TORIN YOUTH – CHAPTER 04: THE SCARLET VIXEN

Atreus lies unconscious in a dark, cramped space. He groans weakly as he awakens. His body shifts, still wearing armor but soaked in the suspicious, thick liquid pooling around him.

Wherever he is, it’s warm. And it’s moving.

He can feel himself being carried far and fast, rising and falling with the strides of whatever holds him captive.

Then there’s the breathing—it’s all around him—heavy.

The rhythmic thumping of a gigantic heart pumping blood echoes from far below and deep within.

There’s no mistaking it—he’s inside of a giant.

He starts to feel out his surroundings. First, the soft and wet, yet firm surface that squishes beneath him. Then, the ridged and unyielding fleshy ceiling just above him.

His eyes creep open. He barely has enough light to see anything at all, even with his eyes adjusted to the dark.

“I’m…”

“…in a mouth.”

He recognizes this environment, having been subjected to it many times before by his friend Helia. Things are different now, however—there have been no friendly words spoken assuring him of his safety, despite his protests. There’s no familiar and comforting voice playfully teasing him.

Atreus knows that he’s trapped in the mouth of a stranger.

“But how?” he wonders, thinking back on what took place before he blacked out.

He recalls a battle.

“That’s right… we were fighting…”

The silhouette of a gigantic, fox-eared woman with three tails flashes in his mind.

“…a predator…”

A memory of launching a lightning bolt from his bow comes back to him, and with it, the feeling that he had reached the defining moment of his life.

“It was the Scarlet Vixen!”

A vision of the hybrid fox giantess descending upon him with her mouth open and prepared to entrap him fills his mind.

“She took our attacks head-on…”

“…and then everything went black.”

“It happened so fast.”

The boy suddenly feels a fire burning within him. As long as he has breath, he must continue to fight.

While he tries to use both his hands and feet to push against the roof of the giantess’s mouth in hopes that he will be able to free himself, a question suddenly comes to his mind.

“Wait… Why hasn’t she swallowed me?”

He shifts his head and looks toward his feet, barely having the space to do so while being pressed firmly by the tongue to the roof of the mouth. Back there, beyond his feet, is pitch blackness leading to a frightful abyss.

As tempted as he is to breathe a sigh of relief that it hasn’t happened yet, he can’t assume it won’t happen at all.

“None of this makes any sense.”

With Atreus’s movements in her mouth, the giantess becomes aware that he is conscious. Her eyes glance downward as she feels him pushing and kicking. She continues her journey in spite of it, wanting to put more distance behind her before stopping.

Despite being over 30 meters—or 99 feet—in height, the Vixen is fast. She moves swiftly on all fours across the glittering hills of Crystal Island. The change in scenery tells her that she has traveled far now.

In the far western region of the island, the forests are smaller and scattered. A different type of forest appears—sparkling crystal formations of various sizes are scattered throughout, decorating the hills with a perpetual prismatic glow.

The Vixen takes in the sight of the great crystal monoliths as she runs past them. Crystals of this size are more common here than on the eastern side of the island, yet they carry the same astonishing properties. When charged with the energy of the sun, they shine as natural lamps during the night.

Her pointed fox ears twitch happily as the crystals resonate and chime in the wind across the landscape, giving the island its own music.

A sight up ahead catches her eye. In the near distance, she sees a village with tiny inhabitants.

She slows her pace.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if we spoke before we reached the village,” she says with the comparatively tiny boy still in her mouth.

The Vixen stops and kneels, sitting upright with her legs folded beneath her. Her three tails sway excitedly behind her in anticipation of this long-awaited moment.

She brings her right hand up to her puckered lips and carefully lets him slip into her palm.

Atreus squints, overwhelmed by the bright daylight. The air feels cold against his body, soaked to the bone in the giantess’s saliva. If not for the gigantic fingers wrapping around him, he would start to shiver.

The smile on the Vixen’s face is blurred to him.

“I can’t believe it,” she says in a soft, loving tone, still keeping her hand closed around his body, not giving him much room to move. “After twelve long years, I get to see your face again.”

The boy’s face is filled with confusion as he continues adjusting to the light.

“What are you talking about?” he asks in bewilderment. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

Tears well in the Vixen’s eyes, though Atreus can’t see them yet.

She caresses him gently with her thumb and sighs happily, eliciting a disturbed expression from the hazel-eyed boy.

“You’ve grown so much. You’re a man now,” she says in a voice full of pride, yet tinged with sadness.

With her other hand, she runs her fingers beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears.

Atreus pulls one arm free and pushes gently against the Vixen’s thumb to stop her from caressing him.

“Look… Scarlet Vixen… I really need to know what’s going on here,” he insists. “What do you want with me?”

The hybrid giantess bites her lip, struggling to work up the courage to say what’s on her mind. Uncertainty flickers in her heterochromic eyes.

“Atreus…” she says quietly.

Upon hearing his name uttered by the Vixen, the young man’s eyebrows furrow.

“Tell me—how do you know my name?” he demands, gazing upon her with suspicion. “Did my mother tell you? Where is she? Where is my mother?”

The Vixen’s bright red pointed ears lower as she places an open hand over her chest. Her voice trembles with apprehension as she speaks, hoping she’ll be believed.

“My son… she’s right here.”

The words stagger Atreus. His head begins to spin.

Resting his head in his hand for a moment to steady himself, he mutters weakly, unable to gather his thoughts.

“This… no… it can’t…”

He goes silent in the giantess’s hand. She looks upon him, begging with her expression to be believed.

When at last Atreus feels able to lift his eyes again, he meets the giantess’s gaze, searching for truth—or deception.

She also looks deeply into his eyes, but the boy’s thoughts are agonizingly impossible for the giantess to guess.

Finally, he demands, “Put me down.”

It’s not what the fox giantess wanted to hear, but she reluctantly lowers her hand.

“…Okay…” she hesitantly agrees. “Just promise me you won’t run away, please.”

Her hands gently set Atreus down on the grass.

The boy straightens his armor and the clothing underneath. He then takes a deep breath and exhales, turning his back to the giant pair of heterochromic eyes gazing down at him.

“Not a chance,” he says, bolting away from her.

The Vixen cries out, lunging forward to catch him.

“NO! DON’T!”

She falls forward, flat on her belly, and uses her arms to fence the tiny human in, nearly causing the boy to fall over as the ground trembles from the impact of her body.

Atreus stumbles but stays on his feet, only to be blown over by the wind rushing from underneath the giantess as she falls.

He lifts his head, watching as her colossal arms come down and surround him.

The boy grunts angrily and pushes himself off the ground.

He turns and stands face-to-face with her, his displeasure clearly visible to her oversized eyes as the giantess’s chin rests on the ground.

“How dare you toy with me this way?” Atreus asks with controlled fury in his voice.

The Vixen pleads with him tearfully, “I’m not lying. I am Cadmeia—your mother. Please, believe me.”

“HOW?” Atreus demands. “My mother was human!”

“Come with me to the village,” she replies. “There are witnesses there. I promise you—I’ll explain everything if you’ll just come with me.”

Atreus turns slightly away, still distrustful of her, and takes a deep breath to calm himself. Though it’s not easy for him to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside, there’s something else within that won’t allow him to shut his heart.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Start explaining on the way.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” the giantess says with a relieved and hopeful smile.

Slowly, she rises and kneels before presenting a hand for him to climb onto.

Atreus climbs onto her hand and settles in.

Using her three tails for balance, the Vixen carefully stands and cradles Atreus with both hands as she walks toward the village.

As she walks, she explains.

“As a Legionnaire Specialis, I was twenty-five years old when I was assigned by Legate Phoebus Taiyo to gather intelligence on the Scarlet Vixen. In the year that followed, I would learn a lot more than I expected.

“While I was sent to learn about a monster, what I discovered was a mother—like myself. And her existence was a response to the war—a war that our Queen Ourana started in the land beyond the sea.

“I know this…

“…because the Vixen told me herself instead of killing me…

“…after she caught my team spying on her.

“Of course, we should have known that we wouldn’t escape her sight.

“Her true name was Utalle. She was the embodiment of a great nature spirit, whose eyes were the sun and the moon, summoned by the Laikos who live in these hills. Utalle came at a time when the Laikos feared that both sides of Ourana’s war would consume them. She fought to protect them and their land, as any loving mother would do.

“She told me the truth about the origins of this war. Legate Taiyo and other Torinians knew about Ourana’s ‘original sin’ and her warmongering, which led to her being driven to this island along with her flock. But ever since she conquered us Torinians and forced us to fight on her behalf, no one has dared to question why we continue to lay down our lives in her war.

“After returning to Torin, I tried to convince Legate Taiyo and General Aello that the Scarlet Vixen wasn’t our enemy and that we should speak to her. They wouldn’t listen.

“Taiyo removed me from the assignment and forbade me from going anywhere near the Vixen again.

“Shortly after, they began a military campaign to displace the sphinxes and elves, driving them out of the Valley of Atomata and into Laiko territory.

“As I anticipated, the Scarlet Vixen appeared at the Battle of Atomata to disrupt their plans. She wasn’t protecting only the Laikos—she was ensuring that we could all have a place to call home on this island. I was filled with admiration for her and frustration with my own stubborn people.

“So much so that I did something foolish.

“I left behind my beloved son and husband to take a chance at stopping the battle.

“I stood in the line of fire…

“…thinking that I could win by showing compassion.

“I was wrong.

“Dead wrong.

“The next time I opened my eyes… everything was different.

“I heard Utalle’s voice in my head, and I could see her spirit in my mind. She told me that she couldn’t save my human body, but she could save my life by transferring it into the body of the Vixen.

“I was alive.

“But I lost everything. My body. My life.

“My boy.

“I cried a sea of tears.

“Utalle was there to help me while I adjusted to this giant form early on. She even took control when I was overwhelmed or in danger.

“However, as the years passed, Utalle spoke less until she finally went silent. Then I was left alone in this body…

“…left alone to sort out where the Scarlet Vixen ends and Cadmeia begins.

“With each passing day, it gets harder to tell. The instincts and the appetites of this body—the cravings that once mortified me—are starting to feel like my own...

“And that terrifies me.”

Cadmeia ends her story as they arrive at a village nestled in the foothills of the Rainbow Hills. There are many tents, large and small, where the hybrid canine-human people known as the Laikos live.

Atreus sits in the giantess’s hand, feeling somber after listening to her story.

“I want to believe you. I truly do,” he tells her.

“I understand,” Cadmeia says softly. “It’s a lot to ask.”

A Laiko villager approaches them. He appears middle-aged, though his hair is entirely silver, blending with the black-and-white fur of his wolf-like, pointed ears. His grey eyes stand out against his light-brown skin.

“Welcome to the village of Arimas Piinu, son of the Will of Utalle,” the man says, gently wagging his wolf-like tail. “I am Sophean. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you.”

Atreus is lowered carefully to the ground by his mother so that he can speak with the man face-to-face.

“…Thank you?” Atreus replies hesitantly, deeply confused by the greeting. “If you don’t mind me correcting you, my name is Atreus.”

Sophean chortles and continues as though he hasn’t heard him.

“Come, son of the Will. Enjoy our hospitality.”

The boy shrugs, giving up. He follows after the man, sensing that he isn’t going to get anywhere by insisting on his name.

The man leads him toward a large communal tent covered in the hide of a giant creature. Two other Laiko villagers about Atreus’s age, dressed in traditional clothing made from animal skins, approach him from behind, gently pushing him forward.

“Joyous greeting,” the girl with brown floppy ears says, wagging her fluffy tail in eagerness to meet him. “I’m Tiff.”

“And I’m Althean,” the boy with grey fur on his pointed ears says, equally excited.

Atreus nods at them as they softly push him forward.

Now that his mind has settled somewhat after the shock, he suddenly remembers his teammates, left behind in the wilderness. Fear grips him as he remembers General Aello’s grim warning about the importance of teamwork.

“Wait—my friends! They need me,” he cries out. “They’ll never make it home with only the three of them.”

Cadmeia speaks gently, assuring him that she has already accounted for that.

“Don’t worry, my son. A friend of mine will look after your companions—the same friend who told me when I would be fated to find you again.”

The cryptic remark elicits a raised eyebrow from Atreus before he disappears into the tent.

“This is all too much,” he says in exhaustion, laying a hand on his head.

Inside the tent are about thirty other Laikos going about their daily routines—some young, some ancient with eyes that have seen many years pass. Some with pointed ears and some with floppy ears. And many without any clothing on.

Atreus jerks his head away and covers his eyes.

“Meet my family, son of the Will,” Sophean says.

Almost immediately, Tiff and Althean begin stripping Atreus of his armor, gear, and clothing.

“HEY—HEY—HEY! What is this?” the Torinian boy protests.

“Feel free to be as nature intended while you are here,” Sophean encourages him. “We will wash your clothes while you rest.”

Atreus clings to his clothing, blushing profusely as Tiff peeks at him curiously.

“No, I’m fine, really. I’d rather keep them on,” he insists.

Sophean waves his family away and relents, saying, “As you wish, son of the Will.”

Althean and Tiff return his belongings, both looking quite amused by his shame at being without them.

As his guide continues deeper into the tent, Atreus follows, keeping his eyes to himself as he moves about.

“So… why do you call that giantess ‘the Will’?” he asks.

“Are you referring to your mother?” Sophean asks while gesturing for Atreus to sit beside him on a large circular rug. “It is because she lives by the will of Utalle.”

Sophean studies the young Torinian’s troubled face.

“I can see you are in great pain, son of… Cadmeia,” he says quietly. “What she told you is true. Your mother did not abandon you. She answered a higher calling. She now lives in the vessel that Utalle came down to her people in.”

Atreus listens with a tear escaping one eye, gently shaking his head.

“All my life, I’ve had to pay for the decision that she made all on her own. Her explanation doesn’t change a thing.”

Sophean sighs and assures him, “She did not mean to hurt you.”

“Doesn’t change how it feels,” Atreus replies bluntly.

“Time will, son of Cadmeia,” Sophean promises with comforting warmth in his voice. “For now, rest.”

Atreus pauses to contemplate, then yields to their care.

Meanwhile, Cadmeia waits outside the large communal tent, idly swaying her three vulpine tails.

In the near distance behind her, Laiko people tend their trained torogriffs in the fields. The massive bull-and-eagle hybrids, standing nearly 18 meters—or 60 ft—in height, have a spiritual bond with the Laikos. She reflects on the Laiko oral tradition, which holds that it was the ancient shaman Riphean Laiko who sacrificed his physical form to tame the spirits of the great beasts generations ago. The mighty torogriffs have helped to protect the village from dangers in the past, but with the arrival of Ourana’s war on the island, the Laikos needed a new guardian—Utalle herself in the form of the Vixen.

Althean steps out of the tent and bows to the scarlet-haired giantess.

“Will of Utalle, Sophean sent me to tell you that Atreus needs to rest for a while,” he tells her.

Cadmeia’s disappointment is obvious, but she smiles at the young Laiko man.

“I understand,” she says. “I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for him.”

Looking back at the torogriff riders, Cadmeia wonders how Althean’s training is coming along.

“Have you been improving your connection with the torogriffs, Althean?” she asks him.

The boy looks away, his ears lowering in shame. He drags a foot in the sand while considering how to respond.

Cadmeia knows immediately what the answer is.

“What have you been doing with the torogriffs, if not practicing your riding?” she asks him.

Althean gulps, working up the courage to be honest.

“I know that the Torinians can use the crystals to cast elemental magic and…” he says, hesitating to continue.

“And? What?” Cadmeia asks, leaning closer to interrogate the boy.

“I’ve been training with the crystals in the field to see if I could learn to do it too,” Althean confesses.

The giantess sighs in disappointment.

“I can look past you skipping your riding training, but not you practicing dangerous magic near the torogriffs,” she tells him. “That’s reckless, Althean. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to tell your parents about this.”

Althean hangs his head and groans, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Cadmeia slowly stands and leaves to tend to her other duties as guardian of the village. As she goes, two Laiko men join her to discuss important issues.

Althean remains outside the tent a little longer. Reaching into a pouch carried at his waist, he pulls out a caeli crystal shard, rolling the sparkling stone slowly in his fingers. There’s something different about this shard—it didn’t come from anywhere around the village. It came from Atreus’s gear. He can see that lightning magic lingers in the stone, likely charged from the hazel-eyed Torinian’s use of it.

The Laiko boy with grey, furry wolf-like ears sneaks off, grinning with glee at his find.

Later that day, as the sun hangs low over the sparkling, crystal-strewn hills, Atreus emerges from the tent wearing traditional Laiko clothing while his own garments are being cleaned by Sophean’s relatives.

He takes in the sights as villagers go about their daily lives. Similar to the Torinians, the villagers have made lamps out of caeli crystals, hanging them on tall wooden poles. They begin to shine with stored sunlight, illuminating the village.

Atreus notices a group of Laikos bringing wood to start a fire. The wood looks as if it has been separated from the trees for some time, indicating that it’s likely all fallen wood. Atreus assumes that—like the Torinians—the Laikos get the wood that they need from giant fallen branches.

He then turns his attention to others as they play a sport involving a throwing disk they catch with their teeth. Atreus observes the game, trying to understand the rules.

There are five players on the field for each team. A Laiko man throws the disk. A woman catches it in her teeth and runs down the field, evading the opposing players and using her hands to hold them off. She then uses a hand to throw the disk at a wooden loop with a net attached, but it doesn’t get far before a member of the other team snatches the disk out of the air with his teeth and runs toward his goal at the opposite end of the field. It appears that if the woman had made her throw, she would have scored a point.

While Atreus enjoys the game, Sophean approaches and draws his attention to the beauty of the land at sunset.

“Not many ‘bird people’ have enjoyed this view,” Sophean says. “You all could—if you learned to live in harmony with the land instead of dominating it.”

Nearby, tattooed Laiko men dance around a large fire.

“What’s going on?” Atreus asks.

“They bear the Markings of Devotion,” Sophean explains. “They offer themselves to the Great Protectoress in gratitude.”

Atreus hesitates. “Offer? As in… food?”

“Yes,” Sophean replies. “It is a great honor for those bearing the markings to give their lives for her.”

“That’s some devotion,” Atreus says quietly.

“Your people don’t hate predators?” he asks.

“Fear them? Yes. Hate them? Never,” Sophean answers. “Every creature has its role on nature’s great tree, and all are sacred. Even the great predators.”

He looks toward Cadmeia, kneeling on a distant hill overlooking the village.

“Though many years have passed, she still struggles to make peace with her place.”

“What’s up there?”

“It’s the resting place of her former vessel.”

Sophean looks to Atreus again.

“She could use your presence right now.”

“No. I can’t… I’m sorry.”

Atreus hangs his head and walks away from Sophean to wander the village alone.

Meanwhile, Cadmeia waits at a stone overgrown with grass and flowers. Her legionnaire’s belt lies in front of the stone, weathered by years of exposure to the elements.

“I must fix this,” she whispers.

A small voice calls out to her from a distance.

“Great Will.”

The giantess turns. She sees Sophean bowing as he approaches.

“Is he coming here?” she asks.

“No. His mind is clouded,” Sophean says. “And his heart, heavy.”

Cadmeia looks in the direction Atreus went.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” she asks. “Please, tell me honestly what he said. I need to know.”

The Laiko man clasps his hands together in front of him, assuring the giantess in a warm voice, “He will tell you how he truly feels when the time is right.”

It’s not what Cadmeia wants to hear, but she yields to the man’s guidance.

“Will you tell him the plan to restore your humanity?” he asks.

Cadmeia breathes deeply, hesitating to steady herself before opening her mouth.

“Only what he needs to know,” she answers.

“Ah, so then you both have secrets,” Sophean chortles. “Like mother, like son.”

Cadmeia can’t help but brighten a little at the truth of it.

As they remain at the grave, quietly talking, a flash of light catches their attention, followed by the crack of thunder.

Sophean turns his gaze toward the sky, confirming that it’s clear.

“Lightning and thunder without a storm?” he wonders aloud in confusion.

A second flash of light startles the village, followed by another thunderclap. This time, Cadmeia sees where it came from.

“Over there—where Atreus went!”

Cadmeia picks up Sophean and makes her way to the other end of the village toward the surrounding trees.

A crowd of concerned onlookers is already gathered when she arrives. The villagers move aside to allow her through.

The lofty gaze of the giantess lands on Althean, who lies on the ground with apparent minor burns and signs of internal injuries, with Atreus standing over him.

The young Laiko man groans in pain, still clutching the caeli crystal carved in a style characteristic of the Torinians.

“What did you do to Althean, stranger?” a man growls at Atreus, showing his teeth.

Finding himself in the familiar position of being surrounded by distrustful and accusing glares, Atreus sighs. He’s starting to feel that he’ll never be accepted anywhere. Still, he calmly offers the concerned villagers the truth.

“I saved him,” the Torinian boy says.

“What happened, son?” Cadmeia asks him gently, towering high above everyone even as she kneels down.

“Maybe we should get him some help first,” Atreus suggests, prompting some of the surrounding villagers to come forward and carefully lift Althean off the ground.

The grey-eared boy raises his voice, forcing the words out despite the pain he feels.

“Wait—it’s my fault. Don’t blame him. I just wanted to see what I could do with this crystal.”

Althean raises his hand, presenting the evidence in it.

“It… exploded. I don’t know how else to describe it,” he explains.

“That’s enough, Althean. Save your strength,” a brown-eared man says as he and three others continue toward a tent in the village.

Remaining in the clearing before the treeline, many eyes turn to Atreus expectantly. He thinks back on the event and begins to recount it.

“I was walking away from the village… to be alone and clear my mind.

“As I went further, I noticed someone else out there. I glanced at him a few times out of curiosity… but I didn’t think much of it.

“But then, I heard him yelling—like he was in pain. That’s when I saw lightning erupt from his hand—violently.

“He fell over. I ran to check on him.

“The caeli crystal in his hand was surging with power, and I could tell he wanted to release it but couldn’t. So, I just… I grabbed his hand and tried to redirect the power through my body.”

As he explains, Atreus kneels and raises one hand, pointing it upward at the sky to demonstrate.

“It was my own magic still contained in that crystal, so I wasn’t harmed by it,” he adds.

Sophean, still seated in the giantess’s hand, remarks, “That must have been the second flash of lightning we witnessed.”

Atreus nods at the man while Cadmeia considers what she’s hearing.

“Son, how did you know that it was your power in there and that it wouldn’t hurt you too—or possibly even kill you?” the scarlet-haired Vixen asks.

“I didn’t know,” Atreus answers. “But I thought it was worth the risk to try and save Althean.”

Cadmeia becomes somber—the thought of losing her son after she had only just found him again settles heavily on her.

Atreus hesitantly turns away, facing the village.

“I need to speak to Althean,” he says.

He looks back at the Vixen, gazing into her eyes as a soft smile appears on his face.

“Please, don’t worry about me anymore, Mother.”

He walks away, heading back to the village while the giantess feels a growing warmth in her heart that she hasn’t experienced in many years.

Sophean pats the palm of her hand where he sits.

“He only needs time,” he says, encouraging her.

After reaching the tent where Althean is being looked after, Atreus finds the other boy lying on a cot with his father and mother both watching over him. He smells of ointments applied to his skin to treat the burns. The Laiko boy’s ears lower apologetically toward the Torinian.

“I’m sorry for stealing your crystal,” he says.

Atreus smiles and leans against a wooden beam beside the cot, folding his arms.

“At least we’re both alive to talk about it,” he replies jokingly. “But why did you do it?”

Althean looks quite ashamed to be admitting the truth, especially in front of his parents.

“Everyone treats me like I’m bad luck because everything I touch goes wrong,” he says. “I can’t cook without setting a tent on fire. I can’t carry logs without dropping one on something important. I gave up riding because I accidentally started a stampede. I couldn’t do anything right. But I thought maybe I could use magic—especially with crystals, like I heard the Will of Utalle say the Torinians do. I was desperate to prove I could do something well.”

Atreus sighs, understanding the feeling.

“I know what it’s like to be desperate to prove something. And considering that you are still here, learning and improving, I’d say you’re actually pretty lucky,” he tells Althean.

“I feel like there’s no hope for me,” Althean says, stroking his tail somberly.

Hearing words that have echoed in his own mind before, Atreus feels deep sympathy in the moment, even though he struggles to find the words to speak.

“Althean…” Atreus calls. “Please, don’t ever allow yourself to lose hope. I know it’s not easy—but try to see the ray of sunlight in every cloudy day, even if you have to be that ray of sunlight yourself.”

Althean nods.

“I will try,” he says. “I promise.”

With their eyes filling with tears, his parents come closer, wrapping their arms around him.

“We had no idea you felt that way, son,” his father says, sporting similar grey fur on his ears and tail and a full beard.

“Please forgive us,” his mother with long black hair adds.

Sore as he is, Althean enjoys the embrace of his parents.

Atreus silently moves toward the tent door and exits into the starry night, thinking it best to leave the other boy alone with his parents as they try to heal his wounded spirit.

He knows, however, that such long-untreated wounds cannot be healed quickly.

(NEXT CHAPTER)

Rough concept sketch of the team coming face-to-face with the Scarlet Vixen.