Silver

by Stormblessed

Chapter 1

I stood up as tall as possible, the wooden shaft of the spear gripped by my claws. The spearhead glinted in the dim light, the edge as sharp as a dragon’s tooth. Through the fur on my fingers, I could feel the grains of the wood. In total, the spear was almost a head taller than me, clearly made for someone much taller than myself. In my hands, it felt awkward and uncomfortable.

Facing me was a bipedal creature, clearly canine in nature, standing nearly two heads taller than myself, with fur of a dark red, almost brown color. His arms seemed almost too large for his body, capable of reaching the floor while he was still standing up. His tail, lithe and ending with a few small spikes, was slowly sweeping back and forth across the floor. He wore a dark red vest that matched the color of his fur, a sign of his family’s dominance, and a black collar around his neck that was studded with small rubies, the gemstones glowing faintly with reflected light. In his paw was another spear, about the same length as mine, although he clutched it with paws nearly two times the size of mine. His face was a mask of indifference, real emotion hidden behind his expression of apathy. As it happened, I was quite familiar with my opponent; his name was Rust (due to the color of his fur), he belonged to a species known as Alpha Gem Hounds, and he was my brother.

Like Rust, I was also wearing a red vest, although mine was of a more faded color. Likewise, I too wore a collar studded with rubies, although my collar was less prominent, the rubies and overall size much smaller. My arms were nowhere near as long, or as muscular, as my brother’s. In fact, I was unable to touch the floor with my hands when standing up, a skill that almost all Gem Hounds share. My fur was a silvery color, which had led to the inevitable name of “Silver.”

We were standing in a small cave, dug out of the ground years before by Beta workers. A lamp stood off to the side, slowly burning through a candle that had been illicitly smuggled to us the week before. The lamp was encased by orange stained glass, regulating the airflow to the candle’s flame and thus controlling its burn speed, and the intensity of the light given off. I had been ecstatic for nearly a week after I had figured out how it worked.

Suddenly, the candle’s flame flickered for a split second, plunging the room into a state of semi darkness. When the candle’s flame came back to life, I saw that Rust had already begun to move, lunging towards me with his spear lifted up into the air.

Quickly, I brought my own spear up, just in time to deflect my brother’s weapon as its blade scythed down towards my head. The sound of the strike rang out, echoing in the confined space as his spear fell off just to the side of my body. Even holding my weapon with both paws, the force of his blow was enough to knock me back a step. I tried to recover, but just as I got my balance back my brother struck again, another overhead blow that forced me back once more.

Even as we fought, as I grunted with the strain of each blow, my brother’s face remained seemingly indifferent, without a twitch of a smile or the hint of a grimace marring his countenance. His pupils were black as night, betraying nothing.

Rust followed it up with a side strike, and I jumped back to avoid the razor sharp tip of the spear as it swung past me. Then another overhead blow, this one a two handed blow that forced me to my knees. I tried to regain my footing, but before I could get all the way to a standing position Rust spun his spear around and hit me in the chest, hard, with the butt of the weapon.

I cried out as I was knocked backwards, my spear knocked from my hands from the force of the blow. My head crashed against the wall behind me, where Rust had been forcing me the whole fight. For a second, my eyes lit up with bright lights, and when my vision cleared I saw the tip of my brother’s spearhead resting lightly against my neck.

“Good technique,” a gravelly voice called out. Rust pulled the spear away from my neck, and I let out the breath that I had been holding. A third Gem Hound stood on the other side of the room, the mouth of a tunnel opening up behind him. He was wearing a vest of such a deep red color that it seemed almost to have been died with blood. He had well muscled arms, even for a Gem Hound, and a large collar that was covered with blood-red rubies with a golden jewel hanging down from it. His fur was a light gray color, like the walls of the cave, and if it hadn’t been for the vest it would have been difficult to keep track of where the stone ended and his body began. He stood even taller than Rust, by nearly another half head’s length, and his pupils were jet black slits in his green eyes. Packleader Graystone. Father.
There was no question as to who he had been complimenting.

“It was smart of you to strike when the light went out,” he continued, his voice the sound of stones being crushed against each other. Most Alpha Gem Hounds had voices that sounded like rocks grating against each other; indeed, for many females it was considered one of the most attractive features, the rockier the more pleasing. “But you use too many head strikes. It makes you easy to follow, easy to stop.” He looked at Rust, to make sure he got the message. “Again.”

Slowly, I picked myself up, pushing against the wall as I got to my feet. On my chest, I felt a bruise beginning to form, to match the other bruises all across my body. I even had a cut on my arm from when I had been too careless with a block, and my brother had gotten past my guard with the sharp end of his spear. I walked over to where my own spear still lay after having been knocked from my hands. I bent down to pick it up, wincing as the motion put stress on bruised areas. Using the spear as a staff, I forced myself to my feet. My brother already stood across from me, spear gripped tightly in his paws.

“Ready?” My father’s voice called out once more, just like the last hundred times. It didn’t mean anything, of course; Rust was always ready, and as for me, I knew that he didn’t care if I was ready or not; we both knew that I would never dare to claim that I wasn’t ready, and if I did I doubted he would acknowledge my dissent. Still, we went through the motions.

“Ready,” Rust replied, his voice sounding like rocks falling from the ceiling and smashing on the floor. It was a voice that, combined with his other traits, had already earned him the attention of numerous females, not that he noticed any of them.

“Ready,” I said, quietly. My voice was not the least bit rocky. Instead, it was smooth, smooth like the voice of the soft-hearted ponies. Or at least, that’s what I’d been told. I hadn’t actually seen any of the ponies for myself. Either way, it was most definitely not the voice of a proper Gem Hound. As could be expected, it was a source of embarrassment for myself, although certainly not the only one.

Father gestured with his paw to begin even as I spoke, and I could tell that he hadn’t listened to me at all. Suddenly, I felt a small flame of anger rise up in my chest. Each bout I would get clobbered, hit over and over again as Rust moved in on the attack, as I desperately tried to keep up with his blows. It occurred to me that if I attacked first, I would have the advantage of surprise on my side. If I struck quick enough and hard enough, I might be able to defeat Rust, and then I wouldn’t get another bruise to add to the collection.

In retrospect, it was perhaps not the best of plans. Even with surprise on my side, I knew rationally that it would be difficult for me to take down an opponent who was so much bigger than me, who had practically grown up with a spear in his hand. And even if I did beat him one round, he would be ready the next round, and he wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice. Still, at the time, I figured that just not getting hurt one time would mean it had been worth the effort.

As I felt the adrenaline surge in, the pain of the bruises seemed to fade away. The adrenaline was really the only way that I kept going, despite being sore in almost every part of my body. Each fight came with another burst of energy, letting me stay on my feet long enough to be knocked back to the ground by Rust.

“Begin!” my father barked out into the cave. Usually, Rust would wait until something occurred that drew my attention, or temporarily disadvantaged me, but I couldn’t afford to wait for that. I knew that if I waited too long my brother would be able to tell what I was planning on doing, and I would lose my only advantage. Instead, I had decided to instantly go on the attack.

As soon as my father stopped speaking, I was in motion, rushing towards the wall of dull red fur in front of me. I spun the spear around in my hand, holding it out in my right paw. As I reached Rust, I let my front paw come out in front of me, whipping the spear around towards his unguarded side. Wood clacked against wood as he brought up his own spear just in time, his eyes registering some surprise at my sudden move. It was an awkward block, one that would have made me lose my balance at the very least. He barely moved.

Quickly, I pulled back before making another strike, this one coming down on his head. My paws gripped the wooden shaft firmly as my blow struck with all the force I could muster, but Rust only grunted under his breath as he blocked the blow, barely moving as he stopped my spear. It wasn’t surprising, really, but I had hoped that he would at least been knocked back some.

I pulled my spear back, spinning it halfway around and then jabbing it with all my force at his now unprotected stomach. To my surprise, this time Rust didn’t even try and block it; instead, he leaned to the side and took a half step in the same direction. As a result, the end of the spear missed him by the tiniest of margins, even disturbing some of his fur with its passage, but it missed nonetheless. I suddenly found myself off-balance, not meeting the expected resistance of either his weapon or body.

I saw a tiny smirk appear on Rust’s face as he turned, his spearhead glinting as it sliced towards me. As it came towards me, I was able to calculate in a split second where it would land, even as I tried to pull my own spear up to block it. In a moment I realized that the razor sharp metal was coming directly towards my neck, and that I wouldn’t be able to stop the slice with my spear shaft before it connected with my throat. And if I couldn’t do that, then I was as good as dead.

Stones, I thought to myself, my anger suddenly replaced with cold fear. Desperately, I tried to find some way of avoiding the spear that now seemed to have slowed down, as if it was slicing through molasses or honey instead of air. It was clear that I wouldn’t be able to block it in time, and I was too off-balance to dodge it. The blade was closer now, and getting more so with every thought I was frantically thinking.

Finally, I fell back on blind instinct, subconsciously trying to push my brother away from me. Logically, I knew that it was pointless, but I hadn’t been thinking logically since the beginning of the fight. And so I pushed out away from myself with my mind.

Suddenly, somehow, I was able to feel the rubies around Rust’s neck. The blade was only a hair’s length from my neck when I slammed my mind’s might against the feeling of my brother’s collar. In response, I saw him stumble as all the gemstones around his neck simultaneously lit up with a red glow and shot directly away from me, pushing him backwards. Just in time, the spear jerked back as well, all but missing my neck, leaving nothing more than a scratch as it passed by.

I didn’t have time to think about what had just happened, though. The empty swing and the stumble had set Rust off-balance in turn, and I couldn’t afford to waste that opportunity. I took a step to settle myself, and then another step towards Rust as I brought my spear into his stomach, jamming the wooden end into his center of mass as I had meant to do previously. This time, my brother was unable to dodge, and the spear knocked him off his feet and onto the floor. I wasted no time in rushing towards him, twisting my spear around as I started to move, bringing it up above my head and orienting it so it was pointed directly at my brother’s unguarded body. I stopped in front of him, driving my spearhead down towards his neck. As it came closer, I checked its movement, slowing it so that it would stop just before it broke his skin.

Before my spear even touched a hair on his body, I felt an impact in my side as he swung his spear like a club, the wooden shaft hitting me with the force of a full-bodied tackle. I felt myself fly to the side, this time bracing myself for the collision before I hit the floor. I let my body grow limp as I twisted in midair, protecting my head and reducing some of the collision’s strength. Even as I fell, I knew that if I hadn’t checked my blow, the tip of my spear would have taken Rust in the throat before he hit me. And from the look I had seen in his eyes, I knew that he had reached the same conclusion.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the metal of my brother’s spear once again held against my throat, stained slightly by the blood that had started flowing from where he had just sliced into me.

For a moment, there was silence in the cave. Then Father’s voice broke the silence.

“You need to be ready for anything,” he said, and I knew that he was speaking to Rust, and not me. For a moment I had been hoping he would at least he would acknowledge my effort, but that hope quickly died. “Your attack from the ground was good, though,” he admitted, gesturing down at where I lay without actually looking at me. I felt my anger start to boil up again, but I got control of it this time. It wouldn’t do me any good; it had never done me any good.

“Your training is over for the day.” His voice rang out in the small cave. He turned away and limped away back down the tunnel leading away from the cave, holding a spear shaft as a cane. He had been injured on a raid before I’d been born.

As he left, Rust and I looked at each other, locking eyes. Slowly, my brother lifted his spear.

“You would have died a hundred times,” he told me, his voice soft, like pebbles being slowly ground against each other. He said it every time we fought, to remind me of his victories.

“And you once,” I told him, watching as his face twitched into an angry grimace for a second before regaining his stoical expression.

“You should know,” he began, his voice a raspy whisper, “that I only make mistakes once. Never again.” I involuntarily cringed, leaning back to move away from him. I could tell that he was furious about stumbling, and he wasn’t entire concerned that it had been a mistake on his part. With that he turned and started to walk away from me, back down the tunnel leading away from the cave.

I watched him go and let out a sigh of relief, although it held some sadness as well. At one point, Rust and I had been friends, but we’d started to separate as we had become older. Rust had started growing and had never really stopped, while I had barely grown at all, and we had started to go our separate ways. The final straw had come about when our father had made us train against each other. Over the course of time, our friendship had frayed before finally coming apart completely. Now, we were little more than enemies in the dueling room.

I wondered if, perhaps, Rust actually couldn’t stand me. What if the errant swing that nearly took my life hadn’t been such an errant thing, after all? Had my brother just tried to kill me? I didn’t think so, didn’t want to think so, but it was definitely a possibility that I had to consider. And if he had, why? He had never expressed anything beyond cold disdain for the past three years; why now? And what would be my father’s response if he had succeeded in the act.

Which led, of course, to the question of what had happened instead. How had I pushed Rust’s collar away? And how had I felt the rubies on the collar, anyway? What was going on here? Each question only led to more questions, but no answers.

The adrenaline had long since faded, and I winced as I pushed myself to my feet, using my spear to help push my tired body up. Using the shaft of the spear as a walking staff, I made my way across the room to the end of the cave, and slowly began to make my way down the long tunnel.

~&~

I turned my head to look around as I left the tunnel, and then winced as the cut on my neck protested the movement. I came out into a massive open space, the floor nearly a full body length beneath me. This was the central hub, a cave that served as an intersection between the various parts of the Pack. The cave itself had been massive even before our Pack had decided to settle in it. From the ceiling, gigantic stalactites hung down, threatening to crash down on the stalagmites that poked up from the ground beneath them. In places, the two structures touched, creating pillars that stretched from the ground to the roof.

Running off to the side was an underground river which briefly came out into the air of the hub before running back into the ground. The water was pure, filtering out impurities as it trickled down through the soil and coming out into the air of the hub perfectly drinkable, if slightly metallic.

All around the cave were various tunnel entrances, leading off to different parts of the Pack and, occasionally, to other Packs and even to other Tribes. The tunnels were, for the most part, large semicircles, with rounded walls and a flat floor. The tunnels had been carved out of the rock by claws as hard as diamonds, and they all had numerous slash marks on the walls to prove it. There were tunnels leading every which direction, some going up towards the surface above, others leading deeper into the ground, and shafts going out in what seemed like every direction possible.

For an outside observer, it looked completely chaotic, and in some ways it was. New tunnels were built whenever the need for them arose, and when that happened they would just be dug out of the ground in any direction they could find that didn’t already have a tunnel leading off that way. Fortunately, I had two advantages that kept me from being lost: first, I was a Gem Hound, and as a result had an excellent sense of direction, and second, I had lived in my Pack long enough that I could tell where each path led on sight.

As I emerged, I saw a group of three Beta males come up out of a tunnel traveling northeast that I knew led to one of the Beta barracks. They paused for a second, sniffing the air, ears twitching, before they walked across the room and climbed up to a second tunnel, this one much larger, running directly west, which led to the Pack’s central mines. I waited until they had all disappeared into the tunnel’s darkness before I climbed down to the floor of the hub, gripping the wall with claws as strong as diamonds.

On the floor, I looked over to two other tunnels. One led to the Alphas’ rooms, and on one paw I definitely wanted some solitude to think over what had happened during that last bout with Rust, and try to unravel at least some of the mystery. One the other paw, I knew that the other shaft led to the kitchens and I was certainly hungry. And there was another reason why I wanted to go to the kitchens.
My decision was abruptly decided for me by a feeling of sticky warmth on my chest. Looking down, I saw that blood was trickling down from my neck, pulling the fur into red spikes. It looked like Rust’s cut was deeper than it had first appeared, because it hadn’t scabbed over yet. That settled it; I was going to the kitchen.

I walked across the floor, ducking under a stalactite and walking around a stalagmite hanging down from the ceiling, before climbing up to the entrance of the kitchen tunnel. With a muffled grunt, I pulled myself up to the tunnel floor and then set off down towards the kitchen. It was obviously a well traveled path, the floor worn smooth by thousands of paws moving over it. The tunnel was lit by another lamp, this one burning much brighter than the one in the sparring cave. Of course, Betas can navigate in complete darkness, by feeling the walls or listening to echoes, but Alphas had more difficulty with the feat, and as long as we had the resources it was nice to have the light. Father had recently finished a trade with a smuggler, and he had been able to get enough wax candles to last us at least until the next one came along.

Of course, trading with Gem Hounds was illegal by pony law, but smuggling still occurred, especially among ponies who wanted to make a quick buck or who were looking for gemstones for some reason. I’m sure that the pony authorities could have stopped the smuggling, but it wouldn’t really hurt any of the Packs, and some of the Packs would almost certainly resort to raiding if the peddlers stopped coming completely; in fact, our Pack had and would resort to raiding pony villages and caravans if there was too long a gap between the smuggler’s visits. It wasn’t really a surprise that most of the ponies that could have stopped the trades tended to turn a blind eye.

I walked on past the lamp, the light fading behind me as I continued down the tunnel. Fortunately, the tunnel wasn’t
very long, and about a minute later I made it to the end, coming out in the room that the Pack used as a kitchen.

The room was massive, about half as wide as the central hub, but it was clearly artificial. The ceiling barely three times my own height; some of the taller Gem Hounds would probably be able to scrape it if they jumped. What it lacked in height, however, it more than made up for in width and length, and was the larger than any other room or artificial cave in our whole Pack.

What made it even more incredible was that every part of the room seemed to be bustling with action. Although it was technically called the kitchen, the room was involved in much more than simply preparing food for the Pack.
In the right most corner near me, I could see Betas melting down the wax we had received in our last trade and pouring it into candle molds. Closer to the wall came the cacophony of metal clashing against metal as Alpha blacksmiths pounded metal into spear heads and pieces of armor. The Gem Hounds working in the mines often came across large quantities of metal, and it was shaped into form by the hammers and anvils that clashed against each other at irregular intervals.

Despite having Gem in our name, many Alphas have a talent with metal. In fact, Gem Hounds are some of the most talented smiths on the whole continent. Especially in the Center, there were Gem Hounds that could create a perfect impression of a rose or a sword that was fine enough to cut through almost anything. Of course, in our Pack we didn’t have anyone that talented, although we did have one or two workers that were pretty close. Most times, the smugglers are as interested in our metal as our gemstones, if not more so.

In the back of the room, I could see the metallic glint of Beta armor and the gray vest of an Alpha Hound, being treated for injuries they had received during practice, or perhaps still healing from the raid a few weeks ago. To my left, all the way across the wall, were stores and tables just for the preparation of meals.

Rows of emeralds, lines of sapphires, and, of course, bins upon bins of rubies were visible, distinguished by their color, in the dull light of the room. Of course, next to the more exotic gemstones was a more plebian fare of marble, slate, and schist, to name a few. Gem Hounds have extraordinarily strong teeth, as strong as their claws, and as a result we can eat almost any type of stone, and what’s more, Gem Hounds stomachs are actually able to dissolve the stones and extract the nutrients the body needs from them. Of course, we can eat other foods as well, but stones are more commonly found underground.

All across the room was the white fabric of Beta workers’ shifts and blindfolds, the gray color of Alpha workers, and in the middle of it all, rushing between all of the different workers, a splash of blue color. It was that splash of color, or more accurately the Hound wearing the blue cloth, that was the real reason I had come. I walked out into the room, making my way towards where I had last seen the blue fabric, dodging around the Hounds that were constantly moving around the space as they worked. Eventually, I was able to weave my way to the blue wearing hound.

“Star!” I cried out, my voice carrying over the background noise just far enough for her to hear it. She turned, and I dodged around an Alpha that was walking past to reach her side. Star was my sister, and considered by most of the Alphas of the Pack a remarkably attractive Hound. Like Rust, she had red fur, although hers was a deeper red than his. On her brow, she had a white patch of fur shaped like a four pointed star, which was where her name came from. She was wearing a blue shift, starting at her shoulders and coming down to barely above her knees. She had a slender, tall build, standing a head taller than me, but she had never been cruel or condescending to me, like so many others were. To be completely honest, she was my first and only friend in our Pack.

“Hey, Silvie,” she replied, grinning at me. She knew I hated the nickname. Like most female Alphas, Star’s voice was deep and melodious, with a faint rasp like shifting sand.

I grinned at her as well. “So,” I said, gesturing to her blue dress, “How’s being Prima suiting you, sis?” She gave me a small groan in response, and we both started to laugh. Suddenly, Rust’s cut decided to remind we why I had come to the kitchen with a wave of pain. I brought my hands up to my throat.

Star’s laugh died down as well as she noticed the cut for the first time. “Oh no, did Rust cut you again?” Her tone was understandably frustrated; in training bouts, neither Gem Hound was supposed to seriously hurt the other. Unfortunately, mistakes happen, and sometimes things a little bit more than mistakes happened as well. I wondered if I should tell her what had really occurred, but I couldn’t mention Rust’s attempt to possibly kill me without also telling her why he hadn’t succeeded. I was worried that if I tried to tell her that, she would think I was crazy. So instead, I just nodded.

Star sighed in response. “Hold on. I’m going to go get some bandages for that cut.”

Turning, she made her way towards the back of the cave, where I knew there was what functioned as a medical area if some Hound got cut or hurt. As she passed through the crowd, everybody in her path moved out of the way, moving aside for the Prima.

I feel like I should explain more about how Gem Hound society works. Most of the ponies that I’ve met seem to think that the Gem Hounds are just one species. I can assure you, that is not the truth. The term “Gem Hound” technically refers to two different species: Alphas and Betas. They’re related, of course, but the two are quite different. In fact, we aren’t even similar enough to have offspring together.

Betas are large, hulking creatures, and every part of their bodies is muscled. As a result, they are incredibly strong, and can rip a large boulder to shreds in seconds. They aren’t very intelligent, and are barely bright enough to talk. In fact, a good portion of them aren’t even able to do that, although they can all understand orders, as long as they are simple enough.

Another less important but still noteworthy difference between Alphas and Betas is in their eyes. Betas are for all intents and purposes blind, their eyes rendered useless by thousands of years of living underground. They can see vague blurs if they are really close to something, but they can’t even rely on their vision to stop themselves from tripping over the ground in front of them. This makes their sight pretty much worthless, and as a result, they’ve taken to wearing blindfolds or armor over their eyes to keep them from being distracted by vague sights, relying instead on sound, smell, and touch to navigate.

Beta females tend to be found in the kitchen cave, while Beta males tend to be found in a Pack’s guard. Of course, there is some crossing over, with a few Beta males working on tending wounded or preparing food, and more than a few Beta females standing in the armor of the guard, but for the most part the Betas don’t stray over the gender line much. The only place where Beta females and males can be found in equal supply is in the mines, where intuition of where a gemstone will be matters much more than strength or precision.

Alphas, on the other paw, are in general tall and lean (although they are still incredibly strong by pony standards), and they are much more intelligent than their Beta cousins. The average Alpha is at about the same intelligence as the average pony. Most Alphas put little stock in learning, though, which leads many ponies to think that Gem Hounds as a whole are a rather stupid race.

Gem Hound Packs are led by two Alphas called the Packleader and the Prima. The Packleader and his family are all supposed to wear red, to represent their dominance. As you probably guessed, my father is the Packleader of our Pack, and he commands one of the largest packs in the Ruby Tribe dominance.

My sister Star is the Prima of the pack, the leader of the females and the director of what’s known as domestic affairs. The Prima and her family are supposed to wear blue, unless she’s related to the Packleader, in which case only the Prima wears the blue dress. Generally, though, the Packleader and the Prima are related, either by mating or by direct family ties. It’s rare to see anyone other than the Prima herself wearing the blue cloth.

“Hey, Silver,” A voice called out. I was broken out of my thoughts by Star’s return, carrying a roll of bandage in her right paw. “You’re zoning out again.”

She handed me the bandage roll and I began to unwrap it, trying to estimate how much I would need. After pulling out a few paw lengths of bandage I ripped it away from the rest of the roll and then began to wrap it around my neck. It went around about three times, as I had hoped, before I ran out and had to tie it off. The blood started to stain the cloth, and then slowed.

“You never answered my question,” I said, as I finished. “How is it being Prima?” Star had only acquired the position of Prima a few months ago, when the last Prima, and elderly female, had stepped down from the job.

“It’s fine, I guess,” she said, actually considering the question this time. “There’s a lot of work to be done, for sure, but it’s not all bad.” As she spoke, a small smile came over her face. I knew that that was an understatement. Star was practically born leading; even when we were younger, when we had played together, Star had been the one directing our activities. I knew that our Father was grooming Rust to take over as Packleader when he grew older, but despite all of Rust’s skill with a spear, he’d never had the same ease when it came to other Hounds as Star had always possessed. Thinking of which…

“Do you know where Rust went?” I asked Star, although I doubted she would know. He rarely set paw in the Kitchen, preferring to have somebody set a few jewels outside his room instead.

“Sorry, I don’t,” Star replied. “He’s probably out exploring one of the unused tunnels.” As Rust had grown apart from us, he had become increasingly fascinated with the tunnels that hadn’t been used for centuries, often exploring them for hours on end. Sometimes, it almost felt like he was searching for something, although nobody had any idea what it was.

I shook my head. Part of me really did hate him for all the times he would attack me, over and over again during training, at our father’s command. Another part of me, though, still loved him, or at least still loved the pup who used to play with me, who had grown up to be Rust. The emotions were so conflicting that I tended to follow his lead and avoid him just as he avoided me.

Suddenly, a yelp of pain pierced the room’s noise. Everyone in the room turned to look at the left side of the room, where a Beta was holding her paw and howling with pain. Underneath her was a pool of wax, slowly solidifying, and a bucket had been carelessly tossed aside. I winced, although I was grateful that it hadn’t been molten iron, which would have done a lot worse than just burn hair or skin.

Star turned to me with an expression that I knew, one of being caught between what she wanted to do and what she had to. “Father has a guest, and I think he’s going to want you to serve the food,” she said quickly, alternating between looking at me and at the situation that was quickly unfolding on the other side of the room. “Sorry, but I…”

“It’s fine,” I told her. “Go.” I wanted to ask her more about the guest, but I knew she had to help out with the spill. She turned and walked towards the Beta as I turned and started walking back towards the tunnel entrance. Behind me, I could hear her comforting the Beta, and I turned around for a second to see Star leading her over to the back of the room.

My sister had always been good at helping out when we were pups, and it had come as no surprise to anyone but herself when she had been given the position of Prima. But because she was so eager to help, I had found myself spending less and less time with her as her duties pulled her away, and spending more and more time by myself. I didn’t blame her though; she was born to lead, just as Rust had been born to fight. What I didn’t know was what I had been born to do.

The pack only really needed three kinds of dogs: warriors, workers, and leaders. But although I had acquired some skill with a spear, I still couldn’t stand up to Rust for more than a minute’s time. I wasn’t strong enough to work in the mines, and I had no talent with metal. I couldn’t do very much for the injured outside of applying bandages, so that was out as well. And as for leading, I barely had the respect of one Hound, and that was my own sister. I had always been the useless Hound, the Runt of the litter. That’s an actual title, by the way- Runt. The Hound who’s significantly smaller than his brothers and sisters, who in the past and in many Packs today would be killed to keep the Pack healthy as a whole.

I made my way out of the kitchen tunnel, coming out into the center hub. Climbing down from the tunnel’s entrance, I made my way across the room to the river that ran through the cave. Setting my spear down next to me, I splashed water over my chest, getting the blood out of the fur there. The river ran swiftly, carrying the blood off of me and back to the ground, leaving only pure water for the next hound.

Part of the problem was the way I thought. Unlike most Gem Hounds, who were mainly concerned with things like glory for the pack and for themselves, I thought about things like water purification, or worse, what it was like outside. To Gem Hounds, the outside had one purpose, and that was for resources that couldn’t be mined from the earth, either traded by the smugglers or taken on a raid.

“Hey, Runt!” A gravelly, if slightly high pitched, voice from behind shattered the silence.
Stones, I thought, breathing out through my teeth. The role of Packleader always instilled jealousy in the Hearts of Gem Hounds. Nobody would dare to insult the Packleader himself, but his family could easily become the subject of resentment. In our case, Rust was too strong to be picked on, and no one would dare to tease Star; she just didn’t have anything to be teased about, and most of the male Alphas were in love with her anyways. A Runt son, though, who was different, who was strange, who the Packleader barely acknowledged- that was a different story indeed. As Rust had drifted apart and Star had become busier, I’d found myself dealing more and more with Hounds who were angry with or jealous of our family. Of course, there were also some who liked to pick on me because they were strong and I was weak. Sometimes Hounds are mean just to be mean.

“Mutt! I’m talking to you!” I growled despite myself. I don’t like getting angry, and in my experience it never helps. It had gotten the better of me when I had been fighting Rust, and that had almost ended my life. So this time, I tried to keep my anger in check this time. Not that they were helping.

“Mutt!” the voice called again. I hated that name, mutt. A mix, a disgraceful combination of two different tribes, or even species. It was generic insult among Gem Hounds, insinuating that they had mixed blood and were therefore less pure or valuable. The hounds behind me were probably just throwing insults, but the word struck a particularly strong chord with me.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep my tone civil. I grabbed my spear as I started to move, swinging it around to help push myself up. As I turned, I was able to see the Hounds coats. They weren’t ones that I was familiar with; a russet coated Alpha, short for Gem Hound standards although still taller than me, with a slightly dim looking brown furred Alpha behind him, almost as muscled as a beta.

As I moved, I saw the two recoil away from me. I could tell that they weren’t used to this kind of thing. Clearly, they hadn’t seen the spear when they had approached me, and although there were quite a few Hounds who could beat me in single combat, these two did not fall into that group. I decided to press my advantage.

“Excuse me, I’m afraid you two are in my way,” I said in my best polite but menacing tone, which was admittedly not very menacing. At the same time, I brought my spear up, holding it out in front of me. I wasn’t planning on using it: not against these two, anyway. Fortunately, they didn’t know that. The two moved back, and I walked deliberately past them, entering the network of tunnels referred to as the Alpha Barracks, where all the Alphas lived and slept. The tunnel I was aiming for was in the center, larger than the others near it and, as in every Pack, it was reserved for the Packleader and his family.

As soon as I entered the tunnel and was out of view of my two would-be harassers, I broke into a run. I didn’t think they would follow me, but it was better not to push my luck. When I had put some distance between myself and them, I slowed down. Already the cut on my neck had started to bleed through the cloth, and I didn’t want to make it any worse than it already was.

This tunnel was shorter than most, and it quickly opened up some. As it did so, eight side passages came into view, four on each side. The first four were for my father, Rust, Star, and myself. One of the advantages to being the Packleader’s son was that I got my own sleeping quarters. Most other Alphas had to share their rooms with at least two or three other Hounds, and Betas were packed in ten to a room. Having my own room where I couldn’t be teased or bothered meant a lot to me.

I walked into the second passage on the left, pushing open a metal door that stood in the center of it. It swung open, revealing a much smaller cave that had a single lamp and a stone bed carved out of the wall. That was quite normal for a Gem Hound, and every sleeping room in the entire Pack was outfitted much the same way. What was unusual was the small wooden table with a single drawer that stood right next to the bed. It was what the smuggler had called a nightstand, and it was my second most precious possession. I walked over to the nightstand and pulled the drawer open. There, sitting in the carved wood, was my single most precious possession, as out of place as it looked in any Gem Hound’s possession. In the drawer, its cover an emerald green, lay a book.

Author's Note:

Hello everybody! I want to thank you all for giving this story a chance. This isn't my first story, but it is my first attempt to create a long, complex storyline. I'd appreciate any and all feedback, although I would appreciate constructive criticism more than anything else. Feel free to point out grammatical mistakes as well. If you downvote, please tell me why in the comments below, or PM me if you aren't comfortable with that.
I plan on updating this somewhere between once every week and once every two weeks. I already have the next chapter written, and am currently working on the third, but I would like to keep a one chapter buffer in there for last minute edits and unforseen circumstances. Don't worry, it will pick up- the first few chapters are mainly exposition, although I'm going to try to mix it up with some action as well. Just bear with it.
I think that's everything. I hope you enjoy this, and I'll see you all next week. Bye!