by Brandon Chen
“Filthy noble,” a deep voice growled. A monstrous creature, with fur the color of night, emerged from the shadows. It stood ten feet tall, towering over Beo. Its snout and face were like that of a wolf, but it stood upright on two legs like a human. The beast bared its dagger-like set of teeth, which were capable of biting the limbs clean off of any beast. Its claws were so sharp that they could shred most metals to pieces. “If it weren’t for these silver bars, I’d be gnawing on your cracked skull right now.”
“That’s why you’re in a cell, werewolf,” Beo said, standing inches from the silver bars. “You’d better watch your tongue around your master, otherwise I’ll have to punish you. How long have you been isolated in this cell? Two centuries now?”
“How dare you call yourself my master? Do you know who I am?” Faelen roared, lashing out at Beo. The very moment that his claws touched the silver bars, a surge of agonizing pain detonated through his body. The palms of the werewolf’s hands, which had briefly grazed the metal, were burning as if they had just been dipped in scorching lava. Doubling over in pain, Faelen darted an irate glare at the noble, his red eyes flashing with rage. “When I escape this accursed chamber, I’ll infect everyone in Horux. Everyone you know will die, including that pampered son of yours. I’ll rip him to shreds and devour him right before your eyes. You’ll see. All of you pathetic humans will finally become the beasts that you’ve feared for so long.”
“Today’s generation has only heard of werewolves in stories. Besides me, no one has even seen one. In fact, you’re the last of your kind,” Beo said calmly, his words striking a blow to Faelen’s heart. “You’re an endangered species, which is the only reason I’m still keeping you alive. That, and ensuring your survival has been a family tradition for generations.”
Faelen slammed his hands on the floor cracking the stone with his tremendous power. “I can’t wait to snuff the lights from your eyes when I escape, you bastard.” The werewolf watched as Beo turned and walked away. It was only seconds before the beast saw the flickering light of the noble’s torch vanish. He lowered his head, grabbing the slab of meat on the ground and raising it to his mouth. Swallowing the food in a single gulp, he plopped himself back onto the ground, smirking. “I know you’re there, skulking in the darkness. Does Beo know that you followed him into his secret catacombs?”
A man walked from the darkness, stepping into the brazier’s light before the ferocious beast. He had hidden in the shadows, skillfully avoiding Beo’s line of vision. The stranger trembled slightly, and Faelen could sense visceral fear shredding this man apart. His face was completely blanched, his skin nearly the color of snow. His brown hair was long and bundled up into a bun, and he wore ebony leather armor that was hidden behind a black cloak. His dark brown eyes stared at the werewolf, his powerful gaze unwavering even though he was absolutely terrified of the creature.
Without a word, he bolted in the opposite direction, fading into the darkness.
***
The man, Archerus, held his hand tightly over his mouth, muffling his heavy breathing. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and sweat streaking down his face. The werewolf’s wrathful roars shook the ground beneath him as he snuck away. Archerus wanted to break into a sprint and get the hell out of the catacombs as soon as possible, but by doing so he would run straight into Beo, who was still unaware of his presence.
It took him thirty minutes to blindly navigate his way through the thick darkness, finally reaching an abandoned cave in the ominous forest just outside of Horux.
Archerus stumbled out of the grotto, immediately crumpling to his knees. The moonlight made the perspiration on his face glisten. He panted, shaking his head in disbelief.
To think that such a monstrous beast really existed. Archerus had heard tales that werewolves once wandered the forest outside of Horux. However, he’d never thought that such rumors could be true. Many nobles noticed that Beo went for a midnight walk every night for the past decade, journeying outside of Horux’s walls and into the eerie forest. Archerus had merely followed Beo out of curiosity. He never expected to find a creature of myth!
I have to tell the townsfolk. They need to know of the beast’s existence! Beo will surely be condemned for his treachery.
Archerus sprinted through the forest in the direction of Horux. The trees around him were all dead and leafless, with drooping branches and bark the color of burned charcoal. Black ravens with gleaming red eyes rested upon the branches of these trees, watching Archerus as he dashed towards Horux with haste. His eyes were wide and his arms flailed, as if he were running away from a beast.
Watching him from the shadows was a silent man, shrouded in a black cloak. The mysterious figure turned his head toward the cave from whence Archerus had come, eying the entrance to Horux’s secret underground catacombs. A small smile split across the man’s lips before he turned away and began to walk deeper into the forest.
Alone with the Moon
Cool mead trickled into Yuri’s mouth, tickling his throat with its bitter taste. Smacking his lips, he set his mug down on the table of the pub. Fast fiddle music fused together with the boisterous sounds of singing drunkards and laughing fools to create a cacophony of sound that hurt Yuri’s eardrums. He sighed and lowered his head. After spending several days with Asmund’s polite family, returning to a chaotic environment such as this was unsettling.
Yuri spun a gold coin on the table and leaned his face against his palm, pressing his elbow against the hard wood of the table. He bit his lower lip, watching as the coin spun. I’ll get used to it again, I always do.
There was a loud bang at the entrance of the tavern and the entire building suddenly went silent. Yuri’s coin clattered to the table’s surface.
All of the drunken men and women in the pub stared at an exhausted stranger that was doubled over, gasping for air. The man wore a black cloak that curled around his body, covering his leather armor. His long hair was undone, causing it to cascade over his face. “Listen to me!” he panted, even though he already had the attention of everyone in the tavern. “Werewolves … they aren’t just myths. They really do exist, there is one underneath the city … I saw it!”
A chorus of laughter arose from a crowd of drunks near the tavern’s entrance. The stranger stared at the nearby group of guffawing men, shocked that they did not believe him. “Beo, the noble, is the one that has the beast locked up! Please, you must believe me! We are living so close to an infectious creature that could turn us all into abominations if it is let loose!”
“Aren’t you a bit old to be believing tales of werewolves, Archerus?” said a man standing in the tavern’s main doorway. The newcomer was clad in shining metal armor that covered him from neck to toe. His helmet was gripped in his right gauntlet, resting at his side. A red cape streamed down his back, grazing the wooden floor of the pub. Over his iron chest plate was a dark-blue tabard, bearing the majestic insignia of a white wolf woven into the fine fabric.
Yuri took another swig of his mead as he watched the knight. The tabard that the warrior wore was a sign that he worked directly for the king of Horux, it was only worn by the city’s greatest warriors. Yuri tapped his chin, feeling that he recognized this man from somewhere. That’s it! He’s the stern man that was standing next to Princess Violet during the arena match. Yuri narrowed his eyes. So, what’s he doing here? We’re in Horux’s Lower District. No one here likes members of the upper class.
“I’m telling you the truth,” Archerus insisted, turning to face the knight. “It is so like you to make judgments before you see the proof, Senna.”
“You won’t be showing any proof because werewolves do not exist. Now, silence. I am not here for you,” Senna growled, pushing Archerus aside like an unwanted toy as he entered the silent pub. Three armed guards, men that also worked for the king, clanked through the doorway behind their superior officer.
The royal knight’s gaze met Yuri’s, sending a subtle chill creeping through h
is skin. “I’m here for today’s champion, Yuri.”
“Yuri?” Archerus grumbled, watching as the three soldiers walked past him. “You care nothing for the wellbeing of the people if you let something like this slide, Senna! A vicious beast lives beneath the streets of Horux. I can show you, the entrance to the catacombs that confine the monster is in the forest just outside the city. All I need is a moment of your time and—”
“Enough of this!” Senna boomed, darting Archerus a glare from across the tavern. The warrior’s commanding voice froze everyone in the pub. The man cleared his throat and nodded to the musicians. “Go on.”
The music started to play once more and the conversations continued, sending the inn diving back into its former chaos.
Senna walked to Yuri’s table and bobbed his head in acknowledgement. He pulled out a letter that was marked with the red ink of the royal seal, holding it out to the boy. “This letter is directly from the king, inviting you to the palace tomorrow night. Please follow the instructions carefully and do not be late.”
Yuri examined the knight closely, looking him up and down. Taking the letter, he slid it into his pocket and nodded thanks to the warrior. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me,” Senna said, a hint of hostility in his voice. “I’m surprised that a weakling like you managed to win the Nobles’ Tournament this year. Normally there are more talented participants, but this event was especially disappointing. A boy from the slums, defeating famed war heroes? What a disgrace they are, since they managed to lose so easily to someone like you.”
The corners of Yuri’s lips curved into an arrogant smirk. “Oh? You think you can do better?”
Senna’s eyes flashed with confidence as he glared down at Yuri. “Not just better, boy. I could erase you from the face of Terrador if I wanted.”
“Well, let’s see you try.” Yuri grinned.
“Sir!”
Senna turned around at the voice of one of his henchmen. He saw that Archerus had bumped into a man, causing him to slam into an entire group of people that were drinking at a table. Within seconds, a massive brawl broke out as the drinkers started to punish the clumsy man. Individuals were rapidly taking sides and soon the pub became a war zone. “Calm things down in here,” he commanded his three soldiers, who immediately rushed to try and break up fights. “As for you—” he began, but found that Yuri had already disappeared in the chaos. The knight scowled in annoyance as he stormed towards the entrance of the pub. “Damn it!”
Senna used his heavy gauntlets to shove people out of the way, sending them sprawling onto the ground, as he marched towards his target. Finally reaching Archerus, who had defeated three men already, Senna gripped his metal helmet in his hand. The knight bashed Archerus across the skull with the helmet, knocking the man out instantly. The cloaked man hit the ground with a powerful thud, his eyes rolling back. “Wrong time to start a fight,” Senna snarled, dragging Archerus out of the tavern by his hood. “This time, I’m putting you behind bars.”
***
Yuri sauntered through the streets of the Lower District as he munched on an apple. He yawned, exhausted after everything that had happened during the day. At least he’d managed to slip out of that bar fight before things got too messy.
Yuri suddenly stopped walking, his eyes fixed on the cobblestone street before him. That man in the bar had mentioned Beo. He’d said that the noble had a werewolf locked up … underneath the streets of Horux? The boy’s features contorted into a puzzled frown. He had realized that Beo left his mansion every night at around midnight with a sack slung over his shoulder. What if…?
“Bang!”
Yuri snapped back to reality, finding three thugs trundling from a shadowy alleyway. The man in the middle had his fingers pointed like a pistol and he blew on the tip of his index finger as if the gun were real. “How fares your journey back from your masters, slave boy?”
“Don’t call me that,” Yuri grumbled. “Just because I have a highborn friend does not mean that I am his slave.”
“It doesn’t? But you’re always off running errands for them, like a lap dog. Fine, I won’t call you a slave then. What are you then, a gladiator?” The boy hurled a piece of parchment onto the ground. Written on the paper was news of Yuri’s victory in the Nobles’ Tournament. “The title doesn’t matter, Yuri. You’re still a part of their damned world.”
“We’re all citizens of Horux, Terias,” Yuri growled, storming forward towards the three thugs. He thrust his face inches from Terias’s, his unwavering glare burning into the shifting eyes of the young man. “I come from the same background as you. I’m poor, desperate, and I have a family to feed, so don’t you dare go off calling me one of the nobles, because if I were then I wouldn’t have to return to this hell every damned night to see your repulsive face.”
One of Terias’s friends reached out and grabbed Yuri’s shoulder, but the boy twisted the man’s wrist abruptly, and a slight gasp escaped the thug’s lips. Yuri smashed his fist into the man’s face, causing a spurt of blood to spray onto his knuckles as the enemy struck the ground. The boy turned, but was too late to avoid a heavy strike from Terias’s other companion. A powerful punch struck Yuri straight across the cheek, causing him to stagger backwards slightly. Compared to the blows he’d received earlier in the day, it was like being struck by a child.
Yuri rotated his body and leapt into the air, spinning twice with blinding speed. He cracked a heavy kick across the man’s face, causing the thug to spiral to the ground. Yuri landed gracefully after the strike and turned to glance at Terias from the corner of his eye. “You aren’t going to attack me?”
Terias clenched his jaw and glanced away, clearly irritated. “What’s the point? We both know what the outcome of the fight would be.”
“You’re right,” Yuri said, tossing his apple into the air. Catching it, he swiftly took a bite out of the fruit and shrugged as he walked past Terias. “You can thank yourself for making me this strong. After ten years of getting the living crap beaten out of me every day, I’ve finally learned how to defend myself. I could even say that I’m one of Horux’s greatest fighters.”
Terias glared at Yuri from over his shoulder, watching as the boy walked away. “One of these days, your arrogance will get the best of you, Yuri.”
“Maybe so, but I’ll deal with that problem when the time comes,” Yuri called without looking back. “Also, if you and your friends bother to assault me again I won’t just leave you idiots with a couple of bruises. I’ll start breaking bones.”
Terias broke his gaze from Yuri and knelt to tend to his friends. He lowered his head and sighed, staring at the bruised visage of one of his unconscious companions.
Terias had abused Yuri since they were children. Yuri had always been alone, lacking friends while Terias was the popular one. A group of boys would descend upon Yuri, in the same alleyway every day, and unleash barrages of punches upon the young boy. At one point, they beat Yuri so badly that he almost died. Regardless of that, Yuri always returned to the same alleyway at the same time each day, because it was how he got home after school. He could have decided to take an alternate route, but he never did. Instead, he stood up to Terias and his cronies, enduring relentless abuse every day. That is … until one day he decided to fight back.
At first, Yuri was only able to land a couple punches before he was knocked out. But as the weeks went on, Yuri was soon able to beat up one of the five boys that would ambush him. Months went by, and eventually Yuri was able to take down all five. Then Terias decided to bring more of his friends to ambush Yuri in the alleys. By the time he was eighteen, Yuri was able to beat up over thirty of Terias’s thugs effortlessly. Through experience, perseverance, and endurance, Yuri managed to become one of Horux’s most skilled fighters.
Terias bit his lower lip. “You damned freak … why did you keep coming back every day? Did you enjoy getting hit?” Every time I saw you coming back to the alleyway … all I would see is t
hat stupid, arrogant look of confidence in your eyes! That expression … even though you’re getting the crap beaten out of you, you still think you’re better than me!
Isn’t that right, Yuri?
***
Yuri’s hands were jammed deep into his pockets as he strolled down the narrow alleyway that led to his home. Leaning against the stone walls of the passage were several homeless people that were either sleeping or dead from starvation. Walking past them, Yuri’s expression did not change. He kept his eyes forward. He knew that if he ever failed to bring home food for his family then they would all end up like these poor souls on the streets.
The boy looked up and saw an open window on the building to his right, three stories above the ground. Running forward, he pounced towards the wall on his right. He slammed the front of his right foot against the hard stone, pressing his boots against the building. He leapt to the left building and then back to the right. Lashing out with his hands, he used his fingers like talons and latched onto a windowsill. Yuri began to haul himself upward, scaling the side of the building with ease until he reached the open window of his home.
He dragged himself up, pressing his toes into the windowsill. He stepped down into a tiny room where his family lived. It was tough for three people to sleep and eat in a room that was smaller than a servant’s bathroom in Asmund’s mansion.
A single candle, placed below the window, illuminated the room. There was a bucket in the corner where waste was stored. Positioned on the floor beside each other were two mattresses, both caked in dirt. Yuri’s mother and young brother shared one of them while Yuri took the other.
Yuri reached into his pocket and pulled out his pouch of gold coins. “I’m home,” he whispered, smiling warmly at his mother and young brother.
His brother was asleep, which was expected of an eight-year-old child at two in the morning. He had short black hair and wore some of Yuri’s old clothes, since their family could not afford to buy his brother his own set of garments.
