The light of the morning sun had just begun to creep through the blinds of Anamar’s custom-made stained glass window, decorating the room with blues and pinks and greens as he awoke to the sound of distant ravens screeching echoes of a new day. He could feel the heat of the sun’s rays emanate across his forehead, as he rolled over back into his pillow. Before he was able to fall back asleep however, the ravens swallowed the silence, louder then, awakening him once more. This time, he begrudgingly threw the blanket off of himself and sat up, rubbing his eyes open. He looked around the room, at the plain assortment of furniture and trinkets atop them, and finally locked eyes with himself in the mirror at the opposite side of the room. He could never quite bring himself to look nice in the morning. To Anamar, a soldier’s duty, no matter their rank, was to his post, not his appearance. Nevertheless, he sat up and slipped on his pair of sandals placed roughly beside his bed and looked out towards the window, where carved into the glass sat an outline of a great wolf, the animal that Anamar most admired.

Slowly, Anamar began to feel a sense of confusion, a feeling of something missing perhaps, as if some event had occurred that night that had not sat well with him. It was different from the disturbing effect of the Ether Crystals, always steering his thoughts into the dark places in his mind. No, as he stood up, he remembered he had had a strange dream that night, one that seemed to pester him more so than usual. It was not uncommon for him to dream. Far from it, for during the night his mind would often wander into a future where he ruled over their city state. It did not seem unusual for him to have these dreams, as he was the firstborn child of his late father, Hadar Gerardus, High Commander of the city state Kalur, who had died but a few days prior. However, during the night that had just passed, he had not imagined ruling over Kalur, built into the Vayda mountain range, but over strange lands with red soil that were unfamiliar to him. It had felt eerily real.

As Anamar began to dress in his ceremonial uniform, a ritualistic set of clothes he only wore to official military gatherings, a strange voice seemed to linger in his mind, one that he thought he had heard before, but he could not place it to a face. The voice seemed to echo a sentiment of urgency and warning for the days to come, yet Anamar could not remember the exact words. It wasn’t until he began to tighten the straps of his gauntlet that the memory of the voice became clearer. It had told of dark times to come, for his father’s passing would leave the seat of rulership vacant and in need of being filled. In Anamar’s mind, this seat had already been claimed, for he was generally regarded to be the firstborn son of Hadar Gerardus, and thus the rightful heir to the seat over Kalur. Yet, the echo of the voice continued to remind him of the ones that doubted him and what the lust for power could do, especially in a place like Kalur with all its riches. His identical twin brother, Erunir, would come for his throat, the voice had warned. He would wrest the seat of Kalur from his grasp and betray him. Anamar did not want to acknowledge what the voice had told him, yet he could not deny that he had been afraid of this for a long time. Erunir was, after all, a spitting image of Anamar, and more cunning as well. What if he were to steal the throne, and claim Anamar’s birthright as his own. What if he—

“No,” Anamar said to himself aloud. “No, my brother would not do such a thing.”

Anamar, of course, had had his own doubts, but he knew in his heart that he was the successor of the throne. He had to be. It was then that he gazed at the mark branded onto the upper part of his left arm that was supposed to signify that he was the firstborn twin. It felt almost hot as Anamar finished buckling the straps of his second gauntlet. Perhaps it were the city state’s Ether Crystals that caused his mind to play tricks on him after all. The continuous exposure to these valuable but ambiguous sources of power had driven many men and women to madness, and so Anamar thought it possible that his grasp on reality might be strained, especially with the stress of his father’s passing still fresh on his mind.

Then, the room turned cold. The bright sun seemed to cease shining its light, as the sky grew dark and windy. The air in his room turned from a warm blanket to an icy cloak, as his ears began to ring. The voice from his dreams, now suddenly vivid and alive, appeared to him while he was wide awake.

“Have no fear, my child.” The air in the room seemed to vibrate. “You are, and always will be, Anamar, the firstborn son of Hadar Gerardus and heir to rule over the city state of Kalur,” the voice whispered.

Anamar felt a shiver run down his spine, but mustered up the strength to speak. “How do you know?” he hissed. “If you are the voice from my dream, reveal yourself to me. Who are you?”

The voice replied, “I am the one who branded your younger brother, Erunir, with the same mark you have.”

Anamar could feel a great anger begin to stir inside him. “Why?” Anamar asked. “You had no right to do what you have done. Reveal your name so that I may reconcile this wrongdoing.” Anamar paused for a moment and then shouted once more: “Reveal your name!”

But with Anamar’s screams came two knocks on the door. The air regained its warmth and the sun peeked through the window once more. The colors of the morning light streamed across his room.

Anamar quickly finished preparing himself, as he sloppily took a comb and brushed his hair to one side. “Good enough,” he whispered to himself as he went to unlock the door for his visitors.

On the other side of the large wooden frame stood two soldiers. One of the soldiers wore a pin resembling the wolf in Anamar’s stained glass window.

“Yelgin, I told you not to wear that thing. It is not part of your uniform.”

Anamar smirked to himself while he said this, for deep down he felt a strong sense of pride in his friend for supporting him so much over the past few days. However, his father’s passing had created a great tension between him and his brother, and Anamar did not want people outwardly siding with him before his official induction as the next High Commander of Kalur.

“Fine,” Yelgin replied. “I’ll take it off... for now.”

“Thank you,” Anamar said. “Now, I’m assuming you’re here to escort me to the catacombs.”

“Yes sir,” the other soldier answered. “We must get going. The ceremony is set to begin at noon.”

“Well then,” Anamar said, patting Yelgin on the shoulder, “let’s get a move on.”

They entered the streets and made their way to the entrance of the catacombs, a large underground structure underneath the citadel of the city, where those brave in battle or fortitude were laid to rest.

“Stay back and watch our flank,” Yelgin instructed his partner, just before they went in. “I need a moment to speak with Anamar in private.”

Yelgin made his way to Anamar’s side, and caught his eyes gazing out towards the sky, where it had become darkened with clouds. He began to speak softly. “Listen, Anamar, I want you to know that whatever happens, I’ll have your back.”

Anamar thought for a moment before replying. “I know, Yelgin. You’ve always been loyal to me and Kalur.”

“I’ve tried my best, Anamar, but I alone cannot stop what might befall us today. So please remember, it isn’t just me who’s loyal to you, there are many willing to fight for your claim.”

Anamar understood what Yelgin had just said, but in his mind, his claim was what every soldier should be fighting for. He was the true heir to Kalur, after all, and it angered him to think that anyone would doubt him. “Thank you, Yelgin, but after my father is buried and I am named High Commander, Kalur will continue its prosperity under my command.”

“I hope you are right, my friend.” Yelgin smiled for a moment before allowing Anamar to enter the catacombs before him.

As Anamar passed him, Yelgin touched the wolf pin tucked away beneath his collar, before covering it back up and following him into the darkened tunnel, which had only a few torches hanging from brackets on the wall lighting the way forward.

“This way,” Anamar motioned with his hand towards a large opening farther down the tunnel. “I can already see a group has formed.”

The trio made their way down the tunnel, deep into the bowels of the catacombs and out into the grand chamber, where an ornate stone tomb sat at the opposite side of the entrance. On it was inscribed “Here Rests Hadar Gerardus, High Commander of the Great City State of Kalur”. Inside the chamber was a plethora of various officers from the Kalur military, Hadar Gerardus’s political advisors, his personal council, and other high ranking soldiers. Alongside them, standing next to his father’s tomb was Anamar’s twin brother, Erunir. He was dressed in a ceremonial uniform identical to Anamar’s, but with a dark cloak covering his back and head. He had one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other carrying his serpent dagger, a hardened steel blade with an emerald fitted into the pommel.

Council Member Akmadur, who had been Hadar Gerardus’s lifelong friend and chief advisor, recognised for his brilliant military tactics, stepped in front of the tomb. “Excuse me, my good people. Please direct your attention towards myself. It is now time to begin the ceremony,” he shouted across the chambers. “It is with great sorrow and heartache that we gather today to lay our late High Commander Hadar Gerardus to rest. However, at the same time we celebrate the life he has lived, and the future that he saw so vividly in his mind, a future he put his life on the line to manifest. He is survived by his two sons, Anamar and Erunir and has put his faith and trust in his legacy into them.”

After Akmadur finished speaking, he instructed his assistant to help him close the tomb and laid Hadar Gerardus’s sword atop a ledge above the tomb’s door. Then, he turned his attention towards the crowd and asked for those willing and able to pay their respects. One by one, each man and woman present in the chamber walked to the tomb and knelt before it. Once the ritual was finished, Akmadur addressed the crowd once more. “It has been a great honor serving our late High Commander, but the time has come now to appoint an heir to the seat of our prosperous city state. According to the wishes of Hadar Gerardus, his firstborn son will inherit his position.”

The room fell silent, and the air filled with tension. Anamar scanned the chamber until his eyes met those of his brother. Erunir grinned for a moment and then slowly began walking towards Anamar, all the while flicking the dagger around in his hand. Finally, Erunir stopped in the center of the room and turned towards Council Member Akmadur. He had a strange look in his eyes.

“My brother, who calls himself Anamar, does not like trouble,” said Erunir. “On the contrary. He is known for avoiding conflict if anything. That is not the case with me. I face my problems head on, just as my father always did. The mystery surrounding our identities has been a pestilence in my life for too long. Nobody truly knows which one of us is the true heir to our father’s throne, and there is only one way to solve that.” Erunir paused for a moment and turned his gaze once again towards his brother. “I call upon the traditions of old. By Kalur’s own rule, I challenge my brother to a duel of blades.” A gasp was let out by many in attendance as Erunir continued, “That is the only solution. We will let the Gods decide the fate of Kalur.”

Akmadur seemed to think for what felt like an age, but finally he obliged and accepted the proposal of Erunir, for it was the tradition to allow a challenge of this kind to decide a debate. The Gods would allow the true heir to live, and would let the other die.

“Well,” Akmadur said, turning towards Anamar, “do you accept your brother’s challenge?”

Anamar felt a storm of emotions rupture inside him, a mix of anger and resentment and sadness. He could not believe that his brother would ever request this, a fight to the death. He did not care, though, for he knew it in his heart that he was the true heir to Kalur, and if fighting his brother was the only way he could cement his rule, then so be it. The Gods would be on his side.

“I accept,” Anamar replied.

The crowd quickly descended into chatter. Akmadur then confirmed the duel, and began to lead the group through the tunnel, outside into the darkened skies above. Once outside the catacombs, Akmadur ascended one of the citadel’s watch posts, and shouted out towards the heart of the city.

“Hear ye, citizens of the great city state of Kalur. Hadar Gerardus has been laid to rest, but the heir of the late High Commander has not been appointed. The two sons have agreed to decide the position on the outcome of a duel. In accordance with the traditions of Kalur, the brothers will now fight... to the death. The winner shall be named High Commander and ruler of Kalur.”

Quickly, a great crowd formed and surrounded the two brothers. They both began to strip themselves of their outer ceremonial uniforms, with the purpose of fighting more freely and accurately with their daggers. Anamar watched how Erunir held his weapon in his hand, tossing it through his fingers. The emerald stone in the pommel seemed to taunt Anamar, for his own dagger, in contrast, was an old piece; one given to him by his father a long time ago. The hilt was wrapped in leather and scarred from battle.

As the two brothers awaited Akmadur’s call, it started to rain. Anamar looked out into the crowd in search of Yelgin, but his friend was nowhere to be found. He searched through the amassing audience, but the only faces that stared back were those of fellow soldiers or people who came to watch the duel itself. Anamar thought that perhaps he was hiding behind the crowd, or maybe he had ventured off to find a better angle. He wished that he could talk to him before the fight began, but decided to focus on the duel at hand. Reaching for his own dagger, Anamar felt a strange metallic bump on the side of his belt. It was the wolf pin that Yelgin had been wearing, fastened to the side of Anamar’s outfit. Taking the pin into his hand, Anamar studied it before deciding to place it on his own collar.

Then, as the mountain winds began to pick up and Anamar prepared to duel his brother, a familiar voice came to him.

“Anamar, I have foreseen you are going to lose this duel. You are going to lose everything.”

Anamar did not know what to think. The voice could be right, he thought for a moment. Nonetheless, he placed his duty above his fear once again, and brushed off the voice’s warning. However, the voice continued its foretelling.

“It is not your fault, Anamar, as this is a fight unwinnable for any mortal man. Although you are skilled, you are no match for your brother on this particular day, as I will aid him in fighting you. Though, I will make sure not to kill you, as you are now my instrument, a divine vessel of Psikar, God of the Spirit.”

Anamar did not care anymore that he could be dealing with a God. He could feel the hatred once again boil inside him, and pulled out his dagger. He clutched the wolf pin on his collar and let his gaze fall to Erunir.

“We will see,” Anamar whispered to himself. He wiped the rain off of his face and pointed his dagger towards his brother. Council Member Akmadur then motioned for the crowd to be silent as he cleared his throat.

“By the old traditions of Kalur, I hereby proclaim this duel of blades between Anamar and Erunir to have officially begun. Now duel!”

“Gods be just,” Akmadur then concluded softly to himself.

The fight between the two brothers began shortly after, as each clashed blades over and over. Anamar could feel the strength of his brother, a level to which he had never witnessed before. Erunir’s blade seemed to slice through the very air itself as heavy blows left the serpent dagger and made contact with Anamar’s own blade. His brother seemed faster and more precise than ever before. Anamar mustered up all the strength he could, but Erunir’s hits started to become too much to handle. As his brother came down with his blade, he cut Anamar’s left arm, right below his mark. Anamar could feel the warm blood drip down his arm as he became enraged, and began to attack more viciously.

“Good, brother. Now you’ve got it,” Erunir said laughing, his voice different. “Perhaps you’ll have the luck to strike me back.”

Anamar could not care less what his brother was saying; all he knew was that the Erunir he used to know was not the man standing before him at that moment. Even his eyes had a strange, detached look to them, almost as if he wasn’t truly there. Then, the voice returned.

“Anamar, you cannot ignore my warning. Don’t you see? I have taken possession of Erunir’s body, and I will defeat you no matter what you do. That is why you will lose.”

At that moment, Erunir lashed out towards Anamar with immense force, knocking him back and causing him to drop his dagger, its leather-bound handle ricocheting against the stone pavement out of Anamar’s reach. Erunir began to walk towards his brother, who reached frantically for his dagger. Erunir stepped on Anamar’s arm, and his leather boot caused a spurt of blood to shoot out of his brother’s wound, onto the wet stones of the citadel square. Anamar screamed in pain as Erunir knelt down. “You see,” he said quietly.

Erunir then proceeded to lift his dagger into the air, but, as he did so, an arrow flew across the square, striking him in his shoulder. Anamar quickly kicked his brother off of him, grabbing his dagger. A cacophony of screams erupted behind him as a cavalry of horses and soldiers rushed to Anamar’s side, shielding him from his brother. At the head of the charge was Yelgin, who jumped from his horse and unsheathed his sword, pointing it towards Erunir.

The crowd watched on as Yelgin shouted towards Erunir, “You are no true heir to Kalur, and worse still, you are no worthy son to Hadar Gerardus. Traitor would be a better suited title for you.” Yelgin looked towards the band of soldiers behind Erunir who had also pulled out their swords. “And for all of your supporters,” he finished.

“Well,” Erunir replied, a grin on his face. With a deft movement, he pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. “It certainly looks like I have won the duel. It doesn’t seem fair for a glorified soldier and his band of misfits to save a weakened and outmatched liar from his fate now, does it?”

Council Member Akmadur began to speak, trying to salvage what had just happened, but both Anamar and Erunir could only focus on one another. Then, as Anamar locked eyes with his brother, he could see that Psikar, God of the Spirit, had left his body. Erunir’s eyes then returned to normal, as his memory seemed to recover. Smirking, he ordered his loyal soldiers to attack Anamar and his followers. Erunir’s men complied with the order as swiftly as it had been given, charging towards the opposing side of the square. Swords clashed and sparks flew as metal connected, cutting through air and flesh. Anamar’s army tried to defend themselves for as long as they could stand, but Erunir had most of Kalur’s army on his side. Eventually, Anamar’s forces were pushed back from the citadel, down towards the outskirts of the lower portion of the city, where they continued to fight.

While fighting, Anamar once again heard Psikar’s voice. “Anamar, give in and obey me. Leave the city. Flee this battle, for it is a lost cause. Escape with Yelgin and the rest of your men and travel southwards, far away from Kalur and its corruption. Your father’s city state has been lost to madness. In return, I promise you a great realm of your own. A society built upon the foundation of true strength, like the one I showed you in your dreams. Let go of your past, let go of Kalur. Let it be the time of the wolf.”

Anamar thought for a moment and looked out over the battle. It was clear that he would lose if he remained. And so, Anamar ordered Yelgin and all his men to begin the retreat towards the main gates of the city. Anamar climbed up onto a horse and rode towards the gates, his men following closely behind. They had no quarrels with killing anybody in their way, as they rushed towards the gates. As arrows began to fly past their heads, one by one, Anamar and his men passed through the gates and departed Kalur. They bolted down the mountainside and onto the pastures below.

From a distance, drenched in rain and sweat, Anamar and his men watched as the city’s gates were closed behind them. Its massive doors looked foreign now to Anamar, as a silhouette appeared above them, on the battlements of the city walls. Erunir stood before them, locking eyes with his brother one last time. Anamar thought only of his brother’s betrayal and of the hatred in his heart. Erunir then turned his back on him, towards the people of Kalur, where shouts of celebration echoed in the winds below.

One last time, Anamar heard Psikar speak to him.

“Follow my guide, head south and rebuild. You will be rewarded with a great band of warriors loyal to you that will continue to fight in your name against the Cattle Folk. Do this, Anamar, for it is your birthright and purpose in this life.”

Anamar finally gave in to the God. And so, he looked towards Yelgin, who was tending to his wounded men and pronounced, “We shall move south, past the Geron Forest and to the southern coastline, where we will take what we need⁠ - supplies, weapons, women, and whatever else⁠ - and thrive once more. Because I am and shall always be Anamar, the true firstborn son of Hadar Gerardus.”

Anamar paused for a moment, and looked out towards the horizon, where the sun was setting, and removed his wolf pin. Clutching it in his hand, he smiled and declared: “The time of the wolf has begun.”