Description
In a world filled with unknown, humans fear everything - including the vampire covens of the mountains, and the mysterious and misunderstood lycans and werewolves of the forests and swamps. In the fantastical world of Zxy’Araei, alone and against the odds, one woman is at war with a darkness that has spread vastly throughout the land - a cult that threatens to destroy every nation be it werewolf, vampire, human, or other. She must find it within herself to conquer doubt, to control fear, and to gain the trust of beasts among men to stop them. Her journey could cost her everything, and not just her life.
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Title Page
LYCANTIS
Rage of Wolves
Malaena Medford
Illustrated by the Author
The Cloaked Shadows
I
As a thick fog settled on the marshes of Dolsom, the eerie silence was disturbed only by the occasional sound of a toad or insect. The various creatures within the murky waters retreated as though sensing the ominous nature of the world above. Shadows passed through the pungent swamps as nighttime threw its dark blanket across them. The only light was the faint glow of the moon and stars through the mist. Cloaked intruders pounded through mud and muck toward Melimus Nel. The town wasn’t far, but their travel had been tedious and their breathing was labored.
Dark, looming forms ahead let them know they had entered the dangerous territory of the beasts among men. They slid along the bases of the looming buildings, thick pillars keeping the foundations from touching the water‑logged earth. They reached a small house near the center of town.
One man leapt onto the porch, making the boards groan.
He froze.
After a moment of listening for anyone who might have heard, he crept toward the door. He inched forward, sweat pouring down his face, body trembling with fear. His hand moved closer and closer to the door handle…
The Cloaked Shadows
“Run Josom! Make haste!” one of the cloaked men cried out as they all fled through the swamps, terrified of what surrounded them in furious packs.
Josom held a bundle under his arm in a sling. He was running as if there was an avalanche behind him.
Out of nowhere, a monstrous, hairy beast dropped down from above and knocked one of the men down. It ripped into his flesh, blood spurting and coating its claws and thick fur. Josom ran even faster after witnessing his comrade being slaughtered. A second beast leapt out of the mucky water and slashed at another man’s chest.
Josom stopped abruptly when he heard his brother cry out in pain. “Tened!” he hollered into the mist, too late to help, too blind in the darkness to even see.
A very large, snarling beast barreled toward him, a signal to run again and leave his brother’s mangled body behind. He ran into the forest, dodging branches and leaping over small boulders. He neared his horse‑like veresti and rushed toward a conveniently placed ramp. With all his strength he vaulted onto the saddle, nearly missed, and then he kicked its sides feverishly. The animal bolted toward the desert, swiftly moving through the dense trees and over streams. The vicious beasts were close behind, snarling wildly, and his veresti was terrified; it whined and screeched its dismay.
They reached a deep ravine. Josom pulled on the reins and stopped at the edge, nearly plunging into it. He looked around, but there appeared to be absolutely no way out. The sound of paws galloping from behind made his heart skip beats. Three of the other cloaked men rode up beside him, some covered in claw marks and patches of blood.
One man pulled a sachet from the pack on his leg. He withdrew a smooth white pebble and threw it over the edge of the ravine while chanting, “Alda Os Erenes!”
A bridge of rocks and massive boulders formed as they were pulled from the walls and from below to the small stone he threw toward the center. The bridge became flattened as much as the chunks of granite could twist and turn on top, leaving rocks floating and levitating around the ones on the underside of the bridge. They rode across it as the beasts burst through the woods to the edge of the chasm. The hulking monsters reached the bridge, the leader reaching the center first. Their roars and snarls could be heard from far away, roars of pure fury and utter hatred.
The warlock turned and held out his hand. “Ene Ibrijal!” he shouted, causing the stone he had thrown to fly into his hand and the bridge to collapse from his side to the other.
The leading beast turned, almost sliding off the edge. He bolted toward the other side, paws mashing the rocks slipping out from under him. The others hurried to the edge of the ravine, away from the falling rocks. The leader fell as his support left him; rocks tumbled down into the chasm, dragging him with them into the deep darkness below.
The warlock sat upon his steed, leering at the brutes and giving a snort of amusement. They paced on the other side and shook with a deep hatred and boiling fury. They all howled, one after the other, letting the world know their anger…their hatred for the men. Turning, the warlock galloped away toward the woods, leaving the fuming beasts to watch as one of their prized possessions left them.
~
“Milavenai! Hurry up with Pip, you can spoil him when you return,” Milavenai’s mother called from across the yard. “Your father is waiting in the town hall for you!” She went back into the house.
Milavenai grinned. “Well, Pip, let’s be off. Father has something for us and we ought not to let him down.”
She set the brush down and stroked Pip’s silver mane, an odd color for a veresti to have with a mouse‑and‑amber colored body – quite rare indeed. He also had strikingly large, beautiful orange pupils with a thick line of blue encircling them; the rest of the eye was bronze. He was truly a handsome animal. She mounted the saddle, turning him to go to the town hall. She hadn’t the slightest idea what to expect, but she was excited.
Many farms were passed by as they galloped down the road, Pip’s paws thudding heavily upon the fertile soil worn away by passing travelers and by the villagers. They lived far from the heart of town just on the outskirts of Piascas Dulu, being the top distributors of the peria fruit - small greenish‑red fig‑shaped fruits - which were a staple of the village. They came into the main square and she slowed their pace as they neared a large building. It was adorned with wolf engravings on the front entrance.
She dismounted and patted Pip. “Head to the stalls. I put some peria in your trough.”
Pip’s ears pricked up and he trotted toward the stalls. It was late dusk, so she knew it would be dark soon and Pip would have to be her night eyes. Milavenai approached the front doors, taking in a deep breath, and then she pushed them open. Everyone at the long tables turned to see who came in, and then cheered as they saw her. One man, drunk as sin, held up his mug and spilled his mead all over his head and back. They all laughed and teased him as Milavenai made her way to the back of the hall where a man stood, adorned in grey furs and brown leather hunting gear. He smiled from ear to ear, giving her a fatherly embrace.
“We’ve been waiting for you for hours,” he exclaimed. “Have you been pampering Pip this whole time? No matter, you are here.” He led her to a seat beside his own at the Chieftain’s table at the back of the room, and then cleared his throat in announcement. “Brothers and sisters! Rest yourselves and take your seats,” he yelled over the revelry of the crowd. “We have reason for a banquet, so settle down and listen before we feast!”
Everyone standing headed to the tables and sat at their plates. The noise in the hall rose slightly as everyone became excited to hear what the news was. The buzzing of murmurs and mention of Milavenai could be heard as the topic spread from table to table. Urdes, a man at the center of the head table, turned to Milavenai’s father and nodded. He then stood as her father took his seat and the hall went silent.
“For the past few years, Phiuri has been training an apprentice to help our people fight the intruders slaughtering us one by one. And now this apprentice is ready to become a member of the Elite Blood Claw,” he stated as he held his hand out toward Milavenai’s father, Phiuri, who waved at the crowd as they drummed their pointy‑bottomed mugs on the tables. He rose out of his seat as Urdes sat and watched.
“For ages we relied on mostly male strength and brawn to protect us and female intellect and reasoning to guide us,” Phiuri said with a hint of pride starting to sound in his voice. “That image and tradition is now in the past. We will see both in the entirety of the way our lives run, neither will be separated. Today I award my daughter, my only child, with the right to become a Blood Wolf, an honorary member of the Elite Blood Claw. Together, the Blood Wolves will stave off our enemies and keep our people safe!”
The roar from the hall could be heard from far away; it shook the foundation of the building and made the trees tremble. Milavenai felt euphoric, everything was surreal and the sound became almost distant… It was too distant. She felt odd, as if something was horribly wrong. Her head felt light as she heard a ghostly cry coming from everywhere at once. A burning deep inside her arose, feeling like an enraged animal trying to claw its way out of her core. Phiuri looked at her, his smile fading as he saw her eyes become darkened, the pupils spreading all the way to her eyelids.
“ATTACK!! Everyone to arms!!” Phiuri bellowed, causing a slight panic.
Everyone rushed for the weapons lining the entrance to defend the town.
Milavenai drooped, then lifted her head and shook the feeling off. Her eyes were normal once more, but the whites were bloodshot. She looked around as her father helped her up.
“What is happening?” she asked.
They ran for her bow and his halberd as he said, “You sensed them again, it is getting stronger…I fear something terrible is about to happen.”
As they reached the open air, they could smell fire. In the darkness they could see a house not far from them was ablaze, and muffled screaming could be heard from inside. Phiuri bolted toward it, moving with the speed of an enraged wolf. He rammed through the doors with great strength, weakening the foundation.
“Father!” Milavenai shouted fearfully.
The house tilted, nearly collapsing onto the ground. From inside the door a figure slowly made its way out of the house. Phiuri carried a woman on one shoulder and two small children on the other. The woman was unconscious…or so Milavenai hoped. She ran to her father’s side as he set them gently on the ground. Arktus - a man from the hall - hurried over to the woman.
“Charysa! Oh, please wake up!” he said as he shook her. Then he placed his ear upon her bosom, listening for a heartbeat. He shook her anxiously, his gasping becoming hyperventilation as he sought a response from his beloved. The children woke as he did this. “Don’t die,” he sobbed, “oh, please Charysa, no!”
The woman sputtered, and then started coughing and hacking violently. He embraced her and his children, bawling and thanking the heavens.
Milavenai spotted movement in the trees.
“Over there!” she shouted to the other hunters.
The Blood Wolves maneuvered into the trees, Milavenai taking the left with a small group behind her. They heard yelling, a thud, and then a man cried out in pain. The team she was with split off toward the yells, but she stayed behind to look for any others. She heard a cracking to her left and darted off deeper into the trees, running stealthily, making almost no sound. She stopped to listen. There was the sound of stifled heavy breathing. She slowly moved toward it, treading carefully… Her first manhunt. The breathing finally stopped, but she continued toward where it had been coming from. Any movement would reveal the intruder’s location.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a man slashed at her face with a small dagger. She moved in time to receive only a small gouge on her chin. The man swung again, cutting through the cloth portion on her leather clothes and slicing her shoulder. She drew her own dagger and lashed out, lacerating the man’s arm and robes. He lunged, planting his blade into her shoulder.
The world around her went darker, everything seemed ethereal. She couldn’t black out now – he would kill her! Flashes of reality passed before her eyes, claws reaching for the robed man, then hands pummeling his face, then his chest. Blood coated her face in patches; it almost felt good to have it dripping down her skin.
She felt arms pulling her off the man as voices called her name. A hand from the group pulled the dagger from her shoulder and she cried out in pain. Slowly, her sight returned to normal, the fury felt as though it was seeping out. Her father held her by her arms, calming her with his words. Someone was staunching the blood from the wound.
“Mila, calm down. Come now, Honey Bee,” he cooed at his daughter. “That’s it…there, there.”
She blinked. Her breathing was strained and her shoulder was throbbing with pain. A slow heat enveloped it as it started to heal over - she healed faster than most people in the village. Everyone standing around them was looking at her in awe. The light of the moon illuminated the clearing like a bright beacon.
“What happened?” she managed to gasp out.
Phiuri looked around at the others, slightly confused.
“You don’t remember anything?” he asked. When she shook her head, he explained, “You were enraged…you broke half of the bones in his body and tore most of his skin to shreds.”
The look in his eyes was that of a man who had just seen a dragon eat a man in front of him. She had done damage most of the Blood Wolves could only hope to cause in their lives, but it had almost cost her her own. The other Wolves gathered the man up in a cloak and Phiuri lifted Milavenai to her feet. They walked toward the gathering hall as the rest of the clan worked to put the fire out with water from the well.
As they got the man into the hall, Milavenai spotted the other intruder hog‑tied and hanging from the rafters near the fire. Two fierce‑looking men stood on either side, watching him with utter hatred but slight amusement. The hunters with the other intruder set the torn man upon the table closest to his partner.
“What have you done to him?!” the man on the rafters shouted. “Jaed!”
The torn up assassin on the table, Jaed, moaned, indicating he heard but couldn’t move.
Phiuri slowly walked up to the one tied to the rafters, and then promptly threw a punch into his stomach that swung him back and forth. He stopped the man, who was now gasping for air, looked him in the eyes, and spat in his face.
He spoke with a deep, menacing tone, never raising his voice from a low growl to let the man know of his anger. “You almost succeeded in murdering my daughter, my only child. And to burn people alive is not human…have you no conscience? No loved ones?” The assassin looked at each of the men around him, gasping and swallowing the salty sweat around his lips. Phiuri grabbed his face, forcing him to look into his eyes, and spoke with an even more angry tone. “You are at the end of your master’s reign…because you chose to follow him you chose to end your own life.” Phiuri let him go, then walked over to the accomplice and continued, “As for your friend here, he should never have harmed my daughter. I didn’t have to do anything to return the pain…and I should let her have you as another prey animal to practice her fury upon.”
The man shook with terror. Phiuri had a way with his voice, making him sound more menacing than a lion going for a kill. There was an amulet around the dying man’s neck, which he took, examining it closely. He strode over to the pillar the man on the rafters was close to and swung a small knife deep into the upper portion, hanging the symbol on the handle.
“Anyone found with this symbol ANYWHERE on their person or garments will have a horrid, painful death, and there will be no mercy for them!” Phiuri announced to the Blood Wolves, all of whom now stood in the hall.
A roar came from the Blood Wolves and all who had been roused from the noise and the fire. The man on the rafters quaked with fear as his own blood ran down his body. His eyes were wide with fear of the leering crowd as they roared in the night. It was like being amongst a pack of rabid dogs or – like a pack of angry wolves.
Phiuri turned to the man. “Your friend will have the benefit of an early death, but you–” he thought a moment, then grinned menacingly and snarled, “you will be eaten alive beside the main fire pit. You would make a wonderful meal for my daughter’s kadakas.”
The man moaned and whimpered. He had a poison he desperately wished was not in his cloak on a table so far away from his reach. Phiuri noticed his glances toward the garment, and retrieved it to examine. Everyone became quiet as he frisked the cloak full length to find a small vial filled with a yellowish liquid.
“Poison, I assume?” Phiuri chuckled. “A coward’s way out.” He held it up for the crowd to see, gaining chortles and growling from the Hall. “You should not supply your enemies with a substance which can be used against you – it will make a fine component for our weapons when we hunt for your people.”
There were snickers and grins in the crowd. He threw the vial to a man with vials and pouches hanging from his outfit.
“Our apothecary will find your poison’s making and create more. Your stupidity is your weakness when you try to keep a people from living life without fear,” he growled.
He nodded at the apothecary, who nodded back and proceeded out of the hall. Phiuri motioned to the two guards who cut the lashings from the rafters, carrying the man out of the hall. He put his arm around Milavenai and helped her to the healer’s house. When they stepped inside they saw Arktus and Charysa at the other end of the large room. Arktus was applying a greenish‑black paste to her burns.
Eh’Atris - the village healer - hurried over to Milavenai. “What hap– My goodness! Your shoulder young lady! Who would do such a thing?!” he asked vehemently.
Phiuri calmed him. “They came again, the men in the dark burnt orange robes. They didn’t kill anyone. Little claws here managed to let one of them know how we feel about them.”
Eh’Atris huffed and shook his head. “Monsters…all of them monsters in my opinion.” He grinned a bit. “I saw you all carrying them around. Was wondering what on earth had happened. Come now, let’s see about this.”
He led them over to a bed with a small table next to it, where Milavenai gladly sat down and removed the outer clothing on her top. She was wearing a brown sleeveless shirt underneath, and there was a horrible slice and puncture on her right shoulder.
He clicked his tongue as he examined the wounds. “Oh, this won’t do… Your pretty skin doesn’t need awful marks like that. Only in real battle should we ever have trophies, not to vermin harassing innocents.” He dabbed at it with a cloth covered in a concoction of strong, stinging pine water and other herbs. “Just as I thought, it’s already healing over,” he remarked. He had always been amused with her outlandish healing, but had become accustomed to it. “I don’t think you will need any more help, just remember to stretch it every day after the wound is closed so it heals in the proper place,” he instructed as he stood and patted her head.
Two men walked in with the apparently dead intruder, setting him down on the examination table used for the deceased. One of them beckoned the healer over.
“Come look at our new decoration, he died a few seconds ago,” he said.
Eh’Atris walked over to the corpse to have a look. He gasped, “What– This– These are claw marks…”
He looked at Milavenai. “What did you use to attack him, a lion?” She smiled at him slightly but was confused herself. “Well, not the first time this has happened in our history. Everyone should remember Amatarusk Bear Claw… He left claw marks on all of his victims.” He looked at her over his square spectacles - smoothed glass panels held by metal wires, his own invention - and said, “You may very well be just like him, the time is right for the–”
“Eh’Atris! Not now, this is not the time for that,” Urdes shouted from behind the old healer.
The healer jumped, then nodded at him and turned to help three others in the room, one looked like he had bruised his fist from punching the other intruder too hard.
Urdes looked at Milavenai curiously, and then he smiled and left the building. The two men who had brought the corpse in followed him. Eh’Atris turned to look at the door, and then walked over to his stove. He put some powder in a cup then added a white liquid, then took it to Milavenai.
“Drink this, it will help you rest,” he said.
She drank the steaming liquid, which tasted sweet and strong. The room darkened, swirling into nothingness as her eyes glazed over. Phiuri caught her as she fell forward, then he set her on the bed properly and laid her head on the pillow.
All was dark.
* * *
The Chosen
II
Milavenai woke in a grassy field; there was a breeze blowing in the velvety bluish trees. She stood, hearing children laughing and a woman speaking. Over in the distance she saw a young she‑elf surrounded by a small group of elven children. Milavenai slowly made her way toward the circle, feeling every blade of soft grass beneath her feet. She neared the she‑elf, glancing around for a moment.
<Welcome young one,> the elf said without speaking aloud. <You are meant for great things, terrible fates, a sinister plot that could unwind the very fabric of time and space.>
“What? How? I’m a nobody…I can’t do anything special–” Milavenai started.
The elf continued after raising her hand and smiling, <That is why we chose you. No one would ever suspect anyone without significance, and you are safe as long as you remain a ‘nobody’ in the eyes of the Order.> She lowered her head, then spoke again, an expression of utmost horror upon her face as she looked up again. <You must endure sorrow which you cannot compare, hatred you have never felt, a fury inside must be awakened. If you do not accept these things, you will lose everything you hold dear, and all will be lost to the tyranny of those who wish to have all power in the universe.>
Milavenai stood there, her mouth slightly open in wonder. “What is a ‘universe’? And what is the ‘Order’?”
<The universe is everything, all the stars, worlds, and your world as well. If the Order controls it, everything will be as they want it, as they see the world to be. As for the Order, you will know in time,> the she‑elf said as the world around seemed to tense up and pull away from Milavenai. Everything twisted and contorted away, finally into nothing.
Everything went dark again.
~
As Milavenai awoke, a sense of complete rest and rejuvenation enveloped her. Her father was humming something and Eh’Atris was talking to a patient. Was it a dream? She thought to herself. It felt so real, yet almost like it never happened. The Order…what was that about? An image of the men in robes flashed through her mind. But, weren’t they just bandits? Her head was swimming with questions, but yielded no answers back.
“Phiuri, shouldn’t you be out with the hunting party? The leaders of those men chased away most of the game and you should be looking for more in the western regions,” Eh’Atris stated calmly.
Phiuri let out a sigh. “I’m staying where I’m needed. She is my only child, Elsys and I haven’t been able to have any more.”
Eh’Atris hummed in thought, then extrapolated, “Perhaps she is stronger than you think? You need to start letting reality course in and look at the signs.” He paused a moment. “I know Urdes would be angry for me to mention it, but it is coming true…there is not a doubt in my mind about it. We need to be more careful in our dealings with fate. We are pushing our luck hunting when it is strictly forbidden, as it is.”
“Yes, I know,” Phiuri said. “I just want to make sure all that was said can happen. If I lose her then what I saw will not become a reality and then what? We will all be finished.” They both remained quiet for some time, then Phiuri stood. “I will hunt with the others to feed the village, she will need to rest until we can send her to Lunas Cainus…but in time, my friend. I will go first to ensure a safe passage.”
The thought swam through her mind.
Lunas Cainus…
~
The setup for Milavenai’s initiation was moved to the lake that evening, as it had been so violently interrupted. A grand feast was prepared around a bonfire, and the intruder who was still alive was chained to a stake in the ground with only his undergarments to cover his loins. His comrade was beside him, reeking of rotting flesh. A band played music as the members of the Elite Blood Claw set everything up.
Phiuri walked through the arrangement with Milavenai, examining the food and décor. Skulls and various bones of animals she had hunted were displayed around the camp. He eyed the robed man malevolently. The man had been placed in the one spot where everyone could watch as Koor and Tanix, Milavenai’s kadakas, ripped them apart.
Milavenai walked ahead of her father, straight to Pip, who was tied near her seat. He was trying to get to the various fruits and vegetables on the table. She retrieved some peria and placed them in front of him, and he happily munched away at them.
Phiuri walked up to Pip and patted him. “Mila, I need to speak with Urdes. Just stay here, I will be announcing something as soon as those men are nothing but bone.”
“Yes, Father,” she said.
She was not in any mood to sit, so she helped with the arrangement. She also wondered what her father was going to announce.
Arktus walked up to her and expressed gratuitously, “Your father is truly the bravest man here… You, in my opinion, must be the bravest and strongest young woman in the village.”
Milavenai blushed, but felt good about being complimented so.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Those men will never stop raiding, but we will never fall by their hand nor anyone else’s. What my father is going to do to them is not cruelty, it is justice that fits them perfectly.”
He smiled and helped her heave a pole with a banner into a pre‑made slot in the ground.
The celebration was finally underway as two men brought out a huge roasted beast on a thick stave of oak wood. The smell reached everyone’s nostrils as they passed, causing a wave of delighted comments from the villagers. They set it near the bonfire and walked away as Phiuri walked in front of it.
“Everyone, please listen,” he said, and the noise died down. “Last night the festivities in the hall were delayed by those men.” He pointed to the man and his dead partner. “And so, we will enjoy tonight in its full bounty with a kadaka‑driven execution. Let the celebration commence!”
An enormous man - wearing a thick leather harness, bracers adorned with claws and teeth, a horned helm, loincloth trousers, and horn‑spiked boots - led two large, spiked hyena‑like animals into the middle of the area, where the assassin stood petrified with terror. The animals wagged their tails happily and their tongues lopped to the sides as they panted and looked around at the celebrants. He shook so badly that he could hardly stand at all, and he tried to get the stake out of the ground. The kadaka trainer released Milavenai’s pets to the men. Everyone watched as they were both devoured, the live one screaming out in sheer pain and terror.
As the screaming stopped with a violent crunch, the people started getting up to serve themselves from the vast amounts of food on the tables. Milavenai immediately bee‑lined to the rare meats and grabbed a small beast leg and ribs. She was so hungry she felt as though she could eat a whole deer. She grabbed more peria and a vine of smaller, grape‑like fruits. The vegetable section didn’t look too bad. There were blue potato things and red carrots cooked with odd‑looking whole bean pods. She helped herself to a heaping plate and sat down next to Pip. He was gorging on raw fruits and vegetables that people were giving him on passing.
The meal was excellent and everyone was enjoying themselves thoroughly. The drunk from the night before was drunk yet again and telling outlandish tales from his former days. Some children were causing trouble at the edge of the lake, making Milavenai laugh as their parents tried to keep them in line.
The bonfire was surrounded by the musicians and two bards Milavenai had grown up around, and the crowd of villagers sang with them. She trotted over and joined in, laughing at how silly some of the songs were, and thinking of how nice it felt to be part of her village.
Nearing the end of the night, Phiuri caught everyone’s attention again. “Everybody, I have an announcement to make,” he said.
As all of the villagers ceased and gave him their attention; they realized he was gravely serious.
Clearing his throat he said, “The last few raids on our small town have caused us to lose three of our own only in the last two weeks, may they rest with peace in their hearts. We need to take action, but this will not be any simple fight. The Ancients left us with a prophecy, one which became a legend and to some a myth. We are all descendants of Ayr, though we do not speak the name so we may protect ourselves.” Milavenai was very confused, however listened intently as Phiuri continued, “We have been discovered somehow, no one here can deny this. The men who are attacking us were mentioned in the scrolls and tablets translated for us, even the mark they bear on their backs and pendants. A messenger must go with a pure blood to the island of Lunas Cainus. There our fate will be decided–”
One man interrupted, “But…that’s where the lycans are! They would kill us all if they knew we sent our own people there!”
Phiuri held up his hands. “Yes, there are lycans, but they are not as dreadful and vicious as said in myths. They are people like us, villagers with homes and families, with loved ones and beliefs. But they can change themselves into a terrible beast form that humans fear because it is different. What you all have been kept from knowing – what Urdes’ family line was sworn to keep from you – is that we are connected to them as a family, we as the Ayrs came from Lunas Cainus by the blood of our predecessors.”
There was an uprising in the level of noise with some escalating hostility.
With a snotty and sarcastic tone, a member of the crowd piped up, “Few of us are actually ‘pure‑bloods’, why can’t you go alone? You are always treated as the strongest and bravest–”
“They are the strongest and bravest!” Arktus shouted at the man. “You just don’t want to be picked out as the messenger because you are a coward!”
A large number of people started yelling and arguing, and Urdes stood up. “That is enough! You will all calm yourselves!” The entire crowd went silent at his command. “What Phiuri is saying is true, it is all in writing and none of it is hearsay. We will be sending Phiuri with someone who volunteers and is skilled with a weapon. Now, everyone will help clean up and prepare. This journey is necessary and determines the fate of our people…no one will turn a cold shoulder or treat it as if it were a bedtime story. Prepare for tomorrow. Good night, everyone.”
The crowd dispersed, cleaning as they went. Scraps of leftover food were collected up for larders and bones tossed to Koor and Tanix. The night passed with the cleanup and restlessness, many fearful because of Phiuri’s announcement. The town went to sleep, waiting for tomorrow and the preparation for the reunion with their past.
~
The next day came, too soon for many as they heard the cock’s crow. Milavenai sat up as Wiggul, the family boar‑cock, sang his painfully irritating song to wake them. Phiuri knocked at her bedroom door as she slipped her boots on.
“Come in,” she said, exhaustedly.
Phiuri entered and sat next to her, looking at her with admiration.
“Those eyes…never had I expected such a blue. I will be leaving at sunset. It will give me and Arktus a chance to avoid any confrontations,” he said, seemingly reluctant to even leave, “I will miss you terribly, my honey bee. You and your mother are the world to me, just take care of her and the village.”
Milavenai flung herself into his arms, sobbing, “I know it has to be like this, but isn’t there any other way?”
Phiuri hugged her tightly. “No, you know there isn’t. I will open the way to our ancestor’s homeland, and we will be safer there than we are here.” He held her chin up and wiped a tear away. “Do not mention this to anyone, Eh’Atris thinks you will play a part in the prophecy. We are not sure of what but he is certain of it. I am going so that you don’t have to, you will be protected from the men raiding us. They will most surely attack anyone leaving the village at any time, so Arktus and I will be acting as peria traders from Oryncus Dulu.”
Milavenai nodded and put her head on his shoulder. She knew the dream she’d had was part of this whole thing. That it played a vital role in what would happen in the near future.
“I have something for you, it was passed down as a family heirloom – apparently our oldest ancestors forged it,” he said as he retrieved a small sword from under his cloak and pulled it out of the scabbard.
It was beautiful, the whitest metal she had ever seen. The edges seemed to glow and the designs shone brightly. She smiled and took it as he replaced it into its sheath; she didn’t have any words, but thanked him with a tight hug.
They stood; Milavenai went outside and helped to pack the peria cart with dried and fresh fruits. Phiuri’s veresti To’Ourk was attached to the front, looking around with an air of amusement. Milavenai wasn’t worried about the peria; those medium‑sized fruits could last weeks off the plant without shriveling or rotting.
Pip stared as his stable mate was harnessed to the cart. He bobbed his head up and down as if to ask what was happening, making odd guttural sounds and pawing the ground. A bushel of peria and grass was brought to calm him; he munched on them, but still kept raising his head to look toward To’Ourk.
It took most of the morning to prepare everything. Some of the villagers were either so vain or frightened that they stayed in their homes and did not help. The day passed without them, letting the rest of the village work or laze about – relaxing until tomorrow. A meal was prepared for the ones involved to gather and say farewell to Phiuri. It was a sad meal, falling into the stomach like a sour stone and making them feel ill.
At last the sun began to set; the cart was stacked with the last crates filled with goods and the two men climbed on. They waved at sorrowful friends and family, setting off for lands they had never been to. Milavenai went inside and sat on the chair in her room, she was tired for some reason. It was strange how sadness affected the body. She sluggishly made her way to her waiting bed, it was as if she were walking through water, and then she fell into a slumber so deep, it was almost dreamless.
~
“No! Phiuri! Please, no! Arktus, who has done this?!” Milavenai awoke with a start at her mother’s wails.
Confused as to what was going on. She got out of bed and noticed the night sky through the window, the sobs of her mother sending her heart into an attack of anxiety. As she entered the family room her heart stopped a short moment. There lay her father, covered in blood and lacerations, mortally wounded.
“Father!!” she cried out as she ran to his side.
He opened his eyes and stared into hers, smiling weakly.
Eh’Atris seemed to choke, “He is awake! How– It is not possible!”
The healer continued to rinse the bloody cloths in the basin he was kneeling at.
Phiuri spoke weakly, blood interfering with his breathing and voice, “Mila, my precious honey bee–” He went into a coughing fit, the others holding him down as he convulsed in pain before continuing. “I was never meant to go, it is you…you need to go with Arktus to Lunas Cainus, it is the only way the prophecy will come to pass–” He coughed, a cloth held up to his mouth as a stream of blood flowed down his face from his lips. “A spirit appeared to me…in near death, he told me you are the chosen, this task is set for you alone–” He coughed again, his body twisting in pain. “You must meet with a lycan named Rolvus Nys in the town of Ereduin, he‑he will know what to do…” His voice trailed off; he started heaving with struggled breaths, reaching up as if to grasp for some unseen thing, then his arms fell limply as he exhaled for the last time.
Elsys threw herself upon his lifeless form. “Phiuri! Nooooo!!” she screamed into the furs covering part of his chest, weeping convulsively, unable to catch her breath.
Everyone stood around the room; it just seemed like a nightmare more than reality. The strongest of the village was dead, they had killed him as easily as a mere rabbit.
Eh’Atris shook his head slowly, almost defiantly, then sputtered, “No… This is terrible.” He looked at Arktus, who was still in shock, hunched in a chair. “How could they have overtaken you? You two are the strongest we have and no mere rabble of men could ever have been able to take you down!”
Arktus became furious, glaring at Eh’Atris and bellowing, “It was not a small rabble, we were swarmed from all sides by a large mob with crossbows and scythes. We were able to hold them off until their archers caught Phiuri from behind.” He looked down at Phiuri, then back at Eh’Atris. “You try and defeat over thirty men at once! They gave no warning, no sounds, we rode straight into an ambush and Phiuri is dead for that!”
Eh’Atris sighed. “I guess you are right, I am sorry for snapping. We cannot let grief overcome us, Milavenai…” he said, looking over at her with a pause. She looked at him through tears as he said with sincerity, “I know this will be hard, but you must finish what he started, you must do this if our village is to survive. Those men who killed your father want us all dead and you are the only one among us who can ensure the safety of the village.”
She nodded amidst sharp sobs, but didn’t speak.
Arktus nodded as well. “We might as well go now, we killed all of them.”
Everyone in the room looked at him, shocked.
“We didn’t let one live, after the archers shot and mortally wounded him I slew them all. Their corpses cannot ambush us if we go now,” he said, standing and walking toward Milavenai.
She didn’t budge.
“I want him to have a proper funeral first,” she said.
Everyone seemed to agree, she did deserve to see him sent to the spirit world with dignity.
It didn’t take long for them to prepare his body, the entire village wept as they prepared the table for him to be placed upon. The mourner sang her song of death, filling the air with sorrow and grief for the loss of a respected and loved member of the Blood Wolves and the village. His body was set atop the table, his clothes doused with oil and surrounded by bundles of sticks.
Wearing black robes, Milavenai bore the torch, her face silhouetted under the large hood. She walked a circle around her father, lighting the branches, then stopping and setting the torch in a stand along with a pattern of other torches. She stood at the head of the burning table, watching as the last remnants of Phiuri became ashes.
The funeral took hours; it was still dark enough to leave and not fall prey to another attack.
Phiuri’s ashes were strewn in the river. A rod bearing engravings about him and his life placed in a slot with others who had died before him. The river glowed with the ashes and a mixture the chemist had prepared, sending beautiful lights around the river and the watching villagers.
Arktus and Milavenai prepared. It was now more personal than it had ever been. The cart was still ready, but this time To’Ourk seemed depressed, hanging his head lower than usual. They got in the cart after cleaning it up a bit and getting dressed in the classic Oryncus Dulu trader outfits, setting off for the dangerous outside world and the path to the lycans.
* * *
Pictures
The Eythra - Trees and Fortunes
Tears - Two Keys for One Lock
Bestial Wrath - The Rage of Wolves
Pip - The Path of Lycantis
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Impressum
Texte: Malaena Medford
Bildmaterialien: Malaena Medford
Lektorat: Kathy Medford
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.11.2012
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"My mother is my one true inspiration in life, without her I wouldn't be who I am today."
~Malaena "Lycantis" Medford