The Lineage of the White Wolf — Yenice

The Lineage of the White Wolf — Yenice

Unbeknownst to them, the Lineage of the White Wolf had arrived in Yenice one week after Luciel had already left. At last back in their hometown with their new families, the party found themselves overcome not with nostalgia or happiness, but with the crushing fatigue of a long journey.

It wasn’t homesickness, or even a desire to congratulate Luciel on slaying a dragon, that had brought the Lineage back to their birthplace. It was simple dissatisfaction with their old home in Grandol.

Sekiros and Melina were parents now, as were Basura and Mernell, and that meant their children were halflings—half-beast, half-human. The sad truth was halflings did not lead easy lives. From the haughty elves to beastfolk to dwarves to humans, no one was especially welcoming of their kind. Even a country like Grandol saw itself divided among the races, and a family of halflings was essentially outcast in every community.

The children of the A-rank adventuring party were no exceptions, and it caused their mothers no end of stress and mental degradation. The party’s leader, Bazan, simply couldn’t stand to watch it go on and presented them with two options: return to Merratoni or follow Luciel to Yenice, where he was said to be making strides in racial equality.

And so there they were, in the City of Freedom. Bazan peered around for somewhere to park the carriage, scarcely believing how different everything looked.

“Where do we find an inn around here?”

“Maybe we should go see Luciel first,” Sekiros suggested.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do us wrong,” Basura agreed.

Evidently, the mental fatigue of their wives took precedence over their own physical fatigue. Bazan understood that.

“All right, let’s find the Healer’s Guild,” he said.

“I’ll go ask where it is,” Sekiros offered, running towards a nearby citizen.

Bazan and Basura glanced around, and Bazan said, “It ain’t just me, is it? Place has changed a lot.”

“Yeah. Definitely not just you. I remember the races bein’ way more divided, y’know?”

Now, the passers-by they observed were beastraces of every type, and they intermingled freely.

Sekiros returned with a sullen expression.

“What’s up?” Bazan asked.

“Well.” Sekiros chose his words. “Luciel isn’t here anymore.”

“What?” Bazan cried.

“You’re kiddin’ me,” said Basura.

What remaining strength the party had vanished all at once. They had been betting on the young healer, hoping to see him far more than they’d realized.

“I heard we can ask around the old guildhall where the slums used to be,” Sekiros noted, his tone skeptically hopeful. “Or the main building in the medical district.”

“The slums?” Bazan repeated. “Right, that is where the guild used to be.”

“Hopefully it ain’t a shack by now,” Basura said sarcastically.

“Actually,” Sekiros went on, “the slums are gone. And they’re calling the halflings ‘twinbloods’ now.”

“Twinwhat?” his companions said in unison.

“Luciel says it technically means the same thing as halfling, but it implies that mixed races aren’t ‘half.’ They’re the best parts of both people combined into one greater whole.”

“Yeah, that sounds like some Luciel shit,” Bazan replied. He couldn’t lie. He liked the healer’s ignorant idealism.

“You can’t tell me everyone was cool with that, though,” Basura said.

“They weren’t. But apparently, the halflings took it in stride and are trying to get behind the idea of it. It only took about half a year before people really started using the term.”

Basura grabbed Sekiros by the shoulders. “You for real right now?”

Sekiros smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Looks like Luciel’s been cookin’ up a storm. If we wanna hear more, we need to check out his residence at the old guildhall or the medical district.”

“That kid’s gettin’ bigger than any of us ever thought, isn’t he?” Bazan said.

“He did slay a dragon,” Basura commented.

“True,” said Sekiros. “Oh, nearly forgot. I heard Galba’s in charge around here now.”

“Galba?” Bazan repeated.

“No way,” Basura said in disbelief.

And that was when it happened.

“Took your sweet time, did you?” a voice behind them said. “Also, try to remember that you have wives in the carriage. They look a little nervous. You know, being in a foreign country and all.”

A chill the trio had not felt for some time ran through their bones.

“Galba,” all three said at once.

“Long time no see. You all must be exhausted. A retired old adventurer like me shouldn’t be able to sneak up on veterans like you.”

Fear knotted the party’s guts. The humble attitude was a load of bull, and they knew it. Galba approached the carriage and shared cheerful greetings with the ex-receptionists inside, then returned to the party when his pleasantries were finished.

“All right, let’s get you booked at an inn and we can talk business tomorrow,” he said.

“Uh, care to point us in the right direction?” Bazan asked. “Things are a bit different from how we remember.”

“True, true. I’ll take you there.”

On the way, Galba recounted Luciel’s many local escapades and successes. “So Melina and Mernell should rest easy around here,” he concluded. “Race is meaning less by the day in these parts, and Luciel’s really made this a great place to raise kids.”

“Can’t believe a guy like him went and got this famous,” Sekiros said.

“Oh, believe me when I say this is just the beginning. Speaking of beginnings, I have plenty of work for the Lineage of the White Wolf to do, so get comfortable.”

Galba dropped enough coin for the party and their families at the innkeeper’s desk and left a very confused group of beastmen with a grin on his face. Bazan felt an odd combination of anxiety and hope for the future.