It had been two days since the confrontation with Cormac. In that time, the elders had been submitting request after request, edict after edict, begging Kiel to grant the witch an audience. They had summoned him to meetings, but Kiel had refused, burning the edict papers and dismissing the council, saying he didn't want to see anyone. He had been hoarding himself in his house, avoiding all contact.
But today was different.
The elders, dressed in their finest ceremonial robes, knelt before Kiel's house, their aged faces creased with worry and determination. They refused to stand up until Kiel granted them an audience, until he agreed to hear their plea to let Cormac and his people in.
The weather, however, was not on their side. Dark clouds gathered, heavy with rain, casting a somber mood over the scene. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and whipping the elders' robes about, but they didn't flinch.
Kiel's house loomed above them, silent and imposing, its windows shuttered and its doors closed. The only sound was the creaking of the trees and the distant rumble of thunder.
One of the elders, a frail old man with a wispy beard, spoke up, his voice shaking with emotion. "Alpha Kiel, we beg of you, please, hear us. The witch's presence is a blessing, not a curse. He can bring prosperity and protection to our pack. Please, have mercy."
The other elders echoed his words, their voices blending together in a chorus of supplication. But Kiel's house remained silent, unresponsive.
The elders' faces were etched with worry, their eyes pleading, as they waited for Kiel's response. The air was heavy with tension, the only sound is the rustling of the wind and the distant rumble of thunder.
Ash made his way to Kiel's floor, the tension in the air tense as he walked down the hallway. The maids and guides were on edge, their footsteps light and cautious, as if they were trying not to disturb a sleeping beast. The past two days had been difficult, with Kiel's temper fuming and his patience wearing thin. Everyone was walking on eggshells, afraid to say or do anything that might set him off.
Even Damiel, Kiel's usually fearless and confident advisor, had been keeping his distance, leaving Ash to face the alpha alone.
As Ash approached Kiel's study, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A voice growled from the other side, "Didn't I order that I don't want to see anyone?"
Ash replied, his voice calm and respectful, "It's me, your beta, Supreme Alpha Kiel."
There was no response, and Ash waited for a moment before saying, "Should I come in?"
The silence that followed was oppressive, and Ash knew that Kiel was in no mood to be disturbed. But he had to try. After a few minutes of waiting, Ash decided to take a chance and entered the study.
The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small window that filtered in a weak beam of gray light. Kiel sat at his desk, his back to the door, his shoulders hunched over as he worked on a sculpture. Ash's eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he saw what Kiel was creating - a wolf, its features emerging from the wood as if it was coming to life.
But Ash's attention was drawn to Kiel's hands, specifically the silver tool he was using to carve the wood. He felt a jolt of concern, knowing that silver was poison to their kind, causing pain and agony if it touched their skin.
Kiel was deliberately using the silver, Ash realized, his heart sinking. He was hurting himself, using the pain to fuel his anger and frustration.
Ash's eyes met Kiel's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them almost palpable.
Ash's words hung in the air, "You're hurting yourself."
Kiel's gaze never wipped, his eyes fixed on the sculpture in front of him. "I remember when my mother taught me how to sculpt," he said, his voice low and wistful. "She was so patient, so calm. She made it look effortless, like the wood was begging to be shaped into something beautiful."
Ash listened, his heart aching, as Kiel's eyes clouded with memories.
"She made a small sculpture of my father," Kiel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was so lifelike, so full of love. I was amazed. I wanted to make something just like it, something that would make her proud."
Kiel's gaze drifted off, lost in the past.
"I worked on it for a year," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "One year, Ash. And when I finally got it right, the look on her face...it was like the sun had risen in her eyes. She was so happy, so proud of me."
Ash's heart swelled with empathy. "Sculpture can be hard work," he said gently. "But it's worth it, isn't it? When you see something beautiful emerge from the wood, it's like magic."
Kiel's eyes snapped back into focus, and he looked at Ash, his expression hardening. "Why don't you just let the witch in?" Ash asked, his voice soft.
Kiel's face twisted in a snarl. "Nothing good ever comes from witches," he growled. "That day, when I saw my mother...in the pool of blood...I made a vow that I would never allow any witch to set foot in my land. They're heartless, merciless. Killing people is like making a potion to them."
Ash's heart sank, but he pressed on. "Your people are outside, Your Majesty," he said, his voice urgent. "Any minute, the rain can turn into a deluge. You know how they can be if they have made up their minds."
As if on cue, the storm outside erupted, the rain pounding against the windows like a thousand drums. Ash's words hung in the air, and Kiel's face seemed to crack, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration.
Ash took a step forward, his voice softening. "I want you to think about your people, Alpha," he said. "They're outside in the rain, pleading for your mercy. Please, make your decision."
With that, Ash turned and left, leaving Kiel to wrestle with his demons.