The Wolf Queen
Chapter 17: The Order Rising

1202- March

THE FIVE SPEND THE next two months cleaning the house. Ian, Raoul, Runir and William are outside most of the days. While Amaryllis and Abarrane do most of the work inside. Channin, having been provided for for much of her life, does what she can and attempts what she can’t.

Her already thin patience wears out and she begins to get restless.

“She’s done nothing but pace all day.” Amaryllis complains, “Take her somewhere.”

“Like where?” Will tilts his head, “We can’t exactly just take a walk around.”

“I can’t get anything done if I have to continually give her something to do.” Amaryllis whispers, “Not to mention, she’s miserable.”

“Alright.” He agrees, setting out to find her.

Channin is sitting on her bedroom floor, drawing. He stops himself before knocking, just watching her in her creative state. Her hair is in a braid, but falling out in places. She’s wearing a dark colored dress from Abarrane, it’s just a little bit short on her.

“You know you can come in.” she says without looking up.

“I also know you are fiercely protective of your drawings.” He steps into the room.

She sighs and holds it up. It’s almost finished, just a little bit of shading left to do.

“It’s-” He tilts his head, stunned by her abilities, “Omega. Right?”

She nods, turning around to face him, “It’s hard to get it right from memory.” She looks back at the drawing. One of the spikes on his head might be wrong, but she can’t tell.

That gives Will an idea, “Why don’t we go see him?”

She blankly stares at him for a moment. She’s adopted his distrust recently. What is his end game? Where is he taking this?

“I’m sure he’d like to know we found a home. He might want out of that cave.”

She jumps up, throwing her arms around his neck, “Thank you. Yes. Let’s go right now.” Channin races out the door, leaving Will behind. She comes back within seconds to grab her shoes and plant a kiss on him. Smiling brightly, she skips back out the door.

The snow has melted and a few of the trees have started to grow leaves. The nights are getting longer, but it is still getting dark before they reach my cave. Channin leads the way, tightly holding Will’s hand.

“Omega.” She calls.

I lift my head to greet her.

“We brought you something.” She tosses a dead rabbit at me. I swallow it whole, the first food I’ve had in a few days.

“What have you been up too?” I ask, wanting to mention how long it has been since they last visited.

“The usual.” Will shrugs, “We found a place hidden well enough for you. If you want.”

I swish my tail, suspicious, “And what do you get out of it?” William wouldn’t offer this without a good reason.

“Please, Omega.” Channin begs. She is his reason. Channin is bubbly, excitable, out of character for her. She is lonely in their new home. Will’s mind is on the uprising and not on her. The princess isn’t accustomed to sharing attention with anything.

“This is my home,” I say, trying to force his hand.

Channin sighs, “I just wondered if you wanted to help with the rebellion.”

“We could really use your help.” Will adds. He’s a General. And a good one. He sees through my efforts and has a counter ready.

“I am not a weapon.”

“No,” Channin smiles, “But the King doesn’t have to know that.”

My spikes stand on end, “Go on.”

“We are planning to ambush the supply line at night.” Will picks up a stick and draws two stars in the dirt. “This is Dawncliff and this is Toma. Supplies are coming out of Toma and going to Paedleigh.” He traces the line out past Dawncliff, finishing it off with a circle.

“You’re going to take from the people you are trying to help?”

Channin recoils, Will doesn’t.

“You think they are getting any of that?” he raises his head, “They King will feed his soldiers first, then the people.”

“You want to cut off their supply line.” I correct myself, begrudgingly.

He nods, “Then we can take Paedleigh.”

“Why are you so obsessed with Paedleigh?”

“Because what happened there is wrong.” Will states.

My tolerance of him is fading, “Do you think that Paedleigh is the first to go? How many cities must burn before one strikes a chord? Dawncliff has been rebuilt twice. The Sister Cities use to be on the coast. Asnebel. Sholuna. Sashia. Take your pick. Paedleigh is not the first and it will not be the last. Destruction is part of war. There might not be anything left to rule if you take Laneyth by force.”

“And what do you suggest?”

I sigh, “If Channin challenges Svetozar and wins, by the laws of Shapeshifters, she is the Queen. If she loses though, she will be tried for treason and executed.”

“There’s got to be another way.” Will looks back to his dirt map, “We could take Dragonspire.”

“The most heavily fortified castle in our world? Good idea. I’ll stay here and plan your funeral.”

Will starts to argue but Channin stops him.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” We are both a little surprised.

“The two of you can train me.” She’s looking at the floor, expressionless. “I can get stronger and I can beat him.”

“Channin, no.” Will turns away from me, “You don’t have to fight him.” He tries to lift her head up to him.

“And what Will?” her green eyes flick to him, “If I want to show people that I’ll be a better monarch, I’ve got to show them that I will fight for them. Don’t ask someone to do something you aren’t willing to do yourself, right?” She backs away, defiant.

Will sighs, he knows she is right and nothing he can say will change her mind.

The moon is half full this night and is high in the sky when we reach Ravenguard. Two vampires, an Elf, and a werewolf are gathered around the table. They look up as we enter, studying the three of us.

“Uhm, welcome home?” the Elf raises an eyebrow.

The werewolf laughs loudly, “You found a dragon.”

“Channin was bored,” Will shrugs. He nudges a chair out for her and sits down.

“Everyone, this is Omega.” Channin introduces me, taking the place where Will moved the chair. The pair fill everyone in on their new plan. They decide as a group to continue with the plan to cut off the supply lines in the meantime.

I curl up by the fireplace and listen intently to the conversation. Channin and Will share the lead, but take everyone’s opinion into consideration.

“You know,” Runir says, looking over the map, “If this works, we will go down in history. Don’t you think we should call ourselves something? Other than misfits.” He glares at Abarrane who was getting ready to speak. She shuts her mouth and leans back in her chair.

“The Order of Night.” Channin says, “I don’t know what it means, so don’t ask.”

“The Order of Night it is.” Ian nods.

That is where the rebellion is formed. In an abandoned house, around a dusty table in the middle of the night. It is not lavish or loud, it is not fiery, it is a whisper. A quiet agreement between friends, to revolt against a powerful foe. I witnessed the beginning and I was there for the end.

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