The Truth About the Night

[*~Freedom~*]

The Truth About The Night
By S. Hof


The Beginning

In the beginning, things were much different than they are today. But that’s to be expected. Over time, things change. The only thing constant in our world is change, a concept that few manage to grasp, and others like it, during their time among the living. At one point, though, we do understand. It’s a brief period of time, one we don’t even remember. We understand as children; we comprehend that which is inconceivable to adults when we’re infants, retaining a bit of the truth in our toddler years. Before we can fully comprehend the words of our mothers, our minds are the prime example of open-minded thinking. In our first few days, we hold no preferences, no favorites, and our love is unconditional. It is then that the Creators choose to reveal the secrets by way of dreams. The childish fancies adults often dismiss are in reality the basic principles that shape our world. At the beginning of our lives, we understand the truth of the beginning of time.

As we grow and bias seeps into our minds, as is inevitable, this brilliance fades and the child matures into an average adult—in most cases. But a select few keep a grasp on the knowledge. Some is lost, but bits and pieces remain throughout the years and combining it with the knowledge they acquire as they grow and learn. We look to them for guidance, thinking them to have understood that which is more complicated for most to comprehend. They are the leaders of civilization; the wise men, leading a scientific revolution when in reality, they know little more than the average infant.

I first understood this reasoning shortly after I was Changed. In my eighteen years, I’d been taught one thing; the Lycans were to be feared and hated. Only that and the promise of my parents’ company was constant throughout my own life. I suppose that when I was only a child, I understood the truth. But like most, I fell into the ways that were set before me and it lay forgotten.

My father had been a wealthy, well-respected man. I was his only child, and he and my mother were protective of me. I never knew why, but it had been difficult for them to have a child at all, and they were determined that I would be safe at all times. Our home sat on top of a large hill overlooking the village I was born to. My father owned it and the surrounding forest. I was never permitted to leave anywhere on my own and never associated with others my own age. As a result, I admit, I became rather proud and anti-social. After a life of isolation, I never took to people afterwards. I much preferred the company of my thoughts; the voices of others did nothing but add noise.

I spent much of my time strolling through my father’s forest. Sometimes a servant accompanied me, but I usually had my mother or father beside me. They didn’t keep me isolated merely for my protection, but also so that we might become close as a family. My father, busy man that he was, took time out of his schedule each day to accompany me for a long stroll, normally in the evening as the sun was setting. They were my only friends, my parents. That was, perhaps, what made their loss so difficult that I find myself aching for them even now.

It was a warm night. The stars were bright and peaceful to look at and the muggy air felt good against the skin. It was easy to sleep during weather such as this. There had been a few Lycan sightings, leading to the events that took place that night. It was a different time; now the hunts are conducted discretely rather than the chaotic system, or lack thereof, that was used back then. When the hunters came, they behaved rashly, appearing in the dead of night while the village and my family slept soundly.

Although my memory of that night and the days that followed is hazy, I remember waking to the sounds of screams. Through my window I could see the cottages below had been set aflame, igniting the sky. The hunters cut down those who might have been Lycans, and because there was no way to tell the difference between a Lycan and a Human just by looking at them, they killed everyone for the sake of a few.

A few servants appeared in my bedroom and beckoned me into one of the many hidden passageways my father had had built for a quick escape in times of emergency, and I was ushered through the tunnel to it’s outlet in the forest. There, I was abandoned. No longer concerned with my safety and only that of their own, the servants fled. I don’t really blame them. It was a panicked moment, and I was eighteen years of age, after all. I would have left myself to my own devices had I been in their position.

At the time, however, I found myself very much alone for the first time of my life. I didn’t know where my parents were, or even if were alive. I could hear the commotion coming from the village and my home, however, and I could hear the hunters crashing through the forest, searching for those hiding, and so I ran.

In time I became lost. I had long since strayed off the paths I knew so well and I found myself wandering the vast forest for three days, all hope of escape as lost as I had become. Although I had not seen them die, I knew in my heart that my parents were gone. It was on the third day that I accepted this thought. I gave up hope, then, sitting on a boulder I cam across late in the afternoon. I was tired, hungry, and desperately thirsty. I knew that I was soon to follow after my parents. At first, I was frightened by the idea of death. But the more I thought about it, the better it seemed now that my parents were gone and I was alone in the world, having no other family.

I sat on the rock for hours, first sorting through my fears, and then after I had accepted that I was going to die, wondering what lay beyond life. It wasn’t something I had ever thought about before, and even in my weakened state, fascinated me.

Night had fallen when I heard him. A single twig snapping was my only warning before he slipped from the shadows, graceful and elegant despite his size, his bright yellow eyes locking in place with my own. He was a Lycan in his Werewolf form, his fur as black as the night that engulfed us. The only noticeable difference between a Werewolf and regular wolf was their size, one of the few facts I had known about the creatures at the time. This Werewolf would have reached my shoulder had he stood beside me on four legs. Now, however, he sat and watched me, his eyes unblinking.

When I overcame my initial shock of encountering a Lycan, I realized that this would be how I died. Not from starvation, as I had assumed, but from an attack by the very beast that had been the cause of the entire ordeal. I had done my crying earlier, and now I stared him in the eye and accepted my fate. “Please,” I whispered. “Please get it over with quickly. I have nothing more to live for, and gladly accept my death as it is upon me.” As I finished speaking, I stood, my fists clenched at my side. I would not resist.

The Werewolf stared at me for a moment longer, and then with a sudden movement, bounded towards me and lunged. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the massive body collide with mine and I crumbled, broken but alive. There was a pause and then a horrible pain as he sank his teeth into my shoulder. As I felt myself fading, I heard his voice whisper comfortingly in my ear, and then I knew nothing.

“Welcome to your new beginning.”

[*~Freedom~*]

There shouldn't be any spelling mistakes, but if there are, please tell me.

Chapter One
Medin

The process of changing from Human to Lycan is a painful one. Medin brewed a special concoction so that I slept through most of it, forcing me to drink it the few instances where I awoke. The transformation took fourteen days to complete, and I remember waking late in the afternoon, confused and unsure of myself. My body felt strange, as if it wasn’t my own. I felt a foreign sensation streaming through my veins, a surge of power and strength that had not been there before.

Medin sat in a chair beside my bed, watching me with concern as I sat up, my body aching of pains I was unsure how I had acquired. He was a small man, Medin, a full head shorter than I when standing. His graying hair and the occasional wrinkle on his face gave him a sort of fatherly appearance, and I felt comfortable under his gentle gaze.

“How do you feel?” He wanted to know. I grimaced and he laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “I expected that.” He commented, handing me a glass of water. I eagerly accepted and drank it quickly, my parched throat burning with gratitude. He took the glass and set it aside again, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“What exactly happened?” I asked in a small voice after a moment had passed. I vaguely remembered the Werewolf and was astounded I was still alive. “Surely you didn’t fight the beast off on your own?” Medin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“No, I didn’t.” He admitted calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. I didn’t reply, waiting for further explanation despite the fact that he was obviously hesitant about continuing. “It would have been difficult to do so,” He said, choosing his words carefully. “How does one go about fighting off oneself?” I blinked, processing this and felt my blood run cold, my heart quicken.

“You…You’re a Lycan?” I murmured, feeling as if I’d just stepped into a dream. He nodded and reached out to touch my arm, but I recoiled. “You…You bit me.” He nodded again, but made no move towards me this time.

“I heard the attack.” He said quietly. “I’d been looking for someone to bite for quite some time already. Life gets lonely after a while. When the hunters came to your village, I thought the hysteria might provide a cover so that I might slip in and find a child. The hunters are so clumsy that I would have easily avoided detection, along with my new prodigy. But by the time I arrived, there was no one left living. I was on my way back when I first caught your scent. I tracked you, and when I saw you sitting on the boulder, I guessed that you were from that same village. It’s a miracle you escaped with your life.

“You were the perfect selection.” He continued. “With your family gone, there would be no one to look for you, and everyone would assume you had died with the rest of them. And so I bit you and took you back here, to my home.” As he finished, my head had begun to feel light and the room began to spin. It became hard to breath, and I was only slightly aware of Medin leaping from his chair. When I felt his fingers against my skin, however, I felt a wave of anger wash over me and a scream erupted from my throat. I kicked and clawed at him, tearing everything I could get my hands on as he held me down. In a moment I realized that the scratches were disappearing faster than I could make them, which only angered me further. To know that I wasn’t even hurting him, this creature that had turned me into a monster, was more than I found I could stand.

In the end, I wore myself out and lay in the bed, my chest heaving and my face sticky with sweat. Medin took a step back, eyeing me warily. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away briskly, pulling the door closed behind him.

I cried for a while, but soon enough that became tiring and my chest began to ache. My shoulders hurt from where Medin had pressed down when I had attacked him, but it wouldn’t last long, I knew. Lycans were quick healers, after all.

Hesitantly, I stood and crossed the room and tried to turn the handle. As I had assumed, he had locked it. I realized I must have scared him, remembering the look in his eyes, and suddenly felt ashamed. While he most certainly deserved anything I had done and more, my mother would have been appalled had she seen my behavior.

Curious despite myself, I turned and looked in the mirror, examining my reflection carefully. Medin had combed the twigs and leaves from my hair and washed the dirt from my hands and face. My dressing gown was dirty and torn; although I was pleased to see he had had the decency to wait until I woke to change myself. I looked exactly the same as I had before, even if my eyes were a little red and puffy. But I certainly didn’t look evil.

I jumped as a light, hesitant knock sounded across the room. “There’s a bit of clothing inside the wardrobe for you.” I heard him murmur, obviously still reeling from my tantrum. “I’m unlocking the door. After you’re changed, perhaps you would like to come down and join me for a bit of supper. We have much to discuss.” I listened to the lock clicked and his retreating footsteps fade away before opening the wardrobe. I searched through the clothes several times before stepping back, frustrated. There were no skirts to be found. Apparently, he’d been expecting to come across a boy. Finally selecting a pair of black trousers and a grey shirt, I paced back and forth, trying to get used to the feel of the strange clothing before taking a breath and stepping into the hallway.

In comparison to my plain bedroom, the house itself was quite grand. Intricate carvings decorated the doorframes of no less than twelve rooms and the second floor curved into an oval shape and was nothing more than a circular hallway. One could see down to the first floor from any point on the second by peering over the railing that guarded the gaping hole in the center, opening only for the staircase and lighted by a large chandelier that held dozens of candles.

Downstairs, I stepped into a large entrance hall. The walls were covered in portraits of a variety of characters, most of which were among the strangest I had ever seen. One displayed an elegantly dressed woman with an abnormally long neck, three times longer than my own. Beside her portrait was that of the shortest, rounded little man who seemed to have no neck at all, composed only of his round face and round body. Another held a lady and who I assumed to be her husband, also richly garbed, each sporting a peculiar skin color that resembled that of my mother after eating a bit of spoiled meat. I wondered if this unhappy couple had shared the same experience.

“Wondrous, aren’t they?” I turned to see Medin gazing up at the portraits, entirely enchanted.

“Who are they?” I asked, moving a bit closer to inspect what seemed to be an owl in a suit. I could only assume it was a man with large eyes and an obscenely hairy body.

“People I’ve met throughout my life.” He replied with a shrug. “I’ve lived a very long time, and you meet some interesting characters along the way. When I meet someone worth remembering, I ask them to pose for a portrait for me, and then I give them a place on my wall.”

“I didn’t think they were real.” I breathed. They all seemed so abnormal that it was absurd to think that they’d actually lived.

“Oh, yes. Very real indeed. They’re all dead now, I’d imagine. Humans have very short lives, and I’ve yet to meet another Lycan or Vampire I’ve liked enough to remember. No, these were truly remarkable people. People who should never be forgotten.”

“What’s remarkable about her?” I asked, pointing to a very normal, plain young woman who couldn’t have been much older than me at the time the portrait had been made. “She doesn’t stick out at all.” And it was true. She had dull eyes and thin, wispy brown hair. She smiled slightly, almost as though she knew a secret and was determined to keep it to herself.

“Things aren’t always as they appear to be, my dear girl.” Medin replied, his voice very quiet as he reached out to touch the portrait. “She was a very remarkable woman, probably my favorite of them all.” He waved his arm dramatically, his eyes twinkling again in delight. “She enchanted everyone she met with her charming character. Her laugh could brighten the darkest of rooms, and her voice lift one from the lowest of spirits. She may not be the most attractive woman, but I found myself quite taken with her.”

“What happened to her?” I was almost afraid to ask, but I couldn’t resist. Medin sighed heavily and turned away, instead examining a portrait of a family of alarmingly small people.

“I told her what I was, and she fled in terror. I only just escaped the mob of townspeople that arrived at my door that night.” I stared at him, but he refused to look at me.

“I’m sorry.” I said finally. He shrugged again and turned towards me, smiling brightly.

“I wasn’t particularly surprised.” He said. “It’s our curse to be hated by those who aren’t like us. I really don’t know what I was expecting when I told her. Perhaps I just wanted to tell someone after so many years that I didn’t bother with the consequences. Life can get quite lonely sometimes.”

“A curse I’m now forced to share.” I said bitterly. He nodded sadly.

“Yes, it’s true. I robbed you of your humanity and turned you into that which you were taught to fear and born to hate. I wanted to apologize, by the way, for what I said upstairs about how it was lucky your family is dead. It was incredibly insensitive of me to bring up the subject when you were mourning not only the loss of your family but also that of your world. And while I’m apologizing, I suppose I should apologize for that as well. Sorry.” I nodded, slightly taken aback. He extended his hand, smiling warmly. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. My name is Medin Conason.” I hesitated. How could I accept this creature? As he had said, he had stolen my entire world. But then, not much of it was left to begin with. I looked at the woman he remembered so fondly, who had fetched the city’s mob when he had shared his secret with her. Medin had saved me when he could have killed me, and now he was offering me a home when I had none. Though only slightly assured, I grasped his hand and felt him relax at my touch.

“My name is Evania.” I told him. He pumped my arm enthusiastically.

“What a charming name.” He bubbled. “It sounds a little Vampiric, but no matter. Medin isn’t exactly a name that screams Lycan, but that’s probably a good thing.” He was talking fast, overjoyed that I wasn’t clawing his face anymore. “Now, I expect you’re hungry so let’s retire to the dining room and I’ll explain to you some of the rules that come with being one of us.”

In the months that followed, Medin became a sort of father figure to me. Though I often cried myself to sleep as I remembered my own parents and how my transformation must have horrified them, my days were happy for the most part. He continued where my father had left off in my education, but added additional lessons that applied to my new lifestyle more than the traditional lessons did. Medin is still the oldest Lycan I’ve met to this day, nearing his five-hundredth year when he Changed me. He was born into the life rather than bitten as I had been and so knew more than most about survival.

Medin preferred living near Humans rather than in the forests like most Lycans. He was forced to move often because the Humans would become suspicious when they noticed he never appeared to age, but Medin had come into a handsome amount of money and earned more all the time, so it was really no trouble. Still, for our own protection, each full moon we were chained in separate rooms of the house to prevent any hunting we might do.

My first full moon was the hardest, as Medin had predicted it would be. As the light touched me through a barred window in the basement, I immediately felt as though my skin had been set on fire. I rolled on the floor, screaming in agony as my flesh split open and melted away like a snake shedding its skin, replaced by grey-white fur. I could feel my bones altering their shapes and locations, my insides shifting. I doubt I’ve ever felt a worse pain in all my life than I did that night.

Three years after being Changed, I gained the ability to change at will as young Lycans do, though at first I was hesitant to try, the torture of the last full moon fresh in my mind. Medin took me hunting with him then, teaching me how to track and remain silent when I moved. At first I had trouble making myself kill the animals we stalked, but in time I became accustomed to the feeling one gets when one kills, although I never really learned to enjoy it. Medin didn’t particularly care for it either, but, as he said, it was better than killing a Human and having the entire countryside at our front door.

As the years passed, I settled into my new way of life, although I longed for my parents each day. Though I smiled and laughed when I was with Medin, I often left on my own for long walks like the ones I had taken with my father. Then, I felt much like I did when I had wandered the forest those last three days. I missed them, and as much as I’d come to love Medin, I resented him. When we had first met, I had been so ready to die. I had wanted to see my parents again more than anything else in the world, and instead I’d been given a life that would last me for centuries. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger every time he explained how strong I would be when I reached this age, or what ability I would gain when I had lived for so many years or so. Each time I looked in a mirror and saw the same ageless face peering back at me, not a single wrinkle or grey hair strand among brown to be seen, I felt frustrated. I could change my appearance manually, of course, cutting my hair into whatever fashion I liked. But my face and body would be that of an eighteen year old forever.

Medin could appreciate my want to age in appearance. Those born Lycans can freeze their appearance at whatever age they like. He had had every intention of freezing himself in the body of a young man until he met the young woman in the portrait, whom he later told me was named Adena. He decided he wanted to age with her, they being the same age when they met. He was thirty when he told her what he was, and by then he had decided he liked the distinguished look that came with age, deciding to finally freeze himself at fifty-five.

And so he sympathized when I complained about my childish appearance, emphasizing how he wished there was more he could do. I didn’t believe him, though. And when I turned fifty-five myself, it was too much for me to bear to look at myself in the mirror.

By that time, I really had come to think of Medin as my second father. Technically, if a Lycan turned you, they did become your parent in a sense. It was their responsibility to teach you the ways, as Medin had done with me, though most simply bit and ran. But as Medin had often commented, my family had left a hole in my heart that I simply needed to fill. I explained this to him, and when he had no more left to teach, I told him it was time for me to leave.

Medin had always expected me to go, although he had always assumed I would wait until I was considered an adult in Lycan terms. I was sixty-five years old, counting my first eighteen years, when I asked for his blessing. He gave it, however sadly, along with a rather large satchel of gold he had saved for me. I left early in the morning, telling him I would see him soon.

But as I walked away, I knew that we were both thinking the same thing. Because of his constant moving, I would never know where to find him again. In truth, I would probably never see my father again. I was losing my family again, but this time I somehow doubted I would find another. I had inherited Medin’s dislike for packs, and in a world where the only place a Lycan was accepted was with their own kind, I had no place where I truly belonged. Not anymore.


***

My major problem when I write is I tend to add too much dialogue so I tried to concentrate on describing more than speaking here. Did I succeed?

[*~Freedom~*]

I didn't bother to italicize the words I had italicized on Word...I felt lazy. Anyway, there are probably a bunch of mistakes littered throughout this bit, so pooh. I'm too lazy to edit as well.

Chapter Two
Chaos

When I left Medin, I had no idea what it was I was hoping to find. I stopped keeping track of the years and lost all sense of time, somehow comforted not knowing just how old I was. The days blended together and I could only guess at the time of the year by the changing of the seasons.

I spent the first several years in the many forests I came upon, not quite ready to venture out into the open. I stayed in my Wolf form almost all the time, finding it easier to face the elements that way rather than as myself. Several times I came upon a pack and I stayed with each for a few days, but no longer. I could sense the pity they felt no matter how hard they tried to mask it; there is nothing more pathetic in the Lycan world than a lone wolf and I couldn’t bear the tone of their voices when they spoke to me, as if I was a child who couldn’t understand much of anything. But as the years passed and I matured out of Lycan adolescence, their pity began to subside into disgust. While still a child, they sneered, I should have settled down with a good pack. Apparently, a child was worthy of sympathy, but an adult who still walked the path alone only deserved their contempt and scorn. Invitations to stay the night became less frequent, replaced by jeering and the occasional skirmish. I found myself avoiding the scent Lycans gave off more than that of a Human, and even began visiting cities and towns.

More than once, I brushed against the silver shavings in their walls or was careless in my transformations and was forced to flee to the safety of the trees again, but I learned quickly, growing more cautious and suspicious than I could have thought one could be. The years of constant fights for survival, whether with Lycans or Humans, hardened me and turned me colder than I ever had been before. I stayed at the inns I came to, always giving a false name and ignoring any and all questions directed to me after giving the required information. Despite my ever-increasing dislike for others, I did love staying villages. Medin had always made it a point to purchase an estate outside the cities and villages where as I liked nothing more than to wake up to the sounds of the city. It reminded me of my life before and it was the closest I ever came to feeling normal.

As I grew older, I watched the war progress and tensions between the races heighten. I had met a few Vampires by that time. Some were interesting to talk to, but all frightened me a bit. Something about them, the way they spoke or even held themselves sent shivers down my spine. I could sense their strength, their power, and it made me uneasy. Many, though, couldn’t be bothered with a Lycan. They recognized me for what I was, of course, and assured me that a Lycan was too much trouble to fight whereas a Human went down nice and easy. I took their word for it, having never attacked a Human myself out of hunger, unless one had had the misfortune of wandering a forest on the night of a full moon in which case I could hardly be held responsible. Once or twice I encountered one of the many Vampires that enjoyed taking a Lycan just as much as a Human, and had they been a bit more experienced in fighting, I probably wouldn’t have survived. They were much stronger than Humans and built differently than Lycans, and so I wasn’t quite sure just how to get away either time. To this day I don’t know how I managed.

I also watched the Humans develop. While they had always had Lycan hunts, as I knew better than most, they eventually formed a society whose only purpose was to hunt Lycans and Vampires to extinction. It was the highest honor a child could bestow upon their parents to be accepted into the Brotherhood, a name they continued to use even after they allowed women to join. They joined when they reached the age of ten, and the only way out was death after that. At first the society was pathetic. The weapons were primitive and would cripple at worst, never kill. But as their science and magic evolved, so did their weapons and knowledge of their enemies. First came the silver chains that would release only after the wielder commanded it to, which was a crushing blow to the Lycan effort. Hundreds died writhing in the relentless grip of the chains, their screams making even some of the more advanced members of the Brotherhood cringe. I heard a few myself, and decided I would avoid those at any cost. It was the sound of pure agony, a pain I’m sure could never be matched.

Most recently, though, they’ve developed a special arrow whose tip would never leave the body it entered, a threat to both Lycans and Vampires. Lycans can survive if the silver is taken out immediately, but if it remains lodged inside, we have no chance. The same with Vampires and holy water. All a Human would have to do is dip the arrow head in a bowl of holy water, shoot a Vampire, and the victim is as good as dead. Once the holy water is in their blood, it stays there. Luckily, the arrows were expensive and in short supply. Only the highest ranking in the Brotherhood were issued them, and they were only stationed in the Human capital, a place any Lycan or Vampire with half a brain avoided.

I’d done a good job of avoiding the Brotherhood in my time away from Medin, both out of caution as well as out of fear of what I would do should I be confronted. Though the ones who had raided my home were long since dead, the hate I felt towards them I now directed to the newer generations, and the last thing I needed was to attract attention to myself.

The full moon was still a week away, and I reached the village just as the sun was setting. Already the streets were deserted. Everyone was settled comfortably in their homes, sitting down for supper or preparing to go to sleep. I myself was awake, having gotten into the habit of sleeping only a few hours a day. I strolled through the streets hardly paying attention to where I was, vaguely acknowledging the fact that I would more than likely end up going through them again having passed the inn by.

The night was warm, but a cool breeze had settled over the town and I felt comfortable as I roamed, every now and then catching a person glancing curiously out their window to get a look at the mysterious night-walker. I was accustomed to that sort of thing; Humans nowadays didn’t walk the streets at night but it had never gotten me into trouble before. They simply couldn’t be bothered to suspect I was a threat because I liked to walk in the dark. Except for one person, that is.

I turned a corner and stopped short to prevent myself from colliding with him. He himself stood where he was, evidently waiting for me. I fixed him with a cold gaze, annoyed and he returned my stare, his grey eyes locked with my own. It was a trick I’d picked up over the years, locking gazes. I’m not sure how I had acquired it, but many found themselves unable to break eye contact when I chose to hold them. He, however, didn’t seem to be fighting it, which simply irritated me even more. I folded my arms across my chest and mirrored his stance as the silence between us lengthened.

Without moving my eyes, I took him in, noticing he was actually quite young, appearing no older than twenty-four. His hair was dominantly golden flecked with different shades of brown that probably resulted from the use of magic, an inconsistency that made my obsessive compulsive nature boil. His clothing was for the most part the same dull shade of black, though his shirt was brown, and frayed to the point where the slightest tug would probably tear it. Still, I could see the muscles underneath his jacket, even though his shoulders were scrawny. He looked as if he was a teenage boy still experiencing puberty, his body mismatched and simply not his own. For the most part, he was a very plain looking man and I was unimpressed until a small brown head appeared on one shoulder and a bushy tail on the other. The appearance of the squirrel startled me and I blinked. The spell was broken and his voice cut through the silence like a dagger made of ice.

“What are you doing wandering the streets at this hour?” He shot, obviously trying to lock my gaze again. I relaxed my shoulders still looking at the squirrel. I’d never seen one so tame before.

“Why are you inquiring?” I returned, my tone matching his although my heart wasn’t quite in it. I wasn’t in the mood to fight tonight having fallen under the spell of a calm spring evening.

“Why are you inquiring as to why I am inquiring?” I forced back a smile. He was good at this, and for once I wasn’t eager to end it quickly, curious as to how far he would allow it to go.

“Perhaps I have something to hide.” I replied, allowing the ice in my voice to melt away. The sincerity I spoke with caught him by surprise, I could tell, though it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“And perhaps I had reason to believe that you did.” His voice had softened now, too, and I found myself enjoying this. It wasn’t often that I came across someone who could play my games to my satisfaction.

“My, that is curious. To think that one is hiding something simply because one is enjoying a moonlight stroll.” I purred. “What was it about my stroll that first alerted you of my dark intentions?”

“If I had to choose?” I nodded. “It would be the fact that you are a girl.” My eyes flashed dangerously but he took no notice. “This are dangerous times, lass. Though you are still a child, you are old enough to know that wandering the streets after sunset is a good way to get yourself killed.”

“Do you mean to suggest that I am incapable of survival simply because I am a woman?” I asked, the coldness in my voice returning.

“I am merely suggesting that given the state of things, neither a girl nor a boy should be outside their homes after the sun has gone down.” I arched my brow.

“The state of things?” I repeated, glancing around at the darkened streets, taking in the silence and the shadows. I nodded. “Yes, you’re quite right. Things are rather unstable aren’t they? How lucky I am that you showed up. Had you not, that spider there would have charged should I have looked at it the wrong way.” He scowled, evidently not enjoying the exchange as much as I.

“I do believe that I answered your question.” He said. “It is only polite that you do the same.”

“Ah, but you’ve asked two questions now. Why should I answer two when I only asked you one?” I could see he was getting annoyed.

“The amount of questions you asked was entirely up to you. Since no limit was ever set, you really cannot object to answering mine.” I smiled now and nodded.

“Well played. I’ll answer then because you’re absolutely right. I really have already answered you, you know. I’m simply out for a moonlight stroll. I only just got into town and since I’m not yet tired, I decided to simply walk until I became so.” I answered truthfully. He nodded.

“It’s plain to see that you aren’t lying, and yet I don’t think that you’re telling the whole truth.” I laughed.

“My you are good. Would I be right in guessing you’re a member of the Brotherhood?” He tensed and the squirrel’s fur bristled. It was actually kind of cute.

“I am.” He said. “And would I be right in guessing you’re a Lycan?” I was surprised he had asked the question so directly.

“I was born Human, same as you.” I replied coyly. Something changed in his eyes then and I felt my blood boil as they filled with sympathy. He had guessed, I knew, that my indirect answer to his direct question meant that he was correct in assuming what I was, but now knew that I was one of the Lost, a Human Changed into a Lycan. He pitied me, and that was something I could not stand. I was just beginning to channel a bit of Lycan strength into myself to make my escape when an explosion was set off somewhere nearby. All at once the darkened sky was lit and screams erupted from all around. The city around me was replaced with that of my own village for a moment but I shook my head and looked around, my plan forgotten.

“What was that?” I asked breathlessly, not really expecting an answer. As a member of the Brotherhood, he would already have been gone, but when I turned, he was still there, his face twisted in such a rage that it actually frightened me a bit.

“As if you don’t know!” he yelled, taking a step towards me. Still shocked, I retreated, watching fearfully as he reached into his pocket. “It figures,” he continued. “The moment I begin to feel sorry for you, your pals attack! You had me fooled, I admit. That was a nice plan, sending one to distract the Brotherhood while the others got ready.” By now the chain was out and exposed. I’d never seen one up close. It actually illuminated a silver glow and was even painful to look at, though that was probably more psychological than anything else.

Despite my panic, I became angry. I’d never intentionally harmed a Human, and even though I really couldn’t expect him to know that, the insult burned me. I channeled the Lycan power now, willing it to go faster, just enough to give me speed. “I had nothing to do with this.” I snapped. “Shouldn’t you be helping them?”

“Not before I take care of you. The others will kill your friends.” His voice was dripping with hate, and the look in his eyes was one I had never gotten used to seeing. Murderous, completely devoted to killing me. Finally my connection was strong enough and without hesitation I leapt with all my strength to the nearest roof. Just as my outstretched fingers touched it, however, I felt the chain wrap against my ankle. The pain was worse than I ever could have imagined and as the metal bit into my skin I lost what little hold I had on the ledge and fell to the ground below. I didn’t scream but instead clawed at the dirt, twisting and fighting even though I knew there was nothing I could do that would loosen its grip. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. After all of my precautions I’d let my guard down for the sake of a word game with a Brother. My stupidity was inconceivable, and if he hadn’t already been in the process of it, I would have punished myself.

Suddenly, the chain slackened and retracted, but I had no strength left and couldn’t even sit myself up. I lay in the dirt, panting and trying to ignore the smell of burning flesh that filled the air—my flesh. He knelt beside me, his eyes searching mine.

“You’re not putting up much of a fight.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes searching my own curiously. “Are you trying to be brave, accepting your fate for the sake of your own satisfaction? It’s an interesting change of pace, something I don’t see very often, but I must say I like it. Still, I would have preferred catching a stronger Lycan. They fetch a better price.”

“You have no idea how strong I am.” I returned. My breath came in short, wheezy rasps but with second he stalled, the smallest shred of strength flowed back into me.

“A stronger Lycan would have fled before I guessed what he was.” The man replied, shaking his head.

“Perhaps a smarter Lycan, but not a stronger one.” I whimpered as he pressed a silver coin against my hand.

“If you’re so strong then why don’t you fight?” He sneered. When I didn’t answer, he pressed the coin more heavily.

“Because if I have to die, I would rather die with dignity!” I finally cried. “No matter how hard I fight I know that chain won’t let go and so there’s no need of looking like a fool. The sound of my screams will not be the last thing I hear!” He released the pressure and a let my head fall into the dirt, sweat running into my eyes until they stung. His face twisted in disgust.

“You have no dignity! You snuck around this village so as to distract me and feed your pack.”

“I have no pack.” I returned through gritted teeth. “And if you are the one with dignity, why are you wasting your time on me instead of helping to stop the attack? You may not be the only member of the Brotherhood here, but people are still dying, people you could help save!” He stared at me, confused.

“Why do you insist I go help? Are you really that selfish you would rather your own kind die instead of you?”

“For a member of the Brotherhood, you really are stupid!” I snapped, my patience gone. “I’m a lone wolf, aren’t I? That’s about as low as I can be. I’m little more than filth in their eyes. More of them have tried to kill me simply for their amusement than Humans have for fear of their lives! So as far as I’m concerned, yes, those stupid enough to attack this village can die. But aside from that, I don’t want to see this village go down in flames with little to no survivors, so finish me off and go help your brothers and sisters!” He stared at me for a moment longer, and then all at once was gone. I waited for the burn of his chain, but it never came. After a few more minutes had passed, I regained a bit of strength and crawled into the shadows of an alley, propping myself up against the side of a building. I strengthened the connection with the Lycan in me to the point where my sight was enhanced and looked over my ankle. I shuddered at the sight of it; it didn’t even resemble an ankle any more. My boot had been completely burned away and my skin was blackened and twisted, blood streaming from various places.

I wouldn’t be able to put any weight on it for days, and I knew I couldn’t expect to walk on it without support for at least a few weeks. It may not seem like much, but in a world where healing was normally over night, it seemed like an eternity away. That was, assuming, the Brother didn’t come back to finish me off or I wasn’t killed by one of the Lycans or villagers before the morning even arrived.

My eyesight began to return to normal and I felt myself weakening, tired from the effort it required to see in the dark along with the strength it had taken to crawl to my current location. Even after I had fully severed the connection, I felt myself weakening further. I struggled to remain conscious but everything was quickly moving out of focus, and in another moment I slumped against the wall and closed my eyes with a sigh, wondering if it was finally my time to die.