Book 1 Chapter 22: The Final Piece

Vero laid in his bed and pondered on what Ylva had told him all those years ago. He was certain he wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. How could she be so sure that he was the black wolf that was spoken of in those ancient books. While on multiple occasion he had taken charge when no one else was available, it didn’t mean that he felt like he was up to the task. At least, not yet.

He thought about what Amarok had said that the next black wolf would do and what he would accomplish and he realized that some of it, he was already working on. It made him hopeful that things would turn out alright but in another sense it filled him with dread since it only further proved the point that he was the new black wolf. As if by habit, he silently offered up a prayer to Veles that he would receive that promised guidance and help along with courage and peace of mind. Feeling overwhelmed he drifted to a fitful sleep.

As sunlight filtered into the room, Vero quietly roused himself, feeling worse for wear than he had when he had gone to sleep. He began his morning ritual to get ready for the day as his mind wandered back to his identity. With an unknown determination, he quickly hurried through his morning and headed to the library. He pulled out one of the books that they had finished translating and he quietly began to peruse through it. He came to the prophecies concerning himself and began to devour each word. He knew that sometimes the previous black wolf had spoken in parables concerning what was to happen in the future, and that even the words of the seer, who helped him, also had said that those who learn of these parables were to be taught, bit by bit, as their understanding grew, but he wished he could just learn it outright, instead of piece by piece.

He decided that this was more like a giant puzzle so he slowly came to a desk where he could write his thoughts out. Perhaps his gift had not come to him yet, or he was not yet prepared for it.

Whatever the case, he only hoped he could be the leader that he was supposed to be. If not for his own sake, he wanted it so he could help his master and the master’s wife. She had been good to him so far, in her own way, and he felt that she sometimes thought of him as a little brother. He smiled when he thought of this and closed his eyes.

If she was there to help him, then he supposed that things couldn’t be all that bad. After all, she too had been a fish out of water, when she had come to this place, but she had adapted to her circumstances. He noticed the sound of someone’s footfalls coming towards him and he peeked open one eye to see Ylva standing there.

“Good morning, milady,” Vero greeted and she cocked her head to the side with a neutral expression.

“You can call me Ylva, in fact I would prefer if you did,” she said and he looked at her as if she was daft.

“Come on Vero lad, I have been putting up with you calling me every royal title under the sun since I got here, but I am sick of it.”

“I would rather call you Alpha than Ylva,” he said under his breath but she caught each word.

“And why is that,” she asked, slightly annoyed.

“I am but a page, as the human’s put it, and to call you anything underneath your station is unfitting,” he replied and she looked at him with slitted eyes.

“Since when did you gain some back bone,” she asked and he looked at her as if she was nuts.

“I’ve always had a back bone,” he commented and she tried to suppress a laugh.

“Oh like the time you fainted at the mere sight of me?” she said back and he growled.

“That was over ten years ago,” he countered with a huff, to which she became very quiet and very still.

“Ten years ago huh,” she whispered and Vero peered at her with curiosity. Of course ten or so years had passed since she had come here and while he hadn’t kept track very well, it was still a long time.

“I think you’re off by two years Vero,” she said and looked directly into his eyes. “It’s been twelve years,” she corrected and Vero rolled his eyes and let out a breath as he folded his arms.

“So twelve years,” Vero emphasized the twelve as he shifted his weight. “I think that’s adequate time to grow a back bone and you’ve heard that year thirteen is supposed to be lucky. Just wait. Master will be back and we will have taken care of those priests of the black wolf all within year thirteen.” Vero said and Ylva looked at him in surprise then chuckled.

“You’re setting the bar a bit high. Don’t you think.”

“I’m young, I can put unrealistic expectations on a year,” Vero teased and Ylva rolled her eyes.

“But only if you put in the work, can something like that happen,” she responded and he nodded. Goals were great, but only dedicated to the work would see them through.

“Have you finished the last translation?” Vero asked and Ylva nodded.

“Finished it last night, after you went to sleep,” she said as she pulled out a manuscript and handed it to him. Vero tentatively reached for it and began glancing through the pages. Now this last part was on him. At least he didn’t have the ‘honor’ of gathering the accusation and presenting it.

That was Ylva’s job.