Brothers - 14. Chapter 14

DEVYN

Pies, cakes, biscuits, cookies… Devyn’s mouth was salivating at all the smells around them. Dylan was sliding their entry fee over to an elf, the neko’s nerves adding a tinge of unease to the air that made the sweets smell even sweeter.

Devyn set a hand on the neko’s shoulder, a comforting weight to his touch, and Dylan tensed slightly before relaxing.

“Sorry, I’m nervous about this,” he muttered through his mask.

“Don’t be. We got this. And if not, well, we tried, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, Father does this every year and he never wins,” the neko shrugged.

“Well, it’s not like making a pie is easy,” Devyn said.

“Excuse me, did you bring the recipes?” the elf on the other side of the table asked suddenly.

The wolf’s gut dropped, a quiet whimper escaping him. He knew he had forgotten something. Every entry needed to have a recipe attached, though Devyn really had no idea why. It would just mean more work, if he had remembered to do it.

“Yeah, I have all three right here,” Dylan said beside him, sliding three sheets of paper over.

Devyn breathed a sigh of relief, Dylan chuckling quietly.

“Come on Dev, we’ve been friends for years. I got your back,” the neko said, scratching behind Devyn’s ear.

“Thanks,” Devyn smiled.

“Dylan? Devyn?”

The two turned guiltily, Lysander looking between them with a small frown on his face.

“What are you doing over here?” the elf asked.

“Um…”

Dylan stared at his etul, Devyn smelling the fear coming off the neko in waves. He gripped his friend’s shoulder, gently reassuring Dylan that he wasn’t alone.

“I’m entering the contest,” the wolf mentioned.

“Really? I would have thought Margaret would keep you from competing. I know Jordan wouldn’t like the extra competition,” Lysander grimaced.

“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt,” Devyn shrugged.

“In a strictly medical sense, that is not true at all. Dylan, are you here for support?”

The neko shook his head silently, staring down at his feet.

“Ah. Well, good luck. I hate to speak ill of your father, but I’m glad that one of our family will be in the winners this year,” Lysander chuckled. “If you two are done here, you should get going before someone sees you. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Jordan. Or Margaret.”

“Thanks Etul,” Dylan smiled. “Is everything done?”

The elf behind the table nodded, their pies sitting on another table nearby.

“Judging is in thirty minutes, and the results will be announced at one in the afternoon.”

“Wait, do we have to be there for the results?” Dylan frowned.

“It is recommended,” the elf shrugged.

“Well, there is a pie eating contest starting around noon, if you want to join that,” Devyn said, glancing at the neko.

“Yeah, if I put myself in a sugar coma, I won’t have to go to judging, right?” Dylan chuckled. “I did hear the Dueling Elves were playing somewhere around here.”

“I thought you didn’t like elven music,” Devyn frowned as they walked away from the registration table.

“It’s music,” the neko shrugged. “What I don’t like is Etul’s music. Who even listens to the Howlers anymore?”

“Dad loves them,” Devyn offered, walking out toward the football pitch.

Tables were set up all over the football pitch, people selling laerisa and pies, other people working on paintings or carving as they talked with patrons and passerby alike. This was the wolf’s first time roaming the fair on his own, and he was starting to remember why he didn’t like coming. Smells were everywhere, starting to overwhelm his nose, and his ears were throbbing at the volume of the crowds. The fair was supposed to be open to all students and their families, yet invariably extra people found their way in, either invited or not.

Beside him, Dylan wasn’t faring much better, the neko’s ears constantly half cocked under his hood as he tried to muffle the sounds around him. But he seemed to take it in stride, motioning toward a pair of elves who were fiddling together.

“See? Told you they were here.”

Devyn grunted as they made their way toward the Dueling Elves. The fiddlers sounded like so much noise over the crowded field, a good sound on its own, but when added to the steady hum already plaguing his ears, Devyn wasn’t sure he could handle much more.

“Hey, if you need to go wolf out for a bit, I’ll cover for you,” Dylan said suddenly.

Devyn looked at the neko, gratitude pouring from him. But as much as he ached for his true form, the wolf couldn’t do that. He had to prove to his mother that he could… be miserable? Be stuck in one form? Why was he fighting this battle? What would it even prove?

“I’ll be back in an hour,” the wolf murmured, turning toward the bathrooms.

“Whoa, hold on,” Dylan chuckled, following his friend. “Throw your clothes out at me and I’ll hold onto them, okay?”

Devyn nodded as they stepped inside, the wolf pushing into a stall before stripping. He tossed the clothes over the stall door, followed by his cane under the door. Shifting in a moment of fluid burning, the wolf let out a happy sigh as he let his fur take over. Devyn stretched his legs, shaking out his body before opening the door.

Dylan was busy folding his clothes into a bag, and the wolf pushed his head against the neko’s hand, rubbing against his friend in thanks. The neko slung the bag over his shoulder, sparing a moment to scratch Devyn’s head.

“Okay, you ready to face the world again? We have a couple hours before we need to get you dressed again.”

The wolf let out a low huff, waiting for Dylan to open the bathroom door. Now he could properly enjoy the festival.

JASON

The neko pulled his eyes away from the turquoise bangle. He certainly didn’t have the money for hand crafted jewellery. Some day, but not today.

Stepping away from the table, Jason smiled apologetically at the man sitting on the other side of the carved wood. It was still pretty to look at. Maybe he’d see if he could get it next year. Assuming this festival was a yearly event, though the neko didn’t see why an autumnal fair wouldn’t be annual.

All around him, he could see elves and humans wandering, enjoying the late morning with their families. When Margaret had talked about a baking competition, Jason hadn’t realized it came with an entire fair attached.

He was enjoying walking around with Brienne. She kept up a near constant conversation that he had a hard time responding to, pointing out various teachers and other students as they passed by. Occasionally Brienne would stop and introduce Jason to a friend, or pause to look at one of the craft tables that had been set up. Jason may have missed nearly three days of school, but he was making up for his social absence today, with Brienne’s help.

Fingers wrapped into his own, Brienne smiling almost nervously as she held his hand again. Jason wasn’t sure why his nerves were bubbling up again; they had been holding hands for most of the morning, but each time felt special, if a little scary.

Fiddles filled the air, a pair of elves staring intensely at each other as they played, and Jason paused to watch them as he and Brienne passed.

“They’re good, aren’t they?” Brienne grinned, her eyes glued to the man on the right.

Jason nodded, watching the two sway and dance as their arms worked at their bows. The song wasn’t one he knew, but it was fast and quick, getting his blood racing as he listened. The elves’ feet were tapping and leaping almost frantically in place, and the neko wondered how they managed to keep a beat with their feet while playing smoothly, their bodies bouncing the whole time. There was no way he could ever dance like that himself. To play an instrument while doing it… the whole idea was madness.

“They’re one of the few older duos I like, if only because their music has changed to reflect the years passing,” Brienne said. “I think they’re seventy, maybe eighty by now?”

Jason shrugged, not sure himself. He had never heard of the two before, but they were amazing. The neko resolved to find out more about them as soon as he got home.

A wet nose suddenly pushed between him and Brienne, the neko gasping as he pulled away from the girl. He looked down at the red wolf between them, letting out a quiet sigh before reaching to scratch Devyn’s ear.

“Hey Devyn, you wolfing it today?” Brienne smirked, scratching the other ear.

“Every day,” Dylan said, stepping up beside the wolf. “Hey Brienne.”

“Hey Dylan,” Brienne smiled nervously.

Jason tapped the other neko lightly, his hands moving with a measure of relief.

‘You should talk to Brienne. I think your idea is going to work. Do you know if Doctor Marin is here?’

“Marin? He’s over by the set up for the pie eating contest. Why do you want to talk to him?” Dylan frowned.

‘Personal reasons,’ Jason signed.

“I mean, he was just adopted by werewolves. I’m sure he has some questions,” Brienne said. “Besides, I think we should talk.”

Devyn nudged Jason’s hip, a low growl escaping the wolf at Marin’s name. Jason scratched his ear reassuringly, motioning for him to stay with his friends. The wolf huffed, but lay down beside Dylan and Brienne as Jason left to give them space.

The neko walked through the festival, finding the werewolf quickly. Marin was working with a young boy on a table, nearly two dozen pies waiting nearby.

“Come on Blake, don’t poke around. You’ll get a pie later.”

The werewolf’s nose twitched as he looked up, a smile on his face at the sight of Jason.

“Ah, hello there. Jason Farin, right? I was expecting you a few days ago. Your mom mentioned you might have some questions for me about wolves.”

Jason nodded slowly, not too surprised the werewolf knew his name. He was one of two nekos in the school, it didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t Dylan.

“I’m a little busy right now, but if you want to talk while we work, I can send Blake here to get some lunch.”

Jason nodded, grabbing a floating pie out of the air. Blake scowled at him, the neko raising an eyebrow as he set the pie aside.

“Blake, take a break,” Marin said, setting a handful of coppers on the table. “Go find Mr. Damian and ask him for three sandwiches.”

“Okay,” Blake grumbled, grabbing the coins before running off into the festival.

“Okay, now we can talk freely. So, what’s on your mind Jason? And please feel free to sign.”

Jason nodded again, thinking. He had a lot of questions, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Marin didn’t seem to mind the silence, busy setting out napkins and bottles of water over a long table.

‘Devyn isn’t really a werewolf, is he?’ Jason finally asked.

“Devyn is a werewolf,” Marin sighed quietly. “He’s a tough case. No one really knows why he was born the way he was, but we think it was Margaret forcing herself to shift when she was pregnant. It’s not common for mothers to do that. But Devyn is still a werewolf, even if he sees himself as a true wolf.”

‘Does that affect him being able to find a mate?’

Marin shrugged.

“Again, we really don’t know. The only other wolf like him in recent history went full feral and… well, it’s not a pleasant story. But we’re trying with Devyn. Honestly, the mating process doesn’t happen in true wolves; it is a process designed by the disease to propagate itself, bringing people together who are most likely to support the specific strain of lycanthropy in the individual. If Devyn can find a mate, a lot of people will take it as a good sign.”

‘So, he is still himself in either form, right?’

“Oh yes. There are many werewolves who are more in tune with their wolves. Devyn just happens to take that to the extreme. But he is still Devyn in either form, just as Margaret is still Margaret in her wolf form.”

‘And fated mates. There’s nothing there that means they would like each other?’

“Not instinctively, no. The disease affects their mind as much as their body, sometimes creating an alternate ‘voice’ in their head, which many refer to as their wolf. When meeting their mate, the wolf is generally very possessive, wanting to claim the person. But this is not the case for many. In Devyn’s case, I do not believe he ever heard the voice. It does seem to be less prevalent in born lycanthropes. But there is nothing, aside from the disease itself, that implies a werewolf would do any better emotionally with their mate than with anyone else.”

‘Yet kingdom laws prevent anyone from interfering with a mating,’ Jason signed uncertainly.

Marin sighed heavily, pulling up a chair.

“Now you are getting into somewhat dangerous territory. There are many people who view a mating bond as something sacred, something that can’t be broken. The fact that a wolf who is denied their mate tends to suffer emotionally would seem to support this. That is what led to the Mate Laws being passed nearly a century ago. But for those who understand how the disease works, we know that the mating call is just the lycanthropy’s way of growing and spreading. By passing the laws and enforcing them, we are allowing for people to become willing hosts to a sickness. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a werewolf, and running under the moon. But from the outside looking in, the way the kingdom acts in regards to what is basically a pandemic is nothing short of horrifying. We aren’t trying to stop it, rather, we are actively helping the disease spread. And there are those who would see it end. Like the Silver Hand.”

Jason shook his head in disbelief as Blake came running back toward them. The boy handed Marin the sandwiches, the werewolf sliding one to Jason with a smile.

“Eat up.”

The neko looked at the sandwich, hands taking it uncertainly.

‘Thank you,’ he signed.

“Of course. If you have any more questions, feel free to stop by the WolfRoom. I’m usually there throughout the school day.”

‘I’ll do that,’ Jason nodded. ‘There are things that probably should wait until Blake isn’t around.’

“I appreciate that,” Marin smiled. “If you’ll excuse us, Blake and I should get this contest ready.”

Jason nodded again, stepping away with a troubled frown. He felt like that had just brought up more questions than answers, but any other questions would have to wait until he could get to school.

DEVYN

The wolf licked the pie crust off his muzzle as he raised his head, his stomach feeling stuffed in the best way. That was more satisfying than he had expected.

He could feel his mother’s stare, but Devyn tried not to let her get to him. Certainly she would have something to say about him being a wolf, running around the festival in his fur, but he didn’t want to hear it. There had been at least two other wolves competing with him, and from the sounds of pie tins shaking, he doubted they had beaten him.

“Time!”

He licked one last crumb off the table, spitting at a bit of dirt that came with it. Cherry filling covered his mouth, Devyn swallowing greedily as the tart sweetness of the remnants ran down his throat.

“All wolves take a step away from the tins so they can be collected.”

Huffing quietly, he backed up awkwardly, closing his eyes as his tin was collected. It made it easier to keep calm that way, if he didn’t see his food being taken away. Not that there was any food to be taken away. The pie had been gone in seconds.

“Congratulations to Devyn Farin on finishing in an astonishing twenty two seconds!” the announcer called, Devyn’s chest puffing out in pride.

He glanced at the other two wolves, grey and white bodies fluffed out as they walked away. The wolf didn’t expect them to congratulate him, not in wolf form. The competition had been fun, and he was happily full. Maybe there was a benefit to these festivals.

A medal was set around his neck, blue ribbon holding a piece of plastic gold. He licked the hand in thanks, the man who gave him the prize letting out a small chuckle as he touched the wolf’s head gently.

Jason approached with a smile, his hand reaching out to rub Devyn as Margaret and Richard shadowed the neko.

“Good job Devyn,” Margaret said, the words startling the wolf.

He hadn’t expected to hear that from his mother. Some gripe about how he had filling covering his snout or how he shouldn’t have entered in the first place, sure, but to be congratulated? He had to take a quick breath to make sure this was his mother talking.

“Yeah, good job Devyn. I think that was a new record for the wolves,” Richard added, scratching behind the wolf’s ear.

Devyn’s eyes closed as he sat, a leg raising as he tried to help his father scratch, and he heard a sigh from his mother. That was more like her…

“We need to head to judging or we’ll be late,” Margaret said, a sharpness in her voice, and Devyn let out his own sigh.

The praise had been nice while it lasted. But she was right, they needed to hurry. He needed to hurry. Devyn glanced at Jason, the neko shrugging back at him before tapping Margaret’s shoulder. A moment of quick signing was met with a nod.

“Okay, but be quick. We’ll wait for you over by the goal,” Margaret said.

Whistling, the neko took off, jogging away as Devyn chased after him. The two hurried toward the bathrooms, Dylan and Brienne meeting them there.

“You three are like Imperial guards or something,” the girl smirked. “Why don’t you just tell your parents? I bet they’ll just get angry if you keep your pies hidden.”

Jason shrugged as Devyn and Dylan headed inside. Devyn pushed into a stall, letting it close heavily behind him as his body shifted. He grabbed his bag, taking a minute to dress before grabbing his cane. They needed to be fast if they wanted to make it to judging, and speed in this form was not his strong point. Not that the judging stand was too far, just on the far side of the track. Barely two hundred meters.

Hobbling out of the bathroom, he and Dylan got moving, Jason walking on the other side of the wolf to make sure he didn’t trip. They weaved through the crowd swiftly, reaching the goal near the stand as an elf began announcing the results of the meat pie contest.

“...second place with a prize of one gold goes to Mira with her beef and potato laerisa,” the elf said, waiting for the woman to approach the stand. “And finally, first place, with a prize of two gold, goes to Dylan Ethis and his traditional neko pheasant pie.”

The field erupted into applause as Jason nudged Dylan, the calico stumbling forward uncertainly. As the neko stepped onto the stand, another neko pulled back Dylan’s hood, a gold medal in his hand, ready to place on the victor’s neck.

Near instantly, the other neko recoiled, her face filled with revulsion. Dylan’s ears folded flat against his head, the calico markings trying to blend into the rest of his hair.

Devyn hurried toward the stand, but was cut off by Damian, the older neko reaching for his son reassuringly.

“Gods… he touched me!”

A growl escaped the wolf, the judge staring at Devyn with horror. He could feel the rage broiling within him, the urge to shift and attack growing stronger each second.

“Devyn! Sit!” Richard said firmly, and the wolf dropped, crouching as he glared at his father.

It had been ages since he’d done that. And Devyn knew why it came out now, but he still didn’t like it. That neko hurt his friend, and she needed to pay for it. She couldn’t just get away with that.

The white furred neko was escorted off the stage by a pair of elves, and a man stepped up, a troubled look on his face.

“We would like to award Dylan Ethis with his medal and gold, and assure him and his family that Naia will no longer be asked to judge for us,” he said quickly, motioning toward the calicos.

Devyn whimpered, looking between his father and his friend as Damian set the medal around his son’s neck.

“Richard, I told you not to do that!” Margaret hissed. “Devyn, get up.”

“Well excuse me, but what was I supposed to do? The last thing we need is him to rip someone’s throat out,” Richard snapped back.

Devyn let out a quiet groan, limping toward Dylan as soon as he hoisted himself up.

“How can I help you?” the wolf asked quietly, Damian already hugging his son tightly.

Dylan shrugged helplessly, his breath shaky as they descended from the stage.

“I’m okay…”

“No you’re not,” Devyn denied. “Every wolf around here can smell you. Want me to go dig up her roses? Piss on her door mat?”

The neko let out a tiny laugh, shaking his head.

“No. She had a point.”

“No she did not,” Damian denied firmly. “Every neko is inoculated against the plague. It is no excuse to be a dick.”

“Then how did Jason get it?” Dylan demanded. “How did I get him sick?”

“He must have missed his vaccine,” the older calico shrugged.

Brienne approached the trio, her arms wrapping around Dylan tightly.

“Congratulations on winning,” the girl beamed at the neko. “Don’t worry, I know where that neko works out. I could have her tires slashed in an instant.”

“No! Enough with the violence!” Damian scowled between them.

“That isn’t violent. It’s a natural consequence, as my parents like to say. You hurt my friends, I hurt you back,” Brienne shrugged. “Okay fine, it’s violent. But Dylan is worth it.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Lysander said, joining the group with Jordan in tow. “Devyn, they just called you up. It’s a little hard to hear back here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, second place. Good job,” Jordan added. “Wish it was me, but hey, you beat your mother. I guess that’s good enough for me.”

“Go get your prize,” Dylan smiled at the wolf. “I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, he’s got me here with him,” Brienne smirked.

Devyn turned, looking back at the neko uncertainly, before heading onto the stage. He could see his father’s huge grin in the crowd. It made him feel a little better, knowing people were happy for him. But as the silver medal was set over his neck, the wolf couldn’t help the feeling of unease washing over him at the sight of his mother. She looked more pissed than he had ever seen her before.