Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Arion remained beside the broken concrete foundations for several moments after Matthias finished speaking, watching the wind push fine snow across the basin and collect against the exposed roots along the forest edge.

”All of them,” he repeated.

Matthias nodded.

Arion looked at him then, irritation returning for an entirely different reason.

”Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

The older man’s expression barely changed.

”That we wanted out?”

”That you were exhausted. That August was partially a controlled release. That Claudia’s mixture had reached the forest. That the elders were holding everyone together because you could not die properly.”

Arion gestured toward him.

”You gave me fragments. Dominic. Adrian. Succession. Theodore. You made it sound as though all of you were waiting for someone to take command again.”

”We were.”

”That is not the same thing.”

”No.”

Matthias adjusted the collar of his field coat against the wind before looking toward Arion with an expression that was almost annoyingly calm.

”For the same reason you waited until today to ask me what I actually wanted.”

Arion’s eyes narrowed.

Matthias continued.

”I didn’t trust you.”

That answer stopped him.

”Or Dean,” Matthias added.

Arion stared at him.

”You were invited into our home.”

”After you restored my body and surrounded me with people carrying enough weapons to turn the room into rubble.”

”That was reasonable.”

”I agree.”

Matthias’s mouth curved faintly.

”But you were still a man I had known through a corrupted connection for years without ever speaking to properly. You had power over us, a family to protect, an empire already demanding most of your time, and no reason to care whether the elders wanted a retirement plan.”

Arion almost objected to the wording before deciding Matthias had earned some latitude.

”And Dean?”

”I had heard him through you.”

”That seems like a reason to trust him.”

”It was a reason to be cautious.”

Arion laughed despite himself.

Matthias’s smile widened.

”He complains constantly.”

”He does not.”

”He complained about the first twelve beasts.”

”They were infected.”

”He complained that if you restored enough knights, they would eventually become palace staff.”

Arion folded his arms.

”He was correct.”

”Yes.”

Matthias looked toward the vehicles, where Elias and Hunter were speaking quietly beside Hendrik’s tactical display.

”And yet every creature you brought near him was fed, treated, sheltered, named if they didn’t have one, and protected. He complains about Ducky putting muddy paws on the floors while allowing the animal to sleep near the western terrace doors because it dislikes storms. He complains that Elias has become part of your work and then makes certain Elias has access to his sister whenever he wants.”

Arion’s expression softened despite himself.

Matthias glanced back at him.

”He threatened to send me back to the forest within minutes of realizing he could hear me, but he never treated me as less than human.”

”That sounds like Dean.”

”It took time to understand the difference between someone complaining because he wants you gone and someone complaining because apparently that is how he shows affection.”

Arion smiled.

”He would object to that description.”

”I assumed so.”

The remaining tension between them eased slightly, although not enough for Arion to forget everything Matthias had admitted.

Trust would take longer.

That was acceptable.

Arion turned toward the forest.

”If Dominic controlled the infection rather than creating it, where did it begin?”

Matthias’s amusement vanished.

”I don’t know.”

”You served him for decades.”

”Yes.”

”You have almost a century of memories through the collective.”

”And none of them reach that far clearly.”

Arion studied him.

”What do you know?”

Matthias took a slow breath and stepped away from the ruined foundations, boots crunching through the thin layer of frozen snow as he moved closer to the edge of the basin.

”The infection started somewhere inside this forest.”

”That is broad.”

”The forest was broader then.”

Arion joined him.

Matthias gestured north, toward terrain now hidden beneath dense conifers and the rising slope.

”Some of the oldest memories are not human enough to make sense of. They are impressions rather than events. Hunger. Pain. Something beneath the ground. Animals changing before anyone understood why.”

”Before Dominic?”

”Long before.”

”How long?”

”I cannot tell you.”

Arion frowned.

”Is there someone older?”

Matthias went quiet.

Arion turned his head.

”That expression means yes.”

”There is an ancient one.”

The phrase was not reverent this time. It sounded cautious.

”How old?”

”I do not know.”

”Older than you?”

”By enough that nobody remembers him arriving.”

Arion’s attention sharpened.

”A knight?”

”Perhaps.”

”That is not reassuring.”

”I cannot tell you what he was originally.”

Matthias looked toward the deeper forest.

”He has been asleep for most of the time I can remember. Not ordinary sleep. The kind the oldest infected enter when they stop responding to everything around them.”

”Where?”

”Deep north.”

”Can he communicate?”

”I don’t know.”

”You never spoke to him?”

Matthias shook his head.

”I felt him. That was enough.”

Arion’s instincts tightened again.

”What does that mean?”

”The others avoid the area.”

”Because he is dangerous?”

”Because the forest becomes strange around him.”

Arion waited.

Matthias searched for language.

”The connection goes quiet. Not severed. Muffled. Even beasts stop moving normally near that territory.”

”And you never investigated?”

”We tried.”

”We?”

”The elders.”

”What happened?”

Matthias’s jaw tightened slightly.

”We decided not to try again.”

That answer carried enough weight that Arion did not immediately press.

Eventually, he asked, ”Do you think he started the infection?”

”I don’t know.”

”But you think there is a connection.”

”I think whatever happened began somewhere in this forest, and the oldest creature we know is sleeping near one of the oldest corrupted areas.”

Arion looked north.

That was not proof.

It was barely even evidence.

Still, after months of learning that every explanation they had accepted for the corruption was incomplete, he had no intention of ignoring it.

”Does Elias know about him?”

”Only fragments.”

Arion sighed.

Matthias looked almost apologetic.

”You wanted honesty.”

”I did.”

”You look unhappy about receiving it.”

”I have a three-month-old son, an empire, several dozen infected humans waiting to be restored, a forest full of beasts that apparently considers me administrative infrastructure, and now you are telling me there is something ancient sleeping underground.”

”I did not say underground.”

Arion turned slowly.

Matthias’s mouth twitched.

”That was a joke.”

”It was a bad one.”

”I have been out of practice.”

Arion rubbed a hand across his face before looking toward the northern trees again.

One problem at a time.

First, the elders.

Then, perhaps, whatever had been sleeping long enough for Matthias to call it ancient.