.

The ghosts that had given chase the moment Toru had broken into his run weren’t just shadows, apparently. They had sharp claws that went through Varg’s side, and soon others joined the attack, as well.

He stumbled and forced himself up again. There was no time for him to waste fighting against these creatures, he might not even be able to win. But pushing through the pain became harder and harder, fresh new wounds opening in his flanks and other parts of his body.

A bite through his right hind leg slowed his run to a crawl. Calling out for Toru was all he could do, and it was something he did with tears in his eyes.

The tiger slowed and stopped. He looked back, and their eyes met while the ghosts overcame Varg with their hundreds of sharp teeth and claws.

***

He should keep on running, but something in the plea voiced by the wolf made him stop. Those ugly shadows were all over him, biting and clawing him, and Toru felt remorse at not stopping sooner. Even if he was a mean wolf, he didn’t deserve that fate. And he was a tiger; he wasn’t a coward, and his parents hadn’t raised him to be a coward, either.

His tipped his head back, then he let out a roar and rushed toward the fallen wolf. He slashed and dashed through the shadows and they began falling at his feet, quickly turning into dark puddles. He hovered and stared at the badly beaten wolf. “Are you alive?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The wolf opened his eyes. “I am. Thanks to you, Toru.”

“Why are you following me? I don’t need you.”

“But I need you,” the wolf replied. “You’re the only one I have left.”

“But I don’t know you.”

The wolf’s eyelids fluttered. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember me. Just sit here with me for a while.”

Toru shifted into his human because he wanted to ease the wolf’s pain by touching his head. Even if he was not a healer, someone had once told him that showing others that you cared about their pain was sometimes enough. Who that someone was, he didn’t remember.

The wolf keened softly while Toru caressed his head, scratching him between the ears.

“You’re a shifter, right?” Toru asked. “Can’t you heal yourself?” He recalled how just earlier he hadn’t been able to heal his ear bitten by the wolf, but he didn’t want to bring it up.

“I think I lost some of my powers, if not all. I was supposed to catch you, you know?”

“I’m very fast,” Toru assured him. “No one catches me.”

“It looks like it,” the wolf admitted. “Where were you running?”

That was a difficult question. Toru didn’t know very well how to reply. “I don’t like it here.” He was whining, and tigers didn’t whine, but this wolf looked like he wouldn’t scold him or say anything even if he did. “I want…”

Why was it so hard to put everything into words? Maybe he still had a lot to learn.

“Don’t strain yourself if you cannot say it. I’m glad, Toru.”

“You are? But you are so badly hurt.”

“Your caress is enough for me. I’m glad because I see that you’re strong, and that your heart is whole.”

“What does that mean?” Could it be that the wolf was feverish and said words that made no sense? Sometimes, hurt people did that. Even shifters, it seemed.

“You’ll be all right,” the wolf assured him. “That is what it means.”

Toru leaned over the wolf and tried to hold his eyelids up with his fingers. It didn’t work. The wolf was fading, and Toru found himself dismayed and unsettled by it. For no known reason, he pulled the wolf into his arms and began crying.

“Don’t cry, kitty,” the wolf said softly.

“I’m not,” Toru protested. “Why would I cry for you? I don’t even know you.”

“That makes it worth all the more, that you cry for me even if you believe I’m a stranger.”

“Don’t leave,” Toru heard himself pleading.

“You’ll be all right,” the wolf repeated his words from before. “There will always be a new morning, waiting for you on the other side.”

“Morning?”

The wolf made less and less sense, and Toru didn’t understand. He didn’t understand anything, save for wanting this mean wolf to stay with him.

“Yes. Something a wise man told me to tell you. Although, I don’t know if he’s a man. His name is Torgar. And maybe you don’t remember them, but Demophios and Amaranth both want you to remember the same.”

Toru shook his head. The wolf went limp in his arms, and then Toru burst into tears.

He cried and cried until his eyes hurt, clutching the inert body he was holding tightly. He opened them, trying to stave off the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, and then he realized why his eyes were hurting.

Above his head, a new day broke, and the rays of the sun cast their light over him. He looked up, to defy the celestial body in the sky, and then, he remembered everything.

“Varg!” he shouted, shaking the wolf.

He ran his hands over the wolf’s body, his heart in his throat. He couldn’t be dead, no, he just couldn’t.

“Kitty, stop tickling me already.”

The happiness that washed over him was more than all the pain from before.

TBC

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