“Hello mother, father.” Brynjar greeted his parents as they stepped out onto the surface of Islimore.
It was the first time either of them had stepped foot on the lands of their ancestors, though they were far from where their ancestors called home, it was the closest they had been in centuries. Brynjar had gathered his growing clan members, around 50 Lupo, mostly Kaiha but that didn’t bother Brynjar personally. It was the most they had ever had in their clan since they abandoned Islimore. In fact, it was because of Brynjar’s hard work with the people that they had even gotten a chance to grow. Those who joined that were pure blooded had been either lost too much on the road North or no longer had a family and Brynjar had welcomed them, adopted them into his clan. It wasn’t many, not in comparison to many clans especially around the North, but the number wasn’t an issue for Brynjar. Not any more, he knew his people were strong, he taught them how to fight. How to build. How to live.
Because he wanted them to prosper in times of peace and not just war.
As his clan members stood behind him, bowing in greeting to their leader’s parents, he could see his parents sniffing the air. Assessing their blood lines, their worthiness of being Clan Threist. The sneers from both that followed demonstrated to Brynjar the disappointment that they felt in the people that he had been able to bring into their clan. Tainting the line was something he knew they would be attempting to frame it as. Even though these were not heirs or necessarily people who would be the next Alphas, it was still a taint on the family name in his parents mind.
“I will escort my parents alone, you best get back to training and forging weapons. Need to hone your skills and imbue your powers into your blades as I have shown you.” Brynjar instructed his clan members who looked at him, nodding their heads before leaving. His gaze returned to his parents, “your expressions demonstrate your displeasure with my clan, but these people are strong, capable warriors who will bring us honour.”
His father, a man who matched Brynjar’s physique and even in his elder years looked a hulking figure, took a firm step towards the Alpha, “you allow lesser beings to join our clan, to weaken us and you can’t even claim the title of Anasi from a small woman.” His father’s voice a deep, throaty growl, Brynjar would always think it sounded like the coming of a storm. The thunder to what made his mother lightning.
A sharp, bright and deadly woman.
“Not only did you fail to claim Anasi, but you failed to bed the woman as your own. To be her mate would have sufficed and brought us here in more cheerful moods. But your failures to do that demonstrate our teachings were not harsh enough.” His mother interjected as she pulled the thick cloak around her more to keep out the chill of the North from biting her.
His parents came out swinging at Brynjar, criticising not only his choice in clan members but his failings in seducing Aelin or just taking the title of Anasi when he held the chance. Brynjar breathed in deeply since he knew there was nothing he could say nor would be able to argue that would be sufficient in a suitable defence. His mother would always find a way to work him up and cause him to lose his temper and therefore their argument. At least, that was always how she framed it. For now, he walked silently towards the tents that had been constructed to house his parents. Nothing luxurious but they were not capable of doing that in the North, the resources were needed elsewhere. These were not homes that were going to be permanent, therefore Brynjar did not put effort into building homes that were permanent structures. Especially not without the permission of Dorian.
“An advisor is all you have achieved since leaving our home. You have failed to demonstrate any achievement of note for the role of Alpha. Who remembers the advisor to the Anasa who defeated the humans? No one!” His mother continued in her tirade, “you condemn us to being merely footnotes, if we even achieve that! Clan Threist will end with you as Alpha who achieved nothing!”
He looked down at his axe, Medelwr; he was the only member of Clan Threist to locate the axe and restore it to full power once more. Not only that, but he located the burial site of their ancestor, Glwyn and saw the future of what he would be like as leader. The type of leader he would be under his parents’ thumb. It was that vision and the conversation with the spirit of Glwyn afterwards that drove the wedge between him and his parents. They were the ones so willing to condemn their people for the tiniest bit of recognition. However, he said none of this, for it didn’t matter what he said nor did it matter what he believed. They were blinded on their path and his words would never change that.
“And what are the goals of this Anasa? Supposedly of Clan Svard blood…” There was disbelief in the tone of his mother, she clearly did not believe in Aelin’s origins, Brynjar knew that she felt it was all too convenient that the small, otherwise insignificant Lupo was apparently be the descendant of their great leaders. Brynjar knew it was a fact, the way that Aelin led, bonded with people, it was natural and it was deep, it was something only a person who was born to lead and free their people was able to do.
Brynjar sighed, then looked to them, “she is organising our people to war. We are preparing to stand against the Fayth and the humans who work with them. There are several areas we are planning to strike, Clan Threist will be leading one of these strikes as well.” He informed his parents, as the meeting had been open to all who wished to observe the Alphas discuss their plans so he felt no need to refrain from telling his parents what they were doing next.
“Hmph, that lot of rabble will die right away.” His father gruffed, “your attempts of training them were clearly not the methods I imbued into you. Seems Islimore has dulled your skills and not sharpened them.”
“I have trained them in the ways I deemed suitable as the Alpha of Clan Threist.” Brynjar stated in a sharp tone, his first words against his parents face to face, “they are fine warriors and will do well for our people in this war. They will be even more successful in the recovery and era of peace afterwards.”
His parents both snorted haughtily since they held no beliefs in that. It was their short-sightedness that blinded them from the truth of the matter. It wasn’t about who led them to victory nor did it matter who was remembered in the history books. What mattered was that there were Lupo in the distant future to know that these things happened and that they survived the extinction attempt by humans.
It was something that he knew that he couldn’t share with his parents, they did not understand that Brynjar was not looking at the short term goals, but praying that the Lupo could exist to enact the long term goals he wished them to achieve. Giving his own clan everything he could for that chance to exist. It was important to Brynjar that his clan understood that after this war, there will be a need for builders, healers, those who are willing to repair the damages to every Lupos body, heart and mind. That was why the axe was so important. It was the reason their weapon of choice as a clan was the axe, why they were focused on being peacekeepers throughout history. Clan Threist was never about warring or killing, as much as some only saw Brynjar that way.
“This is your tent, mother, father.” Brynjar gestured to the large tent that had been made in their honour, “I am required for the next hunt, so we can talk more about the various ways you see me as a failure afterwards.” His words were heavy in sadness, he was bitterly disappointed that they still did not see him as worthy.
His parents said nothing to correct or change his words, instead they moved into the tent and left Brynjar alone. Breathing in deeply, he ignored the pangs of hurt and rejection. They were feelings that were old to him by now, he was used to feeling this way. Especially from them. Instead, he wandered away from their tent to join the hunting party he had agreed to take part with.
After the hunting party had brought back the spoils of their hunt, not much but enough to keep the Southern Lupo fed for a day or so, Brynjar was carrying most of the kill and placed it for those wishing to cook and prepare the meat to begin their butchering. He left them to it and spotted his parents, they were talking with members of his clan, it seemed that they were in deep conversation but it was good to see them actually acknowledging the other Lupo. He was glad that they were taking steps to integrate the others.
Leaving them to converse, Brynjar headed to his own tent. There was much that he needed to do on his own. He was deciding to write his way of being an Alpha, his philosophy and ideology, what the intentions of the clan were for the next Alpha. Whether that be someone soon or not for another hundred years or more. It was important for Brynjar to write these things down, seeing what his ancestors had written hundreds of years ago, they had helped form the Alpha that he was now. One that could be a better person and a person more capable of leading. So, this was a guide to his successor.
It was more important now, seeing his parents, so that his successor avoided the traps and ill-formed ways that his parents had attempted to instil into him as leader.
Sitting at the desk, his mind thought of what he was seeking to write next. It was hard to ensure that his notes flowed and moved with the grace of a winding river. Perhaps it would be best to simply note everything down then sort them out after the fact, but that seemed messy and risky for none of his writings to flow. He scratched his cheek, his eyes staring at the pages of his previous writings. Things that covered how to teach members of the clan, the focus of the clan being peacekeeping, restoring strength and building foundations for a stable society, that seeking glory and fame was not the way of Clan Threist. To never be recalled in history was not the greatest of tragedies, it was more important that there was a peaceful society of Lupo to recall history.
He knew that he needed to discuss the legacy of Clan Threist from Glwyn to himself as well as noting the importance of having Medelwr and Heddwch, axes that were weapons of war but tools for peace. The clan must have means to fight, but they must have the ability to work in times of peace, ways of ensuring it as well. While Aelin still held onto Heddwch, a gift he was never daring to take back, he assumed she would return it to his clan after her passing. However, he should make note that if Aelin wished to keep Heddwch in her family then that was her right since the axe bonded their families. Perhaps not the bond Brynjar had wished for, but one he had long since accepted.
While he was thinking of the next portion of his notes to write down, he heard his father approaching. Looking to the entrance of the tent, he tilted his head in surprise, he did not expect his father to be coming to him. “Enter, father.” He called out.
“Glad that you are still willing to see me after the awkwardness of our arrival,” his father commented, there was a warmth in his smile to Brynjar, something that gladdened Lupo, he had been afraid that his parents would never move past his failures.
“Of course father, we are still blood, I would never reject that bond between us.” Brynjar stated, returning the smile with one of his own.
Nodding his head, his father looked around the room, “it seems that your new members of Clan Threist hold you in great esteem. I was mistaken in thinking you were not doing our name proudly. Especially since you do carry with you Medelwr, though I see you adjusted the style of the axe.”
“I forged it into the style of axe I prefer, since it needed to be reforged either way.” He was hesitant to mention that it was only half of a pair, but he thought it would be better to leave that matter for another day. For now, he wanted to just enjoy the pleasantness from his father.
“Means you can use a shield. And makes it a throwable weapon as well, I see the appeal,” his father commented, talking fighting strategies had always been something the two of them could bond over. “You’ll have to show me what you have learnt to do with the axe. I hear it can do some legendary feats in your hands.”
Brynjar nodded his head in agreement, he had been able to pull off some feats with the axes that no others could do unless they were bonded with the axe. Like he had shown Aelin to do with Heddwch.
“Well, I was thinking that you could take your mother and myself on a walk around the surrounding areas, show us where we are and talk about what are your plans for the clan.” He nodded to the notes that Brynjar was working on, “seems you have some thoughts already put to pen and paper so be good to hear them.”
“Of course, tomorrow morning? Daybreak?” Brynjar suggested.
His father nodded his head in agreement, it was set and his father gestured a goodnight, “best I get some sleep ahead of the meeting then.”
With his father gone, Brynjar smiled and felt his heart racing. It was good to see his parents being so accepting of things now that they were here in person. There were likely some things that needed to be sorted, crossed wires that needed to be untangled but Brynjar was hopeful from that brief encounter that things would settle. He just needed to work out a convincing strategy to win his parents over.
Waking up, Brynjar was in high spirits. He felt sure that talking with his parents and guiding them in the direction that he sought to expand the clan would ease their criticisms and worries. He knew it was going to be a tough sell, and that he never wished to be Anasi would be something they would struggle with initially but he felt confident that his ideas were grounded in tradition and the Clan Threist way.
He looked around and the stillness of the air was refreshing from the usual buzz of activity that normally stirred in the mornings. Perhaps people were taking a lie in, relaxing now that the stress of his parents’ arrival had been overcome. Brynjar was glad to see it, it meant that he was doing well to relax everyone that evening after meeting his father. He had prepared for some to be unsure and to think poorly of his parents, especially with how judgemental and harsh they could be, but things smoothed over well.
His parents had been asking about recent affairs and the ongoings of the clans and plans, it seemed there was a genuine interest from his parents about the recent events according to some who had informed Brynjar. He had worried at first when some had mentioned there were specific enquiries about Aelin and the feelings his clan members had for her being Anasa, but his people reassured him they still believed in her.
In the same way that they trusted and believed in Brynjar.
He arrived at the meeting point for his parents, eager to show them the beauty of Islimore, the stunning views and fantastic feelings of being a wolf in these woods. It was something that the other planets just didn’t have, that was Brynjar’s opinion at least.
Waiting patiently, he spotted his parents approaching, they were silently talking with one another. Clearly preparing for something to happen from the full armour his mother was wearing and the traditional warrior armour his father wore. It was strange since Brynjar hadn’t planned on taking them anywhere dangerous but he figured that they were being prepared and cautious for whatever may lay out there. Could also be that they wanted to see Brynjar’s skills in combat once more, a little sparring session which could be fun. It had been awhile since he had been able to test his skills against a formidable opponent like his parents.
“Good morning,” Brynjar greeted in warmth, the chill of the morning air caused his breath to condense and appear as smoke as he spoke.
His parents nodded their heads in greeting, “we heard there was a clearing not too far from here in the woods, somewhere we could do some sparring.” His father mentioned, mirroring the thoughts that Brynjar held and washing his doubts away about what they could be up to.
“Of course! Not too far from here, but a good distance to avoid prying eyes and ears!” Brynjar agreed, leading the way forward, his heart alleviated at the notion that they simply wished to ensure Brynjar was still the fighter he was when he left their home.
They walked in silence, taking in the snowy morning bliss, the chill of the air, crunching of the snow under their feet as well as the stirring of nature in the wintery morning gaze. It took them a while to finally find the clearing that they had discussed but when they arrived, there were stirrings of people. A crowd had gathered at the clearing and were shifting to gaze upon the three entering the clearing; from their scents, it was exclusively members of Clan Threist. Something that Brynjar found even more puzzling. Were they here to observe the sparring match? To see how two highly skilled warriors fought? It would make sense but how did they know about where to go and when to arrive?
Did his parents plan this from the start? Why be so secretive about it? Brynjar would have been receptive to an open spar session to demonstrate the pitfalls two skilled fighters could face.
“This is not a training session for them, Brynjar.” His mother’s voice called out, as if she knew his thoughts already, “we come here in tradition. To challenge the unworthy Alpha of Clan Threist, your clan is gathered to see who is actually worthy of leading us.”
It was a ploy. From even the previous night, they had deceived and tricked him into believing they were willing to listen. But they refused to accept Brynjar as Alpha and now decided to take his leadership in front of the clan so there could be no excuses or doubts. It was conniving and quite clever. He had been blind to it all, and he would have remained so. “So, my words cannot sway you to abandon this? Accept the path we are on, the one our ancestors wished to follow and the one our rightful Anasa wishes to take?” His tone pleaded for this not to happen.
“Ah yes, the words of our ancestors. Words only you have read and heard of. Words that have never been spoken by any Threist for centuries.” It was clear that his mother was attempting to make his words seem false or biassed towards his own goals.
“The records remain in our homestead in the South. I swore to show them once we reclaimed the lands of our people.” Brynjar stated firmly.
“Or did you perhaps intend to fabricate them, create falsehoods for these loyal Lupo blindly follow, unable to counter since they do not hold the knowledge or history we do!” His father spat, “I saw you writing away last night, twisting our ancestors’ words into your own pathetic, weak willed beliefs!”
Brynjar stared in disbelief, his father twisting the truth so viciously into lies, “I… Those were written as guidance to the next Alpha, I made no claim of them being our ancestors’ words.” Brynjar attempted to state.
“Lies! I bring evidence of such deceit. Here are the true words of our ancestors.” His father held documents that Brynjar had never seen before, floating the papers to all those around them. Brynjar could see they were written by his parents and grandparents, not the words of Glwyn or those that followed his path but the Lupo that strayed from that way, the path that led into the infighting and near death of their clan.
“Those are not the words of Glwyn or his children. They are your words, and the words of my grandparents.” Brynjar stated, his breathing keeping calm for now.
“So you are calling your parents, your grandparents, liars? Betrayers of our clan’s way? If that is so, then why have you not exiled us?” His mother’s tone was poisonous as she attempted to add more doubt.
Brynjar stared her down, “just because you were guided down the wrong path, does not mean you can’t be redeemed.” His voice was simple but his mother glared at him with anger he had never seen in her before.
“Or perhaps that harlot of a so-called Anasa has guided you away from the path of truth and honour!” His mother accused as she stabbed her finger towards Brynjar.
His eyes darkened, they stepped too far. They could throw their accusations at Brynjar all they wanted, but they should never attempt the same with Aelin or anyone he considered a close friend, “do not call her that. Aelin has done more for our people than anyone, she is deserving of her title and has earned her place.” His voice dark, refusing to be crossed on this.
His mother’s eyes glinted darkly, she found his trigger and knew what she needed to do now, “an Anasa that had to sleep her way to gain the army she needed? That is what we heard at least, that she chose to bed the Northerner for his army, clearly seducing him the moment she arrived here.” His mother’s words were toxic and only further enraged Brynjar, “perhaps if you held a large army, your attempts would have proven more fruitful, child.”
“Aelin’s choice in mate, whomever it shall be,” while Aelin had spent the night with Dorian, and it was known gossip spent more than the single night with him in some fashion or another, nothing had been solidified between them publicly, “is her decision and hers alone. I cannot force her to be attracted to me and it is more than an army that drew her to Dorian.” His words were stated through gritted teeth, seething at what his mother was attempting to do.
He refused to cave into his anger now. He knew what his mother was doing. It was the same mental attacks she had done throughout his childhood.
“Of course child, of course,” her voice coy, cooing, as if he was a baby, “I am sure that there is plenty the Northerner can offer her that you cannot, and I am sure all the Alphas still respect you and that Aelin holds your advice and opinions in the highest of regards. Even after your attempts at courting were rejected.”
Brynjar knew where this was leading, he could see the path his mother was leading him and the fact that the meeting of the Alphas had demonstrated Gerwald’s continued public dislike of Brynjar.
“Gerwald retains the first impression he has of me, but I have abandoned all attempts to sway his thoughts and informed Aelin that working with him will be impossible if he continues his behaviour.” Brynjar stated. Unsure what he could change there.
“So, let’s get this right. The Anasa rejected you, the Alphas rejected you and your ways, and you expect us, your clan, to keep following you?” Ah, there was the final cruel twist, if he held no respect, no standing then he was a failure who did not deserve his title. It was a clever twist on his actions, his mother was always sharp to twist reality into what she wanted.
“Do not forget that he did not fight for the title of Anasi, he did not fight those who insulted him publicly, who is to say that he will fight for your honour, for your rights! Especially if he cannot fight for his own!” His father roared, cementing the fact that Brynjar was too weak to be Alpha.
Their words were blinding many of the clan, they held no true history of his ancestors, his parents were born into the clan and they should know just as much, if not more than Brynjar. His recent failures were very publicly noticed and it was clear he was not fighting to defend himself. A choice he made since fighting and killing Lupo only helped the humans in his mind.
“So son, fight me, let us see if you can kill any challenger who faces you or if you are as weak as you appear to be!” His father roared once more, unsheathing his greataxe. His father held it in one hand and stared Brynjar down.
Brynjar knew that this would mean a fight to the death, that his father would not surrender until he was dead. And then he knew he would have to kill his mother afterwards since she would challenge him. It would be the death of two Lupo and would guarantee nothing, it was wasteful in his opinion.
“This will do nothing but settle your ego, you would take this clan, abandon the war and continue to seek the title of Anasi once this war is over. The glory seeking, the hunger for a title, it is blinding you both.” Brynjar growled, his disappointment and hurt heavy in his voice.
“You destroyed Medelwr, forged two axes and gave one to your beloved Anasa. You surrendered our oldest heirloom to a harlot and betrayed our ancestry, all for naught! No grand gesture, no display of affection would turn her head to you and you continue to run around like a pup after her. You degrade yourself and this clan, you are no wolf but a dog leashed to a leader who humiliates you.” His mother’s words cut deep, it brought tears to his eyes to see how much his own parents despised him.
Taking Medelwr from his belt, he held it in his hand, “you truly hate me? Both of you are prepared to kill me for the right to be Alpha?” He lifted his head to look at them, to see them both eagerly nod their heads.
“Then I forfeit. I am not going to kill you to prove myself and you will never stop attempting to challenge me for the right to lead,” Brynjar resigned, there were mutterings about this, that Brynjar was surrendering the title of Alpha and no longer willing to lead Clan Threist, that he had given into his parents so easily that their words must hold some truth. It was bittersweet that those he earned the respect of had lost it all in him, in the swiftest of moments. His parents had their victory, but he refused to surrender one thing to them.
Taking Medelwr, he walked to a boulder, using all his strength, imbuing as much as he could with the Force. He buried the axe deep into the boulder. The noise was deafening as the hard, frozen rock was split open by Brynjar. He kept the axe inside the boulder before melding the frozen rock back into place, trapping the axe deep inside the stone with only the handle sticking out. “There, you want Medelwr, then attempt to pull it from the boulder.”
“You! You fiend! You have no right to do such things! Give us the axe right now boy!” His mother screeched, infuriated with his final act as Alpha. A noise that pleased Brynjar.
“It is there, for you to take, if you are worthy of the axe.” Brynjar stated in a cold tone, “I wish you luck parents, wherever you go.” He doubted that the clan would go back to Aelin and the North, not after it was made clear that his parents held the leadership with no respect.
With that, Brynjar, the Lupo of no Clan, left the clearing and headed back to the camp. He needed to inform Aelin of the changes to his status, and apologise for having to step down as her advisor. He knew it would not reflect well on her to have an advisor that was no longer Alpha and whose clan left before the war began. He was sure this was the stupidest and most incompetent that he had looked. He had let his parents take the clan he had grown and let them leave not long after offering them as an attack force. But he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t kill his parents and he couldn’t stand around waiting for their next challenge or assassination attempt. This was the best course of action he held, he just hoped that those with his parents would survive and not fall into the doctrination he had suffered by his parents’ hands.
As Brynjar reached the edge of the forest, he remembered barely two hours ago how he felt so hopeful, believing his parents had accepted him as Alpha finally. He sank to his knees, tears finally flowing down his face as he looked to the ground. He was nothing, no one, abandoned. Exactly what his parents had always told him he would be if he did not follow their teachings years ago. His heart was broken and he had to face the judgement of others still for losing his clan. For now, he waited, to recompose himself and face the consequences of his actions.
