Ghost Wolf

by Brandon Chen

  “As have you, Faelen,” the Titan’s voice grumbled. “The humans imprisoned you for centuries and you only butchered the inhabitants of Horux? Is that the extent of your vengeance?”

  “I seek a cure for the burden that you’ve forced upon me,” Faelen seethed, his eyes flashing with rage. “Once, I was human. But your promise for power transformed me into this monstrosity. I was shunned by my family and friends, condemned as an abomination by my empire, and confined to a silver cell for no reason other than my appearance as a beast. Revenge upon the human race will not change the monster that you’ve made me.”

  “This news will be unfortunate to you then,” Malyios said with a snide tone. “You’ll never become human again.”

  “What?” Faelen gnarled, a flash of rage in his eyes. The werewolf rose to his feet, reaching the height of the black mist that drifted before him. He tilted his head slightly. “Why do you say that?”

  Images began to shine upon Malyios’s misty body, showing Faelen the Titan’s memories from within the Oblivion Vault. Faelen watched as Yuri mercilessly murdered Tanya, who had been his final hope for becoming human. The werewolf’s eyes widened when Tanya dropped the antidote that could make him human again. He winced when the priceless vial shattered on the ground, cringing at the sound of the breaking glass.

  Faelen clenched his teeth as he was forced to stare at Tanya’s lifeless corpse. She had done as he had asked. Pushing through Iradia’s forces, she’d made her way to Lichholme. She’d managed to find the Oblivion Portal and break into the vault. And when she finally had the antidote that Faelen needed … Yuri had swept in to ruin his plans yet again. That accursed boy hadn’t even had a legitimate reason for killing Tanya. He’d just heartlessly murdered her, his gaze as cold as Lichholme’s remorseless winter.

  Yuri certainly seemed different in the images that Malyios showed Faelen. It wasn’t just the boy’s hair color that had changed. It was his attitude, his expression, and his indifference towards taking a life. Faelen recognized the apathetic countenance that Yuri had worn when he crushed Tanya’s windpipe. It belonged to that of a monster. The humans should be caging that damned murderer!

  Faelen quivered with rage. “He’ll pay!” he boomed, his fierce voice shaking the ground. Thousands of his werewolves responded to his enraged cry with yowls that echoed in the night. He let out a roar, ordering his beasts to charge Zylon’s wall.

  Anger burned in his eyes as his horde of monsters charged at the spike wall, beginning to pry off the magical thorns with their claws. Faelen gritted his jaw, dark magic channeling down his forearms into his claws. If there was no way for him to become human anymore, then he didn’t care if Escalon was destroyed. Everyone could perish, as long as Yuri was among them.

  Faelen swiped his claw outward, sending a rush of demonic magic from his fingertips, slamming into Zylon’s wall with enormous force, quaking the earth to its very foundation. Massive fissures split across the ground, but the barrier still held. Faelen expected no less from magic created by the infamous immortal. “Bring it down!” he commanded to his army.

  A Taste of Freedom

  Zylon extended his quivering hands towards the gigantic wall that trapped Faelen and his werewolves. He gritted his teeth, feeling his magic crumbling beneath the werewolves’ unrelenting attacks. The immortal did his best to fortify the wall, sealing whatever cracks it had, to keep the werewolves at bay. But each time Faelen struck out with his dark magic, his power dealt devastating damage that Zylon could not mend in time.

  For months, Zylon’s army had been stationed at southern Escalon’s land bridge, meeting no opposition from Faelen and his werewolves. But suddenly, Zylon was woken in the middle of the night by the sound of heavy banging as Faelen’s beasts proceeded to smash the wall’s spikes, greatly damaging the barrier.

  It was morning now, and the sun shined down on five thousand Iradian knights that stood behind Zylon, their shields and swords raised. Riflemen positioned themselves behind the front lines, their guns trained on the wall, preparing for its collapse.

  Zylon felt drained since he’d been rebuilding the wall continuously for hours. The werewolves were relentless; they didn’t give him a single moment to rest as they bombarded the barrier. He concentrated a lot of his energy on rebuilding the wall’s spikes, knowing that if they weren’t present the werewolves would simply clamber over the magical obstacle.

  There were still many spikes in place, enough to prevent the werewolves from scaling the wall. Suddenly, a shadow fell over the immortal. He glanced up to find a massive werewolf descending behind him. Faelen.

  How did he climb the wall?

  The beast hit the ground with such force that a crater formed beneath his feet, clouds of dust sweeping out in all directions. Faelen didn’t hesitate for a second as he dashed towards the Iradian forces, his eyes filled with bloodlust. Gunshots rang in the air as bullets sped towards the advancing werewolf, some of them burying into his flesh. But Faelen ignored the searing pain, enduring the damage as if they were toy darts instead of silver bullets.

  A single swipe of one claw was enough to rend the front line of Iradian soldiers, shredding their armor and kite shields apart like paper. Faelen didn’t stop there, barreling through the ranks of knights like an inexorable bull, sending soldiers scattering in all directions. Hundreds laid slain in his wake, but he didn’t bother to infect any of them. He seemed perfectly satisfied with savage murder.

  Zylon mashed his teeth together, wincing as Faelen’s werewolves continued to attack his wall. He wanted aid his warriors, but he was immobilized while mending the barrier. “Damn it!” he shouted in frustration as Faelen trampled the final defense of Zylon’s force.

  At least five hundred warriors were slaughtered in only a minute’s time. Another three hundred lay injured. The remaining knights hadn’t even had a chance to attack Faelen, for he’d moved far too quickly. Already, the werewolf had sprinted into the distance, his body a blur as he darted across Escalon’s fields.

  Zylon closed his eyes in defeat, knowing that the humans of Escalon were now doomed to infection, if Faelen chose. He grunted, maintaining the barrier that held Faelen’s subordinate werewolves back. “We’re in trouble now.”

  ***

  Moriaki brought Violet and Yuri back to Reidan, allowing them to mount him while he was transformed into a giant bird. When they reached the city the following morning, King Reimos gladly welcomed their arrival.

  The druid landed in the courtyard outside of Reidan’s citadel, and the Iradian king came out to greet them personally. His hands were outstretched as if he intended to embrace the giant bird. “Welcome back, my heroes,” he said, his eyebrows rising when he saw Violet dismounting Moriaki. “Oh my, we were worried about you, Princess Violet. Your parents thought that Lichholme would claim your life when they read the letter that you left behind.”

  “Well, I’m alive,” Violet said, rolling her eyes. “Where are my parents now?”

  “They’re in Teolan, helping the Horuxians get settled,” King Reimos said, concern flashing across his face as his eyes rested on Yuri’s unconscious body. “Will their stay in Teolan be long-term?” he asked.

  Moriaki changed back into his elf form, lifting Yuri into his arms. He nodded to Noah’s magical pouch, dangling from his belt. “The solution to our werewolf problem lies within this bag,” he said with a grin. “I just want to make sure that Yuri is taken care of before I depart for southern Escalon, where we’ll begin retaking Horux.”

  Lord Reimos clapped his hands joyously, satisfied with the results of their journey. “I’ve received word from Zylon that they’ve stabilized their position in southern Escalon. The werewolves won’t be escaping any time soon.” He motioned for Moriaki and Violet to walk with him into the castle. “What’s happened to Yuri? Why is his hair white?”

  “Everyone that ventured to Lichholme has been through a lot,” Moriaki muttered, exchanging glances with Violet. “Yuri especially. Most of the
adventurers that initially left on the quest have already perished, Kura included.” The druid spoke in sepulchral tones, a distinct change from his ordinary mellifluous voice.

  A gloomy expression dawned over the distressed king, who shook his head in disbelief. Kura had been one of his greatest warriors, having survived many battles with formidable foes of Iradia. She had always returned to King Reimos as a victorious champion. Hearing of her fall in Lichholme was unexpected. “I can’t imagine how dreadful Lichholme must’ve been,” he said as the group ambled through the maze-like corridors of Reidan’s royal castle. “Will others be arriving as well? Or are you the only three that survived?”

  “There are others,” Moriaki said, smiling when he saw the Iradian king sighing with relief. “They’re being led by Archerus, traveling on foot. I imagine that they’ll arrive two weeks from now. An ally of ours, Lady Amara, will be escorting them out of Lichholme.”

  King Reimos nodded, leading Moriaki and Violet into the royal infirmary. The room was massive, filled with many empty beds with mattresses more comfortable than most in Escalon. “You may leave Yuri here. I’ll have my best doctors look after him. How long has he been unconscious?”

  “He’s been asleep for a little over two months now,” Moriaki said.

  “What?” The king’s jaw dropped.

  The druid indicated to Violet. “She’s been watching over him every day since he’s fallen into this magical slumber. Don’t bother giving him medicines or any special treatments. When he awakens is up to him,” he said. “Our job is merely to keep him alive until he does.”

  The elf set Yuri down gently on an empty bed. He reached into his robes, pulling out the Oblivion Claws that had tormented the boy’s mind. The druid turned and handed the gloves to Violet. “If he wakes up, make sure to give him these. He’s the only one who truly understands the consequences of using such a dangerous Sacred Treasure,” he said. “They should stay in his possession. I trust that you will not put them on.”

  Violet nodded her head in understanding. “When he wakes up, you mean,” she corrected.

  Moriaki blinked, realizing what he’d said. He chuckled. “That’s what I meant. My apologies.” The elf reached to his side, digging his hand into Noah’s pouch. Pulling out a Phoenix Cannon, he set it on the table beside Yuri’s bed. “If he does wake up sooner than expected, I know that he’ll want to join us on the front lines. That’s just the type of person he is.” The druid grinned at Violet. “Isn’t he?”

  The princess returned his smile. “He is.”

  Moriaki then departed, waving to Violet and King Reimos as he left the room. As the druid transformed into a raven and took to the sky, he felt a sensation of disconcertion quivering through him. Victory seemed so close — so why did he feel uneasy?

  ***

  A day had gone by since Faelen had finally claimed his freedom. It was wonderful, being able to finally breathe in Escalon’s fresh air. He’d dreamed of sprinting across the continent’s green fields thousands of times and now he was finally doing it. But he didn’t intend to bask in his temporary freedom. If he didn’t eradicate the humans, he knew that they would soon strip him of his liberties and lock him away again. Or, even worse, they’d execute him.

  Faelen slowed to a stop next to a river, sniffing the air. He turned and saw the faded signs of a bonfire from months ago. The scent of Archerus and Yuri still lingered around this area, though it was faint. The two had set up camp here long ago, when they’d first fled Horux.

  The werewolf sat beside the river, touching the stinging wounds that covered his body. Splotches of blood coated his dark fur and he winced, using his claws to painfully pry silver bullets from his body. As long as the silver was in his body, his flesh wouldn’t heal. Knowing this, he spent an hour painfully extracting metal from his tender wounds.

  When he was finished with the tedious activity, he eased himself over to the river, fully submerging himself beneath the cold surface. The cool water was rejuvenating, cleansing his wounds and slaking his thirst. As he slowly rose from the river, he saw that the rivulet had turned red with his blood. He groaned, cracking his neck to the side.

  After only minutes, his deep gashes had already begun to heal. If by some miracle he ever became human again, supernatural healing was something that he would miss. The rest of his prowesses he could easily live without, as long as he could coexist with others again, without being judged or feared.

  Faelen raised one his claws before his face, staring pitifully at his monstrous hands. Ever since he’d taken this form, he’d never been able to transform back to a human form. During his confinement in Horux’s catacombs, he’d spent every minute of every day searching through every emotion and memory within himself for his trigger. After a century of trying, he gave up. He assumed his trigger was something that was out of his reach. Because his trigger was a mystery, he would never be able to live a normal life. Not when he looked like this ferocious beast.

  The werewolf trudged onto the bank of the river, his feet sinking into the moist dirt. He shivered, spraying water off his soaked fur. The only way he could survive on this continent without being treated like a fiend, without being locked away, was if all of his potential jailors were destroyed. Every human had to perish.

  Faelen abhorred the idea of living on a continent filled with mindless beasts, but he had no other choice. The image of Tanya perishing by Yuri’s hand crept to the front of his mind and he clenched his jaw. Do you merely exist to foil my plans, Yuri? What are you and your petty friends doing in Lichholme? How did you manage to find the Oblivion Portal? Realization crossed his face when he remembered the ebony claws on Yuri’s hands. Had the boy’s transformation and drastic increase in power been because of that Sacred Treasure?

  The werewolf scowled. “In all of my years, I thought that I was the only being foolish enough to wield the Oblivion Claws,” he grumbled, storming in the direction of Reidan. His conquest of Escalon would begin with the toppling of the human capital. From there, the rest of the continent would crumble with ease. “It’s time for me to fulfill my end of the accord, Junko.”

  ***

  Moriaki was shocked when he soared over Zylon’s forces, which were scattered. Dozens of knights were dragging human corpses across the natural land bridge, pulling the dead onto the sand. Hundreds of cadavers were neatly laid out in the afternoon sun. The bodies hadn’t been buried yet and it would take a substantial amount of time to dig graves for each deceased warrior.

  The druid descended before the front line of Iradian knights, morphing into his elven form. The soldiers gasped, surprised by Moriaki’s sudden transformation until they recognized him. The experienced spell caster walked towards Zylon, who looked exhausted. The immortal had been continuously mending his wall, trying to hold back the werewolves on the other side.

  “What’s happened here?” Moriaki asked, looking over his shoulder at the armed knights, who stood ready for battle.

  “Faelen lost his patience and leapt over the wall,” Zylon murmured through his teeth, streams of sweat trickling down the sides of his face. “His beasts hunger for freedom. They’re relentless, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold up this wall.”

  Moriaki winced. He held Noah’s bag in his hands and pulled out one of the Phoenix Cannons. “You only need to hold it up for a little longer while I arm your knights.” He held Lena’s invention high in the air. The sun’s rays glinted off the metal and the Iradian warriors all stared at the weapon, unsure of its special function. “This is a Phoenix Cannon!” he shouted. “If you shoot a rampaging werewolf with this, their mind will become human again.”

  Zylon grinned, lowering his head. “Thank the gods, you guys really did it.”

  “Ammunition is limited, so don’t take a shot unless you know that it’ll hit,” Moriaki said, beginning to distribute Phoenix Cannons amongst the Iradian riflemen, providing each person with one hundred containers of Reberna. He showed them all how to fire and reload
the unique weapons. “With every shot that you land on those werewolves, we gain another ally. The beasts on the other side of this wall were all once human, remember that. If you must slay them to protect yourselves, do so. But I’d like to cure as many of these creatures as possible.”

  Moriaki walked over to Zylon and pressed a Phoenix Cannon into the immortal’s hands. The elf nodded, and Zylon stopped mending the magical wall, watching as the barrier began to suffer critical damage from Faelen’s werewolves. “Today,” Zylon yelled, turning around to face his force of armed warriors. “We retake the lost city of Horux!”

  The druid pulled out the final belt of Reberna ammunition and handed it to Zylon. “I’ll pursue Faelen.”

  The powerful magician nodded and clamped his hand on Moriaki’s shoulder. “Go, we can handle the rest here. Thanks for your help.”

  The immortal watched as the druid morphed into a raven and ascended into the sky. The ground quaked as Zylon’s wall fell, pieces of the magical substance tumbling to the earth. A swarm of werewolves pounced over the injured barrier, descending upon Zylon’s position. The immortal cocked his Phoenix Cannon and exhaled. “Open fire!”

  The Phoenix Cannons fired, sounding like exploding dynamite. Streaks of red followed the projectiles as they buried into the first wave of oncoming werewolves. The beasts toppled over one another, roaring in agony, as if they’d just been struck by silver. But within moments, the fierce countenance faded from their faces, replaced by bewilderment. Some of the werewolves started to speak, as disorientated as if they’d awakened from a deep slumber. Then they collapsed to the ground, exhausted.