Private Hammer and Peg

[Gerwald Lechner]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

A month or more had passed since Gerwald’s last visit to Islimore. In that time there had been a lot which had changed. It seemed the camp worked together more than that had before, and yet he could not help but notice each still had their own reasons for being among the group. He sighed watching as wolves trained in subpar conditions, not to mention the condition of the living quarters. The camp looked more like a weekend getaway, and less like a military stronghold.

The Fayth knew they were there, so it was best to act like it.

Quietly the wolf began to build a structure for himself. There was a lot of work to do, and it seemed as though he would be there for some time. Aelin needed him, and in his own way, he needed her. To what end, that would be for the both of them to discover. Gerwald was certainly intrigued by her. She led, but reluctantly. He knew her intentions, whether she wanted him to or not. The only question Gerwald had was what he would do about it when the time came.

For now, he was content to build. There was something about making a command tent for himself which reminded him about his life on Stewjon. Things had been much more simple when all he had to worry about was training an army or leading his men into battle against an enemy that he understood. Those days were long behind the Lord Commander, and Gerwald was still uncertain about how this endeavor he had agreed to would unfold.

Had it not been for Freya and her persistent nagging about his place among the Lupo, Gerwald would have never found his way to them. Aelin was the reason he decided to stay. They needed leaders, and all of them were too green for the wolf to turn a blind eye.

The day was hot, more so than any other day on the planet had been since their occupation. To that end Gerwald worked with his shirt tossed onto a pile of logs, or a mound of dirt. Where it had landed when he tossed it, the wolf no longer remembered. A tune was hummed as he took his time to dig a trench around the space he would occupy. If it rained the water would roll off the tent, keeping what was inside the cloth domicile from getting wet.

“We should be camping on higher ground,” he muttered to himself. If anyone was around to hear him, Gerwald was not paying attention. He had set himself to work, and the wolf would finish his task before moving on to make improvement within the camp itself.
​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

His meeting with the Draoidae had gone less stellar than he had planned. He'd meant only to ask her to give Aelin his farewells but with how the meeting had ended he'd be surprised if he would be welcomed back. Why had he gotten that way with her? She had done him no harm, not truly.

She sees you.

"The God's are dead." He had told her full of a venom that had come on him seemingly from nowhere. Even now away from her and removed from the moment it pained him to think on those words. Had he meant them? He wished to say no but he could not. He didn't want to mean them and yet he could not push them aside or reconcile them as false. His mind drifted to his youth and to his mother.

"Why should we love The God's if they left us?" A six year old Declan had asked his mother one day during lessons

"Will you not love your father and I when we have moved on from this world?" She asked him.

"I will love you always." He told her

"And so it is with The Gods. They are no longer here but they still love and care for our people, shaping and guiding as a parent does with their child and so we should love them the same as we would love a parent who has gone."

"If they love us, why did they do nothing during the purge? Why let our people suffer so?" He asked her.

"How do you know they did nothing, Declan Durinson? Were you there? The power of The Gods is great, it is true but they passed from this realm long before the Fayth arrived. You nor I were there for that dark time, perhaps The Gods attempted to show us the way and there were those who could not hear, could not understand or thought they knew better as many children do with their parents. The Gods often speak, Declan and woe to the fool who ignores them."

"So we deserved it? For ignoring them?"

"No, my son." She said with a patient smile. "I love you with all my heart and would do anything to protect you, do you doubt this?" He shook his head. He knew that she would do anything for him or his brother or the baby still in her belly.

"That's right," she continued "but just because I would see no harm come to you does not mean it will not. How many times had I warned you about walking on the top of the wall around the practice yard? More times than I could count and yet, you still managed to fall and scuff that beautiful face of yours." She kissed him on the scar on his forehead.

"As much as I want to, I cannot protect you from all the world and I cannot protect you from yourself. All
I can do is love you and teach you and hope you have sense enough to listen when it matters most."

His reminiscing had carried him all the way back to the makeshift tent town that had sprouted up near the temple walls. He was mostly packed for his long journey north but there were some last minute things had left to do.


"We should be camping on higher ground," a familiar voice grumbled nearby. It was Gerwald. One of two brothers who had joined this makeshift pack from an ancient and important clan. Gerwald had often left the temple for long stretches of time, sometimes with Aelin and sometimes without. Declan's own interactions with the man had been sparse save for an unfortunate incident on Coruscant.

"The walls make them feel safe." Declan called
out as he approached Gerwald. "The camp is softer on strategists than it is soldiers and there are few enough of those as it is. Care for a hand?"

Declan would not be leaving for another day or two and he feared he would not be returning with much help if he returned at all so now was as good a time as any to give what he could to this group of wolves.

Gerwald Lechner

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

"The walls make them feel safe. The camp is softer on strategists than it is soldiers and there are few enough of those as it is.”

A familiar voice pulled Gerwald from his focus. He had not meant to be heard, but he sometimes forgot little was kept secret when Lupo ears were close by.

“Care for a hand?"

“More hands make less work,” Gerwald replied as he tossed a plank toward Declan. “If you have time we should work on fortifying the rest of the camp as well. Those walls are only safe to a certain point.”

Declan made a good point. If the walls made the rest feel safe then the camp was fine where it was. Confidence was a better thing to have when everything else they needed was severely lacking. Those who understood the art of war and strategy would have to do what they could to make the camp what it needed to be. Even if it was not ideal.

“More coming every day I see.”

The wolf was testing the waters. He had not forgotten the last time the two had seen each other. Gerwald had called him a dog in certain terms, though the behavior had warranted it, there was still a sense of guilt over it.

“I am sorry about Coruscant,” he finally said after a bit of silence between them. “I should have chosen my words more carefully.”
​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“More hands make less work,” Gerwald replied as he tossed a plank toward Declan. “If you have time we should work on fortifying the rest of the camp as well. Those walls are only safe to a certain point.”

Declan deftly plucked the board from the air. “I couldn’t think of any better use of my time.” He said with a half smile pulling at his lips. Declan took a glance over at the area that had been being used for housing and he made a mental note to make builders a priority when he went north. The state of things here only reinforced the thoughts Declan had tried to bring up with Freya. They weren’t ready and were it not for Gerwald and now Declan, no one was making any effort toward getting them ready. She said nothing that had addressed his concerns he now realized. Assuring him that these wolves knew the risk was not that same as having some idea on how to mitigate that risk.

“More coming every day I see.” Gerwald observed.

“Aye, not enough. Not enough that know what they are up against in any way. None that have breathed the air of The Wolf’s Wood before arriving here. None with any reason to…” Declan stopped himself from having the same argument with Gerwald that he’d just finished having with Freya.


“I am sorry about Coruscant,” he finally said after a bit of silence between them. “I should have chosen my words more carefully.”
“I could say the same about my actions.” He told the man. Declan shifted uncomfortably. He’d hoped not to address the matter, that perhaps after a morning of confronting things he’d rather stay buried he would get some reprieve. The old way dictated on blood would make them whole. That until Declan stood over Gerwald in victory, he would be nothing.

“Forget it. Things happen right?” Declan the dog said.

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

“It should not be so easily forgotten,” Gerwald answered, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Gerwald extended his hand and watched as a hammer flew to it. Normally Gerwald was not one for the flare, but something about having Declan there made the wolf seem a little playful. There was a lot of work to be done, and they needed to find a way to make it fun.

“I know what tradition demands for honor to be restored, but I think we both have experienced enough of life beyond our traditions to shed blood. You are no more a common dog than I am.”

It was all Gerwald would say on the matter as he turned and began to nail the final board in place to the structure he was building for himself. A grin pulled at his lips as he stood back and admired the work of his own hands. It would do, and the pattern of it was easy enough to replicate.

“How many of these do you think we can build before the day is done?”

He was curious, but Gerwald also wanted to set out a challenge. They needed a place to call home, not just some temporary camp. With the right amount of work and sweat the encampment could become that. Once Gerwald could take back Bloodraven Hall, they would all be safe, but until then… this camp was going to have to do.​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“It should not be so easily forgotten,” Gerwald answered, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Declan was glad that they were able to move on. His trip north would provide plenty of time to chew on the past. Here in the ruin of a temple lost to their people ages ago, they were facing down the future.

“I know what tradition demands for honor to be restored, but I think we both have experienced enough of life beyond our traditions to shed blood. You are no more a common dog than I am.”

“For me life beyond our traditions was blood,” Declan said. “But you’re right your blood will not be where I reclaim my honor.” Declan smiled.

Blood for Blood.

“A common dog? No, not common.” Declan said shaking his head. “But I was a dog for many years. A dog too much of a coward to die in the pits. A dog now forced to relearn his place among the wolves who have come to my home for the first time. The Gods see fit to make a fool of me at every turn.” His self-pity was gone and he spoke with a lightness he hadn’t been able to find with Freya.

Perhaps it was the ease that came with purpose that lifted his heart or perhaps it was Coruscant and the knowing that Gerwald unlike the others saw what life had made him. Aelin, Brynjar, and even Freya, they thought him a Wolf, a warrior, something that he was, that he should’ve been but had forgotten how to be.

Declan too admired the structure Gerwald had managed to build. A Lechner dirtying their hands in the mud and Declan there to join them, it was hardly to be believed.

“How many of these do you think we can build before the day is done?” Gerwald asked.

“Of these? Between the two of us, we could make a town of these, I’d wager.”

Declan was no stranger to this sort of work. Every year, The Wild Wolves came and his father’s lands bled and burned and every year his father answered every Kanaka death with a dozen from the Cailleadh, and every year Declan was there to help rebuild what was broken, an Alpha’s son standing, sweating, singing among the people.

“Have you done a lot of construction where you’re from? You were not born here on Islimore am I right? What drew you to…this?” Declan waved his hand around at the ruin of the temple.

Gerwald Lechner

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[Gerwald Lechner]

​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

Gerwald nodded. It seemed they had an understanding that they would not be spilling blood over the issue. Yet, Declan explained further. They had both experienced time among humans with very different outcomes. It made the wolf sad to know just how much Declan had been mistreated, but it explained a lot about why he acted the way he did.

Blood was survival.

He spoke more of his time at home. All he knew was war, fighting, rebuilding, it seemed. Whatever his past had been, it had made him a hard worker. Neither of them seemed afraid to get dirty or put in a full day’s work.

“So one hundred then. If we get it done I will buy the mead.”

Now it was a challenge, and Gerwald’s eyes began to scan the encampment for the perfect place to begin. By the end of the day the place would look different, and with that, it would feel different. What the Lupo coming in needed was a home. This would give them that.

“I have. Before Freya found me I rebuilt my childhood home from the ground up. It was lost in a fire.” Gerwald would not mention how all that came about. “The people of Stewjon were hard workers, and while I was part of the warrior caste, that did not mean we did not work. Whatever defenses this place needs I can build as well.”

Gerwald walked to the next clearing, using the force to carry the wood they would need along with them. It would take the day to accomplish what the two of them set out to do, but the time would be well worth it.

“Freya drew me here. She found me on Stewjon after the Confederacy fell. I returned home to ensure they would not fall back into old ways which the nation had helped to reform. I have spent my life trying to discover anything about our kind, and it found me. I may not agree with our ways, and have learned enough to know our lore is meant to explain what we did not know, but I am grateful to have set my eyes on something I could only dream of before.”

That was the truth, and it was why Gerwald would defend his kind and fight to see them free. His intent was not stay beyond doing that, but at least he would do that.

“You? What brought you here?”​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“So one hundred then. If we get it done I will buy the mead.”

“Simple then.” Declan smiled wide and removed the shirt he had worn to visit Freya. His trip north may not result in a trip back to this place and this pack so if his legacy here was to be the work he did with Gerwald today, that would be a worthy a one.

Declan was not nearly as skilled at The Gift or as many of the wolves here and those born to the wider galaxy referred to it : The Force as Gerwald, as a point of fact he had no skill for it at all, not in the way he saw Gerwald or Brynjar or Aelin or even Firenne use it. He could focus The Gift in certain ways, to enhance his strength or speed or reflexes, he had been taught to use it to keep track of his brothers and packmates when they would hunt in the flurries of snow or in the darkness of The Wilds and there were times where the power came to him unbidden, the way it was supposed to, he was taught. It was a gift from The Gods given at Their whim and using it for everyday living was neither necessary or respectful. There were times, like these however, that Declan did wish he had greater skill with the power. He did not want to become a burden to Gerwald, even a well-meaning one.

“...Whatever defenses this place needs I can build as well.” Gerwald declared

“I do not doubt it.” Declan said cheerily. Gerwald had a certain reputation to him amongst the camp, many of the wolves did. There were those who thought Gerwald aloof, saw him as separate from the rest of them. He had responsibilities after all that woul draw him away from the camp for any length of time but his coming and going as he did and his familiarity with both Aelin and Freya and his not so secret clash with Brynjar have served to make Gerwald a figure of some mystery and interest among the commons. Though looking at the man and his physique, Declan was sure that his um comings and goings were not all that were discussed. Declan for his part, despite their tumultuous start, gave Gerwald the benefit of the doubt and perhaps more. With Varick having been called away and taking Fi along with, it seemed to Declan that Gerwald more than any in this camp had what it took to lead these wolves against The Fayth, if it came to that.

Declan listened to Gerwald talk of Freya and his home on Stewjon of the confederacy and of things he knew little and less about but something struck Declan as he listened and it made him smile. Every word Gerwald spoke, the task they had set out before themselves. He was a protector. He could see nothing else and that was admirable, it was a trait Declan’s father had and his brother too.

“The name Lechner means something on Islimore.” Declan told the man. “It’s only right that Islimore mean something to you, I suppose.”

“You? What brought you here?”

“The Gods.” He answered. “The Gods, Blood, and Aelin. Cérmæ bless her. The Gods often speak, my mother would tell me, and only a fool ignores them. First The Gods spoke and I told them to fuck off, then I talked to Aelin, before we found her sister. We spoke of our fathers and we sang songs I had not heard since I was a boy. I realized The Gods spoke again, sweeter this time and so I followed her here, to our death.”

Declan started taking the wooden beams and began outling a template for the first building’s foundation.

“Have you seen it since coming back? Bloodraven, I mean.”

Gerwald Lechner

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[Gerwald Lechner]

​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

Gerwald nodded.

“Aye.”

The answer was short for the moment as he started work on the next structure. He did not know how much he wished to share with the wolf. Was he to admit that the Fayth had taken it, that he put Aelin in danger of being killed? Certainly the others would hear of his failure and hate him further for endangering the one person everyone seemed to get along with.

He sighed.

“The Fayth have made it an outpost, but that is problematic.”

It seemed he was going to trust Declan after all.

“Bloodraven Hall is more than the ancestral home of the Lechner clan. At one point it was the seat of power for the Anasi. Centuries my ancestors led our people, and guarded our kind’s secrets.”

Gerwald wondered how many of the Lupo among them were aware of the Vault which Bloodraven Hall had been built upon. Artifacts, tomes, writings, technology, were just a few of the things Bloodraven protected. More than any of that, the Vault housed the truth, some of which Gerwald knew from the journal belonging to Geralt Lechner which he recovered.

“Aelin has promised to help me reclaim it before the Fayth can find the Vault. If they do, we will not stand a chance against them. When we finally strike, Bloodraven must be our first target. Not because it is mine, but because our survival requires it.”​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“The Fayth have made it an outpost, but that is problematic…”

That did not sit well with Declan. Not just for the blow it meant to have the Fayth in possession of a place that had at one time meant more than any other to the Lupo save for The Wolf’s Wood but he could not help but imagine his own father’s hall stolen and used by the enemy. It was a troubling thought that made him work all the harder so he may get on the road sooner and see his home again with his own eyes.

“...Bloodraven Hall is more than the ancestral home of the Lechner clan. At one point it was the seat of power for the Anasi. Centuries my ancestors led our people, and guarded our kind’s secrets.”

What secrets? He wondered.

“Aye. I remember my lessons. Even in The North we are taught of The Anasi Geralt Lechner.” Declan told him between nailing in floorboards.

The stories would say Geralt’s ascension was the final blow in widening the rift between The North and the rest of the continent. Sigmund Wolfbane grandson of Durin the first had been furious that Clan Kanaka had had no say in the choice of ruler. Sigmund had been convinced of treachery and had refused to swear fealty and thus began in earnest Northern isolation which continued until this day.

“Aelin has promised to help me reclaim it before the Fayth can find the Vault. If they do, we will not stand a chance against them. When we finally strike, Bloodraven must be our first target. Not because it is mine, but because our survival requires it.”

“That certainly sounds like something she would do.” Aelin never met a lupo she did not want to help or a problem she did not think she had to personally solve.

“When we strike you say? So you favor war regardless of our disadvantages?” Declan found that to be very interesting. Declan could not say if Gerwald was being wholly honest about his reasons for making Bloodraven their priority. He did not know the man well enough to say if he had some other motivation or if he truly did believe their people’s lives depended on reclaiming that keep. Declan would make no judgment on that and he would not imagine being a part of any war council to make such a choice.

Should he tell Gerwald of Aelin’s intention? Should he suggest the man take it for himself as his ancestor once had?

“And you would lead this campaign to reclaim your seat, I have no doubt.” Declan said as he went to Gerwald’s side to help him lift the frame of the next dwelling in place. “Who would lead after?”

Gerwald Lechner

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[Gerwald Lechner]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

There was a skepticism Gerwald could detect in Declan’s voice. There was not much the wolf could expound upon without trusting Declan entirely with his family’s secrets. Aelin knew, only because she had been with him when the Fayth attacked. She knew of the vault, what it meant for their kind and the war. Gerwald had not shared with anyone what was in it, because he was not sure he fully knew. All the wolf knew was that the Fayth could destroy them with what was contained inside.

A small chuckle escaped as Declan asked him a similar question as to the one he had been receiving as of late. Would he lead? Gerwald was a leader, but that did not mean he aspired to it. Every position Gerwald held seemed to be because of duty or out of reluctance. If he were to lead the Lupo it would also be from the same posture.

“To reclaim Bloodraven? It does belong to me? Whether war is the right course or not, it is the one this camp is determined to walk. I am here to ensure minimal casualties. I do not aspire to lead our people, however, if that is what you are trying to determine.”

He did not, even knowing that there was none among them with the ability to accomplish that task. Aelin was the most obvious choice, but she was too green, and did not yet have the respect of the other alphas. Certainly Brynjar would think her too weak to lead them, or his own pride would not allow it. Then there was the matter of where Declan stood.

“Would you, if asked?”​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“To reclaim Bloodraven? It does belong to me? Whether war is the right course or not, it is the one this camp is determined to walk. I am here to ensure minimal casualties. I do not aspire to lead our people, however, if that is what you are trying to determine.”

“That’s a shame.” That was all the response Declan could muster. It was a shame that they were headed toward a war they had no chance of winning. They had no advantage, none at all. Numbers, experience, technology, and even familiarity with the battleground all belonged to their enemy. They were now foreign invaders of their ancestral home. Monsters returned from the dark come to spill human blood.

It was a shame Gerwald did not aspire to more than mitigating death. He provided what was perhaps their only true advantage against The Fayth. The Fayth were powerful respective to the rabble of the ruin but compared to The Confederacy they were hardly above notice. Gerwald had been well respected and a leader amongst them. He had fought in wars and battles the scale of which would make whatever happened with the Fayth look like a skirmish. He was truly their greatest weapon but Declan would certainly not begrudge him his choice.

It was a shame that Bloodraven had fallen into the hands of The Fayth. If the pack were in possession of such a place it could rally many of the clans that still lived on Islimore to their cause. As things stood however taking it back would require blood; human and Lupo. It would be a true declaration of war and yet what choice did Gerwald have? Declan would burn across the continent if it meant reclaiming his own father’s hall, his home, from the enemy.

Once perhaps. When you were Wolf.

“Would you, if asked?” Gerwald questioned.

A bark of laughter burst from him.

“Me? Lead?” He laughed again “My father gave me command of a hunting party one winter. The Cailleadh had raided a farmstead with two families dead but as is their way, they stole the daughters. Four girls watched their families butchered only to be carried off so they could be forced to have pups with these monsters. My Father told me to get them back. We tracked them for four days. Eventually, their tracks led us to a frozen lake, one of the men in my party, an experienced man, warned that we should go around. That would’ve added another day or more to our time and I was in no mood to wait so we pushed on. Ten of us went crossing that lake. Six of us went in the water, I was the only one who came back out. Gunar the man who I failed to listen to pulled me from the freezing depths. That hunted last two weeks. Two weeks of freezing-biting winds and attacks from the very Cailleadh we were hunting. Thank The Gods my brother found us or Gunar and I would never have made it.”

We never did get the girls back. He left out.

“That should have been enough to teach me that leadership was not for me but I tried my hand at it one last time. I challenged my brother’s right to rule our clan in favor of my own. My father denied this to me. I took time in The Wolf’s Wood to commune with The Gods. That was the last I saw of this place until returning with Aelin and the others.”


The Gods watched as I was beaten and taken from my home.

“My brother learned how to lead. I learned how to drink, sing, and whore. Far less helpful but doubtlessly more fun.” He said with a smile.

Declan grabbed a shovel and began working to dig out the foundation for the next home.

“Looks like we’re doomed, my friend.”

Gerwald Lechner

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[Gerwald Lechner]

​

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson

Shame.

Gerwald was well acquainted with the word. If Declan had only known how many times Gerwald made decisions as a leader which required him to stomach some sense of shame or guilt he might understand the wolf’s reluctance. In war, soldiers died. It was their leaders who gave the orders to march them to it. It was not a thing Gerwald took lightly, nor should anyone hoping to lead. Gerwald did not trust anyone that aspired to lead. Most of them did not know the cost.

“You laugh, but your experience is what would make you a good leader. Your father was blind to see it.”

It was not meant as an insult, but more of a statement. Declan had his vices. He even had his insufficiencies, but who was immune to that? No, Declan understood his own flaws so well that he could own them with more humility than most.

“Tragic, yes. In an attempt to save someone I love I watched a good soldier die, and three others become influenced by a dark side demon of a kind. It was after that mission I was informed that I would be elevated to Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian. On the heels of my largest defeat at the time, I was to be promoted. You can imagine I did not feel worthy at all, and yet it was what I displayed in defeat that caught the attention of those making the decision.”

His eyes caught Declan’s.

“It is not our failures that define us, but rather it is what we do after them that does. You may not see yourself as a leader now, but that does not mean you do not have it within you.”

Gerwald let it be quiet for a moment. He pondered even further how much of his secret he wanted to tell Declan. The wolf did not know much more than what was disclosed already, other than only the Lechners had known about the vault before. For a while the only sound between them was that of hammers driving wooden pegs into place as one by one the men constructed homes for those living near the ruins.

It felt good to work with his hands again. Gerwald was reminded of much simpler times, even if the days ahead of them would be anything but. The reprieve of making decisions beyond where to build the next structure gave the wolf a much needed respite. Gerwald needed to remember that life could move slowly. The fast pace of his world had caused a hurry that did not allow him to enjoy the beauty which surrounded him.

He sighed.

“No, I would not be a good leader for our people. First they do not trust me as an outsider. I am too critical of our mythology and traditions. Besides we know the moment I lay any claim to do so Brynjar will challenge it.”

Gerwald chuckled.

“I would hate to have to kill him.”​

 

[Declan Durinson]

​

“You laugh, but your experience is what would make you a good leader. Your father was blind to see it.”


“My father had the right of it, I was a pup. I challenged my brother’s right to rule out of jealousy and for no more noble a reason as that. I was too young and my blood ran too hot. It was I who was blind.”

Twenty years was a long time. Declan had many hours to reflect on the mistakes of that night. In that moment he told himself and his father that he made his challenge to protect his clan, to correct the terrible mistake his brother was making. He knew even then it was a lie. Declan the son of Durin IV and brother to Durin v had always been close to his brother. Durin’s shadow he had been called. He should have been Durin’s shield as well but when his brother had entered his father’s hall and professed his desire for a mating ceremony, it had struck a blow to Declan. He had always known his brother would one day take a mate and become Alpha but he had not thought it to happen so quickly. Their father was older it was true but he showed no sign of age and they themselves were still boys, Dorian was only eleven, they should have spent years yet earning battle fame, facing down the Wild Wolves as their father’s fiercest warriors, bringing glory to their clan together as brothers; as equals.


“It is not our failures that define us, but rather it is what we do after them that does. You may not see yourself as a leader now, but that does not mean you do not have it within you.”

What did you do after your failures, Durinson? You ran.

Declan did not interrupt the silence. Instead, he savored it. It had been a rare moment since well, in a long time that there had been a true silence for Declan to sit in. The thoughts in his mind, the longing in his heart, and the fear in his stomach all gave way to the silence.

“No, I would not be a good leader for our people. First they do not trust me as an outsider. I am too critical of our mythology and traditions. Besides we know the moment I lay any claim to do so Brynjar will challenge it.”

Gerwald chuckled.

“I would hate to have to kill him.”

Declan shared in the laughter.

“I’m sure he would love for you to try.”

Gerwald Lechner

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