Taria
In the heart of Taria, the ancient castle stood tall and proud, overlooking the land and sea with its white walls and tall towers. Life within and around the castle flowed as usual. People of all ages and sizes moved through the streets, some with purpose, some without.
At the very top of the central tower, the Eye kept a restless watch, overseeing the northern, southern, eastern, and western borders of the small but unconquered kingdom.
Touching the sun-shaped brooch on his cloak, the old man gazed up at the clear sky. He muttered something beneath his short, white beard and quickened his pace, vanishing into the grand building with his tall walking stick.
"Shall we—" The question was abruptly cut off by a loud knock on the door.
A grey robe fluttered as a middle-aged man rose from his seat at the round table and walked to the door, opening it.
The old man entered slowly, leaning heavily on his stick and panting heavily.
"You are late, Elder Crenn," one of the other four elders said with a grimace.
"What is that?" the old man bellowed, squinting at the table to see who had spoken.
"You are late!" Elder Marcy repeated, her voice louder and clearly annoyed.
"Bah! Why should I be punished for growing old? I am allowed to be late if I must!" He shuffled to the table and took his seat, still out of breath.
There were five elders on the council, each wearing a grey robe fastened with a sun-shaped brooch.
The sixth chair was reserved for the black robe, the leader of Taria. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, biting her cheek instead of laughing.
Elder Crenn's warm brown eyes darted from face to face. With a trembling hand, he took a sip from the cup before him.
"Any flowers by the rivers? Any songs in the winds?" he asked.
"Not so far... Only bare twigs, honorable council. With dents in them," Elder Marcy replied, her voice now low and sorrowful.
"Another loss added to the many," one of the other grey-robed elders concluded. "Nix, I suppose?"
The woman nodded slowly.
"Shall we begin?"
Everyone looked at Lady Ewinn, awaiting her lead. She clasped her hands together and began.
"I summoned you here today to discuss Dirae."
"About Dirae?" an elder asked, uncertain if he had heard correctly.
"What of it?" another wondered.
"It has been a year since I donned the black robe," the leader stated. "But only recently did I come across some old letters—two of them, from the werewolf king."
All the elders lowered their eyes, except for Elder Crenn.
Lady Ewinn glanced at each of them, realization dawning on her.
"Of course, you knew about this," she said. "Yet somehow, you failed to inform me."
"We didn't think it wise to—" The woman in grey was cut off by the loud tap of a stick on the stone floor. The others cleared their throats.
"You didn't think it wise," Elder Crenn's voice boomed. "You. And you," he said, pointing a bluish, trembling finger at the occupied chairs. "And you. And you!" He then looked at the lady. "But not me."
"Elder Crenn," Elder Marcy said, "I believe the meaning of 'wise' eludes you. You should enjoy the benefits of your age instead of struggling for breath when you are late to meetings."
"Well, it seems I was wise enough to reach this age," he retorted. "And I do enjoy the privileges of life. One of which is to sit here and witness your grimacing face each time you see me. What greater joy could there be?"
With a subtle cough, Lady Ewinn, the leader, regained the council's attention.
"I propose we invite this king to a meeting."
"But, Lady—"
"We need to broaden our horizons. How else can we find him—or her—if we remain secluded and comfortable? This summer marks the eighteenth year since the essence began to glow, which means the half-angel is ready. All those in favor, raise a hand."
Four hands were raised. Lady Ewinn turned her inquiring gaze to the last elder. "Do you not oppose?"
"Before I die, I wish to see change. Why do you think I supported you, Lady?" he replied with a toothless smile, proudly holding his staff.
"Do not do that, Lady," another elder spoke. "If you open the door to one beast, they will all come pouring in."
"Well," the leader said, "As I hold fifty percent of the power and each of you holds ten percent, it seems this decision is passed! I shall write to the wolf king and invite him here, on our terms. We shall see if he accepts."
"We must be cautious!" the elders said in unison.
.....
Jayce
With a stifled grunt, I opened my eyes. Flickers of light were coming from the tree's thick canopy, and, by the look of the sun, it was midmorning.
I tried to inhale the fresh air and, suddenly, a cough possessed me like a demon. Chunks of clotted blood came out from inside my throat and got sputtered violently, choking me.
Gathering all my inner strength, I coughed powerfully and expelled a big lump.
After a while, my breath gained its normal rhythm and I laid there with all my muscles clenched in pain. My chest relaxed gradually, with the pain subsiding. I got on my feet and looked around. Where am I? A puddle of dried blood from the spot I just rose was telling me that something happened there.
My mind was trying hard to recall things while I took in the surroundings. My feet carried me slowly away from the river, which I guessed it was the Dubh. By the look of everything, it must've been way further in the north from the Rocky Elbow. How did I end up here?
I shut my eyes and focused. I was with Illre. We were tracking down a woman and...
Suddenly I felt nothing under my foot and fought to regain my balance. What the hell?
The hole in the ground nearly pulled me in, and I fell on my butt fighting its call. Pine little brunches sat at the bottom, arranged in an oval shape. That was a grave. An empty one, with a broken shovel aside. Wondering about it, my eyes spotted something even stranger. Little holes dug in the wall and a pair of discarded boots told me that something climbed out. Now, I've seen things going into their graves, but not coming out. Not even the vampires use graves nowadays, no, they use rooms with no windows or thick curtains.
I sniffed from the edge trying to search for a clue, but it wasn't enough, so I lowered myself into the hole and grabbed the boots, then I dragged myself up to the surface. Hard task for my weakened body. They had a combined smell of long- worn sweat, with a flowery hint. That was the uniqueness of it. With my nose close to the shoe, I felt a throb in the palm of my hand. A red, fresh cut was covering it from an edge to another and I felt a pull I couldn't explain. I grabbed the shovel and start covering the grave, because I felt like that was what I needed to do. As soon as I threw the last remaining dirt, the throbbing was gone.
Sitting at the base of a thick tree, I took my sweaty shirt off and looked at my right arm. There was nothing! No bite mark, no angry skin, nothing! I tapped the area with my other hand; I stretched the skin- no trace of it, like it never existed.
Not understanding how this was possible, I knew I must find the lower. He's done something, and he will tell me. Did he have the cure and kept it away from all of us? How?
Determined, I got up and headed back to the river and made a quick job of washing myself. After I drank my fill, I headed south with the Dubh on my right. I needed answers.
It's been two years since I left with Illre the small village where he held me captive and filled me with moonberries whenever the bite festered. Two years since I last saw her.
By now, at twenty summers old, she must be married. Four years ago, when I first meet her, she was the only lower to show me kindness. Mirabeth came to visit me whenever she could sneak, but, after a year, she stopped coming and all I could think about was how I missed her. She brightened my darkness and her kindness gave me strength to live the torture.
One day, months after her visits ceased, she showed up with Illre and my breath stopped. Mira was not the same. Something dark was inside her. Sorrow. Grief. I remembered the words she spoke to me before turning on her heels and slamming the door shut.
"I hope I'll never see you again. They were right all along. You are a monster."
Since then, I never saw her again. Illre left after her, laughing.
"That's my daughter!" he said.
I tried to understand, but I couldn't. Not until now, when I recalled the last events that confirmed me what I suspected for eighteen years.
Everything started to get back to me. The woman we tracked. The conversation they had.
Illre was a dawner. Not just that- he was their leader, and he was behind the massacre that took away my unborn child and my she wolf. I was sworn for revenge. And I was going to have it!
She played me, just like her father did.
With blood boiling in my veins, my steps speeded up. I had to take a decision. Going to my king, or going for my revenge. She was a dawner, just like him, and he used her to tame me to do their biddings. But I will find them, and I will take from him what he took from me.
An eye for an eye, a child for a child.
.....