Four days later, the returned Salor sat in an inquisition chair of his own making in his own house. His wife sat across from him diligently reading the contents of the scroll given to him by the Skaveen. He’d not even broken the seal. At least his awareness of culpability was still intact.

“Then the elders did some sound projection and let me listen to the reading.” Salor waved his arms in the air dramatically. “The scribe wrote it all out and gave me that scroll.” He stared at his wife who ignored him and kept reading the printed version of the conveyed destiny for their son. Yilta’s brow lowered and her gray eyes, usually so large and bright, were darkened and narrowed. 

Salor didn’t like that look. It reminded him of a brewing storm. He could see the tautness of her shoulders and the twitching tip of her tail a clear sign of distress. 

“I wanted to argue, but it was like I was silenced. I couldn’t speak and they just kept talking about his uncommon abilities and the preordained alignment with the stars. The Skaveen made it sound like he was apt to leave the planet. How can they know that? And I’ve never heard of a protector leaving the planet. The royal house does not allow it. It must be rubbish. Once he is bonded this destiny, they spoke of will be moot.”

Yilta Deshik glanced at him in silence. Her ears twitched sideways.

Salor’s puzzlement grew. Yilta looked ready to argue. But she knew the rules. Royal protectors never leave the planet.

Salor remembered that one moment of the reading where his doubt surged higher than others. “What do you think they mean when they say his future is torn? He is but a baby.” Salor questioned.

“They do not say his future is torn, love. They say his future holds two paths.” Yilta’s melodic voice replied, her often calming devotional tones clearly being used to soothe her mate.

“But what does that mean? He is born to the protector line. He will take his place bonded to the potentate. He has but one path to take and no other.” He felt his claws pressing into his pads. The simple facts of reality seem to be suspended by these Skaveen mages. And he could not voice his words. The way they stole his voice made his hackles stand, even now. 

“They are claiming he will hunt two paths…” she paused her nostrils flaring, “…one of to fulfill his birth and, one to fulfill his death.” Yilta’s voice wavered down to a whisper. Her eyes widened. “The depth of this frightens me, Salor. You know I have questioned him about the role of protector almost since he was born. He is too smart, too curious to hold the hand of a royal prince-ling. He will spend his life wanting more or failing to live up to the role in pure boredom. And he is protective of anyone he considers a friend. How will he be able to make those decisions that a protector will need to make?”

“You mean to let someone die in order to save another? He will. He has too. His birthright is to become a protector. No matter the cost.” Salor spoke in a monotone, the lack of emotion getting more attention than if he had yelled.

Yilta knew he was intimately familiar with the role of protector, and probably knew he made such life-or-death decisions before. He was capable just as sure as their eldest, Shasis. Their daughter, as deadly effective as he once was, took to the protector role like a wolf pack scented the quarry. While Yilta didn’t know the exact details of his previous position, with as many days as she’d spent worried over his scowling demeanor, guilt-filled grief, and that awful numb state lingering before he finally accepted the fate he’d been handed, was telling enough. He felt his ears flatten just the thought of Shasis going through those same moments over and over. His wife would cringe. But Spirito, he wasn’t Shasis. Yilta didn’t do him any favors spending hours and days training him in her Red Clan Spirit training. She was probably right about their son, as usual. Shasis surely wasn’t raised to know of peace and nature. The two pups would never be the same. Shasis was a sharp sword. Spirito is a warm touch. 

His almost rigid belief of the world as either black or white was not an easy road to follow. Once a protector to the royalty of Canid, the luxury of passing hard decisions to others was taken from you. After training, you either attacked the deed or failed. He could see in his wife’s eyes she did not believe Spirito could perform when needed. And trying to adapt him to become that type of person would be done regardless of his nature. He rubbed his brow ridge. At what cost? His integrity? His canidity?

Yilta was watching him from beneath her lashes. He already felt a rising wall of rebuttal and tried to let it go. Damn her, she’d trained him, as well. He breathed to find calm. Maybe she wouldn’t push his boundaries too hard this time.

“Nothing gained is never lost, Salor. Perhaps we should petition the house and request forbearance for the bonding? That would give him more time to find out more about some of those ideals.” She didn’t say it but he knew she meant “and us.”

Salor opened his scarred muzzle and then closed it with a snap. She’d gone there. If she expected to hear more spouting of denial, more blaring dissent, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He kept his tone reasonable, even if his claws curled inward. “Aren’t we letting the Gemlet jump the fence before the Skitter is released? Why bother with a petition, this early? He won’t be performing his bonding until he is twelve. That delay would only allow him until his eighteenth birthday, and it has only been used a half dozen times to allow the protector additional training. I don’t think he will have issues with the training. He is already commanding his toys to scout ahead.”

She hesitated and used a sledgehammer he wasn’t ready for. “We could argue he should study political sessions. You know Senchal Relig is arguing for participation in the Corgarian offensive.” Yilta’s tone dropped to a lower volume. Even inside her own house, she respected the power of a hungry politician and his flavor of growing madness. “He may relegate more Canids to be involved to gain more reputation for conflicts. Perhaps that is the way Spirito travels off the planet?”

Salor might not know his visage became grim, but his firm head shake was incontestable. He too leaned closer and spoke in a low growl. “He and his cronies will promote our people into annihilation if he has it his way. You know he is trying to banish protectorate bonding. He would rather have all of the royals under his control, released from traditions that have stayed in the royal house for tens of centuries. Shasis is already dealing with…” He stopped abruptly and sat back up. He never spoke the details, but Yilta would understand. While he wasn’t sharing his daughter’s protector role issues with her, no matter how much he loved his wife, his withdrawal said volumes. 

He jerked his head, looking away. ‘We cannot rely on someone whose only goal is recognition.”

His wife’s paw slid over the Skaveen scroll and back, then over it again. The movement struck him like a pulsar dart. His wife was all about control and here she was so anxious she was unable to stay still. This was completely out of character.

He could not bear her anxiety. Reaching over the table he laid his paw on hers. 

“We will think about this. Spirito deserves our consideration. I do understand its importance.” He tapped the scroll with his nail. He gave her paw a squeeze. “The boy is not nearly close to knowing his life’s pathway. Let’s give him time to claw into the dirt he will travel on.” While he wanted her to understand he was always going to be by her side, regardless of his own jaded views, he knew he wasn’t able to make huge changes in his own thinking. His experience wasn’t just knowledge, it was years. He wants a young pup, taking on the world. His older wolf persona was just that. Older. She was at least 10 years his junior but looked thirty. She needed to think hard enough for both of them. “Perhaps you can bend the Red Clan sister’s ears to study the problem.”

His wife lifted her bushy eyebrow ridge.

Salor blinked. “I’m not saying they are the best solution. But the more the pack the bigger the beast will fall.”

His wife gave a toothy grin. “Why Salor Deshik. Look how wise you’ve become.”

Salor rolled his eyes. “It’s probably because I’m led by the nose by my wife’s guidance.”

They both snorted.

***

A room away, little Spirito lifted his ear from the cracked door of his room and gave a deep frown. He heard the shuffle of paws on the floor and dashed back to his bed. His door opened and his Da glanced in to see him spinning the toy his uncle gave him to calm his fidgets.

“Night son. I’m glad we got home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can visit the village and check out the announcement posts at the lodge.”

Spirito nodded. “Can we visit Shasis, too?

His father’s head tilted, and he slowly gave a nod. “Sure. She may not be there but let’s stop in and see.”

“Sounds great. Goodnight, Da.”

Spirito turned to his side and turned down the oil on his lamp.

In the darkness, he saw his father rub his paw over his head. A slight tell, he’d give when his thoughts were on other matters.