by S. K. Benton
With that the entire great hall was on their feet, heads pointed to the sky, howling at the waning gibbous moon, that is, the moon that had just recently been full. This was actually a good thing, as Max and Jennie had well over a month to train before experiencing their first full transformation. The three stepped out onto the platform overlooking the great hall, and waved awkwardly. Draagh actually shot his clenched fist up into the air, causing uproarious cheers from the lycans. Then all three walked over and took their places at either side of Krynos at the main table, with Max alone on one side and Jennie seated with Draagh on the other. She had no desire to sit next to Max – at all.
Draagh then stood up and loudly addressed all in attendance, bellowing, “Attention all lycans of the Rhönen Dominion! I present to you, in the name of our king Krynos – the feast!”
With that, he slammed his staff into the ground, and every plate and every goblet filled instantly with delicious mead and meat, respectively.
At once the entire hall fell into a state of silence. All of the lycans, Krynos, Jennie and Max looked at their place settings. Everyone’s goblet was filled, overstuffed with steaming-hot animal flesh, while their plates were spilling over with amber-colored mead, the Dominion's signature fortified wine.
Krynos whispered to his old friend saying, “Brother, your spell is backwards!”
Draagh looked down, taken aback, his eyes instantly growing big as he noticed his error and said, “Oh my! I shall correct this straight away!” He then slammed his staff down on the ground twice – once for clearing the plates and goblets, and then once for yet again filling them, albeit this time correctly. Then, while looking out at the silent attendance hall, he said loudly “Eat, my brothers and sisters!”
Everyone in attendance tore into their plates, including Jennie. That is, everyone, with the exception of Max, who was still looking around for silverware with which to properly cut his meat. Draagh saw Max’s perplexed look, so he waved his hand, conjuring a simple fork and knife at the sides of Max’s plate. As Max took his fork and diddled around with his food, he looked over on the other side of where King Krynos was seated and saw Jennie eating with her bare hands, just like the other lycans. At first he found it mildly disgusting, having been raised to use proper table etiquette, but at the same time he thought it was rather sexy. However, the most disconcerting part of it all is that he looked out to see other male Dominion pack members watching her, causing him to become highly territorial. In fact, a low, involuntary growl emanated from the back of his throat.
Jennie looked out, scanning the crowd, as she shoved ample quantities of meat into her mouth and chewed furiously. She hadn’t eaten in roughly a day, and was famished to say the least. Numerous lycans attracted her eye, but none captured it, even though they kept staring at her with hopeful looks of interest. Lycan women tended to be beautiful to the extreme - in comparison to normals and especially vampires, but Jennie was above and apart. Max looked out at the crowd, but he was thinking of other things, like the recent revelation that Charles Gunnarsson was not his father. He had loved his parents immensely, but always knew in his heart that his resemblance, both physical and spiritual, was with Clarisa, and not Charles. He was, -using a slang term - a momma’s boy. He wanted to feel betrayed, but could not, because he had gained a grandfather. A very special grandfather.
The celebration went on for some hours, with lycan males dancing on the tables, playing a friendly game which consisted of taking whatever they could get their hands on and trying to knock their closest opponent unconscious, all in an apparent attempt to impress the young dega seated at Krynos’ table. Max watched Draagh, who clapped his hands and laughed with great amusement, obviously enjoying the spectacle. Not minding the display of testosterone himself, Max sipped his mead and nibbled of barely-cooked chunks of venison, while Jennie watched all of the competing males with a mild interest.
At the end of the feast, all three were taken to private quarters, which each having their own room. The rooms themselves were not overly large, but quite adequate. In fact, both Jennie and Max found their rooms to be quite nice, as they were accustomed to military-style housing, which was extremely small in comparison. Studying his room, he saw that it had a washroom and lavatory facility. Having come from a highly advanced civilization where sanitary needs were taken care of by technology, he cringed at the thought of having an ancient restroom in his quarters. Keeping this in mind, he didn’t expect much, save for a rancid smell upon entering his small toilet. However, to his surprise, there was absolutely no scent whatsoever – it smelled as if it had never been used before. He later found that, although this new world looked like Earth of the Middle Ages, it had certain amenities, such as running water, sanitation and irrigation that were all made possible by magic.
While Jennie and Draagh had passed out almost immediately, Max stood by his window, which overlooked the Black Forest. Thinking over everything that had happened to him in the past couple of days, he started to wonder if he really was dead, but then pinched himself and came to the mildly painful conclusion that it was all very real. So many revelations in such a short period of time – he was a lycan and a mage, Charles Gunnarsson was not his father, and his bio-dad was what Draagh called the Taxiarch – some sort of advanced being. To top it all off, his grandfather was an immortal toaster-head with amazing magical abilities.
The waning moon seemingly hung in mid-air, and all was silent, with the exception of the snoring of the now sleeping revelers. His new and improved hearing made sure that he could even count the number of people sleeping within earshot. He made a mental note to learn how to tune down his amplified senses, as sleep would not come easily to him that night.
Restless, he snuck out of his room, and tiptoed down the hallway, coming to Jennie’s quarters. He wanted to see if she was awake, and perhaps see if he could pass a bit of time chatting with her, if she would allow it. She seemed to be slightly warming up to him throughout the day, but was still rather standoffish. He put an ear to the door, which he really didn’t have to do, and as he could not hear any snoring, tapped the large, oaken portal lightly. No answer. So he turned the large, iron handle and slowly pushed the door open. Jennie was in bed, nary making a sound, but what he saw set his heart on fire.
She was lying on her back, bed sheets pushed down, with her legs slightly turned to the side, wearing nothing but a white, military-regulation tank top and light blue panties. Her perfectly-shaped bosom slowly rose and lowered with each gentle breath, while she wore a look of complete peace on her beautiful, sleeping face. He cautiously stepped in to get a closer look, and noticed her black hair, laid out, almost perfectly, on her fluffy, white pillow. He had never really noticed her hair before, as it was previously pulled back into a ponytail, but the sight was like something out of a holo-advert he had seen as a youth. Simply standing there and staring at her, he noticed her face contort slightly and her lips start to purse. She was dreaming! Then she started to move around in her bed, lightly kicking a leg out, her head moving from side to side. Suddenly, she sat up; eyes wide open and looking directly at Max. (*11*)
“Gunnarsson! What the Hell are you doing in my quarters?!?”
Chapter 13 – Training Begins
“Umm, I, uh, heard something. It’s this damned hearing. I couldn’t sleep, and I was kinda concerned,” Max stammered, although not very convincingly.
Jennie drew her bed sheets up over her lower half, well aware that he could see her panties, and said authoritatively, “Gunnarsson, get out… and don’t ever come in again unless I invite you, you goddamned dweeb.”
“Sorry,” Max said meekly, and departed her chambers, closing the massive door behind him.
Pausing in the hallway he said to himself, “What the Hell was I thinking? She is way beyond anything I could ever…anything. Aw shit, I should just forget about it,” and went back to his room to experience a rather restless sleep.
Jennie sat on her bed, a light coating of
sweat covering her dark, perfect skin. Before she awoke, she was having that same dream, where she was running through the woods and chasing deer, but this time the dream was different - she caught one - she caught one, and tore at its throat with her teeth, resulting in severing the beast’s carotid artery and covering everything in a massive spray of hot, delicious red blood. It was at that moment that she woke up, only to find the interloper Gunnarsson in her room. Sitting there, she turned around slightly; her figure accentuated quite complimentarily in the soft moonlight, and looked out through the window that was above the headboard of her bed.
“Commander,” she thought out loud, “I only hope that you made the right decision sending me here.”
Morning came, and came too soon for Max, but Jennie had rested, as well as Draagh, who never seemed to have any problem sleeping. All three exited their quarters at the same time, being able to hear activities in the others’ rooms. Draagh yawned lightly, stretching his arms out a bit, while Jennie gave Max a look of near-contempt. Noting her facial expression, and then turning to Max, Draagh started the morning’s conversation.
“Well now, my children. Did we sleep well? I certainly hope so, as you shall have a busy day. Yes, a busy day, indeed.”
Jennie simply said, “I’m hungry. Where is the mess hall?”
Max added, “Yeah, I need to get something in my stomach. I didn’t sleep very well at all.”
Draagh motioned to the two for them to follow him down the spacious hallway, where they encountered a back stairway and descended to an area where women were bringing plates of food to men who looked like soldiers, dressed in various types of leather garments, each unique in a slightly different way than the others. Taking their seats at a previously unoccupied table, the three had plates of food set before them – meat (of course), what appeared to be a sort of porridge, and to Jennie’s delight, yerba mate (mah-tay), her favorite non-alcoholic beverage. Max surveyed his morning meal, apparently pleased with its contents, and first took a sip of his drink.
“Mate! I love mate!” he exclaimed. “We never had any in the science division, so we always drank coffee, but when I was young my mom would always prepare some for me on cold days. I even had an antique bombilla from Earth, but could only use it on special occasions,” (a bombilla being a specialized, metal straw with a bulbous end that had numerous holes in it, in order to filter the leaves and stems from the mate infusion).
Surprised, Jennie looked at Max, not having realized he would have known anything about her beloved mate.
“Gunnarsson, you drink mate? It’s my favorite thing to drink, well, besides fernet,” to which she gave him an almost friendly smile.
“Oh yeah, my mom was from Mendoza, in Nueva Argentina, and I was born in Córdoba. It was kind of a cultural thing.”
“No way!” exclaimed Jennie. “I was born in Buenos Aires, in NA! Are you…. part dego?”
Max looked over at Draagh, who nodded his head in the affirmative, and then included, on Max’s behalf, “He would be half dego, from his mother’s side, but quite a different being from his father’s half.”
Then, still looking at Draagh, a most curious and unexpected things came out of Max’s mouth.
“Si, como vos sabés más que nosotros” (yes, as you know more than us).
Jennie looked at Max, completely stunned. There was certainly more to him than she had previously believed, but she still thought he was a bit weak and not worthy of much further attention. He definitely did not fit her ideal of a man, and was a bit of a virtual peeping tom as far as she was concerned. In any case, they were to train together, so, with this new revelation that they were from the same federal state, she decided that she would try and give him a bit more respect from thereon out - but only a bit more. Still, she wanted to ask a few more questions, as they dug into their morning meal.
“So, Gunnarsson, what kind of food do you like? Is there anything at the top of your list?”
Max looked pensive for a moment, and then responded, “Well, of course I love beef. That has to be my favorite, but I also like ancient Peruvian cuisine, such as a good parihuela or lomo saltado,” (the parihuela being a spicy bouillabaisse, chock-full of any kind of sea creature available, and lomo saltado being a dish of juicy beef, tossed with fried potatoes, onions, and tomatoes in a delicious vinegar-like sauce, and served with a side of rice).
Jennie wrinkled her nose a bit, saying, “Eww, I was never much into seafood, but I heard that Earth’s oceans historically had better tasting fish and stuff. Well, at least that’s what my grandfather used to say he had heard.”
Max grinned and went on eating, finishing his porridge, and getting up to leave he looked around for the recycle repository, seeing nothing even remotely close. As he went to grab his plate it was swished out of his hands by an attending lycan female.
“My Lord has finished? We shall care for your place settings.”
Max and Jennie looked at each other with a bit of surprise, and then Jennie stood up from her seat, expecting the same treatment, to which none came. Max, seeking to try and forge a slightly more amicable relationship with his beautiful counterpart, called out loudly to the castle servants
“Excuse me, young lady? Jennie here is a warrior, and is to receive the same attention as the rest of us.”
With that, a different attendant rushed over, apologizing profusely. Apparently there were not many female soldiers in the Rhönen Dominion. Jennie planned on changing that, and rather quickly. Draagh got a big grin while looking at Max, who had a small expression of achievement on his face.
The training grounds were nicely sized – roughly the size of a football (soccer) pitch, 120 by 80 meters, and had what appeared to be workstations of various types. Max and Jennie were split up into different groups, which disconcerted Max, but quite pleased Jennie, who preferred fewer distractions than watching the bumbling scientist stumble about. The two went about training at various workstations, with Jennie occasionally spying on Max, just to see how he was doing. To her surprise, he was quite agile, and easily completed obstacle courses, able to make incredible leaps over various walls and moats, while landing firmly on his feet, more like a feline than a canine. Of course, she had little difficulty at the same time, but was still mildly impressed with his innate athletic skills.
As Max and Jennie continued training, the first day being on skills of athleticism, Draagh met with Krynos in the king’s private offices. Sitting there, the two began discussing the purpose of their visit to the Rhönen Dominion.
“I cannot display enough of my sincere gratitude for your hospitality, my Lord,” said Draagh, “and I am sure that my two young charges are equally grateful.”
Krynos nodded, and then asked, “I would like to know further what your intentions are, as you had only briefly mentioned that you were going to bring a couple of younglings in for training. They are truly from years past?”
“Yes,” responded the old mage, with a look of satisfaction, “I had to thread the needle quite delicately, so to say, in order to get the two into the same location. You see, as I had mentioned last night, Max truly is my grandson, and such an offspring rarely, if ever, comes along. He has the potential to be quite an impressive man, and, given the proper training, will play a great role in preventing the destruction of his home world.”
Krynos gave Draagh an interested look, and asked, “So, tell me about this world from which they come. I assume, as they are lycan, that they are also quite human. Both are handsome, and the female would birth many strong and beautiful pups. The boy, I am sure, would make a fine sire, but his size is not that of our smallest warriors, which could be a concern. As you say he shall play a part in defending his world, how shall he accomplish this, being of relatively small stature?”
Draagh smiled, his blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Their world is called Azul, a planet quite distant from here. His ancestors made a long and arduous journey of over 300 years to arrive there, but once they set f
oot on the planet’s surface they went about creating quite a beautiful and peaceful society.”
“Baah!” said Krynos. “Peaceful? That sounds weak to me!”
“Oh my, no, my good friend, not weak. Not weak at all. You see, their planet has a more powerful gravitational field than this world, so their strength is naturally more than that of someone their size here,” added the wizard, trying to redirect their conversation.
“Gravity? What is this gravity you speak of?” the lycan king inquired.
Draagh continued, “Gravity is a force of nature. It is what keeps your boots on the ground, and to keep you, and everything else, from flying off into space. Remember how I showed you that this world is a giant globe that spins around and circles the sun?”
Krynos looked thoughtful for a moment, and then half-asked/half-replied, “Yes, my friend, I do remember that much. So what you are saying is that the magic that keeps us on the soft earth is stronger where they come from, resulting in them having greater strength than would appear?
Draagh’s eyes lit up a bit, and he simply nodded his head, not wishing to confuse his friend any further, as the concept of gravity was rudimentarily understood. He then stood up and walked around the room slowly, thinking briefly, before addressing Krynos’ rejection of peace.
“My Lord, as you are well aware, the Earth of the past depended highly on technology, of which, for the most part, is unavailable here, except for certain special locations which have been effectively guarded from the overreaching effects of this world’s magic, your sub-chambers being one of those locations. Their world is soon to be besieged by an alien race – the same vile creatures that decimated this planet so many centuries ago, and these two youths are to play a big role in their planet’s defense, which will call for not only the skills and strength of lycans, but also magic and their planet's existing technology. There are others on that world, those of the vampire recessive genes, but they are mostly politicians, cowards and petty thieves and thus cannot be trusted in the defense of an entire planet.”