The Will of the Wolf Father II

Lightning stabbed down from the night sky drenching the village in a fiery rain. Men were burned to cinders before they could scream. Yurts erupted in balls of flame, the roar of the blaze drowning out the cries of the dying.

Kona ran from his yurt clad in his loin cloth, sword in hand. A tall figure stood before him seemingly oblivious to the destruction around him. Lightning crackled from the shadow man’s finger tips, snaking up his left arm, momentarily illuminating his face. Kona’s frightened cry was cut short by a deafening crack and a blinding flash of light. Charred earth smoked where the Golvi once stood.

The dark figure advanced through the chaos. Half-clothed men and women holding swords and clutching children streamed past him into the darkness risking the dangers of the freezing snow fields rather than the certain death that had fallen suddenly on their village. The dark figure stopped at Kona’s yurt and stepped through the camel hair doorway. The small room stank of sweat and horse flesh. Slight movement beneath a pile of furs betrayed the presence of another. The dark figure crouched and pulled the furs aside.

“Elanari.” At her name the lightning stopped. She was bruised, her naked body a broken testament to the beatings she had received. He gathered her in furs and lifted her gently in his arms. She smiled beautifully through split lips and a swollen right eye. He smiled back, unshed tears shining in his eyes. Outside, the yurts still blazed bathing the night sky in a fiery glow. Linu stood in the shadow of his collapsed yurt and watched the dark figure escape with his prize. The Wolf Father had revealed his champion. The time of the Golvi had come at last.