A Werewolf’s Saga
The Beginning
Books 1, 2, & 3
The Dawn of Humans
The Rising Son
&
Changing Tides
Michael Lampman
© 2015, 2016 by Michael Lampman
All Rights Reserved
A Werewolf’s Saga
The Dawn
of
Humans
Michael Lampman
© 2014-2016 by Michael Lampman
All Rights Reserved
Made in the U.S.A.
Get into the entire Saga with:
A Werewolf’s Saga
Changes
The Pack
Redemption
The Wanderer Awakens
Darkness Rises
The End Times
The Puppets and the Strings
A Werewolf’s Saga, The Beginning
The Dawn of Humans
The Rising Son
Changing Tides
Coming Soon
Reemergence
Power and Pain
Or visit www.AWerewolfsSaga.com for more information
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In the Beginning
It all began well before anything was written down from pen to paper. The world looked so different then. Then a species of beings, creatures of such great power that they could become monsters of the hunt and control the senses of all life, came out from the darkness, and ruled the world. These beings, these creatures, hunted at will. They possessed an endless thirst that nearly ended all of the life on this world before it had even started. This thirst, this endless desire, gave them their names. Their prey would come to call them the Blood Walkers. The name fit them well.
At first, the Blood Walkers killed at will. They fed with abandon until their favorite food went extinct. Humans would later call these people with many different names. The Neanderthal, the peoples of the north were the first of them to fall. With their food source gone, the Blood Walkers quickly faded. Their numbers fell. Females of their kind died off first. Their need to feed more than their mates made them weak and frail after giving birth. In the end, the Blood Walkers nearly went extinct themselves, but thankfully, or more importantly, interestingly, the humans came. They came from the south. They came at just the right time. They came and afterwards, nothing would ever be the same again.
To prevent the inevitable end from ever reoccurring, the few remaining Blood Walkers made a choice. This time they would defend their food. They would manage their prey, and with it, they did what any Blood Walker thought they would never do. They taught their prey how to live. They taught them how to grow their food. They taught them how to thrive. In the end, they gave them everything that they would come to have—civilization. With this knowledge, the humans only grew in numbers. They grew in their strength. Fearing this, the Blood Walkers gave the humans something else. They gave them belief.
The Blood Walkers became their gods. They became their salvation. They became their gravest fear. In exchange for their protection, these gods, these creatures, fed on those chosen by the humans as sacrifices and with it, a balance came to the world. This balance lasted for centuries. It lasted for generations until something happened that none of them ever foresaw. A few of the sacrifices lived through their deaths. They survived the bite, but more importantly, they also changed. Those few became something like the Blood Walker that bit them in whatever form they were in when it happened. With this change, new Walkers emerged, and with them, new problems came too.
Some of the Blood Walkers saw this as a new beginning. Some welcomed these new children into their world, while others feared what it meant. Whatever side they were on, the new Walkers were born. They came with the three forms. They came as the wolf, strong and determined. They came as the bat, cunning and possessing the gift of flight. They came as vampires, fast and with the sight of life. With all of them, they formed and blended into the families of their Blood Walker kin. But this was not everything, because they also came with children of their own.
Some of these new Walkers continued their former lives, and stayed with their human families. They stayed with their husbands and wives. The inevitable happened when they gave birth to children—children with the abilities of the Walkers, but without having their weaknesses. These children became the Wanderers, so named because of their ability to wander between both worlds, and along with them, came the Walkers gravest threat. The Wanderers’ power grew, and with it, so did the fear they caused to their Walker clans. To prevent them from becoming too powerful, the few Blood Walkers accepted them into their families. They chose them as their priests. They made them their voices to their human prey.
For some time, this balance made the world calm. It made it nearly prefect, until something new happened that no one ever saw coming. A Blood Walker, one of the oldest and most powerful, Satar the Walker of the North, vanished. Reports of him heading south, destroying human village after human village followed. With this, a new fear would be born and it would shake the very world to its core. This fear, the fear of death, the fear of the end trumped all other fears. The Walkers had to overlook their suspicions of the Wanderers. They had to hide their horror of the humans. With both, they had to find Satar and stop him before he destroyed everything the Walkers built.
This was how it all began. This was how everything changed forever. This was when I, Rochie of the Devanna clan came into this story, and with it, the world would never be the same again…
1
“What is it father?” Little Carla asked, finding him outside their home towards the center of this quaint little village at the base of the Silent Mountain. Her home had always felt small. It had always felt calm. Her family had lived there for as long as she could remember. For a child, not yet a woman at the age of twelve, it always felt the same. Her father, the chief of the village of Darwan, was no different. Darwan was very typical of a human village of the northern plains of what one-day would be known of as Europe. Only a hundred or so families lived there, with a six-foot high wall surrounding their brick and mud homes. But now something felt very different about the place. Something felt very different about him. She could feel it. She had never seen him like this before. He didn’t sound right. He didn’t look right. He didn’t feel like he was. In fact, he felt a thousand times worse.
“Something is not right here my daughter. There is coldness on the air. There is darkness hanging over the village.” He answered her without thinking. He stood at the door, but yet, he was far enough away to be considered outside. He kept his eyes looking up. Why he was doing this, only the gods would know why. He felt a dread on the wind, and that feeling was only growing.
“What is wrong?” Hearing this, Carla worried instantly.
D’Anta heard his daughter’s voice quiver, and because of it, he regretted instantly what he just said.
“It is nothing.” He didn’t intend to frighten her. He would never do such a thing willingly, and realizing that he just did, he turned his eyes down from hers.
“You do feel something. I can see it in your eyes.” Seeing the heaviness in his face, she didn’t believe him. He looked false. He obviously hoped she would see something else. He was wrong.
Feeling the weight, he couldn’t look up. “I am growing tried. It is late. The night comes too fast this time of year.” Winter was coming. The sun hung lower in the sky every day. Knowing this, he hoped it would be enough of a lie to quench her fears. Seeing the feeling growing in her beautiful dark green eyes, he knew he fail
ed. He could never lie to her.
She bowed her eyes, not wishing to see him like this, but instantly something caught her attention coming behind him and it made her freeze in place. Someone, a young man that looked like Fermi, ran towards her father’s back.
Her father heard him too, and turned.
“Chief Magistrate? A Walker is in the air. A Shade has come down from the mountain.” Fermi had been on lookout all night. He watched the mountain road gate. This was usual for him, but not this. He didn’t know what to do. He just felt fear. He shook with the thought.
A Shade was a Walker in bat form. They were stealthy when they were. They were also dangerous when they came unannounced.
Hearing the quivering in his voice, and understanding why he was, D’Anta turned back to his daughter with the greatest haste.
“Go inside my child.” His voice now quivered too. So did his thoughts. No Walker comes down from the heavens without the Wanderers. Something must be wrong. Something must be so terribly wrong for such a thing to happen.
Carla didn’t fight her father’s wishes. No human ever would. Walkers may be gods but everyone also feared them. They were dangerous, especially at night.
D’Anta watched her close the door. He heard the heavy iron latch of the door click. Only then did he turn back to Fermi.
“Are you positive? It is not like them to come down without the Priests.” None of this made him feel calm. Nothing he thought made him feel relaxed. His mind exploded with a terror that was hard to explain.
“It comes soon.” Fermi could only swallow with a shallow gasp. He even started to cry as several tears streaked down his young golden colored cheeks.
Seeing the young man’s tears, understanding why they were there, D’Anta had no other choice but to stand strong. This was his village. He was their magistrate. He was their chief. He had to find some kind of control. It was up to him to discover his strength. They chose him to lead them because only he could. He needed to because this was one of those times.
“What do you wish for me to do Magistrate?” Fermi didn’t know what was running through his master’s mind, but if he did, he would have agreed with it. He needed his strength.
D’Anta knew what to do. “Gather the village elders. Have them group together in the center of the village square. We must greet the Walker when they land.” This was normal. A god was coming and they needed to welcome him. They needed to pay it their respect.
“Yes D’Anta. I will do it.” Fermi finally felt air flush through him again. He felt thankful that he now had a direction to follow. It was better than having nothing at all.
D’Anta watched him turn, but it was only for a brief moment at that.
Behind Fermi, down the narrow stone lined street, towards the center of town, a large dark gray colored man-sized bat thudded hard onto the center of the street. The sound bounced off the stones around it. It crouched at the knees. It folded its wings and arms up behind its back. Even within the torch-lined darkness of the street, its bright red eyes sparkled. Its tall and pointed ears flared. Its oval face and bat-like nose turned.
It saw Fermi first.
He barely made a sound when it rushed him fast, faster than any animal ever pounced. Within a blur of air, the Walker jumped at his chest. It leapt at his face, and with one great and powerful bite, it shredded his throat, tearing out his neck with some of his chin. Blood sprayed everywhere. Pieces of bone flew in all directions. The sounds of a rasping, gasping splash followed the sight.
D’Anta watched it all. “By all of the gods!” he screamed, wanting to run back away from the carnage, not three feet in front of him, but couldn’t do it. He could feel the wind move from the attack. He could feel the heat of Fermi’s dying body in front of him. He could even feel the dampness of the blood caress his face. Seeing it, feeling it, he stopped his want to run. He stood firmly. He stood strongly. He had to regain his control. He needed to stand his ground. After all, this was one of their gods. This was one of their teachers. Although he feared it, even though he cringed from seeing it, he still had to remain strong. He had to lead.
“My lord?” He raised his arms up, letting his hands reach up over his head. He took a single step forward but kept it at only one. When he came to a complete stop, and came to only a foot from poor Fermi’s now lifeless body, on his back with the large and massive bat on top of him, the Walker looked up. He watched his eyes burn. The red colored, maroon splashed blood dripped from its mouth. Its fangs glistened between the red and sparkled like ivory. It looked at him and its face began to swirl.
It twisted, bubbling, forming from that of a short snout to something that looked more human. The bat’s nose protruded out. The face flowed from an oval look to an elongated human looking chin. The tall and pointed ears slid down the sides of its head. The dark gray of its skin turned white as black hair oozed out on top of its head. It stood up on its hind legs when the wings glided back to human hands and arms.
“Lord Satar?” Seeing him form, seeing his face, D’Anta gasped. He bowed his head, but only briefly, before he raised it again. “I am surprised to see you my lord.” In all honesty, he didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to feel. He of course knew who Satar was. He knew him as the lord of the north. He knew him as one of the strongest of the Walkers, and as one of the oldest. He also knew that none of them had seen him for years. This, in itself, was not unusual. Walkers never truly came down to the humans, but being that Kenar, a Wanderer of the north was in the village several days ago asking about him, it made him feel astonished. He just couldn’t believe that he was there.
Satar, now fully standing, fully human looking, fully naked, yet still covered with Fermi’s blood, didn’t look surprised. In fact, minus the blood, he looked downright normal. He looked human. He looked young and neat. He looked nothing like the beast that had just ripped a man apart.
“Where is she?” Satar even sounded calm. He sounded almost serene.
Having to blink several times, having to wonder what all of this meant, D’Anta dropped his arms.
“Who my lord?” Again, he didn’t understand any of this. In a way, he never would. How could one ever understand a god?
Satar’s face turned disappointed, maybe even a little angry looking too. “I am looking for the young woman with the black hair, with the kind eyes, and the one possessing a solemn voice.” A growl echoed within his words. A deep gurgling sound followed the growl.
The sound reminded D’Anta of who he truly was, and realizing this, it made him cringe. Even with this said he still wasn’t sure what his master was talking about finding.
“I do not know of whom you are referring to my lord. Who are you wishing to find?” Because of this, because of the growl, he truly wanted to help him. What he did to Fermi meant that if he couldn’t, or didn’t, he could very well be the next to die. Walkers were never satisfied with answers that they didn’t like.
“You cannot hide her from me. I will find her even if I must tear apart this village to do it.” The anger on his face only grew, and so did the growl rumbling and coming between his breaths.
D’Anta was more confused than ever. “My lord? I do not know…” He couldn’t finish.
Satar had enough of this. He again let his eyes flare to red, but this time, instead of calling out the Shade inside him, he called on the wolf.
Terror gripped D’Anta fast as he watched his god’s face again begin to bubble and ebb around his skull. He watched his skin turn to a deep dark gray, and watched as hair flew out all over his body. Before he could think of anything, before he could simply flinch, he watched the snout form. He watched the body grow tall as he stood on two large and massive paws. He watched with utter powerful aw as a large and massive wolf formed. He could only gasp as it then pounced.
The wolf came fast.
He moved with tremendous speed as he jumped onto the human’s shoulders and tackled him to the stoned road. With him down, and now on top of him, he b
rought his powerful jaws down to the man’s face. With all of his ravenous anger, he wrapped his snout around his head and squeezed.
All D’Anta heard, all he felt, was his head snapping between his ears. He felt his skull shattered. He actually felt the teeth joined inside his brain. The force of death overtook him quickly and thankfully, he died fast.
For the rest of the village, it would all happen the same way.
Satar broke through every door. He searched every home. He took it out on everyone that was not her. Blood sprayed everywhere. Bodies became stacked like logs. In the end, he left no one standing. He left no one alive. He killed four hundred desperate souls just as brutally fast. He just couldn’t help himself.
2
“Another has been lost my lord. I can feel hundreds of deaths. I can hear hundreds of screams.” Gorhan, the great sage of the Walker realm felt it. He heard it. He smelled it. He feared it too.
For Odan, the head of the Viranna Clan of the far icy north, he too could feel death on the wind. He couldn’t hear nor see what Gorhan could, but feeling what he was, he did not doubt his gifts. He never could, nor would.
“Where? Where has he struck again?”
They had been searching for weeks, moving south first, and now once again, they were heading north. Every time they came close to finding him, they would only find death. Looking for him was proving far more difficult than they had ever realized. It was also killing him too.
He and Satar grew up together in the old days, back before the Great Dying. They were more than just friends; they were like brothers. When Satar’s mate, Permona died with the birth of their only child, he too felt the loss, maybe not as Satar had, but he did feel it. It crushed him just as strongly. It killed him just as sure. Now with his friend doing this, killing, devastating the lands, a part of him felt missing. Trying to find him and stop him from this path, killed his mind. If he couldn’t, if he couldn’t stop him soon, he feared what he would have to do next. This idea killed him the most. He might have to kill another piece of him in the end. He may have to destroy his friend, and thus, destroy another part of himself.
A Werewolf's Saga, The Beginning (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets Book 3) Page 1