Lycanthrope: Cover of Night
Truth and Deception

When the portal shut behind her, she took in her new, unfamiliar surroundings. Certainly, she knew she was back in Allosfaire. The mystical intoxicating atmosphere was all around her, heightening her senses with every passing moment.

Above her, was the clear, beautiful sky with the Aurora lights forever blazing in and out. The otherworldly attributes were specific enough to verify she was in in the celestial other realm, but this place was off the beaten path. Above her were trees that seemed to be as old as time. They were taller than sky scrapers and their branches were gnarled and shaped in odd ways.

As she walked and pushed away branches, she heard the snapping and creaking of wood.

Frightened of something that could be lying in wait, she glanced around again but to her astonishment, the trees were repositioning themselves.

Roxanne tried swinging a knife in front of her to make way. The blade caught the thin branch, but the space was quickly replaced by another tree’s branch competing for room.

Roxanne exhaled.

“It’s going to be impossible to clear a path.”

Then it hit her. She knew where she was.

***

Somewhere deep in the Ravenous Woods, beyond the sight of any luckless trespasser, the familiar leader was waiting for Roxanne.

She stretched her long legs over the throw pillows around her throne, humming to herself as she waited patiently.

The room was spacious and luxurious, held up by stone pillars and adorned with long silk curtains. Even a demonic monster could have a taste for comfort.

Though the room was beautiful, the most notable thing was a wide screen against the front wall. Here, Sphixes could watch the whole world, through all the secret portals created after a storm had passed. There was the leak from the dilapidated town known as Mydohl’s. Another one was underneath the castle in Romania. One was a few miles outside of the precious home of Ipsum, and finally the one she had found in the headquarters of the tool, Olaf Sermis.

They were small, just big enough to see through but not enough to access, at least not for creatures lower than she. Even the lycanthropes couldn’t sense them with their fancy technology or keen senses. They were hidden so that a curious human couldn’t stumble across them.

She’d found them by watching for any disturbance in the atmosphere and keening her senses. One of the things all shifters had in common, was their incredibly potent senses that could warn them before a storm struck.

Now, one of the portals was leading the werewolf straight to her.

“The trick is to make them small enough so nothing can come through and Grexis can’t detect them,” she explained, turning to her captive.

“I’m probably wasting my breath, but why is it so important to you that Grexis is destroyed?” Zaac asked.

“On the contrary, it would serve me more if they succeed and continue to adapt and evolve. If there isn’t anyone left to live through, we don’t live at all.”

He lifted his head in question.

“You consider yourself a god?”

“Lower than God. More of a universal agent,” she replied.

He still seemed confused so she explained further.

“All shifters have a role to play, whether they know it or not. Each tribe is like one living organism. Aclarenchia, the kitsune, myself, and a few others are just the heads of their own tribe,” she told him.

“If you thrive by following their lives, why are you doing what you can to destroy them?”

“Because chaos weeds out the weak. Following their adventures prior to victory is always nourishing because there are survivors to carry on to the next stage. The few that fall through however, well. . . there’s no greater ecstasy than to wander the playground of a broken mind.”

Her voice and appearance shifted to resemble Roxanne.

“As long as there’s balance, I can enjoy either outcome. Whether they win or lose. . . but supposing that Grexis fails. . .” she added cruelly and caressed Zaac’s cheek.

“I wonder what Roxanne’s mind will look like when I shatter it. Lots of fun adventures she’s had. Plenty of trauma too.”

The imitation was close that she even wore the same rings as Roxanne, or so it would appear. It was enough to make Zaac’s skin crawl.

He replied boldly.

“But if they succeed, any strayed shifters will no longer be your target since they can’t become rabid anymore.”

Sphixes stopped and reverted to her original form and stared at him.

The corner of Zaac’s lips curved up as he turned and faced her.

“One less trick to add to your ranks.”

“Games are only fun if they get harder,” she growled, grabbing him sharply by the throat. “And believe me, sonny boy, the real fun is only beginning for your precious heroine.”

***

After using her sense of smell to find the destined path, Roxanne made her way to a strange palace. The sand colored walls went up almost as high as the horizon. Long vines snaked up, down, and side to side along its walls. There was only one entrance made of two great stone slabs with words engraved into its surface.

“To enter, offer a gift of blood and mind,” Roxanne read out loud and then flattened her ears. “Charming. All these blood donations just to open a damn door,” she thought back to her experience at Mother Wolf’s cavern. “A trend, perhaps?”

She knew there was no way out of it. Pricking her finger and smearing her blood on the stone, she made her entrance.

Upon entering, she noted that the interior was quite different from the sturdy, tall stone walls. The columns, stair cases, and floors appeared as if they were made of wax melting. It was as if this place was once founded on something great, and through corruption and time, was slowly caving in on itself and losing its original shape. The young werewolf took it all in, feeling unsettled with forged curiosity.

“What happens now?” she thought. “Is Sphixes watching me just beyond my sight? Along with her sadistic, mind manipulating followers? And where’s Zaac?”

Both to her relief and fear, Sphixes revealed herself. Her long tail dangled in front of Roxanne and wrapped itself into a coil. Upon unwrapping itself, stood the familiar queen herself.

“Glad to see me?” Roxanne asked, mustering up some courage.

Sphixes towered over her with burning red eyes. Her long, clawed fingers twitched by her side.

“I suppose you think you’re terribly clever, coming so far along and on the brink to salvation?”

Roxanne stared back calmly, anticipating the familiar’s every move. “All that remains is you,” she replied.

“But something always goes wrong, doesn’t it?” the familiar pointed out. “The few times the lycanthropes have attempted the trials, they either ended up dead or missing.”

“Sure, there have been failures,” Roxanne agreed. “But as times go by, the world becomes a little more stable. My Pack has remained strong enough to provide me with the resources needed.”

“But why have you made it this far? There were plenty of times your Pack wouldn’t have made it to you in time.”

“I guess I’ve got this to be thankful for,” Roxanne motioned to her left hand with a sly smile.

“Yes, a dire blood. Even suffering the worst of injuries all you need to sustain yourself is the blood of the inflictor,” Sphixes sneered. “So convenient that you just so happened to have that rare attribute when the trial came again.”

“You call that convenient?” Roxanne scoffed. “Two thousand years nearing the brink of extinction? I’d say it was about damn time!”

The familiar studied her with both hatred and approval. Roxanne grew more confident.

“Whether it’s fate or just dumb luck, I’m here, aren’t I? And I’ve gotten further than any other time attempted.”

The doubt in Sphixes’s burning eyes flickered into amusement. “Or maybe you’re just bat shit insane from straying too long.”

“Then you better not set me off,” Roxanne curtly replied. “Rabids have no self-preservation, right?”

“You’re very confident. No doubt about that,” she smiled cruelly, while leaning in closer to her. “Eric Frasanco got this far too.”

Roxanne’s hairs pricked up when she felt someone sneak up on her. She whipped around and gasped.

“Hello, Lovely,” the familiar known as Azrais cooed.

Before Roxanne could shoot, Sphixes flicked her tail and ripped open a void. Roxanne shrieked as she fell through.

Down, down she fell until she reached the bottom.

Roxanne crawled to her feet and strained her eyes to make out anything in the encroaching darkness. She waited for a few minutes, pondering what would happen next.

“Is this one big timeout?”

Silence and more darkness followed. Seconds felt like an eternity. She closed her eyes and prayed there would be more than pitch black when she opened them.

Her wish was granted. A small, orange grain of light appeared in the far distance. She paused to make sure it was real and wouldn’t disappear the moment she blinked.

When she realized it was actually there, Roxanne began making her way to it. First, she walked but then she sprinted.

To her relief, the light grew. The faster she ran, the larger and more detailed it became.

At last, the image stretched out to meet her as she ran toward it. Roxanne found herself in an ancient city built of hewed stone.

She wasn’t alone though. There were hundreds, no, thousands of men and women walking the streets. They wore togas and tunics made of soft linen and leather sandals on their dusty feet.

Roxanne regarded her surroundings with vague curiosity.

“What am I supposed to see?”

She studied the architecture’s pillars of Corinthian style and thought back to her history books from the earliest days.

She was in Rome B.C. or at least that was what she could perceive.

Between carts and robed pedestrians, something caught her eye. Part of the pillar on the side of one of the buildings began to shed sand. Roxanne stared at it and saw that the building itself was crumbling. She backed away to avoid the debris. To her horror, everything the sand touched caused that to crumble as well. Eyes glued to the destruction, she bumped into one of the civilians and whipped around.

“What’s happening? Do you see this?” she asked the man.

He froze and stared at her. The color flushed from his profile, not just in his face but in his hair and clothing. He was the color of stone.

A split formed in his face, and that too slowly shattered to dust. Roxanne shrieked and ran.

Fleeing from the horrific sight, she pushed through the crowd as the shattering wreckage crashed towards her.

She had to get out. But how?

Roxanne frantically looked this way and that; fortunately, the void at the end of the chaos was close.

As the rest of the rooftops began crumbling around her, she summoned the change on her speedy four legs. It was all she could do to keep from being buried.

At the final moment, she ran up the side of a cart and sprang like a cat into the void’s gaping hole.

Safely landed, she gazed behind her and saw the blackness swallow the remnants of the city like two waves enveloping a beach.

“Phew,” she sighed, shaking the dust from her fur. When Roxanne felt recuperated, she tried to make sense of everything. “What was that all about?”

To her surprise, Azrais revealed himself to her. “I’m sure you’re well versed in your Lycan history, right?”

Roxanne scowled.

“Of course. It’s one of the first things Axel tested me on.”

“Then you tell me,” he smirked wickedly.

In a blink of an eye, he was gone again. Roxanne was left in question but as before, she had no choice but to continue in search of an exit.

Another speck of color pierced through the void. This time, she was in a room with stonework of a Tudor style.

“What God forsaken place am I in now?”

“Forsaken indeed,” came Azrais behind her. “What drove the werewolves to Allosfaire during the second trial?”

Roxanne didn’t say anything.

She was too busy studying a wealthy looking man walking past her. He seemed unaware of her presence. Perhaps he was observing the contents he carried in a cage.

She hurried after him.

He led her down into a courtyard filled with people and then set the cage down. Roxanne attempted to get closer, but the courtyard was becoming more crowded. She just barely craned herself over the crowd to get a view.

The nobleman reached into the cage and pulled out a large rat with red eyes. He ran his bony, almost claw like, hand over the creature’s brown fur, cooing as if comforting it. Roxanne regarded this questioningly and then she gasped in horror.

“Stop,” she cried.

Roxanne desperately tried to reach him before he unleashed that damnable weapon.

He turned his gaunt face towards her for the first time. His lips curled back over his teeth as he grinned, cruelly. Eyes the color of dried blood burned back at hers.

“NO!” she screamed.

But there’s was nothing to stop him from releasing the rats into the yard.

Where their feet touched, the grass weltered. Where the residents trod, disease spread.

It was only when the people fell sick to their knees that Roxanne could pass. She hopped over the flailing bodies as she flung towards the rats.

It was to no avail. The rodents crept through cracks and escaped into the town outside. The werewolf bounded up the steps that overlooked the streets and held her breath.

The smell of smoke and corpses burned her nose. She gazed out the window and saw the world thrown asunder.

Bodies lay in the streets and the already gray sky was polluted with debris burning below.

Roxanne’s breath came out panting. Screams echoed outside the tower.

“It’s only in your head. It’s not real.”

“Not real?” came Azrais’s booming voice.

“Several hundred years ago this was very real. This is what most people thought was the world coming to an end. All so your kind could enter into a new one.”

“No,” Roxanne cried, tears welling her eyes. “You did this. You unleashed this horrible plague into the world.”

“But who was blamed at the time?” Azrais’s voice asked. “The Europeans’ superstitions blamed it on creatures of the devil. Witches, warlocks, and . . . shifters.”

“You were always the evil ones,” Roxanne protested.

Her protests only amused him.

“Their fears drove them to kill their few defenses. Thanks to their superstitions they thought getting rid of anything related to witches would keep them safe. But with no cats to eat the rats, the diseased fleas spread much faster.”

Roxanne wasn’t going to be deterred.

“And witch burners died out because of it, along with their superstitions.”

Without another word, she jumped from the wall and took off down the street.

Something else caught her eye as she searched for an exit.

It was a white wolf running down the street. It stopped in front of her and fixed her with a calm expression and then turned down the street.

Roxanne followed.

As she ran, she noted this was indeed close to the end of the world. People moaned in pain and fear. Ash and rubble piled up like an erupted volcano. Bodies were shoveled into a roaring furnace like coal.

The pollution clouded her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. There were times when all she could do was feel her way around the buildings to escape the sickening wreckage.

Strange hooded figures patrolled the streets, wearing long robes and beak shaped masks. Everywhere they patrolled, the air was nauseatingly sweet, like perfume trying to cover rot.

The air wafted and carried the gas in her direction. It blocked her sense of smell and burned her eyes. She would have to keep moving if she hoped to escape.

One of the rats charged toward her, spreading filth along the way. Roxanne circled around one of the beams holding up the side of a dilapidated tavern before springing upon it like a cat.

Upon killing the rat, her path cleared.

“Kill the rats, keep the plague at bay,” she reminded herself.

When the coast was clear, Roxanne breathed a brief puff of fresh air. She quickly turned the corner to relocate the white wolf and was stopped in her tracks by Sphixes.

“Are you so sure they all died out?” she asked referring to Roxanne’s early response. “One surviving tracker charmed by your other world market hardly makes up for the men like Sermis?”

Roxanne didn’t say anything. She only looked for a way to cross.

Sphixes stepped forward through the growing flames. “They doom themselves. Man’s fears are like a pyre. Add enough fuel and everything burns.”

Roxanne narrowed her eyes. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,”

The familiar smirked and moved out of the way as a panicked villager hurled a torch at Roxanne. The flames shot up the side of a building.

Roxanne retreated as it singed her nose, recoiling from the intense heat as she fled down the street.

The more she ran the more the street grew crowded with panicking victims of the plague. They reached out for her with rot blackened hands.

“All because of you!” they hissed.

“No, please, we never wanted this!” she tried reasoning, but they kept swarming.

Roxanne screamed when she saw their eyes roll back into their head and sink back into their sockets. They still kept reaching and grabbing, as if determined to bring her down with them.

“You’ll rot here too, Roxanne,” they whispered. Their putrid breath curled around her ear.

“NOOOO!”

With a burst of energy, she ripped herself away from their grip and crawled out underneath. She could taste rotting flesh and dripping blood. Literally tearing through them with teeth and claws was the only way to pass.

Like heaven’s relief, she spotted the white wolf again. Patiently waiting for her before climbing to its feet, the wolf sped down to another awaiting exit.

Lungs bursting, she shot through the void after it before everything burst into flames.

***

This darkness held no end. No beginning. Or maybe it was because Roxanne didn’t want to seek the exit.

After seeing what she had seen, maybe it was better for the time being. She inhaled the air sharply and held it in. For as long as she could, she kept the air tight in her lungs. When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she gasped and began to sob. Collapsing to her feet, she slumped down in the dark void.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she cradled her head. She didn’t know how long she cried. In this place, time was simply an invented measurement, without any consequences. How long had her ordeal lasted?

In the last two days, her home had been attacked and she had nearly been killed. The next day she had risked her life again to save her pack members and seen a good man mowed down by a wicked one.

Now, she was in the middle of the territory of the worst kind of enemy, being mentally torn apart by past tragedies. When her red eyes grew dry, she lay down and curled into a ball. Oh, how she wished she could wake up safe and sound in her own bed back in the valley.

Roxanne turned over on her back and gazed into space. She saw strange shapes, among them the images of her comrades.

Axel was playing the mandolin and Hans was practicing on the guitar. Her pack hummed to the lovely music. Even in the void, the music was crystal clear.

When she turned her head to the side, she saw angry faces glaring back. Her fur stood up on edge and her fangs cut into her mouth. With the constant hallucinations, only one thought came to mind.

“How long have I strayed?”

Roxanne closed her eyes and pretended that she was going to sleep. Even with her lids closed, she could still see the strange convulsing shapes and feel her body shake with the piratic change.

“How long did the kitsune say I could stay before suffering mind spells?” she wondered in a calm, hypnotic state. “What’s next after hallucinations? Violent intentions? Then a

rabid? . . .” she asked no one in particular as she drifted off.

***

When she finally woke up, her surroundings had changed for the worse. Instead of being a calm peaceful black void, it now pulsated with inks of red and grainy gray.

“Zaac . . .” she whispered, forcing herself to fight back.

Crawling on her hands and knees like a weary animal searching for water, she combed the oblivion for a way out. Roxanne exhaustingly reached amongst the pulsing black and red shambles of broken minds, searching for an exit.

There was someone here.

Was it worth reaching for her gun? Or was it better to let whatever it was take her?

It didn’t appear to be a foe. It was a woman.

She had long, silver hair tied in a side braid and dressed in a formal but comfortable outfit. The woman was petite and slender with blue eyes, high cheekbones, and fair skin. Roxanne guessed she was in her seventies the way a few wrinkles lined her face.

The woman didn’t seem to be bothered by her surroundings. She strolled confidently up to Roxanne, with no regard for the disturbing surroundings.

“You’ve got to be a hallucination,” Roxanne sighed. “You’re far too normal for this place.”

Her words seemed to amuse the stranger.

“Normal? . . . That’s such a contradictory word. Given one’s surroundings, anyone can be abnormal.”

“Look. Being in the Sphixes den, I know I’m in the last place to say I hate riddles,” Roxanne spat. “But I’d at least hope my own subconscious would spare me. What do you want?”

“To help you. Do you remember what Zaac’s grandfather said to you before you left?”

Roxanne collected her thoughts as she tried to remember. “That when things look bad, know that I have made it this far?” Roxanne quoted. “Well, is this as far as he meant?”

The woman shook her head.

“Nothing is guaranteed, Roxanne. Especially not our future. But, if you give up now, your end will be.”

“I’m at the end of my rope here,” the young woman cried.

“The familiar is trying to break you with things of the past. They’re cruel but they love hiding their answers in plain sight. You have to keep moving,” she offered a hand to Roxanne.

The young werewolf glanced at it first, and then accepted the help as she was lifted to her feet.

“Look at your own weaknesses that you share with your enemies for start.”

Roxanne strained her eyes and struggled to keep her balance.

“Easier said than done,” Roxanne replied, wearily.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

The familiarity was too unsettling.

“Who are you?” Roxanne asked. The stranger simply smiled.

“Live long enough and you’ll find out.”

With that, the elderly woman backed up and disappeared into the darkness.

Roxanne was alone again.

A strange calmness enveloped her. She stood a few moments, thinking of her situation and trying to make sense of the old woman’s words. Whatever happened, Zaac was still here, somewhere in this maddening hell hole.

She wouldn’t leave until she found him, dead or alive. Besides, given her predicament, there was nowhere left to go but forward.

Roxanne squinted as she tried to make sense of what was up ahead. Were her eyes fooling her? It wasn’t unlikely given her circumstance. A little part of her told her to be cautious of a potential trap. The other part gave way to a small sliver of hope that he might still be alive.

Roxanne pounded forward and gasped. “Zaac . . .?”

It was him, bloodied, beaten, starved, and tied up by cat eyed vines.

“Zaac!” Roxanne cried both horrified and relieved.

She ran forward to rescue him. He wearily lifted his head.

“Roxanne?” he asked in a raspy voice. “Are you real?”

She smiled as she began climbing up the pole he was bound to.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

The moment she touched his hand, the whole void seemed to shake. Color flew in all directions and animated a new environment.

She had been swept to another hallucination like the crumbling Rome and diseased, ravaged Europe.

Roxanne pulled her knife from her holster and carved thick slices into the vines. For the stubborn ones, she used her lighter to end their hissing and hostility. She supported Zaac’s weight as he stumbled down once, he was free.

The two gazed around uncertainly.

They were in the middle of a ghastly place. Fog rolled up from the inky, odiferous plants and a dark liquid bubbled from the ground. It didn’t appear that sun rays had breached this place for a long time.

“This place doesn’t look like anywhere I’ve seen before,” Roxanne stated.

“What do you mean?” Zaac asked.

“Everything I’ve seen has something to do with the prior trials,” she explained. “One was in Ancient Rome. The second was the black plague, and now where ever the hell are we now?”

“The third was when a man from Grexis, Eric Frasanco, went off to find the cure in Allosfaire, but he disappeared, right?” Zaac asked.

She nodded.

“Well, maybe this was the last place he came to. Maybe he got close to the cure before he died or went rabid,” Zaac suggested.

She looked around.

“It’s as good a guess as any other.”

They strolled through the bleak landscape, unsettled and uncertain of what they’d find.

“How are you doing, by the way?” she asked.

“Practically famished.”

Roxanne bit her lip and rummaged in her pocket. She found a small water bottle and some jerky. Zaac wolfed both down gratefully.

“Do you remember anything after you were taken?” Roxanne asked.

Zaac shook his head. “Kept blacking out, I barely even know how long I’ve been here. I’ve been having to count the literal seconds.”

Zaac took another step forward and collapsed to his knees before vomiting violently. She ran over to support his weight and soothe him.

“Hey, hang in there. Okay?”

“I’ve been here too long. . .” Zaac managed to stutter before vomiting again.

Roxanne fought to calm her nerves. She couldn’t help but feel she was about to face the inevitable.

“Oh god I feel like shit.”

“We just have to find the exit,” Roxanne told him and helped him to his feet. “The Pack knows we’re here.”

She supported him as they walked on. Up ahead they came across a vibrantly colored flower bed. Their stems were long and thin and their petals were blue and gold, and shaped like hoods. Roxanne’s nose filled with a scent both of damp, cool earth and a strange pungency. The very waft of it caused her to feel woozy.

She backed away as Zaac moaned in nauseated pain.

“Mother Wolf,” Roxanne cried. “Those are wolfsbane flowers.”

“I thought those only grew in Europe.”

“The rules don’t always apply here,” she replied, as she studied the flower’s shades.

“Hard to believe they are poisonous when they’re so pretty,” Zaac admired.

“We need to get out of here. Just touching the plant can make you sick.”

She turned back to check on Zaac. He seemed to be caught in a trance.

Roxanne cautiously walked over to him.

“Zaac?”

He didn’t seem to hear her.

Zaac?” she called again.

Roxanne crept closer. Zaac was shaking all over. His skin was pale and his eyes were bloodshot.

“This is just another trick. She can imitate anyone. . .” he muttered like a madman.

“Zaac? What’s wrong? Roxanne pleaded.

She reached a hand to get his attention, but he snapped at her.

“How do I know you really are Roxanne? How do I know you aren’t just fucking with me!?” Zaac growled as he knocked her hand away.

She shrieked and jumped back as he advanced.

“Zaac, STOP! It’s me, Roxanne! This isn’t a trick! I’m not a familiar! You have to believe me!”

When she said his name, he stopped and shook his head, internally trying to fight it off.

It was brief though. A few seconds later and Zaac had reverted to his rabid symptoms.

“I can’t trust you! I can’t trust anyone here!” he cried before fleeing into the woods.

Roxanne ran as fast as she could as he fled. Normally, she could have easily outrun him but, his new maddening adrenaline made him as fast as if he were full werewolf.

She ducked through the twilight woods. The vines and thorns ripped at her hair and clothes as the airy ground threatened to suck her down. It was all she could do to close the distance between herself and her confused companion.

Gaining more speed in her wolf form allowed her some time to get ahead and circle around Zaac.

Not meaning to, Roxanne stumbled onto another bush of wolfsbane. There was a wave of nausea, enveloping her as her fur disappeared and fangs retracted. She crawled to safety knowing how much damage the poisonous flowers could cause.

A low branch hung close on the slopes leading down to the garden bed. She grabbed hold of a branch as far back as it would go as she lay in wait. Shortly after, Zaac burst through the foliage, still running in a terrified panic with the wolfsbane between him and Roxanne.

“Don’t take this personally.”

The placing and timing of the branch was perfect.

Smack. One whiff of the flowers had done the trick. Zaac tumbled back into the trench and lay disoriented and immobilized.

She checked for signs of permanent damage. To her relief his chest moved up and down. A few moments later and he finally came to.

To her relief, when he opened his eyes, they were hazel instead of bloodshot.

“Roxanne? What’s happening to me?” he asked, terror clinging to his words.

“It’s the effect of Allosfaire,” Roxanne replied hesitantly. “You. . . you’re suffering mind spells.”

His face was enveloped with shame and horror.

“I’m so sorry. Please help me. I don’t want to lose you.”

Roxanne nodded and hesitantly approached him. “I know, Zaac. It’s not your fault.”

She rested her hands on his face. The fumes were slowly weakening her.

“But we can’t stay here; too long and it will kill us both.”

He looked at her with the pained look in his eyes and nodded. She bit her lip as she continued.

“I hate to leave you here but given the circumstances, this is probably the safest option. For both of us.”

“I wish I could help you.” Zaac looked so miserable. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. “I’m the reason why you’re here.”

She shook her head.

“It was inevitable I come. At least with you there’s one friendly face, right?”

“Roxanne, that was a really bad joke.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she laughed and then turned serious. “I’ll look for an exit. The ditch will be the safest place for you. I’ll lay some wolfsbane around. Should you wander, you’ll snap out of it.”

“Good luck,” he mustered a smile as he watched her go.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

***

A small path hidden by a thick moss was her next bet. Often, she had to avoid more tufts of wolfsbane.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” she wondered. “Is this the last place Frasanco came to?”

Gun fire ricocheted through the tall trees. Her ears and nose perked up. It appeared to be a young man running from something terrible.

She crept closer to get a better look.

“Stay away from me, dammit!” he cried.

He was being hunted by a horde of rabid werewolves. Their white eyes looked like spoiled milk. Their nails and fur stood on end like a disease, and their growls were neither animal or human, but something tormented in between.

“Over here!” she cried, shooting at his pursuers, trying to buy him some distance.

He looked to see who was yelling. When he realized it was someone friendly, he bolted over.

“Where the hell did you come from?” he asked.

“Probably the same place you did!” she replied. “No time to talk, they’ll surround us!”

The two ran for the safety in the deeper parts of the swamp with the nightmarish pack only a few paces behind them.

The two slowly gained some distance, just wide enough where they could hide beneath the shade of the trees.

Roxanne spotted a patch of wolfsbane up ahead.

“Head for the flowers! The fumes will dilute their senses!”

“No,” he protested, grabbing and pulling her into a small cranny. “They’re heavily poisonous. It will kill us.”

“I know but not as quickly as the rabids!” she argued, looking frantically behind them.

“There’s a better solution, just trust me!” he told her.

Roxanne bit her lip before finally complying. What other choice did she have?

The ground became marshier as he led her through a narrow pathway. Roxanne eventually found herself on the banks of a bubbling brook. Along the bank more wolfsbane grew.

“Here, you can try this. These will throw the rabid’s frenzies off without poisoning us.”

“How are these any different to other wolfsbane?” she asked.

“There’s a special mineral in this stream that depletes the toxin’s content in the flowers,” he told her, proudly. “This will prevent werewolves from becoming rabid.”

“All wolfsbane ever does is either kill us or our wolf senses,” Roxanne argued.

“Try it yourself.”

Roxanne rose an eyebrow and eyed the plant suspiciously. She reached out after some consideration and carefully felt the stem.

Nothing happened.

She ran her finger to its leaves and rubbed the juice between them. Still, she didn’t feel woozy or sick.

In fact, her sense of smell and hearing were as potent as ever.

“You see?” the man asked, smiling.

Roxanne didn’t truly know what to think. She looked thoughtfully down the long narrow stretch of the brook’s pathway. It went on through the marsh and disappeared through the trees.

“Have you followed where the creek goes?” Roxanne asked.

He shook his head. Roxanne stood up and grabbed a few of the flowers by their stems. If she was going to venture to the end, she was going to be prepared. Maybe the mysterious man wouldn’t mind accompanying her?

“Hey, do you want to come with me for safety. . .” she asked turning around, and then stopped. It was if the man had been swept away into the thin air.

“Remember, it’s just another hallucination,” she reminded herself. “Shit goes as fast as it comes.”

The ground became less marshy as she followed to find where the brook flowed to. “Maybe there’s some landmark I can recognize and find it again?”

The scenery seemed to melt into a different one as alternate energy pulsated from its center. Roxanne’s senses flickered from the leak.

The one thing she hadn’t considered was if this hallucination had taken place in the human world like the others or somewhere deep in Allosfaire.

“Am I entering the human world or walking out of it?”

To her pleasant surprise, her surroundings did start to look familiar. Amongst a dense, forested valley, large boulders poked from the mossy, rich earth.

She spotted a forest pool hidden away beneath the lush overgrowth.

“That’s the same pool I bathed in after the hunts during my initiation!” she gasped.

Roxanne turned her attention back to the leak.

“It wasn’t a coincidence that I found Azrais here in the human world. She had him patrolling the portal.” Roxanne put everything together, “Hide it in plain sight.”

As she trailed along the banks, she came to the brush pile she had piled up for a makeshift grave for the strayed porswine. A few bones poked out from under.

“It had been almost a year since Zaac revealed everything to me,” she thought, nostalgically. “We’ve come so far because of him.”

As she followed the creek, she found more wolfsbane flowers that did not hold the hazardous side effects of the ordinary ones.

“This creek is the key.”

With a satisfied smile, Roxanne stood up and began following her tracks back to the leak. Azrais stood blocking her path as if he had been waiting for her.

“At least it’s not Josie,” Roxanne spoke smugly when she had regained her composure. The familiar chuckled.

“Deja vu, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.

“We had no idea how close we were,” Roxanne noted, shaking her head.

Azrais stepped forward.

“Nor did I.”

The werewolf stared down the former one, both regret and fear churning deep inside of her.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“Tested beyond my limits, but nothing I did not choose with a subconscious mind,” he said and then stepped forward as the ground began to shake.

It was if they were in the middle of an earthquake.

“A choice I look forward to subjecting you to,” he threatened.

His voice was like a hollow echo.

Roxanne turned to him defensively with golden eyes and raised her crossbow.

“Keep your mind games. I’m getting the hell out of here!”

The familiar shifted into the black, cat-eyed vines as she passed past him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the vines stretch out behind her.

As she ran, the whole surrounding area was crumbling into a black void, like the fleeting memories of waking up from a dream.

Roxanne did her best to not be lost with it.

She backtracked, disappeared back into the leak, and went to retrieve Zaac.

“Roxanne! You made it!” he exclaimed when she arrived.

“We need to get out of here. Get on my back!”

Zaac lifted himself up on her furry hide as she rose to her fore legs and took off.

There was an exit up ahead and they could reach it in a matter a time. It took every ounce of energy she had in her wolf form, but no matter how much her muscles burned, or her bones cracked, she ran like the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.

In this place, that wasn’t out of the question.

The chase and weight caused Roxanne to collapse as she sprawled over the marble floor. Zaac quickly scrambled off so she could breathe.

“C’mon, Rox. Get up!” he cried, as he tried pulling her to her feet.

Roxanne panted and spluttered. It was too much. The fatigue of fighting, hunting, and running finally took its toll on her. It was like a thousand needles were tearing themselves into her skin, all the way to her muscle and in to her bones.

She reverted to her human form.

“C’mon Roxanne. We’re almost there.”

“It hurts so much. I can’t stand,” she cried, teeth clenched.

“Yes, you GOD DAMN CAN!” Zaac retorted defensively. “You’re not dying here.”

He lifted her to her feet as her strength faltered. With a deep groan of defiance, she pushed herself through to one last sliver of determination.

Roxanne exerted herself with Zaac’s aid. The end was so close, like tasting prey before it was taken down.

To their horror, the cat eyed vines began creeping from the cracks and crannies of the walls and floor. Roxanne pulled her crossbow and fired as Zaac guided them toward the exit.

“She’s not letting us go without a fight. Even if we make it outside, there’s no way we can get through the Ravenous Woods,” Roxanne growled.

“It beats dying in this bloody place,” Zaac gritted his teeth.

Unlike when entering the palace, the doorway was now high in the air.

Roxanne let out a frustrated cry but Zaac wouldn’t be deterred.

“Roxanne! Shoot there!” he cried, pointing to the archway above them.

It appeared to be cracking and she saw what he meant. She obeyed his command and fired her last arrow, causing the rubble to fall and create enough dunnage for them to reach the top. Zaac leapt forward and just barely missed the opening. He scrambled to his feet against the risen wall and swung his leg over the side.

“Give me your hand!” he cried, extending his.

The werewolf tucked her crossbow away and checked to make sure the wolfsbane was still securely in her satchel. Giving herself plenty of space, she ran forward and extended her legs as far as could. It was just enough to make the leap and catch Zaac’s wrist as he pulled her to safety.

***

Roxanne’s senses whirled and triggered as they searched for the clearing. It appeared as if the human world’s atmosphere was drawing near.

Up ahead blue was mixing with hellish red, indicating where the portal was.

Axel’s voice calling to her was a relief. “Roxanne, we’ve opened it for you! Hurry!”

Eager to be free of this cruel, insane forest and familiar’s playground, the two ran as fast as they ever had. She could barely see Axel, Lucille, and Hans waiting on the other side.

Fate had a cruel joke stored up its furry, clawed sleeve.

The moment Roxanne and Zaac were only inches from the portal, the cat eyed vines snared across the exit like hissing snakes.

“NOO!” she cried, tears edging at the corner of her eyes.

The demons struck at Roxanne from behind.

She whipped around to meet her assailants, but the force struck her to the ground before she could land a blow. Stars spun around her head. Azrais purred cruelly from above her. The pain tore at her abdomen as she clutched her belly.

“Guess some tricks work more than once on dogs,” he told her smugly.

The werewolf stared at him through her tears as she gritted her teeth. Zaac tried running to her rescue.

“Get the hell away from her!” he screeched.

For a moment Azrais’s expression flinched but Sphixes’s vines swooped around the hapless human and strung Zaac up by his wrists.

“Guess it’s the thought that counts,” Sphixes mocked the young man.

With Zaac out of the way, the two turned back to Roxanne.

Laughing sinisterly, Azrais picked Roxanne up and forced her back into one of the trees. His claws made a tight grip around her throat.

“It was rude of you to leave so early,” he growled. Roxanne struggled to breath. “We were just getting to the good part. . .”

Sphixes watched as Roxanne fought Azrais, gasping and clawing to free herself as Zaac struggled violently behind them.

When all hope seemed lost, a blinding light struck through, separating all of them from each other. They shielded their eyes from the brightness as the mysterious ray began to take form.

In the midst of the turmoil and fear, stood Mother Wolf herself, with blue eyes blazing and white fur standing on edge. She was wild, fearsome, and angelic, all in one.

Sphixes was the first to regain her composure from the intrusion. She studied the magnificent wolf with feverish eyes, and then narrowed them when she recognized her.

“Aclarenchia,” she growled, hatefully. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“The trial is over,” she told her. “Call your pawn off now.”

“This is my domain. You have no say here!”

Mother Wolf turned to her and walked forward, holding the demon in a patient yet cool gaze.

“I’m treading no worse than you, beast. The trial was for her to find the rabid cure and escape your lair, which she did the moment she found the flowers and woke from the spell.”

Azrais fretfully released Roxanne and Zaac and backed away. Zaac rushed to his companion’s aid and cradled her as she drew in fresh breaths.

“How do you know she found the wolfsbane?” Sphixes hissed.

“You’re not the only one who can travel omnipotently,” Mother Wolf told her, plainly.

“You assisted her during the mind spells? You’ve broken the pact!”

“I aided her mentally. No physical assistance was provided,” Aclarenchia explained.

“Not all was done by her. She would have died a dozen times before without her Pack, remnant, and the fact she’s a dire blood!” Sphixes hissed.

Aclarenchia beamed a strange, heartfelt and thoughtful smile.

“Yes, like a pack, they all played their part. Just as you love playing yours. But now the long hunt is over. Any further interference from you would be disturbing the balance.”

When Mother Wolf mentioned ‘balance’, Sphixes demeanor quickly changed. It was no longer frustration and anger, but fear.

Roxanne wasn’t sure of every part of their conversation, but from the way Sphixes reacted to Mother Wolf’s subtle warnings, something much deeper was hinted. Finally, the familiar queen accepted the situation.

She dropped her aggrieved attitude.

“Kindly unblock the portal I’ve created, would you?” Aclarenchia asked her politely.

The familiar gritted her teeth but complied. With a snap of her fingers, the cat eyed vines snaked back into the ground like worms.

When the coast was clearly free, the three lycanthropes entered. Their expression was that of caution, awe, and curiosity as they ambled through.

“Mother Wolf!” Hans exclaimed, as he caught sight of his comrades.

“Yes?” Aclarenchia playfully asked.

“Oh, pardon me. I didn’t mean offense. . .” he began.

“Quite alright,” she laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been missing your Pack members.”

Even in the calm, none of the three dared turning their backs on the familiars as they made their way to Roxanne and Zaac.

The dire blood embraced each one warmly and felt several tears slide down her cheeks when Axel wrapped her in his arms. They were all silent, but relieved as they embraced her.

“Ready to send your pups into the wild?” Sphixes snidely asked the Wolf.

Aclarenchia laughed. “When I punished Romulus, it was because I was afraid that he would lead my Pack into ruins, but with Roxanne and hers, it will only grow.”

“Another day, another game,” Sphixes replied before casually strolling over, making each one of the lycanthropes’ hair stand on end and brace themselves defensively.

“Oh, give it a rest,” Sphixes chuckled in a both cheerful and annoyed manner. “I’m not a sore loser, enjoy your little victory.”

“I don’t care what rules you claim to follow. None of us will ever trust you,” Roxanne warned.

“Nor should you,” she laughed cruelly. “Every so often someone does outwit one of my riddles, but it’s far and few between. Look up Oedipus.”

There was a brief pause as at her comment.

“You’ve been around for quite some time,” Axel remarked.

“And I learn from my mistakes,” she replied promptly before turning to her own ilk. “Come, Azrais. The werewolves have a lot of back patting to do before enduring a life in Allosfaire.”

The familiar began following his mistress when Roxanne approached hesitantly.

“Eric!”

Her usage of his former self’s name stopped him in his tracks as he turned back to her questioningly. Now that she had his attention Roxanne mustered the courage to continue.

“You and I both have endured something horrible caused by her. You may have chosen a darker path but at one point you did hold the interests of the Pack in your heart, otherwise you wouldn’t have lost so much.”

Azrais listened calmly, while Sphixes appeared uncomfortable. A rare shred of doubt glimmered in her red eyes.

“There must be a way to reverse what was done to you. . .” Roxanne spoke, almost as wishful inquiry.

He gazed back at her thoughtfully. The smallest light of a smile appeared in his face. Roxanne’s heart beat faster, as if she could get through to him.

But whatever she thought she saw, faded like winter stealing the last bloom when he chuckled sinisterly.

“Oh Lovely, you still think you can save everyone,” he laughed, mockingly. “I made my choices with a clear mind.”

Roxanne’s spirit faltered as the harshness of his words seeped in, but Sphixes reveled in them. Whatever doubts she had felt when Roxanne addressed Azrais’s past self, quickly diminished as he returned to Sphixes’ side.

“Your faith is heartwarming, though it will do you no good.”

The two walked beside one another and cackled to themselves as they disappeared back into the Ravenous Woods until not even their laughter could be heard.

Roxanne watched them go with the others silently. Aclarenchia approached her from behind and nuzzled her sympathetically with her muzzle.

“Can’t say I didn’t try.”

***

As the five returned through the portal, the warm morning sun greeted them.

“So, free range in Allosfaire. Hope it’s big enough to stay away from those two,” said Hans.

Zaac chimed in.

“All you have to do is mass produce enough wolfsbane.”

“We may not become rabid anymore, but there’s still a lot of terrain to cover. A few things we have to consider when dealing with the other tribes,” Axel noted.

Lucille thought on this.

“Swiftred could be a good base to use for planting. It’s spacious and there’s plenty of rich soil.”

Roxanne felt like she was going to pass out.

“Before all that, can we please take some time off? We all just went through hell, myself and Zaac most recently.”

“I second that,” Zaac agreed. “I could go for a drink and an actual meal.”

Hans chuckled.

“We’re in luck. We opened the portal based on a specific tavern’s location I have connections with.”

“Will they serve booze this early?” Zaac asked.

“I told you. I’ve got connections. . .”

***

Several days later, Roxanne had finally caught up on some rest. She’d curled up in her room, resting, dining, and clearing her mind with some video games. It wasn’t even until the sun set and the moon took its place that she decided to make an appearance.

In her sweet solace of the cool night air, she leaned on the railing that overlooked the valley to reflect everything that had happened over the past few years.

Her solitude was interrupted by Axel coming out to check on her. He held a gin tonic in one hand and a brandy in the other.

“Little refreshment?” he asked, offering her the cocktail.

She gladly accepted it.

“Thanks, my favorite,” she smiled and took a sip. “Glad you remembered.”

“We’ve known each other for quite some while, now,” Axel chuckled, stirring the amber liquor in his own glass.

“Come a long way. Changed a bit, haven’t we?”

“For the better I’d say.”

They two smiled mutually and gazed back out into the natural beauty of the night valley.

“Did you ever have your doubts?” she asked.

“No.”

Roxanne turned his way and raised an eyebrow. “You liar.”

Axel scoffed. “How so?”

“C’mon. With the constant shit stirring, you honestly are going to tell me you never once were worried or freaked out at all?”

“You can worry and struggle without necessarily being doubtful. It’s called faith.”

“Faith in what, particularly?” Roxanne asked.

“That there’s something greater out there that’s aware of our presence and struggle,” he replied. “Half the stuff we’ve seen and felt can’t all be explained with mere science. You yourself ventured to the outskirts of hell and made it back.”

She was silent as she reflected on the train of events.

“Roxanne, I can’t imagine what you went through but there’s a reason you made it back alive. It couldn’t have been luck alone.”

She nodded calmly as she stared off into space.

This was one of the first times he and she had ever conversed on religion or spirituality. She admired his words and regarded them thoughtfully.

“My mother always said to keep an open mind. The present’s reality is the past’s fantasy. I suppose that can be said for shifters too.”

“Smart woman, a mother/daughter resemblance,” Axel remarked, warmly.

Roxanne smiled back at him as their silence was eventually broken by a howl seeping through the night air.

“Think that’s from a regular wolf or one of ours?” Axel asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Roxanne replied. She gave him a beckoning smile and led him down the steps to those awaiting. “It’s our call.”

The brownies and horned hares skittered into their nests at the sounds of their approach. Porswine raised their heads from grazing. Goat mackles dove into Iris Lake as the ground rumbled. Satyrs crawled from their hideouts amongst the Ruins. The Linxei tribe shuffled to their windows to hear the commotion as night gliders soared above.

Dusk cats concentrated their long antennae-like whiskers to sense them. Fire foxes blazed like sparklers from their excitement. River nymphs surfaced from the waves to get a glimpse, and all former imprisoned werewolves, were free to greet their long-lost family.

It was as if all Allosfaire had come forth to witness the lycanthropes’ return.

With all their speed and strength, the pack whipped up a steep hill amongst the Swiftred hills as one large animal. The hill rose so high it was if they could touch the full moon with the tips of their muzzles, as if they could scoop up the stars with their paws or swirl the Aurora lights with their tails.

Axel threw his head back and howled loudly. The call was followed by Lucille and Hans. A few others chimed in. Roxanne howled the loudest she ever had before.

Not only was it the loudest she had ever made in her wolf form, but also the most distinct. It didn’t sound like she was intimidating an enemy or proclaiming her kill after a hunt. It was the way her howl mingled with the rest of her family’s.

Wild, fierce, strange, and reflecting that for the first time in two thousand years, they had come home. . .

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