A Werewolf's Saga, The Beginning (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets Book 3)

by Michael Lampman

  Rana could never see anyone else helping him like she did. He was not only her father, but he was also her very reason for living. She could never repay him enough for what he gave to her. Besides, helping him to get ready for his daily sleep never bothered her. It was the least that she could do.

  As a Nightwalker, he had to sleep during the day. He was the nocturnal one not her.

  She still didn’t care. She grabbed his robe, a long white gown that he wore to bed every day, and took it to him gently. She even helped him put it on.

  “I enjoy doing this for you father. I enjoy the time we spend together as I do.” She smiled after he looked comfortable. Afterwards, she prepped his pillow for his head with a gentle prodding and then stood back up. “Now it is time to sleep.” She motioned her right hand to the bed with a sweep. “I will wake you as soon as Rochie comes home.”

  He gave a gentle caress to her left cheek and then climbed into bed.

  “You are too sweet to me child.” He lied down.

  She watched him carefully as he did.

  “I will tell mother that you are at rest when I go back down stairs.”

  “Thank you my dear.”

  She nodded with a hefty smile as he closed his eyes.

  She then left him and closed the door to his bedchamber quietly. She headed down the stairs to the bottom floor, and stepped out into the living room and found her mother, Louisa standing by a sofa in the center of the room.

  The home looked like family. It looked typical for anything a human would use, which only made sense because Louisa was human after all. Her father was too, well, he used to be.

  “Is he at rest?” She watched her daughter come into the room. She always cared for her father like no one ever could, and this included herself. She felt thankful for this. She was human after all and wouldn’t live forever. She was now approaching sixty years old. For this time and place, she was very old. He would need his daughter after she passed. They all would.

  Rana gave her a gracious bow. “He is mother.” She moved past her to the large single window at the front of the room. She looked out the window with a sense of unease. “Has Rochie not returned yet?” She didn’t see him. He had been gone for two days now and she was beginning to worry. Her family had never felt so empty. She feared it. She feared the darkness that was now their home.

  “He has not.” Louisa watched her long and beautiful black hair that came down to the bottom of her back. It looked like silk with its shine. It looked like the finest weave one would ever make. “You must not worry so much for your brother Rana. He has grown into a fine and powerful man. He can care for himself, just as you can.” She bowed her head and held her hand in front of her long brown dress. Being the wife of a turned Walker gave her many things, but the best of these was her clothing. She loved it so much the fine things they were allowed to own.

  Rana turned from the window and to her mother again, but suddenly, and quite shockingly, a voice boomed inside her mind. It sounded like a pounding hammer smacking steal. It even seemed to echo through her skull. Instantly, and without question she knew who it was.

  “Rochie?”

  I did not do what they have accused me of sister. You must never believe it. You must never believe what they will try to say.

  His voice sounded scared. He sounded worried. He sounded like every bad feeling one could ever have at once.

  “What are you talking about brother? What must I never believe?” She had no idea what he was trying to say. She spoke these words inside her mind. Since birth, and more before, they always spoke to each other within their minds. They could do it easily. As they have gotten older, this gift had faded some, but it was still there. It was still strong. She had become used to hearing his voice inside her mind.

  Lord Devish has lied about me. He has turned the past against me—why I do not know, but he has. You must not believe what he will tell you.

  “I do not understand. What has he lied about?” She watched her mother’s face turn nearly white. She of course knew of her gifts, and watching her own face must have told her that she was then thinking to Rochie. Her worry for that conversation must not have looked good at all.

  Believe in me sister. Please believe in me.

  “What is it that you want of me? What do you want me to do?”

  I need you to come to Devish’s home. I need you to speak for me. He will no longer listen to what I have to say.

  She heard this and swallowed a dry mouth. Whatever happened, it was bad.

  “I will come, brother. I will help you if I can, but you must tell me everything. You have to tell me what went wrong.”

  She heard his voice sigh. He obviously didn’t want to do this, get her involved like this, and it showed. This made her feel even worse. It meant that he was in danger more than he ever was before. Why else would he take the chance like this? She didn’t know, but she only hoped to find out.

  She did. He told her everything. He showed her everything he saw. He told her everything that he truly did know.

  Then suddenly everything stopped. The echo ended just fast as it had begun. Quickly his voice vanished, and it made her feel empty again.

  “Rochie?” This time she spoke out his name. “Rochie, come back to me.”

  Louisa didn’t like any of this at all. “What is wrong Rana? What has happened?” she needed to know. She felt a sudden urge to cry for him, but she didn’t know why. She just did, and it was all she had left.

  Rana felt her eyes water and her mind go suddenly blank. She didn’t know how to answer her. She didn’t know what else to say. “Something has happened.” She moved from the window, passed her mother, and headed to the stairs.

  Louisa stopped her before she climbed them. “What has happened? Where are you going?” Her mind flashed. It boomed. She felt herself breaking down.

  Rana did stop freely. “I have to wake father. He will help me find out.” Her determination exploded. She didn’t have any other choice but to try.

  She climbed the stairs. She went into her father’s room. She told him everything, and as always, he agreed to help her.

  They would leave as soon as they were ready to go.

  29

  Kenar and Shandra rode all day. They said nothing really the entire time.

  For Shandra this was normal.

  For Kenar, he needed the time to think. Nothing felt real for him, and he didn’t know why. When he was with Rochie back in the village after taking Satar, he saw what he had thought and it didn’t match what he saw in Devish’s castle. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he did know one thing. One of them was not telling him the truth. Both memories couldn’t be right, but yet he saw them. He felt them. It just didn’t make sense. He had never known either of them for telling a lie. It wasn’t in their nature. Devish was an Elder, so he doubted that he would make a lie, and as for Rochie, well he knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t do it either. This thought alone made him question everything. He just knew that there was an answer to this somewhere, and it lay with the one person that knew Rochie the best. He had to find Rana. She would know, he felt sure of this, but first, he had to bring Jameson back to the Elders. Then he planned to see her. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be too late. He couldn’t risk losing his friend if that friend was innocent. None of them could.

  As soon as night fell, they found themselves back at the village gate, when they were forced to stop. It seemed that Devish’s attack caused more problems than he realized at first.

  “Who rides there?” a man asked, as he stood at the side of the gate’s entrance. He carried a heavy sword. He was large. He looked intimidating and was.

  Kenar seeing again, acknowledged him quickly. “I am Kenar. This is Shandra. We have come to visit Jameson.” He saw another large man on the other side of the gate, and likewise noticed that he too was armed. He carried a pike, a sharp spear on the end of a large pole, and he held it out in front of him and looked ready to use i
t if he had the chance.

  The first man, the one that asked the question, raised his sword.

  “Jameson is not ready for visitors.” He sounded stern, almost strong.

  Kenar noticed that the man was nothing of the kind. In fact, he felt absolutely terrified that they were there. He was sure of nothing else.

  “I assure you that it is important that we speak with him.” He almost added the wishes of the Walkers, but after seeing the man’s thoughts, and knowing that Jameson had been injured in Devish’s attack and that was the reason for them being armed, he decided against it. Now was not the time to start another fight, one they were sure was coming again.

  The other man stepped to the horse, and let the pike come to within inches of the horse’s throat.

  “You are Wanderers, are you not?”

  Kenar saw that he was ready to kill the horse. He saw the man’s hatred for what they were. He understood him doing it too.

  “We are.” He took a breath and readied himself for their next move, which he still saw as fear. They were afraid of attacking them, even if they were putting on a good show at it too. “I promise you that we are here for a reason. We need to visit with him. We mean him no harm.”

  The two men looked at each other, wondering what to do next.

  Kenar felt thankful for this. He was about to say something else, trying hard to reassure them, but another mind came to him from the other side of the wall. When the man showed himself, he only nodded to him with a smile. The man intended to allow them inside.

  “You are Kenar, the Seer of the north?” Donte returned the nod. He felt thankful that they now wouldn’t have to make the trip to see him. Jameson was in no shape to make such a journey. His broken arm just wouldn’t allow it.

  Kenar nodded again. “I am.” He saw Jameson in his mind and knew that this was the way inside. He had to use it. “I can mend his arm.” He wasn’t all too sure if he could. He wasn’t a healer like Rana. She could set, move, and repair anything that lived.

  Donte agreed. “Let them enter.” He looked to the man on his right. He then turned to the one on his left. “Make sure they are not armed.” He looked back to the woman and man on the horse. “Make them walk inside. I have never seen a Wanderer move faster than a human.”

  Kenar agreed and immediately climbed down from the horse. He walked to the gate.

  “I thank you gentlemen.” He stopped, turned and waited for Shandra to join him, which she did so quickly.

  Donte led them down that same street, and headed to the center of the village. It may have been the same street, but now it looked quaint. There were no bodies. Death was no longer on the air. Fear, however, was alive and well. The homes looked quiet and serene. Several people carrying weapons of many different types were out and guarding the streets. Most of them had pitchforks, while some carried ordinary hoes and other farming tools. Everyone’s thoughts were nothing but dread.

  Arriving at the Keep, Donte stopped them at the front steps.

  “Only you Kenar are to enter. The female can wait outside.” He forced his voice low. He was young after all, and it made him sound tougher. At least to him anyway, because they didn’t believe that he was.

  Shandra looked at Kenar with full concern.

  A look he didn’t share. “It will be alright Shandra. They will not harm me.” He turned back to the boy. “I am ready.”

  Donte did nothing, but turn and head up the stairs and inside the Keep.

  Kenar followed him closely, having to grab him by the belt now that he was inside.

  Donte surprisingly let him do it. He didn’t know why, only that he must have known that he was blind. This worried him some. He apparently knew him better than he did him.

  Arriving in the great hall, just to the right of the front door, they thankfully entered a room with windows in it. With the moonlight coming through it, he could see them again. He felt relieved with this.

  Jameson was the only one in the room. He was sitting on a chair at the far end of a long table that sat in the center of the hall. His aura was blinking some, fading in and out. He was hurt worse than he thought he was.

  “The Wanderer has come to us Jameson.” Donte motioned with his right arm to the table.

  Kenar acknowledged him and moved to the table with care.

  “Chief Jameson, thank you for allowing my visit.” He greeted the young man, and watched him closely. He saw him holding his arm. He saw the obvious pain written all over his life’s force. “I have heard that you were injured.” He took a chair closest to him and grabbed the back of it with both hands. With the moonlight out this brightly, he could see their auras as bright as the light. It caused other objects without life to cast shadows around them. It helped him to find the chair and hold it tightly.

  Jameson watched him through his pain. “Why have you come here Wanderer?” He was simply curious.

  Kenar read the boy’s thoughts. It took some effort because of his pain. Pain was hard, and it caused the mind to become unhinged some. It made it that much harder to focus through its noise. When he did see it, he saw his rage. He saw his anger for what had been done to him, his father, and his sister. He saw everything as clearly as the day ever looked to one’s own eyes.

  “I am sorry for your loss young Jameson.” Seeing this, he did feel it. It was the first time he felt something so clearly coming from a human. The boy’s feelings felt natural to him. They came to him powerfully clear. He meant what he said and was going to say. “Your sister is safe. She has not been harmed.”

  Jameson looked up, wanted to stand up, but the pain locked him in place. His legs were just too weak to move.

  “You have seen her?” He spoke his shaking words instead. At first, he thought the Wanderer was toying with him, but a second thought changed his mind. He didn’t know why, but it did, and it was enough for him.

  “I know she is safe. She is with our lord Satar.” Kenar shrugged his shoulders softly.

  “He is the one who took away my father.” Jameson’s eyes grew so large they looked as if they were going to consume his face. He felt that old sensation of rage fly through him again with it. “She is with him.”

  Kenar saw the rage flare. He felt so much more than that.

  He could see his sister standing at the gate of the village. She was talking with him about going to the calling of the elder children of the chiefs. He saw her face in the dimming sun. He saw her eyes glisten. He felt his love for her.

  He had to blink to get her face out of his mind. It was hard to do. She felt so real. She felt so strong. She felt like everyone he had ever known over his entire life. Humans have something more than I had ever thought they had. They have a connection inside them. He looked hard and saw something that nearly blew him away. They have a soul. He couldn’t fathom it at first. He couldn’t almost acknowledge that it was there, but yet, it was. He felt it. He heard it. It was just like his, like theirs, the Wanderers. It was right there echoing around inside the boy’s mind. It was bouncing through him like a pounding boom.

  Realizing this, he stared the boy down.

  “How is this possible?” he whispered. His voice sounded as shallow as did his mind. The echo wouldn’t allow him much more than this.

  Jameson saw his face turn nearly white as if all blood had suddenly vanished from his every cell. It was strong enough to allow the rage to fade away.

  It helped Kenar to think again—to see again.

  “You have a soul. You have a life within a life,” he still whispered. He still gathered.

  “What?” Jameson blinked hard. To say that he felt dumbfounded would have been an understatement if there ever were one. The fact was he felt confused beyond words.

  Kenar turned to the other humans in the room.

  Donte felt the same way as the boy. He felt his life force. He felt his aura sparkle. He felt his mind and saw the echo. He felt and saw the soul.

  “You all have one. You all have one inside you.” He
looked back to the floor. “How was this never seen before?” he asked his own flabbergasted mind. “I should have been able to see it, but I never had. I should have known.” He looked back to Jameson. He looked at Donte. He saw both of them, as he never had before. He saw them as just like him. He saw them as the same as he had ever dreamed he was.

  Donte stepped to Jameson’s side, and turned to his friend and chief.

  “What is he speaking about?”

  He had no idea.

  Kenar lowered his head. “I am sorry.” He knew that he had to say something, if not just for them, but for himself too. “I have not realized something about you, about humans before.” He raised his head again. He took several steps towards them, felt their uneasiness with what he was saying—acting, and kept them at only three. “I am not sure what it means.” His eyes went down again. “It does mean something.”

  Donte watched Jameson wince, again in pain, and spoke for his friend instead. In all honesty, he wanted to talk anyway. He had no idea what he was hearing, and he needed to find out.

  “I do not understand what you are trying to say Wanderer.” He looked as confused as his face showed. He had always known some things about Kenar. He of course knew about his gifts, hell that’s why he wanted Jameson to go and find him in the first place, but now, seeing that gift, hearing it in action, he felt surprised with how strong it was. How confusing he was too.

  Kenar laughed openly with this. He didn’t have the choice. In all actuality, it helped him to clear his mind even more than he ever thought it would. When he finished it, he began with a simple acknowledgement first, “It seems that we Wanderers have more in common with humans than I ever thought we did.” He kept his face feeling light. He kept his smile.

  “I have no idea what you are speaking of Wanderer.” Donte could only shake his head with hearing this. He looked back to Jameson again.

  He kept his head down.