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M. Tress Writes
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Lost Bloodline 3 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The sounds of gruesome crunching and chewing from Arthene while she feasted on the remains of her kill in bear form definitely put a serious note to the conversation between Koda and Cyrus.

The cougar beastfolk couldn’t help but dart his gaze over to where the bulky form of Arthene’s bear form sat with her back to the group, methodically consuming the remains of the bison. He wasn’t the only one looking; nearly his entire group of hunters watched as the incarnate spirit ate happily.

Only Samira kept her gaze on Koda.

“So something happened in your village that drove you out?” Koda reminded Cyrus after Arthene had shifted and ambled over to eat. The noise would have been intimidating to Koda as well, but he’d gotten used to such sounds from the battles they had fought over the past few weeks.

Cyrus swallowed hard before looking back at Koda with a new respect in his eyes. The cougar beastfolk still hesitated to answer the question, though. Again, Samira showed no such hesitation to divulge information to Koda, something that was rapidly endearing the perky woman to him. He couldn’t figure out if he could help without information.

“Our village is tucked into a fold at the foot of the mountains several days north of here. The land there is rich, and several rivers descend from the peaks to bring fresh water to us. It is a land of plenty that our people found and settled into generations ago,” Samira explained, her tail whipping back and forth in excitement.

“It sounds like a pleasant place,” Sienna said, getting a head-bob of agreement from Samira. The caracal woman’s ears wilted, sending the tufty tips swaying to either side in sadness.

“It was. Our people long roamed the plains to look for a home after being driven out by the elves far to the east. That was hundreds of years ago. We thought we’d found shelter here at the base of the mountains once more, and all was good. There are threats in the mountains, and also on the plains, but we had a home and a place of security.”

Cyrus took over for Samira, the resignation on his face showing that he knew if he did not tell the tale, then she would.

“Then the trolls came down from the mountains,” the cougar man said with a sigh.

The sharp inhalation from Calandra and Sienna told Koda all he needed to know about the severity of this situation, but he waited to see what else the beastfolk would tell him.

“At first, it was just one, poking around the lakes and raiding the fields. We chased it off as our ancestors taught us, with overwhelming numbers and fire, to ensure it knew this was our home. But then it returned and brought more of its kind,” Cyrus grumbled, thumbing the blade of his spear with one hand while staring into the worn iron like it was a mirror.

“Our people fought them off while we could, but around a moon ago there came to be too many of them, and our people were forced to abandon the village before the trolls began eating people. Only the elders and the injured hunters still healing were in the village; our hunting parties were ranging across the plains. Now our people shelter in the grassland once more, and the elders argue over whether we should fight for our home or move on to find a new place.”

Koda remained silent, thinking over what he’d heard. He recognized trolls by name, but he had no idea how much of what he knew from mythology matched what was going on here. Just as he recognized dwarves conceptually, but there were vast differences between the dwarves he’d seen in that movie about the magic ring and the reality of Calandra.

“Koda,” Sienna said gently, touching his shoulder and drawing him out of his thoughts. He glanced towards his lover and she leaned in close, murmuring into his ear while her blue-green eyes captured him as they always did.

“Trolls are a major threat. They normally live high in the mountains and rarely gather in tribes because of their predatory natures. Trolls see anything that moves as prey to be consumed, and it requires a powerful leader to keep them from falling into cannibalism. It’s even a problem during breeding and when giving birth; there are stories of mothers consuming their children as soon as they are born.”

Koda’s eyebrows shot up at that, and Sienna nodded seriously. She let him have a moment to digest that information before she continued.

“They are also incredibly hard to kill. If a troll isn’t destroyed outright during a fight, it will recover, given time and food. They are violent and dangerous, with only two drives in their lives: to eat and to breed. Fighting and cannibalism often make breeding unsuccessful.”

“I can imagine. If you literally take a bite out of your partner mid-fuck, that isn’t conducive to actually finishing,” Koda muttered, and the corner of Sienna’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

“No, it is not. Besides their violence and durability, trolls are huge. They are one of the few things I could see standing its ground against Arthene in her bear form. Not that they’d win, but they are large enough to keep her from just plowing over top of them.”

That thought, more than any warnings of violence and hunger, gave Koda pause. The idea of something large enough to stop his Arthene from just bulldozing them was mildly horrifying.

“What is your plan then, Cyrus?” Koda asked as Sienna leaned back into her seat.

“I would have us stand and fight,” Cyrus said simply, his brown eyes hardening and his grip tightening on his spear. “While I understand why our people fled the village, I do not agree with the idea that we should allow ourselves to be displaced so easily. We fought, bled, lived, loved, and died in that village for generations. My ancestors lay at rest in the mountain's womb, and I would have my bones lay beside them. This is the place our spirits call home now.”

“An understandable sentiment,” Calandra said, entering the conversation for the first time since it had started. The short woman didn’t flinch under the intense stare the beastfolk turned on her. “Trolls are no easy prey, as I am sure you are aware. How many did you encounter?”

“A dozen or more is what the villagers reported. Our hunting party was returning with meat when we found the refugees fleeing. Rather than return to scout, we set to work doing what we could to support our people,” Samira answered, her ears twitching in curiosity as she studied the smaller woman. “Do you know the best ways to battle trolls?”

“Aye, I was trained in it. Living this close to the mountains, it was necessary. We’d never had any come down to raid while I was with the guard, though,” Calandra said, crossing her arms over her bust. “They are like most large things. If you cut the right tendons, they fall down to a more-appropriate height. Troll-slayers don’t live in backwater towns, though, so this is just what trickled down from the army to us.”

Koda wasn’t sure, but the way Calandra said ‘troll-slayer’ felt like it had weight to it, almost like a title. He made a note to ask her about it, but set it aside for now.

“So, how many hunters are part of your village? And how far are they ranging?” Koda asked, drawing the conversation back to the important subject.

“We have over a hundred braves, divided into eight different hunting parties. Only two of them have rejoined the refugees so far, but that is to be expected. The hunting ranges are large and we all pursue different types of game. I just hope that they do not return to the village to be ambushed by the trolls.” Cyrus grimaced at the thought, his tail lashing in anxiety. “That is also why I want to push to reclaim the town. If this attack had come during the winter when our braves were there, I guarantee we wouldn’t have been pushed out.”

“But we found the Den Mother!” interjected Samira, her ears bouncing happily and sending their tufty flags flicking through the air. “With her help, I’m sure we can reclaim the town.”

Koda shared a glance with Sienna, while Calandra grumbled from her spot on the other side of the huntress.

“Samira, do not be rude,” chastised Cyrus. “While the Den Mother is here, that does not mean she will concern herself with our troubles.”

“But if the Den Mother is here, then maybe the legends are true?” Samira whined, her ears folding back against her skull while she stared at Cyrus.

“Legends?” Koda inquired, trying to be calm about it as he did so. Something in the way Samira had spoken sent a stirring through his soul.

“They are nothing but old stories. Please do not concern yourself about them.” Cyrus tried to mollify Koda.

Samira, as was proving to be her habit, was not willing to drop it and outright ignored Cyrus’ attempted deflection. Her expressive ears bounced upright, the fuzzy flags at their tips waving jauntily.

“The legends of the Before, when all creatures ran free beneath the open sky!”

Koda’s ears rang like his skull was a bell that had just been struck. He saw Samira’s mouth moving but did not hear. He saw the hope and excitement in her eyes, but could not think properly. His mind raced down recent paths to a memory that held so much weight to him. He’d heard these words since then, spoken them in passing himself. But in this moment, something reached out and touched the depths of his being.

A memory of a goddess reflected in a pool, her mane of black curls shimmering in ephemeral light even as the remains of hopeful tears glowed on her pale cheeks. She spoke a promise that sounded like a benediction to him.

“Take my hand, Koda Burke. Though you are of the blood of my people, and your line served me once, you still have the freedom to choose. All creatures should run free beneath the open sky.”

The freedom of choice. He’d chosen to step through the portal presented by happenstance to come to this place. To come to the aid of a woman who claimed to be a goddess, and proved the veracity of her words without hesitation. He’d found love, communion, and family in this world. All because of the freedom that Thera had promised him, when she had every right to demand his service because of oaths given by his ancestors.

Deep within his chest, in the space between his heart and his soul, where the nameless power that had aided him before dwelt, Koda felt an answering chime. While Samira’s words had sounded in his head like a silver bell, this was the distant rumble of an iron gong. Muffled by time and rust, the single note sent ripples through his spirit that shook off a measure of that corrosion, allowing the instrument’s voice to deepen as the seconds passed along.

These are your people, the gong said in his soul. Blood of your covenant. Though millennia separates you, they are yours to claim. Yours to protect.

What is that? Koda heard Thera’s voice echo from the portion of his soul that held his totemic gauntlets. The goddess’ voice was still tired, but he could hear the dregs of her returning strength, as well as a measure of hope. Koda, are you alright?

Take what is yours. Shelter your kin beneath your aegis, Son of the Covenant, demanded the echoing gong that welled up with the voices of his ancestors. It was not the voice of a tyrant, demanding that he bend to an unreasoned will. Instead, it spoke with the calm confidence of Koda’s own reasoned voice. It knew that he would do this, and was only speaking the words to reaffirm the commitment that Koda already felt.

“Koda?” Sienna’s soft voice broke through his thoughts and he twitched, blinking rapidly several times as reality reasserted itself around him.

Everyone was eyeing him now. Cyrus watched him warily, while Samira stared curiously. Calandra had leaned out to look at him in worry, while Sienna had one hand on his right arm, squeezing it gently.

“Are you okay, love? You looked like you were a thousand miles away there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Koda said, his voice suddenly hoarse and throat dry in the wake of… whatever had just happened.

The determination that settled into his chest like a weight was irrefutable as he turned his attention back to Cyrus. The cougar beastfolk was studying him warily, as if the older man could sense that something had changed in the young human in front of him.

“I’d like to help your people, Cyrus,” Koda said without hesitation. He knew that he’d said the right thing when Sienna gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and Calandra snorted in amusement on the other side of her.

“I do not know how much you will be able to do, but any help would be appreciated, Koda,” Cyrus said, his hesitation still hanging heavy between them. For all that he’d spilled his needs and worries to them, it felt like Cyrus was not quite ready to accept the help that it was clear he needed just yet.

Before Koda could speak to reassure him, Arthene returned to the conversation in her own unique way.

Arms wrapped around Koda from behind, hauling him back into a pair of soft breasts that sandwiched his head from either side. From the warmth against his neck and the bug-eyed stare from Cyrus, he knew that Arthene still hadn’t put her top back on yet.

“You would be surprised what my mate can do, son of the high plains,” Arthene rumbled in amusement.

Koda tilted his head to look up at Arthene and found his mate’s face covered in blood from the nose down, including a good part of her throat.

Of course she hasn’t washed yet, Koda thought in bemusement. I’m sure she finished eating and pranced over here to kidnap me so I can help her wash this time, since I wriggled out of it last time.

“We appreciate you coming with your mate, Den Mother. I just cannot say with any certainty what my elders will decide to do at this time,” Cyrus said, pulling Koda’s eyes back to the man who was doing his best to look Arthene in the eyes. He could see sweat on the beastfolk’s forehead as the vicious image Arthene presented—covered in blood, but snuggling with Koda—also added to his discombobulation.

“You misunderstand my words, son of the high plains,” Arthene chuckled, shifting to slide one large hand down Koda’s chest. “My mate has said he will help you. And if I know him like I do, then Koda Aegisclaw has taken you under his protection. You will have your home once more. By blood and instinct, he will return that land to your people, and see that the bodies of your enemies feed the land to make it richer.”

Arthene’s voice deepened as she spoke, until her words rumbled like a late summer storm over the grassland. In response, Cyrus’ eyes widened as the goddess in front of him made a promise. Samira’s grin was so wide that it looked like the top of her head might just fall off while she bounced excitedly on her seat.

“I… don’t know what to say, Den Mother,” Cyrus squeaked out.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sienna interjected with a smirk. Koda darted a glance to see that his wolfish lover had one ear cocked like she was listening to something before it straightened. “Her champion has spoken, and we will help reclaim your home. This is the will of the Queen of Beasts.”


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