This story was inspired by the Native American tale about... well... two wolves that fight inside us. It is available at my DA, if one of you wants to check it out there. Any critiques are welcome, I want to be the best writer that I can be. And so, without further adue, The Two Wolves! About a league outside the river-port town of Gleem in the Freyhedge Empire, there sits a castle that is inhabited by a desert fox by the name of Lieutenant Ambrose Fennec. He is somewhat of a loner, and although he can be seen in the town every once in a long while and hosts the occasional feast, he spends much of his time sequestered away in his fortified abode. What he does in that time is a topic of much debate among the townsfolk. Some say that he spends his time creating monsters from prisoners, others swear that he builds mechanical terrors that would make even the most battle-hardened veterans quake in their boots. Despite this constant conjecture, his true activities have remained a mystery to all but a privileged few, everyone of whom have sworn strict secrecy.
One day in particular, he was working on a better way to grow grasshoppers, an assignment he was none too thrilled about, yet necessary for a peace treaty between the Empire and a neighboring kingdom. He had spent sleepless days locked in the lab buried deep beneath his castle, and was not having a very successful time.
"Oh, they can't let me do MY work, can they?" he asked himself out-loud, "No, they just HAVE to give me a job that's outside of my expertise. There are better qualified people at the University! And yet because the order came straight from the Emperor himself, I can't refuse!" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sometimes I hate my job." He was trying to get the bugs to grow faster, but he could not figure out how to do it. He mumbled incoherently as he went to refill his coffee mug. He picked up the pot and tried to pour some of the liquid energy into his cup, yet none came. It took a few moments for that to register, then he muttered, "Frazz." He stared into the empty pot with bloodshot eyes for a few seconds before remembering what to do. As he was getting out the grounds, he heard a feminine voice behind him.
"Having trouble?" He squeaked in surprise as as he whirled around, bringing the coffee pot to bear and brandishing it as a weapon. Before him sat a white-coated feral wolf with the deepest blue eyes Ambrose had ever seen.
"Ho-how did you get in here?" he asked, ears pinned back and eyes wide, "And who are you?"
"I am Xiaclon," the wolf responded calmly. "I am a manifestation of the good in you. Your truthfulness, your joy, your kindness, all that is upright and just in you is represented by me." Ambrose just stood there with arms by his sides, half asleep. Xiaclon brought her muzzle nose-to-nose with his and exhaled. The fox jolted as the breath hit him and was suddenly wide awake, He shook his head and looked at the coffee pot in his paw. He sighed and turned to finish putting the drink on.
"I suppose you will be staying for awhile then?" he asked.
"Perhaps, where I go is largely dependent on you. So the length of my stay will be your determination."
"I'm not sure I like the idea of having a predator who significantly larger than me roaming about."
"You won't see me most of the time."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"You have no cause for concern," the wolf assured him, "I do not eat fox."
"That's a relief." Ambrose finished preparing the next pot of liquid energy and turned back to the wolf, "I'm still not convinced you're who you say you are. For all I know, you work for the Baron," he spread his paws imploringly, "so how do i know your telling the truth?"
"We are several hundred feet under-ground, behind twelve sizable blast doors, and there is a castle with a full guard complement above us." Xiaclon responded with a blank look on her face. "How would I get in?"
"Humm, didn't think about that." Ambrose muttered as he stroked his chin, still suffering from sleep deprivation. The wolf looked past him.
"Do not give the fox a heart attack, Therik."
"Huh?" Ambrose turned once more and there stood a second wolf, this one with coal- black fur and dark red eyes.
"You suck the fun out of everything." the new canine intoned. Ambrose stared at Therik, slack-jawed. The dark furred wolf strode grinning over to Xiaclon and laid down. "I'm Therik, your fun side."
"Therik." the female admonished.
"Fine, fine. I'm the evil in you." Therik said, rolling his eyes. "Your greed, anger, resentment, ego, feeling of superiority; that's all represented by me." He chuckled. "Unlike Miss. Manners here," Xiaclon huffed in exasperation, "I have the fun stuff."
"I must be hallucinating." Ambrose muttered to himself, shaking his head and rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
"Shall we test that?" Therik asked, baring his fangs in a cruel grin. Ambrose backpedaled and grabbed his mug as a weapon.
"Stop tormenting him," Xiaclon said, looking down at her counterpart, who humphed, "we are tied to him and his. You remember what happens to us if he is harmed." she looked at the hyperventilating fox, "You have no need to fear us, we are incapable of harming you. To do so would be to harm ourselves."
"Oh, you have always been so proper, Xia. Why can't you lighten up sometimes?" Therik asked, rolling his eyes.
"To 'lighten up,' as you say, would be against my nature, thus is impossible."
"Ah, the laws, hate those things." Therik muttered as he lay his head on his paws, eyes losing their mirth. Then, looking up, he said, "Your coffees done." Ambrose turned and poured some into his mug, then padded back to his work-station with the wolves close behind.
"I need get back to work." he said, then sipped the coffee. The moment the drink touched his tongue, he spewed it and started coughing. Once he regained his breath, he exclaimed, "There is no way I made it that strong!" He turned and saw Therik crack a smile. "I thought you couldn't harm me."
"I can't hurt you, but I can play with you all I want." the dark wolf explained, grinning wide and ignoring Xiaclon's glare.
"You can go shave your brush." Ambrose snapped. Therik just grinned even wider. Ambrose looked into his cup at the coffee, then shrugged, "More caffeine." He turned back and looked at the screens, then explained his predicament, "I need to get these infernal insects to grow faster but any change I make to their life-string causes unwanted effects! If they grow quick, they end up small, but if they are to grow large, they do so extremely slowly." He took a drink of coffee.
"Have you tried any of the changes?" Xiaclon asked.
"No, that would take too long," the fennec responded, "I have my computer run predictions. That way I get the results in about five minutes. Otherwise, I would have to wait for the blasted hoppers to mature, which takes several days. And I only have a fortnight."
"Have you tried hitting them with hammers?" Therik inquired with a childish grin on his muzzle. Ambrose shot him a questioning look as Xiaclon sighed.
"No, I don't think that would work." Ambrose answered.
"Drat." the male wolf responded.
"I'm beginning to think that a quick maturation period and large size are mutually exclusive. But the controllers are on different sections of the life-sting, so they shouldn't be."
"Do they have to be large?" Xiaclon asked.
"Yes, the contract was quite specific, they had to reach a minimum of two inches within two days of hitting adulthood or less. I was given a two fortnights figure it out, but I just can't." Ambrose set his coffee mug down and rubbed his eyes with clinched fists.
"You could try explosives." interjected Therik.
"You are not helping." Xiaclon said, then turned pack to the fox, "You are obviously in need of sleep, perhaps if you rested the answer would come to you."
"You don't understand!" Ambrose grabbed his ears and pulled them, "The order came straight from the Emperor! I can't fail!"
"What do you mean?"
"My land used to sit inside of the Crockmire kingdom, so I made weapons for them. Well, the Freyhedge Empire took Crockmire, and I was indirectly responsible for many of the lost imperial troops and civilians. The empire has some pretty strict rules of combat, so I was put on trial as a war criminal, with the Emperor himself presiding. Turns out his family owed mine a favor, so he cleared me of all charges, on the condition that when I got a job from him, I drop whatever I happen to be doing and finish the task in the allotted time." Ambrose sighed, "Fortunately, he hasn't given me many jobs, but this one's impossible!"
"Have you tried zapping them with magic?" Therik asked. Xiaclon started staring at the computer screen.
"Thats actually how I will edit the life-string, once I have a possible solution." Ambrose explained. "I would take some hopper flesh and use the computer to direct a stream of Lux at the life-string in a cell, then clone the bug with that strand. The problem is that I haven't found a pattern that works well enough in the models to invest the energy on."
"Well, you'd best take a peek at your screens." Therik said, jerking his head in the direction on the flickering panels. Ambrose spun around to see the jumbled mess of letters and numbers come to a rest. He scanned them with sudden energy.
"This might work!" he yelled excitedly, doing a small dance. He stopped, suddenly curious, and wondered aloud, "How were those figures entered? I didn't do it." He gaze shifted to the pale wolf, "Did you do this?" he asked pointing at the screens. Xiaclon nodded. Ambrose looked back and forth between the wolf and computer, then muttered, "I need to sit down." He plopped down into a swivel chair and told the computer to test the changes. As the time passed, Ambrose almost drifted off to sleep.
Just as he was about to slip into dreams, Therik said, "Hey! You're needed in the land of the living."
Ambrose jerked upright, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and responded, "What?"
"The screens aren't doing anything."
Ambrose looked, and indeed, the monitors displayed a message indicating success.
SIM. # 1534 COMPLETE
SUCCESS POTENTIAL 94%
RECOMMENDED ACTION: LIVE TEST
Ambrose did a short gig in joy. As he entered the command that started the actual experiment, he hummed a happy tune to himself. Then, stretching and yawning, he closed his eyes and drifted into sweet, sweet slumber.
He woke to glaring light and a white tile ceiling. As he set up, Ambrose noticed that he was hooked into life-support equipment. A weasel in nurse garb was watching a magical projection that displayed the Lieutenant's life-signs alongside of a rotating image of the fox. The nurse noticed that Ambrose was awake and said, "Herr Fennec, it's good to see you awake."
"What happened?" Ambrose asked, slightly groggy.
"You were found in the bio-lab, unconscious." The weasel responded, jotting down notes. "After you were hooked into the scanners, we found almost lethal levels of caffeine in your system. I don't think you would have lasted much longer in that state."
"How long was I out?" the fennec inquired, shaking his head.
"Three days from when you were found, Mein Herr." the nurse responded in a calm and collected manner. "Oh, the computer was displaying a message about test completion." he started to rummage around in a filing cabinet, muttering to himself, "Why can't I ever find those things? Ah, here it is! Simulation number one thousand, five hundred and thirty-four was a success. A currier has already been sent to the capital with the news." Ambrose's ears perked up and his eyes obtained a gleeful sparkle at the news. He hopped off of the gurney and instantly collapsed. His left leg had no function. The nurse looked back from his work at the sound of the crash and sighed, "You really should stay in bed and rest."
"You won't get any further argument from me." Ambrose stated as the weasel helped him back into the bed, where he drifted into a content doze.
