I have had thoughts for this post since I wrote Shandom and Lea at Meghann's SW. Larewyn and Chimera do not belong to me, nor does the idea for the pack Valencia. This is the best conclusion I have for their stories in that particular universe.
Meghann, Marie, and Gen - I dedicate this to you. Had you three not all been at 'Souls, I probably would not have returned. I hope you enjoy it.
Word Count: 4,007
- There is a place, between our world and the next, which holds everyone for a period of time. It is a place of quiet nothingness, an expanse of green and blue meeting at an unattainable horizon. In this place every creature, large or small, waits an appropriate period of time for their judgment to pass. It is neither hot nor cold, and the food is neither plentiful nor scarce. Sound does not come particularly often in this strange, empty land; the creatures here speak quietly in an unspoken agreement. Not every creature here is good – there are some who will stay here for eternity, constantly waiting for their chance to move on to the paradise that is waiting. Others stay for what was known on early for only a day, having lived gentle lives free from violence and bloodshed. But most stay for several months, waiting out the purgatory.
It is here we find Shandom Qi’Vaex and Linquilea Yae, who later in life became known as Linquilea of the Bloodstained Rose. Though Shandom died several moons before his sister, the white male has not yet moved into the paradise above. Instead, he has waited, knowing the Gods have him here for a reason. His sins cannot be seen as less than his sister’s – if not for his crime, Linquilea would not have become the terrible and fearsome Alphess and killer she was in life. The days, never changing, have given him time to reflect on the price of his life’s great crime. He spent many days thinking about her, thinking about what he would say when he inevitably saw the beautiful black woman. Would she forgive him? Would she lash out? Or would she, perhaps, remain silent for the rest of eternity?
Xx
In life, she had not been pure.
Far from it, actually. Linquilea of the Bloodstained Rose, former Alphess of Valencia, had the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, on her paws. When she lost her mind, the dark woman went on rampages that tore across thousands of miles and lasted several years; she knew her name would go down in infamy in several areas of the world. In this clarified afterlife, she was not sure how to feel. Certainly, she accomplished the goals she set in life. Linquilea’s blind desire to cause the world that gave her so much pain even more than she felt was, though brief, successful. But brief was the key word. Pain, when measured in the span of time, was a fleeting thing. Collective scars on the conscious of wolf kind would never fully heal, but would fade, and be forgotten in the great scheme of things. She had caused no great war to break out, and had not ruined millions of lives. For that, she had to be somewhat grateful.
But, in the greater scheme of things, who was she? An irritant in a blink of time; a forgotten nightmare for some insignificant gathering of minds? She knew it was nothing greater than that, and perhaps too much. The afterlife gave the woman a greater appreciation of her own inadequacies; Linquilea’s notorious hubris was humbled, to say the least, by the realization that she, too, was small. Such a realization diminished her all-consuming hatred. What was hatred, after all, in the greater scheme of things, besides an equally fleeting and insignificant emotion of lesser creatures? This world reminded her that she was small and tiny; that there were greater forces at work and it would be they who decided her fate. For all the control she struggled to gain, for all the power she had worked so hard to acquire, Linquilea was an equal in these after-life days. The Gods – or whatever entities that were tasked with the job of deciding her ultimate fate – would use whatever formula they used with any other creature that had once drawn breath.
It was a humbling, and terrifying, thought.
She had braced herself for so many years for the fires of hell. Linquilea never wanted to admit to anyone that she was frightened – and, in truth, she never once did – but in the dark corner of her seemingly cold heart the midnight Alphess wondered what it would be like once she died. Legends from her childhood told her there would be fire beyond any fire she ever saw in life, licking at her body and tormenting her until she was at the brink of death. And then – a reprise. A brief moment in which she was allowed to think, for just one, fleeting moment, that it might be over.
Naturally, the fires would begin again, and she would burn until the end of everything. And then, perhaps, she would burn some more.
If she were being honest, Lea found this all terribly unfair, at least in life. But when had life treated her kindly? When had she ever been given a simple break? She had made everything look so easy, so incredibly simple, when, in truth, she struggled day in and day out to keep her head above the proverbial waters. Each breath she drew was a struggle against what was intended for her: pain, emotional, physical, and mental. Her mind was tainted and horrible, twisted by hatred and consumed with bloodlust. She hadn’t minded, in life, after she grew accustomed to it. It simply developed into a part of her personality, and then it was her personality; she was the embodiment of hatred and cruelty, and it was as if she never remembered any other alternative.
This land reminded her of what she might have been, had the Gods not decided she was not destined for such a tranquil and ordinary life. Her fragile mind unraveled itself from the dark blanket of hate, stepping away and, for the first time in five years, taking a deep, soothing breath on its own. It was a strange and curious sensation, and Lea could almost feel a physical shift when it occurred. She wondered whether or not she would be faced with the fires to which she’d resigned herself, or if this were simple reality. The thought was terrible. Even separated from the essence of her demons – though they still walked beside her, this she could sense – the woman hated to be wrong. She spent so much time pressing her dark convictions upon the minds of others that it remained a shock to be such a pawn in the hands of something greater. Linquilea of the Bloodstained Rose, born Linquilea Yae, did not appreciate this stirring development.
And so she walked. Walked, and walked, and walked, until she realized this place was never ending and never beginning. It was an infinite loop, a mirage of the mind but also a concrete reality; she could not be certain she saw the same thing as the creatures that walked beside her. Her face, significantly less aged than it had been when she passed, was set in a firm line, and her golden eyes were blank if not for the reflection of the horizon. Linquilea did not know where she was headed, or did not want to accept it. The fact of it was too frightening to accept.
Xx
They saw each other, after what seemed like an endless amount of time. It was a moment like many others, except for the quickening of breaths and heartbeats. Neither made any spectacular show of emotion; golden met chocolate for the thousandth time, before both darted away to only return an instant later. Shandom was the first to shift his stance, acknowledging the arrival of his sister with a flattening of ears and dipping of head. The movement was one that would be only significant to Lea: in their childhood, he had never been one to submit to her, at least not physically. His emotions, thoughts, and physical prowess had always been at her mercy, but he had never let his sister dominate him. Hierarchy remained important, as it always had, and Shandom was above her in their youth. Neither had ever made much of it – it was the simple way of things, and it was how these things would remain to be.
Or so they had thought.
In death, Shandom knew his place. He deserved no high honors, no accolades for his life’s triumphs. When he betrayed Linquilea for his own selfish reasons, the Qi’Vaex man surrendered everything. Though she would go on to be the terrible killer of their time and truly the stuff of dark legends, Shandom realized that it was he who orchestrated the whole affair. If he had stepped away from the innocent children and realized that his sister would always be his sister, though perhaps a little more preoccupied, the course of so many lives would have been significantly altered. As he stared at her, eyes locked, he thought of Keliyya and her family, how they must have felt when her brutal teeth ripped through their flesh like butter. In his mind’s eye, he saw what it must have looked like: bodies, broken and battered, left for naught, and blood, like softly curling crimson ribbons, twining its escape. There would have been glassy eyes that reflected stars and nothing more, and the whines of children as they experienced death for the first time.
This would be her legacy, when it should have been his.
She had never been particularly stable. Volatile and emotional, even as a girl, but never particularly dangerous. Certainly, she would not have been suitable for the high rank she was born into. Like him, Lea stepped first with her emotions, charging into everything with uncalculated thought and passion pumping through her. Shandom heard stories, told by survivors, that she was cold and callous, unfeeling and detached from reality. He knew this was incorrect. Everything she did was fueled by passionate hatred and a fierce thirst to let the tumultuous emotions spill away and release her mind. Lea was transformed because she loved too much and hated with equal vigor. No façade could ever distract Shandom from this one eternal certainty. He would always be certain of her.
This, perhaps, would be his torture. To stare at her for the rest of eternity, to lock gazes and know that she must repent for what his own sins. He would see, for the rest of everything, the hatred and resentment that burned in her, never able to approach her, never able to apologize for everything he had done. Shandom supposed it was an adequate prison, well thought out by the Gods. If there was one thing that could torture him, it was the eternal knowledge that his sister’s downfall was his fault. There would be no thoughts of “Oh, well, it might have happened anyway” – to lock eyes with Linquilea and see anything differently from what he saw now would be impossible.
He did not know what to say, though he knew he had the ability to speak.
Xx
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Neither moved, and neither drew perceptible breath. There was silence, and only silence.
Xx
“I’m sorry.”
His voice was hoarse due to lack of use. The last word cracked on his tongue; the initial apology did not sound as sincere or emotional as he had meant it.
She did not respond. Instead, she continued to look at him. Nothing changed, and Shandom reverted back to his silence.
Xx
“Why?”
The question, coming from deep, gravely, yet distinctly feminine tones, shocked the white man. Chocolate eyes narrowed momentarily in a non-malicious, instead curious, fashion. Naturally, he did not know what to say.
“Because I loved you. Because I still love you.”
She shook her massive head, breaking eye contact for the first time to shift her gaze to the unnaturally green ground.
“That’s not good enough.” It would never be good enough.
“I know.”
Xx
“Do you still love me?”
The audacity of the question reflected Shandom’s lack of wisdom. He could not help but still give in to his selfish urges; whether or not she loved him was, ultimately, the most important part of his existence. It was never romantic between the pair, though he had, of course, fancied the idea – but the bond of sibling was something he did not think could be broken, even in the wake of the most terrible of crimes.
Her golden eyes, which had been fixed fiercely away from him, returned to the scarred countenance. She knew the ugly mar was her own fault, and yet she could not force herself to feel any sort of guilt. It was what he had deserved. But still, looking into his familiar face, she could not help the ocean of memories that crashed upon her consciousness. The memories, though they preceded something awful, brought her happiness. Strangely, they had been the only source of joy that still existed deep within her. Thoughts of her children, her first litter of children and the only offspring she could bring herself to love, were far too painful.
She knew the answer.
“Would I have behaved in the manner I did if I had not?”
That was enough to bring a wide, joyful smile to his ruined face. She hated him for it.
Xx
“I had children. I cannot remember their names, now, except for one. Her name was Alyshia Belle Nightslayer, and she was a beautiful child.”
Linquilea lifted a wolfish brow at him, curious as to why he would bring this up. Why share the story of his life? Why remind him of his successes, when all she had were failures? Hatred burned in her golden eyes. She could not forgive him.
“I had a mate. Her name was Larewyn, and I loved her more than the sun and the moon and the stars. You met her.”
The black female nodded, remembering the encounter. She had torn out the woman’s eye for her allegiance to Shandom. The memory had grown fainter as time passed in this timeless land. Still, she had enough of her old self to recall the incident.
“You killed me in front of them. I remember how Alyshia screamed and Larewyn wept. I could not comfort them as I bled out in front of my pack mates.”
“And what makes you think I care about any of this?”
Linquilea’s voice was harsh, angry; she did not want to know about Shandom’s life. It had been her intention to ruin it, and she was not about to apologize for her actions. Nothing had given her greater satisfaction while her heart beat. Nothing made her happier than to watch the sobs of those he had loved and who loved him. His life’s blood stained the ground, and Linquilea had laughed maniacally. She had never felt so victorious.
Shandom did not react with anger to her words, as she had anticipated. Instead, he gazed at her with an expression she could not identify. She thought it might be love.
Xx
“I had children as well, after… After everything. I do not remember their names either, with the exception of two. Aryette and Chimera, my daughters. They were lovely, and they looked like…Like the ones before. I could not face them.”
It was Shandom’s turn to look away. His fault. Entirely his own fault. Two more lives, potentially ruined. How had their father treated them? Linquilea had not mentioned a mate, and he doubted there was one; simply a donor of genetics, someone who would consent to a night seeped in the smell of sex and the responsibility of children. He had to assume it was the Alpha of her pack, though Shandom had always assumed that he was nothing more than a figurehead to enhance Lea’s beloved power.
“I brought them, that day. I wanted them to see what pain and suffering was like. I wanted them to understand the consequences for anyone who might hurt them, or what someone would do if they hurt that person’s kin. Aryette attacked your daughter, Alyshia. I am not sorry.”
He was not surprised.
“Have you seen them?”
Linquilea knew who he was referring to, and it was not the daughters she had just spoken of. Her guard hairs raised and a true, vicious snarl rose on her lips. Golden fire met subdued chocolate, and in that moment the familiar, all-consuming hate twisted around her soul once more.
“I cannot face them. Not yet.”
He did not speak.
“I hate you.”
“And you love me as well.”
“But I will hate you forever, or as long as I am allowed to. This is a strange place; it makes us forget who we were in life.”
“I know.”
“I wish I could hate you for the rest of forever.”
“I know you do.”
Their exchanges ceased after that for what seemed like another eternity. Neither saw anything wrong with that. There was nothing they could say.
Xx
“I never stopped loving you. Not even after you rendered me blind.”
Linquilea choked out a laugh. It sounded strange and foreign on her tongue. She wasn’t used to the sound, and she was not sure if she liked it.
“That doesn’t surprise me. You were always soft.”
Her tones were serious with a strange thread of humor. Shandom wasn’t sure how to approach it, but he gave her a tentative smile.
Of course, she did not return it. Instead, she looked at him with a strange and slightly confused expression, as if she were trying to contemplate something she could not quite understand.
Xx
“I tried to stop loving you.”
He didn’t say anything in response. Shandom understood that she would say something worthwhile, in time. If he interrupted the thoughts that were clearly struggling to form in her head, he might never get this opportunity again.
Linquilea’s mouth opened and closed several times, and her golden eyes darted around the nondescript landscape. She didn’t know what to say, and trying to formulate a coherent sentence took several minutes – or what might have, in fact, been years. Neither was entirely sure, though they were growing accustomed to this strange liquid time.
Eventually, she drew breath. Shandom knew she was about to speak, and fixed his gaze with hers, a gentle grin across dark lips.
“I spent days, consumed by the darkness of my own mind, trying to make myself stop loving you more than anything in the entire world. I absolutely hated you. You were the reason I could not find myself, and I was enveloped by this terrible blanket. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see – everything was different and dark. I was terrified, and I knew you were the reason for it. You had finally given in to your most powerful flaw – and don’t you think I never noticed! I knew how jealous you were of Jax and…them… I tried to help you, Shandom, I really did – I tried to show you that I still loved you, and you were still my best friend…You are my brother, Shandom… How could you have done this to me?”
Her words were choked with tears, and the ruined woman lowered her head to her paws, showing open grief for the first time since everything.
Shandom stood to comfort her, preparing to place one paw in front of the other, until he hesitated. He was not ready to be rejected by her.
But it was what she needed. This entire situation was his fault for not putting her needs above his own, for not realizing that love should make difficult decisions easy ones, because, at the end of the day, who wouldn’t do anything for love? Tentatively, the white man covered the space between them – it seemed to take ages of the earth – and placed his cool, damp nose on her dark skull, before gently licking between her pinned ears.
“I’m so sorry, Lea-belle. I’m so sorry.”
Xx
“You are not a bad creature, Lea-Belle. In spite of everything…”
His voice trailed off. Bound as they were in a sort of wolfish embrace, white and black together again, they had not noticed the gradual setting of the sun. Colors danced across their plain bodies; Shandom’s alabaster fur shone with reds and oranges, making him glow in the strangest way. Linquilea’s massive body was a different phenomenon. The blues that lurked within her ebony coat had come out, and though that color typically contrasted with the ones emerging from Shandom, they still made a striking pair. The end of their time in the in-between land was coming, though neither of them readily noticed it. They were too involved in the painful process of forgiveness and the cleansing of tainted love.
Lea’s golden eyes were now locked with Shandom’s, and the two were not as intimately connected. Still, the white man’s tail was curled, to the best of its ability, around the larger woman, and her forepaw brushed against his. It was a strange desire to be connected, probably conceived by the will of the Gods to get the process moving. But when two were as bonded as they, it was unlikely anything could ever permanently drive them apart. It was, unfortunately, destiny.
He drew breath again, to finish his statement.
“In spite of everything you have done… I believe it is my fault. No – that is the incorrect phrasing. I know it is my fault. Had I… Had I spared them, had I not succumbed to my own prejudices, we would have been okay. You would have been okay. And… Lea, I am so sorry for stealing that life from you.”
Lea looked away, unable to face him as he vocalized exactly what she’d been thinking for the past several years. It was his fault. What she was, what she did – everything was tied up in the singular mistake Shandom had made.
“I had no right.”
She scoffed.
“Of course you had no right. Nobody has the right to take a life. I violated that particular commandment a thousand times over.”
Xx
When darkness came, Linquilea and Shandom knew it was time for them to depart. Both stood and turned in a particular direction, following the sudden tug on their heart that compelled them to simply move. They walked, each step matching the other’s, and did not speak. The darkness was only for them; in this particular night, they were completely and utterly alone if not for the quiet rhythm of the other’s breathing and movement. Otherwise, it would have been unnerving and an impossible journey. Individually, they wondered if every creature took this journey of pairs. The walk to the end of the time was a terrifying thing, and one that could not be undertaken alone. It would not do to be alone in such a moment.
They were scared, though neither would admit it out loud. The journey to the end of the world was soon at an end; they could discern this from the soft glow of light that began to light their footsteps. Their gazes saw that their paws walked in the footsteps of many; it was a humbling thought to realize they were on the same path that every creature that ever existed would have to take. Soft, matching smiles grew on serene faces, and their eyes met.
“Are you ready?” Shandom whispered, gently nudging his sister with his smaller head.
She nodded, though the white male could tell she was nervous. He could always tell with her. “I’m with you, Shandom. I will always be ready.”
The pair stepped into the eerie and comforting glow, and everything ended.
Xx
Two puppies were born in the same moment: one black, one white. A female and a male, born to different parents with the same entangled fate. Their high pitched squalls disrupted the silence of the cold March night, and the eager steps of males bounded into separate dens.
Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of humor. Reincarnation happened to every creature, regardless of significance, but it was a rare occasion that situations were duplicated in later years.