by S. K. Benton
Max, who had been quietly eating his dinner, but was suddenly reminded of his first real fight and his near-kiss with Jennie looked up and asked, “Where are the cells we’ll be located in during the change?”
Draagh offered an explanation, saying that the holding cells for adults were two floors beneath the dungeon, while the children would be locked in cubbyholes up above - the outsides of the doors having been coated with palladium and/or platinum, metals painful to the touch for both vampires and lycans while in battle and death forms. Lycans could tolerate touching those metals in day form, albeit with a mild stinging sensation.
Draagh had previously taught Max and Jennie that anything from the platinum family of metals, which consisted of ruthenium, rhodium, palladium, osmium, iridium, and platinum, could cause pain, with rhodium being the worst - but fortunately, the most rare of the group. Max was well aware of the structures of these metals, having a master’s degree in molecular biology, where part of his studies included metallurgy.
The old mage further explained that children were required to stay in these small rooms for the entire night, as the last thing anyone wanted was for a poor, unfortunate child to be roaming the hallway and suddenly encounter a loose, non-sapient phase 3, as it would only result in the child’s instantaneous death.
Part of the preparations for the full moon included expanded hunting parties, which brought back massive amounts of prey so that each cell had near half an animal. They had found throughout the years that a werewolf is much better contained with a food source than without.
Both Max and Jennie accompanied these hunting teams, the chance to leave the castle being a welcome one, and also enabling them to practice their already impressive skills. Children were busy collecting their belongings and decorating their quarters, which was more or less a ritual that had gone on for decades. Most children actually looked forward to the day of their first change, and on this particular cycle there were three local youths who were to experience it first-hand – one being the teenager Max barged in on when he was slipping about the castle.
Donus called a meeting with his night guards, as he called them, and the five who were to experience going phase 3 for the first time. Max recognized the young man whom he had so ungraciously surprised, and once he caught the lad’s attention, made the same circle with his thumb and forefinger, followed by up and down jerking motions while silently and tauntingly laughing. Jennie saw what he was doing and punched him in the arm, causing him to wince in pain.
“You idiot. Don’t! The poor kid’s already been traumatized enough by you.”
Grinning, Max turned to his lovely friend and said, “Aw Jen, we all go through it eventually,” causing her to grimace.
“Ewww, gross!”
Donus went over the various details of their up-coming transformations and housing for the night. Of course, he left out the grizzly specifics of exactly what would happen; he didn’t want to alarm his audience or cause anyone to flee. They would have plenty of time to be mortified once they had completed their transformation cycle and returned to day form.
Lycans took their full moon transformations very seriously, and although they maintained every precaution to protect their numbers, they did not denigrate their special phase 3 forms in any way. It was considered strong and noble, and all lycans studied very hard to maintain sapience during that one night every lunar cycle. (*18*)
The day of the full moon soon arrived, with everyone scrambling around making last-minute changes, such as cell and meat assignments. It appeared that there were a number of lycans who would not do well caged next to each either, so an attempt was made to stagger male / female / male / female as much as they could, even though the males outnumbered the females by nearly 50%.
Max and Jennie were housed next to each other, with Jennie practically begging Draagh to provide her with imagery of her transformation the following day, which he said he would most certainly not do, much to Jennie’s chagrin. Without a doubt, the girl had a most disconcerting sense of humor, with a taste for wanton violence mixed in for good measure.
When everything was ready, and about two hours before sundown, everyone prepared to go to their assigned quarters, with Donus’ night guards taking their positions in turrets high above and overlooking the castle. They had impressive-looking battle armor that would transform and fit their phase 3 bodies - a gift from Draagh many years past. In fact, the Rhönen Dominion was the only clan that possessed such armor. Many others had requested that Draagh make it for their clans, but he always turned down such requests for reasons known only to him.
Jennie searched around and found Liliana before the little girl was to be locked away in a cubbyhole of safety, and gave her an affectionate hug.
“You stay safe, ok?” said Jennie. “I want you to join me for breakfast in the morning and tell me how it sounded.”
Liliana snickered lightly and nodded her little head, her dark hair having been put into pigtails by her older friend earlier that day. Jennie then handed her a small box, rectangular in shape, saying it was for her to play with while waiting out the night, and Liliana’s eyes lit up like the brightest stars in the sky. It was not often that someone handed her something that looked like a gift, even though it was not originally intended to be one. It really didn’t matter to her anyway – Jennie was entrusting her with something, and for that she was grateful.
Needing to prepare for the full moon, Jennie left her little friend and headed back down to the lower level, where she met up with Max and Draagh.
“Pops, where will you be when this all happens?” asked Max, noting that Jennie had just entered the vast chamber of individual cells, all lined up on either side, with a two meter-high wall running down the middle of the room, effectively blocking the view from the cells across the way.
“Oh, I believe I shall be up above, enjoying the beautiful moon, and perhaps enjoying a bit of my pipe. You see, Krynos does not care much for the wonderfully aromatic scent of my herb, so I have refrained from partaking in its pleasures for the most part.”
Jennie rolled her eyes as Max chuckled a bit. He had come to accept that his grandfather loved the pipe, even though it affected the old mage more than he would willingly admit.
Jennie and Max then entered into their cells, and Draagh shut and locked each of the doors as the two sat down on floor mats provided for their minimalistic comfort. He bid them farewell and departed for the upper levels, his herb satchel already in hand.
Not being able to see one another, but certainly able to talk, they disrobed. As they were not provided with the special armor that Draagh had created for the night guard, they did want something to put on once they had transformed back to their normal, lycan selves. There was nothing to do except wait until the morning, stuck in their respective cells, so they began chatting about various things, more small talk than anything else, while lying down and looking at the giant slabs of meat hanging in each of their enclosures. Jennie looked at her own personal meat smorgasbord, eyeing it while licking her full, luscious lips.
“I’m kinda hungry. Maybe I’ll just take a bite already.”
“It should taste fairly good. I caught a servant trying to hang some already-rotting meat in our cells and gave him the riot act,” responded Max.
They both stared at their gently swaying, raw meals as they pondered what the night would bring. Just a short while later, they both heard growling and groaning sounds coming from down the corridor. Apparently, not all lycans were created equal, and some changed earlier than others. Donus unexpectedly appeared at their location, showing a look of surprise at seeing them sitting without yet having transformed. Startled by his unannounced arrival, Jennie instantly jumped back and covered herself with her shirt that was hanging on the wall.
“Ah, a handsome woman indeed you are, young Jennie. You shall make a certain lycan quite happy when you have chosen your mate!”
“Oh my GOD, don’t look!” the girl cried out, as they then
both heard Max complaining in his cell.
“Hey! Not fair! Bastards!”
“Shut up, Gunnarsson! You're such a perv!”
Donus laughed at Max’s unfortunate lack of scenery as well as Jennie's antagonistic response, and then continued, saying, “Young Max – you are certainly being denied a view of one of the great wonders of the world. Anyway! My friends! You look quite well! It pleases me to see that the change has not yet set upon your countenances.”
Jennie gave Donus a slightly embarrassed look, and kicking on the wall of her cell that was shared with Max she said, “Why should that be weird? I hear some stuff, but what’s the difference?”
“My sister, those who are of weaker constitution tend to suffer their transformation sooner than those of great strength, but then again, I should have expected as much. You are both strong, indeed.”
Max sat up and did a little drum roll on their shared wall, and in an announcer-like voice, said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we proudly announce the coming of… yarrrrrrrrrgghhhh!”
Max had started to shift to phase 3, and it was not pleasant. Jennie listened in horror as he screamed out in agony.
“Hold fast, dear brother! It shall soon pass and you will see all in a different light,” exclaimed Donus, as Jennie got a frightened look on her face while Donus retained a slight smile and glowing, wide eyes as he watched Max transform.
“U-oh, here it comes,” she said, feeling her body change from the inside out.
A phase 3 lycan transformation is not a pretty sight. In fact, it was known to have caused witnessing normals to enter into a permanent state of catatonic shock. The change started internally, with the organs shifting to accommodate the elongation of bones and muscles, which in itself felt like the worst cramps and diarrhea one could ever experience (and sometimes with equivalent results spraying out all over the place). The individual would then drop to the ground on all fours as their arms and legs bulged due to the violent muscular growth. The mutatebots would work by the trillions, building new tissues (and consequently causing agonizing pain), while the salubots worked furiously, flushing away dead and unused portions of the body through orifices. The human skin would then shred and slough off in a process akin to that of the deadly ebola virus, with blood spurting out of ripped-open wounds caused by the sudden, unexpected expansion of muscular tissues and body configuration changes. The tibia and fibula leg bones would self-break and reform with a backwards knee, also known as a stifle. Then claws would violently burst out of the fingers and toes, with the hands and feet becoming dexterous paws with semi-formed digits. Finishing the brain-melting sequence, the body elongated and the muzzle pushed out of the face. The worst part of this was that the lupine-style teeth actually replaced the former lycan/human teeth, with the old ones popping out and falling to the ground, followed by ample amounts of blood and pus. Fur would then grow over the body and face, and the ears would extend. It was almost as if a werewolf had grown inside and then burst out of the former body like a balloon.
Needless to say, it hurt - immensely, and once finished, after about one minute, a very large werewolf would be standing in a puddle of blood, blue pus and intestinal waste, where a friendly and sapient lycan used to be.
Donus watched the two with a rather unsettling smile, and then cleaned his battle armor and face of human skin and bodily fluids (mostly Jennie’s as he had watched her intently). Then, after making sure that they had transformed with no ill effects, he left them and returned up top to be with his night guard and to direct the normal human patrols.
Draagh sat up in a turret at the top of the castle, puffing away at his pipe, when Krynos approached him. Quickly waving away the pungent smoke, he put his pipe into his pocket and greeted his old friend.
“Krynos, lovely night is it not? The air on this world is so pure and invigorating.”
The lycan king had yet to begin his transformation, usually being the last to do so, and had arrived to greet his friend and have a bit of a chat before he would start running around the castle and peeing all over the place – marking territory that was most definitely his anyway.
“I just spoke with Donus. He says that your two young charges have experienced the change without difficulty.”
“Ah, excellent!” agreed the old mage. “So then, all we must do is wait out the night, and in the morning join in the main hall for a mighty feast.” “That would be correct, dear brother,” Krynos stated. With that, he looked over at the rising moon and bounded off out of sight, knowing that he was soon to experience his own transformation. Draagh smiled, and pulling his pipe back out, lit it up and puffed away while relaxing in the light of the rising full moon.
The werewolves who were once, and again would be Jennie and Max, paced in their cells, unaware of their location, or even of themselves. They were now beasts of pure instinct, and their instincts led them to choose between three very different activities – to escape, to eat the meat that hung in their cells, or to mate. They smelled each other, the mutual attraction being irresistible. Maybe it was just that they had spent so much time together, or they were actively denying the spark of romance while in lycan form, but something drove them to try and sniff each other at the edge of their shared wall, where the bars of their cells terminated the barrier, their noses not quite able to touch.
Unable to reach each other, the beasts howled and scratched at the thick wall that separated them.
Miles to the north of Krynos’ castle, a massive platoon of slowly rotting, black leather-clad soldiers marched in a southerly direction, with those of leadership positions astride dark, mutated horses that had glowing red eyes. Vladros took the position of leadership from the center, preferring to put his lower-caste troops out front and in all sides as cannon fodder in the event that the cantus, provided by his ally and fallen Primulus, Marnn, did not function as prescribed.
In the beginning of his existence, Marnn was a watcher with a penchant for tinkering and helping to prop up those nascent species that only needed a little push to get up and going. As years turned to centuries, and centuries turned to millennia he tired of helping those in need, and instead formulated his own views on what was right and just in the universe.
Of course, this created a conflict between he and his brothers, and he was banished from The Hub, mostly through the insistence of his brother Draagh. Bitter, he had been biding his time for countless centuries, waiting until he could catch his brother in a position of weakness. As Draagh had joined with his grandson Max, that moment had arrived. Marnn was certain that Draagh would willingly sacrifice anyone and anything – including himself – in order to protect the young man, and thus be less able to properly engage in a battle of ancient skills.
Vampire king Vladros trotted along on his massive steed, as Marnn effortlessly floated next to him. Dressed in ominous-looking black robes, and sporting a black beard and hair, he appeared to almost be a negative image of his brother Draagh.
“At last, the moment of retribution has arrived, oh great mage,” said Vladros, who was totally without the intention of honoring any of his promises to the ancient Primulus.
Marnn was well aware of the eventual deception, and continued playing his own cruel game of deceit with the vampire king.
“Yes, it shall be good to finally rid the universe of my brother’s plague.”
Further up ahead, Ryder Johnson was limping along with the massive throngs of hideous, malformed vampires, and as he had garnered absolutely no respect from Vladros, he was forced to march as a first line of defense. That suited him fine, as he intended to split off from the troops once they had breached Krynos’ castle perimeter, and to go find his other-wordly enemies. He no longer desired to violate the lovely Jennifer Escalante – he only wanted to kill her slowly, while Gunnarsson watched, and then carve the scientific commander’s head off with a dull blade.
What Johnson didn’t know until after Gunnarsson had rescued Jennie Escalante - as he was not privy to Vladros’ inner
circle of information - was that the vampire king had sent the majority of his troops off to hide in caves near Korlos’ dilapidated excuse for a castle, and had done so on purpose. He was playing a strategic game of chess with his lycan enemy. After deciding to kidnap the lycan girl, he left only a small regiment of troops in the castle – just enough to put up a fight, but also enable the eventual release of his captives. Feigning defeat, and making Krynos believe that his forces were all but destroyed; he would lull the lycan leader into a false sense of security, and then attack when they were most vulnerable – during the full moon.
“So, you say that the lycan mage is Draagh’s grandson?” Vladros asked Marnn. “That would explain his apparent ease in defeating Ladros and his counterparts.”
Marnn floated eerily next to his ally and said, “Yes, it is rare, but we occasionally procreate. The father of the boy is Taxiarch Michael, but he has been… indisposed of for near a quarter century, so—”
“What?” burst out Vladros with no small amount of trepidation. “His father is Michael? It is bad enough for the boy’s sire to be an archangel, but that lunatic? How are you to be sure that he does not show up in their defense?”
Marnn smirked and looked out at the marching fleet of death before them, saying, “He cares not for the boy, nor for his father. He only cares for himself. Plus, he has been rendered virtually powerless and stranded on another world.”
Vladros looked forward with a dull gleam in his nearly dead eyes. “Well then, that can only help us, my friend.”
Draagh sat in his turret, watching the moon slowly rise up into the sky, as the muffled sounds of transformed werewolves came up through ventilation grates. He enjoyed the full moon while in the Rhönen Dominion, finding it to be a time where he could truly be at peace, with no one bothering him to magically repair a door or to make a love cantus. He was nearly alone, with only Krynos running up and sniffing at him occasionally. Although Krynos retained his reason during the transformation, he did love running around and sniffing things, as there was little else to do for those few hours every lunar cycle.
