Alpha Problems

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J’ander led them through the trees, and as they came to two large trees that stretched higher than Aira could see even when craning her neck, the path officially changed from a stone riddled forest path to a completely paved one. A few paces further, soft light emanated from glass orbs that hung in the upper branches of the overhanging trees and bathed the path in a warm yellow glow. Further on, wood and brick houses began to line the path, getting higher and higher as their small party walked. Some had wooden signs with store or tavern names swinging on iron-wrought hangers on ground level and flower boxes in the upper windows. Those must have homes on the second stories, Aira figured. Apartments that shopkeepers lived in or rented out, she supposed. The road soon split into a large circle with grass lining its center along with a large tree, it’s trunk so wide that Aira would not be able to reach around it. 

It was all Aira could do not to stare. She had never seen such a gigantic tree. Her city was all stone and brick and metal. That was supposed be a testament to all the technological advances Nefti* had made. But ultimately, the enormity of the tree dwarfed anything that the Architects had built. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Tal whispered to her as he saw her staring.

She nodded and smiled up at Tal, “I never knew trees got that big.”

“It’s an old tree. Probably older than the oldest building made in this town. It houses many animal families. It is quite impressive.”

J’ander looked back and scowled, “It’s just a tree. Now come on, we are almost there.”
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He waved to them and pointed to a large wooden building. Its roof came to a point directly above the large double doors, and the walls were painting with various depictions of vines and flowers. Aira had to force her mouth to close because, though she came from a big city, she had never seen such an integration between nature and construction. She glanced over at Tal, but his face had taken a serious light. There was business to be done behind those doors.

J’ander held open the door to a long hallway. A crimson rug ran the length leading the way to a second set of doors. There, two werewolves stood at attention. Both wore tight leggings and loose tunics that were fastened with wide woven belts. Both held tall spears that topped them by nearly a foot of steel even though they rested on the floor. Aira stared as she realized that they both appeared to be women. She glanced at J’ander again and noticed his long flowing robes tied with a fine fabric belt, no weapons to be seen and recalled that he had called her a warrior simply because she was not in long robes.

“May I present Tal and Aira from Lartnek to see the council?” J’ander announced to the guards.

The warriors looked Tal and Aira up and down before nodding and opening the double doors to let the party into an octagonal room, a large oval table in its center. At its head sat a short haired woman, her yellow eyes narrowed as she watched Tal and Aira enter.

“I sent for you days ago. I was under the impression that Lartnek sent its ambassador via dragon wing. You should have arrived no later than two days ago. Your tardiness is costly.”

“My apologies, Alpha.” Tal bowed and motioned Aira to do the same.

She shot him a disgruntled glare but did as bid. She could catch on. He didn’t need to spell everything out. She wasn’t that backwards.

The Alpha pursed her lips and then nodded, gesturing to two empty chairs at the table. She then turned her attention to the other members of the council.

“As we all know, we have recently had a problem with our water and food supplies. It has been noted that many of the stores we have underground for our reserve water have been spoiled by dust and a chemical that is found in the deep caves nearby. Food storage in similar; underground storage containers have also been found to either be missing completely or similarly damaged. It is my opinion that there is a misunderstanding with our neighbors, or we have a problem with our storage sealant. It might be time to revisit how we store the resources most vital to our survival, especially given the technology created by the Schools in Naidow and Lartnek.”

“We’ve been storing food and water underground for over five centuries. Why should we stop now?” A robed werewolf interrupted the Alpha, his eyes green matched the shimmery thread that embroidered his fine robes.

“Trec has a point,” another robed werewolf said. They laid a hand down on the wooden table forcibly, “We shouldn’t be forced to change our traditions because Naidow says it is the best way!”

“I do not mean that we change our traditions to suit another kingdom’s, merely that we should look to new technology as a way to benefit our people if we have need of it.”

“Our neighbors, as you so glibly call those Nai-blinded dwarves, have been looking exceedingly fat and well-fed lately. Perhaps they want our land and are trying to starve us out of it!” Trec barked angrily.

“I wish them well if they are prospering, but if they are doing so from our stores, there shall be words, Alpha,” said the robed werewolf who had slapped the table earlier.
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The Alpha sighed and rubbed her temples with her forefingers then rose. She was not in robes. Instead, she wore clothes that were similar to the guards: tight fitting leggings and a loose tunic belted at the waist with a thick woven belt. A long dagger hung at her waist.

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Christine Fritzen, Author

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