---

Cyrus

With each day that passed, the plague worsened. The once-clear waters of Fate's Respite were now a sickly purple, thick and slimy and acidic to the touch - and through whatever curse had transformed it now caused all within a few miles' radius to feel drawn to its poison, compelled by an unquenchable thirst to drink, drink, drink. It burned their throats and scarred their insides, but still they supped of its toxic gift.

It had to stop.

Valeska knew she was declining rapidly. All around her, the wolves of Elysium either worsened with her or left of their own volition - but she had stayed. Up to this point she had stubbornly refused to leave, her heart loath to relinquish the place she had called home for so many years.

So many memories...

And now it was killing them.

She was no better than her father. He had suffered the same - forced to choose between losing the home his family had laid claim to for generations, or death. Dimas had bitterly rebuked any who tried to leave, corralling them back into their territory; he was certain conditions would improve, prey would return, they had no reason to abandon it -

And so he watched them die, until he, too, succumbed to hunger.

While Valeska had not forced anyone to stay, many had out of loyalty or love - and now she saw how selfish she was to remain. Elysium was her responsibility, under her care, her protection, her love, and she was killing them.

She would make the announcement tomorrow.

Until then, she walked the edge of Fate's Respite, staying up well past her normal hours just to drink it in for one last time. Who knows if they would ever be able to return - if the lake would ever clear again, if the plague would lift and life return as it was before.

Her paws carried her a little ways beyond the border, and she recognized a shape through the darkness.

Cyrus, she rasped, her voice raw and ragged from too many sips of the lake. I am surprised you are still here.

Valeska sat next to him.

Tomorrow... we will be leaving this place, she said quietly, looking out toward the clouded sky overhead. Possibly to Frostfang Vale, Houtu willing Dawnbreak will be open to us.

She turned to look at him, but his expression was unreadable beneath the cover of night. He seemed unusually quiet.

Thank you for staying as long as you did, even if it was through my own foolish choices. You have always been so good to us.

Cyrus had yet to escape the pressures of this land, his feet keeping him frozen to the ground after all that had happened. But he felt like he wasn't here at the same time. A total disconnect had taken over, eventually broken up at the sound of someone's voice. That's when he froze almost entirely. It was Valeska, someone that he had grown to care for deeply as a leader and friend. But she was also Aelia's mother. What was he supposed to say to her? How could he tell her how much he had screwed up?

Hopefully it wouldn't have to be brought to the surface. She spoke of how much she appreciated him, how he had done so much. It was a blow to his spirit. A feeling of betrayal hit him hard, that she would say such things of a man that was such a screw up. Cyrus didn't look at her for a few minutes, too scared of what would come out of his mouth if he made direct eye contact. I guess I couldn't leave quite yet either. Had some unfinished business that I needed to attend to. I also just love this place too much, it felt awful to want to leave it. Like I was abandoning it.

His voice was hard to describe, as if it didn't really belong to him. Instead to a foreign being entirely. I don't see why not. Dawnbreak should open their arms to us, understanding what we are going through at the very least. I'm sure it will all end well enough. He hadn't yet met the wolves of Dawnbreak, at least he didn't think so. There was one wolf he had met a long time ago now, but he couldn't recall where she said she was from.

Valeska had been sitting down next to him this whole time, now making it more difficult to hide his facial features within the darkness. I do what I can. I have always been grateful for what you and your pack have given me. Even when I felt like I didn't deserve it. And he still didn't feel like he deserved it. Now more then ever, he didn't deserve it.

The last she had ever heard Cyrus speak of Aelia, he had been shy, almost regretful and ashamed in the way he felt toward her - and then Valeska had heard precious little since, simply assuming the crush had fizzled out or nothing came of it in the end. Either way, the golden Daystar was the most free-spirited of her children and often went where her whims took her, and all Valeska could do was offer wise counsel (possibly against deaf ears) and try to be a place of shelter and protection should the girl ever have need of it.

Narcissa's disappearance had been a hard lesson in letting go - she would never know what happened to her, and the loss had been a blow she still struggled to come back from.

Valeska puzzled over his statement. Unfinished business? The wolf had always been quite stoic, steadfast in his ways and never stirring up trouble; she couldn't imagine what loose ends he may have had to tie up, given his peaceful nature. She wanted to ask.

She was nosy.

She asked.

What sort of unfinished business? she inquired, golden eyes piercing like arrows through the darkness between them. It was simply the way she looked at others, but it was often very unnerving - Valeska was many things, and above all, direct. A gentle smile softened her features.

I also feel as if I am abandoning this place, she said. Her throat burned, and she stifled a cough. But - it is not worth the lives of our packmates to stay from stubborn foolishness. Hrrraaacckkkk. Already we have lost... Nemean and Fleetwood...

Her voice trailed off into a hoarse whisper full of pain and regret.

Even I am killing myself in - hack - stupidity, she continued. But you sound as if you are preparing to leave us forever. It is - hrrraack - your choice, but I must ask... why?

Shifting her weight, Valeska turned her body to better face him; it wasn't quite confrontational, but he might have a hard time leaving the conversation if he tried. Cyrus was easily several times her size, but she had lived six and a half years through sheer force of will, and Houtu help the man should that will be turned against him.

And through it all, a kind smile coursed her lips.
Never malicious; just sincere, and perhaps a little stupid.

You do not have to tell me if you do not wish to.

She wielded her inquisitive nature like a sharpened blade.

There was almost instant regret at his choice of words. Instantly he could tell that Valeska was curious about what he had meant. But he didn't cringe, didn't flinch or shy away. It was better to tell the truth and just get it out of the way, rather then hide things and make it worse.

I had been seeking others out to see if anyone wanted to leave with me to the other packs, this was a bit after our last pack meeting. But there had been thoughts of Aelia keeping me awake, and one night, I went for a run to get them out of my head and to calm myself. I ran into Aelia that night, and we got into a fight. It didn't end well. And I still feel bad about it to this day.

Cyrus then looked to Valeska, wanting her to see in his eyes that his words held truth and also remorse. He wouldn't survive if he knew that he would also lose her as a friend and pack leader. Valeska had won him over the first time he had met her, and cherished their friendship greatly. Now that friendship was on the line. Her cough was a reminder of the trajedy that their pack was dealing with. Reminding also that he didn't want to lose anyone else. Nemean and Fleetwood weren't close to Cyrus, just seeing each other in passing or at meetings. But he still held them with high regard and wished they were still here.

No, nothing is worth our packmates. We must keep everyone safe and happy at all costs. That much I must try to do as best I can, to help you all. We will make it through this, somehow. Cyrus understood very much how she felt, but didn't believe she was stupid for holding on to what she cared about. Don't be too hard on yourself. You were just following your heart, that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's hard sometimes to make difficult decisions. Something that he was now learning to do at this point in time. He listened to her next question, immediately wanting to defend himself. But not against her words, or Valeska herself.

No, I would never leave this pack unless someone wanted me to. Or I had done something to be punished for. Which brings me back to Aelia. I didn't hurt her, at least not physically. But the fight has left us torn from one another. I have to admit something to you, that Aelia and I had sexual relations at one point. Just once, and it was of her consent. Otherwise I wouldn't have done so. I thought she was happy, at least she was the last time I saw her before the fight. Then she just stayed away. I would have gone to see her, but then I thought that she just didn't want to see me. I thought that I had done something wrong, so I stayed away in case she needed some time to herself. I didn't want to press her.

Now it was getting harder to keep himself together. He could feel a sudden shaking in his legs, a quiver to his voice as he tried to finish his side of the story. That night she ran into me, she called me a coward. Claimed that I was ashamed of making love to her. And that she was ashamed that it wasn't with someone I had never heard of. Someone called Augustus. I apologized for the things that she accused me of, as I didn't want to make her feel worse then she already had. If she believed that she was in the right, who was I to tell her that she was wrong?Slowly tears began to roll from his eyes, down his cheeks and dampening the fur of his cheeks.

I told her that despite all that she had said to me, the words and accusations, that I wasn't mad at her. That I couldn't bring myself to hate her nor come at her for her damaging words. I told her finally that I truly loved her, but I cannot recall what she said after that. Everything just kind of went numb, my ears becoming deafened to anything else around me. I felt like my world was falling apart. Now I see that I should have never done anything with her. Had I known that she cared for someone that greatly, I would have never tried to court her. I just want Aelia to be happy and to not hurt any more. If that means that I leave and she never sees me again, then so be it. I will accept that or worse as my punishment if you and Amaranth see fit.

The truth of everything that had happened came rolling out of his mouth at warp speed, coming out of him as if by vomiting. And it felt awful to have to tell this to her mother of all wolves. Now he just sat there and waited, wondering if he was indeed going to be punished for what he had done, the pain he had caused. Silence now overcame him, words no longer able to form on his lips as he tried to keep looking at Valeska with honesty, loyalty and integrity.

Hearing the word 'Aelia' shortly followed by 'fight' did not particularly surprise Valeska given her daughter had always possessed a fiery spirit. If he had told her they instead shared a calm, uneventful evening together in complete silence, she wouldn't have believed him - or further, assumed Aelia to be gravely ill and in need of medical attention.

The fact that they apparently hadn't parted on good terms was troubling, but she kept quiet and listened as respectfully as she could.

How earnestly Cyrus locked eyes with her own, how imploringly he probed her expression for signs of understanding and acknowledgement, and Valeska obliged the man as best as she was able. It was difficult to maintain her composure with another gods-damned tickle starting at the back of her throat, but she stifled the bubbling cough with the resolution of a soldier and regarded him with utmost sincerity as he continued to speak.

It was kind of him to reassure her own worries, but she shook her head with a bitter smile, feeling the pain of regret clawing at her chest even now as she envisioned the vacant eyes of her friends as they stared lifelessly, accusingly back at her.

She had orphaned Nemean and Fleetwood's children.

No one else.

Their conversation gradually returned to the matter at hand. Her expression shifted into one of ill-concealed surprise as he mentioned a more intimate relationship with her daughter, but Valeska had always known better than to try and govern the whims of her children - children that were grown and capable of making their own choices, for better or for worse. So long as they were safe, so long as they were happy, it mattered little.

Aelia could have done far worse than Cyrus.

In fact, to her, he had always been one of their finest; brave, selfless, noble, and tragically handsome in the way that lovelorn men so often were (how on earth hadn't she seen it sooner, the longing written across his face? How could she have mistaken it for anything else?). Valeska had long known in her heart that he would never lie to her - not to her, or anyone else. He just wasn't that sort of wolf.

And so she believed him wholeheartedly.

Ah... Augustus.

The name was a sorrowful reminder of a ghost from the past. He had vanished along with his father Tiberius some moons ago, a childhood friend (and frequent tormentor) of Aelia's. He had delighted in calling her names and comparing her golden fur to a shade of piss, something Valeska had not tolerated and very roundly clocked him for on the too-rare occasion she was there to hear it. She had not been privy to their gentler moments with each other, and so she struggled to understand what Aelia had seen in the boy - but love was, as they say, blind.

Valeska always thought she preferred men, for example.

Now she had a wife and eight children.

I think, she said very slowly, taking time to digest the information as best she could, That you acted upon your heart. Nothing you have told me was done out of anything else but love - not pride, or selfishness, or a wish to see her hurt.

She studied the heavy tears that rolled down his cheeks, and she smiled sympathetically. Sometimes it is... difficult for others to see things as we mean them, versus how they appear, she continued. Aelia has always reacted with great passion to everything. She is also young, still, and the world is so much more terrible and vibrant and impactful when you have seen less of it.

The High Priestess studied the pain scrawled across his agonized features, and without much thought behind the action she hoisted herself up and over until she sat right next to him and pressed her warmth into his side. It was an almost motherly gesture, borne of habit after many a crying child had come to her side with their woes, and it had always been her great privilege to be the one to listen to them.

Given her comparative stature, a few Cyrus-tears may have dribbled down and plopped onto her forehead, but she didn't mind it.

So long as you wish to call us your home, it will always be so, she said with finality. There shall always be squibbles - er - squabbles in any family, whether it is a pack or a pair. Understanding is something that must be shared; all you can do is speak your earnest truth, and it is up to the other wolf to hear it. I do not think either of you have ever intended to hurt each other.

She pulled away momentarily to look up at him as her expression softened.

Perhaps you will have the opportunity to speak again, but do not let it fester in your heart. Aelia knows her own soul, and right now she is clouded by a grief she holds close to her chest. If you see her again, maybe ask. It may do her well to talk about him to someone who truly wishes to hear her, she offered. Sometimes all it takes is to be seen.

Ah dearest Valeska. What on earth did he ever do to deserve such a faithful friend and leader? Cyrus could feel her coming close to him, feel her warmth as she pressed against him in the most motherly fashion. It surprised him in a way, brought back feelings he never thought would come back. In that moment, he was that little gold pup again, crying for his mother and wishing that she could take away all the hurt that his life had caused him. And she very much did.

Valeska was now doing the same thing. The tears still came, but smaller this time. He did his best to calm himself down as her voice broke the chilling silence. The name that spilled from Aelia's mouth, soon came from her mother's. Though this time with more disdain but didn't seem surprised. Cyrus kept quiet about the male, not really in the mindset to speak of someone that has unknowingly caused him so much grief. Instead he listened more to Valeska's words, honed in on her voice as it pulled him back from the brink of annihilation.

I would never lie to you. I would be a disgrace further, to betray the trust of such a friend. Cyrus meant what he said, never imagining that he would cause such further pain to those that had put so much faith in him. He turned to face her as she moved back again briefly. I do very much still want to stay with this pack. This is my home, it feels like it's always been my home. Even with the troubles that I have been through here. So long as I am wanted and needed here, I will never go.

This was the only home that he knew. Where else would he even go? Cyrus nodded as she spoke of how pain and hurt can make others say things that they might not mean, or that they will regret. It made him glad that he didn't strike back when he had the chance. Words were just as powerful and painful as physical harm, sometimes even more so. That was a lesson that Aelia would now have to learn. But he would also have to learn to, learn to listen and learn to put his own needs and desires aside. If she is willing to see me without scorn, and we have both healed and moved on, I will gladly ask her of him. I will do anything to make sure that she is heard and seen. But this time, if she so wishes it, just as a friend. Something that he very much wasn't so sure of right now.

Out of respect for his dignity, Valeska did not draw further attention to his sorrow; she only pressed into him a little bit more firmly, hoping her presence and force of will might drive away the tears that spilled gently down his cheeks. Cyrus did not strike her as a man who wept easily, and so she tried to treat the situation with as much tact as she was capable of*.

Even if we must leave Fate's Respite for a time, we are still Elysium, and home is wherever we are, she said. You will never not be wanted, dear friend.

Impressively, Cyrus pulled himself together, rallying enough to calmly - although perhaps no less painfully - say his piece in the way of moving forward with Aelia. Her daughter was wild, willful; but she was not intentionally cruel. Like the sun she was named for, it was her nature to burn hot.

That is very kind of you, she said admiringly. I do not know where she wanders now - she is old enough to have such freedom, although I cannot help but worry - but perhaps she will return with a lighter heart.

Valeska smiled, although her features remained etched with concern.

If you need a distraction, I have intent to soon visit my grandchildren who reside with Avon, she said, rising to her paws and shaking out her coat. They could use an outlet. But! Ah, watch for the one that bites.

(That was most of them, but he didn't need to know that.)

---

*Very little.

It was such a huge relief to hear that he was still wanted, that he would always be wanted. Elysium would forever be his home, his pack. Valeska had secured that future here for him, and he would do his best to repay that kindness. Thank you, Valeska. Your kindness is most gracious. You are truly a very dear friend. He managed to muster a small smile, hanging on to the light that she had given him so freely with all his might. He nodded gently at the talk of Aelia being away, not to saddened by the news to be quite frank.

But he would attempt to ease the worry of the silver mother. I would not fret. She is a strong one, just like her parents. I'm sure she will come back safe and sound. And things will be okay in due time, just need to give her space and let her figure things out on her own. My own mother did that to me when I was young and wild. Though I was a different kind of wild. A part of his life that he was partially shamed of, but would never truly admit it out loud.

Talk of puppies brought his mind to a different place, happy to be of help to the little ones if he could and help to their family. I haven't seen some pups in a while. Sounds like a good time for sure. I would be happy to accompany you there. Cyrus could feel the sadness slowly ebbing away, being replaced by something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

I may go north and visit an old friend as well, if that is alright. I have found a friend in Arvid, the king of Northfall. Perhaps they are fairing better up there without all this plague nonsense. A hope that he was barely hanging on to when it came to the runes, plague and dream visions.