About The Great Seer

DAEMON

"How are you so sure she told a lie? She drank the water of life did she not? And unlike the two other seers she is not dead… at least not yet."

Daemon watched as Barim, one of the servants in his quarters packed his belongings. Yaren was standing beside him, beside himself with anger. 

"I know you Daemon! And you wouldn't do that… at least you wouldn't leave the job unfinished." Yaren finished grimly.

At least, it would seem Yaren knew him better than their own father.

"You must admit, she is something. Took myself by surprise." Daemon clicked his tongue impassively.

"I shall kill her." Yaren muttered lowly, his voice dripping of a lethal intent.

"You must not." Daemon said as he glared at the servant when he touched his books in the 'wrong way'. Heaving a sigh, Daemon undertook packing his books on his own.

"Why?!"

"Her life is mine, Yaren."

A slow, sinister smile spread over Yaren's lips. "That works too," but then, he grew sombre. "Daemon, the borders are horrible. Perhaps we should escape to your uncles and bide our time."

Daemon simply shot his half-brother a look, "But it's true that someone must quell the Arising Rogues."

"But we can't do it alone."

Daemon scribbled something on a piece of paper and whistled for his raven. "We?"

Yaren frowned, "I won't be left behind! Especially not on a venture that might finally quell my blood rage of the damn seer!"

Daemon knew fully well he couldn't convince Yaren otherwise. And if he was being honest to himself, he needed someone like Yaren with him.

"Fine. But we won't be going alone." He said as he strapped the Raven with the letter.

"Are you writing to Shadow?"

"Indeed. My mother's followers still reside at the Persian Glaciers, and you of all people know how much the Alpha King wants them dead. If they follow me to the borders, at least they will be unreachable to the many that want them dead here."

"How many are these followers?" Yaren asked suspiciously.

Daemon carefully tossed a book into a bag, "A little over two hundred."

Anger coloured Yaren's features as realisation dawned on him. He harshly shoved at Daemon who did not budge, "You mean to tell me you've such an army and you allowed our father to walk over you all these years! You should have killed him!"

"And yet you still call him father? Would you truly have been happy if I took his life?"

Anger simmered in Yaren's eyes, but they cooled down the moment his words sank in.

Because they were true. Of the both of them, it was only Yaren that held the most attachment to the Alpha King. He, the son of the Alpha King's former healer. He, the son his father never looked at twice. He, the son who was born out of wedlock. He, one of the seven NorthSteed bastards.

"Besides, do you think the NorthSteed pack or the Alpha King can be easily defeated? Ours is a pack of tens of thousands, throw in our father's Arctic Wolf in the mix, the man is practically unreachable. I know that much, Yaren. And I believe you do."

Yaren simply stewed in his rage, knowing very well that Daemon's situation was hopeless from the onset. Their father who wanted him dead was far too powerful and unreachable. His hatred for Daemon had always been so overtly obvious. 

While many whispered that Daemon was the one who should rightfully inherit his Arctic Wolf and position as Alpha, it had been obvious that Alpha King Xavier NorthSteed did not intend to pass down that role to him.

It had been a wonder, how a man could reserve such violent hatred for his one true son of his one true mate. Although if Daemon were to be sincere, he stopped wondering that a long time ago.

"But his hatred of you never mattered." Yaren muttered in a low voice, his voice growing terser with each word, "no matter how much he didn't like you, the approval of the five high ranking packs was all that mattered. And they all approved of you. If not for this outrageous lie, our father would never have had the chance to oust you!"

"Do you truly think this is the work of our father?" Daemon carelessly asked. At the same time a Raven flew to the sill of his windows. 

Yaren simply squinted at him, not knowing what to say. Daemon tied the bag holding his books close and walked to the window, "First, he is poisoned with Burning Silver…." He trailed.

Daemon untied the letter tied to the Raven's legs, unfolding it to read,

A seer

Zina WolfKnight.

18 Years Old.

Parents, unknown.

Adopted by the WolfKinght's.

Was abandoned in a forest at her birth.

He burned the letter using the fire from a lit candle.

"What does it say?" Yaren asked suspiciously.

"Just about the Great Seer."

Yaren rolled his eyes so hard Daemon feared they would fall off his eye socket. "Great seer my foot." He spat.

The letter Daemon had been waiting for all night had come late, just as Shadows Reports had also been way too late for Daemon to react. And even then, the contents did not assuage his curiosity.

"Second, three seers tumble into the Alpha King's banquet. Under the influence of the Water of Life and with the Mondem Ritual, one is exposed to be a fraud, one tells a haunting vision, and only one answers the Alpha King's question…."

"What do you think it all points to?" Yaren asked curiously.

"Moorim, obviously. But no matter how hard I think about it, Moorim can't become Alpha King. He has not the blood and he is wholly incapable of becoming much else save a beta wolf. His blood allegiance to the Alpha King will also prevent him from acquiring the Arctic Wolf even if he tried…." Daemon mused.

"Which means he is supporting one of our brothers, Daemon! And whoever it is could also be in league for levelling this horrible lie!"

"Whoever it is, I suppose we shall find out soon." The lack of enthusiasm in Daemon's words caused Yaren to frown at him. But before Yaren could respond to him, a knock sounded on the door. Daemon gestured for the servant helping him to pack to attend to it.

On opening the door, Bella BloodMoon bursted into the room, her eyes red and strewn with tears. Yaren groaned loudly while Daemon simply stared at the blonde, parasitic woman.