by Cloe Cullen
Forcing himself to sigh and focus, Jorah slapped his chilled cheeks and marched forward over the beaten snow field. Covered in a heavy fur coat and insulated trousers, Jorah was far from cold, but yet his fingertips still tingled with the wind chills and his breath stung the air with its cloudy form.
In the distance, Jorah spotted another cave mouth, hidden behind a mess of spruce trees. Just above the treeline a trail of smoke could be seen, and Jorah smiled as the smell of charred wood drifted his way.
He strolled forward, a grin growing on his face. It wasn’t unusual for Jorah to be the last one to arrive, the idea even becoming a running joke between him and his group of close friends. Whatever the case, he sure wasn’t first this time.
As he got closer, the mouthwatering scents of cooked meat filled his nose, causing him to drool slightly, his stomach churning and growling at him, reminding him of his hunger. Jorah hadn’t eaten since the moment he woke before dawn, and now it was too late to go back to Dallan for the salamander soup he always made for early supper. Reaching the trees, Jorah zigzagged along the fresh trail made through the snow; because of how high the mountains were, snow regularly made its appearance, covering paths and trails his clan often used, so new ones were constantly being created.
A bonfire just in front of the cave mouth caught his gaze first when Jorah broke through the trees, it’s licking flames embracing him, even from a few dozen feet back. Logs were set up around the fire, placed to make a triangle around the fire. Two individuals sat at opposite ends. One was thin and small, his light chocolate skin freckled and matching the heavy fur garments draping over his body. His nearly bald head glistened next to the fire, and his young, cheery voice never ceased.
“...and then the eagle swooped in, catching both fish from my bare hands! But being the clever man I am, I looped a loose rope around the eagle’s neck just as he grabbed my fish and took it down! Now I have those treats waiting on ice back in my cave.” The thin man smiled from ear to ear. “I could cook it all up sometime for you, Nyx, if you ever want to come over and just hang out. The two of us. I may not be as good a cook as Keanu over there, but I’m not too shabby.”
The ashen-haired woman sitting across from him giggled as she tore off a chunk of recently cooked meat from a stick. “Now, that I’m not too sure about, Finn. The last time I ate something you cooked I was sick in bed for a week. Maybe try something else if you want to impress me.”
Like a beautiful ghost, the woman’s snowy skin and pale lips combined with her dark hazel eyes to create a deathly beautiful creature. Her curvy, yet muscular figure was covered entirely in a maroon shawl and thick leather garments. The ashen hair above her head was intricately woven and braided, and she looked like a goddess. Her beauty once captured Jorah, when his young mind was still caught up in the superficial aspects of love, but now he was a changed man, or so he liked to believe.
Nyx was the first to spot Jorah standing still and silent, away from the fire, her eyes lighting up and her smile brightening. “Well, well, look who decided to show up.” With a voice like a fine thick ale, Jorah could listen to her speak all day. He needed to keep reminding himself that he wouldn’t, though. She patted the log next her, a sly grin forming on her lips. “Come on and sit with us, Jorah.”
“Jorah?” Finn said curiously. Looking up, he did a double-take. “Wow, seriously? I thought you might have decided to not come today.”
Jorah chuckled. “Yeah, right, and miss this feast?” Taking Nyx’s advice, Jorah strolled forward, but sat on a different log from hers entirely, causing Nyx’s face to drop slightly. “At least I’m not last...though it’s not like Keanu to be late.”
Finn laughed and throw a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s already here. Who do you think cooked all this?”
“Certainly not you,” Jorah commented, peering past Finn to the mouth of the cave. Sure enough, a hulking, broad figure crouched near the entrance to the cave, using a stick to stir the contents of a metal pot over a tiny fire. Long, dirty blonde hair covered most of the man’s face and neck, but when he glanced over Jorah could see his unblinking eyes and deadpan expression. He waved a single meaty hand and then went back to cooking. “Quiet as always, aren’t you, Keanu?”
“So, what took you so long?” Nyx slid over as she spoke, to get closer to Jorah. She leaned towards him, wearing a knowing smile. “Let me guess, it had something to do with Dallan again?”
Jorah nodded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep the events of his life from his best friends. They were always too good at knowing the details of his life before he could even mention them.
Finn spit out a tiny bone from his meal, juice running down his chin. He spoke as he ate. “Man, I can’t imagine what it’s like to live with those stuffy old Seers. I’d go insane after one day. There’s always ‘mountain this’ and ‘mountain that’, it’s enough to suffocate someone.”
Jorah bellowed in laughter and clapped Finn on the back, causing him to gag and jerk forward. “Lucky for me I only live with one, and he’s the easiest of the nine to get along with. Not to mention he cooks some delicious stews every once in a while.”
While he wasn’t looking, Nyx had suddenly moved closer to him, now within an arm’s length. “Did you two argue? I swear it’s like you two argue every other day, and every time it gets louder and louder. You realize some of us in the clan like to sleep at night, right?”
Jorah shrugged. “I’m not the one who starts them. I would move out of the cave, if there was one that wasn’t already taken by another.”
Nyx blinked. “You could always stay with me, like all those years ago.”
Throwing more tiny bones into the bonfire, Finn glanced quizzically at Nyx. “What about me? I’d love to stay at your place.”
“I didn’t ask you, Finn.”
“But you can.”
“And I won’t,” Nyx growled. She glanced back at Jorah, who flicked his eyes between the two; watching his friends banter was often the highlight of their time together, and it never grew old for him. “So, how about it?”
Shaking his head, he stared into the fire. “No, I’m fine. I haven’t been a child for almost a decade now, so I’ve learned to live with the old coot. Besides, Dallan still has some charm.”
Finn doubled-over in laughter. “You hear that Nyx? That old Seer is more charming than you!”
“That isn’t what he said, and you know it!” Nyx said, letting her temper get to her.
Jorah couldn’t help but smile now. There was something about these shifters that always put his mind at ease. Bickering and communing around an open fire in the middle of the day...it was like a small family, something Dallan couldn't give him. Once before, when Jorah was still young, he resented Dallan for that fact, that he couldn’t provide Jorah with loved ones to look after him, with siblings to pal around and explore with. Dallan was a Seer even then, and his role as one of their clan’s leaders always took him away from Jorah, leaving him alone to wander the Northern Mountains, to grow an interest in what lay beyond the snowy peaks. That curiosity led him to Nyx first.
He remembered the first day they met, when he caught Nyx bathing in a cold basin just beyond a waterfall on the very edge of their territory. It was just another day of exploring, and then he saw her, young and beautiful and elegant, only a year younger than him already having so much more than he ever did. Competing regularly with three older siblings, hunting racoons and elk with her parents and friends, having steaming meals in caves full of noise and chaos. Nyx was a wonder to Jorah back then, but now things were different, and as he caught Nyx staring at him once again, guilt racked him for how they ended their relationship all those years ago.
To get the past out of his mind, he shook himself like a rabid dog and pretend to be cold, clutching his arms and shaking. “All I want is some hot food right about now, to quench the angry beast known as hunger, within me!”
Rolling his eyes, Finn finished his meal and threw the remaining, mass
ive bone into the fire. “There he goes again, pretending to be a poet.”
Jorah didn’t get a chance to make a retort, as a giant presence behind him made him straighten and look over his shoulder. Keanu shoved a dripping hunk of meat plastered onto a bone into Jorah’s face. “Here,” he simply said. After, Keanu walked around to the opposite side of the fire and let himself fall onto the log, his weight nearly cracking the thing in two.
Jorah smiled and raised the meat to Keanu in thanks. “Thank you, Keanu! Honestly, what would we do without you?”
The big man smiled, showing his ragged teeth beneath a neatly trimmed beard, but didn’t say another word. Taking that as his chance to finally put some grub in his belly, Jorah bit down into the meat, letting the hot juices flow down his throat, the salty tough meat setting his taste buds on fire. Keanu’s cooking was so good that while the others continued to tell tales and banter, Jorah focused entirely on mowing through his meal. By the end he patted his belly, the cozy full feeling warming his body and soul.
“So, what now?” Nyx asked, as Jorah focused back on the conversation. “We still have plenty of daylight left. Any ideas on how we should spend the rest of our time today?” She glanced around. As usual Keanu didn’t say anything, but instead shrugged and chugged the soup from his now cooled metal pot. Finn’s eyes narrowed, and he stroked his chin, swaying left and right to think of something. But it was Jorah who spoke up.
“Why don’t we travel down the mountain?”
Chapter Four: Nyssa
“ You know, they say that the Bear Clan is still alive somewhere,” Lowell said out of the blue.
Nyssa raised an eyebrow at her friend as they trekked out of Gray Creek. They dipped into and out of foliage, up and over tiny hills that hid small roots that tripped up Lowell more than once. The trip to meet her brother and the others going out to search for Changelings in the Oldwood was proving to be frustrating, and Nyssa made a mental note to berate her brother for placing the meeting point for volunteers so far from the main hub of Gray Creek. “That old rumor? It’s been circulating for years, even before we were born, Lowell. Don’t tell me you just found out about it.”
“Not at all! I’ve heard those baseless rumors just as anyone of the clans have. Even those cat shifters from the Pride have the same oral tradition of sharing the tale about how a few remnants of the Bear Clan survived the destruction of their homeland.” Lowell glanced off into the distance, squinting at nothing in particular. “The thought just crossed my mind. You think any of it’s true?”
“If the Bear Clan was still alive somewhere, we would have made contact with them by now. It’s been over fifty years since the Vampires arrived from the sea.” Yeah, that was right. Surely either the Pack or the Pride would have gotten wind of something like an entire people somehow surviving somewhere between the Blackwood and the Northern Mountains.
Her comment didn’t seem to dissuade Lowell from speculating, though. “But I’ve heard some say that the Bear Clan actually moved up to the Northern Mountains, or even beyond the mountains to whatever’s on the other side. No one alive today has ever made the trip up and over and ever come back.”
The Northern Mountains, a snowy region that rested in the skies. Clouds always covered its peaks, and Nyssa had looked up to them in wonder ever since she was a child. What Lowell was suggesting was nothing more than a child’s fantasy, Nyssa knew, a way to get her mind back into the present and off of Darius and Amara. His ploy was so easy to pick through it was almost laughable. “Tales from those who never made the journey.”
“But it’s true that everyone who’s tried has never been seen again,” Lowell continued. “What do you think happened to them? Did they get captured and eaten by monsters hiding atop the mountains? Did they meet the Bear Clan and decide to live with them? Or did they find something so wondrous on the other side that they simply couldn’t bring themselves to ever come back to the Oldwood? Or did every single traveler simply perish from the harsh trek?”
Nyssa couldn’t stop herself from grinning at Lowell’s words. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to lend an ear to these tales after all, despite how universally the rumors were disregarded as nothing but tall tales from the elderly with nothing else to do but scare children.
Their conversation ended quickly as they finally came upon a female shifter walking ahead of them in the woods. If there was a shifter this far out, then Remus had to be nearby. Catching up to the shifter, she confirmed her thoughts and followed a thin path carved out of the trees. Soon enough they stepped into a clearing overflowing with shifters, both wolf and cat alike. At the head of the group stood none other than Remus himself.
Tall, and filling out his clothes nicely, her brother was just as handsome as ever. Radiant blonde hair swept over his head in thick locks, allowing his ocean blue eyes to glare out at the crowd before him. Usually every other morning Remus shaved off the stubble of hair that grew from his jaw and chin, but today she saw he hadn’t, giving himself a gruff look. Lowell nudged Nyssa and pointed to a group of female shifters just off to their right. They were quietly whispering amongst themselves about her brother.
“Isn’t he just gorgeous?” One said.
“Ah, what I wouldn’t give to be his mate,” a second said.
“Just imagine what he would like without that stuffy jerkin covering his body!” The third said.
Rolling her eyes at Lowell’s grin, she turned away from the group of women. It must have been nice to have his pick of the litter...not that Nyssa could really complain. There were plenty of male shifters who regularly sought Nyssa out. Luckily, there hadn’t been many recently, other than Lowell, who’d follow her to the moon and back if he could.
Lowell leaned into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “Just imagine how Remus must feel to so many options, and then be bugged by that thing standing next to him.”
To her surprise, Nyssa hadn’t noticed who was standing right beside Remus until Lowell had pointed her out. Bronwen the Vampire, pale and tall and lanky as ever, her blood red eyes watching Remus, clutching her arms behind her back and smiling sweetly. Her dark brown hair cascaded down behind in curls, growing lighter as they reached the small of her back. Clad in a strange, dark dress, Bronwen certainly stood out like a thorny rose among a bed of lilacs. When she had first met Bronwen, Nyssa had reacted rather fearfully, hiding behind Remus, unable to stop trembling at the sight of a Vampire. But now she didn’t tremble in the slightest, her mind calm, even going so far as to feel relieved that Bronwen was still around.
Over the past few years, Bronwen had been working her way up to destroying Nyssa’ fear of her and Vampire-kind. First Bronwen would just stand within sight of Nyssa, allowing her to get used to the idea of staring at a Vampire; then she would remain in the same room as Nyssa; then she would make small talk; finally, they began to talk regularly. Whenever Bronwen was back in Gray Creek, the two sought each out to chat, mostly about their love lives. Nyssa knew Bronwen was simply doing it to gain better favor with Remus at first, but she liked to think now they spoke because they genuinely liked each other.
“Don’t call her a ‘thing’, Lowell,” Nyssa growled. “She’s a friend to our people.”
Crossing his arms, Lowell tapped his foot. “I was just saying...she follows Remus around like a pet, like-”
“Like you follow me? I guess owning pets runs in the family.”
“Ouch, okay, maybe I deserved that one,” Lowell said woefully.
But Nyssa knew he’s reaction wasn’t unique. Others in the Pack and Pride have voiced similar concerns, even after two years of peace. Should Vampires really be able to just waltz into their land whenever they wanted? It was a topic widely discussed these days. Even some of the shifters in front of Nyssa whispered about Bronwen. It took everything in Nyssa’ power not to pummel them right then and there.
“Alright, alright!” Remus’ booming voice shouted over the buzz of the group, causing everyone to snap to attention instantly.
Despite not being the Alpha, Remus still commanded much more respect than shifters gave him credit for. Even as the simple son of the previous Alpha, Remus had learned much in the way of leading, a trait Nyssa was proud of. “Let’s get started already, we’ve waited long enough. As you all know, there are still Changelings that come up from the Blackwood and wander the forest, even after everything that has happened. These Changelings are of unknown origin, and for some reason don’t rush to attack people, but stay at a distance, watching us.” He glanced at Bronwen, who nodded her go-ahead. “My friend here has been in talks with the other Vampire Lords of the Blackwood, and is trying to figure out who these Changelings belong to. It can’t be Orpheus, since he’s dead. But while we wait on news from the Vampire’s end, we’ll chase them away from our homes in the meantime.”
Taking a quick breath, he glanced around the crowd, his gaze finding Nyssa, and frowning slightly.
She knew that look, it meant he’d probably lecture her about coming to volunteer to chase Changelings. Not that Nyssa would listen; it wasn’t that she didn’t care about her brother’s worries, but rather the worries were pointless. Changelings appeared more frequently than anyone would like, and they could appear anywhere. There was no point in lecturing her about Changeling encounters that happened by chance.
“We’ll all split up into packs of at least five. For you cat shifters who are graciously joining us today, that means groups. We at Gray Creek hunt together, for safety, strength, and strategy. I’m not going to pick your groups for you, so you can find others and spread out through the forest. Just be sure to cover as much ground around Gray Creek as possible.”