Nikolai
833AD
A crow can be heard in the distance. A fog is rolling in over the water and creeping up onto the shore. Soon the entire town will be swallowed whole. Nobody wants to be caught in the fog.
Doors are bolted. Windows are locked and curtains are drawn. It’s not safe when the crow cries out its omen.
Soon to follow is the baying of wolves from the woods nearby. Nobody has lived to see what comes out of the fog.
She emerges from the trees, the fog parts for her just as the waves did for Moses. A breeze blows through the once still air. In it the woman’s hair is caught in the wind’s gentle caress. Two wolves are flanking her, their mouths wet with blood. A necklace of wolf's bones hangs from her neck, and black fur covers her shoulders.
The town was small, only a few of dirt roads with roughly built homes and shops. A town that in a few decades would be swallowed up by growing cities and fishing ports. There were many buildings left half finished, homes yet to be built with people living in makeshift shelters. The poorer folk who had lost everything to pillagers had come to other towns. The poorer folk would freeze in the cold when it came.
The fog was a mercy. She was mercy.
"Иди, охоту," go hunt she tells them. The Russian language rolling off her tongue in the way water moves over rocks -- smooth.
Bloodthirsty they pad off in separate directions to find those unfortunate enough to have nowhere to hide. It’s not the hunt she is after this time, but the dogs need to keep their strength up. The woman steps through the streets looking from door to door. Window to window. A slow smile creeping onto her face.
Their fear was a palpable thing.
She liked fear. Fear was something she could understand. Everyone had something they feared, the only difference was some people didn’t let it control them. Most of all she liked the way fear tasted on her tongue when it was as thick as this fog.
Not far away her head snaps in the direction of the sound of a breaking twig. Nobody was stupid enough to move like that when the fog rolled in. Sure steps led the woman to a stable. However, just before she could get any closer a white wolf leaped out in front of her.
“Sit, dog,” she spoke harshly, watching as the wolf sat with seemingly no choice in the matter. A low whine came from the wolf’s throat, and the woman knew she was worried about something.
“Don’t hurt my friend,” a small Russian boy said as he stepped out from the shadows.
“Your dog is fine. What are you doing out here? Don’t you know what comes with the fog, boy?” Curious she tilted her head to the side.
“Death. Are you death?” He asked the woman, so brave for such a small boy.
“No. Death is much more eternal than I. What’s your name?”
“Nikolai Vetrov. Son of Victor Vetrov. What is your name?”
The woman looked down, her crystal blue eyes staring into the boy’s curious hazel ones. She studied him for a few minutes as if she were trying to see into his soul. Drumming her fingers on the wooden frame of the stable. Lost in thought her gaze drifts to the side catching a glimpse of one of the wolves. “Why are you outside?” The woman asked Nikolai without looking at him.
There was silence for several minutes. When she did look back it was to see Nikolai sitting on the straw covered ground. He looked smaller than he already was. She wondered what was on his mind. Why wasn’t he answering her?
Of course, Nikolai had questions which had been unanswered. He didn’t know what to make of her. Was this woman why the fog was here? Why wasn’t she telling him her name? Heaving a sigh he looked up at her. “My father threw me out. He said I would be worth more to him if I was dead. Cost money and I am growing too fast and eating too much.”
“When the fog clears and the birds fly once again go to your father and tell him you have seen what comes in the fog. Tell your father the fog has spoken to you and told you there will be no need to hide from it any longer. Tell your father you have reasoned with the beast. Ask him of your worth then.” She was outraged. How could parents be so cruel?
As Nikolai listened he could imagine the look on his papa’s face. He would be the town here at least for a little while. Maybe even there would be pride on his face again.
“Give these to your father,” the woman said as she untied a pouch from a belt around her waist. She held them out to the boy.
“Why?” Nikolai asked. Looking at the bag for a few moments before he reached up with trembling fingers and took the bag.
The woman shrugged her shoulder. The wolves were rounding back towards her now. “I want to.” She heard the white wolf growl, causing the blonde to look over her shoulder in its direction. “Your friend is getting anxious. It is time for me to leave.” She turned on her heel to begin and leave.
“You never told me your name...”
With a glance over her shoulder, the woman smiled at the boy. “I’ll tell you in ten years.”
Before Nikolai could say anything else the fog thickened for a few moments before it lifted. The woman had gone with it.
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Nobody had survived the fog before tonight. As the fog lifted Nikolai finally found his footing and moved to crouch next to his beloved friend. Nikolai stroked his fingers through her white fur, scratching her behind the ears. “All is right, Luna, let’s go home.” When he stood, so did Luna, sometimes it was as though she knew exactly what he was saying. As though she were more than just a wolf. More than just his friend.
People began to open their windows and unlock their doors. From the stables, Nikolai had seen his father stumble drunk in front of their home.
Their eyes met and for a moment, Nikolai had forgotten all about the fog and the woman in it. Before he saw the disappointment on his father’s face. Oh.
His legs were made of lead as he trudged towards his home with the still shaken wolf at his side. He would check on her more later, once he’d dealt with his father.
“The fog didn’t even think you good enough?” His father hissed the question at the young boy.
The words were knives cutting into him. Nikolai said nothing at first. Instead he took the pouch and held it up for his father, Viktor to see. “I looked into the eyes of the beast, papa,” his eyes gleaming with pride. “It told me there is no more reason to fear the fog.” The boy shoved the pouch against his father’s chest and pushed past Victor to enter the home.
The beast. Could she really be a beast when she had spared his life? Nikolai didn’t know. One thing he was sure of however was hers was a face he would not soon forget.